Conclusion

We’ve learned a lot on this adventure. We’ve seen so many things that we didn’t know were possible in this country. This nation, its history, its people, its geology, its economy, its societies, its ideas, its WEATHER are all fascinating! Amazing. The whole country is not just like Durham. It is not just like the South. It is not just like the east coast.

We saw how economies try to destroy people in Lubbock and Detroit. We saw how people pull themselves up by their bootstraps in Detroit. We saw how people lived 1,000 years ago in Arizona. We saw the deserts of the Southwest and the beautiful fields of the Great Plains. We saw the Grand Tetons and the Alleghenies. We saw LA recovering from the loss of a controversial superstar. We saw people relax and have fun at the Cody Rodeo in Wyoming and Beale Street in Memphis. We saw laser shows in Atlanta and the Black Hills of South Dakota, one honoring the South and the other honoring Native Americans. We saw buffalo and bears, and we saw burned trucks on the shoulders of highways. We touched the cool waters of the Pacific and the warm waters of the Atlantic.

We stayed in 130-year-old row houses, 70-year-old apartments, 30-year-old motels, and an 8- year-old Toyota. We met tourists from all over the country and the world. We had people offer to take our pictures, and we took other people’s pictures. We saw ancient mesas and cliff dwellings in Arizona and amazing feats of modern architecture at Fallingwater and the Ledge at Sears Tower. We saw homeless people in LA, San Francisco, Chicago, and Atlanta.

We learned how calming a beautiful scene can be. We stopped in the middle of the desert to hear absolute silence. We heard true echoes in the Grand Canyon. We listened to wild life at night in Montana. We heard the trains driving immediately behind our hotel in Arizona in the middle of the night. We felt the rains of the Grand Canyon and Yellowstone. We looked into the San Francisco Bay from the Golden Gate Bridge, and we looked into the face of the moon from Yellowstone. We drove through low elevations and extremely high elevations. We saw a crater formed by a meteor and canyons formed by ancient rivers. We saw old-ass cars everywhere we went.

We saw the locations of the murders of Wild Bill Hickok and Martin Luther King, Jr. We learned about the lives of Buddy Holly and Andy Warhol. We saw the graves of Buddy Holly, Elvis Presley, Calamity Jane, and Wild Bill Hickok.

And, my God, we ate every thing we could find at every awesome restaurant on our route. We had Mexican food all over the country, Thai food in SF, Korean food in LA, BBQ in Memphis, pizza in Chicago, and steak salad in Pittsburgh.

We learned that most Americans are terrible spellers and that they make hysterical signs. At nearly every city where we stopped, I hit my head on the door frame of the car at least once. I learned about the importance of organization in my life. At every camping stop, we had to pack up all of our stuff to put it all in the front seat so we could sleep in the back of the van. Everything had to be in the right, most convenient place at all times. I cultivated new habits: after I brushed my teeth, I packed my toothbrush again. We've been home a week now, and the house is quite tidy. I challenge you to drop by our tidy home without calling. I hope I can keep this up after school starts again.

We drove 8,440 miles through half of the states of our Union in six weeks. We spent time with our relatives around the country. We bought postcards everywhere we went: one to keep and a couple to send. We spent time with friends and spent time alone together. We’re still in love and closer than ever. There’s no one in the world I would have rather spent this time with than Dave.

And so, my friends, our long trip of a lifetime is finally over. Thus, the Cantwell Roadtrip blog has come to an end. Thanks for reading and following along in our journey across the US. We’ve been given an amazing opportunity here. Special thanks go to Dave’s folks for helping to make this trip possible for us. Thanks also go out to Jane and Michael Stern for writing amazing books that guided us to the best food in the country. Thanks also to our friends for their amazing recommendations and well-noted advice about everything from camping gear to restaurants. We love you all and are grateful for all you do for us. Please feel free to come over for the slide show anytime.

