Thursday, August 1:
This is going to be one loooong day -- but I'll take it. One of my work colleagues switched shifts with me today and tomorrow so he's able to avoid a very early alarm clock and I'm able to start my vacation seven hours earlier tomorrow. A win-win. But there are just 10 hours between leaving last night and arriving at work today. Take away about two for the commute and there's just enough time to sleep. So if you'll excuse me...
Friday, August 2:
Annnd, we're off! This is, assuming all goes well, going to be the longest drive I've ever undertaken. But it's not a long driving day to start with as I'll check out the Tigers game against the White Sox this evening. Tomorrow though, I plan to be in Minneapolis in time for the Twins and Astros. From there, I'll follow the sun and see where it takes me. I'm aiming for Vancouver but if I find a spot I fall in love with along the way and decide to hang there for awhile, so be it. The best road trip I ever took was one a few years ago when I had no idea where I'd end up when I started. I'm taking the same approach to this one.
Saturday, August 3:
MICHIGAN CITY, IN -- Detroit is broke. Bankrupt. And as a Windsor native, this makes me sad, indeed. Because there's a spirit to this city, a never-say-die attitude that "tomorrow is going to be better." Yet, fans of Motown's sports teams whine like there's no tomorrow, I guess because there's not a lot to cheer about in this battered, broken burg. So when it comes to the Tigers, Red Wings, Lions and Pistons, people live and die with them. Last night, the Tigers won a dandy pitching duel but the crowd was subdued, almost as if they were expecting things to fall apart. The city is falling apart -- even the iconic red ball light atop the Penobscot Building no longer flashes -- but there's nothing wrong with the ballclub.
Sunday, August 4:
ST. CLOUD, MN -- It's the epitome of cool. I'm talking about the parking garage across the street from Target Field in Minneapolis, the downtown gem the Minnesota Twins call home. First of all, there's a walkway from the upper levels to the ballpark itself, and they scan your ticket right there. But the best is when you leave. One of the exits is an on-ramp to the expressway! You drive out of the building, hit the accelerator and immediately leave the Twin Cities behind, if you so desire. (If you decide to stay around, all the better because there's lots to see and do in Minneapolis and St. Paul -- but not for me on this trip). This was my second visit to Target Field and the more I see of it, the more it becomes one of my favourite ballparks. It's certainly in my top five.
Monday, August 5:
DICKINSON, ND -- The placeline of this tiny but charming town in the rolling hills of North Dakota indicates that I passed on driving through the Canadian prairies to the west coast. I didn't make up my mind until I stopped for lunch in Fargo and was presented with two choices -- north on I-29 to Winnipeg or west on I-94 to Bismarck. It was cool in Fargo and I decided I didn't want to be any cooler. So I stayed straight on I-94.
North Dakota is a pleasant state but wow, it's expensive! Hotels are enjoying a windfall of workers coming in from other states to work in the oil industry, so rooms are at a premium and are priced accordingly. On the other hand, gas prices are far lower than in Canada so it balances out.
Tuesday, August 6:
ST. REGIS, MT -- There's a motel here and a gas station and precious little else but that's fine. I arrived just as I was getting tired of driving. Perfect timing.
A fellow could get used to the natural beauty of Montana. Taking this route to the west turned out to be the right call. Perfect weather and great scenery. And even some imaginative names. One road off the expressway was named "Home On The Range Dr." Another was called "Bad Route Rd." Tempting, but I didn't take it.
Wednesday, August 7:
SEATTLE -- With a pitching match-up of Josh Johnson versus Felix Hernandez, you knew it was going to be a blowout. Sho 'nuff. But not the one anyone expected. Jose Reyes hit the first pitch of the game for a home run, Colby Rasmus climbed the wall to bring a home run ball back into the park, Johnson pitched five shutout innings and Toronto beat Seattle 7-2. That's the joy of baseball -- there are no sure things. Well, except that the only other game I've seen at Safeco Field was nine years ago, when the Orioles battered Freddy Garcia and the Mariners by the same score of 7-2. Garcia's number? 34. Same as King Felix. I guess I should have known.
One thing that was pretty cool and surely depressing for the Mariners: With the amazing number of Blue Jays fans making their way down from British Columbia, it sounded like a Toronto home game. They completely drowned out the Seattle faithful, who had almost nothing to cheer about.
This city is a delight, even in December rain. When it's warm with wall-to-wall sunshine, it's one of the best walking cities I've ever been in. I can't get here enough.
