Illanoying and Indianus – The Drive to Pennsylvania

PA countryside - surprisingly beautiful.

Interstate 70 across the US is a largely uneventful drive. Once we left home we didn’t stop much except to pee, stretch the legs and switch driving every two hours or so. I tried to sleep on a number of occasions, but that never happened. We drove across four states: Illinois, bypassing St. Louis and it’s lovely view of factory smog hiding the Arch, Indiana, Ohio and the topmost nook of West Virginia before reaching Pennsylvania.

Illinois just seemed long and drawn out and the folks there are somewhat annoying. We stopped at a rest stop for a little down time away from all the other people parked there. We go in and it’s a lovely rest stop, yet some of the guys on John’s side were complaining about the stall doors behind too narrow. Well, fellas, try losing some of that beer gut! Then as we got back into the car for a little one-on-one, we’re interrupted when a big red shiny new truck pulls up right next to us – sideways, taking up about five parking spaces. Now, I could understand this if the truck was pulling a trailer, but it wasn’t. Some not-so-handsome dude and his butter-faced blond woman pile out of the car and stare at us like we’re the idiots parked all retarded. Then they bring out this ugly sharpei type dog and proceed to walk it all around our car. Retarded.

There’s not much to see driving through the rest of the state besides corn fields and… corn fields… In Indiana it’s not much different, but the people there are a whole new brand of odd. We stop in a McDonald’s run by semi-retarded teenagers that don’t know how to pay attention (then again, I think that accounts for about 90% of teens these days. Granted I’m sure my generation was retarded in its own right back then, but Jesus, these days they don’t know how to use a can-opener!). We sit down to eat in a quiet corner and stare at the french fries on the floor the next table over.

We notice that everyone patronizing the McDonald’s are either old, overweight and dressed in Sunday clothes at 10pm. Then a group of teens walk in – two boys and two girls both in dresses. As they pass us by the first girl grabs the second by the shoulders and points us in our direction. I guess they’ve never seen hippies before, even though we were dressed like any other Joe that just got off work and are dirty, tired and travel-weary. I waved and said, “HI!” in my most annoying voice, and of course they hid like being curious is a shameful thing. Thank you, public schools.

So we giggled and joked about it and John was sorely tempted to run up behind the girls and give them a big ol’ hippie hug. Then, when their boyfriends said something, he’d give THEM a hug and tell them how much cuter than the ladies they were. Ha, ha! I love that man. However, we left them alone. Instead we watched some dude with purple-tinted windows and pimp lights drive four times around the McDonald’s and park in the back lot. Creepy. Weird.

We saw the most cops on the highway in Ohio. Not just regular cops, but dog units, but we weren’t worried. All we had to do was follow the flow of traffic or just jump in behind a semi, which by law are required to drive five miles below the speed limit. Its a good tip to know about when you’re unsure of what the speed limit is on a highway.

We stopped in Indiana, just inside the Ohio border for the night. We realized we had some extra cash, so we found a coupon and crashed at a nice hotel for the night. We watched about four hours of cartoons. Incidentally, King of the Hill is a very accurate portrayal of Texas and it’s people. For example, the episode we watched was about Bobby’s school getting new history textbooks which didn’t cover the Alamo, which of course bothered Hank. At the end, Hank is telling Bobby more “history,” listing Texas as a continent along with the US and Australia. I got a kick out of that because Texans – and most of the rest of the US – think of Texas as a different country. (Watch how people react to a Texan when he tells them where he’s from and you’ll get my point.)

But I’m not trying to talk about Texas, I’m talking about Ohio. So we overslept and missed breakfast. Damn. I threw a fit, smoked a cigarette and ate some more of John’s mom’s delicious zucchini bread and back on the road we went.

Ohio is famous for “Skyline Chili,” which is sold in cans there, but I’m told is nothing at all when compared to momma’s homemade Skyline chili, which has dark chocolate as one of its ingredients. The Ohio kids tried to make some for us in Louisiana, but it didn’t come out right because of something to do with not having the right kind of beans. However, it is delicious and unique and if you’re ever through there, try to get yourself a bowl.

The bridge into West Virginia is very pretty and West Virginia – all 20 miles of it we visited – is lovely and green and lush. I can’t say much more on it, because we weren’t there long. We’ll be driving through it on our way south after this show, however.

Pennsylvania is surprisingly pretty. We drove through a veritable tunnel of towering hardwoods and low, rolling mountains. The elevation rarely exceeds 1000 feet. Every river you cross supports a thriving river town, complete with boating docks and floating barges and ancient brick factories and steel mills, many of which are still operational today.

The state is packed with people. According to the Rand McNally, it ranks 6th in population. There’s people and cars everywhere. The roads are crazy and twisting, full of one-ways and short on-ramps. Some of the ramps have stop signs instead of yield signs, which gets really annoying after a while. It’s very easy to get lost and mixed up and turned around. My sense of direction was ruined the first day we stayed here, and everything, even the big Wal-Mart parking lots, are on a hill.

I’m surprised at how pretty this state is and how green it is for how old and populated it is. The air is fresh at our camp and the water tastes good, even though we’re just on the other side of the mountain from the largest coal mine in the United States. Every day at noon we hear them test the air raid sirens and every night we listen to trucks riding their gears down the highway. There are coyotes here, too, and their songs are wild and looping like a bunch of drunken frat boys at half-time. I missed the coyotes and welcome their voices back in my life.

And I hear there are many great hiking spots close to us, too. I’m going to like it here.

Peace.