sleepy bye-byes

We ended up hanging with a birthday party.   I’m going to pretend to not remember the rest:

They’re awesome. I’d link you to some music of theirs, but I believe in your Google skills.

Yes, they have a bearded brown drummer. I thought I’d cornered the market on that shit, but alas, no.

But it still feels like a road trip. It has that familiar sting:

This is what happens when you disparage the Quebecois. They are a feisty bunch.

This is the happy couple: we only remember Jean’s name.

Of course, how can you not start lunch with a flight of bourbon … Elijah Craig, Buffalo Trace, and something else that I don’t remember. That’s what happens when you have 3 bourbons before lunch.

This is a shot of the bar.  The Brown Hotel itself, although a classic, is semi-mediocre, but the bar and the staff were wonderful.

And here it is, the Hot Brown.  The sandwich.   Mornay + Turkey + Bacon + Roasted Tomatoes + Parmesan + Texas Toast.   Foodgasm.

No air conditioning :( But we met a lovely couple who are also deep into photography – Sarah and her hubby:

We walked about silver photography, getting it right in camera and how Photoshop is for suxx0r! Long live film, and, err digital.

Having sweated enough, we moved on the the 3 Crow Bar.

Hard to see above is some magical fan that filters out smoke (yes, smoking in bars is still legal! woo-hoo!)

Obligatory.

The chick to guy ratio was kinda in our favor , but I couldn’t have another beer and Zoo was yawning. Too bad, both places looked fairly chill.

I have a very fond memory of visiting Nashville about 12 years ago. A friend of mine took me to this trashy area of Nashville to this basement of a place called the Station Inn. i heard heart-wrenchingly-beautiful bluegrass from family bands I had not listened to before, ate simple food and really just plain enjoyed the experience. I’m not dissing the Station Inn, but things have changed a bit.

Tuesday nights now belong to a hilarious country/western comedy group called Doyle and Debbie. We went without checking it out first – our cabbie let us know it was not what we were expecting, but we were in for a treat.

Ummm, and not only was it my first comedy show ever, but we were also the most junior people in the room possibly by 30 years. Nonetheless, it was pretty damn funny and they can sing their hearts out.

Hoping that next time I get to hear more bluegrass :)

Speaking of which, Zoo was looking a bit haggard and stopped into a fancy man-cleaning establishment called a barber.

It’s called Red’s Classic Barber Shop. If you are manly and in Nashville, stop in here to make yourself look presentable before going out. Nashville is a well-dressed town.

Cleans up good, don’t he?

It’s everyone’s favorite!

The sliced pork was already gone, so we opted for baloney (hot-spicy!)

and sliced beef (hot-spicy!) sandwiches.

Great road food, for sure. It was topped off by sweet tea and a slice of pumpkin pie that was to die for.

So … we went with the healthy option of bratwurst.

We sat next to the nicest inter-island couple … Aimee from England (Arsenal fan, booooo) and Barry from Ireland (Liverpool fan, yaaaaay!). Super great kids who just got engaged whilst on a road trip of their own all around the states.

After we chowed down dinner, I went for the fake happy birthday for the fourth time, also a success. This time, it was Angela’s birthday too (urrr) …

After we revealed that it wasn’t really Matt’s birthday to Angela, I wasn’t her favorite person in the world, so Barry and I went off to shoot some billiards.

I did okay, but was no match for Barry, who had a sweet short throw.

After I returned to the table, I met Jenzi, Angela’s sister, a gorgeous, statuesque and devestatingly charming belle. This is me trying to equal her statue-worthy demeanor.

I just HAD to see how long those legs were, and Jenzi was nice enough to oblige … boy would I like to climb her tree.

I’m not sure if she realized that by throwing her leg up in my arms that she was giving me masturbation material for the month of July.

And now I can officially say I got picked up in a bar by a beautiful woman on the road trip.

I know what it looks like, but I am not feeling Jenzi up. Not even a little bit.

We had a little dance, but, sadly, my people were not made for salsa, despite what Jules might say. Thanks to Mara and Kevin for inspiring the spin into sitting on my knee move.

All in all a pretty great night. Sorry for games, Angela … we’ve got waaaaay more pictures if you want us to send some.

We were both rusty, we had one legit win in the first 6 games. I’m gonna go ahead and blame sobriety on that.

While were playing we met the nice folks at the table next to us. We got their names, but we only remember Megan, mostly because she was hot. Megan, if you’re out there, remember, we’ll totally spy on your boyfriend if necessary tonight.

I skipped the tour, since we had to boogie, but upon entering the store, I saw a shit-ton of guitars… droool. I’m a Martin and Fender guy – Gibson was always the grass on the other side. So I sat and played through a bunch of them.

