Fred & Hank Mark America

FHMA Day 75: The End of the Road

QUICK FACTS

• Where We Started:  Boston, Mass.
• Where We Ended: Great Falls, Va.
• Miles Driven: 569 (20,125 total).
• New States: Rhode Island, Connecticut, New Jersey, Delaware.
• States Still to Go: Nada. Zilch. Bupkis.

THE DAY'S HIGHLIGHTS

The final day of the FHMA journey didn't quite have the feel of a victory lap, as we had to bust our tails to accomplish the goal of hitting all 48 contiguous states. But, in the end, we got it done, and even managed to close the FHMA journey with a late-night ride past some of the nation's most symbolic sites.

We started the day in Boston, however, happy to escape our seedy hotel without encountering any gunfire or bedbugs (as far as we know, at least on the bedbugs). Our first stop was a swing past the John F. Kennedy Presidential Library & Museum, located on Columbia Point, alongside Dorchester Bay. The building, designed by I.M. Pei, is -- in my opinion -- the most striking of any presidential library. Unfortunately, that's the only review I can give, since we didn't have time to go inside. Because we needed to be in Fairfield, Conn. for lunch, and we'd slept in a little bit longer than intended, we were already behind schedule by 9am. The good news: Since Joan's sister lives in Boston, we'll be able to easily go back and go inside the Kennedy library. But since the building is a Pei creation, we thought it warranted a photo.

The John F. Kennedy Presidential Library & Museum in Boston.

From there, we had to start heading south toward Connecticut, so we had to skip a visit to Brookline to John F. Kennedy National Historic Site, which houses JFK's birthplace. Luckily, the birthplaces of three other presidents were kind of on our way. The first was in Milton, Mass., where George H.W. Bush was born. The home where Bush was born is gone, but there's a marker at the location. We only managed to get Fred to interact with the marker by placing a treat on top of it.

Fred finds a treat atop the George H.W. Bush birthplace marker in Milton, Mass. (And, no, we wouldn't do this with a gravestone.We learned our lesson when Fred peed on Ernest Hemingway's grave in Ketchum, Idaho on the 2003 trip).  

Not far from Bush's birthplace is the Adams National Historic Park, which houses many sites relating to John Adams and John Quincy Adams, including their birthplaces and graves. No two presidents were born closer to each other, and it's a record that's unlikely to be broken, since they born mere feet apart.

The birthplace of John Adams. His son, John Quincy Adams, was born in another building just off camera. 

After concluding our Massachusetts presidential tour, it was time to tackle Rhode Island. After heading through its capital of Providence, we made our official stop there, at Goddard Memorial State Park, in Warwick. The goal here was some off-leash time for the beagles, who were facing a long day in the car. So we let the dogs loose, and the boys took a run in the park. All of them.

Hank tries to stay in front of a running Jim at Goddard Memorial State Park, in Warwick, R.I. Let's just say he didn't need to break a sweat.

From Warwick, we shot down I-95 to have lunch with Joan's family in Fairfield, Conn. Afterward, we did our Connecticut photo op at St. Mary's by the Sea Park in Bridgeport.

Hank at St. Mary's by the Sea Park in Bridgeport, Conn.

Fred and Hank enjoyed some beach time at St. Mary's, which was great. They then decided to enjoy some dead crabs, and rolled in them for a little while, which wasn't great. We managed to get them out of the muck pretty quickly, but not before it became obvious we had another foul-smelling dog problem. This time, however, we were not willing to suffer through a hellish ride home, so we decided to bathe them once we found a good place. So we stopped in Westport -- Joan's hometown -- and picked up some bottled water to go with the dog shampoo we already had.

Deciding to avoid the traffic nightmare that is the George Washington Bridge, we chose to loop through Westchester and across the Tappan Zee Bridge, and then dipped into New Jersey, where we made a few stops. First, we cruised past the Grover Cleveland Birthplace in Caldwell, N.J., to see where our 22nd and 24th president was born. Then, spotting a nice park -- which turned out to be Grover Cleveland Park -- we decided it was time to give the beagles their public bath. So we poured bottled water over them, lathered them up, rinsed them off and wiped them down with towels from the car. As soon as that was done, they both sprinted the park around wildly for five minutes trying to dry themselves off. At home, we call this bizarre ritual the "crazy wet dog."

So with our odor problem mostly resolved, we continued our journey south, making a stop at The Thomas Edison Center in Edison, N.J. The main attractions at the Edison Center are a small museum and a tower dedicated to the famed inventor. During Edison's most productive years, his laboratory was located near Edison, in the small village of Menlo Park. Unfortunately, when we arrived, we found the place to be in complete disrepair. First, there was a fence around the tower that kept us from getting close to it. Then, seeking another place for a photo op with the pups, we spotted a plaque. Unfortunately, that wasn't a great option either.

The not-very-helpful commemorative plaque at the Thomas Edison Center in Edison, N.J. (Photo by Jim)

We left kind of sad that such a historic place had been left to rot away, but I'm happy to report that some Web research turned up the fact the entire facility is currently being rehabilitated (although we didn't see any signs at the site that communicated this). The bad news: After three years, the project's current state is the "development of construction documents." Wow, documents! Coming soon, I'm sure: A blue-ribbon panel to evaluate the documents. That'll be followed by an RFP process, careful evaluation of the applicants and maybe -- just maybe -- at some point, actual construction. FHMA's predicted date for completion of the renovation: 2015.

Before leaving Jersey, I had one last mission. As someone pretty familiar with all the roads between Washington and New York, I've always been intrigued by New Jersey's missing segment of I-95. Those of you who drive up the East Coast have probably encountered this: When you're driving north on I-95, you hit a fork right after you reach New Jersey, where I-95 heads toward Philadelphia and I-295 becomes the New Jersey Turnpike. Then, if you get on the Turnpike, after about 60 miles, the road -- for no apparent reason -- suddenly changes from I-295 to I-95, even though there's no interchange or any other intersection with I-95. There's a long history associated with this gap, and plans to close it. But until the gap is closed, I-95 will remain the only interstate in the original plans for the Interstate Highway System that has not yet been completed.

Because of this geographical oddity -- and the fact we wanted to pass through Philadelphia anyway -- we decided to get off the Turnpike, and find the "beginning" of the stretch of I-95 that takes you all the way to Miami. In Lawrence Township, N.J., we found it: a spot off of Route 1 where the only option for I-95 is to go south. (The northern part of I-95 starts about 10 miles away, on the Jersey Turnpike). It was getting dark and Joan was on the phone, so I could not get a picture, but here's someone else's photo of the sign we saw. I am a highway geek -- and who wouldn't be after logging all these miles? -- so this may only have been interesting to me (and the guy who put together the site linked to above), but now I can say I've been on every mile of I-95 except the northernmost 50 miles in Maine.

Now, we'd decided about a week ago that we wanted to close out our trip with something special. In looking at our proposed route home, the one thing that jumped out at me was the opportunity to do a symbolic end to our journey by cruising through two of the country's most historical cities, Philadelphia and Washington, and getting photos of some of its most symbolic locations. So, at about 9:30pm, we reached Philadelphia, hopped off I-95, parked near the National Constitution Center, and took a walking tour of the famous sites in that area. 

 

The Liberty Bell in Philadelphia.

A pedestrian is framed in a moving bus zooming past Independence Hall in Philadelphia.
 

The preamble of the United States Constitution, inscripted on the exterior of the National Constitution Center in Philadelphia. (Photo by Jim)

While we'd now completed half of our symbolic tour, we were well aware that we had one last state to conquer. That last state -- ironically -- was the United States' first state: Delaware, which earned that honor by being the first state to ratify the Constitution.

 

The FHMA crew officially conquers State No. 48.

After eating dinner outside Wilmington, we still needed a canine photo op, so we headed down to the city's pretty riverfront area along the Christina River. Now pushing midnight, we didn't have a lot of light to work with, but we managed to get what we needed.
 

A bridge and parking structure reflect off the Christina River in Wilmington, Del.

 Joan tries to get Fred to pose on the riverfront in Wilmington, Del. (Photo by Jim)

Once we departed Delaware, all that was left on our itinerary was downtown Washington. Despite the fact it was getting awfully late -- or awfully early, depending on how you look at it -- we still felt strongly that a visit to the National Mall was the right way to end the trip. So, at about 1:45am, we parked along a deserted Constitution Avenue, and starting shooting.
 

The Washington Monument, with the U.S. Capitol peeking up from the left.

 

A ghostly Abraham Lincoln stares out from the Lincoln Memorial. (Photo by Jim)

The front of the White House wasn't visible without parking and walking some more, so we did skip that, and instead chose to make the U.S. Capitol our last stop.

The U.S. Capitol, still shining brightly at 2:15am.

The FHMA crew catches the last of the thousands of cool sights we saw on our 75-day journey. (Photo by Jim)

Finally, at 2:54am, to the ironic strains of Peter Gabriel's "Don't Give Up," we pulled into the driveway. After 75 days, 10 hours and 54 minutes, I officially declared the Fred & Hank Mark America tour completed. Despite Peter Gabriel's words, after 20,125 miles, it was indeed time to give up.

FHMA PROGRAMMING NOTE

• While our trip is now over, and this will be the final daily report, there will still be a few more posts. We'll do a Best & Worst of the trip, pick our favorite photos, show a completed trip map and cover a few other odds and ends. So we're not quite dead yet.
• More importantly, thanks to all of you who followed this journey for the past three months. It was a memorable trip, and we saw so many amazing things, but your participation made it that much more special to us, so thanks so much to all of you. If I'm lucky enough to be able to turn this into a book, I have all of you to thank for it.

ROAD SCRAPS

• While we admittedly had to shortchange some states on the Fred & Hank Mark America tour, I hope you don't read anything into that. Many of the states we sped through for FHMA were states we spent a lot of time in on the 2003 Fred Takes America tour. On that trip, we worked our way out west by going through northern states, so we spent a lot of time in Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Ohio and Michigan. In fact, we spent so much time in the northern part of the U.S. in 2003 that we had to kind of rush back through the south. That's why, for FHMA, we decided to focus more on the south and southwest. But we are not "statists," who have anything against specific states. (OK, maybe a few; I'm looking at you, Florida.) In 2003, we visited -- and loved -- Acadia National Park in Maine; we spent a weekend at Lake Winnipesaukee in New Hampshire; we explored the beautiful Lake Champlain area of upstate Vermont; we hit Mackinac Island and the UP in Michigan; we visited Door County and Milwaukee in Wisconsin; we swung through Minneapolis and saw the headwaters of the Mississippi River in Minnesota; and we spent time in Cleveland, Columbus and many other areas of Ohio. If this sounds slightly defensive, well, it is. Just didn't want anyone to think time spent in states reflected any kind of value judgment on our part.
• The best trip stat, as far as I'm concerned: I got no speeding tickets. I know, I'm as shocked as you are.
• Sign of the Day: "Dear Crossing," in Quincy, Mass. This sign is to let you know there are elderly folks nearby. We didn't get a picture of this actual sign, but found a photo of an identical sign from -- big shock here -- Florida. I'd never seen one of this before. Brilliant.

 MUSIC REPORT

• Random iPod shuffle song of the day: "The Trees," by Rush. I sense that there's a bit of Rush fatigue, so I won't belabor this. Great song, though.
• Here's the Day 15 report on our A-to-Z iPod Exploration:
  
  • First Song of the Day: "A Different Drum," by Peter Gabriel.
    Last Song of the Day: "Don't Give Up," by Peter Gabriel.
  • Best Songs: "A Different Drum," by Peter Gabriel; "Digging in the Dirt," by Peter Gabriel; "Dirty Day'," by U2; "Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap," by AC/DC; "Dirty Laundry," by Don Henley; "Dirty Work," by Steely Dan; "Discipline," by King Crimson; "Distant Early Warning," by Rush; "Do You Feel Like We Do?" by Peter Frampton; "Do You Remember Rock and Roll Radio?" by The Ramones; "Do You Wanna Dance?" by The Ramones; "Dogs," by Pink Floyd; "Don't Be Cruel," by Elvis Presley; "Don't Change," by INXS; "(Don't Fear) The Reaper," by Blue Oyster Cult.
  • Pleasant Surprises: "Disconnected," by RJD2; "Dolls in the Shadows," by Tangerine Dream; "Cloudless," by Peter Gabriel.
  • Guilty Pleasures: "Dim All the Lights," by Donna Summer; "Disco Inferno," by The Trammps; "Do You Believe in Love," by Huey Lewis & The News.
  • Bad Songs by Good Artists: "Dirty Movies," by Van Halen; "Dirty White Boy," by Foreigner; "Don't Get Me Wrong," by The Pretenders.
  • Great Rediscoveries: "Difficult to Cure (Beethoven's Ninth)," by Rainbow; "Dig Me," by King Crimson; "Do It Again," by The Kinks; "Do They Know It's Christmas?" by Band Aid; "Doesn't Anyone Stay Together Anymore?" by Phil Collins; "Don't Answer Me," by The Alan Parsons Project; "Don't Come Around Here No More," by Tom Petty.
• After a little more than two weeks of this A-to-Z experiment, I made it through 1,799 songs out of the 8.932 on my iPod. So had I started this experiment on Day 1 of the trip, I would just about have made it through every song. Now I wish I'd done that. Oh well.

