On the Road Again

In the past few weeks I've traversed about half the length of the country, mostly by plane.  These trips weren't exactly vacations--the time wasn't very restful, per se--but they were certainly pleasurable.

The first was a brief trip to St. Louis by way of Iowa.  I went with friends and fellow alumni to cheer on the UNI Panthers in our first Sweet Sixteen basketball game.  Highlights of the trip, other than the game (even though we lost) included riding public transportation and seeing the Cathedral Basilica of St. Louis and it's magnificent mosaics.

My trip to Washington state was less spontaneous than the previous excursion the week prior; it had been planned months ago to visit sister Sarah, who's been in the Seattle area for a little more than a year teaching environmental education at different camps.  Currently, she is working at the Archdiocese of Seattle's Camp Hamilton and living at Camp Don Bosco and was able to take Easter week off to play hostess.

Easter Monday morning I flew into Sea-Tac International Airport's Terminal B, which boasts two Starbucks.  In Washington, you can spit in any direction and hit a coffee shop.  We spent the afternoon wandering around downtown Seattle, a city much hillier than I expected, which included a visit to Pike Place Market and happy hour (my first since Lent) at an inexpensive place serving good local beer.

Tuesday we took in a leisurely hike in Twin Falls State Park, where the reason for Washington's nickname "The Evergreen State" was apparent.  In addition to evergreens and ferns as far as the eye could see, everything was covered with moss.  And I thought Missouri had looked green the week before.  The trail led above the waterfalls to the John Wayne Pioneer Trail, which dovetailed nicely with December's impromptu Iowa pilgrimage.

We trekked north to Vancouver on Wednesday, marking my first time outside these United States.  Not far into the car ride, Sarah remembered that her driver's side window would roll down but not up again, which caused a bit of a hassle at the border.  I was slightly afraid that our last name could cause us some undue grief too, but we were fine, possibly because I'd shaved off my terrorist-beard a few weeks earlier.  Vancouver was nice, even though I tend to find most downtown big cities to be alike.  It rained for the third day in a row, and I, having forgotten to pack a raincoat for my trip to the Pacific Northwest, was forced to stroll the streets using my sister's fuchsia umbrella.  But don't worry; that didn't prevent some guy from trying to sell me pot in a city park.

I drove back through Canada and most of the way through Washington until we got off the interstate to find a place for late dinner.  We were in the left lane going through Arlington's business district when Sarah said, "Don't hit that"; "that" being an unnecessary curb separating the median's left-hand turning lane from the rest of traffic.  Unfortunately, I did hit it and blew the tire.  So we returned to Carnation via back roads on the spare.

The next morning, before leaving for Vancouver, WA, and dinner with family following Sarah's work-related presentation to parents whose kids would be attending Camp Hamilton, we stopped to get the tire fixed.  Afterward, the mechanic asked if there was a special trick to rolling up the driver's side window.

Dinner at historic Fort Vancouver's Grant House with cousins Robbie and Daniel was great fun.  We'd already planned on staying the night and going west to the Oregon coast on Friday morning, so Daniel suggested we'd like to see the Grotto of Our Sorrowful Mother before leaving Portland.  The grotto contains a life-size replica of Michelangelo's Pieta set into a 100-foot rock cliff and is a serene little place in an otherwise bustling city.

We reached Seaside, OR, after an hour-and-a-half drive and headed north on the 101 to Astoria, where we stopped at Fort Clatsop, part of the Lewis and Clark National Historical Park.  Then across the highway in Fort Stevens State Park, I caught my first glimpse of the Pacific Ocean.

The public beach there is quite popular, thanks in part to the rusted remains of the Peter Iredale, a steel shipping vessel that ran ashore in 1906.  The beach was also littered with sand dollars and driftwood, and the soothing rhythm of the incoming tide was something like a gentle heartbeat.

We packed a lot into my six day "vacation" but there were still things that there wasn't time for. We didn't go whale-watching or canoeing; we didn't visit Uncle Doc and Aunt Ruth, stop at Seattle's Pioneer Square or see a lighthouse.  So this calls for another visit.

An Impromptu Pilgrimage

I recently returned from my Iowa Christmas vacation to visit family and friends.  After one and one-third days in Des Moines, I took my travel agent/hostess Tonia to the airport and then decided, being on the south side of the city, to take I-35 down to Highway 34 and straight west into Red Oak.