I gotta say I am disappointed they play the MSRP vs. street price game in the store, but I guess you have to support your sales network. Outside of that, they tune and check all the guitars, so even if you get one made in Indonesia (like I did), it comes all set up as if you went to a shop and had a local pro tune it for you.

This one is my new honey. Solid, bright, loud and shiny. Low action up the fretboard, built-in tuner and some serious electronics should I dare plug it in…

I had my first fried pickles. These had the bonus of being hot (spicy). D-Lish.

Pulled pork and beef combo sandwich,

..aaaand some more pulled pork.

Zoo liked the mustard sauce so much they put some in a container for him and divulged some of it’s ingrediential secrets.

And 2-for-1 beers wasn’t a bad deal, either :)

I gotta say, we’ve got a nose for the good shit. Only yesterday our noses pointed us to the Sub Shop, and today, we pulled off the highway needing something to nosh on … and we stumbled into Lambert’s Cafe … home of the “throwed rolls” … when we walked in we knew we’d found a special place. Even though it’s in the middle of nowhere, they were packed … probably two hundred people, maybe more, were chewing down. Pretty simple southern cooking menu … but before the meal starts, a kid chucks hot rolls at you from across the room. Then, after your meal comes, a few kids walk around handing out additional sides. This is a place where you want to have a big appetite.

We will warn you, though, there appears to be some serious lack of branches on the family trees of the patrons here. At one point, we were uncomfortable with splitting up lest they kidnapped us and used us for sperm drips to insemenate their womenfolk.

Food was generally okay, the rolls were really good, mac and tomatoes was tasty, the mashed potatoes had the right mix of butter, potatoes and gravy … Robuchon would be proud.

Lots more pics after the break …

Matt had a small crush on the girl in the Hello Kitty t-shirt and a Wizard of Oz tattoo, who did not join us on our way to Memphis.

So we did what anyone would. We bowled.

I suck at bowling. After getting my ass handed to me in England a month or so ago, it was time to get schooled by Matt and Derek, who dueled over first and second while I tried to keep my balls out of the gutter.

We didn’t get pictures of the Jehova’s Witness Brainwashing Center place of worship … but suffice to say we found it noteworthy that the main hipster drag was surrounded by proselytizing weirdness. Oh, and there’s a Starbucks.

Yum.

For the record, we had pizza in Wichita.

We walked to the bar closest to our hotel which was the chav-iest place you can imagine — America’s Pub. They patted Matt down and then told us there was a cover. When we declined and started to walk away, Matt thanked the doorman for the pat down. The doorman’s sidekick responded with “faggot!” — which is only noteworthy because it is the first time in Matt’s life that he’s been called that.

Anyway, we ended up spotting the Chimay sign outside of Buzzard Beach, and went up for a drink. It’s got a great smoking balcony, great beer selection, and a wonderful relaxed crowd. I got the whole bar to sing Matt happy birthday again, and after, we met Lola, below, who drank and chatted with us for a while …

Here we are with Lola trying to do the KC gang sign … I don’t know how I got so turned around.

Anyway, as it happens, the owner of the bar, Sam, had his birthday the next day, so we all ended up doing shots and hanging out with him and Bill who, we think, was the president of the neighborhood association or something like that. There’s more to the story, you’ll just have to hear it direct from us.

Anyway, if you’re passing through Kansas City, definitely check it out … great place, great people.

As you may well know by now, Oklahoma Joe’s BBQ is in a Gas Station. But Anthony Bourdain was not deterred by this…

Bug hurrah from the kitchen staff.

Pulled Pork, Ribs, Creamy Slaw, Onion Rings and draft Boulevard Brewing Co.’s Unfiltered Wheat Beer in the Bud cup.

Sausage, pulled pork, onion rings and the Boulevard Pilsener.

Time for a food coma. It was GLORIOUS.

There was one helluva wedding last night…

We walked the entire Old town before settling on Old Chicago.

This picture of our waitress Aimee does not do justice to the talent of midwestern tanning salons … pure orange goodness!

Then we headed down to the Pump House.

There was a cover band playing some solid 80’s hits … so I asked the lead singer (Amanda) to do a birthday song for Matt. They called him up and played “Ready For The Party” …

… which amazingly got 3 girls up for a pretty awesome chair dance …

… then a fourth girl, Jennifer AKA JC joined the fun …

Then JC and I got to lick one of the dancer’s (Allie’s) belly .. yum, Freebird.

We had to blackout Allie’s face. Apprarently she’s wanted in North Carolina.

Not sure exactly what I’m doing here, but yes, this is a girl for those who are wondering.