Addendum: Day 44: Savannah

Sunday, July 26, was the last day. The real last day. After this day, we’d be at home. For good. Six weeks (with a three-day layover at home) was coming to an end. Our first stop was in Georgia (Atlanta), and our last stop was in Georgia. We left Hilton Head Island, and all four of us headed for Savannah. I’d never been there, and Dave hadn’t been there since he was a little kid. Patrick had picked out two restaurants that we thought we could go to for lunch, but both were closed, so we drove downtown and parked near this Savannah College of Art and Design theater.


When I spotted this old tile work on the ground outside a store that was once a pawn shop, I realized that I was never able to pay up on my agreement with Dave to let him go into one pawn shop on our trip. So sad. Moving along.


The four of us walked about for a little while and came upon this gorgeous house called the Davenport House.


The Davenport House was built in 1820 and has a ghost cat. That’s right. A ghost cat. Dave and I decided not to take the tour, so we didn’t get to hear more about it.


As always, we found the old-ass cars in the neighborhood. These were in front of the Savannah police station.



I immediately fell in love with the old houses in the city.










We came upon the Firefly Café, where we had Sunday brunch. It was terrific. I had the Southwestern omelette, and Dave had the Italian sausage omelette. Dave was really torn about whether or not to get the pancakes, but we were both pleasantly surprised when our meals came with a little pancake that they called a “hoecake.”

In the park outside the Firefly was this sign commemorating the composition of my favorite song of all time.


The gent who wrote the song was music director at this church.


After lunch, we said “goodbye” to Jen and Patrick and continued to explore the city on our own. We passed the lovely Cathedral of St. John the Baptist,



Flannery O’Connor’s childhood home,



And the elegant Savannah Cotton Exchange.


We drove to the riverfront area as well and found ourselves on a painfully bumpy cobblestone road.




I believe this wall and building were near the Riverfront, but I’m having trouble finding information about it. Any ideas what this is? Please let me know.


In order to leave town, we passed the awesome Talmadge Memorial Bridge, built in 1990, which, I have read, is stunning at night.


On our way out of town, we also passed the Great Dane Trailer Company with this awesome statue in the front yard.



We drove straight home from Savannah and arrived around 11 pm, I think. It was great to come home to a clean house again and to be home for good this time.

Addendum: Day 43: Hilton Head Island

Saturday, July 25 was our last full day at Hilton Head, so we tried to really enjoy it as much as we could. We spent the early afternoon at the beach but then headed in to another pool on the grounds. This pool had a little area called the Morning Star Fountain, which was just a part of the pool deck that had about 2 dozen orchestrated fountains of water for kids and adults to play in.


The pool itself had a series of jets in a line that created a little rush of water that reminded Dave and me of the hot springs at Yellowstone.


After enjoying the pool, we headed to the immense hot tub beside the pool. The hot tub was big enough to seat about 18 people comfortably. It was fabulous. You could actually swim in it.

After our pool fun, we headed over to the ping pong tables. There was a large plastic storage bin filled with paddles and balls, so we had plenty of fun, at one point even trying to play doubles table tennis with the actual rules that no team member could hit the ball twice in a row. That made for a lot of confusion and tripping over each other, so we gave that up quickly.



While we were playing, a 7-year-old girl, Chelsea (she says some people call her Kelsea, so I called her Chelseakelsea ), joined us.


I played her for a while because everyone else found her presence irritating. She told me she has a boyfriend who is 8, but he has 20 girlfriends. Jen was horrified that, even at 7, Chelseakelsea was ok with this. After about 10 minutes, I had to go to the bathroom, and while I was gone, the game quickly dispersed.

At about 5:30, we headed back over the boardwalk to our building. Dave paused to take some pictures of the marshes, which were really quite lovely.



vThis is the view of the Atlantic from our second-floor room. It was really nice to sit out there in the evening and listen to the ocean. So dreamy. It was hard to process that I had touched the Pacific Ocean just three weeks before. It seemed like an eternity ago.


Here is the boardwalk we crossed to get the pool and then the beach.


For dinner, I found a restaurant called the Boathouse II that looked delightful. Luckily, this time, my research paid off. This place was awesome.


