(The thumbnails on this page are linked to full-size images.)
| DAY ZERO | |
| Denver, CO to Cheyenne, WY | |
My portion of the trip began with a flight to the Denver airport. To pass the time before I arrived, my travelling companions, Dale and Jenn, engaged a couple of nearby five-year-olds in appropriate card games of wit and strategy, like "Memory."
We drove from DEN to Cheyenne. It was dark, so I didn't bother with photographs. I demonstrated my usefulness early in the trip, with the search for a motel. "Look over there, it says Village Inn!"
| DAY ONE | |
| Cheyenne, WY - Black Hills National Forest, SD | |
Our motel in Cheyenne was a little questionable, which may not be evident from the picture. It made up for its visual shortcomings with water pressure that easily rivals a coin-operated car wash.
In between Cheyenne and the Black Hills: nothing.
The Black Hills are beautiful, and Mt. Rushmore is breathtaking. I wasn't expecting much, but I was blown away. The museum is quite nice, too, and we all know a lot more about that crazy dude Gutzon Borglum now. In the Mt. Rushmore gift shop, accompanied by a lovely version of "God Bless America" on the store P.A. system, we began our tradition of sending Teresa (our friend and first lieutenant in Iraq) a postcard from every notable stop.
No matter what tactics we tried, we were unable to befriend the local wild mountain goats. I did, however, get one to pose reluctantly for a portrait before he sauntered off to much on some other grass.
As you can see, Dale and I are Lamers. ("Is 'Lamer' their last name or something?" "Yes." "Aha.") The opposite of lame is sweet ridin' boots, which the two of us did not have.
| DAY TWO | |
| Black Hills National Forest, SD - Detroit Lakes, MN | |
The day began at the Horsethief Lake campground, very near Mt. Rushmore. Big pieces of granite everywhere.
The car with the foot sticking out of the trunk belongs to a highway worker, who assured us (while we waited for our escort vehicle) that the shovel was only for killin' snakes.
Being big fans of the movie, we rolled into Fargo in the evening, hoping to check out the local scene. The local scene, as best as we could figure, was to sit in the diner and make fun of the waitstaff's ridiculous Fargo accents. Maybe we missed the entertainment district.
| DAY THREE | |
| Detroit Lakes, MN - Lake Michigamme, MI | |
The Army Corps of Engineers runs a totally sweet museum in Duluth, where we spent a lot of time. Immediately after we arrived, a blast of horns signaled the arrival of the Columbia Star at the lift bridge to Lake Superior. She's not what you would normally think of as a lake boat, being 1000' long, weighing 157 million pounds, and trolling around with 14,000 horsepower. Boats are neat. I'll have to come back and check out the Gales of November.
The Maritime Museum in Duluth is the only museum I've ever wanted to buy a gift from. And it may well be the only museum without a gift shop. Admission was also free. What a crazy idea.
| DAY FOUR | |
| Lake Michigamme, MI - Pembroke, Ontario | |
This day involved a lot of driving, an activity that does not offer many photographic opportunities. The most exciting stop on this leg, by far, was for a yard sale in rural Ontario. "There's more stuff in da garage, eh?"
| DAY FIVE | |
| Pembroke, Ontario - Montréal, Québec | |
Just before leaving Ontario, we found a Beaver station. Did you know that "Beaver works hard... to save you money?" Yeah.
The picture of the stop sign was prompted by one of those, "oh wow, all the signs are in French!" comments. Clearly we hadn't been in Québec for more than five minutes.
After getting our hotel, we hit the town in Montréal. Dinner at a French restaurant. Drinking Molson and watching NHL at a bar. Finding the local college-kid watering hole (the Bifteck St-Laurent -- who'd have guessed!). We talked politics, Canadian and American. I left my camera at the hotel for this segment. I ended up getting a little sick. Oh well.
Dale wants me to add that the Labatt Bleue on tap was far superior to the Molson.
| DAY SIX | |
| Montréal, Québec - Boston, MA | |
Our hotel was near Olympic Park, which has the most excellent stadium I've ever seen.
The people who repair the streets in Montréal most likely received their training in Cambridge, MA. The yellow tape even says "DANGER" in English.
Our friends from the Bifteck insisted that we go to the statue at Mont-Royal to check out the Sunday "Tam-Tam." As promised, there was a huge drum circle with dancing. And fields littered with hippies of all ages, wielding flowers, acoustic guitars, joints, and even boffer swords.
And then we drove back to Boston.
The End.