Sorry that the first nipples shown on the site are mine, but ya gotta do whatcha gotta do. Blame Matt for hitting the shutter a second too early.

And this is sweeeeeeeet, sweet Natalie, sister to Allie, slightly less wild, slighty more sober, but quite a charmer.

Have the queso, don’t ask questions. Just eat it fast.

Matt had the burrito …

I had the West Texas enchiladas …

Shared the awesome pulled-pork stuffed jalapeno poppers …

And this is Michael cheersing with Fernet … best service we’ve had on the road trip thus far.

We spent a day up at Buchanan Lake near Tow, TX, trying to get one shot … first there’s a vid of the early part of our setup:

This is a test shot of the scale-model skeleton …

This is the first burn test …

This is me attaching the fuse to the skeleton …

This is the first long exposure test with the front lighting…

Sometime around now, matt’s box flash took a spill in the drink (a pretty scummy pond), followed by his Nikon D700 taking a nasty fall in the mud.

This was the unintended result, a bit overexposed, eh? Well, we were outta time, outta patience and just a li’l bit frustrated. Oh well.

We first went to Fuzzy’s Corner. Douchecock racists at the bar mumbled something I couldn’t hear, but Zoo did.

Moved on to dinner at Danny’s Country Diner – a solid, family-run place with home cooking.

And then back to Fuzzy’s to show the arsewipes that their stupidity was not intimidating. Then, on to the fun…

Turns out this place is mostly for vacationing seniors. Outsiders such as us are not very often seen and much less welcome.

The brown trash in me cannot help from ordering Buffalo Chicken Tenders anytime they are on the menu.

This waitress was pretty trashy hot, sorta like a not totally fucked up Amy Winehouse …

Yes, there is a 7 foot Jackalope in the middle of the bar.

This is Kristie Bell, and she really ain’t shit.

The band was pretty good, but the harp player was pretty bad. He was also sorta a unfunny douche.

Anyway, we stopped at Willy Ray’s … great selection of bbq. Great ribs, good pork sausage and brisket. I’d maybe avoid the venison sausage next time. Sides were a little weaker.

I finally got a non-foggy shot of Pat O’Brien’s VooDoo Fountain.

Austin next…

I had my first Mufaletta. Holy yum. I am a devotee now.

And Zoo had Red Beans and Rice.

And a few years back New Orleans passed a law stating you can;t smoke in an establishment that sells more food than liquor. Evelyn’s Place serves more liquor, so we got to smoke in the same place we ate. Nawlins FTW!

Too bad you can’t have a cigarette while drinking your coffee anymore… Used to be a morning tradition for me.

And I continue to curse the transition from air conditioning to humidity. It takes my camera one hour to de-fog. But at least it’s representative of how I actually saw the world at that point :)

Humidity fogged Matt’s lens … Voodoo fountain – fire and water.

Pat O’Brien’s is famous for its Hurricane … a fruity concoction of rum, passion fruit, grenadine, lemon and lime … You’ll never catch me outside of NOLA with one of these, but damn, they’re good.

We ran into Charity and Drew, and I inadvertently smacked Drew in the head while gesticulating wildly … oops. Drew was interviewing to teach Social Studies, but lives in Portland. Charity lives in Baton Rouge and came down special to see Drew … I sensed passion brewing and tried to work the wingman magic …

What you won’t see below is exactly how far Drew got with Charity. You will not of pictures of them making out. You will not see pictures of Charity flashing the bar, and motorboating the shit outta Drew. You will definitely not see a picture of them walking out hand in hand.

Oh, and we got burgers … Matt’s was Peanut Butter and Bacon. Really. Apparently did not suck, cuz it disappeared in about 32 seconds.

Ted the bartender flashing his gang signs … great guy, great drinks, destroyed us in quarters … he’s a shark.

Above, for our last stop, we ran into Carl at Molly’s at the Market .. after 12 shots of rum, 1 shot of jamesons, a shot of tequila and a pimm’s cup, it got a little hazy …

Had our first meal at the Napoleon House Bar & Cafe, having some delicious, sticky Jambalaya. I was so hungry I forgot to shoot a photo. And I had my first Pimm’s Cup – a southern traditional drink for warm weather that includes gin but mysteriously tastes nothing of it. Won;t be the last one I have :)

… and then as we exited, it started to rain like no tomorrow.

I give that rain only one thumb up. My underwear was still dry.

It looks like the oil’s gonna hit tomorrow …

… Anyway, we’re headed to Pensacola to survey the damage.

Anyway, we did the obligatory sparkler writing, followed by Matt’s fire dancing, and finally decided to appease the natives and set me on fire with 30 feet of fuse … check out the pics below!