We started off with different cocktails. I had a frou-frou drink that was a combination between a margarita and a pina colada. Patrick had something fruity. Jen had some kid of apple martini. Dave had a pina colada-type drink that he thinks was made with amaretto. Delicious!


We had the delicious blue cheese risotto fritters to start. For dinner, Patrick and I both had the summer vegetable gnocchi. Dave had garlic-marinated London broil, and Jen had the garlic shrimp with penne. We were all very happy with our dishes. I scored big time on this dinner choice.

As expected, the restaurant had a fabulous nautical theme.


It included a huge pirate statue outside. Beneath the statue, a guy was playing Jimmy Buffett songs on his guitar for the patio crowd. We had mocked the patio people from our table inside because we knew that they couldn’t possibly be enjoying their dinners in the sticky heat outside. Suckers. As we were leaving, I sneaked onto the patio to get some snaps of the singer.


While we were out there, we realized that there were large platters of desserts on side tables. This was clearly some kind of reception or private party. Dave wanted to steal cake since no one seemed to be eating it. I was incredibly tempted, but I’m 35 and I own a home; stealing cake isn’t in the cards for me.

The restaurant was next to a marina, so we ventured out on the pier for a few minutes. On the way back, we passed a little building with this sign on it.



A cobia is a fish. I’m not sure what these fisherpersons need cobia “carcusses” for, but I’ll be it’s something awesome.

After our delicious dinner, it was back home for some relaxing and then bed. We would have to be out of the resort by 10 am, so we had to be in bed at a reasonable time.

Addendum: Day 42: Hilton Head Island

We spent Friday, July 24, 2009, just goofing off. Dave and I started off in the early afternoon by heading down to the beach, which was wonderful. To get to the beach, we walked down a long boadwalk that crossed over the marshes that separated the Resort from the pool and ocean. The beach was one of the widest I’d ever seen with very fine, hard sand that you could ride your bike on, though we didn’t. Being fair skinned, I was willing to rent an umbrella and chairs on the beach. It was dreamy. The wind was blowing, the sun was shining—for a little while, at least, and I was in seventh heaven.

Jen’s family was also at the resort, and they had rented out a cabana. The cabanas were lined up one beside the other by the pool closest to the ocean, and Jen’s folks had rented the last cabana on the end. The cabanas are big private tents by the pool, and each one has different furniture in it. Theirs had two couches and a couple of lawn chairs. After her family went back up to their place, Dave and I joined Patrick and Jen in the cabana for cocktails...




...and a dip in the pool.


Dave spent about 10 minutes enjoying the fan/water sprayer.

It started to rain lightly at one point, so we were able to close the flaps of the cabana and zip them closed.


Jen’s family was having a little dinner get-together that evening, so Dave and I entertained ourselves. Though I spent about an hour and a half researching restaurants on the island, we somehow still ended up at a brass rail restaurant. Boo. It was in a strange strip mall complex that was so heavily populated with families that you would think it was the boardwalk at Ocean City. Most of the stores were gift/souvenir stores and kite shops and the like. There was a guy out in one of the courtyards with a guitar and a PA playing Bon Jovi’s “Wanted Dead or Alive” to a huge crowd of middle-aged parents. I was digging it, but Dave wasn’t, so we had to keep moving. While we were on the move, we spotted this store with a super creepy name:


After wandering around a bit, we drove around the island only to discover that it is mile after mile of resorts. There’s no downtown area at all. I was a little disappointed by that, but I was still happy to hang out in the resort.

Addendum: Day 41: South of the Border and Hilton Head

On July 23, we decided to extend our road trip a little bit. Yes, we had been home for three days, but never mind that. We got in the car and headed south to Hilton Head Island, SC, where we would spend the weekend with our friends from Atlanta, Patrick and Jen. We started the trip the same way we ended it.

On the way from Durham to Hilton Head, we came upon South of the Border, in Dillon, SC, and just HAD to stop. I had never been there and was curious about it. I’d seen the awful day-glo bumper stickers growing up but never had a real understanding of what it was. Frankly, I’m not sure I entirely understand it now. Technically, I suppose it is what one would call a “roadside attraction” featuring themed restaurants, souvenir shops, games, and rides.