I didn't get very far along the interstate before I spotted a brown road sign that read "John Wayne Birthplace."  Being my father's son and a red-blooded American, and since I had no timetable on this particular Saturday morning, I decided to make the little side trip.  It became an all day tour of the Iowa countryside.

I left the interstate at County Road G14, several miles north of Highway 92 which offers a direct route to Winterset.  Doing this presented a pleasant surprise: coming down the off-ramp I saw another sign directing torward "St. Patrick's Church."  I thought to myself, St. Patrick's:  didn't John Paul stop there?  So I made the second impulse decision in as many minutes and turned down the gravel road.

St. Patrick's at the Irish Settlement is a little white church planted amid farm fields nearly 150 years ago.  It was locked when I arrived.  I could only see through the windows into the small narthex, where plaques and a bust of Ven. John Paul II commemorate the great pope's October 4, 1979 visit. 

Behind the church a short stroll, gravestones rose out of snow drifts.  There too is a native limestone altar and site marker of the original church.  I trudged among the plots, among beautiful old headstones mottled by 150 years of Iowa weather, praying for the people whose graves I passed.  What a peaceful place to await the Lord's return.

Though I was the only living person there, John Paul's 1979 reflections on rural life and the Gospel still seemed to be captured in that serene monochromatic December morning.

From there I returned to the county road and zigzagged through fields, hills and bluffs toward Winterset.  A couple miles from town I was sidetracked by yet another road sign.  It was a small brown sign reading "Hogback Covered Bridge," with an arrow pointing down a side road.  That's when I first realized I was in Madison County.  So, having never seen any of the famed covered bridges, I made the quick right turn.

Most of the covered bridges are tucked away on gravel back roads.  The road to Hogback (left) dips down through dense trees and scattered homes to the North River valley.

Nineteen bridges were built throughout the late 1800s.  The trusses were covered with sides and a roof in order to protect the expensive wide flooring planks from the elements.

Of the six remained bridges, half (coincidently, the three I saw) remain in their original locations.  All six had been renovated during the 1990s.  One--Cedar Bridge--had been destroyed by arson in 2002 and rebuilt two years later using authentic material and building methods.  All of them are on the National Register of Historic Places and open to foot traffic only.

Before leaving Madison County I also wound my way through the countryside to see Holliwell and Roseman Bridges.  Holliwell (above right) is the longest, and Roseman (left) is the most "famous," due to its prominence in both the book and movie The Bridges of Madison County (neither of which, for the record, have I read nor seen).  Roseman is also said to be haunted, but I can't speak to that either.

After leaving Hogback I finally reached my intended destination.  Winterset is a quaint little Iowa town, the kind you think of when you imagine America's small towns.  It is slightly smaller than Red Oak, with an inviting and lively town square.  Two-story store fronts with the traditional "downtown" architecture surround the limestone county courthouse.

The John Wayne Birthplace is two blocks south of the square.

John Wayne was born Marion Robert Morrison in 1907.  The thirteen-pound baby was delivered by the town's female doctor (a rarity for the time) in this four-bedroom house.  His family lived in Winterset for three years before moving to Earlham, where Wayne's father, Clyde opened his own pharmacy.  Four years later, the family left Iowa for sunny California, and the rest is history.

The house is decorated with period furnishings and includes a multitude of film memorabilia--props and costumes (even the eyepatch from True Grit)--photographs, and the original birth announcement from the town paper.  Next door is a small gift shop.

This little excursion was a chance to see unseen parts of the state I've left behind, to ground it as a distinct place with history.  And since I happened across both the birthplace of a deathbed Catholic and the church grounds hallowed by a future saint, it was also something of an impromptu pilgrimage.

Is Chicago, Is Not Chicago

I needed a mini-vacation before the summer, and I needed to go somewhere other than Iowa. The trip to Seattle to see Sister Sarah fell through (but we'll reschedule). But then my excellent travel agent suggested we make a triumphal return to Chicago, and the rest is history.

This was my fourth trip to the Windy City. The first was with the family in the mid-Nineties. Then two weekend trips in college: one during spring break with old high school friends, where nine of us shared one hotel room; the other with Tonia, Ryan and Volesky to visit our friend Maria, who was serving at Amate House at the time.

