is there any more pie?

We are back in Rhode Island, as of Friday night.  10 days on the road is a lot of days on the road.

I want a GPS system.  And Sirius-XM radio.  So when rivers flood and traffic is stalled and exits are closed and disaster surrounds us, I will know ahead of time.  I’ve learned that you can’t depend on McDonald’s to have their Wi-Fi up and running so you can research road closures and hotel vacancies while you eat a 99-cent hot fudge sundae and cry.

Also I want a GPS so I will not be the only one telling Banjo Man to “Turn left here,” and being ignored.  I need someone else to help give him directions, because when he is distracted by hogs, historic buildings and bakery signs he doesn’t hear a thing I say.  And he is always so darned surprised when he gets lost.  In Stockbridge, MA he turned the wrong way into a one-way street.   The locals honked their displeasure.  I didn’t have the energy to scream.

There is no GPS in my future, though.  We’ll have to wait until the Mazda has another 100,000 miles on it before we replace it with a Subaru and a dashboard full of technology.  I’ve even heard a rumor that new cars have no cd-players, so we will have to get–gasp–an I-pod.  I explained the I-pod concept to Banjo Man while we were driving across a long stretch of Nebraska.

We made a second visit to the Norman Rockwell museum.  I didn’t have a lot of enthusiasm for this particular stop, mostly because (a) we’d been there before, (b) it was hot out, (c) we needed to avoid rush hour traffic in Hartford and (d) I wanted to stop at a mall in CT and buy a dress for Saturday’s wedding.  I hoped to be home before dark so I could pass out in my own bed.

I sat outside and ate an ice cream bar.  I apologize for being too tired to take pictures.  It really is a gorgeous place.  You should all go there some day.

And we did hit rush hour traffic.

I bought a dress in 30 minutes at Macy’s.   I’d hoped for something that would go with my new black and blue boots, because it would have been great fun to go to the  wedding in fancy boots.  What would all these Yankees think???  I found a cute dark blue lace dress and managed to squeeze my potato-chip-addicted body into it just fine, but then I realized how old I was.  Which was about 30 years too old for stretchy lace!!!

I bought a different dress, more respectable (and on sale!!), though I can’t wear my boots with it.  I still have the fancy shoes I bought for Ben’s wedding stored somewhere so I hope I can find them.  I realized when I arrived home that the dress is a smeary “camouflage” print, so I’m going to look like a gussied-up Army sergeant.

Did you know the New York Thruway’s gas & food plazas sell fruits and vegetables from local farms?  We bought peaches, of course, but they were small.  I ate all four before I went to bed.

Everyone we saw Friday was over 60. September must be Baby Boomer Travel Month.

Summer sure went by fast.  Too fast. 

Day 9 on the road:

No, we’re not in Rhode Island.  We’re in Syracuse, NY.  This is why:

(photo from pennlive.com)

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/44436279/ns/weather/’%20rel=’nofollow?ocid=ansmsnbc11

This morning we were up and out by 8 AM, ready to head to Williamsport, PA to meet Glen’s business partner and visit the office there.  But first, we had to gawk at the Penn State football stadium, which was 1/2 mile from the motel.

Impressive.  As were the students camped outside, in the rain, for tickets.

Does your mother know about this??  Are you warm enough in there??

Banjo Man drove by these hogs FOUR TIMES in order to get a good picture.  He thinks they are Chester Whites, due to their upturned noses.  Huh?

An hour later we learned that areas of Williamsport were flooding.  Areas of Pennsylvania were flooding.  According to the Weather Channel, the Penn. DOT and the local radio stations, every river in the state was flooding.  In other words, we had to get out of W’port as soon as possible.  The only road open at noon was Rt. 15 North.  The interstates were all closed down and there was no way to go east or south without running into areas that were being evacuated.

On the way out of town we watched people pull off the highway to watch the river flood below.  The pounding rain didn’t ease up until we reached New York.  We ate protein bars and assessed our food supply (2 apples, 5 bottles of water, 2 small containers of Muscle Milk–don’t ask–, a box of Triscuits, 1/2 box of Wheat Thins, 4 protein bars and 1 Hershey bar).

We could live for a week in the Mazda, if we shared nicely.

Luckily we didn’t have to eat all that stuff, because we eventually figured we were out of flood danger and stopped in a small town for lunch at a beer-making bar.  Next to the little brewery was an antique shop.  We inhaled our lunch and then went next door–neither one of us wanted to get back on the road.  Yeah, we were stalling.  I bought a tablecloth.  And an old aluminum strainer similar to the one Glen’s mother used.

(Did you know that “old” Pyrex containers/pie plates are supposedly safer than the new ones?  An antiques dealer told me that Pyrex changed its glass formula a few years ago and now there is a danger of them blowing up in the microwave.  So people are hunting for old Pyrex now!)

I’ll spare you the details of our afternoon—rain, traffic, getting lost, my “come apart” in a McDonalds with no wi-fi, closed exits, no radio reception, motels closed due to flooded parking lots, exhaustion, an EZ Pass with a low balance, the New York thruway—and just say we felt so lucky to make it to Syracuse and a Hampton Inn tonight.

We love this place.  They served free food (chicken bbq & beans from the Texas Roadhouse) and free beer in the lobby tonight.  And the nice Hampton Inn people kept it open just for us, because we were so pathetic.

Tonight we heard that Utica has flooded and I-90 was closed for a while.  We’d thought that by going so far north (370 miles out of our way) we could avoid the worst of this, but I guess we won’t know until tomorrow.

