The Adventure Continues!

Thursday, August 8, 2019

We needed to leave San Francisco first thing Thursday morning, because we had a flight out of Fresno at 4:02 that afternoon. We missed our final breakfast with our friends at Dottie’s True Blue Cafe, one of our favorite places, but work called.

We got home about 10:30 and threw one load of everything into the washer. The cat insisted he’d not been fed even once in the four days we’d been gone so we took turns feeding and petting him. As 2:00 our friends arrived to shuttle us to the airport and we were off again.

The ticket agent informed us that our connection in Denver was delayed due to storms. They couldn’t land and so our flight was impacted. Okay, not great news, but it would only make us half an hour later into Des Moines.

Well, that was only the beginning.

At our gate, we waited for the boarding call. And waited. And waited. Then came the announcement that the incoming flight was delayed. And delayed. By the time it finally arrived, and we were onboard, we still waited to take off, and we were grateful the Denver flight was delayed. Bottom line: we’d have about 30 minutes to make the connection.

In Denver, that’s risky. It’s such a huge airport. Even if you’re in the same terminal, it could be half an hour to walk to your next gate. But there was nothing we could do except try.

We landed. And we waited again. There was a problem with the jetway. If we’d been able to get off right away, we’d have made the connection. I’m convinced those ten minutes cost us that flight. We ran the half mile to the next gate only to be told we were too late. The flight hadn’t left the gate yet, but they wouldn’t let us on.

So we joined the line of roughly 200 other stranded passengers for customer service. I used the app to book us on a flight the next morning as standbys, but we needed to talk to a live person about other options and also where our bags were. It took two and a half hours to work our way to the front of the line. Because the delays were weather related, all the airline offered us was bottled water while we stood in line and a “Freshness” Kit, of an empty water bottle, toothpaste, toothbrush, etc. The rep also gave us three blankets instead of two, since we’d be sleeping in the airport that night and it was already midnight. 

The best the agent could do for us was to get us on an 11 am flight to Moline, Illinois where we’d rent a car and drive two hours and forty minutes to Des Moines, pick up our bags at the airport, and then return the car and finally begin our fair time.

We hiked the mile from B Terminal to A Terminal to the gate where the 8:00 AM flight to Des Moines was scheduled to depart, hoping it wouldn’t be changed to a different gate (and that our standby status would get us on the flight).

IMG_2626Now I can say I’ve slept on an airport floor. And I actually did sleep for a couple of hours. The lights were bright, so I was grateful for that third blanket. Dave let me have it, so I was covered, toes to head, and the lights weren’t in my eyes.  As close to heaven as one could get on the floor of an airport.

In the morning, we shared a breakfast sandwich and had coffee and prayed and hoped. Dave talked to gate agent. She said the flight had one empty seat, so we needed just one passenger to not show up. You feel bad hoping someone misses their flight, but … there could be lots of reasons they don’t make it. I think. Maybe.

As boarding began, we watched and waited. Then we gathered our things and hovered near the gate, hoping the agent would see us and have pity. She called for three passengers, “Final boarding.” One woman ran up, huffing and puffing. She swore her friend was right behind her. She squinted and pointed down the terminal to someone running.

The agent kept calling for one more passenger, “Barbara, final call.” She went out the door, closing it behind her and we thought we were headed to Moline and a rental car. I started searching my United app for its departure gate.

Then the agent was back and asking, “Were there standby passengers for Des Moines?”

“Us!” We rushed toward her.

“Come on! Hurry!”

She flung the door open and trotted down the ramp and onto the tarmac, waving at the pilot who was already going through his checklist and not looking up. The runway employees had pulled the stairs away. Dave shook his head. The plane backed away.

The agent jumped up and down, waving two fingers.

Finally the pilot saw her. The plane stopped. The door opened. Stairs lowered.

We dashed up, apologized to the flight attendant. “I’m sorry, they forgot us! We slept on the floor!”

I stopped at the first vacant seat. A man sat at the window. A water bottle and a small bag were in the seat. I indicated I needed to sit there. “Oh, sorry. Your seat?” He picked up the things. “This was my wife’s. I guess she didn’t make it.”

