Road Trip from Hell

I realized I promised Texas updates; however, I got distracted with the resume process last night.  Who knew a jobless person could be so busy?  Instead of pretty pictures, I will regale - or terrify - you with a family road trip that I typed up when I was bored in Texas.  I saved it for a day I didn't feel like posting.  This is a long story, and I realize the internet has inhibited your brain from processing anything more than 140 characters, but I urge you to read it.  It’s worth it.

Most of you have wondered how we can handle such an extensive road trip.  Especially me, since I’m a bit of a girly girl.  I do love me some sequins (yes, I wrote that article).  To be honest, I’m surprised Ayk remained optimistic and energetic for this trip.  Most people gripe when they take a road trip longer than 2 hours.  I, on the other hand, have been raised to handle this type of trip.  I wasn’t given a choice.

Growing up, my dad would take us on road trips from Maryland to Seattle (and back again) that make the Griswold’s trips look like a cakewalk.  Both my dad and my mom grew up in Seattle, where most of their families live.  Rather than take the sane approach and take a flight to visit, my parents loaded their three young daughters into the minivan and headed west.  We were lucky if we stayed in motels.  Instead, my parents drove through the night, taking turns sleeping while the other drove.  Sometimes it would only take three days to get to cross the country.  Three days.  That's not an exaggeration.  For comparison, it took Ayk and I eleven days to get to California.  True, we spent three nights extra in Salt Lake City.  But still.  Three days!

Sure, lots of families take road trips.  But, clearly, not like ours.  The story that stands out in my mind (probably because it’s the most scarring) is when we went to Seattle the summer I was 8.  Before trekking west, we traveled to New Hampshire to hike in the White Mountains.  With no showers, we started to get smelly.  I hated showers at that age, so it didn’t bother me much at first.

After hiking, we swung by Maine then headed to Niagara Falls.  That’s when the restlessness began to set in.  “Dad, when are we going to take a shower?” we’d ask.  “Oh, we don’t need any showers!” he’d say.  “We’ll just let the spray from the falls clean us off.”  To this day, I’m still not sure if he was kidding.  To keep our teeth from falling out, we’d brush our teeth in gas station and McDonald’s bathrooms.  The pity from onlookers was the worst.  "Those poor children," their eyes said.  "Their family must be homeless."  Hardly.  Keep in mind, my dad could afford to stay in motels; he just decided not to.

Our desperation became vociferous when we got to the Mid-West: “Dad, we really need to take a shower!  We’re starting to get gross.”  He assured us, “Oh, we’re going to the Mall of America.  They have a log ride there where we can just stand underneath of and the water will spray us clean.”  Thankfully, the ride wasn’t running.  Have you ever been on log rides?  That water just would have made us nastier.

After Minneapolis, we were so close to Seattle that we relented from pestering my dad for shower breaks.  There was no point in trying to change his mind at this point.  We just sat in the car quietly awaiting our relaxing showers in Seattle.  Too bad fate's a cruel bitch.  On a whim, my dad decided we should take a long detour to Yellowstone National Park.  Now, if you weren’t already aware of my bitter resentment towards Wyoming, allow me to reiterate: IT SUCKS.  Looking back on this story only reinforces that hatred.

“NO!” we each shrieked.  “We want to take showers!  What’s in Yellowstone, anyway?”  My dad told us about the famed geyser Old Faithful.  “Why are we taking a 10-hour detour to see an old man?” I asked, mistaking it for a “geezer” (Ayk's note: Or perhaps "guy, sir"?).  I was 8; give me a break.  Once my dad explained what it was, he told us that the spray from the geyser could clean us off.  Not even the scalding steam could clean the filth caked on us.

We left Wyoming listless, which is to be expected from any trip to that hellhole.  Late in the night we finally reached Seattle.  The first thing we did when we got there was take a long bath.  After a short stay with family, we headed back to the East Coast and suffered through yet another showerless drive until we got home.