So on our way out of Panama City Beach, we stopped at one of the five Waffle Houses that garnish the highway. Bam. $6 breakfast with all the trimmings.

Despite the young, touring church camp evangelists we ha dour meal and drove awaya… only to make a bathroom stop shortly thereafter. I;m undecided if these events are connected. I love waffles no matter the answer,

4 oz Zing Zany Bloody Mary Mix
1 oz Guinness
1 oz Lime Juice
1 oz Lemon Juice
2 oz Absolute Peppar or other peppered vodka
Tabasco to taste
1 clue that your boyfriend is cheating on you

Anyway, here some shots from the road … we got caught in pretty serious thunderstorm just before Tallahassee and pulled over for a few … we could barely see 50 feet at one point. Anyway, we’re a few minutes behind schedule but with Matt at the wheel, we’ll make it up pretty quick.

Later, Georgia, you just don’t rate.

But, here are a few captures while leaving a trail of sweat back to the hotel.

I like the French Quarter – hoping to come back someday when it’s cooler and explore a bit more.

Well, I do say, Dr. Suess + William Shakespeare FTW.

When this is the sign for the bar you’re walking in, you’ve done it right.

When this many fake ID’s have been confiscated, there’s bound to be some jailbait around … thank you gods of the road trip!

We met Caitlynn (above) at the bar, which was well tended by TJ (below) … Caitlynn had some spectacular freckles …

A pretty reasonable cover band (wish we knew their name) gave us some tunes … notably a passable cover of Radiohead’s “Weird Fishes / Arpeggi”.

Laughing + Smoking …

And then, no surprise how the night ended …

A little time on Yelp yielded this walking-distance meatariffic gem of an establishment.

Um, it’s bawls hot here and 9,000% humidity. “Walking distance” is relative and this was the limit, albeit worth it ;)

Popular, $2 domestic beers, $3 Margaritas. Say no more.

Zoo pays homage to the meat prior to digging in. Right after this, he bet me who could eat the most (we both got the same platter).

I winked for the love of barbecued meat.

“Platter” 2010, Giclee Print available for $400

“Sides” 2010, Giclee Print available, $350

I housed him, but he later mentions this whole “pound for pound, I beat you” bullshit line.

“Forlorn Pig” 2010, Giclee Print available on demand for BBQ trade.

So Apple is out of the Camera Connection Kit for the 3G iPad right now. So Zoo bought a wireless router and a USB CF Card reader. Ummm, wireless file access to post on the road! Posts will be written on a more timely basis, instead of when we are arriving in town and cleaning up to go out for the evening.

g33k out.

As a youth, my family chose to go elsewhere on vacation on not flock to Florida like many of my peers. For better or worse, I never got to stop in at South of the Border, land of kitsch, fireworks and horrible misrepresentation of the mexican culture. But I had to do it. Bucket list, folks.

Zoo got mauled by a large, orange dog.

For some reason, this energized him.

I was confused, and wandered in the the mad hattery.

This was a big no… So I bought a cheap drum. Zoo keeps rhythmically banging on things. I think he’s going mad…

Right off of Interstate 95 in North Carolina we found a good place to start our BBQ throwdown – Ralph’s Barbecue (Buffet) in Weldon, NC.

Load yourself up, grab some sweet tea and chow down. Best eats were the pulled pork and roasted chicken.

The fried chicken was also good. Zoo says he makes better at home, though. Can’t wait to get invited to his place.

Oh, and I wished I could be there at night to see the neon pigs all lit up. Hard shadow looks real good, though.

And found this awesome banner that declares our intent for RT6:

Southern States, indeed.

For starters, we hit Hoagie Haven in Princeton. Zoo got this monstrosity:

I believe he called it a #16.

I chose a #8,l and they had no idea what Russian Dressing is, so they added oil and vinegar. Close. But check out how damn HUGE these Hoagies are:

And yes, this is a Hoagie. Not a Wedge or Grinder or whatever else you want to call it. THIS IS NJ!!!

</rant>

Sooooo, we made for Richmond, VA. Made it just after midnight and headed over to Sine Irish Pub. First shots and beers.

Live band, one shot, one beer. Out. See you tomorrow!

How many times have you re-evaluated, improved and upgraded your life? Seriously. I think I’m in a damn rut again and it’s my own fault. Good thing is that I’m on it and the next road trip is only days away…. droooool. Gimme a break, gimme a break make me take some time off off to live real good!

(above: punkout wussyface)

But then again, there is always moments like this:

Now that’s what I call the pursuit of happiness. And this opening is two nights prior to our departure.

So taking a check on past promises to self (from memory) that I would follow my wants I have to put a fat “X” on this one. Check. I have one awesome group of friends, family and supporters, too. Check. Healthy. Check.

