Day Three. Home Sweet Home.

And, he's back. Good golly, we return to Michigan today, where they like them some churches, mighty fine. Halleluiah!

The day started off well, with a complete – and most importantly – included, hot breakfast, Super 8-style. Make-your-own waffles, cereal, doughnuts, some sort of chopped sausage grits/porridge concoction I didn’t touch. And coffee. The orange juice was skunky, so it got tossed. Not a bad start, particularly after the lack of real food yesterday. Up at 6:54, I am still completely knackered. My throat is scratchy. And not in the sexy way. The trip started to catch up with me last night, but I really didn’t want to ply myself from the covers this morning. Well, I should have crawled under them earlier. Sigh. Such a dummy. Having started at the crack of darkness on Tuesday didn’t help either. Really.

On the road at 7:34 – not too bad a turnaround time despite the fog in my brain. One sign that it’s going to be a good day, though: the warning at the entrance to the highway states that it is not to be used by “farm implements”. Brings back fond memories of one of my former history professors who would always sprinkle his lectures with the term because he knew it would make us all laugh. Absurd, really. Another good sign: it’s clear and 20 degrees. Starting at 2,078.7 kms. today.

7:44: Big Bone Lick State Park. No comment. It’s too early, dammit. And I’m dumb today. Just past this, and outside Cincinnati, though, a giant traffic snarl lights up like an LED board. Signs warn of 10-15 minute delays. I remind myself of the perils of cat naps during that stretch. Then stretch and yawn. Where’s that coffee again? Gone. Damn my inability to drink more slowly. Sigh (number two).
What’s Playing: The Organ, Grab that Gun

8:13: Cincinnati! Finally, free from the clutches of the hordes. Traffic jam, be gone.

8:34: 2,170.9 kms. It’s grey out, but at least it's not raining.
What’s Playing: Man on the Moon, OST

8:57: West Carrolton, OH for more gas. Looks like a ritzier neighborhood. Whoops, maybe not the best place to choose for gas. It just struck me that I’m so used to not going to generic gas stations that I have stuck with the majors to fill the rental car. Hmm. $2.479 a gallon for a total of $26.48. According to news reports last night, fuel is cheaper across the US than it has been in a year and it is anticipated that gas prices will be down to $2.00 a gallon by Thanksgiving. Depends if their President starts another war somewhere. Sorry, my little yellow ribbon must have peeled off. I can support the troops just fine, thanks – I just don’t support that government. There is a very BIG difference. But these people carry guns, so I’ll keep my trap shut. Big trap. Big guns. Closed.
What’s Playing: Lauryn Hill, The Miseducation of

9:34: 2,272.7 kms.
What’s Playing: Alanis Morissette, Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie

10:34: 2,383.7 kms.
What’s Playing: The Tragically Hip, Day for Night

11:23: Michigan!

11:29: Monroe, Michigan, here we come. Alright, one more stop for the road trip. The last hurrah. The big finale (have I built up the anticipation yet?). Jerky!

Uh, Santa lives there, right? How exactly do I get into a career in Jerky? I’m sure Guelph offers a degree in it.

Anytime a man wearing an apron -- and surrounded by various cured meats -- approaches with shears, do not fret. Smile broadly. Samples! Teriyaki Beef. Smoked Beef (sorry, drooling on the keyboard). Some other kind I cannot remember, though if I search far enough back into my molars, I might find some stringy remnants. Mmm, remnants. Jerky = yum. Especially on road trips. Too bad this one is almost over.

Anyway, paper bags full of jerky and I’m a happy man. In the absence of other exciting photo opp’s today, we’re going to embark on the journey called “Jerky over Michigan”. Replete with reviews. In depth reviews. Some might even say, “meaty”. Others stick to “dry”. Those ones are usually being jerky.

Beer flavoured beef. Spicy. Okay, I get it – tough to go too far astray with this one: Give man meat. Give man beer. Man be happy. A club, too? Over the moon.

