The Greatest Road Trip Radio Show in History


The best radio station I’ve listened to on this road trip is Road Dog Trucking on SiriusXM. It’s a channel dedicated to truckers, with an ample time for call-ins and opinion-and a plethora of regional dialects, a selective sample that seems to indicate that most of the truckers in this country are white men from the south. It’s endlessly fascinating, this window onto an oft-overlooked subculture, and the pinnacle of the station is a show hosted by Dale Sommers, who goes by the name Truckin’ Bozo.

I don’t recall how I found the Bozo’s show, but at number 106 on the dial, it was likely through some desperate channel surfing. He was talking about, well, something and taking calls from truckers. They almost always go by their handles, names like Seatcover Chaser and Grizzly Bear and Kemosabe and Elvis. (Listing the handles heard on the show is a staple of writing stories about the Bozo.)

Working at WLW in Cincinnati in the ’80s, he developed an overnight country music show that caught on by truck stop word of mouth. Jerry Springer called him “a lone but powerful voice crying in the night” in 1991, introducing a WLWT segment on the host. He was snatched from the brink of retirement by satellite radio in 2004, to bring his show from the third shift to afternoon drive time.

The current program meanders through its three hours. An odd cast of frequent guests call in, filling their roles in story lines still inscrutable to me after listening for six weeks. The Bozo goes on political rants, aimed more at “politicians” than any one in particular, unless its President Obama, who gets dinged almost daily. Some bit of news that’s of interest to professional drivers-cross-border trucking, construction projects, new in-cab computer systems-will be dissected and re-dissected. A producer, Ritchie, will talk about Long Island, where it seems he’s from.

The Bozo’s show is, in other words, almost impenetrable for newcomers. And yet listeners keep coming back, jamming the phones to get a chance to greet the host with the phrase everyone uses when they finally get on air: “Hey there, Bozo.” If they’re lucky, callers will be “given a boost,” hung up on with an explosion sound effect. For how little sense it makes, it’s extraordinarily popular.

By inviting everyone to call in and tell their own stories in their own words, the Bozo has created a tight-knit, pan-American trucking community. After watching the final shuttle launch, I decided to join the club. I dialed in, told Ritchie what I planned to talk about, sat on hold for more than an hour and finally got to talk with the host about the experience.

The Bozo opined about the lack of industriousness and imagination in this country-we’re turning our space program over to the Russians, you see!-and then told a story about seeing a night launch’s exhaust trail from Tampa, more than a hundred miles away. I told the Bozo it was my first time calling in. He gave me a boost for the road trip, firing the explosion sound effect and proclaiming “Liftoff!” Now I just need to come up with a handle.

Staying with Friends: On the Porch in Raleigh, North Carolina


One thing you won’t find in New York City, at least at my apartment, is a screened-in porch. But in the summer in the south, the porch is the living room, kitchen, dining room and bar, a focal point of a home to rival the greatest of fireplaces. I know because I had the pleasure of enjoying a porch for a couple of days recently in Raleigh, North Carolina.

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Through my friend Rob, I’d met Tim and Susan, a couple that left New York City after about fifteen years to slow down and try their hands in the south. Like our friends in the Outer Banks, they were standard bearers for North Carolina’s wonderful brand of hospitality, immediately shuffling us out to the porch, plopping us down in chairs and handing us frosty beers plucked from an ice chest. One of the greatest things in North Carolina is the beer-filled cooler that holds a prime position on porches across the state.

We talked. Rob updated his friends on news from New York and I grilled the couple on life in Raleigh and how it compares to the north, particularly because Tim will soon open his own bar near the campus of UNC. “The bottom line is, with Research Triangle Park, there is this really well-educated community and an awfully diverse community here,” he says. “My thing is that there’s a phenomenal number of ‘classic American’ bars but there aren’t really a phenomenal number of bars that have been influenced by Europe. And it’s not that I want to create a ‘European bar’ but there are a lot of things that the Europeans get right with bars,” like lighting, music, ambiance and drink selection.

Tim’s new spot should be, like his porch, a great place for gathering. The idea of televisions in pubs is repellant to the long-time bartender, a pointless intrusion on the real reasons for going out: the people and the booze and sometimes the food. Construction at his place is still underway, but he’s already found that the business of building a restaurant in Chapel Hill is, in many ways, much easier here than in New York City. Rent is cheaper, of course, but so are construction costs, contracting fees and permits. Bureaucratic headaches are nothing compared to what restaurant owners confront up north. It’s the kind of place, says Tim, where he can actually open his own business; that wasn’t a certainty in his former hometown. (He also has more room in his house for power tools now.)

Critically for the area restaurant scene-if not his place-the local products are good, says Tim: “There is some very good beer being brewed in North Carolina. I was shocked to say so when I moved but there’s some fabulous beer being brewed down here.” Lonerider’s Shotgun Betty and Foothills Pilsner from Salem, North Carolina are a couple of his favorites. 3 Cups, a Chapel Hill gourmet shop, stocks plenty of international groceries and wines, but its event program is all about local chefs and farmers. “There is good food here,” Tim says. Much of it is on view at the Raleigh Farmers Market, which has so much to offer that it’s open daily.

While his future bar is across “The Triangle” from the capital, Raleigh’s downtown alliance is encouraging development in the heart of the city, where there’s already a healthy dining and nightlife scene. Poole’s Diner is a foodie favorite occupying a restored luncheonette, bustling until the wee hours as friends finish that last bottle of wine and linger over dessert. The chef there, Ashley Christensen, is embarking on a new triple-concept restaurant, adding to the offerings in downtown with Beasley’s, Chuck’s and an as-yet-unnamed bar. It’s not just eating and drinking: The Contemporary Art Museum opened earlier this year in a converted warehouse on West Martin Street.