Oops. I guess his wife was Barbara. He had on headphones and it was obvious he did not want to talk, so we sat in silence for the hour and a half flight. Except when we deplaned. I had brought the blankets on board, just in case. Then I left them behind on the seat. As I stood and started to move down the aisle, he said, “Ma’am, your jacket.” I turned around. “Oh, no. It’s blankets from sleeping on the floor.” He nodded. So yes, we shared a moment.

Next, our bags. They should be on the plane with us. The agent last night assured us since they were tagged in Fresno to Des Moines, they would make it to Des Moines, even if we went to Moline. So we headed to baggage claim, and sure enough, first Dave’s bag came out of the slot, then mine! Finally, things were going right. 

Now I called the hotel. I hadn’t thought to call earlier, but our reservation was confirmed for the day before, so arriving before official check-in time shouldn’t be a problem. We just needed to get to the hotel. I called to ask about a shuttle, but nope. So we Ubered to the hotel, checked in, and collapsed.

After naps, we looked around for a place to get an early dinner. Google maps said there was a BBQ place just a block away so we headed out. We found it easily enough, but it was closed up tight. At 4:00 on a Friday. Sigh. Later, we found out they were probably out at the fair with a booth.

There was also a diner right next to the hotel so we returned there, shared some grilled chicken and vegetables. Then we called up another Uber for a ride to a drugstore to buy a few supplies. We had a lovely driver named Veronica. This was definitely a God-ordained appointment. She drives Uber on weekends as a second job, putting the money toward a ministry she’s launching to bring electricity to Africa. She’s also a survivor of a workplace shooting. By the end of the ride, we were all talking super fast, trying to get everything said that needed to be said, before we had to get out of the car. Uber sets a limit on how much I could tip, or I would have given her more for the electricity project.

We had an early night and still fell asleep quite easily. Then Saturday we hit the Iowa State Fair!

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The Adventure Interlude: Home and SF

July 30 – Aug. 7, 2019

We got home on the 30th and kept busy with laundry, my work, and household stuff. We celebrated a family birthday and got to see the grandkidsIMG_2496. We had hired a lawn service and the guy decided we live too far away and quit, so we scrambled to find someone else. Which we did. Whew! My mom and I took in a presentation of Calamity Jane, starring Louise Mandrell. Dave and I hosted a family gathering on IMG_2503Saturday, August 3rd. Our niece, Katie, and her daughters were visiting from Maryland, so we got to see them and get caught up.

Then Sunday August 4th, we left again. This time for a personal vacation in San Francisco with two couples, both longtime friends. Wally and Deb are moving out of state soon, and they generously shared their timeshare points with us so we had very nice accommodations near Union Square.

We went to church Sunday morning, then we had a bit of tidying up to do around the house from the day before, so we didn’t get away as soon as we’d hoped. Let’s just say Dave made up for the late start by driving like he couldn’t with the trailer behind him in Indiana, Illinois, and Minnesota. We got to SF about 5, checked in, found our friends, and settled in with drinks and snacks and catching up and stories and laughter.

Monday was a day of fabulous firsts. We went to Sears for breakfast. I’ve already mentioned my issue with eggs. I ordered one egg, over hard. This was the best restaurant cooked egg I’ve ever had. It was perfect! A first! I neglected to get a picture, because the thing with eggs is, they have to be eaten while still hot. There’s a very slim time margin. But trust me. I’m a very picky egg eater. This one was perfect.

After breakfast, we headed to the Ferry Building, then walked to catch a ferry to Alcatraz. Dave and I had never been there. Another first. It’s a fascinating place, with so much IMG_2525history. It was quite breezy out there and Dave’s audio tour/headphones got out of sync, so he missed some parts, but it was still a great experience. We spent a couple of hours wondering the island.

After coming back to the city, Tony researched restaurants. A mention on the tour of spaghetti in the dining hall had several of us wanting pasta for dinner. Tony found a place with great reviews and we headed there. We found it, but there was a problem … they served no alcohol. After walking 10,000 steps, we needed a glass of wine to go with our spaghetti!