MEAL REPORT

• Lunch: Super Duper Weenie, Fairfield, Conn.: Ironically, this was also my nickname is elementary school. No, I'm just kidding; it was much worse than that. Anyway, we met Joan's family for a quick lunch at this well-known hot dog place right off I-95. At one time, Super Duper Weenie consisted only of a truck that roamed the Fairfield area. But, in 1999, the popularity of the dogs led to the opening of the Super Duper Weenie restaurant. The buns are delivered fresh each morning, the relishes are all made from scratch, as is the chili that you can get atop the dogs. Joan got two plain dogs, and I got one Italian sausage and one chili dog (hey, it's the last day, why stop now?). The hot dogs were excellent, especially my chili dog. One interesting note: the chef at Super Duper Weenie is a classically trained chef who worked at a high-end Italian restaurant in Norwalk, Conn. before we was bitten by dog fever. Definitely an interesting place with an interesting history. Jim Nutrition Rating: 0 stars (out of 5). Restaurant Rating: 4 stars (out of 5).
• Dinner: Charcoal Pit, Wilmington, Del.: We'd hoped our last official FHMA meal would be a memorable one. Sadly, it wasn't. While this place had the perfect ambiance for a diner -- classic 1950's decor and a wait staff that looked like they'd worked there for 50 years -- the food just wasn't very good. We went to this place after seeing it listed as serving one of the best 100 burgers in America. While my burger wasn't bad, it did not come close to living up to that hype. The fries were pretty good, though. Joan went for a salad and grilled cheese and found them so memorable, she couldn't remember what she had an hour later. Jim Nutrition Rating: 1 star (out of 5). Restaurant Rating: 2 stars (out of 5).
• Now, the moment you've all been waiting for (and I've been dreading))... the weigh in. Yes, after 75 days and countless hamburgers, thousands of fries, many pounds of cheese and a pig's worth of bacon, my weight -- which was 248 when we left Virginia on March 6 -- officially ended up at 251. Yes, folks, after all that, I gained a mere three pounds. For those skeptics out there, I ask you this: If I was willing to publicly announce my weight before the trip and then list everything I ate for 75 days, what possible motivation would I have for lying at this point? I believe there are four reasons for this relatively insignificant weight gain:
  
  1. I did not drink much at all on the trip; I had maybe 10 beers over 10 weeks;
  2. There was a fair amount of hiking and walking on this trip. No, we didn't do any five-mile hikes, but we did something just about every day that certainly qualified as exercise. Hey, and if you think about it, moving a ton of luggage back and forth from a hotel room to the car every day qualifies as weightlifting, at least in my book.
  3. Until the last week of the trip, we held firm on not snacking in the car. All we kept in the car were almonds, some fruit and a box of Saltines. We arrived home with two of the four strips of Saltines were still unopened. I will admit that, as fatigue set in late in the journey, we did break down, and bags of Funyuns, Dots, Jujyfruits and a few Charleston Chews did penetrate the car. But, overall, we did pretty well.
  4. We never really delved into this in the blog, but we hardly ever ate a bad breakfast. Pretty much every hotel where we stayed had a continental breakfast, and every day, Joan would stop by and grab some fruit for me and yogurt for her.
• You can only Imagine how pissed off Joan was when she found out that -- after her healthier eating -- she weighed exactly the same as when we left, 142 pounds. Now, she thinks this is highly unfair because, as she says, "I ate better than you did the past 10 weeks." My response: "So did 99.9 percent of the human beings walking the earth."
• Hank was the biggest loser on the trip, dropping from 26.1 pounds down to 24. Fred has not had a weigh-in since we have not brought him to the vet, but we think he's pretty much the same from when we left.

HOTEL REPORT

• Chez Brady, Great Falls, Va.: What an improvement since the last time we were here. The water works and we were able to get a very, very late checkout. Hotel rating: 5 stars (out of 5).

COMMENT OF THE DAY

OK, I have to close with the best endorsement ever, from friend and former executive editor of The Washington Post, Len Downie (who just wrote his own novel, "Rules of the Game," which has gotten excellent reviews):

• On many levels, your trip's digital diary would make a great book that I'm sure would sell -- to travelers, dog lovers, American history buffs, photographers and all of us who have simply enjoyed your digital company. An annotated map (both print and digital) of your journey, discoveries, pleasures and problems would be quite cool.

Len, I hope if the day comes and someone actually publishes this thing, I can get a blurb. :-)

  

BONUS BEAGLE PHOTOS

Hank stands before the Edison Tower in Edison, N.J., and thinks, "You know, this tower is cool and all, but there's one bigger and grander in Washington. Maybe we should go there?"

Ten hours later, Fred says, "You mean this one, right?"

BONUS FHMA GROUP PHOTO

Per previous requests, here is -- finally -- a photo of the entire FHMA crew, taken by the wife of Joan's brother, Alison Pugh, at St. Mary's by the Sea Park in Bridgeport, Conn. And, no, Joan is not choking Fred; it just looks that way. (Photo by Alison Pugh)

FHMA Day 74: Prez-ing Forward

QUICK FACTS

• Where We Started:  Newburgh, N,Y.
• Where We Ended: Boston, Mass.
• Miles Driven: 401 (19,556 total).
• New States: Vermont, New Hampshire, Maine, Massachusetts.
• States Still to Go: 4 (New Jersey, Delaware, Connecticut, Rhode Island)

THE DAY'S HIGHLIGHTS

The FHMA crew awoke Monday still needing to hit eight northeastern states in just two days in order to successfully close out its journey. Knowing that any long stops were thus out of the question, we instead hit a variety of sites in New York, Vermont and New Hampshire before closing the day with a drive-by shooting of Maine.

We awoke in Newburgh, N.Y., a city neither of us had ever been to. We quickly determined that it was also a city we could not wait to get out of. Depressing, tired and dirty, it's obvious Newburgh has seen better days, and one can only hope it'll have better days ahead. But it did have one site we wanted to see: Washington's Headquarters State Historic Site, along the banks of the Hudson River. Newburgh was the headquarters of the Continental Army during a good chunk of the American Revolution, from March 1782 until late 1783. It was in Newburgh that George Washington rejected the proposal that he become king, and also put down a conspiracy organized by officers angry about not being paid. Because of cost reductions mandated by New York State, the building/museum on site was not open on Mondays, though we were free to walk the grounds. We were the only people there.

Fred at Washington's Headquarters State Historic Site in Newburgh, N.Y.

 A statue of George Washington looks longingly across the Hudson River from the site of his former headquarters. I'm sure he's wondering when he can get out of Newburgh as well. (Photo by Jim)

After leaving Newburgh behind, we crossed the Hudson River and headed north to Hyde Park, N.Y. to visit the Franklin D. Roosevelt National Historic Site, the site of FDR's home, presidential library and grave site. We started at the grave, located in a rose garden on the site.

The final resting place of Franklin D. Roosevelt and Eleanor Roosevelt, at the Roosevelt Historic Site in Hyde Park, N.Y. (Photo by Jim)

Because I assumed Joan didn't want to go to the presidential library, I had bought only one ticket. Turns out I was wrong, and she did want to go. But since we'd already walked out onto the site, and were tight on time, she decided to go take the dogs out. This was the first in a series of brain-dead things I did Monday. So off I went to FDR's Presidential Library & Museum. Roosevelt's is the only presidential library that actually opened while the president it honors was still in office. Because time was tight, I had to settle for a 20-minute tour of the museum. It's not a big place, but it's chock full of interesting material, so I got through as much as I could in the time I had. I made it to 1921, when Roosevelt was struck by polio, before I had to leave. Because we have relatives nearby, we'll thankfully get another chance to hit Hyde Park.

Having disposed of presidential greats Washington and Roosevelt, much of the rest of the day ended up focusing on some of our lesser chief executives. The first stop on our "Tour of Forgotten Presidents," was Kinderhook, N.Y., the home of Martin Van Buren. If you don't know Van Buren, try listing all the presidents chronologically from George Washington on. When you get stuck, you've reached Martin Van Buren. Our eighth president, Van Buren is notable only for being the first president who was born an American citizen and for being one of only two people -- Thomas Jefferson was the other -- to serve as Secretary of State, Vice President and President. Earlier this year, C-SPAN ranked the 42 men who, to that point, had served significant time as president. Van Buren ranked 31st on that list. Ironically, he'd been 30th when C-SPAN did the same exercise in 2000, but apparently, the march of history never stops, as he's now been leapfrogged by Benjamin Harrison. Despite Van Buren's low ranking, I love presidential sites, so we stopped anyway. The first stop was the Martin Van Buren National Historic Site, comprised largely of Van Buren's large home, Lindenwald. We lucked out, as Monday was the first day the site was open for the season, but once again, we didn't have time for a tour of the home. Maybe if he'd ranked just a bit higher... 

Hank and Fred in front of Lindenwald, the home of Martin Van Buren, who died there in 1862.

While Hank maintains his dignified pose at Lindenwald, Fred finds something dead and rolls in it. Luckily, whatever it was did not carry the stench of death we experienced on our long ride home last week.  

After a quick spin by Kinderhook Cemetery to see Van Buren's grave, we headed through Albany, then bounced to the northwest and into Vermont. The original plan had been to make another stop on our tour of inconsequential presidents: Plymouth, the birthplace of Calvin Coolidge (C-SPAN rank: No. 26). But, since we were behind schedule and didn't want to go that far north, we chose instead to visit Vermont's tallest man-made structure, the Bennington Battle Monument, in Bennington, Vt. The 306-foot-tall monument commemorates the Revolutionary War's Battle of Bennington, which was a crucial victory for the colonists, one that weakened the the army of British General John Burgoyne and led to its eventual surrender at the Battle of Saratoga in 1777. Ironically, much of the Battle of Bennington actually took place 10 miles away, in Walloomsac, N.Y., but the colonial fighters came mostly from New Hampshire, Massachusetts and what would later become Vermont.

Fred ponders the meaning of war at the Bennington Battle Monument. Or maybe he's just looking at a treat Joan is holding aloft. You make the call.

From Bennington, we cruised through the Green Mountain National Forest, through Brattleboro, Vt., and across the border into New Hampshire. I'm a big New Hampshire fan, having spent many summer vacations in my youth at Lake Winnipesaukee, so I highly recommend it. But we weren't there long this time around. We passed through Keene, N.H., and right outside town, with night starting to fall, made a stop at Granite Lake to get our mandated photo of the dogs in New Hampshire. It wasn't easy, as the residents around Granite Lake don't seem to want strangers coming around. Finally, after encountering many "No Trespassing" signs and no public beach areas, we found a small patch of land that appeared to be for public use.

Fred gets all pensive on us in front of Granite Lake, outside Keene, N.H. Maybe he is pondering why Joan isn't holding a treat up in front of him this time.

From Granite Lake, we made a couple of quick stops in the Granite State. First, in Hillsborough, we visited the Franklin Pierce Homestead, the childhood home of our 14th president (C-SPAN ranking: 40, saved from last place only by the incompetence of James Buchanan and Andrew Johnson). Then, in Concord, we stopped to see the New Hampshire State House. After an excellent dinner at the famous Red Arrow Diner in Manchester, N.H., we headed for Maine. 

By the time we arrived in Maine, it was near 11pm, and we'd had a long day. We love Maine, and spent a lot of time in the state -- especially at the beautiful Acadia National Park -- back in 2003. But, in 2009, it was truly a token stop. We wanted our Maine photo op to be right on the Atlantic Ocean, so we explored the coast until we found a cool spot in York, Me. The problem was lighting; we just couldn't shed enough light on our subjects to get a good photo. But since a photo of a canine from every state in required, here's the best we could do.

