I’m finally able to extricate myself from work on a Friday afternoon and try to get as far as I can.  So day #1 is a very uneventful drive, covering territory I have mostly covered before.  The big highlight was the weather.  I started the day in 48 degree rain, followed by hail in Milan.  Northern Ohio has blinding rain, but once I get to the northern burbs of Columbus — temperature shoots up to 70.  Hmm…cold front and all of a sudden 20 degrees warmer?  Here come the tornadoes!  I was able to beat them barely.  I stop for the night in Ripley, WV: believe it or not.

Before hitting North Carolina, I decide to take a detour to Virginia Tech.  I was disappointed that the football stadium does not honor the explosion of Lee Corso’s car.  However, in struggling to find the stadium along with other recent incidents, I decide I need to get a GPS.  I pick one up, install it in the car, and move on.

As I approach the VA-NC border, I need to fill up on gas (my first fill up actually).  One thing about the west part of North Carolina — it’s mostly downhill.  And since I wanted to stop and see Charlotte before heading over to the Myrtle Beach area, the part from Charlotte to Myrtle Beach will be on a US route that doesn’t exceed 60 miles an hour.  Coupled with the GPS screaming at you if you go 5 over the speed limit, I was able to pull this off at the end of the tank:

I didn't realize the display also functioned as a mirror.

That beats my previous record by nearly 4 MPG.  However, this little hypermiling activity did cost me some time.  I got to South of the Border around dusk.  For those of you unfaAmiliar, imagine the most cheesiest, borderline racist tourist trap you’ve seen.  Take that image, and multiply it by ten.  An homage to Mexico, made up entirely of things imported from Asia.  Since the last trip, I have noticed I’ve really somewhat lost the appreciation for tourist traps.  Now they more sort of disgust me, so I moved on.  As it was getting dark, had dinner and played a good hunch to turn in a bit early.  Hotels in the area were booking fast, so I was able to get a room to stay.

The next morning (Sunday), I decide I need a good workout.  Hotel treadmills will not cut it.  So I need to find an Anytime Fitness.  I have two choices — Florence or Conway.  Conway was a bit closer, so I chose that.  Home of Coastal Carolina University, it’s a little amusing to see rooster-themed businesses.  However, the choice cost me big time.  This was way off I-95, and the few miles closer it was to where I was staying was more than lost trying to get through some of the lesser advantaged places in South Carolina to get back to the freeway.  However, if I had not gone this out of the way path, I would have missed the restaurant that was made with me in mind:

However, this little detour caused me to get to the Lakeland area later than I wanted to, coupled with a “FOOD” sign on I-95 that clearly lied when it said a Subway was available.  And then the GPS told me the Comfort Inn was on somebody’s farm.  Once I got that straightened out, I was in for the night.

Monday’s activity was to be my first ever spring training game, followed by a long drive down to Homestead to set up for Tuesday.  First, I have to say Lakeland is a bit of a depressing town.  I was told that the area around the stadium was a bit run down.  I didn’t really see that, but the downtown area was dead.  The whole game experience was a bit weird.  Mostly Michigan plates in the parking lot, and seeing a major league game in a minor league atmosphere.  Well, at least the Tigers had the major league part.  The Jays sent a B squad consisting of only the starting pitcher, two regulars, a few subs, and some people they picked up at Home Depot.  The Tigers got off to a quick 9-0 lead in the 2nd, only to slowly fritter it away, requiring a save to be picked up for an 11-8 victory.  Omar Vizquel homered for the Jays, I’m always happy when players older than me are still active.  It was also a good microcosm for the upcoming season — Fielder homered (off a lefty!), Cabrera made an error, the most versatile player was starting at DH and the bullpen doesn’t really have effective long men.  Plus I actually found annoying Canadians.

Tuesday was to be devoted to seeing the Florida Keys.  Here is some advice to the Metro Key West Travel and Tourism board.  They have these things called buses.  You could buy a few, and have them travel between the tourist area and some parking lot in the outskirts of town.  Parking in Key West is very difficult, and having an already crowded area congested with lost cars does not help.

My left hip has been giving me intermittent problems.  And today was probably the worst.  Here I am, dressed like a 22 year old, and walking like a 62 year old.  That, and the absolute no-longer-cool-to-me kitsch of the downtown area was putting me in a foul mood, despite my 64 MPG getting there.  I was really getting conched out.  However, walking around some neighborhoods cheered me up (and somehow my hip got better too).