The staff there directed us to their second location, which was more of a sit down place, since their’s was more take-out. We conferred. No one wanted to walk the additional half mile. Luckily, we were in North Beach, which is rich with Italian restaurants. I pointed across the street and squinted. The sign said Luisa’s … Something or other. 

We crossed the street. A lit sign in a window said Pizza. Two men sat at a table on the sidewalk. There were lights on inside, but no other indications that they were open. Now we could read the name of the place: Luisa’s Ristorante.

Little did we know the treat awaiting us.

One of the men out front wore an apron so we asked if they were open. He said yes,  stood, and we entered.

A woman was sitting at a table. We asked again if they were open. A waiter said yes,  gestured to us to choose a table, any table. The woman stood, gathered her papers, and shuffled off. The waiter gave us “menus.” Three sheets of 9×12 papers, stapled together.

IMG_2545The woman shuffled back, sat at our table, and introduced herself as Luisa, ninety-one years old, the owner and chef. She proceeded to show us pictures of celebrities who had dined at her restaurant in the past, including Sophia Loren and Guy Fieri. Her accent was thick, her hair very dark (for ninety-one years old), and her attitude presumptuous. I asked what Guy had eaten and she told me he loved her gnocchi.

On the menu, the gnocchi was listed as, “Gnocchi ***** Yelp” followed by a brief description and the choice of sauces. (I figured out that meant the gnocchi has a 5 star rating on Yelp. We also learned later that she’d recently relocated the ristorante to that North Beach location. SF leases and landlords being unreasonable and all that, you know.)

Tony and Dave asked about the wine selection and Luisa reached for a bottle of red, announced it was her own blend and it was an excellent choice, even if the alcohol content was a bit over what was strictly legal-wink, wink. Tony ordered a bottle for the table. Since I stick to white (red gives me leg cramps), Dave ordered a bottle of Pinot Grigio for the table as well. It was realllly good. Deb started with a glass of the red, but she switched to the white after she tasted it.

Then. We attempted to order our dinners. As the first person ordered, Luisa not-so-gently corrected their order. “No. You want that with the pappardelle. I make that. I don’t make the spaghetti.” By the end of the ordering, each of us was looking at Luisa for approval. Dave ordered a Napalese pizza. That passed fine. I ordered the gnocchi. Instead of the four or five sauce options on the menu, she gave me a choice of two: the pesto or the vodka sauce. I chose the vodka, a light pink sauce. IMG_2543Wally chose Luisa’s sauce (pancetta, peas, and a few other ingredients) with his pasta and he said it was excellent.

I’ve ordered gnocchi before. I like it. I always think it’s going to be better than it is.

Until Luisa’s.

I will never order gnocchi anywhere else, ever again.

Ah. May. Zing.

Light. Velvety. Delicious! The sauce was perfect with the gnocchi. I don’t care if I ever eat gnocchi again, because I’ve had them as perfectly as they can ever be made. Another first!

Luisa is a true character. While she sat with us, she shared some of her stories. She zeroed in on the men in our party. (Talk about a flirt!) She knew Tony was a salesman. He’s also Italian, so they traded stories about the old country.

While we were eating and chatting, a young woman bounced in, handed Luisa her resume, and bounced out, in about twelve seconds. She wasn’t out the door three seconds before Luisa ripped the resume in half and tossed it aside. Our table hooted. Kim and I exchanged glances and whispered consultations. That was not the way to go about applying for a job with Luisa.

Another customer came into the restaurant. He sat near us. Listened. Ordered. Luisa paid no attention to him. Another young woman came in with a resume. She did sit and chat with Luisa before leaving. Her resume did not get torn up.

Kim and I watched the other customer order and eat. Remember, this was a Monday. And early in the evening. I’m 90% sure he was a chef. He dined alone. He knew who Luisa was. When he was done, he approached her, introduced himself, chatted for a moment. I wasn’t near enough to hear their conversation, but he was invited to sit. They talked for several minutes. I’m quite sure he was either scoping out the competition or applying for a job. And he knew how to go about it, not like the first young woman with the resume that got torn up.

