Great American Road Trip: More road kill woes and how to clean a car

by Jamie Rhein on

The first mishap was when we nailed a possum in Illinois east of Chicago the first night of our road trip to Montana. The critter was lumbering across the interstate about 10:30 p.m. That was a sad moment.

Thursday, driving to and from Regent, North Dakota we had several sad moments. Honestly, there are some things that can’t be avoided.

I already posted about the two pheasants we hit. The chipmunk and the blackbird came later.

We didn’t hit them all at once, but over the course of several miles. Such is one of the realities of traveling on small two-lane highways–but this was ridiculous. Particularly when two raccoons made a mad dash in front of us as I was typing the previous sentence. The second one didn’t make it.

With each thump, I’m shouting out from the passenger seat, a strangled “Arggh!” Seriously, it was a nightmare. “That’s one way to damage a car,” I said.

“It’s not like I’m trying to hit them,” said my husband. It’s true, he wasn’t, and swerving too much is dangerous. He pointed out the deep ditch on the side of the road.

My son, the six-year-old wanted to stop for feathers and fur.

My daughter wanted to know why I’m making such an awful sound.

Turns out, I was onto something. While my husband was filling the gas tank in Miles City, Montana after dropping us off at a McDonald’s so our son could let off steam at the indoor playland, one of the pheasants was still with us. It had broken the grill a tad–just big enough to become wedged behind it.

Two truckers, noticing the predicament, exchanged their road kill tales with my husband and helped him figure out how to remove it. The windshield squeegee handle was somehow involved. I didn’t want the specific details.

When my husband showed up at the McDonald’s parking lot with the pheasant in a plastic bag with grand plans of showing it to our friend in Billings, I shouted, “Arggh!” and ran in the opposite direction. “No dead things in the car. Absolutely not,” I shouted from where I stood, still ready to flee if he stepped one foot closer. I hate dead things.

The pheasant was left in a garbage can in Miles City. There are a couple feathers in another bag behind the driver’s seat, but I’m trying not to think about them.

A woman told us, as she was sliding into her truck after hearing about our pheasant mishap, “Watch out for deer.”

The photo is of my son trailing his hand out the window for a moment to catch raindrops, one of the pleasant aspects of the day. Not pheasant–pleasant.

Great American Road Trip: North Dakota. Dodging pheasants in the midst of huge sculptures

by Jamie Rhein on

Thursday afternoon we turned off of I-94 at exit 72 for Regent, North Dakota for a detour. Three years ago, we became so enamored with this stretch of two-lane road called “The Enchanted Highway” that we decided it was worth the forty or so miles out of our way for a return visit. Our goal was Billings, Montana by 10:30 p.m.

Every five miles or so along the 32 miles to Regent, there is a large scrap metal sculpture grouping. A tin family, schools of fish, grasshoppers, Teddy Roosevelt on a horse, and a pheasant family. They are the largest scrap metal sculptures in the world. They are superb.

Back in 1989, Gary Greff, a former teacher and high school principal, came up with the idea of this series of sculptures as a way to draw people to Regent. It’s worked with us twice now. The first time I heard an interview with him on National Public Radio three years ago. As I listened to the interview, I thought heading through North Dakota to see the sculptures was a fine idea.

Greff’s plan to draw tourists is slowly working. As I was snapping photos this time, two other couples were chasing images as well. One couple boasted Florida plates. The other hailed from Minnesota.

We stopped in one of the town’s gift shops to buy post cards and coffee. The sculptures were as wonderful as I remembered and Greff has plans for another.

One of the sculpture groups that intrigues me the most is the pheasant family. They are constructed out of thin wire mesh so that each can be viewed through the others. This time as we were driving to and from Regent, I understood why the pheasant family is so fitting.

There are pheasants everywhere on the Enchanted Highway. Sad to say, despite my husband’s swerving and dodging, we took out two–one of them while I was writing the text for this post. You’ve never seen so many pheasans. They darted, meandered, waltzed, and played peek-a-boo in the thigh high grass. Each time we had a near miss, I yelled out, “Argh!!”

Such are the details that make one road trip memorable from another. Years from now we’ll recount tales of how we tried to dodge pheasants and stopped the car so our 15 year-old could run through the field to try to catch one. Why she wanted to try to catch one, I have no idea. But it was wonderful to hear her laugh with abandon.

Great American Road Trip: History lesson. Fort Abraham Lincoln, North Dakota

by Jamie Rhein on

Although we head to Montana every summer, each year holds something different. Even if we travel on the same highway, we’ll take in something new. This time, I found Fort Abraham Lincoln State Park in Mandan, North Dakota, a few miles from Bismarck.

This is a perfect place for brushing up on a history lesson and getting a sense of what life was like on the Great Plains back when the Mandan Indians and Lt. Col. George Armstrong Custer lived here.

The Mandans lived between the deep ravine and the Missouri River from 1575-1781 prior to Lewis and Clark’s arrival on the scene. Custer and his gang were later than that, but now, each part of history converges in the state run park.

Even though the fort was abandoned back in 1882, and the settlers took down many of the buildings for lumber, Custer’s house, army barracks, a granary and the stable have been either refurbished or reconstructed. There are stone markers that show where the missing buildings used to be.

We were lucky enough to roll into the parking lot ten minutes before the 1:00 p.m. interpretive tour. The tour, conducted by a dashing fellow in period army uniform, centered mostly on the house, but included what life was like for everyone from the soldiers to Elizabeth “Libbie” Custer, Custer’s wife.

She was living here when he died at the Battle of Little Big Horn. In case you’re wondering, she moved back to Michigan where she was from and her family still lived. She never remarried, and died when she was 91.