11:34: 2,484.9 kms. Last stop? For real this time? Michigan Welcome Centre in Monroe. There’s the coffee again. And empty the car of garbage acquired in six states and one province over three days. But really, I just wanted to add to my map collection. I just got back into the car and wow, does it smell strongly of dried meats. Mmm, dried meats…Sorry, I just lost more time, opening and closing the door. Wafts are so good. But such a tease. Need more meat. Did I mention there’s jerky? Jerky, we’re close, you know.

Try the garlic beef, you say? Why, mighty nice of you to ask. Barkley was feeling left out and wanted to try some, too (I don't even want to see the cat gut after that one). This was surprisingly bland until 5-6 hours later. Just ask anyone I talked to. Except the jerky, he’s gone (hey, it was a lonely car). That conversation went like this: “Am I shaped like a state you just left?” “Not yet,” I replied. Then it became Rhode Island, which was subsequently sucked into the dark, gurgling ocean.
What’s Playing: Travis, The Man Who

12:20: Detroit! (Sorry Paul, “The D”).

12:28: Canada!*
(*Caveat: Well, we’re at the midpoint of the Ambassador Bridge, so they haven’t technically let me into the country yet. But the Russian judge ruled in my favor on this one.)

12:34: 2,555.8 kms.

My favorite jerky of the day was the honey garlic pork. Ever so slight a zip. Tender. I don’t want to pig out because I’m bac-on track to get home. It was smooth. Like butter. Very chewy butter. At least it looks like a maple leaf for going across the border (that’s what they’d say at Ruby Falls, anyway).

12:36: SCS wins the bet (she had wagered that I had a 42 per cent chance of getting stopped at the border, I had wagered 74 per cent). I whizzed through without any difficulty this time. I think the ever-so serious agent even raised the corner of her lip the slightest bit when I replied to her query about items to declare: “…right at $100 worth of apparel, including a pair of shoes…and some jerky.” A micro-smile at best, but I know she wanted some. I was just glad that she didn’t ask where I had been; I’ve had a mental block about remembering “Huntsville” all week, for whatever the reason.

Welcome to Canada! Windsor! Eek. 24 degrees and sunny. Finally make it to the good ol’ 401 eleven minutes later.
What’s Playing: Split CD: Wolf Parade, Apologies to the Queen Mary and EPs

13:34: 2,652.7 kms.
What’s Playing: Split CD: Regina Spektor: Soviet Kitsch and Begin to Hope

14:20: London! Grr. Welcome back to the city’s horribly mistimed lights. All red. And I’m so close I can taste it. Or maybe that’s just the jerky.

14:34: 2,749.4 kms.

14:38: Gas for the last time. 89.7, which is still cheaper than I’ve seen it in quite a while around here, for a total of $34.77. Drivin’ isn’t cheap.

14:43: HOME!!! (Yes, that one deserves triple exclamation marks). Total trip kilometers: 2,751.7. 35 hours and 28 minutes of tooling around time. Two bags of Crispers. Two Granny Smith Apples. A bag of Licorice. Most of two boxes of granola bars. Two 2L bottles of pop and a litre of water. A bag of Skor bites. And jerky, sweet jerky. Where would I be without you? Um, here.
And yes thanks, I am as tired as I look. But it was worth it.

Day One, Morning.

5:01: Start time. We're off and we're wet. 17 degrees and it turns out that the car doesn't have a multi-changer for the CDs. Gas in London is 91.9. Don't need any; haven't gone anywhere yet.
What's Playing: Bright Eyes, Digital Ash in a Digital Urn

5:16: Not messing with what I know works, make it to the highway. Go figure, there are trucks on the 401. And they're snarling at me. I'm tired and don't want to hear it. But this will seem to be a theme for the day.

Blades slice through
the rain,
water colours on the
windshield
painting smudged memory
down the road behind,
a blank
canvas ahead.

2006.08.29

6:01: 101.3 kms in the first hour. Things are humming along, albeit dark. The rain, though, mercifully subsided after the first forty minutes or so. Gee, thanks. Even the trucks have abated for a bit.

