Day 19: Finale

Just to ensure I've consumed enough calories this trip, I decide we need to have crab omelets with a tasso ham hollandaise sauce for breakfast. It is the second breakfast I've cooked this trip; after learning what goes into a hollandaise sauce I'm not sure if cooking ourselves is any better for us than eating out. I also might never want hollandaise ever again, though to it's credit, it is a good use for an entire stick of butter. 

We have a pretty eventful last day planned in Washington, D.C. In continuing our markets of America tour, we first hit the Eastern Market, which is some combination of a farmer's market/art fair/flea market/garage sale. At risk of sounding repetitive, the sun is angry and it is blistering hot. The market is full of interesting vendors and people and on a cooler day I'm sure it would be quite enjoyable to the three (Scott, Colleen, myself) of us. 

Not wanting to end the trip without eating at least three pieces, we make one final pie stop. Deliciously Dangerous Pies - an alt-gourmet pie shop if there ever was one - has been featured on Best Thing I Ever Ate so I had high hopes. We ordered three pieces: one coconut chess, one orange creamsicle (bizarre, right?), one old fashioned apple. The coconut, probably the best of the three, was good but not great. I've had at least three versions of this pie flavor that are better, including one objectively perfected by my great-grand mother and recently revived by my mom. Undoubtedly, the prices of these slices are affecting my perception of their taste, but at $7 a slice, I don't think I can be faulted. On the plus side, they did have Diet Coke in a glass bottle, something I don't ever recall seeing before. On this hot and sticky day, it is close to the best soda I've ever consumed. 

The final food stop of our journey is an institution worthy of concluding this trip. Ben's Chili Bowl is one of the most famous restaurants in D.C., it's popularity recently bolstered by King Midas Obama himself. A favorite of Bill Cosby, there is a sign on the wall that reads, "These people eat free at Ben's: Bill Cosby, The Obama Family, no one else". The line to get into the door, which is monitored by an attendant no less, extends into the adjacent alleyway. It moves briskly however and we are inside ordering large quantities of chili-laden meat and potatoes within 20 minutes. Taking the recommendation of Scott, I order a chili half-smoke, a smoked sausage topped with chili. Because I hate myself and don't want any of my clothes to fit anymore, I add a side of fries and large soda to the order. Good thing we just had pie. 

I'm not sure if it is the heat or the crowd - in addition to the masses we are joined at our seats-four-squishes-five booth by Scott's sister and her male-yet-undetermined-relationship-status companion - or the compounding of food these past 18 days, but I am not able to complete more than 55 percent of my meal despite the food being pretty much everything I love. But this is it, I can eat no more. The food portion of this adventure ends here.

Needing to walk off about 15 pounds, we take in a few more sights our nation's capitol has to offer. Having been here before it opened, the one stop high on my list of to see is the WWII Memorial. It is a beautiful and deserving memorial and I am slightly swelled with American pride as I take it all in - that is until we reach the fountain. Apparently, once the temperature reaches a certain degree, any large pool of water at a public place becomes a wading pool for child and adult alike. It doesn't matter if the intended purpose of the water, in this case the fountain, is to honor the brave men and women who defended the world from fascist superpowers; if it cools you down, America's feet are all in, signage be damned. 

Back at Scott's, I shower once more and attempt to pack my carry-on one last time. It was very full when we began this trip, but now I am fairly certain it is not possible to actually fit more inside. It is definitely more than the allotted weight permitted by airlines. If this bag survives this trip back to Seattle, I will whole-heartedly endorse it to all who will listen, as it will have survived a rough trip to France, holiday travel to Arizona and now a voyage across the United States. Though saddened to conclude this trip - and to trade this lifestyle in for a cubicle and corporate job - I am ready to be back in Seattle. 

As I often do to not forget, I write this down while on the airplane and writing previous days blogs:  

I'm pretty sure it's not okay to lift the arm rests of the seats in the planes, even if in the middle seat and have rights to the arm rests, if you don't know the person(s) sitting next to you

I also think it's wrong to read other people's laptop screens if you don't know them, but in this case, I am happy you did and allowed the armrest to return to it's intended place and function. Thanks. 

So that's it. Scott Lee is home safely and I am better for accompanying him on this journey. A special thank you to all of you who helped us with recommendations, put us up in their homes, broke bread with us, watched a cat, and read along. I don't have any inspiring concluding words and we've already covered lessons learned in the debrief, so cue the Explosions in the Sky and roll credits.

