create your own visited countries map
Courtesy of somebody on flickr… Apparently I have visited 9% of the world’s countries. Guess it’s by number, not landmass or population.
… and 82% of the states in these United States.
create your own visited states map or check out these Google Hacks.
Thank you to all of my friends who tracked me down to verify that I had not mysteriously perished somewhere in Washington state after loading all those pictures and starting the Olympic entry. I did not perish, and I’m very alive and sitting in a Ramada (correctly pronounced RA-ma-dah with the accent on the first syllable, for all of you who went to Daly’s wedding or wish you had) Inn in Indiana east of St. Louis on I-70.
I promise to get caught up again while in Ohio in between wakeboarding and losing my tail in golf.
I’ll be home by Monday, May 9th in PA. Talk to you soon.
Paul
Strangely or perhaps not so strangely, I repeated, mile for mile, a drive I have done before - the Denver, CO to Dayton, OH, stretch of road known as I-70. When I PCSed from Luke to Spang, Greg flew out to Phoenix and we drove up to Denver to hang out with Uncle Tom and Aunt Janet, and then drove in two days over to Dayton, where I had friends at Wright-Patterson AFB. Well, everyone’s a little older, but I still have family in Denver and (different) friends in Dayton at WPAFB.
The drive was incredibly boring, but I managed to hit two Roadfood establishments on the way. In Salinas, KS, I ate at the Cozy Inn, a five-stool burger joint that apparently spawned the term “slider.” (As in, White Castle, Krystal, the tiny little burgers that you buy by the bagfull.) The little patties are full of minced onion, and if you order them with condiments, the girl working the grill will load them up for you before serving them. Tasty!
Unfortunately, I was a little complacent after such a delightful meal, and I got my first, last, and only speeding ticket of the trip shortly thereafter, still in Kansas, doing 70 in a work zone restricted to 60. He got me fair and square; my only gripe was that the rest of the traffic, safely a half mile ahead, was leaving me in the dust b/c they were doing 70+ easily. Oh well; it was bound to happen evenutally.
Continuing on my quest for the 1000-mile day, I crossed into Missouri, and blasted across until I hit St. Louis. Downtown, in a not-the-greatest section of town, in the pouring rain, I finally found the rib joint I was looking for. I didn’t feel bold enough to get the pig ears; just ribs and some chicken. I ate in the car, and watched bolts of lightning go every which way through the clouds as I crossed the mighty Mississippi into Illinois. At around the 940-mile mark, I had to go to bed. I couldn’t drive another 60 miles, so I gave up and paid for (gasp!) a hotel room. It was completely worth it; sleeping in the car would’ve been a huge pain. The next day dawned hot and clear, and I hit the highway again after a lousy excuse for a continental breakfast on the way to Ohio.
I spent a relaxing weekend in Denver with my Uncle Tom and Aunt Janet and their dog(s), just hanging out, cooking, talking about plans and the trip. Holly flew in to recharge as well, and we were able to make it to Rocky Mountain National Park, where we got rained on a little and saw a ton of elk. We also (naturally) were snapping pictures the whole time, and finally right as we were heading back to the park entrance to leave, the skies opened up and turned blue, and we took some incredible shots from the middle of a mountain field of snow-capped peaks with ragged clounds blowing over the ridges, wet grass glistening below around lone pines and foothill shrubs, with the afternoon sun beaming right at the camera. I’ll tag Holly’s pics with her name so you’ll know they’re hers.
Those guys you see from the chairlift and think, “Oh, why?” Because the girls on the mountain were doing it too, and we like to encourage that sort of thing.
Mike hosted me in Ogden, and totally wore me out.
Round One: I got in late, and we got up early and went snowboarding at Snowbird, a big ‘ol 11,000-footer sitting right in the second row of peaks in from Ogden. I hadn’t been on a board in 3 years, except for the ankle-injuring incident in Dec. that didn’t really count b/c it was a tiny slope. Wait ’til you see the pics of us shirtless and video of the jumps. That’s right, watch and weep. No shirt and a helmet is the height of cool. I want to remember my 20s as the decade when I could do this kind of stuff without thinking too much about it. Here’s to never feeling stupid about taking your shirt off! Postscript to self: Mike is an excellent driver. Never fear his competance and timing.
Round Two: We played 9 holes of golf with some of Mike’s friends from work. I hadn’t picked up a golf club in 2 1/2 years, but it went OK after the first two holes. With the demo set of Callaways, I was smacking ‘em pretty well off the tee. Irons didn’t go so well until the end, and my pitching game has deteriorated to the point where it’s not really a strong part of my game anymore. Hopefully all of this will return with practice.