What I did not know that Key West was a favorite of Harry S Truman.  US-1 is called Truman Road, and there is also a Margaret Street honoring his daughter.  Key West honored the first lady in some interesting ways:

The White House sent their laundry there from 1945-1952.

Oh Bess!

I left earlier than I had planned. I felt just looking at the sea in relative solitude would be better.  I headed off to a state park: the Bahia Honda Park just west of Marathon Key.  Do not fret, it is not a state area succumbing to a corporate sponsor, it’s Spanish for Deep Bay.  In the distance in the park (actually pictured from the car) is a railroad bridge that was damaged in a 1935 hurricane.  The other picture is a nice shot of what I guess is technically still the Atlantic Ocean.  It’s facing south from the beach:

The Zombie Bridge. The beach pictures really didn't show it.

A conch eating tree. I would assume this would be during hurricane season.

Up next, Marlins stadium opener, Frozen Four and the Rays home opener. From what I’m hearing, I’m going to have to drive to Little Havana tonight so I can park for tomorrow.

For those in the know, I play a table-top baseball simulation called APBA. I’ve been playing it since I was 10. Like scoring baseball for real, no two people have the same way of doing it. Here’s the scoresheet I use, just before the start of a game between two 1978 draft teams (double click for larger version):
 
Unlike a lot of scoring schemes, I’m not going for a log, I’m just trying to collect stats.  For those of you familiar with APBA, you see the fielding grades before their position, and the pitching numbers above the lineups.  I use a modified grading system, so the numbers there are for hits-home runs-walks-strikeouts.  For example, instead of using W/Z for walks, I reroll a die and the number then determines walk/no walk.  And now that I’ve lost the non-APBA savvy audience, here’s the game in completed form:

And here’s the one problem with using the stat-oriented scoresheet.  It is impossible to tell that Paul Splittorff had a no-hitter into the eight inning, and once he collapsed, he collapsed.  And Jim Kern did no favors.  Other things of note:

• The D and W in front of the team names refer to ‘double play’ and ‘wild pitch’.  I keep track of those on a team basis.
• Changes in the lineup are denoted with the lowercase letters.  For example, for Calgary, Fred Stanley (‘a’) was replaced by Rodney Scott (‘a’ in the CHG column) in the 8th inning.
• The dots next to Jim Kern’s name refer to unearned runs.  I use that when tallying up the numbers when either the pitcher is replaced or at the end of the game.

However, the real reason I do this is somewhat ecological/economical, to get three games on one sheet:

Ooh…it’s pretty…and patriotic.  The second game is in red and the third game is in blue (even though Vida Blue pitched the red game).  A few more things:

• You’ll occasionally see letters above the players’ names.  Those are for the stats that don’t occur frequently enough to warrant a column (E=error, S=sacrifice hit, P=bunt; I also use F for sac fly).
• You obviously can only tell the batting order for game 1.  For example, Paul Molitor batted 8th in game 2 and 6th in game 3, but there’s no way to tell, not that it is terribly important in the scheme of things.

Of course, sometimes things can get pretty nutty, as shown by this series from my 1964 season:

Oh Bob Lillis, starting the season with an 0-for-10 is no way to go through life.  And yet another drawback of this system, I really wish I had that 18th inning logged out.

Hmm…I really wasn’t in the mood for Chinese anyway, let’s try another place…

I like ice cream, but I really need some protein.  Scrolling further down…

Hmm, more ice cream.  And that doesn’t even look kosher.  One more try…

I hate in when people think Chinese and Japanese food are the same.  Guess I’ll just eat in the hotel.

I ate less and exercised more.

Sorry it’s not more exciting than that, but it does sound harder than that.  So here’s what I did to make that possible.

You have to constantly remind yourself you want this. Keep the excuses to the minimum.  It’s OK to miss a day of exercise or eat more than you should once or twice a week, but you can’t continue to justify it.  And it will take longer the more you make the excuses.

Find your Achilles heel, and minimize it.  Mine was actually a joint one — snack chips and sugar.  I cut both down considerably.  You may want to journal for a week before you start, see what are easy cuts, and take them out.

It’s the calories stupid. Don’t overthink whether or not it has too many carbs, or it’s too fatty.  As long as you balance higher-fiber foods in, those will balance the carbs/fats.  It doesn’t mean continue them at what you have done before, but having some bread will not throw off whatever delicate equilibrium you were trying for.  Basic rule of thumb for me was your daily calorie intake should average 7.5 times your current weight, and make sure to get fruits and vegetables every day.  Go too high and you’re not going to lose anything.  Go too low and your metabolism will be slower than the relay race at the Molina family reunion.