6:08: Ambassador Bridge! There goes Canada, here comes the U.S. Michigan: state number one for the day. Gee, let's guess what they odds are that a scruffian traveling solo to Alabama -- where he knows nobody -- will get stopped at the border. 5 to 1? 10 to 1? 100 to 1? Let's go with almost guaranteed. Twenty minutes later, freed from the clutches of the orange form stuck to my windshield and from the raised eyebrows emanating from several rather large, and surprisingly thick-accented U.S. Customs Agents. Just doing their jobs, I know. At least there was no snapping of latex gloves onto overly eager fingers. And now, the sigh of relief. I'm free to go do whatever it is I'm going to do in Alabama and points in between. The odds of getting searched when I return to Canada? Particularly if I have nothing to declare?

7:01: Up to 201.4 kms

7:53: Back on the highway after circling around and wandering aimlessly like a lost school child (albeit in possession of a 2,000 pound car) in Detroit. Those ramps that branch off in three directions are just dang tricky. Especially when you don't read the signs right to begin with. Figures that this is the one city on the voyage I've been to the most. And an inauspicious start. Where's that paper bag again?
What's Playing: REM, Reconstruction of the Fables

8:01: Up to 232.3 kms

8:20: Billboard advertising 'Alcatraz, the Gentlemen's Club'? This is the first of what I discover to be a trend throughout the journey: billboards for strip clubs, fireworks and God. Everywhere. And not always in that particular order.

8:23: Another beef jerky outlet, this one given the stomach-tantalizing moniker of 'Beef Jerky Unlimited'. Alas, it does not open until 9am. Sigh. But I don't want to wait. Hmm, dried pork products. Drool. Traffic ends up slowing for a bit as everyone is drawn like moths to the shiny lights. They're fire trucks, people. We all have them in our towns. A tiny Honda Civic decided to tangle with an 18-wheeler. Well, there was a tangle. The transport, however, was just sitting there, blowing on its fingernails, a ho-hum look on its face. Major plastic surgery for the Civic.

8:36: O-Bye-O! I barely knew you. The Buckeye State. Not to be confused with Hawkeye.

8:56: First voluntary stop of the day. Feeling patriotic, so the call of duty is at a Tim's in Ohio, just outside Toledo. I had forgotten about how many American establishments have midget-sized urinals. Seriously, a foot off the floor. Short or not, the pot of coffee had to go somewhere. First gas fill-up, too: $2.549/gallon for a total of $14.43. Oh yeah, it's still wet, grey and crappy too. Up to 18 degrees though. Much easier job getting back on the highway this time. Yay me.
9:01: Up to 314.7 kms
What's Playing: REM, Life's Rich Pageant

9:46: An all-you-can-eat buffet. Of Kentucky Fried Chicken. When are we going to get that kind of greasy goodness in Canada?

10:01: Up to 424.1 kms
What's Playing: Mixed live album (Cat Power, Bright Eyes, Linkin Park f/ Jay-Z)

10:43: Midget urinal breakshouldn't two. Oh wait, probably shouldn't have phrased it like that. But you know what I mean. You're smart like that. A pleasant Ohio rest stop with an hour to go to Cincinnatti.

10:51: While still cloudy, I can see the first hint of sun, albeit only a sliver. It has only taken six hours.

11:01: Up to 534.6 kms

Evidence that we are finally approaching the south. Even the water tower -- this one in Florence, Ohio -- says "Y'all".

11:09: Lovely Dayton, Ohio. A little hillier and greener than what we've been seeing, though Michigan and Ohio have bdidn'tbeen pretty blah. The weather didn't help. It just made the dirt wet. First jump in the temperature of the day, though; up to 24.
What's Playing: Liz Phair, s/t

11:31: Quite the Church. They like they're churches down here. And their enormous sculptures of people climbing out of the earth.
What's Playing: Fugees, The Score

11:51: Cincinnatti



11:58: Kentucky! Welcome to the bluegrass state. KY. No, not the jelly.