Two dirty, tired, happy guys. Battery Park, NYC. Journeys end.
Now that we are both back home in Seattle, sufficiently sedated with turkey, enjoying the post-Thanksgiving haze, I thought it would be as good a time as any for the final blog entry.
I would once again like to thank all of our friends a family for all the support and enthusiasm. Much love to all of you!
As we are now here in NYC, one of the most diverse culinary meccas in America (if not the world), it is tempting to largely block-out the vast expanse of burgers and fries which occupied our stomaches for a majority of the trip. In the past two days we have sampled deliciously authentic mexican fare (tacos al pastor, mole poblano, and tortas), lunched on cuban pork sandwiches, enjoyed fresh brooklyn bagels, and consumed the best pizza I've had in two months. While all this gastronomic delight caused me at one point to compare the past 7 weeks to a "culinary black-hole", this is not entirely fair. One of the more interesting parts of the trip was noticing the lovely little differences between the edibles of the USA and Canada's "North-Americana." Here is a list of my personal favorites: Poutine
U.S. Ambassador to Canada David Wilkins best described poutine when he called it, "A Canadian delicacy, that I have enjoyed many times." This pretty much sums up how I feel about it. For those unfamiliar, poutine consists of an ample portion of french friend potatoes sauced liberally with a thin brown gravy, and topped with either grated mozzarella cheese, or mozzarella cheese curds, the latter being the more 'authentic' variation. If you think (for some bizarre reason) that drowning a plate full of deep-fried potatoes in gravy and cheese sounds disgusting then you probably: (A) have never tasted poutine before, (B) are too worried about your health, (C) should not consider yourself my friend any longer, or (D) are sober.
exhibit A: U.S. Ambassador to Canada David Wilkins, confirmed poutine-lover.
exhibit B: La Poutine.
"La Poutine" of course, is not without culinary peers. It can be reasonably considered a northern relative of the ever-popular "Chili-Cheese Fries". Although it, fittingly enough, lacks the spicy, in-your-face-givin'-you-heart-burn edge of its American sister-food. I however, preferred to simply think of poutine as Canadian Nachos, primarily due to the heavy nacho-withdrawal I endured throughout this trip. Vigorous internet research has also brought to my attention that something unappetizingly-named "chips and mushy-peas" from across the pond may share common ancestry with la poutine, though this is unconfirmed. "Tandoori Sizzler" Doritos Chips
Now, let me begin my saying that though I generally try to eat heathy, and was raised on very good organic home cooking, but I have always have a warm place in my heart for Doritos chips. Maybe this is related to my love of nachos... Anyways, I have enjoyed a fair number of Doritos "Nacho Cheesier" flavor in my life. But after a while, they just get kind of boring, and who really likes "Cooler Ranch" anyhow?? However, when I spotted a little bag of joy with "Tandoori Sizzler" written on it, I could not resist. I love Indian food, and Doritos, perfect! Well, not to spoil the surprise for anyone, but (drumroll please...) they don't really taste that different from "Nacho Cheesier." Certainly not like "regal spice of india", according to my poor French translation...
All this being said, I most definitely enjoyed "Tandoori Sizzler" Doritos immensely. Though they don't taste very different, I guess its just different enough for me. Sadly, it appears that for the moment they are exclusive to the Canadian market. It is to me, a truly sad statement about our collective palate. Are we really not cultured enough to appreciate a semi-spicy vaguely curry-flavored tortilla chip rolled out behind an at best essentializing and at worst racist add campaign (see video below)?? Come on Doritos corporate, have a little faith!
Canadian Doritos advert. Perplexing? Yes. Appetizing? You be the judge.
... On a somewhat related note: President's Choice brand "Memories of Morocco" couscous had some very interesting packaging...
Pretty much everything I was thinking about it has already been summed up on this Skidmore College Art History page, the section on the package is at the bottom. Oh, Canada, sigh...
and last but not least... "Coffee Crisp" Candy Bars
One of the true highlights of Canada was when we were presented with two Coffee Crisp bars by a store clerk who, upon hearing of our journey, proclaimed excitedly that we didn't get these in the states and, well, we probably needed the energy. As it turns out both were true. A simple candy bar, Coffee Crisp can best be compared to a large single Kit-Kat section, with subtle undercurrents of coffee flavor. Extremely delicious. It helped that at the time the manufacturer of this chocolate covered coffee wafer was running a "Cabin Chalet" promotion, and had a map of the exact area we were printed on the label! (Wawa, home of the giant goose was clearly visible!)