In one of the reconstructed barracks, you can find out what they looked like way back when. The set up is exactly like it would have looked when it housed men who were from as far away as Ireland and Sweden.

One room includes footlocker style boxes similar to the ones actually used by members of the 7th Calvary. There is a sign on each one that states the name of the person, where he was from and where he died, if known. Several died with Custer. I saw one that died in the Battle of Wounded Knee. One guy was from Ulster County, New York which is where I lived from 8th grade through high school.

Along with the tour of the fort, admission includes a tour of On-A-Slant Indian village where the Mandans lived before most of them were wiped out by small pox. That’s what the guide told us. There are five reconstructed earth lodges, each set up to tell about a different aspect of Mandan life.

Before this tour, I didn’t know much about the Mandan Indians. The guide pointed out details about their farming practices, tools and beliefs. We didn’t have much time in the museum because of our need to get back on the highway for the Billings leg of this trip.

I could have easily spent more time, but felt satisfied because of the information gathered from the tours.

If you do head this way, there is a campground at the state park, a concession stand and a café. The book shop and gift shop are well done.

I highly recommend this stop if you’re traveling with kids. As I told my son, “When you read about this part of history in school, you’ll have actually been to these places where the history happened.” Not a bad idea for adults either.

For the four of us, admission and parking was $21. Our son was free because he is 6 years-old. Our daughter was the student rate, $4. My husband and I were $6 each and parking was $5. The $5 parking was actually the cost to get into the park. The tours cost extra. Spend the money.

You can’t get into the buildings or to the Mandan village without paying for the tour.

The great American road trip: Montana here we come

by Jamie Rhein on

With gas prices fluctuating between $3.95 and $4.09 in Columbus, Ohio, we’ve embarked on a road trip to Montana, cruise control set at 65 mph.

Right now we’re driving into the sunset on I-80 near Fremont, Ohio, home of Rutherford B. Hayes. My laptop is resting across my lap. We’re passing yet another white farmhouse with a barn silo. Our goal is to make it to La Quinta Inn in Madison, Wisconsin. It has a pool, WiFi and free breakfast. Wheee!

If we don’t make it, we’re out $100. It’s 8:52 p.m. If you do the math, you’ll notice that we won’t roll into the parking lot until at least 2:00.

The relatives we just left in Brunswick at a high school graduation party for one of our ten nephews gave us hugs and waved us off. “Of course, you’re driving to Madison tonight,” was the general response.

The graduation party stop, two hours after I shoved our last belonging in the car in Columbus, was a quick one-just enough time to say our congrats, have a swim in a backyard pool, eat our fill and head out.

The stop was a chance to regroup. Leaving Columbus was not the smoothest. We left pillows and umbrellas behind. By the time we made it to the entrance ramp of I-71 north, I was ready to call it quits. This was not even a mile from our house.

My mom just called to tell me the things she did that we forgot to do. Things like emptying the coffee grounds, turning on an inside light, changing the bulb of our porch light and turning that on, and watering our flowers. The neighbor kids will be by in a couple of days, but the flowers looked limp as we pulled away.

But, we are off in our Ford Taurus station wagon with a new set of rear brakes and an oil change. This car has made the trip two other times, the first time all the way to California and onto New York when our son was a year and a half and our daughter was ten.

This time we have broken our no DVD player stance. Our son is watching Chicken Little, but he had to wait to be plugged in until we left Brunswick and turned onto the highway. The idea is to parcel it out so he’ll notice the scenery and we can visit which is part of the purpose of a road trip.

Tomorrow, we’ll be in Minneapolis, the city filled with outdoor art, visiting two sets of friends. One set who used to live on our street before we moved to Taiwan. Their son was our daughter’s best friend when they were five.

The other set was friends of ours in Singapore. Back when we hung out together, they were kid-less and so were we. We spent one Christmas together hiking between Jomsom and Pokhara, Nepal.

Catching up with friends we haven’t seen for awhile is another road trip purpose. As a person who has had a life of travel and moving, these visits offer me some sense of continuity.

But, for now we’re floating on the highway, the sun is gone and the moon is up, a crescent in front of us—good company for a night of driving. [The photo is what Chicago looks like at 1:00 a.m. I would have taken the photo myself but I was in a road-hashed stupor. This shot is of evanembee’s view from his condo.]

The Great Smoky Mountains National Park: 75th anniversary in 2009

by Jamie Rhein on

The only time my family on either side of my tree has had a reunion was when my dad’s side converged at Fontana Village near Fontana Dam for a week. In the midst of the Great Smoky Mountains, this was a gorgeous place to spend time.

The drive there was filled with winding roads and vistas. Next year marks the 75th anniversary of Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Seventy-five years ago, from donations collected from the public and private sectors, the land in North Carolina and Tennessee that now boasts 800 miles of maintained trails, 1,500 black bears, plus elk and deer, became property for the public to enjoy.

If you can’t make it to the anniversary celebration, there are planned activities throughout the spring, summer and fall every year. This summer is filled with them. Here’s the link to the interactive calendar that highlights what is happening on specific days. I adore ranger programs. I’ve never seen a bad one.

To kick off the 75th anniversary, there is a nifty Web site that highlights the upcoming activities and the park history. The interactive timeline that dates back to pre-1900s is particularly cool. For example, did you know that Clarence Darrow visited here in 1925 when he was in the midst of the Scopes “Monkey” Trial?

Along with the park itself, the neighboring communities also have events planned to celebrate the beauty in their midst. Knoxville, Tennessee has several. From what I can tell, events will be added as the year goes on, so keep checking back.

If you have been to the Great Smoky National Park and want to add to the legacy, there’s a feature, “Smokies Family Album” where you can share your photos.

The big weekend Anniversary Weekend is June 13-15. 2009.