We finally left to catch a cable car back to our hotel. Our whole experience was wonderful. And all because the takeout place across the street didn’t have a liquor license.

I have two more days in San Francisco to talk about and two travel days to Des Moines to catch up on. We are safely in Des Moines. After some delays and excitement in Denver. But this post is already too long. I’ll continue to post and catch up in the next few days. Thank you for reading!!

 

 

 

The Adventure: Day 16

Tuesday, July 30, 2019

Happy Birthday, Amber!

We got up early in Minneapolis, and made it to the airport and through security with just about fifteen minutes to spare before our first flight. Our layover in Salt Lake City was just enough time to run from Terminal C to Terminal E and catch our flight to Fresno.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough time for Dave’s suitcase to make the flight. Mine did. We hope his caught the afternoon flight and will be here this evening sometime.

We will spend the next few days catching up on work and house and yard chores and laundry. We’ll see family and friends and celebrate a birthday or two.

We’ll leave again Sunday for a few days in San Francisco with friends. The Great Adventure blog will resume when we fly from San Francisco to Des Moines on Thursday, August 8th. First stop: The Iowa State Fair! Fair fare!

Thank you so much for reading and commenting and being encouraging!

The Adventure: Day 15

Monday, July 29, 2019

Another crazy, exhilarating, exhausting day. We left our hotel in Austin, MN and hightailed it to the SPAM museum ASAP as we could. The museum opened at 9 AM and IMG_2469we got there about 9:30.

True confession: I thought we’d be the only ones there, wandering a cavernous building all alone.

David, of course, thought the opposite. We’d be crowded, shoulder to shoulder, shuffled along, already too late to see anything of interest and having to hurry past the exhibits.

Thankfully, the truth was somewhere in between. There were people in the museum, but it wasn’t crowded. And it was more interesting than I expected.

There was lots of history about the Hormel family, how the patriarch started as a butcher and entrepreneur and meat processor and the “empire” started with the Hormel sealed/packaged ham. And then it expanded to the Dinty Moore canned stews, then Jay Hormel wanted to bring chili to the northern states.

SPAM was actually a late comer to the Hormel family (kinda-sorta). IMG_2472I was really impressed how Hormel is still actively seeking to keep their brand relevant and meaningful.

In the last two weeks we’ve been in Indiana, Illinois, Iowa, and Minnesota. Dave and I have quizzed each other about what’s unusual in each state. What do we see that’s different? What do we not see that we’re used to seeing at home? One of my comments was the ubiquitous array of trash containers for “Trash,” “Plastic Recyclable,” “Glass Recyclable,” and “Paper/Cardboard Recyclable.” I’ve seen signs reminding me to recycle, but there haven’t been a lot of different containers. Except at the SPAM Museum. They had them all!

Dave had been talking to the staff at the Minnesota Farm Fest about when and where we could drop off the trailer for the event there. While we were wandering the SPAM Museum, he got a call. The woman on the other end of the phone, over 100 miles away, told us we had  to go to the Tendermaid Cafe for lunch and get a hamburger. But it’s not a usual hamburger. It’s a loose meat burger.

Well … when someone, two hours away, calls to make a restaurant recommendation, we listen!

The Tendermaid was less than a block from the SPAM Museum and it opened at 11 AM. We arrived a few minutes after opening and scored a couple of seats at the counter. We IMG_2474had no clue what we were doing or ordering, but we managed to order a “hamburger,” to share and a malt (which we were also told we “had” to order).

When I had researched food in Iowa, the loose meat sandwich popped up, but I didn’t know it was also a thing in Minnesota.  It’s kind of like a Sloppy Joe, but without the sloppy sauce.

The Tendermaid has been serving loose meat burgers for 81 years. Of course Dave wondered why they didn’t have a SPAM burger (insert rolling eye emoji), but I didn’t. They’ve been in business nearly as long as SPAM has been around. Who knew SPAM was going to be a thing 80 years later? The Tendermaid found their wheelhouse and stuck with it.