So I’m beta-testing Life 3.0 on this RT to see how much further I can this this. Alpha build is done, time for some realtime debugging. Lemme know about your experiences in the comments, if you are so inclined.

The official road trip doesn’t start until the 11th … look for updates starting around then …

In the meantime, enjoy this tip of the day:

Things You Can Slice With An Egg Slicer

Eggs
Mushrooms
Strawberries
Pieces of Banana
Boiled Potatoes

Things You Cannot Slice With an Egg Slicer

Apples
Zucchini*
Raw Potatoes*

*Not actually tested, because it broke on the apple.

Forget the whole “truth, lies, statistics” b.s. I’m not trying to simplify the world just cuz I can’t comprehend or don’t appreciate its complexity. But numbers, simple or not, can provide insight into what we’re dealing with.

Anyway, this is what I was thinking yesterday … when I tell people I’m going on 18 day road trip .. they’re generally like “cool, I wish I could go on a road trip, where ya goin’?”.

Me: “All over the south. Fort Smith, Arkansas. Mobile, Alabama. Lexington, Kentucky. Places like that.”

Them: “Durrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Lexington?”

So this is what I’ve come up with:

If you’re in the big red circle, I don’t want to ever, ever talk to you. I realize that’s not a great Venn diagram, but suck it. What I’m trying to say is, if you only want to visit the “cool” cities (e.g., NY, LA, Miami, Chicago, Vancouver) you’re barely travelling. If you haven’t already figured it out, travelling is a state of mind, and most of the world’s reknowned cities are basically the same place … the cool shit exists in the margins.

Anyway, I’m gonna go data heavy this trip … jst cuz.

I mean, fuck, I like shiny.  I like tits. I love the fucking buffet.  So we struggle to remain even sort of rooted, so getting the fuck outta Dodge is a requirement.  We headed to the Valley of Fire.  If we didn’t have shit to do, I’d rework the 23rd Psalm to my purposes. Alas, I’m just gonna drop a teaser.  We went with friends of Phaux … maybe more on them another time. Good people.

Sometimes I think we should rename this blog Proof Of Future Cancer with all the smoking that’s captured on film.   Anyway, Phaux, thanks for the ego-porn.

Yeah, this a road.  It screams Moto Guzzi commercial.  Except we were driving a Kia.  But everytime we parked it, it looked like one of those depressing mini-van commercials that consoles both men and women about the depressing sterility and banality of their existence by saying, “You will not always be changing dirty diapers in the living room watching SportsCenter, sometimes you will be changing dirty diapers in the the desert.”

So, this is the kind of shit that you get when you take 3 awesome photographers to the desert … serious ego porn.

These were taken with a IR-modified Canon G9, which for some reason turns my clean shaven face into very strange 5 o’clock shadow, sort of like the oldest brother on Party of Five.  You know, the guy who became the doc on Lost?  Don’t you think it’s strange that when he’s living on Alamo Square with running water and Walgreen’s within walking distance he never could shave, but when he gets on the semi-deserted island in the middle of Pacific, he actually is Wall Street clean shaven? Weird. Oh, yeah, that’s a knife.  Not the Global, but hey.

That’s Sylvester.  Photographer-slash-Art Director.   That’s my grill going in the background.  Cowboy cheesesteaks, rosemary pork tenderloin au poivre, asparagus.  That’s why they let me tag along.

I hate to tease all of you with this shot … but pretty sick, huh?  And that’s not even the best shot.  God I just creamed myself.

.. apparently, I didn’t play nice enough …

… I really don’t get why women take so much pleasure in hurting me, but moving on … we headed downtown with every intention of shooting some pictures of Fremont, when I saw:

… it screamed “road trip classic”, I just knew that this was my bar …

… minus the tila tequila wanna-be, pictured below …

… great locals joint. Sexy women, cheap tequila, midget twins … can you really lose? Well, apparently I can …

… I guess I offended her by wiping off the copious lipstick … we did make up after that …

.. right before her husband, who was there the whole time, made his appearence … oops .. I guess “I’m here with my girlfriends” means something else in Vegas.

Vegas, helloooo again!

Zoo and I are on a little R&R and hopped over to Fremont for some photo ops and she-nan-i-gans.

Reminds me of my head.

Rub it…

Zoo spotted this bar, had a hunch and made a run for it.

Music wasn’t impressive, but I felt like we were transported to Portland, OR. It was so NOT-VEGAS, chill, firelit and filled with younger, somewhat less-skanky people.

And some beautiful people…

And fun people, some with sequin pants and mismatched shoes. Good times. Will come back, for sure.