Clear eyes, full hearts…

Meghann Glavin Highlight of the Day:

Mike: Going home

Scott: Sending Mike home

Tomorrow's Agenda

Route: Seattle > Seattle

Estimated Distance: 0 miles

Estimated Time: 0 hours

Screw You Troy Ruckman: Lessons Learned From The Road

We've made it! As the trip to White Castle has finally been realized, we figured we would put together a list of what we learned driving through America:

1. Despite recent advancements in technology (i.e. iphones, gps), bring an atlas. Also, when using any of the above, make sure the owner knows how to actually read it.

2. Always travel with a foodie, you’re guaranteed good food at every stop.

3. When driving on the highway in the State of Washington, it is illegal to drive in the left lane unless passing.

4. No matter how tempting, it is probably not a good idea to touch the buffalo.

5. Check the weather before you camp. Never wear a sweatshirt and shorts when sleeping in a tent and it is 35 degrees outside. Broader yet, never sleep in a tent when it is 35 degrees outside.

6. Bacon is the single most versatile campfire cooking ingredient. Do not go camping without a pan and bacon.

7. Laundry that costs $120 in the Radisson Park Minneapolis Hotel comes out the same as $12.00 laundry at an Asian-owned dry cleaner.

8. Always check the distance between your destinations. Despite what ESPN reporters say, Cleveland is not right next door to Chicago.

9. Fix your air conditioning before entering the 100% humidity of the east.

10. They play at a casino for a reason.

11. M.I.A. has always been, and always will be, weird.

12. A Manhattan is always better when it costs $15 and is sipped in Manhattan.13. Do not stop in Newark. For anything.

14. Prisons are actually some of the more interesting museums you can visit.

15. Based on what you learn there, never actually go to prison.

16. Do not buy too many souvenirs; just get the free stuff (beer from tours, traitor jerseys from trash, food from waitresses).

17. Racism has no place in this world, but especially not when it comes to sandwiches. Shame on you Gino.

18. Spread your friends out geographically. At least the ones with guest rooms.

19. No matter what your friend Troy Ruckman says, the car will always make it across the country.

20. Enjoy the ride.

Day 18: Out of my shell

"Crab and hula hoops, that's what Maryland does." 

Like Sundays after a Scott Lee/Mark Tanjutco production, you can tell it's close to the end of a long road trip when you no longer care when you wake up, as long as you eventually do so. I wake up at 11:20am, just enough time to enjoy a muffin and get ready for the long day ahead.

With a cooler-than-cool friend of Collen's in tow (and Scott Lee East Coast Circle of Friends version of Eileen Hansen to boot), we head out to Annapolis to my first real crab house experience. We strike out at our first stop, which has an hour wait despite being located in the middle of nowhere and being 3:00pm on a Saturday. We nearly run out of gas before arriving at Buddy's for what is to be the most interactive and educational eating experience on this trip.

Zeal, one of Collen's strengths/weaknesses, is in full effect when she decides two dozen crabs should suffice. It should be noted here our next stop is an engagement party that may or may not be semi-formal. It starts in 45 minutes and while me and Scott are wearing shorts, the girls are dressed the part. Here are things I learned while trying to eat six whole crabs, at a rapid pace, for the first time:

• Don't wear a white shirt, even if you pride yourself on being a cleanly diner. If you are of the messy variety, don't even wear white underwear. 
• The male crab has a Washington Monument, the female a Capitol Dome. You start disassembling the crab at either of these points. 
• Scott Lee learned the above fact in school, where they learned how to clean a crab in class. It may also be how Scott's parents taught him about the differences between boys and girls.
• Use the provided tools. Your fingers will get tired and you will get crabby (bad pun, intended).
• Much like chicken wings and bbq, you will smell like crabs and old bay long after you finish eating. Crab houses might be the incorrect venues for pre-gaming engagement parties with people you've never met  before. 

As expected Scott and Colleen make quick work of their respective half-dozens, cleaning and eating with the efficiency of seasoned pros. The rookies at the table fair slightly worse, but respectable for their first times, with no major injuries or stains achieved. The crab is deliciously clean and fresh, the process fun and social. I wish we had hours to sit and talk and crack shells, but the bride- and groom-to-be await. We get through a total of 20 crabs, taking four home with us on top of a bag of ice and bucket purchased at the neighboring CVS.