You will not notice anything. Really, you don’t.  You see yourself all the time.  You’re going to be losing at best 4 ounces a day.  People who see you occasionally will be your biggest encouragement, since they will see you at 5-10 pound loss intervals.

You will have hunger pains. Deal with it.  I learned to counter that with either low calorie hard candies or fiber bars.  I’ve eaten lots of fiber bars.

You have to truly exercise. You should do exercise that will at least burn 100 calories a day.  For me that was a interval walk/jog combo that generally covered 1.25 miles in 16 minutes.  Also make sure you do it first thing in the morning.  It’s out of the way, and you can’t use the day got too busy later as an excuse.

Weigh yourself every day, but don’t sweat it day to day. What I ended up doing was weighing myself every morning after the exercise, but the number that mattered was the 7-day average.  Generally, that was half-a-pound higher than the daily, but it was steady drop.  If you follow only the daily fluctuations, you will only frustrate yourself.  And keep the numbers in a journal so you can make cute charts like this one:

The slight uptick was a two week vacation where I did not weigh myself.

Save splurging for eating out. The only time I really splurged was when I would eat out.  And that would mean still ordering the healthiest thing on the menu I would like.  Even the most innocent things on a menu will clock in with a 4-digit calorie figure.  And if you have to resort to fast food because you have no other choice, lay off the fries.  Pop is also pretty dangerous: 120 calories for every 8 ounces.

When you’re done, some habits you will not be able to bring back. You’ll just have to accept that.  You’re not young forever.

Hopefully if you’re thinking about this, you will take the steps necessary to go for it.  I’ve gone from a 40 waist to a 33.  I have not been a 33 since junior high.  You won’t need as much sleep and you won’t be as irritable.  And those things your doctor nags you about (cholesterol, triglycerides) will take care of themselves.

And the associated Weather Map:

Monday was pretty much a day just to bop around the L.A. area and give Susan a brief glimpse that all is wonderful with Southern California.  For a nice final good meal, we headed over to Paradise Cove in Malibu, home of the wayyy too big portions and the beach where’s it $25 to park, or $3 if you eat at the restaurant.  Susan finally was happy she was in weather that was considered temperate, while the restaurant had set up heaters for the outside diners and some people had sweaters again.  The proof continues.

Sadly, Tuesday meant Susan had to go back home.  Even more sad, that flight was a 7 am flight, which meant a 5 am wakeup to get to the airport.  Since it’s hard to just go back to bed after that, I did my laundry after dropping her off and my workout, meaning I truly did get more done before 9 am than most people do all day.  I also stopped in to the Burbank office to slog through 433 e-mails, and wonder who stole the ceiling.  Afterward I played trivia board games based on the 70s, 80s and 90s.  We both realized our age as the 90s game took a lot longer than the 70s or 80s games.

A lot of Wednesday was spent getting the Ted Marshall entry forms ready, meeting my cousin for lunch and attempting to golf.  I wasn’t really in the mood for a true 9, so I went to a par 3.  This par 3 totaled 664 yards, but the deceiving part was the course itself.  You were given only a sand wedge and a putter.  I realize I really suck at golf, but it’s very difficult for me to hit a sand wedge 75 yards.  The greens were the size of a kiddie pool and impossible to stick a ball on, and the putting surfaces were unreadable.  Not a pleasurable time by any meanings, thank God it only took 35 minutes.

After that debacle, I headed up to Lancaster, in the lovely Antelope Valley, to see the Lancaster JetHawks (A for the Astros) face the San Jose Giants.  First off, why isn’t this team just named the Antelopes?  I realize that the town is beholden to the aerospace industry, but why pass up advertising possibilities like “get a beer and see the Antelopes play”?  The team plays in Clear Channel Stadium, which used to be the best stadium in town, but they proceeded to buy other stadiums in town and turned them into clones of each other.