Friday, August 9:
MODESTO, CA -- This is the "home" of American Graffiti. Not the city it was filmed in (that was Petaluma) but the city it was based upon -- a California desert town where nothing much ever happens but one where adventure is just around the corner (in this day and age, that's San Francisco, an hour-plus drive away).
I'm delighted the Pittsburgh Pirates show no signs of hitting a second-half tailspin this year. They have the best record in baseball and the coolest phrase to go with it. Satellite radio is my constant companion on the road and when the Pirates do something amazing (like yesterday's come-from-behind, walk-off win) announcer Steve Blass belts out "sweet cheese on a stick!" First time I heard it, I almost drove off the road in laughter!
Saturday, August 10:
CHULA VISTA, CA -- When I got to Seattle, I couldn't drive any further west. Now, I can go no further south (unless I drive into Mexico). So, I'll start meandering back.
The picture of the week may be delayed. My little portable hard drive is not working. Hopefully, it's just a faulty cable or else I've lost plenty of pictures.
Monday, August 12:
PHOENIX -- Sometimes you get lucky. My hard drive kicked in one final time Saturday night, allowing me to back up all of the new material onto the smallish drive on my laptop. Here in Phoenix, the portable drive has stopped working again but that's OK. I won't lose any material.
This town sure holds the heat well. My car's outdoor temperature reading was 43 Celsius when I arrived yesterday. That's 109 Fahrenheit. The desert heat creates a dilemma. On one hand you want to spend the day in the motel pool. On the other, spending any time exposed to the summer sun here is dangerous. So, the pool is reserved for late afternoon, early evening when the sun's rays are not as severe. To that end, we're sure the Chase Field roof will be closed tomorrow night for the Orioles-Diamondbacks game. The last time I attended a summer game here, I innocently asked the person seated next to me if they would be opening the roof on the cloudless, albeit hot evening. He replied, "Only if you want to see a riot."
Tuesday, August 13:
PHOENIX -- There are a number of things I love about Phoenix. The main one is that it has no rush hour to speak of. Oh, the locals talk about a rush hour but it's nothing compared to Toronto, or pretty much any other major North American metro area for that matter. It took me about 10 minutes to drive to the downtown ballpark from my airport area hotel. And I was back in my room within half an hour of Adam Eaton's walk-off homer in the bottom of the ninth. Incredible.
Wednesday, August 14:
TUCSON -- To quote the great Yog, "it gets late early here." Arizona doesn't recognize Daylight Saving Time, so in the summer, it stays on the same time as the west coast. Yesterday, the sun had disappeared behind the mountains by 7 p.m. and it was almost completely dark by eight.
Took a side trip to Tombstone yesterday and was surprised by how compact it is. The O.K. Corral, where the Earps gunned down the Clantons in 1881 is about a block and a half from the restored main street. Boot Hill is just a few blocks away on the north side of town. And walking down the main street, I felt almost naked without a big iron on my hip.
I got nabbed by a speed trap yesterday in a small town driving back to Tucson from Tombstone. And "trap" is exactly what it was. I consider myself a safety-conscious driver but I was caught speeding in a school zone (no kids were around) where the speed limit drops in one block from 35 to 15 miles per hour. No advance warning. I hit the brakes when I saw the sign but not quickly enough for the local sheriff who also nailed the car in from of me and I'm sure countless others. I'm all for justice and for admitting when I screw up but this was nothing more than a money grab.
Had dinner at a funky Tucson steakhouse called "Daisy Mae's." There are hundreds and hundreds of dollar bills stapled on the walls, with a huge assortment of customer messages plastered on the bills in magic marker. Everything from "Red Sox Nation" to "San Jose Sharks" (!) to "Bonnie Loves Dick." There were "Happy Birthdays" and "Merry Christmases" and Happy Easters." Someone gave George Washington a red wig while someone else gave him red glasses and a dog's nose, making him look for all the world like Peabody from the Rocky & Bullwinkle cartoons. And one adolescent genius turned his dollar bill over and added a "B" before and an "R" after the word "one." But the best part of the place? The food. Melt-in-your-mouth steak and baked potato and an apple pie (look away, Doc) loaded --and I mean loaded -- with cinnamon filling. It all cured the sour taste in my mouth from the speeding ticket.
Friday, August 16:
LAS VEGAS -- Here's another town that holds the heat well. And I'm usually fine with that. But while leaving Phoenix yesterday, my car's air conditioning conked out. Sadly, there was no shortage of Freon, but the compressor is not working. That's something that will have to be fixed when I get home. In the meantime, I'll be driving with the windows down in the extreme heat, just as they did a few generations ago. I never complain about the heat because I hate winter so much. But with temperatures in the low 40s Celsius (in the 100s Fahrenheit), it's a challenge!