About an hour past fashionably late, we arrive at the engagement party of Matt and Anne. Scott went to high school with Anne. Colleen lived with her. Georgina, our forth, went to undergrad with her. Everyone appears to know everyone else several times over. Outside of the three people I came with, I have met one other person previously. But just like the rest of Scott's friends, these are good people, and they welcome me with warm smiles and cold beer. Anne, of vivacious and contagious energy, is particularly welcoming and it does not go unnoticed by her last-minute, appreciative guest. The future bride is glowing; a combination of the good friends she's in the company with and the spectacular Maryland heat, which has reached new levels of intensity. I have no words to express the warmth I felt as I ate barbecue under a tent outside and now have  a newfound respect for the phrase, "at least it's a dry heat". While we made our share of tactical errors (list coming to a blog near you soon), Scott's call of shorts today was one of the greatest clothing decisions of 2010.

At the party, I hula hooped for the first time in nearly a decade. And by hula hooped, I mean I failed to spin a plastic hoop around my waist more than three times before it fell to the ground, costing me a chance to advance in the bracket. And by bracket, I mean a 48-party guest bracket for champion hula hooper. Predictably the tournament concluded with three females vying for the title. Unpredictably, the winner was not the woman who could walk, dance, and drink beer while hooping nor was it the pregnant woman who was a former rhythmic gymnast. And that's the beauty of competitive hula hooping, on any given disgustingly muggy Saturday…

Tomorrow, I fly home.

Meghann Glavin Highlight of the Day:

Mike:  Attempting to clean crabs
Scott:  Watching Mike attempt to clean crabs

Tomorrow's Agenda
Route: Baltimore > Seattle
Estimated Distance: 2,740 miles
Estimated Time: 6 hours

Day 17: The prodigal son returns

"Wait, like Standard Oil Rockefeller?"

I'm certain of it. Air Conditioning is in fact one of man's top 15 greatest accomplishments, settling in nicely alongside sandwiches and sports. The drive from Philadelphia to our final stop - Scott Lee's home in Silver Spring, MD to be exact - seals the deal with a 15-minute-going-on-1.5-hour traffic delay that adheres me to the seat in ways unknown to 3M. I've noticed several of my friends in Arizona posting pictures on Facebook of their car dashboard temperature displays reading 116 degrees. Having spent more than 90 percent of my life there, I can empathize with their situation. Our car dash shows only 100, but with punishing humidity and only open windows providing relief, I think we win this round. We survive nonetheless, crossing the finish line in our 15th state in 17 days and effectively ending our official time on the road. The next four hours highlight four more of man's greatest feats; the shower, tv, wireless internet and naps.

Our lone activity of the day makes up for the last difficult leg:  baseball in one of the great American ballparks, Camden Yards. The stadium is beautiful, even with thousands of empty seats. Ricky Romero throws five-innings of a perfect game, more than enough to defeat the punchless O's, but I enjoy the experience altogether. Even Scott's parking error that forces us to walk an extra 15 minutes in the heat to the stadium.

During the 7th inning stretch, they play John Denver's Thank God I'm A Country Boy. The crowd dances and sings along with more passion and fervor than they cheer for the team.

In the 8th inning I go to the team shop to get a souvenir for my nephew Caden. I end up with a Baltimore Oriole's monkey that is discounted 33 percent for this game specifically, even though no one can tell me why there is a stuffed monkey in Oriole's gear in the first place (it claims to be a rally monkey on the tag, but I am unaware of any such comeback animals habituating Camden). While in the checkout line I fall victim to the impulse items at the counter and end up purchasing two packs of baseball cards - one a 2009 Upper Deck for Caden (I'm assuming his first and hopefully not last) and one for myself, an interesting 2006 Topps Allen and Ginter pack on sale for $2. I don't remember the last time I bought baseball cards, probably as a light-hearted gift for my then roommate Aaron Royster, but opening this pack in the stands instantly reminds me of my youth and the endless time spent studying, sorting, trading and pining after pieces of glossy cardboard.

The cards I pull from this pack are amongst the most beautifully done I've ever seen. I get a miniature Nick Markakis, a Prince Fielder rookie and two titans of industry, John Rockefeller and Andrew Carnegie. Yes, you read that right. After a quick google search informs me I can find U.S. Presidents (Abe Lincoln, Grover Cleveland), historical figures (Kaiser Wilhelm II, Thomas Edison), American Outlaws (Billy the Kid, Jesse James), and random sports heroes (Takeru Kobayashi, Hulk Hogan) I return to the team store to purchase the remainder of the hobby box, 23 packs of cards in all. After Christmas for me and Scott back in his kitchen, and a complex taxonomy of the cards completed by Colleen, we discover unopened boxes of this set are going for close to $300 on eBay. Oops. I consider going back to Camden to empty out their stock, but instead we reminisce about simpler times and  just enjoy the art and obscurity of these cards. In conjunction with the advent of fantasy sports, cards cement baseball as the greatest sport ever. In the words of my friend Todd Greenberg, "Hooray Baseball!"