The diner is super small. The steamer/cooker is the original (i.e. 81 years old!).IMG_2477 The staff  comes in at about 9 am and start cooking/steaming the meat and breaking it up. We ordered a hamburger. Dave watched when an order for a cheeseburger came in. The waitress/cook scraped together a bunch of meat, laid down a slice of cheese, pulled more meat on topIMG_2479 … let it sit a minute, then pulled it all onto a bun.

Made me wish we’d ordered a cheeseburger! Actually, we did. We ordered a Western Bacon Cheeseburger to-go for the guy we were meeting at the Minnesota Farm Fest to drop off the trailer. Someone who called and made the recommendation might have agreed with a question about should we bring a loose meat burger from the Tendermaid.

🙂

IMG_2480By noon-ish, we were headed to the Farm Fest site to drop off the trailer. And, once again, the winds were in full force. If we could just drive a truck and pull a trailer, everything would be great, but the winds! I can’t post videos on this blog (I’m cheap and haven’t upgraded yet), so check out my Facebook page for the 60 second video I took of Dave wrestling with the steering wheel, wind, and drafting vehicles.

We dropped off the trailer (and a gift of SPAM and a loose meat burger) at the Farm Fest venue and headed to our hotel near the Minneapolis-St.Paul airport. Surprisingly, for two Californians, we’ve actually been to this part of Minnesota before. We both came for the American Christian Fiction Writers conference in 2009 and I came for a deep/intensive/OMWord-I-can’teven-writers-conference a year or two later. But for both of those events, we/I saw: the Minneapolis-St.Paul Airport/The Mall of America/the venue hotel. And, sadly, this visit to Minneapolis doesn’t seem to be shaping up to be much different. We checked into our hotel a little after 6 pm.

Dave cleaned up the truck. We’re across the street from a strip mall, so he asked the front desk staff for a recommendation. He told them we were Californians, so they steered us away from the Mexican restaurant. We went to the “bar and grill.” While we were there, I researched the parking options at the airport. I’d assumed we’d leave the truck at the Long-term parking for our boss to pick up when he got into town in about a week.

That made sense. Until … the regular “Long Term” parking said the clearance is 6 foot …something. Given our experience last week,  we’re not willing to park there. So we (I) went looking for other options. There is another choice for long-term parking, And! they offer a 7′ clearance … but … you have to use the same credit card for entry and exit. Well  … that won’t work since we’re leaving the truck and someone else is picking it up.. 

Sigh …

We went to front desk and asked if they offered a “Park and Fly” option. They do. With shuttles to and from the airport. For the time we need … $60. The other options at the airport were going to be double that. At least.

We called our boss. He agreed to go with the Park and Fly. So … we’re in our room. We’ve got to get up earlier than we’d expected to get the shuttle to the airport.

We’ll be home around noon tomorrow. Probably stinking. Unshaven (both of us — no judging, okay!?!?).

We have some family and work and medical appointments to take care of the rest of the week. Sunday, we leave for an already planned vacation with friends. We’ll fly out of San Francisco (we think) to Des Moines for the Iowa State Fair (Deep-Fried Butter? More Loose Meat Sandwiches?) on August 8th. After the fair, we’re scheduled to move the trailer to Colorado.

But … as we’ve learned … stay tuned … who knows what’s next?? We don’t … only God …

 

The Adventure: Day 14

Sunday, July 28, 2019

Going to bed early last night helped (as did changing from Eastern to Central time). We woke before 7 AM, and were ready for breakfast when the hotel served it at 7:30. We checked out, hooked up, and hit the road at 8:45 AM.

IMG_2458Our destination was Austin, Minnesota, home of the SPAM Museum. So we could visit Monday morning before we head to Morgan, MN, home of the Farm Fest, to deliver the RALICares Trailer to its next venue.

I know. We were in Springfield, Illinois. Birthplace of Abraham Lincoln for 18 hours and couldn’t fit in a museum or historically significant site. (Although we ate a Horseshoe!) But we made it a point to be in Austin with time to visit the museum that pays homage to pickled/preserved/processed meat products. Believe me, I’m shaking my head in disbelief too.