I missed the middle game of the Baltimore-Arizona series but all three ended up as walk-off wins for the Diamondbacks. Must have been a long flight home for the O's, especially closer Jim Johnson, who blew ninth-inning save opportunities in the final two games and now has nine (!) blown saves for the year. Last year, he was a big reason why Baltimore reached the post-season. Today, (of course), there's a "Jim Johnson Sucks" forum on the internet.
Saturday, August 17:
LAS VEGAS -- I'm not sure how I feel about baseball moving from the 19th century to the 21st in one fell swoop, introducing expanded instant replay next year to cover everything but balls and strikes. On one hand, I applaud the efforts to "get it right." On the other, most games I attend these days extend beyond three hours. To add a potential six manager challenges to the mix isn't a way to speed things up. What's to stop a skipper from using a challenge on an obvious play in the late innings to give a suddenly active reliever more time to warm up in the bullpen? And Blue Jays' announcer Jack Morris wonders if it gives the umps an excuse not to bear down, knowing that replay would overturn a bad call anyway. Lots to consider.
It's that time of year again. Manchester United opened defence of its record 20th league title with a 4-1 win at Swansea. A good start under new boss David Moyes.
Sunday, August 18:
LAS VEGAS -- Every time I visit this monument to opulence, more old hotel-casinos are being torn down and new ones are being erected. The Harmon was to have been the latest in glitz and glamour. But major structural defects were discovered when construction on the building reached 26 floors. It was never completed and was razed earlier this year. Oops!
Sign of the times. The off-strip Liberace Museum is no more. Too many generations have passed. It joins the Sahara, the Sands, the Dunes, the New Frontier, the Hacienda and the Stardust (along many others) as iconic Vegas staples that now live only in memory.
Monday, August 19:
NEPHI, UT -- Mother Nature can be cruel sometimes. Right behind the pool at this small town's motel is unlimited miles of wilderness. I was lounging by that pool yesterday evening when I spotted a female cat nursing her five tiny kittens. "Cute," I thought, and went back to my book. A little while later, I heard cries of very loud meows, and spotted two of the kittens in the pool. One was swimming fine, the other was not and I quickly scooped them up and out of danger. Mom was in the parking lot and it was obvious she wanted nothing to do with them. A gent who was sitting by the hot tub managed to reunite them at the edge of the parking lot and they all disappeared into the tall grass. I don't know how this story ends but my optimism isn't high.
Tuesday, August 20:
GRAND JUNCTION, CO -- Plans to visit the Grand Canyon got scuttled on this road trip because of the Scorepics-mobile's lack of air conditioning. But the scenery I drove through yesterday from Provo to Price, Utah was nothing short of breathtaking. It was a challenge staying focused on the road in front of me. Thankfully, there was a 10-minute stop just south of Bear Canyon Road along US-6 as it was down to one lane for construction. Out came the camera for some snaps of the hills and mountains.
BYU and Utah may lose at home in football from time to time but their fans can take solace in the fact they are watching games in two of most gorgeous settings in college football. Interesting that in both Lavell Edwards Stadium and Rice-Eccles Stadium, the signs read "portals" not "gates." I've never seen that before.
I spent much of Sunday and yesterday in Utah. And the one major chat I had with a fellow at the hot tub the other night involved spirituality. Nothing heavy, it was just a major part of his life and I rather enjoyed his take and the overall palaver. I don't believe he was Mormon but he was certainly a believer in The Bible and we tended to agree on most of what we discussed. A stimulating conversation.
I'm excited about tonight. More than 22 years ago, in my early days at The Canadian Press, I often killed some time in a bookstore on my way from Union Station to the office. One time, I picked up a nondescript paperback from an author named Stephen White, who wrote what he thought would be a one-off novel about a clinical psychologist and his misadventures. I was moved by the attention to detail, especially regarding the characters he moulded. Obviously, I was not alone because there was a great clamour for sequels -- and Dr. White's (yes, he was a clinical psychologist himself) Alan Gregory series was born. It's been a great ride over the past two decades and today, he's out with his 20th and final book of the series. The best part? He's staging a book signing this evening in Boulder (where much of the series takes place) and I have a ticket for the event. Dr. White is far and away my favourite author and I'll miss fthe series dearly.
Thursday, August 22:
CONCORDIA, MO -- What a treat it was to meet Stephen White the other night. A solid crowd came out to see his initial book-signing for the final entry in his Alan Gregory series. The good doctor is a marvelous gentleman, who shared some fascinating stories about his writing style. For instance, unlike some authors, he makes it up as he goes along, saying that he's as amazed as his readers at some of the misadventures his characters get themselves involved in. A sharp, witty and yet self-depreciating man, he had us all enthralled. It was a night I won't forget.
