Trip #3- Day 3.

Oh home, how I've missed you.  This is the only thing I could think of when I awoke with every single muscle in my body aching.  This bed was pure torture on me.  Once again I grumble to myself as I get out of bed and get dressed. 

We pack up the Yaris for the last time this weekend and check out.  I beg my darling boyfriend to go back to Traders World.  I know, I should of had enough the first day.  But I really wanted to get some extensions for my hair.  I'm so sick of it being drab.  So we pick up some brown lucious locks for my scalp and hit the road.  We are so exhilerated to leave the state of Ohio and cross back into Indiana, we actually may have given Ohio the middle finger.  Sorry to all the cool cities that I'm sure exist somewhere, but Dayton gives you a bad name. 

We go off route a bit to check out Philadelphia, Indiana.  I found it on my handy dandy atlas Friday night when I was checking out the route and could NOT pass it up.  It is a tiny po-dunk town just past Greensburg.  We found a beat down motel for sale and I vow to go back and build it up to it's former glory.  Jerry suggests we name it "It's always sunny."  Bonus points if you understand that.  Once back on the highway we come across a candle outlet/Ford museum.  The museum was filled with old Model-Ts, everything from a fire truck, ambulence, farming truck, snow plow, race car and camper.  It was a pretty cool gig for $2 to break up the drive home.  We pulled in the driveway about 7pm...I walked in the house, put my stuff away and relaxed with my girls.  I think a sign of Mandy getting old is that I was more excited to be home than to leave.  Let's hope this doesn't become a trend :)  Well thanks for reading once again...

Trip #3- Day 2. 5 down. 87 to go.

I lay in bed and listen to the alarm scream at me. Bastard, I don't want to be up this early. After staring at the wall for five minutes I decide to get my lazy bum out of bed, hop in the shower and get ready for the days shenanigans. We check out and head towards Dayton about 8:30. We could not stop laughing as we hit miles and miles of Tom Raper signs. This guy has RVs, homes, and truck parts. I'm not trying to be full of hate, but if my last name were Raper, I would not advertise it. Just sayin. Full of excitement, we inch closer to the next Johnny destination. In my mind I imagine Dayton as a close relative to Indianapolis, a smaller big city. When we pull into town I am full of disbelief of how quiet and bare the streets look. Now is the part where you look away if you are a fan of Dayton, or Ohio in that matter....you have been forewarned. Dayton sucks.

Seriously folks, we wandered around the supposedly "hot spot" of Dayton for about two hours waiting for the shops to open. Everything was closed and the streets were bare. We stopped in a liquor store/deli and I asked the young man what was good with Dayton. To which he replied "Nothing." Great, this trip is off to a fantastic start. Around noon the sleepy town starts to awaken, bodies appear on the sidewalks and the doors open for business. I picked up a couple new albums for my record collection including Dolly Parton, Conway Titty and Loretta Lynn duets, a Johnny album I don't currently own and and last but not least a Kenny Rogers album that supposedly has a history with my parents. Jerry picks up Aerosmith, Grateful Dead, Pink Floyd and a couple others I can't recollect at the moment. We hit up a vintage 50's clothes store called Feathers, the Goodwill and decide that there is nothing else in this area. Lets wander the city.

After riding in circles for about a half hour we find the baseball stadium and take a couple pics. With this city failing to keep my attention we agree Cincinnati would be a great destination. Hop on I-70 to I-75 South. Now if you are my true friend, compadre, partner in crime, or just a really good acquaintance you know I absolutely heart anything kitschy. For those of you new to my world here's a quick definition...
Kitsch (kch) 1. Sentimentality or vulgar, often pretentious bad taste, especially in the arts.

So the plans to hit Cincinatti were slightly derailed when we crept up on this wonderfully tacky flea market. My world was turned upsdie down once I came across Traders World. This unique flea market is decorated with giant cement giraffes, ducks, buffalo, frogs, etc. The sheer "wow" factor of the outside made my toes curl in excitement. This very thing made up for Dayton sucking. Filled with generic tools, hats, car accessories, clothes, toys, sports memoribillia, restaurants, a pony ride, and a carousel among many other things. The madness sprawled over twelve different builidings, both inside and out. I cannot begin to explain the hilbillies that surrounded us, it seriously put People of Walmart to shame! We spent about 4 hours getting lost while picking up a Rte. 66 sign and some kettle corn that was addicting like cocaine.