Meanwhile, here at the hotel, I have my earplugs in and Banjo Man is watching football in HD.  I don’t know where we’ll end up tomorrow, but at least we’ll be more rested.

Banjo Man just ate all of my Wheat Thins.

We’re spending the night in State College, Pennsylvania.  The home of Penn State, the Nittany Lions and Joe Papa Paterno.

You should see the college stuff they have in their Walmart.

Some of you already know that Nebraska’s new rival is Penn State, now that the Cornhuskers have joined the Big Ten.  The town of State College has no idea what they’re in for when the Husker fans show up.

I hope to take a picture of the stadium tomorrow morning if there’s time.  Banjo Man has a business meeting in Williamsport, then we head to RI.  It will be another very long day, but at least it will be the last one until next June.

The last couple of days are a blur.  I don’t even remember where we spent last night, except we were in a gorgeous Hampton Inn and a whirlpool tub sat in the corner by the bed, much to Banjo Man’s disgust.  He’d never seen anything like that before and thought we’d been given an inferior room. <sigh>

I vaguely remember having breakfast for dinner at a Crackerbarrel last night.  I drove all afternoon and ate a bag of potato chips to stay awake yesterday and today.  We are tired of burgers.

Yesterday I whined about missing my music lesson with the Band Chicks and Doug.  I’d check my watch and say things like, “I wonder what song they’re working on now.”

Banjo Man, digging behind the passenger seat:  “Where the heck are all the potato chips?”

Amber and Ben are doing okay today.  They think the worst is over, but they remain prepared to leave if they have to.  Texas needs rain.  Lots of rain.  I haven’t talked to Son #2 but I’ve left messages for him to check in.  We listen to the news on the radio every half hour.  I guess parents never stop worrying.

Saw a billboard near Chicago that advertised a jewelry store and showed a woman wearing diamond earrings.  It read, “She wants a stud?  Buy her two.”

A sign near Notre Dame:  28 Miles to Game Day.

Some day we’re going to visit the “Bat Factory”.  As in baseball bats.  We saw several signs today, which shows you how exciting driving I-80 in northern Pennsylvania can be.

We’re in Valentine, Nebraska tonight instead of with Glen’s sister and brother-in-law in North Platte.

We woke up early, were on the road at 8 am or so, drove 150 miles to Rapid City, South Dakota.  How did we know we were in South Dakota?

South Dakota loves big, decorative animals, especially in front of gas stations.

By noon we were in Perkins again and eating breakfast. Banjo Man was all excited about the statues of the presidents in downtown Rapid City, plus he wanted to do some shopping. Something about an Indian photographer. But his store was closed.

We weren’t going to drive 30 miles into the Black Hills to meet Bill at the gift shop, so we walked through the historic district of Rapid City and, yes, did a little shopping. Christmas shopping, to be specific. And then we were back on the road for the rest of the afternoon/evening. We stopped for a quick sandwich in Valentine, Nebraska, and when we left to drive the final 120 miles to North Platte it was sunset. On a two-lane road. Through the middle of the Sand Hills. Where the deer and the antelope play.

In other words, it was going to be a long 120 miles hoping that Bambi didn’t feel suicidal.

We turned around and drove 10 dark miles back to Valentine, and got the last room in the only motel in town (if there is another one I sure didn’t see it). We are so happy. The next full day of driving won’t be until Tuesday and this year we’re determined to take it easy and get off the road early each night.

Tomorrow morning we’ll be in North Platte, and it’s the opening Saturday of College Football!!!! Nebraska plays at 2:30, but I don’t think the game is televised. We’ll have to listen to it via internet streaming. Which is just fine. Hopefully we’ll play some Mexican Train dominoes, too.

GO BIG RED!!!

Montana to Wyoming.  Always beautiful, especially in September.

I finally remembered to take a picture.

We ate breakfast at our hotel (a Best Western Plus we pulled into late the night before–in fact, we were so tired that when I dragged myself out of the car to see if they had a room available when others we tried were full, Glen spoke four words I haven’t heard him say in our entire 41 years together: “Money is no object.”).

Revelation: I will never be able to make a waffle. I may as well just give up, having spent more than 2/3 of my life trying.

We stopped in Big Timber for lunch at the Grand Hotel, a restaurant Tom Brokaw is known to frequent. He wasn’t there, but a lot of local folk dressed in jeans and jackets were. Montana was cold! We ate the smallest, driest, plainest buffalo burgers in the West and then got back on the road.

Mile 200: I drove. Glen slept.
Mile 330: I saw a cowboy riding a horse. Be still my heart. I have to start writing about cowboys again.
Mile 400: I saw two cowboys (spurs and all!) in McDonalds in Buffalo, Wyoming.

We vowed to get off the road early and checked into another Best Western in Gillette. It wasn’t nearly as nice as the one the night before, but we just stopped at the first hotel we saw and didn’t really care. Then we found a Perkins and ate dinner with a lot of other old people. And went to bed early.

Total miles: 468.

Best songs on the radio: “Knocked Out Rhythm” and “Got A Lot of Rhythm in my Soul” (Patsy Cline) on a Western Swing radio station.

These are the other two pictures I took. And I don’t even know why.  I think I had eaten too many potato chips and the grease affected my brain.

I think we were in Wyoming. Banjo Man doesn’t understand why I think taking pictures of him is so funny.

But it is. Wait til you see the ones from Rapid City.