Fred basks in the headlights of our car on a sidewalk along the Atlantic in York, Me.

Here is my best attempt to capture our Maine moment, using the night shot functionality on my camera. As Hank waits off-camera, Joan tries to get Fred to look her direction. (Photo by Jim)

We were fried by this time, so we briefly considered putting down in Portland for the evening. We even started checking into hotels, and found that the only Choice Hotel in Portland that took dogs was also where Mohammed Atta and another 9/11 hijacker had stayed at on September 10, 2001. That creepy detail -- and the fact that going to Portland would have pushed us another 45 minutes north -- led us to change our minds. Instead, we headed south to Boston, where we prepared ourselves mentally and physically for the last day of FHMA.

The FHMA crew makes a late-night pass through the Liberty Tunnel in Boston. (Photo by Jim; don't worry, Joan was driving)

ROAD SCRAPS

• Fatigue is starting to take hold, as both Joan and I seem to be experiencing cognitive issues. A few examples:
  • Early in the day, Joan asked me what we were planning to do at the "LBJ library." I  corrected her, telling her we were going to the FDR Library. A little while later, she asked again about the "LBJ Library." Assuring her we didn't have time for a drive to Austin, Tex., I once again corrected her. That didn't stop her from asking about "LBJ" a third time. 
  • A few hours later, when we stopped at the Kinderhook Cemetery to see Martin Van Buren's grave, I drove past the cemetery once, and wondered aloud why there wasn't a more prominent marker for Van Buren's grave. After another pass, I whined even louder. Joan looked at me, shook her head and pointed at the huge sign in front of me, one shaped like an arrow, that said, "This Way to Grave Site of Martin Van Buren." Joan looked at me, and said, "My husband is an idiot." I responded by muttering something about going to see "LBJ's" grave.
  • In the early evening, soon after we filled up the tank In Wilmington, Vt., I fell into a panic when I could not find my beloved BlackBerry. I looked at all the places I normally keep my BlackBerry in the car: in the cup holder, in the change tray, next to the gear shift, in the pocket on the driver's side of the car. No luck. I checked all my jacket pockets and my pants pockets. Deciding this was an emergency of great proportions, I pulled over and got out to see whether it had slipped under or in between the car seats. Nothing. In a panic, I was about to get back in the car and go back to the gas station when I finally spotted the BlackBerry. It was sitting comfortably in that thing we call a belt cradle. Which was on my belt. This idiotic move -- combined with my graveyard blindness and not buying Joan a ticket for the FDR Library -- gave me an insurmountable 3 to 1 lead on the day. Joan decided to protect her lead by sleeping through the rest of Vermont and most of New Hampshire.
• Our feet never hit the ground in Troy, N.Y., as we did our typical 45mph tour of that city. But we were intrigued by its welcome sign, which proclaimed Troy as "The Home of Uncle Sam." This required some investigating. Turns out that, according to local legend, back when Troy served as a key supply line for U.S. troops in the War of 1812, a local butcher named Samuel Wilson supplied the troops with meat. The barrels that contained this meat were stamped "U.S." for "United States," but happy troops commented that the initials on the barrels meant they were coming from "Uncle Sam." Troy has since claimed to be the home of "Uncle Sam." In 1961, Congress issued a resolution that seemed to confirm that Wilson had indeed been the inspiration for the term "Uncle Sam."
• On the gorgeous town square in Keene, N.H., there's a sign stenciled on the side of one of the buildings alongside the square. It's an advertisement for Parrish Shoes. It's a great location for an ad. If Parrish Shoes actually existed, that is. The sign is actually left over from the Robin Williams film "Jumanji," which was filmed largely in Keene. (Hat tip to FHMA reader and Keene native Mark Fitzhenry for this item) 
• One site we planned to see but had to skip in order to stay on schedule was the Brigham Young Memorial in Whitingham, Vt. Young was born in Whitingham in 1801, and while the future leader of the Mormon Church and the founder of Salt Lake City didn't spend much of his life in Vermont, I admit to being surprised to find he'd been born there. On the other hand, I guess it's obvious he wasn't born in Utah since, you know, Lewis and Clark didn't even start the nation's first cross-country trip with a dog until 1803. (By the way, those wimps didn't even blog).
• Sign of the Day #1 :

(Photo by Jim)

I'm not sure which part of this makes me laugh hardest. The fact they misspelled "governor" or the fact this flawed sign was created by the state education department. I checked to be sure, and can't find any evidence that "govenor" was ever used as an acceptable spelling. Then again, Van Buren's only been dead for 147 years, so maybe this change request is still working its way through the New York State bureaucracy. Let me tell you, though, this crap would not stand in Springfield, Ill.

• Sign of the Day #2: Spotted near Kinderhook, N.Y...

I understand that this isn't someone running for mayor or senator or president, but would this sign really inspire you to vote for this guy for the school board? I did a little research, and found the Brunswick Central School District site that listed the statements of the four candidates for school board. You may notice that the election was held the day after we were there, and because I like to tie up loose ends wherever I can, I'm happy to tell you that Mr. Matthews was indeed elected to the board. One can only imagine the campaign signs of those who didn't win.

 MUSIC REPORT

• Random iPod shuffle song of the day: "What Does Your Soul Look Like? (Part 4)" by DJ Shadow. This song is a pretty representative piece from the always interesting DJ Shadow, an artist who remains hard to classify. I've heard his music called "instrumental hip hop," which doesn't sound quite right to me. I'd say "trip hop" -- a combination of the hip hop and electronic genres -- is a better fit. DJ Shadow's debut album, "Endtroducing" holds the distinction of being the first album comprised completely of samples from other albums, and yet still was named one of the 100 best albums of all time by TIME in 2006.
• Here's the Day 14 report on our A-to-Z iPod Exploration:
  
  • First Song of the Day: "Daytime Dilemma (Dangers of Love)," by The Ramones.
    Last Song of the Day: "Die Hard the Hunter," by Def Leppard.
  • Best Songs: "Dazed and Confused," by Led Zeppelin; "Dead Man Walking," by Bruce Springsteen; "Deathly," by Aimee Mann; "Deep Blue Day," by Brian Eno; "Desafinado," by Stan Getz & Charlie Byrd.
  • Pleasant Surprises: "Dayvan Cowboy," by Boards of Canada; "Dead Dog on Asphalt," by Adrian Belew; "Dead Finks Don't Talk," by Brian Eno; "Dead Sun," by Moby; "Deep Forbidden Lake," by Neil Young; "Des Etoiles Electroniques," by Stereolab; "Desert Song," by Stanley Clarke; "Desolation Row," by Bob Dylan; "Detour," by Duane Eddy; "Diamond Diary," by Tangerine Dream.
  • Guilty Pleasures: "December '63 (Oh What a Night)," by Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons; "The Devil Went Down to Georgia," by The Charlie Daniels Band.
  • Bad Songs by Good Artists: "Desire," by U2; "Desperado," by The Eagles (though it was hilarious when used as a "Seinfeld" plot point); "Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes," by Paul Simon.
  • Great Rediscoveries: "Dear Prudence," by The Beatles; "Dearest," by Buddy Holly; "Death Is a Star," by The Clash; "Death of a Disco Dancer," by The Smiths; "Destroyer," by The Kinks.

MEAL REPORT

• Lunch: Eveready Diner, Hyde Park, N.Y.: We decided that, being in New York, we needed to find a good old New York diner. We lucked out when we encountered the Eveready, which is one of the area's best-known diners. We learned a long time ago that multiple positive reviews posted inside a restaurant's front door don't mean much, but in this case, they were dead on. Joan had onion soup and a Greek salad. I decided to go French, so I got French onion soup, French dip and French fries. Magnifique. After we dropped off our francs at the register, it was back to the highway. Jim Nutrition Rating: 1.5 stars (out of 5). Restaurant Rating: 4 stars (out of 5).
• Dinner: Red Arrow Diner, Manchester, N.H.: This legendary diner has been visited by just about every presidential candidate in recent memory, and is also a favorite of actor Adam Sandler, who grew up in Manchester. Each booth carries a small plaque that marks which famous people once sat there. Joan's side of the booth had once been occupied by the Barenaked Ladies (or at least two of them), and my side by Hillary Clinton. We agreed that these visits probably did not occur simultaneously. As for the food, it was good, though of limited availability. Joan asked for sweet potato fries. They were out. I asked for mashed potatoes. Out. So I opted for mac and cheese to go with my burger, and Joan had grilled cheese and homemade potato chips. The food was good, though not amazing, but it's the ambiance of the place that really hit us. The service was wonderful, it's cool-looking little diner and the history of the place is evident everywhere you look. Jim Nutrition Rating: 1 star (out of 5). Restaurant Rating: 4 stars (out of 5). I may run for president just so I can come back.

The Red Arrow Diner in Manchester, N.H. (Photo by Jim)

HOTEL REPORT

• Comfort Inn, Boston, Mass.: We didn't finish strong on the hotel front, whiffing for the second straight night. The good news: The wireless worked at this hotel. But it was in a shady part of Boston, as evidenced by the 2-inch-thick bulletproof glass between the customers and the clerk. Let's be honest, when you see that kind of protection, you know it's there for a reason. The place was also dirty. It wasn't a complete disaster, like the Quality Inn in Newburgh, but it wasn't a particularly great way to close out our hotel experiences. I predicted we'd hear a gunshot at some point in the night, and was pleasantly surprised to be wrong. Hotel rating: 2 stars (out of 5).

COMMENT OF THE DAY

From friend and fellow baseball fanatic Dave Heller:

• I can't believe you didn't make mention of Taft (supposedly) starting the seventh-inning stretch or being the first president to throw out a ball at a baseball game. Speaking of which, now to plot a baseball trip! ;) :)

Yes, I did miss some of Taft's most important achievements. Taft was a huge baseball fan -- literally, as he was our only 300-pound president -- and, in 1910, he became the first U.S. president to throw out the first pitch at a major league baseball game. The seventh-inning stretch story associated with Taft is probably bullshit, but feel free to judge for yourself.

  

BONUS BEAGLE PHOTO

Hank stares blankly into the distance at the Bennington Battle Memorial in Bennington, Vt., wondering when his next meal will be.

FHMA Days 71-73: Back Into Battle

QUICK FACTS

• Where We Started:  Great Falls, Va.
• Where We Ended: Newburgh, N.Y.
• Miles Driven: 577 (19,155 total).
• New States: New York.
• States Still to Go: 8 (New Jersey, Delaware, Connecticut, Rhode Island, Massachusetts, Vermont, New Hampshire, Maine)

THE DAY'S HIGHLIGHTS

Our original plan was to hit the road Saturday afternoon, as soon as Joan and I were done with our respective commitments. That turned out to be a pipe dream, as we quickly agreed that we needed to rest up Saturday and instead hit the road again Sunday morning. We both knew that meant we'd need to close out nine states in just three days, but we were both exhausted. In fact, when I arrived home from my meeting Saturday afternoon, Joan was napping. Once we agreed on our revised plan, she rolled over and slept for another four hours. I then managed a three-hour couch nap myself.

When Sunday arrived, however, we were ready. So we reloaded the car with only what we needed for three days -- oh, and the dogs -- and FHMA's three-day, tour-closing drive was officially underway. Although still a bit beat, the humans were excited to complete the 48-state quest. The dogs -- who seemed bored being at home -- responded to the question of whether they wanted to go back in the car by running to it and jumping in. So everyone was fired up and in a good mood, a strange mindset considering where we were headed Sunday: Antietam National Battlefield and Gettysburg National Military Park.

Antietam, located right outside Sharpsburg, Md., honors the bloodiest single-day battle in American history. Approximately 23,000 died on Sept. 17, 1862, when the troops of Robert E. Lee and George B. McClellan fought the Civil War's first battle on Northern soil. The battle is considered a draw by most historians, though I've never quite understood that, since the end result was Lee withdrawing back to Virginia. President Lincoln also saw Antietam as enough of a victory to issue the Emancipation Proclamation soon afterward. Lincoln had been advised by his Cabinet not to release the proclamation until a Union victory, so as not to make its release appear to be a move borne of desperation.

The Battle of Antietam had three major phases, each occurring in a theater slightly south of the previous one. This makes Antietam -- unlike most Civil War battlefields -- extremely easy to tour in chronological order of the battle. After being told this by the park ranger, I commented, "Wasn't that nice of them?" He did not seem amused.