The sign on the highway read, "See the world's largest Czech egg!" Now, two things came immediately to mind. One, if I was born in the Czech Republic, I'd be a little miffed at the suggestion that Czechs came from eggs. And two, wouldn't the largest Czech egg be located somewhere in the Czech Republic? That sign was spotted just a couple of miles past another one that read, "Visit the Garden of Eden!" Now who knew the Garden of Eden was in Kansas? I mean, who knew?
Here's something I didn't know. Boot Hill is the name of numerous cemeteries from the days of the Old West, including the one I recently referenced in Tombstone, Arizona. But the original Boot Hill was in Dodge City, Kansas.
I owe a load of thanks to the staff at the TA truck stop just east of Golden, Colorado. On Tuesday, in a hurry to visit the restroom, I quickly darted from the car to the store after hours of non-stop driving. Now, unless I give my legs a little exercise to get the blood pumping, situations like these can leave me with a temporary bout of low blood pressure. I got dizzy and down I went, face first, leaving me with a rather nasty cut above my left eye. Nothing serious but I was a mess until the bleeding got under control. I have to remember I'm not 20 years old anymore.
It's rare I drive right past a ballpark that's about to host a game but much as I love Kauffman Stadium, I did that last night as I drove through Kansas City at rush hour. I almost stopped but I've seen lots of baseball on this trip and I'm keen to get home so I drove for another half an hour and opted for a good night's sleep, something I passed on Tuesday as I left Boulder after Dr. White's autograph session. That night, I drove about three hours through the high plains of Colorado and Kansas.
Friday, August 23:
BENTON HARBOR, MI -- What is it about driving in Indiana that turns people into Indy 500 wannabees? I was doing 70 miles per hour in a 55 zone on I-94 around the south horn of Lake Michigan, only because going any slower would have created a traffic jam on the busy three-lane roadway. And yet, three cars came out of nowhere, weaving in and out of lanes and blowing by all of us as if we were standing still. A few miles later, an 18-wheeler (!) did the same thing! A far cry from the genteel driving through states like North Dakota and Montana.
Back in the Eastern time zone and almost home. What a trip!
Saturday, August 24:
Hard to believe I managed such a trip in a three-week period. Toronto to Seattle, to San Diego and back through Phoenix, Las Vegas, Salt Lake City and Denver. Mostly good, except for a couple of spills and that blasted traffic ticket in Arizona. But all the rest was great -- from the fantastic scenery to the great games I saw to the wonderful people I met, including my favourite author. The longest trip I've ever undertaken by car and the best! Now that I'm back, I'm keen to dig in and enjoy some of Nick's peerless coffee and french toast with The Bride today.
Sunday, August 25:
My signed copy of "Compound Fractures" reads: "To Chris. Twenty! The End. Stephen White" And last night, I finished the 20th and final book in the Alan Gregory series. A gem, just like the others. And while he insists the series is complete, there are still at least a couple of loose ends remaining should he ever get the urge to revisit the characters sometime in the future for a 21st novel. I'm sure his fans will never stop clamouring for more.
With The Bride's alma mater returning to football in 2013, it means a longer regular season for the Ontario conference in university ball this season. Her Carleton Ravens are off this weekend but visit my Western Mustangs on Labour Day night. Western, in the meantime, gets started today in Toronto. Last year was something of an off-year for the 'Stangs and this season is a question mark. About the only sure thing is that they'll be competitive. They always are.
Thursday, August 29:
I won’t see any of it because I’m at work with limited television options but that’s OK. College football (which started in Canada last weekend) gets started in the United States today. The NFL wraps up the pre-season this evening with every team in action and the regular season kicks off a week from this evening. There are plenty of sports I love but none more than football. And from now until the Super Bowl in February, I’ll be enthralled!
Saturday, August 31:
Labour Day weekend. No, not officially the end of summer but emotionally, it sure is. I guess many of us never forget the days of our childhood when the day after Labour Day meant the first day of school. So even though my school days are decades behind me, it still feels like fall has arrived the second this holiday weekend comes to an end. But the sports fan in me loves the days ahead. Baseball's pennant races and playoffs. The start of college football and the NFL regular season. English Premier League soccer has already resumed. Hockey training camps, although I'm less and less of a hockey fan as the years go by (until the playoffs, when my interest peaks). As for fall itself, it's a beautiful season and just one thing keeps it from being my favourite -- I know what follows it and I hate winter more with each passing year.