Not actually at the party, but the wedding party took these classic Fords to the Reception. As far as I’m concerned, these were the last great American cars! (Just kidding!)

The obligatory coordinated dancing rigamarole:

Andrew Schmale, the Ring Bearer, lets loose:

The best man, the bride and groom agree to let me do my superman impression. Whoever grabbed my package, THANKS!

She did me the great honor of allowing me a dance:

This guy’s first words to me: “I seen a fella walking up my driveway, and I say to myself, boy that guys got quite a tan! I’m not racist or anything.”

Followed by: “Those damn Polacks are stubborn sunnabitches.”

Followed by: “I don’t care what color yer skin is, I love them hooters!”

Joe was the Best Man, and great fun all night. He had the unenviable job of following up the Maid of Honor’s tear-jerker, which better not happen to me next Spring.

The Speech

It was so good his head got big (that’s what you get with a wide angle lens, stop being so damn tall!)

The First Dance

The Spin Into Kiss

Once a Girl Scout, Always a Girl Scout

Both times I’ve met Mara, she’s been wearing a sash. Strange.

For those just joining us, these are your wedding crashers du jour …

Phaux in the ‘Always Slimming All Black’:

Zoobroker in the trey:

So, we’re here. Here’s the happy couple …

Tons of pictures after the break

Mara, Mom & Dad

7 fifths of the wedding party.

The groomsmen (in sandals)

The Kiss

Gorgeous …

The Bagpiper

Dodging Rice

Off They Go!

We started a mini road trip today, we’re going to call this RT4.333 for the moment …  we’d planned to go from NYC to Toronto (AKA TorTonto) to Detroit To Glen Arbor, but someone, who shall not be named here, lost his passport, so we made a detour this morning and headed towards Pittsburgh.

Turns, out there’s a little town called Bellefonte on the way to Pittsburgh if you take Route 80.  Bellefonte may or may not be where a certain roadtripper’s girlfriend hails from.  First stop: the American Legion .. this fella’s got a big gun.   I’m sure veterans in this town wouldn’t appreciate my fondling, but hey, whatever.

We may or may not have stopped at a certain Bald Eagle High School.

We may or may not have filled a certain superintendent’s truck’s door handles with Beef Jerky.

Anyway, we’ve just arrived in Cleveland and are cleaning up.  It’s happy hour … so later!

This was a pretty sedate road trip. I was more introspective than a good road trip partner should be, with long quiet stretches. Part of that was because I didn’t really take that quiet time for myself in the weeks leading up to the trip. But Phaux was built with the emotional sense to let me be. Thank you, Phaux.

I’ve been to all the places we visited on our road trip … this time we took a different path to get there. Even the drive to Whistler was repaved for our travels — Fuck it, I’m sick of metaphor and aphorism. I can’t even continue with that thought. Vomit.

The posts … those events that reached some level of noteworthiness … only tell part of the story … these were my highlights:

I like your parts more than you like mine.
The last time I was down this road … I was in love.
Who knew hairspray could provide so much amusement (read comments)
Who knew I had worn those jeans for 7 days?
Enjoy my awesome leather jacket .. it’s yours now.

Phaux, thanks for being an awesome friend, for picking up the slack when I was letting it loose. Of any cohort (who I’m not going to have sex with) I could choose for a road trip, the mohawked sentographer is certainly the best. RT4 is in the books. Already looking forward to the Great Lakes.

First off, Zoo is a GREAT road mate. Words cannot express his huge contribution to the road trips being extraordinary, but I’ll give it a shot..

He is unflinching about being alive and living life his way. I have great respect for him, even when I disagree. His travel is experience is deep, so having him along adds a layer of comfort, especially when he says, “Can we drive down on that iced over river?”  (unnamed rental car company, please do not read this). His encouragement of me and other people to go outside their boundaries and live a little makes life interesting and fun. There’s so much more, but my point is sincerely that I appreciate you, Zoo. Thanks for the miles and the smiles, dude.

Places
#1 Portland
#2 Banff 
#3 Vancouver 

I could move to Portland tomorrow and be a very happy man. I will visit Banff many times in the future. And Vancouver is a damn cool city.