Hank and Fred near one of the cannons at the visitors center at Antietam National Battlefield.

 Hank near the old Poffenberger Farm at Antietam. Union Gen. Joseph Hooker reportedly slept at this farm the night before the battle. It was in better shape then.

The areas of the most interest to me were the Dunker Church, Bloody Lane and Burnside's Bridge. The Dunker Church -- a German Baptist church which got its name because of its method of baptism -- was right at the heart of early portions of the battle, ironic since the church espoused pacifism and its members refused to serve in the military. The white church stuck out in the landscape, and thus became a landmark for both sides.

The Dunker Church at Antietam. For context, here's a photo taken right after the battle. (Photo by Jim)

Bloody Lane, located near the center of the battlefield, got its name for all the wrong reasons. This clay road -- also called "Sunken Road" because it had been worn down by years of use by horses and wagons -- featured some of the bloodiest fighting of the entire Civil War. The Union and Confederacy battled along this road for almost four hours, leaving 5,600 casualties strewn around the 800-yard road.

Bloody Lane at Antietam. (Photo by Jim)

The last key battleground at Antietam was Burnside's Bridge -- which also got its name from the events of this day. Late in the battle, this bridge on the southern end of the battlefield was taken -- after numerous attempts -- by the troops of Union Gen. Ambrose Burnside, though their advance was halted soon after crossing the bridge by the arrival of Confederate Gen. A.P. Hill. That conflict was the final one of the battle, and the arrival of Hill's troops is credited with preventing what could have been a more one-sided Union victory at Antietam.

 Burnside's Bridge at Antietam. (Photo by Jim)

It took us an hour to get from Antietam to Gettysburg. It took Lee almost 10 months. After retreating back to Virginia following Antietam, Lee won a major victory at Chancellorsville -- though he lost Stonewall Jackson there -- and decided again to invade the north. His goal was to reach Harrisburg, Pa. or Philadelphia, which he thought might convince the Union to start talking about peace. On June 30, 1863, Confederate soldiers looking for supplies in Gettysburg spotted Union cavalry. The rebels believed the Union had a much smaller force near Gettysburg than it actually did, and when they sent two brigades into Gettysburg on the morning of July 1 to do more reconnaissance, dismounted Union cavalry were waiting, thus beginning the epic three-day battle that took the lives of 50,000 and helped turn the tide of the war.

We've been to Gettysburg a handful of times, but I wanted to go to check out the new visitors center, which opened last fall. Featuring a fully restored Gettysburg Cyclorama, the new center is a major improvement over the cramped and dated center that preceded it, and also features an excellent museum and theater. 

From the visitors center, we headed out to the battlefield. One thing that always strikes me about Gettysburg is how serene a town it is -- and was at the time of the battle -- which makes for an odd juxtaposition, considering the horror that occurred there.

 A quiet farmhouse at Gettysburg National Military Park.

Like Antietam, Gettysburg features thousands of statues honoring the states, the units and individuals that fought there. Markers also note the locations of both armies at specific times of the battle. You could easily spend two days at Gettysburg trying to make sense of the chaos. 

A statue of Confederate Gen. James Longstreet -- Lee's "Old War Horse" -- at Gettysburg. (Photo by Jim).

The Pennsylvania Memorial at Gettysburg. (Photo by Jim)

The three days of carnage at Gettysburg made a number of places on the battlefield famous, including The Peach Orchard, The Wheatfield, Devil's Den, Seminary Ridge, Cemetery Ridge, Culp's Hill and many others. The most famous of all may well be Little Round Top, where Joshua Chamberlain and his 20th Maine Volunteer Infantry Regiment -- after being told to hold its line at all costs -- held off the rebels for 90 minutes and then drove them off with a downhill bayonet charge that remains one of the most famous actions of the war. Chamberlain and the 20th Maine get a lion's share of the credit for defending the strategically crucial Little Round Top, but two other men deserve equal credit. It was Col. Strong Vincent, who -- without waiting for permission -- sent four regiments to defend Little Round Top after being told it was exposed. The man who noticed this exposure was Gouverneur K. Warren, the chief engineer of the Union Army. Only minutes before encountering Vincent, Warren had climbed up onto Little Round Top, and saw two things: only a few Union signal corps in the area, and the glint of bayonets in the distance. Realizing a Confederate attack on the sparsely defended Little Round Top was imminent, Warren -- also without waiting for orders -- sought troops to hold the line. This led to the conversation with Vincent, and Vincent's subsequent ordering of the 20th Maine to hold the line. 

 The statue of Gouverneur K. Warren at Little Round Top. This commemorates the moment where, binoculars in hand, Warren spotted the Union's exposed flank. (Photo by Jim). 

The Battle of Gettysburg ended with Lee's ill-fated order to send the bulk of his troops across an open field to attack the center of the Union line. While this was indeed the weakest part of the Union line, it was easier to defend and reinforce than either flank, and the resulting Pickett's Charge -- where the 12,500 rebels marching across that field suffered 50 percent casualties -- was the last major action at Gettysburg. Eventually, the failure of this attack forced Lee to retreat back across the Potomac, which he never again crossed. Although Union Gen. George G. Meade led the victorious Union troops at Gettysburg, Lincoln was furious that Meade did not pursue Lee back into Virginia with more alacrity. This led to Lincoln's appointment of Ulysses S. Grant as the general-in-chief of all armies of the United States. One day after the Battle of Gettysburg ended, Grant had forced the Confederates to surrender the strategic Mississippi River port of Vicksburg (where we also visited on the FHMA tour). The victories at Gettysburg and Vicksburg turned the tide of the war in the Union's favor, and while the fighting went on almost another two years, the chances of a Confederate victory had largely evaporated.

I am a Gettysburg nut, and could go on forever, but I won't. Suffice it to say if you're interested in more on this topic, I'd recommend "The Killer Angels," by Michael Shaara or "Gettysburg," by Stephen W. Sears. The four-hour film "Gettysburg" is also excellent, and generally historically accurate, though it adds some fictional characters into the mix.

After leaving Gettysburg, we made the long drive through Harrisburg, Hazelton and Dunder Mifflin's hometown of Scranton, Pa., before crossing into New York and setting down in Newburgh, N.Y., located about an hour north of New York City.

ROAD SCRAPS

•  This isn't really related to the trip, but since we alluded to the fact we arrived home Thursday to find we had no water, a broken invisible fence and other problems with our home, I figured we should close the book on that. The well people -- we're on well water -- arrived around 8:45am on Friday, and identified the problem as a broken piece attached to our well pump. Of course, that piece could not be replaced without replacing the entire pump. Wonderful. The Verizon FIOS folks who had been running wires through our backyard while we were gone fessed up to cutting the wires to our invisible fence. They promised to fix it before they left, and then disappeared without doing so. Joan called the invisible fence people and they came and fixed it, as Verizon's expense. This took a while, which meant that most of the time we were home, Fred and Hank were locked in the house and could only be brought out on a leash. This may explain why they seemed to eager to get back in the car. Of course, it doesn't mean they didn't have any fun while at home.
  

Hank fetches a tennis ball in the backyard of Chez Brady.


 Hank sits on our front porch during our two-day break at home, while Fred peers out the window from the comfort of his couch.

• While I was at my board meeting for the Online News Association, Joan got my car inspected. I'm not sure I mentioned this earlier, but we realized early in the trip that my Virginia car inspection expired in March. While I was planning to be back in Virginia before the trip was over, my car was not, so we rolled the dice and hoped we could make it home without getting nabbed. We did. But deciding not to gamble on repeating that same luck on the final three days of the trip, we decided to get it inspected. The result: FAIL. Turned out that -- as one of the Acura dealers in Arizona had suggested -- the inside treads of the two back tires were worn down to the fabric. We'd ignored the original warning because we found that dealership incompetent in every other respect, and the next dealership we went to said the tires had plenty of miles left in them. But, as they say, even a broken clock is right twice a day. Guess we should have listened.
• After getting the bad news on the car inspection, Joan decided to take the car to the dealer for a 7pm Friday appointment so that they could fix the tires, check the alignment and give the car a 60,000-mile checkup. All that was wonderful, but the truth is, the most important part of the service was the free car wash. After Fred and Hank's poop-eating and poop-rolling on Thursday, the car required more cleaning than we had the stomach for. Joan returned to the dealer at 10:30pm -- I was still at a board dinner -- and waited for it until 11:15pm. Beyond what we already knew, turned out the car also had a slightly bent wheel that we'll need to deal with when we're home for good.
• On Saturday, while I went back to D.C. for the second day of my ONA meeting, Joan attended a Fairfax Families4Kids 5K Walk to celebrate National Foster Care Awareness month. The money raised benefited children in foster care in Fairfax County, Va. Joan has been doing work for Fairfax Families4Kids for years, and we lucked out that I needed to be back in town for my meeting, since it allowed Joan to attend this event. The walk was held at Lake Accotink Park in Springfield, Va. If you live in the area and haven't been there, Joan reports that it's a beautiful -- and free -- county park with a lake, walking trails, mini-golf, a carousel and snack bar. 
  

The Fairfax Families4Kids crew at its 5K walk in Springfield, Va.

Mark, one of the kids in the Fairfax Families4Kids program, hangs out at Lake Accotink Park.

Alex, one of the kids in the Fairfax Families4Kids program, hangs out with a beagle that is not actually Fred. This beagle is named Joy. Fred and Hank did not attend the 5K walk so that Joan had some hands free to take photos.

• Reader "everytenth" corrected me on my William H. Taft reference in my last post. I said Taft was the only person ever to serve at President of the United States, and Chief Justice of the U.S. Supreme Court. The proper title is Chief Justice of the United States. Thanks for the catch.
  
• I also noted in my last post that only 43 men have served as President of the United States. Being that President Obama is our 44th president, that led to a few e-mails asking me if I was deranged. But, alas, I am correct. Because Grover Cleveland was elected to two non-consecutive terms -- in 1884 and 1892, with Benjamin Harrison sandwiched in between -- he is technically both the 22nd and 24th President of the United States. And while he was not a small man, he was indeed only one man.
  
• Right of the edge of the battlefield at Antietam stands the Battleview Deli. This establishment affords views of the fields where thousands died brutally, which you can enjoy while eating your roast beef sandwich. Maybe it's just me, but seemed like an odd name for a dining establishment.
  
• Once again on Sunday, we came back to the car after a short walk to find our hazard lights blinking. The first time this happened, we originally thought our alarm had gone off while we were gone, but we soon realized what had actually happened: During their manic barking at something walking past the car, Fred or Hank had jumped up on the dashboard and turned them on. Joan surmised that maybe they were protesting being left in the car, and turned the hazards on to attract attention to their plight. Who knows? As far as we know, neither has operated the horn yet, so we have that going for us, which is nice.
• Sign of the Day: You can't read it in the photo, but the sign posted on the front of the rock in the photo said, "Please Do Not Climb This Rock." It was big, it was clear, and it could not be missed. Except by this numb-nutz.

A stupid person poses with Gouverneur K. Warren at Little Round Top at Gettysburg National Military Park. This woman literally had to climb over the sign to get where she is. If only Warren and his sword were real.

MUSIC REPORT

• Random iPod shuffle song of the day: "Captain Jack," by Billy Joel. As I mentioned earlier in the trip, I grew up right near Billy Joel, and us Long Islanders were listening to him long before the rest of the country. This song, off Joel's 1973 classic "Piano Man," is one of my favorite songs of his, and hearkens back to Joel's early days, when he recorded longer, more storytelling-focused tunes. But while I loved the song even as a kid, I did not then realize the song is about a drug addict who sometimes masturbates. Listening to the song today, I'm not quite sure how I missed this fact. But, hey, I didn't realize the Village People were gay for a long time either.
• Here's the Day 13 report on our A-to-Z iPod Exploration:
  
  • First Song of the Day: "Cracklin' Rosie," by Neil Diamond.
    Last Song of the Day: "Daysleeper," by R.E.M.
  • Best Songs: "Crazy Train," by Ozzy Osbourne; "Cross Road Blues," by Robert Johnson; "Crosstown Traffic'," by Jimi Hendrix; "Cruel to Be Kind," by Nick Lowe; "Dance the Night Away," by Van Halen; "Dangerous Type," by The Cars; "Danny Says," by The Ramones; "Daughter," by Pearl Jam; "Dawn," by Mahavishnu Orchestra; "A Day in the Life," by The Beatles.
  • Pleasant Surprises: "Crazy Arms," by Duane Eddy; "Cruise Control," by the Dixie Dregs; "Cry, Cry, Cry," by Johnny Cash; "Day of Celebration," by Santana.
  • Guilty Pleasures: "Cracklin' Rosie," by Neil Diamond; "Dance With Me," by Orleans; "Dancing Queen," by ABBA; "Daydream," by the Lovin' Spoonful; "Daydream Believer," by The Monkees.
  • Bad Songs by Good Artists: "Crosseyed and Painless," by Talking Heads; "The Crunge," by Led Zeppelin; "Cygnus X-1," by Rush; "Darlington County," by Bruce Springsteen.
  • Great Rediscoveries: "Crimson and Clover," by Joan Jett & The Blackhearts; "Crossfire," by the Scorpions; "Cryin'," by Aerosmith; "D.O.A.," by Van Halen; "Day After Day," by The Pretenders.

