Shelley and Christopher's Oregon Trail Adventure Part 2: Gray Skies Ahead

Before I begin the next leg of the journey, I just wanted to point out that Christopher and I discovered along the way that we have vastly different tastes in music.  This became a bit of an issue on such a long trip.  He tolerated one Keane CD and the entire 10th Anniversary performance of Les Miserable, so instead of torturing him with a nostalgic listen of "The best of the A*Teens" I let him pick the music for the next round.  As you read, you have a choice of songs between Billie Holiday's All of Me or Johnny Bond's Stars of the Midnight Range. Luckily, this musical conundrum was partially solved by listening to The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane which I highly recommend.  I will say that this book would have probably been better suited for a trip through New England during the fall as opposed to a move out west in the summer.

On the third day we experienced chilly weather; there seemed to be a light gray blanket engulfing the skies.  A slight drizzle accompanied us through Illinois and in to Wisconsin.  It felt like a dreary fall day rather than the heat of the summer! The drive to Minneapolis did not allow for too many interesting sights but we did pass through Milwaukee.

By the time we reached Minneapolis, our stop for the night, dusk had set in.  I had hoped to explore the Mall of America while we were there but I was drowsy from my allergies and we were both tired from driving all day.  We planned on getting up early the next morning since we had a 9-10 hour day ahead of us with a stop in the middle. The sunset did allow for a beautiful view of the city and we both got lovely pictures from the parking deck of our hotel. 

  I managed to find a great deal at the Hyatt Regency and the inside of the hotel was sleek, modern, and swanky.  The staff member who checked us in had a friendly, midwestern demeanor.  Our room was just lovely, but the soft pillows were the best part.  

We decided to explore a little around the hotel and chose a Chinese restaurant to eat at a block down. The food was pretty tasty but later I began to break out in eczema from the soy. I scratched all night long.  If it weren't for the pillows I wouldn't have been able to sleep.  I'm sure I looked a little frightening the next day when we checked out! In an attempt to be a little healthier we grabbed some expensive fruit cups  for breakfast from the hotel market.  

A demonstration in healthy eating "on the go." 

The blue skies were a welcome sight as we drove out of the city.

Little did we know that the day was about to take a very dark turn...

We reached the border of South Dakota around mid-afternoon.  Aside from a few interesting signs the view was mostly widespread gold and green plains that seem to go on for miles.  

Around lunchtime we stopped in a Wal-Mart parking lot to meet up with Christopher's friend Drew from his WW 2 reenacting days in high school. Drew was working on a Mink Farm for the summer in an attempt to learn farming skills and techniques to prepare for mission work abroad.  He was very friendly, polite and dressed like an Amish man sans the hat but with the beard, so I imagine he'd look perfect in downtown Portland.  We followed him down several gravely roads, past acres of cornfields and in to a place of sadness. As we drove in, it looked like any typical farm in South Dakota.

Immediately after exiting the car one of the worst smells I have ever experienced assaulted my nostrils.  Christopher and I exchanged grimaced looks.  One of the sons of the owners came to greet us along with a few workers.  Everyone was really welcoming and polite.  The farmer's son informed us that we'd chosen the worst possible time (other than gassing day I assume) to visit because they were preparing the mink paste.  The smell can only be described as combining all the grossest scents you've ever experience while wrapped in vomit.  Drew walked us over to the mink shelters, demonstrating how they take them out of their cages.  

The poor guy he pulled out ended up peeing everywhere.  I just felt really depressed looking at the tiny cages they were housed in, knowing that their lives would come to an abrupt end sometime in September.

The next two images of minks demonstrate my feelings perfectly:

Sadness

and 

Anger

The next picture gives a better look at the meat paste they ate.

We then walked to another section where they process and churn the meat paste.  The plan was to then go out to lunch but Christopher realized our time was running out as we had at least 5 more hours of driving to do before we reached the hotel.  We chatted for a little longer and Christopher gave Drew a few of my granddaddy's books from his days as a Methodist minister.  Later on, Christopher explained to me that Drew was also pretty upset about the fate of the minks.  He was planning on returning home before the gassing in the fall. Most of the furs would then be sold to places in Russia and China. Traumatized and smelly we headed out again towards Belle Fourche our last stop for the day.  There was just hours and hours of flat land and very few places to stop for gas or food.  As night descended we began to realize that it would be 11pm before we arrived at the hotel, so we called ahead to let them know.  It was almost eerie how dark and desolate the little town was with only a light or two to guide us.  The manager greeted us, looking disheveled in his pajamas (I was just grateful he let us in).  I was little less relieved upon entering the room when I was met with a strong hint of cigarette smoke.  The carpet was pretty stained as well.  Luckily our sheets were clean and the bathroom was decent. From this picture it doesn't look too terrible. 