Tomorrow's Agenda
Route: Silver Springs > Annapolis
Estimated Distance: 34 miles
Estimated Time: 43 minutes

Day 16: Sandwich Day

"Screw you, Gino's"

Today I will eat four different sandwiches and live to tell about it. It is glorious.

In order to make it through the day, we are splitting sandwiches amongst the three of us for the first two stops, then just Scott and myself for the last two after we drop Megan off at the airport. Our day, Megan's last, starts in the Reading Market, home to many great eateries but none more important or greater than Tommy DiNic's. Tommy himself is there and recommends we get the roast pork, half with sweet peppers and half with broccoli rabe, all with sharp provolone cheese. We sit at his counter and enjoy this simple, yet beautiful sandwich for breakfast. A few minutes later, sandwich consumed and us ready to depart, we begin an hour long conversation with a lawyer sitting next to us eating on-the-house roasted hot peppers from a cup that ultimately involves himself (name not recalled), two more lawyer friends (all in suits, one probably very important), Tommy, and Tommy's grandson (age 9, maybe).

We talk about school, politics, sandwiches, immigration, life, road trips, salsa (brought over by one gentlemen who insists we try it by the forkful; we do, it is very good, and quite hot), places of residence, career ambitions and family. An older man (80ish), newspaper folded underarm, walks behind the counter, hands Tommy a penny he says he owes him from yesterday, grabs a cup, pours himself coffee and leaves. Everyone knows Tommy, everyone loves Tommy. The lawyer went to college with him and says "these kids are doin' what we shoulda done when we were their age, Tom". And he's right. Moments like this are why. There will be a time 30-odd years from now when Scott Lee is sitting at my counter, eating his namesake sandwich, telling kids like us to make sure they hit DiNic's when they are in Philly.

Before sandwich stop number two, we decide to take in some culture, Philly style. This means prisons and statues of beloved fictional characters. Eastern State Penitentiary, our second such landmark on this trip, convinces me it is the most interesting prison in the country outside of Alcatraz. It is the model for all modern penitentiaries in the country, has a self-guided audio tour narrated by Steve Buscemi, housed Al Capone, and looks like a castle - what more do you need?

The Philadelphia Art Museum is a beautiful building and is home to some fantastic pieces, including a special late Renoir exhibit. We go see the Rocky statue and climb the stairs out front instead. Impressionism has been around since the 19th century, it'll be here later; we are on a sandwich schedule.

Round two is the first of two cheesesteaks, Jim's Steaks. Going traditional, we get steak, onions, Cheez Whiz. It is everything I had hoped for and more. The line is rightfully out the door, the tables upstairs rightfully packed. As we are only a month out of business school we note the price of a plain sandwich is $6.70 and the price of one with Cheez Whiz is $7.45. The sandwich builder uses one spoonful of Cheez Whiz per sandwich, from a giant can of Whiz undoubtedly obtained wholesale. If memory serves me, Cheez Whiz costs negative $6 per can because it is so awful and not a real foodstuff, which means they are making infinity profit margin on the addition of Whiz. Brilliant business model.

It is time for Megan to depart us for Boston and we oblige before eating two more sandwiches. She was a trooper throughout and will be missed. Enjoy the lobster in Maine. Our gas mileage improves with the subtraction of 97 pounds.

After sweating in out in I-95 traffic we make it to the controversial home of the original Philly Cheesesteak: Gino's and Pat's. Originally we had intended to do a side-by-side comparison of both, but found out Gino's is a racist establishment and we decided to boycott. They have a sign by their order window that reads, "This is America, when ordering speak English" and recently held a rally in support of AZ bill 1070, raising money for the legal defense. Gino's staff is also supposedly incredibly racist and owner Joey Vento is on record saying if his customers order in any other language, he'll give them Cheez Whiz on bread. He also has this monstrosity of a facade on his shop. Please join us in never eating at this horrible place. We eat at Pat's only and it is a fine cheesesteak, no need to look further than this place for the original.

The last stop on the tour of sandwiches, Sarcone's, is just up the street in the Italian Market. They make us the best hoagie I've ever had, period. They own a bakery a few doors down that provides the bread, bread that sells out regularly. The meat is well seasoned, the toppings fresh and perfectly suited. We are full, we are content.

Yes, we do eat dinner and it is just as delicious as anything we had today. Dessert though, that is a rare Philly treat. Take a look.