For this visit, I flew into Midway, which Tonia rightly described as not much different than Omaha's Eppley. The plane was ahead of schedule (I am a new fan of Southwest, by the way) so I kicked it in the terminal for awhile until my car and drivers arrived. (You might be surprised how easy it is to pray evening prayer in a bustling airport.)

After attracting the glaring eye of the curbside TSA lady with several minutes of attempting to shove my bag into the dark recesses of the trunk, Tonia, Lacy and I were off to Union Station, where Ryan had already procured Andy. (The phone conversation leaving Midway would tell a different story, however. Tonia: I have the Naser. Andy: I have the Hoffy. Not sure why she called the Miller for confirmation.)

The rest of Friday night was an Ocho de Mayo fiesta at Ryan's apartment near Loyola's north campus.

Saturday morning got off to a rousing start with Lacy bitching out Our Gracious Host for his lacking kitchen facilities. But all was better when we got to the Hancock. Instead of paying $15 for access to the observation deck, we stopped at the lounge a few floors below for drinks and a view of the city. Did I mention it was at 11am? Hey, it was vacation.

Then it was off to lunch at Tempo Cafe. While waiting to be seated, Tonia played volunteer hostess by holding open the door for other patrons and expressing her hope that they had enjoyed their meal. Andy, once Tonia stopped sitting on him, did his part by wishing passers-by a Happy Easter.

No trip to Chicago is complete without a visit to the Art Institute, and it was there that we spent Saturday afternoon. We even met a friend on the bus ride there. She was a nice woman who couldn't help but laugh at us (a reaction we tend to have on people). She also took our picture--to turn into the authorities, no doubt.

We took in a Second City show that evening and then had dinner at a nearby pub, which disappointingly served only thin crust pizza. The calzones were good, however.

Sunday included a nice morning stroll to Holy Mass. Unfortunately, Ryan took ill in the middle of things, infected, I concluded, by Lacy who had been feeling under the weather since Friday. (I believe the CDC has categorized it as the L1S1 virus, colloquially known as the Sprung Flu.) So after Mass we all rested back at Ryan's, until it was time to return Miller to the bus stop.

Ryan didn't go with us, but he did give us a map and directions back to Union Station, and I was named navigator. The fact that I was in the bathroom while directions were given was apparently unimportant. But after driving around the Loop for a while and calling Ryan for clarifications, we found the bus stop and bid Miller a fond farewell.

I was dropped off there as well, and met up with Hannah for a few hours. It had been a long time since we'd seen each other, and in the intervening years, she, among many other things, has gotten her nose pierced. (You will remember the discussion we once had regarding nose piercing. It turns out she was right.)

Then after a nice walk up LaSalle Street, I rejoined everyone for Chicago deep dish pizza at Pizzera Uno. Tonia's Cousin Sarah was there and we discussed their family vacation to Estes this coming September.

While leaving the restaurant, the host said to Tonia, "You should get a job here." I can only assume that she must have volunteered as hostess while waiting for a table there, too, and her talent was noticed.

Monday morning we took Ryan to work before dropping me off at the airport. The most memorable part of the drive was his spicy Latin elk calls. I believe he will also be scheduling a fall trip to Estes to participate in the Elk Fest calling contest.

Now, as promised is a photo of us enjoying each other's company in Millennium Park:

Good times, good times.

Even Now, Return to Me

Yeah, I'm still around. Just working and shoveling snow. Please allow me to highlight various happenings using bullet points:

• The trip to Iowa was great, though not so much the driving. A couple days in DSM wasn't enough to see those friends, and I wish there was even more time with the family at Christmas. Would have been nice to see the northern Iowa crowd. Will be back in the great state in May for the baby sister's graduation from the college.
• What happened to January? Just this morning, I realized I needed to change the calendar in the kitchen.
  
• I do in fact support Mike Huckabee for president. I hope this will not cause people to hate me. But I like underdogs. Also I agree with his issues.
  