Highlights
Kennedy School – just plain awesome
The Doug Fir and Rontoms are great bars with fun people. Always wanted to drink at the Doug Fir and I learned that the Indie Music scene in Portland is great at Rontoms.
My beautiful skull
Banff, the beautiful
Best Road
Biggest Unanswered Question
Whistler Village, BC

Panoramas

Favorite People Photo
 

Best Breakfast – Voula’s (Sorry, Portland!)
Best Lunch – St. James Gate Gangers and Mash
Best Dinner – Tie between Slo Bar (burger) in Portland and Grizzly House (fondue) in Banff

Growth
Every single road trip we make includes opportunities taken to plant seeds, leave room for gestation and let the new rear its head. On this trip, I was a lot more emotionally stable than prior trips, so instead my personal growth included being a bit more “one of the guys.” My life prior to this didn’t really have opportunity to ever be a wingman, play in bars, flirt outrageously, etc. It was a fairly “normal” path towards the American Dream of having the house, marriage and kids. Now I am living a new bachelor life and finding out that not only do I like being alone, but I also like learning more about what I may like in a relationship with each new gal with whom I spend a little time.

The result? I still believe in love and fidelity in a committed relationship. But it’s not something I’ll die over if I don’t get it now… In the meantime I’m having fun.

As for Zoo, I know he had his own thoughts gestating during the trip. I won’t presume to comment on them, but I do think they are going to stay underground for some more nutrients and water in the dark.

On another topic, I have some more thoughts about authenticity. It is a slight paradox that I choose to use a pseudonym on this site, but firmly believe in transparency and authenticity. This is brought into relief by one of Zoo’s posts where during that evening I gave out personal information, but not info about this site. It turned out for the best, because the fun-poking from Zoo could be hurtful should the site be found. Nothing terrible, just not entirely nice. And here is the crux of the matter… What Zoo posts is not my responsibility, but I do share the site with him. Do I reveal what he posts by revealing the site, or do I let it pass? That question lies unanswered at present. So I also have something that needs more time to grow before I can make a decision.

It’s also apparent that I am still learning the fine art (snicker) of being a wingman. It’s foreign to me, and my beliefs. In parallel, I also believe that it’s far easier to condemn something without every trying it. Greater understanding comes with experience. Easier said, I’ll try anything once. In this case, if everyone is out to have a good time then it’s a part of the “game.” My gut feeling is that I am far too sincere to be a wingman. ;)

Compare to before RT4

Biggest personal disappointment: Ummm… being a little naive about ’signals’

2nd biggest personal disappointment: Not actually engaging in deliberate Sentography, only holistic.

Biggest personal success: Frankly, enjoying myself with unfamiliar women on short notice. I’ve been removed from that world for a long time… I usually work into relationships over a long period of time. Bars and dating are almost a foreign language to me.

Wrapup
Every road trip is a potent reminder that we have to choose to enjoy our days, not wait for enjoyment to find you. Make the things you want happen, but don’t expect to be able to plan every road between here and what you want, leave that to chance – it’s more fun that way.

And finally, get yourself a mohawk. It’s the tits.

We stopped at the Hi-Way 101 Diner for lunch and I had the Dungeness Crab n’ Cheese sandwich. Holy Yum.

Back out and headed for Seattle, we decided to take the Edmonds/Kingston ferry. There was a line, so we got bumped back one. It was pouring rain… Anyhoo, we made it on the 5:50 (quite huge) car ferry and I went upstairs to snappy-snappy.

Saw some interesting art on the walls – crocheted portraits!

If you like, here is how to contact Jo Hamilton about the work.

I moseyed on over to Voodoo Donut (map) next…

And for the first time in my life, I was confused by donuts. The gal behind the counter guided me through this.

“Do you like bacon?”

“Yes.”

“Do you like Maple?”

“Yes.”

“OK – have this. It’s a Bacon Maple Donut.”

It was no joke. It was also delicious in a very hedonistic way.

Burger: Yes

Beer: Yes

Slow: Yes

Good: Yes

This was the Winter Burger:
1/2lb. Strawberry Mountain natural beef, Rogue Creamery Blue Cheese, Pancetta, grape tomato relish and butter lettuce

Yes, medium rare it was the most delicious burger I’ve had in many months.

Check out their menu for the other burger. Find Slow Bar on a map.

While Phaux was having a conversation of actual substance, I was pointing at this girl’s cleavage.

Not sure what this is all about.  I think I thought her nose was cute.  Maybe.

Her friends pick me up … this is going well …

I can’t resist looking at the cleavage some more …

The Carrie Underwood look-alike shows some tongue.

Matt and the cute bartender pose …

Soy el campion del mundo! I’m wearing  her friend’s jacket right now.

The cleavage girl tries to nibble on Phaux’s ear.

At this point, Phaux ditched me (and opportunities to photograph me molesting cleavage girl) because the blondes from the Doug Fir showed up and dragged him off to a lesbian dance party. Kelsey shows off her extremely strong thighs, dancing around the bottle of lotion.   Don’t ask me, I wasn’t there, I don’t understand, either.