Photo from web of excited man showcasing a coffee crisp bar.
(Correction: Apparently, I failed to do my research on this one! Thanks in some part to a web petition, Nestle has decided to bring Coffee Crisp (aka "A Nice Light Snack") to the USA! details can be found at coffeecrisp.org, yes, this is an actual website...)
Am you THIS excited about the news?! Well maybe you should be!
hello everybody, iain and myself arrived in battery park early saturday evening, completing our epic journey.
as we crossed the george washington bridge from new jersey and approached the island of manhattan, the thick clouds began to clear and we were treated to a truly majestic new york sunset as we cruised down the west side greenway, into battery park. received warmly by a small but very patient group of friends (thanks hri, taryn, lillie, ali, and annie!), we savored our victory with champagne and cake, as the statue of liberty glowed behind us in the fading evening light.
we want to thank everyone who has supported us along the way, your thoughts and well-wishes helped us immensely.
CHECK BACK IN THE NEXT DAY OR SO FOR A FEW FINAL RELFECTIONS ON THE LAST WEEKS OF THE TRIP, AND NYC!
also: PHOTOS FROM THE TRIP WILL BE COMING ONLINE IN THE NEXT FEW WEEKS, STAY TUNED!
well folks, yesterday afternoon we finally bid adieu to the land of the maple leaf and crossed the saint laurence river, into new york state, and the u.s. of a! it has been a long, hilly, and very wet past 2 weeks, and i must say i am very pleased to be back in my native land, and less than a week from the end of our journey. that being said, there are a few certain sweet indulgences and simple canadian pleasures that i will miss. consider this then, in no particular order, my own biased little tribute to the province of ontario, and nation-state of canada.
everybody deserves music
i originally intended to make an extensive post regarding this earlier, but didn't get to it. somewhere in north dakota, we acquired what is sometimes known as a 'ghetto blaster', that is to say a large 1980s-early 90s radio cassette deck. i bought it a pawn shop selling mainly rifles and farming equipment, run by old libertarian guy with a perfectly preserved 'perot in '92' campaign sign hanging behind the counter. it seems in this case 'redneck blaster' makes a lot more sense.
anyhow, this setup has provided countless hours of glorious and joyful fm enjoyment, and, aside from unmercifully destroying our best tapes (tracy chapman, and heartbreakingly, "USA Party Mix - Canadian Edition") has made many miles drift past. through north dakota, minnesota, the fm dials were dominated by in order: country, classic rock, and 'faith-based' jams. canada, however, has offered a more diverse selection. in addition to the mellow, non-threatening (and largely non-interesting) npr-wannabe CBC radio, there were the usual classic rock stations with animal mascots (aka "the fox/cougar/bear/beaver!"); the odd college/independent stations; and a glorious selection of quebecois french-language programming.
some of the highlights include an interview with the u.s. ambassador to canada (who had a strong southern accent) on CBC, during which the host quizzed him important knowledge such as 'what is poutine?', following which they played James Brown's "Living in America" and invited people to call in if they knew which "Rocky" film the song was from...
wow, where to start really? Canada is turning out to be quite a harsh mistress. allow me to give you a recap of our past week in the great north:
to begin with, the aforementioned border fiasco (2 posts ago). it turns out that rolling up to an international border smelly, dirty, and on a bicycle doesn't exactly scream "let me into your country for an undefined amount of time! i promise i'm not just trying to hop the border for a sweet job at tim horton's and a good health care system!" after answering the usual questions, we were told to come around inside, where we waited for nearly 1 1/2 hrs in front of a little window labelled "immigration" while the canadian customs guys literally sat on the other side of the glass eating bagels, joking around, and making occasional eyecontact with us. luckily they had one of those little toys with the wire loops and wooden beads which you can move around. you know, like at a doctors office... finally, a younger, female, more attractive, and apparently more senior officer came and questioned us individually about what we were doing and how much money we had. i was just within earshot to hear iain lay down some sweet lines about our big adventure, and even mention this blog! good man. well, we were finally released into canada, and just as rain started falling. a rain that pretty much didn't cease until yesterday.
speaking of which, let's break down the weather: the best way to describe Thunder Bay would be to imagine riding a bike inside the tropical rainforest exhibit at the zoo. just as hot, just as humid, and surprisingly also smelled like toucan poop. oh, you don't like 75 degress and 100% humidity?? well then, maybe the 'north shore' winter wonderlands of Marathon or Wawa, Ontario, where we were snowed on, and it got below freezing three nights this week would be more to your tastes.