The nerve center of it all is Morning Times, a killer coffee shop where friends bump into friends by coincidence and everyone seems to greet the baristas by name. Tables line the street, occupied by couples reading the paper and neighbors “visiting,” that southern form of chatting that makes a conversation much more than just small talk. There are salads and sandwiches and wraps to order, sure, but the egg and cheese biscuit is what you really want for breakfast (and probably lunch too).

For all the positives, development work continues, as The Raleigh Connoisseur blog, which tracks downtown news and notes, describes in its mission statement:

Transit, urban planning, and land use are new problems that we will face as the city grows. What will downtown’s role be in all of this? I am trying to follow Raleigh’s attempts at bringing back the urban center it once had in the early 1900s.

Indeed, in this growing city and metro region, sprawl could be public enemy number one, with engineers commuting to RTP, suburbanites driving downtown for a night out or an entrepreneurial bartender living in Raleigh opening his place in Chapel Hill. All the driving makes economic sense now, but will it still as the population continues to grow-and gas prices keep rising?

The Ultimate Road Trip Detour: Go Kart Racing?


At the outset of this road trip, I invited friends and readers to jump in the car with me. After more than a month on the road, one of my buddies finally took me up on the offer, planning to meet me in Virginia Beach after I toured Colonial Williamsburg.

I’ve known Rob for more than 10 years, and while we get along wonderfully, we love competition. So it being a road trip, there was no better place to spar than on a go kart track.

Traveling the American Road – Go Kart Racing


By a fantastic coincidence, Virginia Beach Motor World has a loop inspired by Watkins Glen International, a place I’d visited earlier this summer–and driven on the pro-level track. It wasn’t an exact replica, but I planned to put some of my driving experience in Upstate New York to good use in Virginia.

Rob and I have raced before, in Chile of all places, in super-speedy karts that required helmets. Splitting a few races this time around, we still haven’t determined a champion. We’re hoping to do that when we get to the Orlando Kart Center. But first we have a stop to make in the Outer Banks.

Name My (Sweet) Ride for a Chance to Win a HP Veer phone


One of my colleagues once nicknamed his father’s 2000 Miata “The Penis Extension”. In hindsight, “Extension” could have been changed to “Reduction,” but I give him credit for trying. And the guy had a point, anyone with an emotional engagement with their vehicle needs to name it — it’s a way of connecting and making the journey personal, or, if you’re lucky a way to win a phone (details below.)

As Americans, we tend to grow attached to our cars, which isn’t surprising considering its easy to put a couple hundred thousand miles behind the wheel of one auto. Emotional bonds are bound to be made, identities defined, and nicknames assigned.

Which is all to say I need to name my ride.

The problem? I have no experience in naming cars. Not the Volkswagen Fox, not the Ford Contour, not the 1969 Dodge Swinger (Heyo!) not the many rentals I’ve used to escape the surly bonds of Manhattan, where I live.

So I’ve enlisted the help of colleagues to provide a little inspiration for this exercise.

Gadling’s fearless leader Grant Martin once had a 1989 Honda Hatchback he affectionately named Jeco Speeder. So very…Grant.

A colleague to remain unnamed calls her Mazda 3 Crackerjack for reasons only known to her. AOL Travel Assistant Editor Rebecca Dolan named her 2011 Ford Escape Hybrid Knight Rider. When asked why she called it Knight Rider she replied, “I don’t know.”

Knight Rider (Minus David Hasselhoff)

Rebecca’s father called their 1970 “brown” (that’s all she can remember about the name) pickup The Sled.

The Bee is what Senior Editor Chris Anderson not-so-affectionately nicknamed his first car, a yellow 1977 Toyota Celica that sounded like a bee with a hyperextended wing.

Finally, an editor-not-to-be-named-ever was once the proud owner of a 1994 Ford Taurus which he named Boris. Yes, Boris the Ford Taurus.

Boris?

There’s too much awesome contained in the name for Boris the Ford Taurus. I need some of that awesome applied to naming my Ford.

Inspired yet?

When you’ve got a suggestion, drop it in the comments here or message me on Twitter. The best name will live in glory, at least for the summer, and to help you come up with good submissions we’re giving the winner ONE FREE HP VEER PHONE (valued at $99.99) . Just go easy on the phallic references.

[flickr image via Kim Scarborough]

This giveaway is open to legal residents of the 50 United States, the District of Columbia and Canada (excluding Quebec) who are 18 and older. To enter, comment below and name the Traveling the American Road car. You must comment before 11:59pm on Tuesday, June 21st and may enter only once. 1 winner will be chosen at random to receive one HP Veer phone valued at $99.99. Click here for the official rules.

Inside the WBEZ Studios in Chicago to Learn about the Rust Belt

At the outset of my trip, I needed some guidance. A sort of Rust Belt Virgil, willing and able to orient me to the exciting and dynamic and tragic state of the Great Lakes region. With my route passing through Chicago, Detroit and Cleveland, there seemed no one better for the job than Micki Maynard, a journalist now spearheading a public radio project called Changing Gears.

More than just a radio show, Changing Gears is a multi-year, multimedia effort that aims to tell the stories of people in the Great Lakes, through radio, yes, but also online and in video, with reporters stationed around the region. The questions they’re asking: How are people in this part of the country reinventing their cities, their local economies and even themselves in the face of cataclysmic change? Those are the stories Changing Gears hopes to capture and some of which Micki shared with us in our video interview at the WBEZ studios on Chicago’s Navy Pier.

Traveling the American Road – Changing Gears’ Micki Maynard