The Beer Traveller

Melissa picked me up in from Stuckey’s & we were now headed up to our family’s camp on the St. Lawrence. A quick stop in our hometown of Syracuse so she could replenish her supplies (hair I’m guessing) & we were on our way.  Unfortunately we didn’t get the chance (or really want to) hit any breweries before leaving.  The weather was fairly shitty/rainy which provided my lil’ sis with the opportune conditions to snooze most of the way.  Hopefully she’d be sobered up by the time we met up w/ Mom & Gram.  We arrived at camp just in time for dinner. After being on the road for 2 weeks straight & driving most of today, I was asked to cook the hamburgers.  Not exactly what I was expecting, but I definitely had this routine down by now. 
Camp is where I spent 2 months out of every year growing up.  It consisted of eating, being lazy, fishing, swimming, eating, getting into trouble, drinking, cutting grass, eating, being grounded, sitting by campfires, hide & go seek @ night, & eating.  Did I mention I was a fat kid?  As you can imagine, it’s still great to come back & not have to worry about a thing (thank God for parents).
The weather was not the best, but it felt good to be anchored for a while & enjoy the family time.

I wanted to extend a special thanks to Stuckey & Kate as they were the most gracious hosts.  They had a 3 wk old baby & were still willing to put me up for the night.  Kate waited until we got home from the Pearl Street Grill, which allowed me the opportunity to see their beautiful baby, James Steven.  She had mentioned he had been good all day, but that soon changed when Stuckey put his paws on him.  Ever heard the term “cry like a a baby”?  Needless to say it was now time for Kate & lil’ Steven to hit the hay.  Stuckey proceeded to feed me with more beer, music, & various other forms of entertainment until I too was pooped.
Next morning found me pillaging Stuckey’s vast CD collection so that I could ‘borrow’ some music onto my MacBook.  I was in no real hurry to get going & Stuckey actually whipped up a pretty mean breakfast.  Sis arrived & was chomping at the bit to get back on the road.  May have had something with me sending her a wake-up text that I was ready whenever she was.  After arriving, she patiently (not) waited for me to burn several more hours of music.  She had had a rougher night than I, the night before & was not in the best of shape.  Thanks again Steve-O & Kate!

I finally smartened up after my Wisconsin experiences & we decided to go set-up camp before hitting another brewery for the night.  We decided to set-up camp at a little place called Dunewood.  I was unaware that they did not allow alcohol on their campground.  Camping & drinking go together like barley & hops. It was still daylight out so I was unsure on the Mosquito count, but the Deerflys could be heard bouncing off my windows.  We quickly set-up the tent, but decided to hold on to the sleeping bags so that they didn’t stand a chance of getting stolen.  I wasn’t sure if I would make it; for anyone that knows Seattlites, we have a very tight comfort range.  Ninety degrees w/ 90% humidity does not fall within this range.

We decided we would head to the beach & check some shit out before heading off to dinner.  I took a nice dip in Lake Michigan & got my core temp down to the point where my hallucinations were now back to being from the beer & not the heat.  Than it was off to the National Seashore, Indiana Dunes. This was about as exciting as looking for 4 leaf clovers.  It was a decent beach, but they were kicking people out of the water @ 6PM & there was no beer allowed here either.  Completely anti-climatic & not what I would have expected our government to sink their $ into…wait, they’ve done worse.

We than hit the Shoreline for dinner & drinks (read next blog).

When we got back, we had found that it had rained.  Keep in mind it was sunny when we left & I left the rainfly off to air out the tent.  Another smart one.  Turns out there must have been a shift change cause the deerflys were now gone & my mosquito buddies were back.  Nowhere near as bad as last night.  I have no idea on how many times I’ve been bit, but the camp kids seem to think I’m a big connect-the-dots game.

We slept quite well considering it was still rather humid & Melissa hasn’t been camping since her Brownie days.  Next morning was another 1st for me; taking a shit while getting dive bombed by a deer fly.  The guy brushing his teeth must have wondered what the hell was going on as I continuously smacked my head & the wall while trying not to fall off the can.

After leaving Great Dane I thought I was a little better prepared than the night before.  I actually had the name & location of the campground where I would be crashing.  After again exiting the normalcy of the freeway, I was again in never never land Wisconsin.  I was able to find the campground (~12 AM) only to find a lit-up police car out front w/ a ranger walking some young man off.

The sign said “Campground Full”, but my past experiences have shown signs suck.  The walking ranger turned around to tell me the campground was full.  I asked if there was anywhere else nearby & he replied with “I don’t have time to give you directions right now”.  I wanted to reply with “State Parks need another budget cut, cause you’re about as helpful as a tree”.  With the cop car right there, my current state, & the Beer Traveller logo plastered on my vehicle I decided to take the smart route; shut my mouth & leave.  Back to the night before.