MEAL REPORT

• Lunch: Five Guys Burgers & Fries, Herndon, Va.: OK, so we didn't quite get out of Virginia as early as we wanted, so we used that as a convenient excuse to hit Five Guys. Despite its recent vermin problem in D.C., we went to show solidarity. Sort of. We didn't go to one of the locations where vermin were found, but to our local, rat-free Five Guys. As always, the burger and fries were terrific. We're still in the tank. Jim Nutrition Rating: 0 stars (out of 5). Restaurant Rating: 4.5 stars (out of 5). 
• Dinner: Ruby Tuesday, Gettysburg, Pa.: With a long drive to New York ahead of us, we decided to settle for quick, dependable meal. I had shrimp scampi with a small steak, and Joan had the salad bar, ribs and mashed potatoes. We walked away quite satisfied and bloated. Jim Nutrition Rating: 2 stars (out of 5). Restaurant Rating: 3 stars (out of 5).

HOTEL REPORT

• Quality Inn Newburgh, Newburgh, N.Y.: Once we got a feel for Newburgh as a town, we certainly didn't have a good feeling about the hotel. As expected, the hotel was crappy. On the bright side, we didn't pay for it, as we cashed in some Choice Hotels points. We even got a suite, which meant two rooms instead of one. But, as Dennis Miller once said about two-for-the-price-of-one deals, "Two of shit is shit." Our "suite" was merely two adjoining rooms, each with separate doors to the outside and a door connecting them. One room was a full bedroom; the other a sitting area with a kitchen, lots of chairs (but no table) and a bed that pulled down from the wall. Needless to say, we didn't use the living room. On top of all that, the wireless we were promised did not work. Joan called the front desk, and got this helpful response: "Yeah, the whole hotel has trouble at times. The wireless only works when it wants to." I told Joan that, when we checked out the next morning, maybe we should tell them our credit card also only works when it wants to. She reminded me the room was a freebie. This helped. A little. Hotel rating: 1.5 stars (out of 5).

COMMENT OF THE DAY

From Dennis Tuttle, who points out a dubious milestone of the FHMA supper club:

• If I'm not mistaken, I believe this was the first day of the entire trip the nutrition rating took a double zilch, says he who just washed down his blood pressure medicine with a doughnut and Diet Mountain Dew.

Some would say the first double-zilch nutrition rating was long overdue, considering some of the meals I'd eaten previously. I'll save the final weigh-in for the final daily report. Yes, I am indeed worried.

BONUS BEAGLE PHOTOS

Fred at an overlook near the Burnside Bridge at Antietam.

Hank at Gettysburg. 

FHMA Day 70: Beagles on the Offensive

QUICK FACTS

• Where We Started:  Erlanger, Ky.
• Where We Ended: Great Falls, Va.
• Miles Driven: 598 (18,578 total).
• New States: West Virginia, Pennsylvania, Maryland.
• States Still to Go: 9 (New York, New Jersey, Delaware, Connecticut, Rhode Island, Massachusetts, Vermont, New Hampshire, Maine)

THE DAY'S HIGHLIGHTS

The FHMA crew began its long march to Great Falls on Thursday excited at the prospect of once again experiencing the comforts of home. Sixteen hours later, we went to bed having left that enthusiasm somewhere on the highways of the Midwest, thanks to two foul-smelling beagles, two exhausted human beings and a home lacking some bare necessities.

We started the day with some more presidential sites. I mentioned in my last daily post that Ohio holds the distinction of being the birthplace of seven presidents, second-most after Virginia's eight. Two odd facts: All seven of these presidents were elected between 1868 and 1920, and none of them -- with the possible exceptions of Ulysses S. Grant and William McKinley -- were particularly notable as presidents. But, hey, only 43 men have been president -- no, not 44, look it up -- so I'm up for any and all presidential sites.

We started with a president who wasn't actually born in Ohio, but will reside there forever. The tomb of William Henry Harrison -- born at Berkeley Plantation in Charles City, Va., which we visited on FHMA Day 3 -- resides at the Harrison Tomb State Memorial in North Bend, Ohio. Harrison, the nation's ninth president, died after only one month in office, which makes him a shoo-in for the worst First 100 Days ever.

William Henry Harrison's tomb in North Bend, Ohio.

Only four blocks away sits the birthplace of William Henry Harrison's godson, Benjamin Harrison, our 23rd president. The home where Harrison was born has long since been demolished, but there's a small marker at the site. 

Next, we headed into Cincinnati, where we stopped at the William H. Taft National Historic Site, which is largely comprised of the home where Taft -- our 27th president, from 1909 to 1913 -- was born and lived for most of his first 25 years. I went in to get some information, bringing the total number of visitors to ... well ... one. The National Park Service ranger, doing his best Maytag repairman impression, asked whether I wanted a tour. Normally, one doesn't get a private tour of a former president's house, but this was not the day for long stops, so I had to pass. I almost felt bad for the poor ranger, although he was probably just as happy to go back to his crossword puzzle and dream of one day being sent to Springfield, Ill. to work at Lincoln's home. It is worth noting, however, that while his presidency wasn't particularly memorable, Taft is the only person to ever serve as president and Chief Justice of the U.S. Supreme CourtUnited States.

The home where William H. Taft was born. Unlike more presidential homes, it does not have a fancy schmancy name. (Photo by Jim)

After lunch in downtown Cincinnati, we crossed the Taylor-Southgate Bridge and back into Kentucky. We decided our stop there would be the James Taylor Park, which is named after a general and not a wimpy folk singer. The park features nice views of the Cincinnati skyline and the Ohio River.  

 

 

Fred plays deep left field at Cincinnati's Great American Ballpark, in a shot taken from the General James Taylor Park in Newport, Ky.

 While the park did afford nice views of Cincinnati, it had nothing else going for it. There were some shady characters hanging around the parking lot. It didn't smell particularly good. And it was disgustingly filthy. Unfortunately, one of the ways we discovered this was when we found Fred eating poop that Joan diagnosed -- and don't ask me how, because I don't want to know -- as human feces. This made us yearn for the good old days -- like Wednesday -- where Fred merely chewed a bone and snarled at us. Unfortunately, Fred's poo-poo platter was just the beginning of the dogs' efforts to make our drive home as unpleasant as possible.

A bird attempts to get as far away as possible from the General James Taylor Park in Newport, Ky.

Agreeing that Fred's feces buffet at Taylor Park was a sign that it was time to go home, we bypassed a planned detour to see the birthplace of Ulysses S. Grant in Moscow, Ohio, and hit the interstate. As we were heading up I-71, it occurred to us that we hadn't gotten pictures of the beagles anywhere in Ohio, so we decided to stop at a park in Columbus to get the pictures and give them some off-leash time. We picked Schiller Park, near the city's German Village. Unlike the park in Kentucky, this was a pretty city park, with ponds, lots of open grass and some bridges. There was even some fun wildlife watching, as one of the ponds was graced with a pack of about 12 baby ducks.

Mom trails closely behind two baby ducks in a pond at Schiller Park in Columbus, Ohio.

Now, ducks are very cute, but unfortunately, cute animals poop too. So the grass on the edge of the pond was filled with duck poop, which made it a minefield for humans and heavenly for beagles. One of the unpleasant realities of owning dogs is that, if they see something that has recently died or recently come out of another animal's butt, they must roll in it. Alas, while Joan was taking some photos and looking away, Fred decided to take a duck poop bath. That was all well and good; sometimes the dogs catch you sleeping and you have to deal with the smell. The real mistake she made was deciding to let him do it again. She then chose art over practicality, and decided to capture Fred's joy-filled moment.

Fred partakes in the joy that is known as poop-rolling. Thankfully, Hank is merely sniffing...

Until now.

After a few minutes of this fun, we got the dogs off their backs and herded them into the car. And as soon as we closed the car doors, the magnitude of our mistake became quite clear. Both dogs smelled like death, and we were still eight hours from home. We used some Handi Wipes to take off the surface stank, but it was like trying to clean Chernobyl with a mop. Eventually, we just decided to floor it and get home as quickly as possible. But we still had one more state that we needed to deal with: West Virginia.

As I've mentioned before, the rules are simple: We have to stop and see something in a state for it to count, and also need photos of the dogs in every state. Our place to stop in West Virginia: the Wheeling Suspension Bridge, in Wheeling, W. Va. When it was completed in 1849, it was the longest suspension bridge in the world. The title only lasted two years, however, until the Lewiston-Queenston Bridge over the Niagara River was completed. Designated a National Historic Landmark in 1975, the Wheeling Suspension Bridge remains the oldest suspension bridge in the country used by automobiles.

The Wheeling Suspension Bridge crosses the Ohio River in Wheeling, W. Va. (Photo by Jim)

Two nasty-smelling beagles pose in front of the Wheeling Suspension Bridge. As you can tell, as we get closer to the end of the trip, our state-specific photo ops and getting lazier and lazier. Hey, you try doing this for 10 weeks.

Once we were able to cross West Virginia off the list, it was time for dinner and a dead drive home, so that I could get some sleep before my 9am meeting on Friday. In order to give me time to get caught up on some blog writing, Joan actually did the bulk of the driving, taking us all the way from Cincinnati to Grantsville, Md., at which point I took over. And, at a little after 12:30am, to the sounds of Neil Young's "Cowgirl in the Sand," the tired, smelly, grumpy, unkempt FHMA crew pulled into our driveway together for the first time since March 6. We were too tired to celebrate. Plus, the entire northeast was still out there, waiting to be conquered.

ROAD SCRAPS

• Great blog post from washingtonpost.com's Ed O'Keefe on a whiz that recently left a mark on Yellowstone National Park. Apparently, three employees of a park concessionaire decided to pee into Old Faithful, clearly unaware of the Web cam that keeps an eye on the geyser. Apparently, someone was watching the Web cam when this incident occurred, and pissed off, decided to call the park. Hopefully, these three idiots will get fired. Ah, if only Old Faithful had chosen that moment to break from the rigid schedule its become so famous for. And, yes, I know what you're thinking: The incident occurred on May 4. We were at Yellowstone on May 6. I have a number of people who can vouch for my whereabouts on May 4.
• Brian Murphy passed on this unfortunate news about our beloved Five Guys Burgers & Fries. Apparently, the Dupont Circle and Georgetown stores are having some vermin problems. This is indeed bad news, but our vote still stays with Five Guys over In 'N' Out Burger. In fact, I was impressed with the straightforward, honest way that Five Guys addressed the problem.
• We've been to so many places between our 2003 and 2009 journeys, it made me wonder which large cities in the United States I still have not been to. Looking at the top 100 urban areas in the country, I now have not been to only the following: Dayton, Ohio (No. 52), Akron, Ohio (60), Grand Rapids, Mich. (67), McAllen, Tex. (70), Wichita, Kan. (76), Columbia, S.C. (77), Des Moines, Iowa (85), Chattanooga, Tenn. (90) and Augusta, Ga. (92). Joan's biggest uncharted urban area: Sacramento, Calif. (No. 28).
• Random trivia fact I encountered on Thursday: The Ohio city of Xenia is the only city in the United States starting with the letter "X" that has a population over 5,000 people.