now, with most of the complaining out of the way, i must say that i truly did not give the great lakes region its fair shake up to this point in my life. you know, 'it's a bunch of lakes, blah, blah.' this is actually one of the most beautful places i've seen in north america, reminiscent in many ways of the pacific northwest, the puget sound or wa and or coast. tall, majestic cliffs and other striking geology paired with some smooth sand beaches which actually looked quite nice.
other highlights: the giant canadian goose statue in Wawa, placed strategically next to the biggest canadian flag i've even seen in my life. and oh yeah, turns out that the bike mechanic in Thunder Bay didn't really do a very good job, and my rear wheel exploded while riding yesterday and was literally spilling out ball-bearings on the side of the road! luckily i managed to mcguyver-together a quick fix involving a screw driver, 5 or 6 plastic zip-ties, and copious amounts of chain lube. we screeched into the city of Sault Saint Marie, and now i will be purchasing a new wheel, hopefully the last of our mechanical woes.
Not nearly as amazing as it looks in real life.
other observations on our time in canada, including a summary of culinary delights coming some time in the next week, stay tuned!
~Tamaso
oh yeah, and we estimate that we are exactly 2 weeks away from NYC! for those who may be curious about our route from this point:
While we sit inside of a giant, humid, cloud also known as Thunder Bay, Ontario (home of the 1995(?) world championships of skiing, as iain has informed me), I thought it would be a good time to reflect on our Minnesota experience.
It is no exageration to say that everything I knew about the people, land, and mannerisms of Minnesota before last week, I learned from Garrison Keillor. Though we have never met in person (aside from one instance of star struck psuedo-stalking of Mr. Keillor and his family in an airport on the way home from London), this gentle giant has snuck his way into my heart through many drowzy sunday mornings at home, ears craned towards the soothing sounds of A Prarie Home Companion. For those deprived few of you that may never have heard this program, the rest of this post will probably make little sense (I suggest that your time would be better spent furiously 'googling' and 'wikipedia-ing' this wonderful man and his radio show).
Garrison Keillor, gentle giant of Minnesota.
My travelling companion, Mr. Morris, has (thanks to his prodigious fiddlin' talent) in fact appeared live and in person on A Prarie Home Companion. We are both in agreement that Mr. Keillor seems to have been flawlessly evolved (nay, designed?) to be perfect for radio.
But, to get to the point, everything that this man thought me about Minnesota seems to have rung true. Yes, Minnesotans do appear very, um, restrained, in their manner. Our typical conversations went something like this one we had outside a grocery story:
Minnesota man: "Ohh, were yah headed dere?" Iain: "Well, today we're coming from X and headed to Y, but we're going to New York City." M.m.: (Stunned look) "Wheew. Better get peddlin' eh. Winters 'a comin' Iain: "Yeah, yep. That's what we hear." M.m.: (man turns and looks in other direction for a few moments without acknowledgement)
(a few moments later, while we have started to eat/go about our business) "So. Your chans worn out dere yet?"
Iain: "Excuse me?" M.m.: (gestures towards our bicycle chains)"Yer chans." Iain: "Um, no. Those don't really were out much." M.m.: (grunt indicating this is a satisfactory answer) Iain: "Yeah, the roads are a bit hard on our tires though, that's for sure." M.m.: (nods head, and walks into store)
(comes out of store a couple mins later) "Well i'm too old fer dat." (walks away)
Iain: ...
It's not that people seemed rude exactly. Mostly they just seemed to very sedate, which came off as very poor social skills in the men we talked to, and a unembelished bluntness in the women. In short, words seemed to be a precious currency. Once we figured this out, however, it was in a way, thrilling to be at last travelling through this strange land which had up to this point existed only in my imagination, brought to life through the little radio in my parents kitchen every weekend. As we cruised through the countryside populated by as many European-inspired place names as lakes, I could alomst hear Mr. Keillor's soothing narration bringing the stories of landscape to life. Finally, I would like to say thank you to my parents, Barbara and Rick, how was I too know that all those mornings with NPR humming softly in the background were really a form of cultural emersion, preparing me for this leg of our journey.
~Tamaso
This post has been brought to you by the ketchup advisory board.
Monday, October 8th (aka Canadian Thanksgiving) 2007, ~2250miles.