Anyway … the journey started off easier. There was no cross wind, so we stayed in our lane without much effort.

Illinois is full of corn and soybeans and it’s green and beautiful.

After a few hours, we moved into Iowa.

Iowa is full of corn and soybeans and it’s green and beautiful.

I downloaded a Love’s Travel Center App and a Pilot/Flying J App so we could find gas IMG_2460easily on the road. We stopped for gas at a Flying J that had a Denny’s attached so we had lunch there. We’ve done enough road trips that we know when we need to take a break. We can’t do ten hour days without getting cranky with each other.

After lunch we changed from a generally northerly direction to a generally westerly direction. And the winds picked up. And staying in our own lane got progressively more challenging. I didn’t think of it until it was too late, but I will be taking pictures and video of Dave wrestling with the steering wheel to keep us going straight and in our own lane.

We crossed the Illinois River and the Mississippi River. We crossed several other rivers, many creeks and lakes. There are fewer animals/livestock than we’d expected. We’ve seen a few horses. One or two herds of cows. A few sheep. But honestly, I think I see more livestock between our house in Madera Ranchos and Fresno than I’ve seen here in the last week in Indiana, Illinois, Iowa, and Minnesota combined. And I’m not exaggerating.

IMG_2463Last night, Dave looked at my Google maps app route to Austin and decreed it unacceptable. The last hour or so appeared to be on a county highway. He decided he’d rather take a longer route and stick to state highways/freeways. Which is fine. After our experience last Sunday, I get it. 

But … today, as we drove, I continually cross-checked our route with Google maps and the CoPilot app, comparing the times, making sure we were okay with the length and weight of the trailer. And the biggest factor, to me … David’s favored state highway route added an hour to our day. And it was a more westerly route. We’d been fighting those cross-winds for a couple of hours already and we were both exhausted. He felt like he’d been arm-wrestling Lurch and I was the nervous passenger, afraid we were about to be blown off the road and only maimed, not immediately killed. (I’d rather go quickly, not linger.)

I brought up the two different routes on my phone, pointed out the differences to the driver. One was shorter and more northerly (meaning less cross winds). He agreed to IMG_2464change his previously decided route. Whew.

It worked out perfectly. The Google suggested route was definitely more rural, county highway-ish, but it was beautifully scenic, very little wind, and so much easier than the longer route someone wanted to take.

We arrived at our Austin hotel as rain started to fall. We got inside and check in before it turned into a full tornado warning. We ate our leftovers from last night and from lunch, then Dave turned on the television. Yep. A tornado warning for real. He went to the front desk, confessed to being a Californian. “We know what to do in an earthquake. What do we do in a tornado?” The front desk clerk did a good job hiding her grin, but basically said, “You’ll feel it coming. Just go into the center hallway and hunker down. But we don’t expect anything.” Sure. Until you do.

We’re in for the night. The SPAM Museum opens at 9 AM. I guess we’ll be there. Then we’ll head to the venue for the Farm Fest, in Morgan, MN to deliver the trailer. It’s a little over two hours away.

Then Dave and I go on to Minneapolis. We’ll fly home in the next day or two. We’ll be home for a week or so (for a previously scheduled vacation). We’ll be back with the RALICares trailer in Des Moines for the Iowa State Fair on August 9th.

Hmmm … Fair Fare …

Apparently the regional food of Iowa is a Maid Rite sandwich. We’ll definitely look up that one!

The Adventure: Day 13

Saturday, July 27, 2019

We left Indy about 9:30, a little later than we’d planned, but I wanted to take our time loading up, making sure we didn’t forget anything, and had our bearings. We said a sad farewell to the Holiday Inn Express – Westfield staff. TJ at the front desk, Kym and Leslie in the dining room. They were great and helpful and kind and gracious.

We stopped to fuel up after about half an hour, at a gas station we’d visited last Saturday,

IMG_2450
Illinois

near the truck wash and Steak ‘n Shake. Then we were officially on new and unproven roads.

Pulling this huge trailer is no joke. It’s a giant wind sail. Every gust pulls or pushes us. Trucks that pass us create a draw that feels like an earthquake shaking us.