 MUSIC REPORT

• Random iPod shuffle song of the day: "Statesboro Blues," by The Allman Brothers Band. My love of the Allmans has been well-established on this trip, so I don't think I need to say much more here, other than that we passed within about 10 miles of Statesboro on this trip. Related note: We also did some time on Highway 41 (technically U.S.-41) that the Allmans made famous in "Ramblin' Man," with the lyrics "I was born in the backseat of a Greyhound bus rollin' down Highway 41."
• Here's the Day 12 report on our A-to-Z iPod Exploration:
  
  • First Song of the Day: "Cocaine Blues," by Johnny Cash.
    Last Song of the Day: "Cowgirl in the Sand," by Neil Young.
  • Best Songs: "Come Sail Away," by Styx; "Come Talk to Me," by Peter Gabriel; "Comfortably Numb," by Pink Floyd (one of the greatest songs of all time, in my opinion); "Coming Up Close," by Til Tuesday; "Complicated," by Avril Lavigne; "Confrontation," by Tangerine Dream; "Corduroy," by Pearl Jam; "The Core," by Eric Clapton; "Cortez the Killer," by Neil Young; "Couldn't Stand the Weather," by Stevie Ray Vaughan; "Countdown," by Rush (yes, Rebecca, another Rush tune); "Countin' on a Miracle," by Bruce Springsteen; "Courtroom," by BT (from "Monster").
  • Pleasant Surprises: "The Cosmic Game," by Thievery Corporation; "Cotton Tail," by Duke Ellington; "County Fair," by Bruce Springsteen.
  • Guilty Pleasures: "Colour My World," by Chicago; "Come and Get It," by Badfinger; "Come and Get Your Love," by Redbone; "Come On Eileen," by Dexy's Midnight Runners; "Could It Be I'm Falling in Love," by The Spinners; "Could It Be Magic," by Barry Manilow (yes, Barry Manilow. So sue me). 
  • Bad Songs by Good Artists: "Come Back," by the J. Geils Band; "Come on Baby," by Moby; "Conquistador," by Procol Harum; "Cover Me," by Bruce Springsteen.
  • Great Rediscoveries: "Come Dancing," by The Kinks; "The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill," by The Beatles; "Could This Be Magic?," by Van Halen.

MEAL REPORT

• Lunch: Skyline Chili, Cincinnati, Ohio: We haven't had much chili on this trip, and what better place to get Cincinnati-style chili than Cincinnati. Cincinnati chili is served over spaghetti and intended as more of a sauce than traditional chili. Texas chili is an altogether different thing. We each got beans and cheese in addition to the chili and spaghetti. I was impressed, Joan felt it lacked some taste. But the service was wonderful, as our waitress gave us the history of Cincinnati chili and good recommendations on how to order. Jim Nutrition Rating: 1.5 star (out of 5). Only because it wasn't a particularly big meal. Restaurant Rating: 3.5 stars (out of 5). Joan would have given the place a 3, I thought it was more like a 4. We compromised.
• Dinner: Sbarro, Claysville, Pa.: We wanted to eat quickly, since we still had a long drive ahead of us, and when we saw a Sbarro sign soon after crossing into Pennsylvania, all seemed right with the world. It turned out the Sbarro was in a truck stop, which wasn't necessarily an issue, since most Sbarros are inside some kind of larger rest stop anyway. But the first tip-off this might not go well came when we walked into the truck stop and saw this was a mini-mini-Sbarro, with only a few slices of pizza laying around. The truck stop was also completely filthy. But we didn't want to waste time looking for anything else, so we each ordered a couple of slices and sodas. I got my soda cup, walked over to the fountain to dispense, and encountered an OUO (odor of unknown origin). Our stanky dogs were in the car, so it wasn't them. I never did figure out what it was, and am still unclear how a soda fountain can smell so bad. Then, the booth we sat in looked like it had last been cleaned during a Jimmy Hoffa visit in the 1960s. And, yet, after all that -- wouldn't you know it? -- our pizza ... well, it completely sucked. Jim Nutrition Rating: 1 stars (out of 5). And for what? Restaurant Rating: 0.5 stars (out of 5). The pizza was probably worth at least a 1, but the nastiness of the place as a whole was a fat old zero.

HOTEL REPORT

• Hotel Brady, Great Falls, Va.: Wow, what a dump. We arrived at this establishment to find that it had no water of any kind. No hot water. No cold water. This made washing off two hellish-smelling beagles quite difficult. We had to drain the half a bucket of water we begged from the pipes and wipe them down with a rag. On top of that, the lack of water meant Joan could not do any laundry. Plus, this place had no frequent stay membership. And the pool wasn't even open. All in all, a completely unpleasant experience. We're planning on having a chat with the proprietors, though I hear the guy can be a real asshole. Hey, at least the wireless worked. Hotel rating: 1 star (out of 5). You don't want to stay there.

COMMENT OF THE DAY

From Rebecca Chanin, on the A-to-Z iPod exploration:

•  Is it just my imagination, or is there a Rush track every day in the list of "Best Songs of the Day," regardless of the letter of the alphabet you are on? (Granted, the progress is slow in moving down the letters, due to your impressively massive and varied music collection)

Hey, I've been pretty open about my Rush fanaticism. When you have every album made by a band that's been together for 35 years, you tend to collect a lot of songs. So, yes, there are a lot of Rush tunes on the list. All part of my subtle quest for induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

 

JOAN PIC OF THE DAY

A duck gets some exercise at General James Taylor Park in Newport, Ky. If he's smart, he's running away from that park for good.

BONUS BEAGLE PHOTOS

Fred looks back at a young girl walking behind him at Schiller Park in Columbus, Ohio. Fred was right to be wary; about five minutes later, this young hellion grabbed the scruff of his back and yanked on it, generating a startled and pained yelp from Fred.

FHMA Day 69: Between a Bone and a Hard Place

QUICK FACTS

• Where We Started:  Chicago, Ill.
• Where We Ended: Erlanger, Ky.
• Miles Driven: 420 (17,980 total).
• New States: Indiana, Michigan, Ohio, Kentucky.
• States Still to Go: 12 (West Virginia, Pennsylvania, Maryland, New York, New Jersey, Delaware, Connecticut, Rhode Island, Massachusetts, Vermont, New Hampshire, Maine)

THE DAY'S HIGHLIGHTS

A good night's sleep in Chicago refreshed an exhausted FHMA crew, which then managed to knock four states off its list while zigzagging through the Midwest. But it wasn't a day without stress, as it was Fred's turn to make a complete ass of himself, though at least he was smart enough to choose a deserted park in Michigan -- and not Lake Shore Drive -- for his implosion.

After my boorish behavior Tuesday night, I decided sleep was the best medicine, so I crashed quickly when we got to our hotel room. I woke up feeling as refreshed as one can feel after nine weeks on the road. Joan got up early to walk the dogs, and as soon as that task was completed, everyone but me decided more shut-eye was needed.

Fred, Hank and Joan catch a morning nap at the W Chicago Lakeshore. Even if I wanted to get more shut-eye, it obviously wasn't an option. (Photo by Jim)

Our original plan had been to get to Grand Rapids, Mich., on Tuesday night. Because we fell far short of that goal, we had to abandon our plan to go to the Gerald R. Ford Presidential Museum there. Instead, we decided to hang close to Lake Michigan and check out some interesting parks alongside it. But the weather spoiled those plans, as the dark skies and steady rain that have been following us for most of the past week appeared again, dumping one of the bigger storms on us. So we scrapped our visit to the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore in Porter, Ind. The weather had started to improve by the time we hit the Michigan state line, so we set the nav for Warren Dunes State Park in Sawyer, Mich., only to find the beach closed because of flooding. Next, we tried Grand Mere State Park in Stevensville, Mich., but the only way to get to the water there was a one-mile hike that we didn't have time for. Increasingly frustrated, yet still determined to do something in Michigan, we finally found a small park next to North Lake in Stevensville. No one else was there, so we let the boys off leash. This worked fine for a few minutes, as Fred and Hank freely wandered the park, leaving their marks on Michigan. The humans wandered the park taking some photos. 

Some geese and goslings hang out on North Lake in Stevensville, Mich.

Since we want to have pictures of the dogs in each of the 48 states we're visiting, we decided it was time to set up the canine photo op. Joan and I walked down to a small dock on the lake, and deeming it sufficient, called Fred and Hank to join us. Hank came immediately. Fred was nowhere to be found. 

After calling Fred a half-dozen times, we finally saw him emerge from behind a picnic table with something in his mouth. Unfortunately, it was a bone of some kind. Fred does not let us take bones from him. He's pretty good at dropping most everything else, but if he's got a bone, we've got a problem. Nonetheless, we moved in to see if we could get him to drop it. As expected. Fred started that low rumble of a growl and bared his teeth at us, ready to snap if we got any closer. We didn't. After some debate, I suggested we just let him chew the bone until he was done, and not risk another ugly incident. While I felt much better mentally than I had Tuesday night, it was unlikely I would handle being bitten by my own dog particularly well. Joan made a few other attempts to talk Fred into surrendering the bone, but it wasn't going to happen. So we decided to do the photo shoot without Fred, and left to walk around the rest of the park while he chewed away.

Hank and Jim look out over North Lake in Stevensville, Mich. 

Hank goes off-road to check out a scent at North Lake Park.

Once we took our photos, we were ready to go. Fred was not. He was still working his way through the bone, though also keeping a close eye on where we were. After another attempt to get the bone back was unsuccessful, I decided to be mean. Joan, Hank and I got in the car and we left. OK, not really, we just drove away and hid behind a building for a little while to see how Fred reacted. As it turns out, the joke was on us. He noticed we were gone, but didn't seem to care. We finally came out from behind the building and pulled into the parking lot next to where Fred was chowing down. At this point, Fred had been working on this bone for damn near a half hour, and we really needed to leave. So, yet again, we tried to get Fred to surrender the bone. He continued to bare his teeth, though seemed confused that my response each time he bared his teeth was to laugh in his face.

I tried running at him to see if I could scare him away from the bone. That failed. A few other ideas also failed. Finally, Joan came up with a new plan. Armed with some treats and a poop bag, she approached Fred. She dropped a few treats near him, hoping to draw him far enough from the bone that she could grab it. We'd left Hank in the car so we could execute this complicated strategy, but Joan had left her passenger-side window open to talk to Fred from the car, and Hank decided he didn't want to miss this. So he leaped from the window of the car. That would have been fine, but then he started eating the treats Joan was putting down for Fred. Sigh.

But Joan is persistent, far more than I am. After many unsuccessful attempts with dog treats -- and having to listen to me telling her it wasn't going to work -- Joan abandoned the dog treats and dropped a black licorice Jujyfruit. Now we all know no humans eat black Jujyfruits -- which is why they were available for this use -- but Fred couldn't resist it. He sidled slowly away from the bone to get the candy, and in one fell swoop, Joan scooped up the bone with the poop bag, and the crisis was over. Fred, as always, immediately hung his head and came over seeking forgiveness. We weren't in a forgiving mood, so he was banished to the back seat for about 90 minutes. Any time he tried to sit on the arm rest or Joan's lap, he was sent into the back seat. Between snapping at a cute beagle on Tuesday, and being A-Hole Fred for a half hour on Wednesday, it's clear he's as tired as the rest of us.  

The combination of the bad weather and the Incident at North Lake had dropped us even further behind schedule, and our plans to make it to Indianapolis before dark were now in danger. But thanks to some lead-foot driving, and a lack of pit stops, we managed to pull into the city just as night fell and thunderstorms began. But determined to get a beagle photo from Indiana, we headed for The President Benjamin Harrison Home. The one-time residence of our relatively obscure 23rd president, the home is now a museum chronicling Harrison's life. When we arrived, the wind was howling and it was starting to rain, but when we need a picture, neither rain nor wind nor semi-darkness can stop us.

At The President Benjamin Harrison House in Indianapolis, Fred gives his best regal pose while Hank wonders when he can go back to the car and resume his eight-hour nap.

The plaque in front of The President Benjamin Harrison Home in Indianapolis. By the way, if you think my characterization of Harrison as being obscure is unfair, ask yourself this: Would you need to put the word "president" in the name of the facility if it was honoring was Lincoln, Jefferson, FDR or Reagan? (Photo by Jim)

After dinner, we decided we could not afford to get any farther behind schedule in getting home, so we made a tough two-hour ride through torrential rain to reach the Cincinnati area. When we arrived, we all went right to sleep in order to prepare for a long Thursday in the car.