Round Three: I had been clubbing in the last few years once or twice, but we went downtown to Salt Lake City and found some good solid dance clubs. Then we came home and slept soundly, and I got up and drove through Wyoming to Denver.
An excellent survey of what Ogden/SLC has to offer. Thanks, Mike.
I am really happy that i got to visit Billy and Sarah and their possibly-a-male parrot. We had a blast touring the Wash. State U. (WSU, prounounced Wuh-ZOO) campus, eating lunch at their favorite burger joint, drinnking Coronas, and watching late-night movies once Billy reconfigured his subwoofer. Billy generously allowed me to take his AS 300 classes through some case studies, and we ate lunch with one cadet who was trying to figure out what to do with his life, and bears an uncanny similarity to me in competancies and interests when I was 22. I of course recommended aircraft maintenance, which always sounds like fun until you’re doing it. We’ll see… nothing like jumping right in to something completely new and owning it. I also was able to share some Field Training wisdom with the cadets, also Field Training is completely sissified since I went through. Ten minutes to eat?! Sheesh. Nothing like being able to practice laying out your toiletries drawer two months before you’re there. Takes all the stress and learn-under-fire dimension out of it. Goodness knows that’s not what being a 2d Lt is like - they just throw you to the wolves and you learn.
I cooked RPG again (Iraq vets, get out from under the tables; that’s Roasted Pepper Goulash. This is a peacetime blog, ‘member?) Sadly, neither Billy nor Sarah wanted to teach me how to ride a motorcycle on their twin Harleys, so I still haven’t done that yet.
Then I drove south-by-southeast through Idaho via Boise to Ogden, Utah. That was a long day through some beautiful country, except for the several hours south of Boise chunk… Mountain Home AFB is out in the middle of nowhere!
I got out of the mountains and back into the Land of Cell Reception, and as I drove down around the south end of Puget Sound and got close to McChord AFB, I got in touch with Buddy Lee, and soon we were playing pool on his house table. Amazingly, I actually beat him once or twice (Melissa is my witness!), and it was great to see another member of the Luke crowd again. I also dried out my wet tarps, gloves, boots, etc. from Olympic in the beautiful Puyallup sunshine.
The next evening, I headed down I-5 a few exits to Dupont, and ate pizza for dinner with Mark, another Luke veteran who is back into the world of the MSG and the LRS. Ewww… gross! Glad to see Mark hasn’t changed that much; hopefully I don’t look any different either.
Once rush hour was over, I drove up 5 into Seattle to meet up with Ben, a mentor and fellow archmage computer web geek from the Duke days. He took me to a party where I met more people who either work for Microsoft or have summited Mt. Rainier, or both, than ever before. They didn’t tar and feather me for being a Mac zealot, and I headed out to Pullman the next day under clear skies and a beautiful view of the Space Needle. Not such a clear view of Rainier, but I’ll be back…
I spent the last four days with the Panowitzes in Portland. They were a blast, and I also made day trips to Multnomah Falls, the Rhododendron Test Gardens near Reed College, and our old house. I also ate lunch with Father Chester, who baptized me, and met all kinds of people who used to know me when I was a tubby little baby. Ah, memories. We spent Easter Sat/Sun down at Cannon Beach with the Kellers, awesome people who made me feel right at home. Mr. Keller and I went elk spotting, and we saw two from about 200-300 yards away. Walks on the beach and an incredible hailstorm also made the weekend memorable. Now I’m off to the Olympic Peninsula to do a little beach hiking.
Naw, I didn’t go surf kayaking. I drove out of San Fran up to the Anderson Valley on Christily and her friend’s advice, and did some wine tasting up the valley, a truly hidden gem with none of the glitz and pretentiousness of Napa/Sonoma. I visited Mendocino, the setting for Murder, She Wrote, and spent the night up at Ft. Bragg with her brother Josha, a remowned surf kayaker. Then I drove up 101 North along the coast, and took a crazy detour through Redwood State Park to the Lost Coast area, where the sun finally came out for a while. Then north through Eureka and Redwood Nat’l Park, and into Oregon, where I spent the night just outside the town of Brookings at a State Park on the beach. The next day I went all the way up the Oregon coast, stopping at Oregon Dunes Nat’l Recreation Area to play. I rented a quad at a little rental place, received training, and cruised the sand dunes for an hour. It was totally awesome and well worth it.
Then I whipped up to Portland, the city of my birth!
Coffeehouse. San Francisco. On Polk. Free wireless. Good coffee and food. Huge palm plants. Funky floor plan. Rock on.