After an hour and a half, we entered Illinois and gained an hour as we went from Eastern time to Central. The trailer seemed to be swaying a lot so we pulled over at a rest stop (staffed with real people for giving information) and David made a call to an acquaintance for some advice. He left a message and I searched for a hotel on the outskirts of Springfield. I called to be sure they could accommodate the trailer. Then we continued on. 

I passed the time by posting this morning’s entry about yesterday, reading a little, looking at the new scenery, and making sure David didn’t miss any freeway navigation changes.

We needed gas shortly after we passed the last Pilot Travel stop. Of course. I didn’t realize we were that close to empty, until the low fuel warning popped up on the navigation screen. Dave didn’t realize how quickly the truck sucked up fuel, either, since this was our first long distance trip with the trailer.

IMG_2448
Rolls of hay

We still had 50 miles of fuel, and we were about 30 miles from our destination in Springfield, so we were fine, but Dave said to go ahead and find a gas station.

Which I did, in Mechanicsville, about 2 miles off the freeway. I cross-checked the route with our CoPilot app (of course! Lesson learned!) and looked at the gas station from a satellite view. I was pretty sure we could pull in, but not 100%.

We found it and it was close, but we were able to pull in and through. It had high roofs over the pumps, so we were okay. But they didn’t have “Premium,” which the truck needs, so we ended up getting only $10 of gas. We also bought beef jerky for our lunch, and headed back to the freeway.

We planned to find our hotel, drop off the trailer, and go to a Lincoln museum. We found the hotel, which was next to a Tractor Supply Company. Dave went in to ask the manager if we could park there. He brought her out a minute later and introduced me to Kimberly. Her son is an addict and she was very interested in the trailer. We opened it up and while Dave unhooked (she gave enthusiastic permission for us to park there), I showed her the highlights in the trailer. She got a little teary a few times as she recognized and remembered some of the things I pointed out as “red flag indicators.”

While Dave was unhooking, a part of the winch (?? I think that’s what it’s called??) that is used to raise and lower the trailer as it’s hooked and unhooked from the truck, broke. It had broken partway on Thursday, at the farmer’s market, but it broke the rest of the way today. We looked at the TSC store, but they didn’t have a replacement. The part that broke is what made it possible for Dave to use an impact drill to raise and lower the trailer quickly and easily. Luckily (??), we still had the original part for raising and lowering the trailer manually. So he put that part back on. But by then, it was nearly 4:00. Too late to do any sight seeing or museum visiting. We went ahead and checked in.

And I was out of steam. Remember, beef jerky for lunch? It caught up with me. We checked in, went to our room and it was hot in there. The AC wouldn’t come on. So back to the front desk to get a different room.

We finally got a cool room, got our bags in, and collapsed. I did a bit of Googling on “Illinois regional cuisine.” And discovered that a Springfield specialty is the Horseshoe. I found two nearby places that had it on their menus. One was called the Trade Winds Pub

IMG_2457
The Trade Winds–good thing a review said to ignore the outside appearance!

& Eatery. The other was the Engrained Brew Pub. David asked the front desk staff for a recommendation. They hadn’t heard of either one at first. They thought for a minute, then one guy said, “Oh, yeah, that’s a bar!” referring to the Trade Winds, about 3/4s of a mile away.

We headed there, to the Trade Winds first, since it was close, thinking to check it out, then go to Engrained if the Trade Winds didn’t make the cut. We followed my trusty Google Maps and found a deserted-looking hut in the middle of a dusty parking lot. With trepidation, we headed in. One of the reviews I’d seen said, “Don’t be put off by the exterior.” Good thing I’d read that.

Inside it was definitely a bar. Some would call it a dive bar. But it looked clean and the staff was friendly and quick. We didn’t even look at a menu, just asked about the Horseshoe.

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Basically it’s a piece (or two) of Texas toast, with meat, topped with french fries, topped with cheese sauce. The original has hamburger. Now they offer a choice of meats. The waiter said their most popular is the breaded pork tenderloin so that’s what we ordered. He said, “It’s big,” so we knew to order just one and share it.