• Much chaos and destruction at the Y. The Master Plan has finally been put into effect...muh-ha-ha-ha! Many buildings have met with the wrecking ball: B&G and the woodshop, most of the cabins in Staff Circle, Fairchild (thus goes a great piece of Y history, a section of the original Wind River Lodge. Alas, but it is all in the name of Progress!), even the inside of the first floor of the Longhouse. That's where Housekeeping will be relocated. And if construction moves along, we may be there before summer.
• Speaking of which, it's time for all you crazy cats to fill out your online application to work in Estes this summer!
• David was on the website the other day and found this promo video:
  
  You can search YouTube and find a couple other employee-made videos, too.
• Tina had hernia surgery last Friday. She'd put it off for about seven years, and when the doctors got in there, they found that it was horribly infected. This may be the cause of the past couple years' health problems. She's doing fine now, though I heard that she popped a stitch the other day doing something (stupid, no doubt) in the kitchen. I will chastise her on Friday when I see her, where I'm also afraid I'll be forced to see the scar and the gross bruise.

Anyway, gotta get home and wash my face. I've got this black smug on my forehead....

FYI

In case anyone is interested, I will be in Iowa for a week and a half starting Monday. It will be mostly spent in Red Oak, though I will be in Des Moines from Monday through Wednesday. before a quick jaunt to Iowa City to get Sarah.

Looking forward to time with the family for Christmas. Not looking forward to the drive.

There's Another Airport I Could Have Flown Into

Here I am on Tonia's leather couch. My host/travel agent has disappeared. What a way to treat someone who drove 11 hours to Iowa today.

It's a quick trip. Off to the Quad Cities tomorrow evening for Patrick and W's wedding (What will I call Erin on Saturday night? "O"?), back to DM after the reception, and then to the Oak for a few hours to see most of the family and Grandma Sunday morning before I continue back to the mountains.

And I can't wait to get back. It's too damn humid here.

Well, time to turn in. I'll be staying in Lacy's bed tonight. She won't be there.

Springtime at 8000 Feet

Still snow in the mountains, but the weather's been beautiful here the last few days. Spring is here; I can smell the pine in the air. The world is opening up again after this miserable winter.

I took a walk around the lake yesterday after work. Lots of people out. I'm going to get a bike and use it to get to work a few days a week. I need to start doing some exercise again. This is mostly due to the fact that I feel like a beached whale. I can barely get past my gut in order to tie my shoes. I look five month pregnant; if i didn't have a beard, I'd probably be mistaken for a future mother. Not to mention all the grief I get from Tina, who is "losing weight" and "will be looking good for summer."

I'll be in Iowa for a few days next week. Flying again, this time into Omaha on Wednesday, where some family member will pick me up. Then off to Des Moines for interviews.

Perhaps I'll write about it in sooner that a month.

Stopping In to Say Hello

Thought I'd make an appearance here, though not in much of a mood at the moment to detail my trip to Iowa. I will say that the plane ride was fun; Tonia and Lacy's apartment is classy; the hour lunch with Sarah was much-needed; the wedding was graced, the couple beautiful, the basilica glorious, and the time with old friends energizing; the days spent with Luke and Corey were jazzy--not to mention hilarious; the UNI campus is ever-changing (and fondly missed); and the hours spent with Fr. Ken were blessed.

Also, after a week on an air mattress--and Corey's love seat and floor--my bed has never felt better.

Some interesting things going down at the Y, too.

I promise that I'll fill you in at some later date.

PS to Corey: How pissed are you that they changed the time that The Monastery aired Sunday?

T-minus 25 Hours, 8 Minutes and Counting

My first flight (as a cognizant adult, rather than a six-month old baby) is fast approaching. Excitement is compounded by the fact that I'll be returning to Iowa and visiting lots of old friends, including Tony and Steph who are finally getting married.

Also included on the itinerary is lunch with my sister--the only family member I'm expecting to see--and a few days in Cedar Falls with Corey and Luke. Will be interesting to visit UNI again for the first time in a year and a half.

But before all this happens, I'm going to Denver tonight to see the traveling Broadway production of The Lion King. And since I'll be staying overnight there, I won't have to get up early in order to drive to the airport by 8:30. These are the only details of the trip that I've handled, however; the rest has been taken care of by my travel agent and liaison in Iowa, Tonia.

So please send up a prayer for me at 10:25am MST tomorrow. That's when I'm scheduled to take off.

My Whirlwind Trip

Here I am on the couch again. Something made me check to see if I'd get the "borrowed" wireless signal, and for the first time in a few months, I do.

