>As we edge into our fair country’s Independence Day celebrations, many families will be traveling. While you’re making plans and carrying them out, keep in mind the true cost of fuel.
How big is the Gulf Oil Spill now? Move it anywhere you wish, virtually. I moved it to Lake Michigan to put it in perspective.
Try it. If the size of the disaster didn’t worry you before this, it will now.
>It seems strange; we’re actively working on becoming more sustainable, remaining frugal, taking care of our family and our earth.
Yet on the Bucket List is a road trip of many miles – coasting along Route 66.
Amigo would enjoy listening to local radio, eating at diners, and meeting new people. I would enjoy the trip, blog each milestone, and probably bring a Flat Stanley along for the ride. La Petite would photograph it, when she wasn’t sleeping through the daylight hours. Chuck? I’m not sure which part of the trip would be his favorite, but he’d probably find family along the way; his cousins are scattered across the U.S.A.
My goals for the trip include seeing different sections of the country, stopping at diners and local family restaurants, taking time out to visit history museums that honor the memory of the Mother Road. That’s what really drives me: the history piece. I love the idea that we’ll be traveling a route with so many memories, so many tales to tell.
Amigo and Chuck like to try local dishes — within reason. Sampling road food would be more exciting and (mostly) healthier than identical golden arches along the way. Simply reading the menu in some places would be an adventure! La Petite has convinced me to try and enjoy sushi, at long last, but Da Boyz still resist. She’d be more of an adventurous sort with the road foods, too.
Vehicle choice is a challenge. It’ll have to be something that can take heat, both humid and dry, to make a trip like this. Both of our current vehicles are elderly; neither will be suitable for a long trip. A rental rather than a new purchase would allow us to leave the car or minivan in California and catch the train home. We thoroughly enjoyed traveling on the Empire Builder from Wisconsin west to Washington; I am certain that the trip by rail would be fascinating and comfortable, too.
As for chronicling the trip, the blog is a good place to start. Daily like my other vacation journals or by topic, such as the Coffee Diary from another travel? Either would be effective.
Cost is an object. If this trip happens at all, it won’t be soon. Replacing the shower plumbing and fixing the upstairs bathroom are higher priorities. But someday, we’ll look for sponsors or grants or lottery winnings (just kidding, I don’t buy tickets), and we’ll hit the road — the Mother Road.
>Amigo enjoys road trips. He can’t see the changing scenery or play the alphabet game on billboards, but he enjoys the travel nevertheless.
We’ve talked in an abstract way about taking a Route 66 vacation some summer. “Why?” you might ask. “Why Not?” we reply.
The highway itself has been largely replaced by interstates, but some of the blue highways and small towns near the old Mother Road still exist. It’s the towns, the scenery, the ambiance, the history that attract us.
Family trips usually revolve around a purpose or an ulterior motive. Our visit to Nova Scotia was aimed at following Chuck’s family history, filling in more of his research on the Lockeport branch of his family tree. Getting there by way of the Cat Ferry was a bonus. Amigo and I were along for the ride, taking our bikes around town and walking on the beach while Chuck waded through the archives of the historical societies.
Last July’s trip was a celebration of our 25th wedding anniversary. We chose the destination (Seattle) and method of travel (Amtrak Empire Builder) for fun this time, but also to include life interests. Chuck is a train lover; I’m a coffee addict and a green machine. Amtrak to Pike Place Market? The Perfect Couple.
So why Route 66? Americana. History. People.
We met some wonderful and unique people on the Empire Builder.
Interstate highways are designed to get people where they’re going quickly, directly, with as few stops as possible. The stops on a back road would be more like our Funday Friday adventures when Amigo and I choose a local restaurant or diner for lunch. Diners. Local family restaurants. We run into people we know and people we don’t, but we always enjoy the encounters – and the foods. On a long trip, we’d rather sample local and regional fare when it’s available, rather than the omnipresent McDrive-Thru.
For now, it’s not a plan. It’s more of a vague “maybe someday” kind of thought. I think we’ll get our kicks on Route 66, someday, eventually. Of course, I’ll blog the experience if and when it happens.