Hello everyone. We have, after great emotional strains and unforeseen customs-related hoop-jumping, left our homeland and ventured into mapleleaf territory. Our arrival in the aptly named city of "Thunder Bay", Ontario happened to coincide with our northern neighbors great thanksgiving-day celebration. While this is confusing and slightly humorous, it also threw a small wrench into the cogs of the odyssey. Turns out that over 2,000 miles can cause wear on parts not limited to my butt. The rear hub of my bike has loosened up a bit, but of course all bike mechanics in Canada are enjoying turkey dinner as I type this, not fixing my wheel. Due to this fact (not to mention the horizontal rain falling in giant hollywood movie style sheets) we are taking a short day here and, sigh, springing for another hotel night. A very tough decision. Seriously though, 1:1 exchange rate?! Ouch. Come on economy. Luckily, the "Montana Grill", home of '$4.99 A Pound Hot Wing Mondays!' is located next door, if only it was per kilo... I'll let you know how it goes. The next couple posts should be more topical, and cover some of my final reflections on the great state of Minnesota.
Thought i'd just share a little story with you all about a man named pastor troy. we met the pastor while enjoying the 'Sunday Smorgesborg' at O.B.'s Cafe in Saco, MT. He asked us where we were headed, and said we could stay in his trailer out of town, although he wouldn't be there, and couldn't remember the address exactly. The pastor drew us a detailed map to his green and white trailer, and we parted ways.
Later that evening while at the hotel bar of the Cottonwood Inn (see the "glasgow, mt" post below) we ran into pastor troy again. He had a lot to say about senator larry craig, as well as chris hanson. when the bartender mentioned to no one in particular how 'dazed and confused' was a "f**king great movie!", pastor troy launched into the following story:
Once, way back when in Missoula, Pastor Troy hung out with Richard Linklater one time, "before he was famous, when he was a normal person like you and me." The Pastor, Richard Linklater and some other people were partying one night, and as it was growing late, they decided to go up on a hill to watch the sun rise over the city. Richard Linklater, apparently, was cold and Pastor Troy lent him his jacket. Mr. Linklater never gave the jacket back. Now, somewhere in his mansion in Hollywood, Richard Linklater has Pastor Troy's gold, '80s ski parka in his closet. Or maybe not.
sorry to leave you all hanging there. hopefully some people are reading this, and i am not just being totally self-indulgent, although i'm fine with that also.
of note: this past week we have completed 3 significant median milestones, if you could call them that.
1) 1,500 miles. well, each 500 seems to come more quickly and with less exuberance than the last, although the 'theoretic' halfway point is still exciting.
2) Rugby, North Dakota. Bet you didn't know they have a city (town) called that did you? the fact that we camped in a public park here the night of the homecoming football game gave me a lot of time to think about all the stupid puns and confusing "who's on third"-style jokes that could me made about the Rugby sports teams, but i'll let that one be. More importantly, I bet you also didn't know that that rugby, nd is the Geographical Center of North America!. While the weird old hippies and people who work for adobe try to claim fremont as the 'center of the universe', Rugby at least has the US Geological survey to back them up with their pretty-much meaningless distinction.
Oh yeah, they also have this sweet cairn/obelisk to make it official.
3) 3 weeks on the road! With 21 days of riding under our belt(s), we seem to be disproving the haters out there that said we could never make it in 6 weeks. At our halfway juncture here in Grand Fork, ND, on the border of Minnesota, we are staying at a pretty posh Holiday Inn (w/ indoor waterpark!!!) in order to contemplate our greatness, not to mention sleep in a bed for the first time in 3 weeks.
hello all, me and iain are survivin. partied last night away in the hotel bar with a bunch of drunk locals, a pastor, and the cleaning ladies from the hotel. the bartender made us something called a 'brain hemmorage' which looks like blood, but is in fact a tasty treat! other highlights include: me being absolutely befuddled after losing $2 at video keno (because every bar/restaurant in montana is also apparently a mini-casino); iain talking with the cleaning ladies about being sick of riding bikes all day, to which one rather hefty one replied 'you can ride me!'; and having a deep discussion about the moral implications of the show 'to catch a predator' with pastor troy.
oop, the librarian is kicking me off the computer now...