After about 45 minutes driving the back roads w/o GPS, I drove by a campground sign, nailed the breaks, & threw it in reverse.  At this pt, I didn’t give a hoot & was crashing here no mater what.  Appeared to be an RV park, but all I needed was a piece of land.  I jumped out & started setting up my tent only to find that I was in Mosquito capitol of the world.  This place made Alaska & Africa look like the anti-insect capitols.  I looked like cho-cho the idiot circus boy setting up my tent in world record speed while swatting like King Kong during a seizure.

I awoke the next morning to find my 2 neighbors smoking & staring.  Time to pack-up & head off to Chicago O’Hare to pick-up my sister.  She would be joining me on my Chicago to NY leg.  Between the smell of a frat house & the oozing open sores I had received from the night before, I knew I needed to freshen up.  I was on the look-out for freshn’-up facilities when it occurred to try a truck stop.  1st time for everything.

Apparently if you don’t get a hundred & some gallons of gas (the Tacoma takes 17), they charge ya $9 for a shower.  Best $9 I ever spent.  I didn’t quit fit the trucker lifestyle as I pulled out my organic cucumber moisturizing shower gel & Trader Joe’s Citrus Orange shampoo, but I was finally clean & the facilities @ Love’s Truck stop were second to none.

Chicago airport was about 2.5 hrs away & I was on my.  Got there about an hr early & pulled out the Mac to rub in the faces of the business travelers fumbling w/ their PCs.  Melissa had arrived & I had suddenly forget where I parked.  Forgetting where you parked @ Chicago O’Hare is not the same as forgetting where you parked at the local grocery store.  From the time I met up w/ Melissa till we left the airport about an hr had elapsed.  The truck was found & it was now time to go drink.

So after waking up in the rest stop after a miserable night driving & feeling a little hung-over, I decided to treat myself to a nice breakfast & crank out some blogging (my trips in MN). Four hours & 12 cups of coffee later, I felt as though I had stayed long enough.  Two things clued me in…the waitress asking if I was now interested in ordering lunch & the newly developing bed sores.

So after leaving Great Waters Brewing in Minnesota, I figured I’d just hop on the freeway until I saw a camping sign.  I’ve had good luck in all the other states & usually find a campground within a few exits.

I pulled off three separate WI exits, all of which advertised a campground.  I proceeded to drive about 15 miles (each exit) in search of the advertised campgrounds.  For those of you who have not been to rural WI, picture no signs, no lights, & lots of bugs.  Now at this point I’m a little tired & a lot of cranky.  Each time, no campground was found & I spent an additional 20-30 minutes trying to find my way back to the freeway.  BTW…my gps doesn’t always work in east fuck Wisonsin.

On the last one I did find the campground; it was blocked off by a big gate & a sign that said “Warning, nude sunbathers present”.  This would have made the hassle worth it, but it was obvious no one was around & there was no way to get in.  I also had some concerns of getting stabbed; could have been a gay campground.

I finally gave up & pitched the tent @ a rest stop.  But only after cooking myself a can of soup.  Last meal I had was…I don’t remember.

I leave Michael a VM yesterday to find out if he had any luck w/ Marly. After 4 hours in Perkins (updating my blog) I went back to my car to find a VM awaiting me. It was Michael & he said that Marly was picked up by the pound. Hip Hip Hooray!

Michael (& Marly) was now headed back to WI to visit his family. He was moving up in the world & was now traveling w/ a Canadian couple in a Winnebago. Lucky SOB! Best of luck Michael!

I wasn’t planning on stopping anywhere (other than breweries) in Minnesota b/c there didn’t appear to be much worth seeing.  I saw a sign for Pipestone National Monument & figured as long as I’m here, I might as well.  I arrived at the monument about 10 minutes before closing, but the trail would remain open until dark.  I had all of about 30 seconds to check out the the pipestone pipes in the gift shop before having to move outside.  Now I completely understand the cultural significance of pipestone to the Native Americans, but the monument was not worth the stop.

The ranger @ the front desk informed me there was a Sun Dance starting Wednesday & I could grab some pics of tepees between now & than.  He directed me towards a dirt road that would get me up & close.  After traveling down this dirt road & driving through a field, I came upon a lot more than my expected single tepee.  There were several tepees, Indians, sweat lodge frameworks, & porta-potties.  At this point I was feeling rather out of place, but figured as long as I was here, I would snap some pics & be on my way.