It's called a gelati and it is made of layers of soft serve and shaved ice called water ice locally. I've had something like this in Vancouver, B.C. last year and it was almost as good as this. I will be opening one in AZ in short time, stay tuned.

Scott Lee and Mike Ham's Philadelphia Sandwich Rankings and the Meghann Glavin Highlight of the Day (official):

1. DiNic's
2. Jim's Steak
3. Sarcone's
4. Pat's King of Steak

That's it for Philadelphia, PA. It's real late here, so apologies for any typos, I'll edit TBD. Tomorrow is DC/Baltimore and Camden Yard.

Tomorrow's Agenda
Route: Philadelphia > Washington, D.C.
Estimated Distance:  137 miles
Estimated Time: 2 hours, 46 minutes

Day 15: A four-letter word spelled N-E-W-A-R-K

"This place smells"

This morning Scott Lee left his new, unused umbrella at the bagel shop setting the stage for our most challenging day of the trip. Here comes the rant.

Humidity is horrible and everywhere we go today is humid. I have a new appreciation for the dry heat of Arizona, even though it is 115 degrees there. I know the humidity I'm feeling today isn't bad relative to other places in the country, but I'm going to complain anyway because it feels like I just took a shower with my clothes on. Also, did I mention I'm in the car? Air conditioning might be one of man's top 15 greatest achievements.

You can't see this, and I'm lazy, but the two stickers on his window say "Size Matters" and "I (heart) Roadhead". The two gentlemen wave politely when they cut us off.

Because of this stupid blog, and because we both have never been, we take an ill-advised sidetracked trip to White Castle. In Newark. God have mercy on Newark, for it is truly everything negative everyone says it is. I don't know if traffic is always atrocious in this city, but today was dentist trip/bill bad. We just want to go to White Castle, 4 miles off the turnpike. It takes near 40 minutes to get there. And we sweat.

White Castle is easily the worst fast-food I've ever eaten. Worse than the Mexican trifecta of terrible (taco bell, del taco, taco time). Worse than Weinerschnitzel. I remember the frozen ones I use to have as a kid being at least 33 percent better than what I'm eating now, but maybe I just have fond memories of childhood. Megan cannot eat more than one bite of hers, proclaiming, "the bathroom is clean" the best part of this meal. There is a McDonald's across the street and I am tempted to go to cleanse my palate.

The rain we anticipated is brutal. For long stretches, visibility is measured in feet, on one hand. The worst part is the aftermath in Camden, a city we get lost in when the GPS decides to drive us in circles. Camden is not prepared for this much water and is flooded horribly. We pass a particularly ill-conceived parking lot that is now a marina, with water covering parked cars to their hoods, or bonnets as Jeremy Clarkson would say. The thought of Top Gear aquatic car challenges are the only thing making me happy right now. More traffic, flood related.

Four hours. We do 98 miles in four hours. Awesome.

Finally in Philadelphia, we do a whirlwind American history tour, seeing the Liberty Bell and Constitution Hall in 90 minutes or less. I take lots of pictures of Asian people learning about America. Urge to kill, falling.

We are greeted at our residence for this stop by Becky and Greg, an all-star husband and wife tandem living in a great house in a great neighborhood. Becky is yet another one of Scott's childhood friends; I'm continuously amazed at the longevity of his friendships though not at all surprised. We are refreshed by the hospitality (and rest and water and air conditioning) and set out for the evening with one more Scott Lee childhood friend (Leslie) joining us. The night is capped with Quizzo, the local bar trivia game, at Urban Saloon. With table clothes, flat screen televisions, candlelight and microbrews, this is by far the classiest trivia night I've attended. The trivia is also one of the best run I've participated in, using the tv's to post the questions and the stereo for audio questions. Our team does above-average, nailing some challenging questions (show with most Emmys, Mel Gibson movie character names) but ultimately coming up short by dropping the ball on gimmes (lyrics of Smells Like Teen Spirit, words on Mr. Peanut's hat).  Losing aside, this is the perfect end to a struggle of a day.

Tomorrow is last day before Scott Lee returns home, but not the last on this trip. It is also the day of sandwiches, perhaps the most eagerly awaited day for me.

Tomorrow's Agenda
Route: Philadelphia > Philadelphia
Estimated Distance:  0 miles
Estimated Time: 0 hours, 0 minutes

Mike's First Guggenheim Exhibit

Currently at the Guggenheim, there is a photo exhibit of random crap few would consider art. I'm sure some are very serious compositions by very famous talent, but many others were confusing, ridiculous and unnecessary. You might say the same about what you are about to see. I call it: Roy, in costume.