The first thing one must understand is how culturally offensive this place is. South of the Border revolves around “Pedro,” a poncho-wearing, sombrero-topped, mustachioed Mexican character for whom everything in the complex is named. Billboards line Interstate 95 up and down the coast boasting the available fun at South of the Border with such quips as “You Never Sausage a Place! (You’re always a wiener at Pedro’s)” and “Pedro's Weather Forecast: Chili today, hot tamale!” Truly groan-worthy. They have gotten rid of the signs that existed when I was a kid that usually began with “Pedro seez” followed by a campy quote written phonetically with a Spanish accent. Ugh.




We arrived there around 4 pm on a hot July Thursday, and the place was more or less deserted. The amusement rides were shut down; the shops were open but there was hardly a car in the parking lot.




South of the Border is mostly populated with these weird statues of animals.



I’m not clear on what all of the apes are all about, I’m just happy they’re there.





The shops are filled with souvenirs that make very little sense.






Dave was willing to put on a poncho and hat for this one.


We ate at the Sombrero Restaurant, which was the original beer stand opened by SotB’s owner in 1950. We had a thoroughly unremarkable, if not disappointing, lunch. The burrito was a Patio burrito from the frozen-food section of the local Food Lion. The taco was in a stale Old El Paso taco shell. The chips were Tostitos. The salsa was picante sauce from the grocery store. The enchilada was fine, as were the beans. Sad, really, but not surprising. When I expressed my disappointment, Dave asked what I had been expecting. I guess I should have expected what I got.


This ad was on our table. Note the times the restaurant is open.


We found this strange store there as well.


Pedro’s Africa Shop was actually filled with nice wooden figurines and sculptures, not the tacky souvenirs in every other building in the area.

This was my favorite sign of the day since it was so poorly laid out.


How many people try to bring their cats into stores with them? Apparently, enough to warrant a sign.

I finally got fed up with the shtick and had to get out of there. I’d had my fill of South of the Border. We got back in the car and headed to Hilton Head, which is the absolute opposite of South of the Border. We arrived at the Marriott Surf Watch resort where Patrick and Jen were waiting for us. Hooray!

Patrick and Jen had agreed to sit in on a 90-minute timeshare pitch in return for getting this great timeshare for $100/night. It was a two bedroom, two full bath apartment with full kitchen, dining room, family room, and patio overlooking the ocean. The cupboards were full of dishes, cups, glasses, and cookware, so you could cook there, but then there was maid service as well. It was very confusing and awesome.


The resort had three pools, a couple of gigantic hot tubs, and a beach bar. More on that tomorrow. In general, this place was fabulous and totally decadent.

Day 37: Falling Water

On Sunday, July 19, 2009, Dave and I were ready to come home...for a while at least. After a delicious chard frittata that Breakfast Master Will built for us, we packed up our things, said goodbye to our Pittsburgh hosts,



And headed south.

We made a slight deviation from our route in order to hit Frank Lloyd Wright’s piece de resistance Fallingwater which lies in western Pennsylvania.







Wright designed and built Fallingwater from 1936-1939 for the Kaufmann family as their mountain vacation home away from Pittsburgh where they owned a successful department store. The house sits atop a 30’ waterfall on Bear Run. Wright’s idea was to make the house blend in seamlessly with the surrounding nature.

Its design was intended to mimic the flow of water over the falls as well as the stone that creates the falls.


We took a great tour of the house in which our guide explained a great deal about the architecture and theories involved. In many places, the house beams and even walls are built directly into the rock of the mountain.


As a result, there are plenty of hidden GPS markers in the house to make sure that the rocks are not shifting significantly.

Our terrific tour guide told us that during the building process, there were times when the water from the rain and melting snow would come through the rocks of the house. Instead of blocking it up and resisting it (which could cause later problems and damage), Wright would incorporate the water into the home in the form of a fountain.


