Chicago, Chicago, I'll Show You Around

I couldn't think of a better way to start my morning. Green chai tea, a quiet neighborhood street (cue birds singing and leaves rustling), the warmth of early May morning sunlight....who could ask for more?

After we said our goodbyes to M&M, we set the GPS towards Chicago. One last verse of Cleveland Rocks, and on to Frank Sinatra's peppy tune. We couldn't, however, skirt across the northern part of Indiana without stopping by to see my aunt and uncle, Wayne and Jan. I'm still getting used to needing to take a picture for the blog everywhere we go, so 15 minutes after we left their company, I realized I missed another photo opp. with them. Luckily, Phill's on top of things and at least got this shot when we first met up with Wayne. I'm sure he just finished cracking a joke, as he usually does. My expression says it all.

You can't pass through Middlebury, Indiana, without grabbing a bite to eat at the infamous Das Dutchman Essenhaus. I can remember going there as a little kid with my grandparents. The food is much the same...you know, that Midwestern, down-home, puts meat on your bones kind of fare. And the pie! There was no way Wayne nor I could leave without partaking in a homemade slice. For him it was old-fashioned creme, for me, strawberry-rhubarb. After tummies were filled, we finished exchanging all of our updates and goodbye hugs, we headed for the toll road again.

And just as we passed the last stoplight before the entrance booths, we saw this:

A little preview for what's down the road, you could say. Good to know how far we have to go!

Fast forward two hours and a couple hundred cornfields. I love this city. I understand why my brother, Brandt, loves this city. I'm pretty sure he'll never leave.

We arrived to his place just in time for his evening run, the marathon fanatic that he is. After sitting for most of the day in the car, neither one of us could resist a stroll beside the lake. So Phill and he went running, and I walked down to enjoy the sunset over the skyline.

Sigh. How beautiful.

When the runners returned, I requested a first row seat to watch the lights come on over the city. I'm glad we stayed. Phill and I decided that between Boston and Chicago, these have to be the two prettiest nightscapes we know.

With stomachs grumbling, Brandt took us to a burger joint in Lincoln Park. But not any burger place. They serve grass-fed beef and bison. He knows me too well. Such an awesome brother. We finished the evening, a very late one I might add, with burgers and brew.

As I readied myself for bed, I took delight in knowing that over the course of this trip, we will traverse 17 states. 17!! What an amazing journey....and it's only just begun. Tomorrow brings Milwaukee. Is there a song about Milwaukee? Starting the trip with Cleveland and Chicago, makes me feel the need to keep up the melody tributes.

Cleveland Rocks

Welcome to our adventure! If you're reading this, you're probably tuning in to check our whereabouts as we slowly make our way to Alaska. For those unaware, Phill and I have been tasked with delivering our sister and brother-in-law's car to them in Anchorage, Alaska. Maybe I should re-phrase that. We weren't necessarily tasked, but instead saw this as a perfect opportunity to fulfill a lifelong dream of driving cross-country, all while fulfilling their need to get the car moved from Washington DC to Alaska. Lucky for us, they were on board with the idea. At this point, we know for sure we can get the car as far as Washington state. The final leg to Alaska is still being planned. More on that later. So this space will serve as our memory book as we journey west. We invite you to come along and enjoy the ride!


Part One

Yesterday dawned with rain. And in DC, that means only one thing: one hell of a commute! Our destination by dinnertime was Cleveland, a good 8-hour drive, so we knew we needed to set out early to make it. I'm not sure what the car was thinking, but for us it was hard to drive her away. That little Toyota has come to represent a lasting link to Kati, a little piece of her sitting in the driveway everyday as we all come and go. Maybe it was even a little harder because, much like the twins who actually drive them, this little Corolla has a twin in that same driveway, only silver. Each car has come to represent its driver: Kati's had seashells and traces of sand in the trunk when it was cleaned out; Cori's has a tribute to yellow labs on her back bumper. So while the twins said their goodbyes in November when Kati moved, their cars have continued to sit side-by-side in front of the house. As I drove it away, I couldn't help but wonder at all it's already seen, and all that it soon will.

DC certainly wasn't merciful as we tried to make our exit. One downed tree, two car accidents, and 2.5 hours later, we finally broke free of the city limits. We can't complain though. Phill snapped this as we were in one of our many standstills of the morning. This poor goose. And we thought we had a bad commute....

After we made it past the rain and back bumpers, the skies cleared and we had smooth sailing almost all the way to Ohio. Because Phill was still trying to switch his body clock from night to day, therefore slept most of the way, and because we both have already seen this part of the country, we didn't make it a priority to stop and see sights. Don't get me wrong. Interstate 76 through Pennsylvania is really quite beautiful. With all the recent rain we've had, the foliage is lush and bountiful. Stately old barns, quaint mountain towns...it was a picturesque and relaxing drive.

We arrived into Cleveland about 5:30--not too shabby considering our delayed beginnings--and back into the good company of our dear friends, Mark and Megan. They are fellow Bobcats, walk to buy their groceries, know their microbrews, and have every shade of Fiestaware in their much-envied built-in dining room hutch with leaded glass door. (You can't tell I'm into dishes or turn-of-the-century architecture design can you?)

Megan and I are convinced we were actually sisters separated at birth. We'll ignore the fact that she has an Italian background, tans without blinking, and might as well be a pro-basketball player with her height.

What a fun evening we shared at Tommy's, a local favorite. They had tofutti "milk"shakes. Yes, that's right. I thought I'd died. I resisted the urge to order dessert first, which was okay since the tamales I finally decided on proved to be just as mouth-watering. But when that peanut butter and chocolate shake of pure goodness landed in front of me, I rejoiced in restaurant owners everywhere who think about those of us who often have to walk away from those dairy-laden after-meal treats.

The evening ended with good wine and good conversation deep into the night. A perfect end to day one. On tap for tomorrow: Chi-town.