It's my day off. Haven't accomplished much, except a delicious bacon and egg breakfast, and the dishes have yet to be washed. It's been rainy and dreary most of the afternoon--if you can imagine that--so it's an ideal lazy day. Haven't had a break from work for a week, having worked overtime on Monday.

Some of you may know the events of my quick trip to Iowa last week. I appologize to the rest for keeping you in suspense.

When I arrived at Denver's Union Station at a quarter to seven that Thursday night, I learned from the ticket agent that the train wouldn't be arriving until 11pm. The woman behind me in line heard this and blurted out, "Do trains get that late?" Well, they do when they have to be rerouted through Wyoming due to track maintenance.

I called the family and rescheduled my pickup to Omaha, then strolled around the 16th Street pedestrian mall to kill a few hours. No much happening downtown Denver on a Thursday night, so I went back to the station and pulled out a book.

The train didn't actually arrive until 11:30 and then we didn't set out until 12:15. I was tired enough that sleeping in the coach seat wasn't too uncomfortable.

We pulled into the Omaha station at 10am Friday morning, and Brother was waiting for me on the platform. We faced about an hour's car ride yet to Red Oak, but before we started out, I asked if we could stop at Nebraska Furniture Mart for a bit. We were there no more than half an hour.

The car wouldn't start when we went to leave, and there was nothing in the car for such an occasion: no jumper cables, no tools, nothing. So we called our AAA agent, Kevin Naser, who after having no luck in getting any Omaha business to do a service call, made the trip out from Red Oak with a new battery.

After we got the car up and running, Dad instructed us on an alternate route to avoid a major backup on eastbound I-80. Our detour, however, was undergoing road construction and traffic crawled along. Six and half a dozen, as they say.

So I didn't arrive in Red Oak until 4:30pm Central Daylight Saving Time, nearly 24 hours after I'd started the trip. And Saturday was another three hours in the car to Fort Dodge.

Grandma's dinner was nice. Got to see the extended family--saw them, didn't really get the chance to talk, though. And Sunday morning we visited the family in the cemetery, took Grandma to lunch (for which she stubbornly paid), and even got in a visit to Dad's side of the family, which doesn't happen often. And then it was almost three hours in the car to the depot in Creston.

At least the train was only half an hour late that night.

Riding the Rails

Tomorrow after work I'm off for the rolling hills of Iowa. Dennis is taking me down to Denver's Union Station, and I'm hopping Amtrak's eastbound California Zephyr.

The round trip ticket was just over $200--half as much as an airplane and comparable to gassing up the car. Though it's the same amount of time as driving, the pluses are that I don't have to drive and I can sleep for part of the trip out.

And hooray for my first train ride.

A-wandering Out on the Hills of Iowa

I have returned from the Great State of Iowa, where strangers wave to each other, sweet corn is a complete dinner, and pigs outnumber people about seven to one.

Spent a couple of days in Des Moines, the city on which almost every person I know cenverged (including Mazvita), though I didn't get to see them all.

Saturday night I hopped back into the car for a few hours to return to the Oak, where Brother and Sarah came to visit. So I got to see the whole family, including Jacob Cole.

Following my seven hour car ride Thursday, Tonia dragged me to the Windsor Heights Wal-Mart (such trips are another great Iowa pastime). This is the Wal-Mart where a Drake University student spent 41 hours last week during his spring break.

The Des Moines Register broke the story a few days ago and it captured America's imagination. Since then he's been on Good Morning, America and NPR and possibly will appear on Letterman in a few days.

Iowa, how I miss thee.

Seth and the City

I just returned from a trip to Denver.

I'd planned this a few weeks ago to coincide with the Archdiocese's Living the Catholic Faith Conference. So I went down Thursday morning to spend the day wandering around town and then attend the first day of the conference on Friday.

So my time on Thursday consisted of strolling the 16th Street Pedestrian Mall, noon Mass at the Cathedral, and browsing both the Public Library and Art Museum.

I was extremely disappointed with the Art Museum. Not only were the collections small and unimpressive, but they are also completing a new building that is supposed to evoke mountain peaks, but instead just looks like a steaming city block of crap.

I was so moved at the conference Friday that I decided to stay for the second day today, which meant that I was also able to attend Theology on Tap at a local bar with Catholic apologist Patrick Madrid.