ROAD SCRAPS

• It wasn't only Fred's attitude that afflicted us on Wednesday. His anal glands also spoke up again. During our drive to the Cincinnati area, he was sitting on Joan's lap checking out the scenery when that awful, di-stink-tive smell once again enveloped the car. Now, those of you who don't have dogs may not know what an anal discharge is, but surely you know it can't be good. Inside a closed car, this fluid creates a odor that is unbearable. Shortly after this offense was committed -- like about 10 seconds -- we stopped the car, and after I stuffed the compromised jeans as deep in the trunk as possible, Joan did a quick change in the car. Fred clearly needs another visit to the vet. And Joan's jeans need a visit to a sewage treatment plant.
• It's funny to see three Midwestern states trying to claim whatever part of Abraham Lincoln's legacy that they can. Illinois, of course, has it easiest, since Lincoln lived there most of his life, so its "Land of Lincoln" claim is accurate. But, on Wednesday, when we passed into Indiana, the state welcome sign touted it as "Lincoln's Boyhood Home." True, Lincoln lived in Indiana for 14 years. When we hit Kentucky, its state sign bragged about being "Lincoln's Birthplace." Yes, Lincoln was born near Hodgenville, Ky. in 1809. So there's nothing inaccurate about any of these claims, it was just funny to see everyone staking a Lincoln claim. We were surprised to see Ohio sit this out. I mean, somewhere between all these moves through the Midwest, Lincoln must have at least passed through Ohio, right? Then again, Ohio doesn't really need Lincoln. It actually is the state where the second-most presidents (seven) have been born. Virginia leads the way with eight. Who were these Ohio-born presidents, you ask? Oddly, all were elected between 1868 and 1920. They are Grant, Hayes, Garfield, Benjamin Harrison, McKinley, Taft and Harding.
  
• As we were driving through Kokomo, Ind., we saw a sign proclaiming it "City of Firsts." That sounded odd to me, so I looked it up. If you believe what you read, the name does seem apt, since the following random collection of firsts apparently occurred there: the first test-drive of a an internal-combustion engine, the first pneumatic rubber tire, the first stainless steel tableware, the first Howitzer shell, the first canned tomato juice, the first push-button car radio, the first all-transistor car radio, the first Ponderosa Steakhouse and the first Starbucks outside of a metropolitan area. Kokomo was also the site last year of "The Kokomo Boom," an incident that has been of great interest to the UFO community.
• When we parked in downtown Chicago for lunch at Lou Malnati's, I discovered that my two-hour meter would only give me 29 minutes of time no matter how much money I put in. I was all prepared to roll the dice, or come out once and add money to the meter, but Joan had a better idea: "Why don't you call the number on the meter and report it broken?" My response was honest, but probably rude: "Who the hell calls to report broken meters?" Apparently, Joan does. She told me that, if you call in a broken meter, you're covered should you get a ticket. I have no idea whether that's true, but it seemed worth a shot. So Joan called it in, we ate a leisurely lunch and got no ticket. Now, it could well be the meter people just didn't come by, but I was impressed by Joan's effort. So an FHMA public service announcement: If you're in Chicago, don't park at meter number 240114 at the intersection of Wells and Grand.
• Odd little slice-of-life story: We stopped for gas in lovely Hammond, Ind. -- yes, the "lovely" was said with tongue firmly in cheek -- and as I was pumping the gas, a gaunt, unhealthy-looking young woman wandered up and asked if I had any change. She was probably about 20, and wearing a Purdue sweatshirt and shivering in the cold rain. I gave her some change, but honestly, not much. But Joan had seen the exchange and bought the woman some coffee and a donut inside the convenience store. When Joan came out, the woman was still there, asking each new arrival at the pumps for change. So Joan approached her and gave her the coffee and donut. The woman said "thank you," and then promptly walked over and hopped into a car sitting at the pump across from ours. In it was a guy on his cell phone. Somehow the fact that she had a car changed our perception of her. It may well be that they arrived at the gas station, realized they didn't have any money, and were begging just enough to get home. But it seemed strange. Joan wasn't sure whether their reaction to her charity was to laugh at her for being such a sucker or to curse her for giving them food instead of the money it cost to buy it. I told her there was a third option: That they were truly appreciative. But who knows?

MUSIC REPORT

• Random iPod shuffle song of the day: "The Tide Is High," by Blondie. In general, I think Blondie remains one of the real underappreciated bands of the punk era. While Blondie ran with the punk crowd, it was an experimental band, as you can tell by listening to this reggae-tinged song, the early rap tune "Rapture" and the disco classic "Heart of Glass."  Did they make some bad stuff? You bet. But that'll happen when you're being experimental -- see Neil Young's rockabilly album -- and Blondie usually was.
• Here's the Day 11 report on our A-to-Z iPod Exploration:
  
  • First Song of the Day: "Check It Out," by John Mellencamp.
    Last Song of the Day: "Cocaine," by Eric Clapton.
  • Best Songs: "Cinderella Man," by Rush; "Cinnamon Girl," by Neil Young; "Circumstances'," by Rush; "City of Dreams," by the Talking Heads; "City of New Orleans," by Arlo Guthrie; "Clocks," by Coldplay; "Closer to the Heart," by Rush; "Cocaine," by Eric Clapton.
  • Pleasant Surprises: "Christmas in Rio," by Stanley Clarke; "The Cliffs of Sydney," by Tangerine Dream; "Cloudless," by Peter Gabriel.
  • Guilty Pleasures: "The Closer I Get to You," by Roberta Flack and Donny Hathaway.
  • Bad Songs by Good Artists: "Choice in the Matter," by Aimee Mann; "Climbing Up the Walls," by Radiohead.
  • Great Rediscoveries: "Christmas in Hollis," by Run-DMC; "Cliffs of Dover," by Eric Johnson; "Close to Me," by The Cure; "Cluster One," by Pink Floyd; "Coast to Coast," by the Scorpions.

MEAL REPORT

• Lunch: Lou Malnati's Pizzeria, Chicago, Ill.: I've been to Lou Malnati's a few times for deep-dish pizza, and wanted Joan to get a taste. As always, I was happy with the tasty, cheesy pizza. Joan liked it, but since she's not a huge deep-dish fan, there was only so much joy this meal could bring her. Jim Nutrition Rating: 0 stars (out of 5). Mozzarella cheese sticks and a pepperoni pizza. I have no case for even a half=star. Restaurant Rating: 3.5 stars (out of 5).
• Dinner: Mug 'N' Bun, Indianapolis, Ind.: The Mug 'N' Bun is the oldest drive-in in indianapolis, and you signal you're ready to order by turning on your car lights. We were lucky to get any food at all, since the restaurant had just decided to close early because of thunderstorms. But they were willing to serve us as long as it was to go. So Joan got a grilled cheese sandwich, onion rings and a chocolate milkshake. I got -- what else? -- a burger and fries. Jim Nutrition Rating: 1 stars (out of 5). Restaurant Rating: 3.5 stars (out of 5). Joan liked her grilled cheese and milkshake, but was disappointed by the onion rings, though the dogs seemed to like them fine. I was happy with my burger and fries, but it wasn't a meal that'll make our post-trip list of "bests." The fact the place was shutting down right as we arrived could not have helped.

HOTEL REPORT

• Baymont Inn & Suites Cincinnati Airport, Erlanger, Ky.: Even one day later, neither Joan nor I can remember much about this hotel. Part of that is because we're wiped out. Part of it is because it was such a perfectly average hotel experience. Nothing horrible, nothing great. The few shreds we can remember: The room didn't smell great. The woman at the front desk loved the dogs. It had a comfortable recliner. Everything else is fuzzy. One thing I know didn't happen: I didn't have a hissy fit in front of this hotel. Hotel rating: 3 stars (out of 5).

COMMENT OF THE DAY

From Janet H.:

 

• While looking through a magazine today, I saw this and checked out the link: http://dogbarkparkinn.com/ . Too bad Fred and Hank missed spending the night in Cottonwood, ID at the Dog Bark Park Inn inside the world's biggest beagle! Maybe next trip!
  

Ah, you underestimate us! We learned about the world's biggest beagle before our 2003 trip, so we did make a swing by Cottonwood then, though we didn't stay there. We couldn't make it through there this time, though.
 

Fred in front of the world's largest beagles at the Dog Bark Park Inn in Cottonwood, Idaho, on the Fred Takes America tour of 2003.

UPCOMING PLAN (subject to change)

• Monday: The FDR Library in Hyde Park, N.Y., and a swing through Vermont, New Hampshire and Maine.
• Tuesday: The final ride home down the East Coast.

 

BONUS BEAGLE PHOTO

While Fred chows down on an unidentified bone of some kind, Hank patiently poses on the dock at North Lake Park in Stevensville, Mich.

FHMA Day 68: Losing It on the Lakeshore

QUICK FACTS

 

• Where We Started:  Springfield, Ill.
• Where We Ended: Chicago, Ill.
• Miles Driven: 453 (17,560 total).
• New States: Wisconsin.
• States So Far: 32 (Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, Florida, Mississippi, Louisiana, Tennessee, Arkansas, Missouri, Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, Colorado, Utah, Nevada, California, Oregon, Washington, Idaho, Wyoming, Montana, North Dakota, South Dakota, Minnesota, Iowa, Nebraska, Kansas, Illinois, Wisconsin)

THE DAY'S HIGHLIGHTS

A fun Tuesday that included a tour of the Land of Lincoln, visits to some early Ronald Reagan sites, great meals and some live music ended unfortunately, as one of the human members of the FHMA crew lost it in front a fancy hotel in Chicago's Lake Shore Drive.

The first mission of the day was exploring three Lincoln sites in Springfield, Ill. We started at the Lincoln Home National Historic Site, the heart of which is the home where Lincoln lived before heading to Washington. The entire block around Lincoln's home is also part of the site, and each preserved home is adorned with a sign that explains who lived there in Lincoln's time and what their relationship to Lincoln was.

Abraham Lincoln's home in Springfield, Ill.

Because we had such a full day ahead, we decided not to wait a half hour for a tour of the home, and instead, headed a few blocks to the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library & Museum. Because of the temperature, Joan decided to hang with the dogs and her KIndle in a park across the street. The library and museum are in separate buildings, so I decided to start in the museum. It was quite impressive, although -- for reasons never explained -- you can't take photos anywhere other than the atrium. The museum even managed to get away with using wax figures. I usually find the use of wax figures to be a fatal flaw for any serious museum, as it tends to make them feel too Disney-ish. But, for whatever reason, these worked for me.

The Wax Lincoln family. (Photo by Jim)

The museum, which just opened in 2005, has in fact been criticized by some for being too-Disneyesque, partially because of the wax figures and re-enactments, but I found it to be quite effectively done. It was respectful, well-done, informative and full of interesting information and artifacts. The only thing that did surprise me was the prominent role granted to John Wilkes Booth. Obviously, one can't talk about Lincoln's life with referencing Booth, but he gets an awful lot of air time in the museum. He was given one of the choice wax slots out in the museum atrium, and inside the museum, there was a wax re-creation of the assassination at Ford's Theatre.

John Wilkes Booth at the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library & Museum in Springfield, Ill. (Photo by Jim)

The two most famous of Lincoln's many Civil War army chiefs: Gen. George B. McClellan (left) and Gen. Ulysses S. Grant. Lincoln replaced McClellan after Antietam, largely because he was frustrated he wouldn't fight Lee. Lincoln then went through a handful of army chiefs before finally putting Grant in charge of all Union forces in 1864. (Photo by Jim)

By the time I finished at the museum, I'd lingered too long to go to the library. So off we went to Oak Ridge Cemetery to see Lincoln's tomb. Because of Lincoln's presence there, Oak Ridge is the nation's second most-visited cemetery (after Arlington National Cemetery). It's considered to be good luck to rub the nose of the bronze Lincoln bust in front of the tomb, and because of that, the bronze has been rubbed away completely.

Jim touches Lincoln's nose for good luck. Let's just say the good luck didn't last the day.

The obelisk and statues above Lincoln's tomb at Oak Ridge Cemetery in Springfield, Ill.

Although there was still a ton of Lincoln stuff left to see in Springfield, time was getting away from us, so we had to keep moving. After lunch, we headed northwest to see Ronald Reagan's birthplace and boyhood home. Reagan was born in a second-floor apartment on Main Street in tiny Tampico, Ill., where his father was working at a variety store. While Tampico does herald the fact Reagan was born here, it seemed understated. Yes, there's a marker outside the second-floor window where he was born, a large mural across the street and a small Ronald Reagan Birthplace Museum. But it was all pretty spare, compared to the most of the presidential birthplaces we've seen. Part of the reason may be that Reagan's two stints living in Tampico were brief. But you'd think that Tampico -- a sleepy, dusty place -- would better milk its piece of history. 