After hours of overbearing excitement the nearest motel was calling our names. We headed out to the Economy Inn, dropped off our bags and headed out for a bite to eat. The county brochure recommended we try out Riverside Cafe in Hamilton, OH. We did, it was okay. The best part about it was watching Jerry make this lil old mans day by discussing sports. I concentrated on the beer in front of me. We then hit up an Irish "Pub" across the street from our motel. It was more of a sports bar but seduced our appetites with some wonderful burgers and beer. Much more my pace than the upscale bar with $5 beers. This called it a night and we head back to the motel for a good nights sleep.

Trip #3- Day 1.

I pull up to the house with a surge of panic running through my veins.  Damn to-do list.  Take the dogs out, empty the dryer, put the clean dishes away, make the bed, make the guest bed, feed the dogs, pack my bags, pack the cooler and nag the boy to get ready in a proficient manner.  Using my new domesticated super powers I knock them out one-by-one and burst out the door in a frenzy.  Jerry grabs our mega-can of change and we head to the nearest Coinstar to help fund the newest Johnny trip.  After joyfully losing the bet of how much we have saved up, we hit the road with an extra $55 in our pockets.  After a quick stop at the gas station to feed the Yaris, we hit the road about 6:30pm. 

After a boring 3 hour drive on I-65 South we jump onto I-70 East towards Ohio.  By now Mandy has sleepy eyes and is ready to find somewhere for the night.  We get off in Greenfield, check in at the Dollar Inn and plop down on the bed.  It's only 10:30(eastern time) but I am exhausted.  After eating some sandwiches from the cooler and laughing at the always ridiculous Bill Maher, it's snooze time.

Trip#3

Coming to a blog near you....

November 13th :)

Where could I be going now???

Update.

So it's been a hot minute since I've been on a Johnny journey.  Life has been quite a commotion since the last trip....here's the skinny.

After months of procrastinating and facing my fear of another relationship, Jerry & I officially became an "item."  It's funny because we did everything ass-backwards from the start of our relationship as far as dating standards go, but it worked out really well.  I trust this boy with my heart.  He makes me laugh, cooks me dinner, encourages my outrageous road trip behavior and loves me for me.  *Boy, if you're reading this...you break my heart, I break your face.  Love you.*

We adopted little Addison Lou, a 5 year old min-pin/rat terrier mix whom is unfortunately named after the Cubs.  It was a sacrifice I had to make to get her home with me.  Addison is after the road Wrigley Field sits on, and Lou for Lou Piniella.  She is a complete and utter spaz, words cannot describe how off-the-wall quirky this little dog is.  She was rescued from a hoarder/breeder along with 20 other dogs that had never seen life outside a wire cage.  Slowly she's getting used to a spoiled life.  And Jasmine is getting used to having that perpetual shadow follow her around 24/7.
Let's see...what else....

Oh, I've moved.  We got a 2 bedroom/1 bathroom house with a full basement in Hobart.  I must say it's definitely "home."  There is a county kitchen, complete with knotty pine walls and hand-me-down 1960's cookbooks from Jerry's Grandma.  I must brag about how sweet this boy is, he says my cooking is good even when it's too salty/runny/burnt/etc.  I have my own craft area(score!) littered with glue, paper, scissors, fabric and a freakin stupendous sewing machine.  There you can find all kinds of do-it-yourself projects I have started, but in true Mandy fashion not finished.  The basement is undergoing renovation to become the party pad, with a donated Pool and Foosball table.  I have plans to build a bar with my bestest Mary, but that'll have to wait til the snow falls and apprehends my "go go go" spirit.  We've adopted a neighborhood cat, who I call Kitty Kitty, that waits for me every night I get home to feed her.  She roams the neighborhood fighting crime and planning the ultimate demise of the world.  This is why I try and stay on her good side.

Other than that, life just goes on one day at a time.  I haven't forgotten about you Johnny, I've started a Cash record collection. I'm still trying to scrape up a couple extra pennies to do another Johnny trip before winter.  I'm planning one ginormous, awesome, kickass trip in spring of 2011...so you'll just have to keep your eyes and ears open for that blog.  Until the next quest, keep it classy San Diego :)

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.)