Trip #2- Part 2. 4 down. 88 to go.

10am and I'm awake, refreshed and ready to hit the road.

I hop in the bubble and pull out the atlas. Ok, here's the bad part...skip it if you must. I'm a bad girl and can't find my way to Baraboo, so I pull out the TomTom. Whew, I hate to admit it, but I had to get it off my chest. There was no way I would've found my way alone. TomTom showed me the way down some crazy country roads, some lightly used highways and through hours of cornfields. It was a beautiful summer day, the air was warm and buzzing with a nice breeze. High 80's, so very tolerable. I jam out to some Rascal Flatts, Devil Doll, Johnny Cash and Sarah Blackwood, what a day to sing at the top of my lungs. Dear residents of Wisconsin, I apologize if I pierced any eardrums on the drive.

I wind through a couple small towns, speed limit 25. Really? Really? Are you worried a cow is going to jump in front of a car? Anyways, I land in Baraboo around noon. The downtown area is set in a square fashion, a reminder of old days with little shops, bars and the A.L. Ringling theater. I was too late to take a tour, but it looked pretty rad from the outside. It was built in 1915 by Albert Ringling, one of the founders of the circus. I snapped a few pics and head over to Square Tavern for a beer, burger and fries. It was definitely the "neighborhood" bar, with Mr. I'm getting a Divorce, wheres my pity party next to me. On the other end was Mr. Anti-social with his grumpy attitude and newspaper to hide his face behind. I devour my lunch, ask the bartender about the local attractions and find my way to Rock Springs, WI. About 20 minutes west of Baraboo I hit up the locally owned Big Cat Rescue. Home to 26 big cats, including 16 Tigers, 7 Lions, and 3 Leopards. My favorite was Beemer, the old man of the place. He was a lazy lil lion the just looked at me like "it's hot, I'm grumpy, leave me along." I feel ya old man.

I decide it's time to head home...get in the car...continue blasting my music and sit in traffic for the next 4.5 hours, yay! I stop for a romantic dinner at the Hindsdale Oasis, woo hoo for Panda Express. Arrive home around 10pm and happy to see my lil Jasmine who stayed with her auntie Fay for the weekend. She meets me at the door whining with some kisses, looking for a sympathetic belly rub. Another successful weekend down in the books. 491 miles added to the speedometer. Now...where should I go for trip #3?????

Trip #2- Part one. 3 down. 89 to go.

My alarm screams at me. It is a gloomy 8am, following a 2:30am bedtime. Those drinks were definitely not a good idea, stupid Vodka. I hear the rain tapping on the siding as I roll my chubby butt out of bed and throw on some clothes. Good thing my bag was already packed. Hungover Mandy, meet road trip number 2.

I fuel up, grab a mountain dew and a bag of Doritos(I swear this is a staple of the road trip diet,) and head down I-94W. To my surprise traffic really wasn't that bad, I arrive in Milwaukee right around 11am. Right off the interstate I land in a not single girl friendly neighborhood, or at least the influx of cop surveillance would make me believe so. On my left I spot an eye-catcher. Leon's Frozen Custard, here I come! They've been servin up frozen treats, along with hot dogs and burgers, since 1942. I pull up to the old school custard stand and order myself a strawberry shake. Total num num quality. Time to leave the ghettotastic area. I wander downtown, in awe of the beautiful historic buildings and gorgeous scenery. I never pictured Milwaukee being such a beautiful place, I'm glad I could take it all in. After cutting a car off(sorry buddy, next time use the turn signal) I hit up the Forest Home cemetery for a look at heroes past. I find many unique gravestones and mauseleums, my favorite being the final resting place of Valentin Blatz, one of Milwaukees groundbreaking brewers. Besides Mr. Blatz, I seek out August Krug, Joseph Schlitz, Frederick Pabst and the Davidson family(as in Harley-Davidson.) To my disapointment, I'm not able to locate Jacob Best(founder of what would become Pabst.)

After I say my goodbyes to the deceased, I head towards the Miller Brewery for a afternoon tour. Our tour guides, Amy and Diane(whom sounded straight out of the movie Fargo) showed us the brewing process, the warehouse floor, and the underground caves. After a rainy morning, the underground caves tingled my nose with the scent of wet dog meets grandma's nasty basement. But it was still pretty cool to hear how they used to line the caves with ice to keep the beer cool during the summer months. We head off to the beer garden, where I am blessed with a glass of Miller lite and two samples to choose from. I choose a new beer, still in the baby stages, called Batch 19. It has a nice smooth flavor and goes down quickly. I will partially blame this on the fact it was hot as a mug and boy was I thirsty. I wrap up the tour with another sample of the Batch 19 and head my way back to the bubble.

I dart across town a few minutes to the Pabst Mansion. Random thought, why must all breathtakingly beautiful historic houses always be in the ghetto? Anyways, after circling the neighborhood I finally find the home to the sea captain/brewer, his wife, daughter and granddaughter. Built in 1890, the structure took two years to finish. I can't even describe the elaborate details, both inside and out. The home was lived in by the Pabst family from 1892-1908, until the deaths of both Mr. & Mrs. Pabst. It was then purchased by the archdiocese of Milwaukee. They proceeded to cover the walls/ceilings in a stark white paint and cover the hardwood floors with beige carpet. I couldn't imagine such a place losing the very identity that it once showboated back in the day. Since then the historical society saved it from becoming a parking lot and is working on bringing it back to life. There are many authentic paintings, furnishings and even safes still intact, which allows the mind to imagine the captain sitting in the Music room, smoking a cigar laughing with the gents. Or Maria Pabst, sitting in the ladies parlor gossiping with her closest friends surrounded by lavish pink and gold interior. They have painstakingly restored the home by hand painting the ceilings and refinishing the floors. The quirkiest part of the home, to my opinion, is how there are random Hops built into the home. Mr. Pabst was a avid beer man after all :)

Following the tour of the mansion I head to 10th and Highland Street, home of the Pabst Brewing Company. Since the brewery closed their doors in 1997, not much is left to see. The buildings are delopatated and boarded up. But I don't mind, my imagination likes to run wild. I imagine workers surrounding the plant in its prime during the late 1800s. Its beauty runs farther than the fumbling brick and broken windows, it has a rich history and colorful past. If only modernization hadn't left it behind...

It's evening, I'm tired and ready to take a break. I hop in the bubble, continuing on 94, and hit Fond du Lac around 7pm. After finally finding a place to sleep(who would've know that one of the largest air shows is going on?) and unpacking, I lay on the bed pondering what to do now. I hop in the shower and hit up downtown Fond du Lac. I browse through all the little stores in this old-fashioned strip of town and wind up at JD Finnagans. The little dive bar on the corner just so happened to be calling out my name with Pabst on Tap. What a way to finish the day. The locals were very friendly, asking me about my trip and laughin at some lame jokes the drunk in the corner was throwing out.

I head back around 11pm and fall asleep on the softest bed ever made in the world(yes, it was that good.)