Part of my love of big cities is using public transportation. Denver has an excellent bus system and finding my way around was a breeze once I got my hands on time tables.

But I also like walking in the shadows of towering skyscrapers. Something about the immense size difference is awe inspiring.

My next trip to a big city? Des Moines at the end of this week.

Apparently you people anxiously await my postings--especially the funny ones--so I apologize for not updating regularly.

The trip to Iowa was great. The wedding was beautiful and I was blessed to see many St. Stephen's friends in the process.

Sunday after Mass, Tonia and I went in search of The World's Largest Cheeto, which is housed in Sarah's Restaurant in Algona. It looked like the place was open when we arrived.at noon, but there was no host to great us when we entered. We sheepishly explored the smaller surrounding rooms without luck before heading into the main dining room.

The room was packed with adults at the bar and little kids running around, but Tonia led the way, and we passed through their midst to the fireplace on the center wall, where on the mantle under bulletproof glass was the Cheeto.

We were a little disappointed because it was only the size of somewhere between a marble and golf ball--I'd hoped for softball. We would have taken a picture with it; however, I spotted the birthday cake on a nearby table and realized we were crashing a private party. So that's when we headed straight for the door.

On a more serious, un-Cheeto-related note: Don't miss the JPII miniseries that starts tonight on CBS.

Don't fret, Sara Morgan: My return to Iowa is only temporary. I have not left the Y forever. In fact, this is as good a time as any to announce that I begin full time at the Y as a housekeeping crew leader August 20th. Scrubbing toliets is not the most auspicious career, but it's pretty damn good for a philosophy major. Besides, it's about time I did some honest work.

The wedding was beautiful. Tony and Caroline make a good couple. We had a great time. Luke and Corey made it through the night at the Rustic B&B, and we took the nickel tour of the Oak this afternoon. There are pictures--including ones at the downtown gazebo and the Red Oak obelisk--and I will get them posted soon.

Wish me luck on the drive back tomorrow. I hope I make it through Nebraska alive.

Here I am with a stopover in the Oak between cross-country trips. Returned safely from Cleveland on Monday after an exciting weekend in the big city and will be departing for Estes Park Sunday afternoon.

Picked up Bridget and Emmy on Friday morning and then they drove me the rest of the way to Ohio. It was rainy on Saturday, but that didn't stop us from getting the Brehms onto public transportation for their first time. Peroused the Cleveland Museum of Art and downtown.
Sunday we went to Our Lady of Fatima for a two hour African-American Mass where we sung every five minutes, including rapping the Creed. Had a potluck with the Missionary Cenacle Volunteers and later ice cream at Malley's for dessert.

Shawn, Tonia's boss, took us out to breakfast Monday after daily Mass, then we headed home. I swear Bridget got us through Indiana in an hour. Spent some time with the whole clan after we arrived at the Brehm homestead: Phil, Bridget, Emmy, Grace, Nan, Robin, Terry, Bernadette, Tess, and the parents.

Had the Last Supper Tuesday night with ex-roommates Katie and Corey, and then got to see Corey's new A-P-T. Packed every crevice of the Malibu yesterday while dodging raindrops. Then while unpacking it today I split my pants.

Pictures to come. I'd forgotten how painful slow 56K is.

Get me to the mountains.

Got an email from the Y yesterday. Looks like I've got a summer job in the mountains again. That was easy. Who's next?

In the Oak right now. Rolled into town last night. Dad was at St. Mary's fish fry, so Mom and I had mushroom pizza. Tim and Charla came over with beer and talked for a while, catching up on small town news. Nothing's going on right now; watched the Iowa game this morning, the Iowa State game's on now, and UNI is on ESPN tonight, so why not make a day of it?

I really needed a lazy weekend away from Cedar Falls. Looks like I got it.

I'm getting antsy.

I'm leaving for Colorado on Friday. We'll be there for a week, camping, hiking, etc. I hope that I'll want to come back to Iowa when time is up.

I'm at home right now, on my way back to CF within the hour in order to be back for work tonight. I came to see Mom, Dad, and Sarah before my schedule gets busy. Also needed to pick up a few things now that they're done with them following their trip to Idaho and the Grand Tetons.

And then I found five dollars.