Today with little fanfare, but great person excitement we crossed the one thousand mile mark for the trip. Standing side by side astride our steeds we starred out at the seeming endless grasslands beyond Shelby Montana. As we depart the Rockies, and peddle on to the vast sky and fields of cut wheat our days become shorter, flatter, and more contemplative. To sum up, today we road 103 miles, our single day high thus far. We overate once again at something deceivingly named “Pizza Pros.” And met a man walking west on a barren stretch of highway 2 who said he was headed to Seattle, he took our pictures as we passed. I wish we could have stopped to speak with him a spell longer.
Ahh, some much has happened over the past week, less this become another lovable but boring travel blog we shale try to cover only the humorous and epic elements for the time being.
Milestones and Pain- Though the crossing of the North Cascades was surely trying, our assent of Marais Pass, elevation 5220 ft, proved to top it. Apparently northwestern Montana has decided to bypass autumn entirely and proceed directly to frozen wasteland. Lets just say heavy headwinds, homicidal truckers and snow, yuck!
On a lighter note, as we approach the fabled millennium, I am contemplating an appropriate celebration to follow up our warm fizzy Fat Tire beers at 500 miles.
Eating America- Ahhh the food report; dinners have quickly become a mainstay of the trip, as has the legendary chiliburger.
Fact: over the past 5 meals Iain has consumed chili-based products 4 times… So, as not to turn out tent into a gas chamber, we have proposed eating healthy…I'll let you know.
Local color- What’s the best part about eating in dinner and gas stations all the time?...The people of course! Here’s the honor roll so far: The Oliver family, of Twist Washington, who took us strangers into the comfort their home. The husband, a local pastor, who’s life long dream has been to peddle across America even gave us a sincere prayer to send us on our way. Thanks to these wonderful individuals.
Mysterious crazy woman of Grand Coulee Washington- A first we thought you were mute and actually in trouble when you cornered us at our diner table, but alas you were too high/crazy and you momentarily forgot how to talk. Thanks Heidi Hoff for handling this situation so compassionately.
Cowboy cyclist outside cute bank Montana- I talked bikes with this friendly middle-aged man with a big cowboy hat for a few minutes at a Louis and Clark roadside monument as his wife immortalized the moment on her video camera. And then they drove their Oldsmobile with South Carolina plates off into the distance a yellow Lance era Nike team baseball cap proudly displayed in the back windshield.
Overheard in…Shelby, Montana! Me: “Oh, ah I actually don’t need a bag” Clerk Lady: “Well at least you didn’t say ‘I’ve already got one at home,’ I hate that one.” Me: “Ahh, ha ha”
Me: “I have the feeling that this shamey is about to become an adult diaper.”
We journeyed up highway 20 from Raser State Park to Colonial Creek, at the foot of Ross and Diablo lakes. Long without companionship of the female kind, we were delighted to share the road and our pains with the Heidi's (Heidi Hoff and Heidi Biggs, respectively). Both collegiate competitive cyclists and all-around great gals, they have been a welcome set of traveling partners.
Our day-long quest to find small American flags to replace our trailers' stock yellow safety flags had ended in... great success (Borat accent)!! We will now be proudly flying square, American flag bandannas the rest of the way across the nation. Keep your eye out.
Big shouts out to Lisa from Olympia and Jeanne from West Seattle. Last night in Rasar St. Park these gracious ladies invited us over to their warm camp fire, and proceeded to ply us with delicious cheese, crackers, and box wine, while they enjoyed gin and water ("because we ran out of 7up, and what's the difference, really?!"). So cheers, invite you to raise a tall gin and water, and toast: 'to the kindness of strangers!'
Greetings from the road this is hopefully the first of many correspondences tracking the incredible bike adventure of Tamaso and Iain across America 2007! We will update in person when possible, but Hri may also update for us.
Today, our 3rd day on the road, we enjoyed a pleasant peddle across a variety of scenery including tidal flats, pastoral meadows and crowded highways. We traveled from Port Townsend across Puget Sound and are currently in Raser State Park at the foothills of the North Cascades:
I will spare you further details and close with a list of the most ironic/memorable things seen today.
#1. A small poorly designed, hard to read sign advertising quality sign and banner making service at a value.
#2. A very obese woman in a PT Cruiser listening to “Baby Got Back” at high volume in an ice cream shop parking lot.
#3. Bumper sticker reading: “Jet noise, the sound of freedom” spotted near Whidbey Island naval air station.
#4. “Double Darrel BBQ, Home of Smokin Good Ribs” restaurant outside Sedro Woolley burned to the ground