>Along the road and along the track, Chuck (Husband) and I pointed our cameras in different directions. We did this not just because he sat in the forward-facing seat and I faced the back in our little roomette, but because we look out on the world in different ways.
Chuck took a picture of this rare caboose still in use and hooked up to a freight train. I took a picture of the caboose that was turned into a cottage.
>There’s more than fish at Pike Place Market in Seattle! There is coffee, of course. I sampled my share of the refreshing beverages. And as we wandered the booths of produce, I kept saying, “Honey, can we move here? I want to live here.” Husband (a.k.a. Chuck) was kind as he reminded me that no, we had to go home.
But meanwhile, behind the big sign….
Sometimes, the hanging bundles need no written description. They sold themselves.
>Last week I showed you our in-house snack on the rooftop deck at our hotel. That was just the warm-up for Iron Chef Chuck, the Husband re-named due to cool shoes. In true Iron Chef form, he decided our last meal on the trip should be a rooftop dinner with the entire menu found in and near the Public Market. The challenge: we had no way to cook. With no microwave and very little room in the fridge (due to crowding from overpriced minibar), we had to be creative in our preparations. With all that in mind, we hit the market.
We bought cheese at a creamery that would have been right at home in Wisconsin. They were making cheese all day; folks stopped to watch through full length windows. The cheese we bought was very fresh and delicious.
Next, the vegetable market. He picked out just enough mixed lettuces for a salad, and then he added carrots. Two small carrots. We found vinegar and oil for dressing at a tiny shop and added those to my tote bag with the bread from the bakery next door.
He borrowed dishes from the hotel (they were happy to oblige), prepped the whole meal on the floor of the hotel room, and then we set up on the rooftop deck. The weather was perfect, the mountains were glowing from the sunset, and Iron Chef Chuck (he of the cool shoes) earned perfect scores for presentation.
>Last year I chronicled my vacation in a journal of daily coffee consumption. I know some of you must be wondering, “Daisy! You went to Seattle, the birthplace of Starbucks! Did you not partake of the local fare? The local drinks? The coffee, of course!!”
Yes.
Yes, I did. In fact, I documented a few in pictures. I picked up a Big Train Choco Chip Latte from this place, conveniently located across the tracks from the first Amtrak station. It was delicious: a good omen for starting the trip.
On the train I had the option of picking up a plain cup of coffee any time I wished; Jose, the car attendant, kept the pot fresh all the time.
I brought my daily pick-me-up into the roomette with me, set it in the cupholder beside my seat, and read the morning paper (local to whichever stop we’d made last).
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There it is, hanging on the wall beside Husband’s seat where I could reach it whenever I needed it. The camera moved into my purse for the duration of the trip, but the rest was just right in the duffel.
>I was reading Animal, Vegetable, Miracle in our Seattle hotel room and I thought about how difficult it was at times to remain true to a locavore philosophy. We were fortunate to be near a fantastic source for both tourists and locals: Seattle’s Pike Place Public Market.
At lunch on our first full day, I sat down to a sandwich with locally made sausage and potato salad on the side. Husband ordered a local beer and picked up a halibut sandwich and coleslaw. The coleslaw surprised him. Rather than the creamy or the tart styles we get in the Midwest, it was made with red cabbage and had a delicious sweet-tart tang.
We continued to focus mainly on local specialties. We looked for fish of all kinds, locally made baked goods, and (you know me well) coffee. We were in Seattle, people, home of Starbucks and more!
One night Husband asked the waitress where he could buy the unique raspberry lambic beer he’d had with his meal. It wasn’t one of the restaurant’s own brews, so she directed us to a store a few blocks away. On the walk there we decided to pick up supplies for an evening snack on the hotel deck. We gathered cheese, salami, crackers and the fruity brew, and then brought out a container of fresh cherries we’d picked up at the Public Market earlier in the day. It was a perfect evening treat. The sky was clear, the sun going down behind the Olympic Mountains, and Mt. Ranier was making an appearance in the distant sky.
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Top: Husband outside during a train stop