Cathleen revives dance moves from 1994:

Kelsey rests … 

Kelsey starts looking at our website on her iPhone.   Phaux suddenly leaves …

This is “The Tallest Man On Earth”.  I saw him open for Two Gallants the day (or was it two days) after Christmas 2008.  He was royally fucked up.  Woo.  Anyway, I am taller than “The Tallest Man On Earth”.

Shortly after arriving, three blondes from Seattle engaged us.  Cathleen and Kelsey are pictured below.

Kelsey wanted to look tough, but I explained to her that the back-of-arm-jiggly stuff was not intimidating.

Of course, hilarity ensues.  But not before I point out her little pea-sized head.

We retreated to the warm fire outside … where we met a musician who was actually rejected from playing at the Hotel Utah.  We will not be mentioning any names here, as she is not worthy.

Phaux snaps some shots of the lovely interior …

There I am below on the right.  

These girls were obnoxiously not funny or interesting, although they were cute.

Okay, now that we have all the blondes in the picture below, I’ll explain … Shelly (the way too fake-and-bake on the far left) was on her way up to Vancouver.  At the border, the Canadian Border Patrol / RCMP denied Shelly access to their wonderful country.  She claimed it was because she had been convicted of a DUI a couple years prior.  Her friends told me that it was because she exceeded the Canadian limits on peroxide and bronzer.  Anyway, they decided to go to Portland instead and have a “Fuck Canada” party.  Then walks in this poor soul with a Canada t-shirt, who proceeded to get molested by the girls.  I guess they really did want to fuck Canada.

The hipster shows her ink.  Babe, if you don’t do some toning exercises, in a few years, that guy is going to be tall and fat.  

Notice the ghostly paleness of the crowd here.  Portland gets approximately 4 days of sun each year, and residents are advised to stay indoors. 

We like cleavage.  Everyone in our corner of the bar was staring at this girl’s tata’s …

Why I wore these retardo glasses, I’m not sure. 

Phaux takes a picture of the girl taking a picture … he says he loves the natural light, but I think he was going for an upskirt shot.

We played throw the butt in the ashtray … it took me two tries.   Soy el campion del mundo!!!!!!!

Sisters: 

Me trying to perform ear-o-lingus.  It didn’t work.   But I got thrush in my ear.

Acrylic moose head.  ’Nuff said.

More bar shots to close this out …

We walked from downtown …

all the way over to Broders Cafe. Saw some cool graffiti on the way, plus an inventive sign discouraging parking in a particular spot.

Zoo snapped this photo of me looking very introspective. I am thinking hard, but there is an edge of hunger in there.

Ah… Æbleskiver. Something my family (with no Scandinavian heritage) has been making since I was a wee lad. Yum, but not enough. They were delicious, though.

After kicking Zoo’s arse in Soul Caliber II, he said I should play the computer, so I kicked it’s ass and went 10 for 10, game over, won.

Going upstairs, I saw a pinball machine open – snapped a shot of its guts. Cool.

We’re silly. We’re fun. We’re happy.

We flick each other and throw things.

We laugh. We drink.

Zoo has a contest to see if any gals can point at his nipple.

Aw, it’s Reggie!

Zoo got slapped… again.

I, however, did not.

Zoo, however, instigated and received more slaps.

But he did reveal that he sits in as a drummer for Beirut…

Which was received with the Portland equivalent of a Bronx cheer.

Boo was shocked.

Zoo thought the best way to show off his purple hair was pushups.

So I figured the best way to show off my Mohawk was booth-to-booth pushups.

Rock on.

The legendary Terminator Stouts rolled in and in and in… not to mention seven’ish rounds of tequila.OMG… What a night. Thank you, friends :)

The we met Little and Big John, a Scot and an Englishman, respectively, who both live sorta near Birmingham. Shropshire, I think. They kicked our ass in pool. Then we drank some more. Then they kicked our ass some more.

We made it down to the Magpie and Stump (with Little John, Big John went sleepy-bye-byes). Peanut throwing ensued.

John made a new friend.

… who felt compelled to pick me up … and then call me a fat ass.

Phaux drank a caesar. Which is like drinking a cappuccino after noon. Caesar are a gross take on a bloody maria, with Clamato (yes, clam juice) instead of tomato juice.

John notices Noush, who was pretty hot.

Noush’s rejection of me (her boyfriend was the bartender) shamed me into passing out.

Shots with staff …

Dancing with the waitress … first me, followed by John almost pulling her arm off.

Anyway, this is one of those Banff “must-do’s”.  The food is just good, not great, but you can’t beat the atmostphere.  And table-to-table calling.

The cheese fondue …

The sauces and the meats …

The bison head, available for purchase for $4000. Really.

I’ll miss you, Banff. I will be back.