SLC: Salty Lakes

As if the salted caramels weren’t enough to sate our saline quota of the day, we decided to visit the Great Salt Lake.  Generally when a place is named after a geographical point of interest, the locals are proud to show it to you (e.g. Lake Tahoe).  Not so with Salt Lake City.  Every time I’ve visited Salt Lake City I’ve asked about visiting the eponymous lake, only to be answered with, “Why would you want to go there?”  This time I finally got my foolish wish.

Pictured: Regret

After visiting, now I understand why no one goes there. It looks like a post-apocalyptic world with zombies running around, except nobody – alive or undead – was there.

The defunct lakeside hotel Saltair is eerily similar to the abandoned playgrounds of Chernobyl.

All that could be heard was the buzzing of the speeding cars on the highway.  Dense smog from the nearby factory lingered in the air.  And oh boy did that lake smell.

As if the saltiness of the lake weren’t pungent enough,

thousands of dead brine, similar to krill, washed up on the rocks making the air more malodorous.

The only sense this place didn’t accost was the taste.  But that’s simply because there was nothing there to eat.

Except maybe a rotting bird with a side of brine exoskeleton.

Leave it to this man to want to try the water.  He didn't, thankfully.

I’ll be perfectly honest: I’m not the biggest fan of Salt Lake City.  And I didn't make the decision solely based on the wondrously creep Great Salt Lake.  The skiing is choice, my family is great, and walking around Temple Square is great – if you’re religious – but other that, there’s really nothing there.  Yes, there are some cute little areas and walking in the canyon to see the aspens change color is magnificent, but otherwise I'm underwhelmed.


The city is surrounded by mountains, which sounds picturesque until you realize the smog hovering above the city is permanently stuck there because the mountains prevent the wind from sweeping it away.

Think of a bowl of soup with steam trapped at the top of the bowl -- except it’s poisonous and not delicious.

Mm, mm toxic.

Before you tell me I’m insulting my ancestors who founded Utah with Brigham Young, stop right there.  My dad read the memoirs of one of those ancestors, and apparently she even bitched about how she didn't like Salt Lake City.  Guess discontent for SLC runs in the family.

Wyoming is the worst

Wyoming: Home to sagebrush (the symbol of lifelessness).

Wyoming sucks.  We hate Wyoming with a passion.  If it weren’t for Yellowstone National Park, which is only open during the summer, I’d say that place should be blown to smithereens.  It is the worst state in the country.  Yes, even worse than New Jersey.

Why do we hate it so much?  Let us count the ways …

1. Seeing sagebrush tumble across the highway was the most entertaining thing we witnessed.  That is until we saw sagebrush blowing in the blustery wind, then we almost had a seizure from excitement.

That fence is holding back the threat of a sagebrush attack.

2. Verizon must have no customers there, because we had absolutely no service.  Why bother when nobody lives there?

3. We didn't see any Wyoming license plates until 3 hours into the drive.  That's because the few people who live in Wyoming know how horrible it is.

4. The drive was so boring and repetitive that it looked like a video on loop.

Or just stare at this picture for 4 hours for the same effect.

5. Their idea of a rest stop is a roadside table, which is exactly what it sounds like: a picnic table on the side of the road.  Just a table out in the open on the side of the road with no protection from the elements.  There isn’t even a parking lot for people to stop.  This shows you how much they care about the tourism.  I wish we had a picture of it, but we didn’t realize that it would top the two sagebrush sightings as the most interesting thing in Wyoming.

6. There was so much snow blowing everywhere that we could barely see in front of our car.  Maybe we’d be a little bit more forgiving to Wyoming if we could actually see it.

At least it's a change of scenery.

I wish Wyoming would secede from the union because I’m embarrassed to say that it’s a part of our wonderful country.  Ayk points out if that were true, then Dick Cheney would never have been eligible to be Vice President.  And the world would be a much better place.