Hank poses in front of the Ronald Reagan Birthplace Museum in Tampico, Ill.

The mural across the street from Reagan's birthplace in Tampico, Ill. Nancy is probably wondering who the guy next to her is, since, to me, he only looks vaguely like Ronald Reagan. (Photo by Jim)

The next stop was the Ronald Reagan Boyhood Home in Dixon, lll., where Reagan lived from when he was 9 through high school. In addition to the house, there's a Reagan statue on site as well.

The Ronald Reagan Boyhood Home, in Dixon, Ill. (Photo by Jim)

Next, it was time for a brief invasion of Wisconsin. The planned destination there was Lake Geneva, a resort town in southeastern portion of the state that, in the 1950s, was a finalist to become the location of the Air Force Academy. Lake Geneva lost out to Colorado Springs, Colo., and as a result, has remained a small, obscure, pretty resort town. But, as we got close to Lake Geneva, it became clear that the light wasn't going to hold out, and since we decided we needed to do something in every state and also get pictures of the dogs in every state, we went to Plan B: Delavan Lake in Delavan, Wis. There, we gave the dogs some off-leash time, which they took advantage of it, chasing each other around and playing some. And, of course, they posed.

Hank in front of Lake Delavan in Delavan, Wis.

We then drove two hours to Chicago, where we had a late dinner. While we were eating, I got an e-mail from a friend, Adrian Holovaty. He'd seen that we were headed to Chicago and let me know he was playing guitar Tuesday night at a club with a gypsy-jazz band, Alfonso Ponticelli & Swing Gitan. So we stopped by and watched half a set, chatted with Adrian and then went in search of a hotel. If we'd just chosen a nice, cheap hotel, the day would have come to a quiet, uneventful conclusion. But I pushed to stay at a nicer hotel, and with that, planted the seeds of my own meltdown.

It took Joan a little while to work out a deal with the W Chicago Lakeshore over the phone, so when we finally pulled up to the hotel, it was late and I was beat. Immediately upon pulling into the hotel, Fred starting barking like crazy at the uniformed bellmen. Soon, Hank joined in. For some reason, uniformed people seem to freak Fred out. Nonetheless, I did not find this barking humorous, and I started yelling at the dogs to shut up. They did not, and the thin wire that was keeping me from blowing up continued to fray.

Because our plans came together so late, we were not prepared with clothes for the following day, and since we were going to valet the car, Joan needed to pull some clothes from the trunk, so while she did that, I took both dogs for a short jaunt. Not too far from the front of the hotel, we came across a woman walking a beagle. As tense as I was, this seemed like it would be a nice interlude. So the woman stopped, we had the obligatory conversation about how great beagles are and let the dogs sniff each other. All was well until Fred went after the other beagle, teeth bared. Now, in fairness to Fred, I understand why he gets jumpy at times. Ever since his knee surgeries, Fred has been protective of himself, and if a dog gets a little too aggressive, he tends to snap. But this usually only happens with bigger dogs. We'd never seen him snap at another beagle. In the end, Fred going after this sweet beagle was the event that led my frayed wire to snap. I yanked Fred back on his leash, and starting screaming at him. Between my yelling at the dogs as we pulled in, and this screaming fit, I'm sure the hotel staff was quite impressed with me. But, by now, I didn't care. I had gone to that dark place. When this happens, it doesn't usually last more than five minutes or so, but let's just say it can be a long five minutes for anyone who comes into my orbit. Soon, I was fine, and all was well. But my first public meltdown of the trip was not pretty, and definitely embarrassing. The truth is that the entire FHMA crew is pretty weary these days. It seems that, as we get closer and closer to end of the trip, we no longer feel the need to suppress any fatigue.

ROAD SCRAPS

• As we got off the exit to Reagan's boyhood home in Dixon, Ill., we saw a sign for the John Deere State Historic Site in nearby Grand Detour, Ill. Until that moment, I never realized John Deere was an actual person. So being the curious guy I am, I decided to learn a little more about the man behind the tractor. Turns out -- and many of you may know this, but farming history is not a strength of mine -- Deere produced the first steel plow in his Grand Detour shop in 1837, and sold the first one in 1838. By 1855, Deere was making more than 10,000 plows a year, and in 1868, incorporated as Deere & Company. He died in 1886, and by 2007, the company he created did more than $24 billion in revenue. Talk about plowing ahead.
  
• Sign of the Day, on the shoulder of Interstate 43, near Beloit, Wis.: "Emergency Parking, 2 Hour Limit." Now, let's be honest: If you're on the shoulder of an interstate, you're not there because you want to be, so its highly unlikely you'd have any control over how long you're there. If I -- the jackless jackass -- had broken down on the side of I-43 and not in Death Valley, let's just say a loitering ticket would not have been by biggest concern.
  
• A few of you took exception to my ragging on "American Idol" a few days back, when I made fun of Blue Springs, Mo. for so proudly declaring on its welcome sign that it's the home of American Idol Season 7 winner David Cook. I predicted that sign would not exist in two years. Maybe I'm wrong about that, but here's one thing I can say definitively: I will never watch the show. No interest whatsoever. And its nothing personal against "American Idol." I have never watched any reality TV show in my life. Sports is my reality TV, and it happily comes without Simon Cowell or Paula Abdul.
  
• The little signs that we're getting closer to home are kicking in. First, we're seeing a lot more 7-11s, though I have to say that my fling with QTs on this trip made me wish we had those in Virginia. Also, for the time first time since the first few days of the trip, we were able to use our E-Z Pass on the Ronald Reagan Highway in northwest Illinois.
• I mentioned in a recent post that, after passing through the raisin and ice cream capitals of the world, what I really wanted to know was the location of the Funyuns capital of the world, being that it's one of our favorite snack foods. Mark Potts found this video, which identifies the Funyuns capital of the world as Perry, Ga. The good news: I discovered there are actually some real onion products in Funyuns. I always suspected that no onion product of any kind ever got near a Funyuns factory. Bad news: Everything else in them is terrible for you.
• Matthew Greenberg passed on this photo of a family piling onto the marker at Four Corners. The photo is funny, but the overall site -- awkwardfamilyphotos.com -- is the real gem here.

MUSIC REPORT

• Random iPod shuffle song of the day: "Cadillac Ranch," by Bruce Springsteen. One of my least favorite songs off of my favorite Springsteen album, I can't quite say I don't like it, because it's got an infectious enough hook. But it's cotton candy: light and fluffy. The rest of the album is anything but light, which is why I love it so much. Let's just say you're not going to burst out laughing listening to "Point Blank," "Wreck on the Highway," or "Drive All Night."
• Here's the Day 10 report on our A-to-Z iPod Exploration:
  
  • First Song of the Day: "Carousel for Little Tamao," by Elia Cmiral (from "Ronin").
  • Last Song of the Day: "Cheap Sunglasses," by ZZ Top.
  • Best Songs: "Carouselambra," by Led Zeppelin; "Carry On," by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young; "Carry on Wayward Son," by Kansas; "Cat's in the Cradle," by Harry Chapin; "Catch Me Now I'm Falling," by The Kinks; "Caught Up in You," by .38 Special; "Celebration Day," by Led Zeppelin; "Centerfold," by the J. Geils Band; "The Chain," by Fleetwood Mac; "Champagne Supernova," by Oasis; "Changes," by Yes.
  • Pleasant Surprises: "Cause We've Ended as Lovers," by Jeff Beck; "Central Park," by Tangerine Dream; "Chaiyya Chaiyya Bollywood," by Sapna Awasthi; "Channels and Winds," by Philip Glass & Ravi Shankar; "Chant," by Hans Zimmer (from "Black Hawk Down").
  • Guilty Pleasures: "Cars," by Gary Numan; "Celebration," by Kool & the Gang.
  • Bad Songs by Good Artists: "Centerfield," by John Fogerty; "A Change Would Do You Good," by Sheryl Crow.
  • Great Rediscoveries: "An Cat Dubh," by U2; "Change," by John Waite; "Chasing the Night," by The Ramones.

MEAL REPORT

• Lunch: Cozy Dog Drive In, Springfield, Ill.: After missing out on this Roadfood joint on Monday, we stopped by for lunch Tuesday. The Cozy Dog Drive In has an important place in corn dog history. While there are multiple claims for first serving the corn dog, the Cozy claims it was the first to serve it on a stick. You can get the whole history of the corn dog here. I have no idea whether the Cozy's claims would hold up to scrutiny, though I can't find anyone filing a counterclaim on the meat-on-a-stick innovation. In the end, we didn't care about that; we were too busy enjoying these amazing corn dogs. Now, this will come as a complete shock to everyone who knows me, but I had never had a corn dog in my life before this meal. The concept never really worked for me. But count me as a convert, if they're all as crispy and delicious as these. Joan -- who is a bit of a corn dog aficionado -- gave it two huge thumbs up. Jim Nutrition Rating: 0 stars (out of 5). Restaurant Rating: 5 stars (out of 5). The fries were great as well. One of the best meals of the trip.
• Dinner: Five Guys Burgers & Fries, Oak Park, Ill.: I didn't mention earlier in this post, but Tuesday was our eighth wedding anniversary, and while we knew from the start we weren't going to do anything fancy, we still wanted to do something meaningful. It occurred to me that Chicago might have a Five Guys Burgers & Fries. Turns it out it had a bunch. So after we crossed Wisconsin off our list, we made a beeline for Oak Park. We arrived 10 minutes before closing, and happily wolfed down our first Five Guys meal in months. After we were done, we both looked at each other and nodded knowingly. Yup, to us, Five Guys is the clear burger champion in our household. Jim Nutrition Rating: -1 stars (out of 5). I'm into negative territory. Restaurant Rating: 5 stars (out of 5, on the fast-food scale).

HOTEL REPORT

• W Chicago Lakeshore, Chicago, Ill.: I think it's already been established that staying at a nice hotel when we were only going to be in Chicago for 12 hours was a bad idea. But the hotel didn't help matters much. After my meltdown in front of the hotel, we went into the lobby to check in. Joan was the only one keeping it together at this point, but the W soon was testing her as well. The clerk informed us of a $100 cleaning charge for the dogs, which was never mentioned when Joan booked the room on the phone. Starting to come down from my meltdown, I whispered to her that we should just let it go and get to the room, so we could all cool down. But Joan was having none of it, and the clerk saw the same narrowed eyes I did, and went back to talk to the manager. She returned shortly thereafter and told us the hotel would waive the fee. Score one for Joan. Unfortunately, while the hotel takes dogs, it isn't too keen on giving them a place to pee. Every patch of grass around the hotel has a sign saying dogs can't go to the bathroom there. This didn't help our collective mood. We then got to the room and found that the wireless connection sucked. Then, the air conditioning was also so loud that every time it went on, we had to turn the TV volume up, and every time it went off, we had to turn the TV volume down. Finally, it had one of those stupid showers that you can only turn on by basically standing in it. This is a problem if you don't get the temperature right on the first attempt -- and, when you're not at home, you never do. This was a disastrous stay. We only stayed at two Ws on this trip: in New Orleans, and Chicago, and both were lousy experiences. No hotel chain took a bigger hit on this trip than the W, and we've pretty much decided not to stay at any more of them. Hotel rating: 1.5 stars (out of 5, on the luxury hotel scale).

COMMENT OF THE DAY

From Neville Waters, who gives FHMA a wonderful compliment:

• I'm actually hoping that u may never find your way back home so I can continue to enjoy this saga vicariously thro a dawg's eyes...

Thanks, we really appreciate all the nice notes about the blog. We've loved doing it, and wish I had any good ideas on how to keep it going. But, at this point, I don't. Suggestions are welcome. ☺

UPCOMING PLAN (subject to change)

• Sunday: Gettysburg National Military Park and the FDR Library & Museum in Hyde Park, N.Y.
• Monday: Vermont, New Hampshire and Maine.
• Tuesday: The final ride home down I-95.

JOAN PIC OF THE DAY

A tractor plows a field near Galva, Ill.

BONUS BEAGLE PHOTOS

Fred hangs out on a bench in front of the Ronald Reagan Birthplace & Museum in dusty Tampico, Ill. Fred also likes jellybeans.