These outdoor stone stairs led to a cement “plunge pool” fed by Bear Run where the family could take a dip without walking on the river rocks.



Most of the corners of the house are designed with windows that open revealing no vertical frame at the corner to allow the people inside to feel more connected with the outside.


Unfortunately, we were not permitted to take pictures inside the house, but we could take pictures on two of the terraces. Dave used that opportunity to take some photos through the windows.


Most of the furniture was designed by Wright and is built into the walls. The couches on the left and back right of this photo are intended to double as beds for unexpected guests.

More built-ins.



The chair you see above is one of a set that were purchased by the Kaufmanns for the home. They are the only furniture in the home that Wright did not design. They are, however, Tuscan country chairs from the 16th century. Still very cool.

This photo includes some of the only blinds in the home.


Wright objected to the use of blinds in the home because they disconnected the inhabitants from the surrounding nature, but the Kaufmanns insisted on the blinds in this guest room.

The family and their visitors reached the house by crossing this stone and cement bridge over Bear Run. The bridge was being patched and painted while we were there.


This is a view of the terrace from outside the home.


Notice that those white flowers are in an indoor flower bed. Just beyond that bed are some red stairs. These are the indoor stairs that go down beneath the house into Bear Run. By that, I mean that one could open the glass doors and walk down a stone staircase directly into the creek, which is a consistent 55 degrees.


Here is a better view of the stairs. The tour guide informed us that in the spring, when the snow melts, the water sometimes flows as high as the second or third step from the bottom.


If you look carefully at this picture, you can see that in the back right is a staircase with bookshelves built into the wall. Brilliant!


Here, we can see a beam of the house built on a curve to go around this tree. This tree looks fairly young to me, so I doubt the tree has been there 80 years, but some tree was there.


Only as we were leaving Fallingwater were we able to see that classic view of the house that has become famous. Approaching the house, one does not see the waterfall but hears it.



After leaving Fallingwater, we steered toward the highway for the 7-hour drive home. It was nice to see the trees and hills I am used to.


When we arrived in our driveway a little after 2 am Monday morning, we discovered just how much ground we had covered.


I cried a little when I got home because I was so happy to see my cats. On top of it all, our house was IMMACULATE, courtesy of the most amazing house sitter in the world. ShaLeigh had taken fantastic care of our house and our cats. It was such a relief to come home to a clean house. We thought our trip was over.

After about a day, we made a final decision to join our friends Patrick and Jen (from Atlanta) in Hilton Head, SC, on Thursday, so the story continues.

Day 36: Pittsburgh

On July 18, our friend Will gave us the most fabulous tour of Pittsburgh! We began with *oh, God* the steps. Pittsburgh, you understand, is the city that lies at the point where the Allegheny and Monongahela Rivers converge to become the Ohio River. The Allegheny Mountains surround this area; thus, the city is built into the sides of these great mountains. When the city was first digging into the mining industry, there weren’t nearly as many cars as there are now, so there weren’t as many roads. Instead, workers would use stairs to get up and down the mountains. They’d go down the mountain for work, up the mountain for lunch, down the mountain to go back to work, up the mountain to come home in the evening. Will tells us that older maps of the city show some of the staircases being named with street names. Technically, streets were just thoroughfares that allowed people to get from one place to another regardless of vehicle; thus, a paved road would be named as would a staircase. According to a gent named Bob Regan who published a book about the stair, there are 712 sets of steps in Pittsburgh. Well, just a little while on these stairs and I was ready to throttle Will for even thinking this was a good idea. However, the awesomeness of what we saw from the tops of these staircases made it all worthwhile. This is the view from the top of the first set of stairs we climbed (I’m afraid that I have no idea where we were).


Note that the power lines follow the stairs. That’s how important they are.

Two hundred years ago, the steps would have been constructed of wood, but most were replaced with concrete by the WPA.


We also loved the different styles of homes around the city. We found these delightful single family homes


...as well as the row-style houses, which are typically three stories and a basement. We found this poor guy standing by himself out there.