I made my way out to last year’s Sun Dance tree and was waved over by a nice woman (Cheryl, I think) who was weeding the ceremonial mound for the pipes.  She got me more up to speed with exactly what was going on.  For those of you who are ignorant regarding the Sun Dance, it varies by tribe but this one is a cleansing ceremony. Men are pierced through the chest & tied to the tree; they than dance for 4 days/nights straight w/ no food or water (& you thought Crab Fishing was hard).  At the end of the dance, their objective is to tear themselves from the tree, thereby ripping their pierced chests open (or breaking the rope).  I don’t mean to be disrespectful as there is a lot more to it, but this is the main focus.  Cheryl recommended I stick around as least for the night if not the dance.

I was pretty focused on hitting the road, but decided to stay for the experience.  They were in the preparation phase & several folks had arrived early to help & hang-out.  Although I felt completely out of place, it was no fault of theirs.  There was a true community feel; everybody was doing their share of work & free food was provided to everyone helping out.  Vehicles, tents, & tepees were scattered.  I even acquired a blister machetteing sticks into tepee stakes.

Everyone was called to the food tent around dusk as Clyde Bellecourt was going to speak.  I had no idea who this man was but he talked of his past, an interesting one at that.  He also talked of the Sun Dance, the fact that it was outlawed until recently, his other Sun Dance experiences, & being Indian.  Clyde too, at age 72, was going to dance the Sun Dance.  Clyde discussed how Indians (incl. himself) have had issues w/ alcohol & how he is now clean & sober.  Now keep in mind…there’s a white kid in the corner w/ a T-shirt that has “The Beer Traveller” plastered on the front.  Oh, did I mention my truck (plastered w/ The Beer Traveller decals) was parked right at the entrance for everyone to see upon arriving.  The great thing is as anti-alcohol Clyde (& others) now are, I never felt judged.

I ended the night around a lantern talking with a few of the others & learning of their stories.  There was one gentlemen in particular that speaked of seeing through a white eagle, black matter oozing, black eagles, being recognized by a red-tailed hawk, being followed by a red tailed hawk (b/c he had a hawk feather in his headband), stealing a bulldozer & driving it to his house, & getting fined for having a turkey vulture in the bed of his truck.  Now who am I say if this really happened?  He also mentioned his 8 yrs in a mental hospital.

Don’t know if it’s a good or bad thing that I didn’t bring my camera, but it would have helped to remember the night.  I had planned on crashing @ a campsite & therefore already had my buzz on from Crow Peak.  Went back to Andrews & got more of a buzz going; he than asked if I was interested in going out.  Well it was Friday night & I figured why not.

Upon entry into the 1st bar, a beautiful young lady handed me an extremely stiff drink (hence the hand-off).  In addition to barley & hops beverages, I’ve been know to hit the hard stuff once in a while, but this seemed a glass of liquor no mixer.  Things get a little fuzzy at this point.  I remember downing beers with a couple of guys, chatting with a few girls, but no names whatsoever.  The place started clearing out & everybody was heading to another bar or was it bars.

Next thing I remember we were at somebody’s house.  Apparently it was time to go skateboarding.  It was a mad dash to the longboards & than a rush to the top of a hill.  I could barely stand up at this point & these guys were longboarding down a steep local street.

The night ended @ another house (this is the 3rd) w/ my host getting his jiggy on in an open door bedroom; apparently we would not be heading back to his house to crash.  I crashed on the couch only to be awaken by someone saying “that’s fucked-up”…that’s fucked-up, that’s fucked-up.  Apparently this was a long term house guest & that was his couch.  Whatever dude, have your frickin couch.  I moved over to the chair where my 5′6″ limp frame was perfectly content.

Next morning I had to get going, which meant waking the nasty doer for a ride home.  He was totally cool about considering it was only about 6AM.  He borrowed some truck in the driveway & dropped me off.  It was now time to spent an entire day driving hung-over.

Other than Craig the Asshole, who was more of a thorn, the real buzz kill of Thursday night was Marly disappearing.  Michael & me had left him in the truck while we went to MT Brewing Co.  My back window was slightly open & he had managed to open it the rest of the way.

When we had returned, the truck was empty.  It was parked outside of Angry Hank’s & several patrons had mentioned they had seen him standing on the back of my tonneau cover.  I drove Mike around for about 45 minutes as we looked for Marly.  Unfortunatly he was nowhere to be found & the pound was already closed for the night.

If anyone in Billings, MT finds him, please get a hold of me ASAP.  Mike & I parted ways in Billings as he wanted some time to look for Marly.  I wanted to help more, but had to get going.  Best of luck Mike!