However, the real issue was that the Hyatt Regency room in Minneapolis was cheaper than this place! We turned in quickly, ready to end the day.  The next morning I was in a cheerier mood when I remembered that the hotel had a free breakfast.  That mood soon turned a little sour when I discovered that the "free breakfast" consisted of two juice dispensers that didn't work, two choices of cereal that produced a few flakes every time you twisted the dispense tube, and four or five flavors of expired yogurt.  After turning in our key we scurried out of there for another McDonald's breakfast.  Fortunately for us, breakfast was the only disappointment of the day.  Onward we went to experience the beauty of both natural and man-made wonders....

Shelley and Christopher's Oregon Trail Adventure Part 1: A Familiar Start

There is something exhilarating about the idea of a road trip, especially across the wide expanse of the American countryside.  Just the idea of travel is exciting and full of so many unknown possibilities.  This journey was not just a vacation, but a fresh start.  The end of the trip was just the beginning of all the adventures I've had since moving across the country. I was lucky to have a very enthusiastic companion, my boyfriend Christopher, who spent hours mapping out our route. He dubbed our trip "the 2013 Oregon Trail." This is our route.  Here is the 1843 Map of the Oregon Trail path early settlers took for a comparison.

As you begin reading, you can listen along to Silenced By the Night, my ideal road trip song.

In late July, on a beautiful, warm North Carolina morning Christopher and I pulled out of my grandparents driveway.  The car was packed tightly with most of my worldly belongings; we had snacks,  water bottles, and a stack of $5 McDonald's gift cards. My eyes were blurry with tears as I looked up at the people who had supported me through the shaky beginnings of adulthood.  I cried as I thought of my sister, close friends, the familiar sights and sounds, because crying helped the new ache I felt from missing them. The world felt surreal and overly bright as I passed the familiar houses and stores.  I'm sure the situation was fairly awkward for Christopher because he was filled with excitement but he kindly patted my shoulder and spoke words of comfort.  Eventually the tears dried as the sights changed.  We drove on towards the mountains and through Boone, stopping for gas and McDonald's (I'm pretty sure I'm still digesting all the burgers and fries I ate on this trip). In the late afternoon we crossed in to Tennessee, which made Christopher very excited because he'd never been there before.

                                           He was impressed with the beautiful, rolling hills.
We also drove through Kentucky and the Cumberland Gap but much to our disappointment, it was just a tunnel.

Once we got in to Ohio, Christopher took over the driving as he'd been through this next area on a previous trip.

My always welcoming and generous aunt and uncle (my mom's brother and his wife) let us stay with them the first night. Upon arriving at their house, I had a terrible allergy attack.  My eyes became itchy, swollen, and red.  My already aggravated skin became worse.  An hour beforehand we had been driving with the windows down and I reasoned the pollen had really angered my immune system.  Part of the reason I decided to move across the country was to improve my allergies.  Unfortunately I was forced to take a Benadryl, spending the evening fighting drowsiness so I could enjoy the visit.  Bryce, my younger cousin, proudly flipped burgers for the first time (they were delicious by the way).  My aunt had prepared tasty sides; we had a great time recounting the things we'd seen so far and giving updates on family. After dinner we went out with Aunt Sue and Bryce for ice cream at Graeter's,  a place made famous by one of Oprah's "favorite things" episodes.  As he licked his treat Christopher mused "well I guess I'll have to admit that Oprah and I have at least one thing in common." The next day my Uncle Tim and older cousin Trevor joined us for a late lunch before Christopher and I began Day 2.  I wished we could have spent hours just laughing and chatting.  I felt a wave of sadness as we pulled off on to the highway again.

We drove onwards through Indiana and in to Illinois as our next stop was the house of Christopher's cousin.  They live in a small town an hour or so outside of Chicago.  Christopher and I had a blast driving through cornfields with the windows down as the clean, clear air brushed past our faces.