Pittsburgh also has more than its fair share of cobblestone streets.


They were very lovely but murder on the suspension of the tan van.

After walking so many steps that I thought my legs might fall off, we headed to Polish Hill where we found an estate sale. These old row houses often have little alleys between them that lead to a common courtyard in the back.


Some old lady had passed away, and her friend was selling off all of her belongings as well as those of the dead lady’s dead sisters. Too bad for them, awesome for me. We checked out the basement floor of the lady’s house to found some serious 1800s construction: arched doorways, huge fireplaces, the whole deal. It was so awesomely decrepit that I was not surprised to find that the house was going to be demolished.

After the estate sale, we headed down the street to the Immaculate Heart of Mary Festival. This was a street fair featuring bingo, games, baked goods, Polish t-shirts and souvenirs, and lots of other fun stuff. They offered their own version of Frito chili pie, but they called it "Taco in a Bag."



Fritos, taco meat, lettuce, tomatoes, and cheese. It was really quite delicious. It only cost $1.50. Now, here’s something I noticed at the festival that I then noticed everywhere. A dollar fifty. This was supposed to be a fundraiser. They should have charged at least $4 for that little treat. The contents alone were worth about $2 when you include the work of cutting all the veggies and cooking the meat. As I started to look around, I realized that EVERYTHING in Pittsburgh was less expensive than it could have been. What a wonderful city! I love it here!

From Polish Hill, we headed to Schenley Park for the Vintage Grand Prix.


Schenley Park is in the Oakland neighborhood in Pittsburgh right near where Carnegie Mellon and Pitt seem to collide. The park was beautiful and green with some rolling hills. It was a very cool site for an antique car race. We found a nice little place on the grass where the cars come around a corner. I thought it was a lovely place to sit until the cars started coming around the corner and we could see them fishtailing a bit. Some even seemed to want to come up on two wheels. One false move and I’d have to run for cover.





After a few heats, we decided to keep on moving. As we walked back to the car, we saw what Will referred to as “radical knitting” on the Schenley Bridge.




I found it quite lovely that someone would spend the time to do that.

We then headed to Squirrel Hill, Pittsburgh’s Jewish neighborhood, to hit an awesome record store.


Almost as a rule, I am not impressed by record stores. However, Jerry’s Records was an AWESOME store. It is a huge building with more records than I thought I’d ever see in one place. It’s all vinyl—not a CD in the joint. Jerry’s boasts more than a million records, and I believe that. Jerry himself is there to help you out if you need him. He’s an older guy who clearly left something behind with the backing from his acid tabs in the 1960s, but he runs an amazing store. The records were all priced reasonably and were generally of excellent quality. The records are all categorized, too, into the normal genres one might expect: jazz, rock, hip-hop, classical, etc. But then they also have weird genres like sermons, Celtic Christmas, “good stuff,” country radio shows, and horror. I even found this little gem.


Were it not for a spoken word/poetry section, I would have been pretty miserable. I left with four records, as did Dave. I think we got out of there for a total of $40. Nice. Jerry’s is a must-see.

From there, it was on to the grocery store and then home for a nice quiet dinner with Will and Kirsten’s friends Joe and Lisel. They were delightful, and dinner was delicious. Dave treated us to his favorite Italian dish: spaghetti with olive oil, fresh garlic, Greek olives, toasted pine nuts, and raisins. It was wonderful. Will grilled up some hot dogs, brats, and veggie dogs, and Joe and Lisel brought a salad with pine nuts and raisins. I can’t recall what else we had, but it was delicious!

We finished the evening with a trip to Nico’s Recovery Room, which is a bar that features Saturday night karaoke. We took full advantage of that, as one might expect. Dave sang “She-Bop” and I sang Cheap Trick’s “Surrender.” Some short little kid, likely a CMU student, got up and sang the Andrew WK song “Party Hard.”


This kid was INTO IT! He knew every little flourish on that song. Lots of air guitar and air drums. It was pretty great.

After about 2 hours of this, we just had to go home. It had been a long day, and we were beat. What a great day it had been!