Big is an understatement. We both ate until we were full, brought some back to the hotel (I think Dave’s planning to have it for breakfast), and we still left quite a bit behind.

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The Horseshoe, after we were both full!

We waddled to the truck, then made it back to the hotel. It’s early to bed for us. Our plan is to hit the road again early tomorrow. Our destination is Austin, Minnesota. It’s six hours and twenty minutes away. Today’s journey was not quite three and a half. So we’re adding another three hours to tomorrow.

No Mr. Lincoln for us. No Springfield sights.

But … we’re scheduled to be back in Illinois in late September/early October. So I know where I want to go! And maybe what to eat.

The Adventure: Day 12

Friday, July 26, 2019

A good recovery day, after the excitement of Thursday.

IMG_2412Dave found a Ford dealer and bought some touchup paint. He consulted the collision department who said paint and clear coat would keep the scratches on the roof from rusting until it could be properly repaired.

I stayed in the hotel room and worked. I got some new words down on a tech writing job, so that’s always good.

We also did some laundry, expecting to hear that we’re done in Indiana and will be leaving tomorrow to take the trailer to Minnesota. That news came at 2:00. It’s a bit sad that we only got to do two events in Indiana and that the Colts Training Camp fell through. Everyone here has been so kind and welcoming. And everyone who’s visited the trailer wants to know where it’s going to be next so they can tell others. When I told a woman at Thursday’s farmer’s market that we were leaving in a day or so, her jaw dropped and she said, “Do you know the statistics for Indiana? Do you know what we have going on here?” We’re hoping to come back next year and spend more time. Or at least the trailer.

After we got the news that we were done in Indy, Dave called our boss to discuss moving the trailer to Minnesota for the Farm Fest. The boss will come to Minnesota for that and we’ll fly home for the first of our previously scheduled vacations.

IMG_2433Then we headed to Carmel, the next town over, to visit the Museum of Miniatures that we had popped into on Wednesday. We spent about an hour there. It’s an amazing place! The attention to detail is incredible, as well as the time invested. Besides houses, there are rooms, vignettes, scenes, exhibits of dolls and collections of miniatures.

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The admission fee is $10 and it’s well worth it. It includes an audio tour that gives additional information about some of the exhibits. I have a writer friend who makes miniatures and I thought of her often during the tour. As well as another friend who loves miniatures also. They both would have been in their element there.

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After looking at all the museum’s offerings, we left to find the elusive Indiana breaded pork tenderloin sandwich. Before we arrived in Indy, I’d Googled, “Indiana state food,” looking for a local specialty cuisine/dish. I found the pork tenderloin sandwich. We chatted with the consultants, and a friend from home who is from Indiana, and they all agreed: when in Indiana, you must have a pork tenderloin sandwich. It has to be breaded, and it has to be old-school, not “bougie.”

So I searched for the best pork tenderloin sandwich around us in Westfield or Carmel. I read lots of reviews. I debated driving thirty minutes to a definite old school place or take a chance on a nearby place with mixed reviews. But we really didn’t have time to drive any distance, and the local place, Muldoon’s, was walking distance from the museum.

It worked out great. We ordered the breaded (not grilled) pork tenderloin sandwich to share and substituted coleslaw for the kettle chips. It was everything everyone said. IMG_2440The pork was tender and delicious. It came with mayonnaise, pickles, and lettuce on the side, and a regular size hamburger bun. I’m not sure how you eat it as a sandwich. We just cut it up and ate it like a chicken-fried steak. Dave asked for mustard, but he didn’t use any. The pork was great as it was. 

We were back to the hotel and in for the night by 5:30. (I know. We’re such party animals!)

We talked about where to go on our way to Minnesota. We’re headed to Springfield, Illinois first. We settled on a route. I watched some of the livestream of the RITA awards (the Oscars for romance books) since I had some friends who were finalists (you all were robbed!). We took a last swim in the pool and got ready for bed and the next stop on the adventure!

Illinois and Minnesota, here we come. I hope we’re ready!