It felt like we drove past acres and acres of cornfields before arriving at their house which was, of course, right across from a cornfield.  Though they'd never met me and had not seen Christopher in years, they made us feel right at home. We ate Italian take out with his cousin, her husband, and two children.  After dinner, she brought out a stack of photographs of Christopher's grandmother (his father's mother) and his great aunts.  His cousin proceeded to tell all sorts of stories about their crazy antics.  Christopher's great-grandparents had owned a tavern in Chicago and spoiled their three daughters constantly.  Christopher's great-aunts lived with his cousin in old age and were just as mischievous then as they were as teenagers.  We laughed so hard, tears streamed down our faces.  His cousin commented that it had done her soul good to talk about them now that they had all passed.  The next morning she arose early to make copies of some of the pictures for Christopher and a really nice breakfast. Along with the pictures, Christopher left with a cane and the bible his great-grandparents brought over from Poland with them. 

We headed out, surprised by the chilly temperature in late July.  Wrapped in a coat and blanket I was drowsy from taking yet more Benadryl but full of anticipation for our next leg of the journey, full of the unfamiliar. 

Honor, Courage, Commitment

Veteran's Day has always been an important holiday to recognize and show respect for the many men and women who have given their time, commitment, and lives to protecting and serving the United States.  This year is especially poignant for me as Osvaldo Diaz Espada, my grandfather and WW2 Veteran, passed away only a few weeks ago.  Enjoy the Armed Forces Medley as I reflect on the life and passing of my grandfather.

The last time I saw "Grandpa Ozzie" before his death was at Kristi's graduation.  He was so proud of "the baby" as he called her.  I cherish the fact that I was blessed with this time to see him spry and full of his famous "witticisms." At dinner that evening he proudly looked over the table at Kristi and I and said "look at what I produced!" It always struck me that he was never one to boast about his own accomplishments but couldn't get over the achievements of his family.  I know one day I'll see him again in heaven.  I imagine he'll be in his tweed jacket and cap, a giant smile on his face and say:        "There she is!"

                                              Our last picture together at Kristi's graduation.

My own college graduation.  I hope I will look this cool in my 90's. 

Grandpa posing with 2 out of his 4 "princesses." 

He loved and respected my mother.  He once told my older sister Julie,"that woman is no lemon." 

Here he is walking with style to Julie's wedding with his older son, Peter.  At the funeral, Uncle Peter gave a touching speech about grandpa.  He was a simple man who loved his country, his family, and helping the many people in his community in need.  Yet, he still remains a bit of a puzzle.

There are so many stories and moments that Grandpa took with him when he died. After the funeral, I looked at hundreds of pictures which provided a window into the younger, more mysterious life of Osvaldo Espada. What has always remained clear was that he served his country with Honor, Courage, and Commitment. 

He would say about every man and woman in service: "Those guys, they are no lemons."

And So It Begins...

Hello Blogging World!  I begin my journey in the blogosphere with the purpose of recording and sharing a time in my life where I am at a crossroads of sorts.  When you read novels and/or see films about a mid-20's someone feeling uncertain about their direction in life,  they generally learn important lessons while meeting a colorful cast of characters and, at least with movies, Jack Johnson-eqsue/indie band music plays in the background.  I think every day brings a slew of important life lessons if we take the time to stop and notice them. I just recently moved to Portland so there is a good chance of meeting a "colorful, quirky" character at least once every 30 minutes, and I have decided to provide a song to set the tone for every post.  As you read the next little bit, play this: Upside Down.

(Anyone reading this probably knows me personally, but just humor me with this introduction)

"Hi my name is Shelley.  I'd say I was a fairly typical human being with a few personal quirks thrown in the mix.  I just recently moved to the Portland, OR area after spending the majority of my life living near  and in the Furniture Capital of the World. I felt the pull of wanderlust, the promise of health improvements, and the welcome of my West Coast  family to leave a place I called home for more than two decades.  No matter where you are going it is always with a heavy heart if you have to say goodbye to people you love.  I have been blessed to have lived enough places and loved enough people where I am never without the feeling that I am missing someone.  On good days I look like this:

My identity has always partially been coupled with one or more food allergies, my slightly uncontrollable hair, and my somewhat overactive imagination.  The last may make me a bit of an unreliable narrator in my own life's story but no one's perspective on life is completely reliable. I hope someone, somewhere will procure at least a little bit of entertainment from my southern observations on "weird Portland," a bread lovers anguish over a grain-free diet, and adventures of all sorts during this "qarter-life" crossroads. 

(So, the song isn't over yet, but maybe you could enjoy it while doing laundry or something.)

Let the journey begin! :)