The game was sort of one for the ages, with the home team victorious 11-9 on a walk-off homer, coming from behind from a 7-0 deficit in the 2nd.  However, a lot of that comeback was just to dreadful pitching and fielding.  You did have the dichotomy of a 5-11, 210 batter facing a 5-11, 150 pitcher (I’m somewhere in between).  Sadly, the “minor league experience” was pretty bad.  The between inning stuff was pretty lame when they bothered to do it at all.  They had pom-pom girls rocking to the same terrible music over and over again.  And worse of all, I couldn’t buy a ball for Craig, since they didn’t sell any.  Also of concern was people coming to the stadium with jackets and blankets, since I was clad only in a shirt and shorts.  Although it got a touch cool, it was never uncomfortable and didn’t require extra layers.  Wimps.

After some work today, it’s on to the Matt O.-infused portion of the trip, where two people who live 60 miles apart have to travel 2,500 miles to spend time together.

The South rim of the canyon is accessible by only one route — Arizona 64, a mostly two lane road that is a long ways away from any real towns.  As you get to the front door in order to pay, you are greeted by a friendly Yooper who is just thrilled to see someone else speak English.  The first lesson you learn about the Grand Canyon is that Americans don’t seem to visit the place, it is simply a stop on the way to Disneyland for the the citizens of the European Union.

When you park your car, the first thing you do is hop onto a bus.  This first bus is deceiving, because it’s not very full and it goes to its destination quite quickly.  We first decide to go on a guided tour, which would start at one of the gift shops.  The nice lady, although clearly enthused about her job, bored us to tears in about 10 minutes waxing about pine nuts and juniper trees.  We left the tour and started out on our own, although my escape involved a brief jump into the cavern and a long climb back up.

Being at altitude, the first thing you want to do is to make sure you have enough water.  And most stores in the park sell a 1.5 liter bottle of water for $2, which is not bad for concession prices.  One problem — they do not chill the water.  It is only sold at room temperature.  So although it seems great when you buy the water at 10:30, by 5:00 you are putting the bottle inside fire pits just to cool it down a bit.

After some looks around the center area of the park, it’s time to go out into the “red trails”, a series of nine points spaced anywhere from 1/2 mile to 2 miles apart.  After the second point and the requisite pictures, we decide since the 3rd point is close to the 2nd, we can hike that one.  Big…honking…mistake.   This really zapped our energy.   Which means from that point on, it’s bus time between stops.

However, the buses on the “red trails” are much more crowded, don’t come as frequently and involve frequent invocations by the driver to not stand in the white area.  These invocations generally went unheeded, as the perpetrators of said infraction were pre-teen Europeans with little command of English.  Since the bus driver would not leave until this was rectified, one of the token Americans on the bus would simply nudge the kid until everything was kosher.

Another fun amenity of the red trail is only the furthest stop from the center of the park — Hermits’ Rest — features any sort of bathroom or refreshments.  So our plan to stop at all nine points ended up being stopping at 5 of the first 6 and then an immediate trip to Hermits to keep ourselves from going insane due to altitude sickness and dehydration, and also to put our water bottle in the snack bar’s microwave to cool it down a bit.  Although I’m in much better shape than I was 4 months ago — I was still not in shape for this.  And we’ve begun to believe that Susan is actually Inuit and cannot handle anything above 80 degrees.  And when you see a family of six coming in on bicycles from other parts, you just want to cry.

At this point, we had decided that people were no longer our friends and we needed to go to a quieter place in the park.  However, the place we decided was 45 miles away from our current location, which meant two bus rides and a 28 mile car jaunt.  There is nothing more fun than being packed into a standing-room only bus where nobody speaks English.  This lasted 40 minutes.  We then had another 25 minute bus ride to our car, and standing for both legs.  We finally get to the car and head over to the lighthouse.  We would think the Watchtower would have less people.

Sadly, we were mistaken.  Even more families with little control of their spawn and ruining what should have been a nice, reflective sunset.  Also scaring the crap out of me was Susan taking pictures a foot from the ledge.  She will contend she was farther away, but as soon as I get the images back from NASA I will be vindicated.  Once the sun finally disappeared over the north rim, people actually applauded.  Which is good I guess, because if the sunset didn’t happen, humanity would be doomed.  It’s important to be thankful for the little things.

After a long drive back, it was time to get back to the Canyon Country Inn for a quick night of sleep before heading out to California.  And nothing says country hospitality more than no air conditioning and Otis Spunkmeyer muffins.  To sort of keep ourselves at least in the running for a Bronze medal for Route 66 travels, we at least did the Williams-Kingman jog on 66.  At one stop in the gift shop, we ran into yet another German family.  Why are we encountering so many Germans?  And why does even cute back-and-forth between a mother and her daughter sound like threats of imminent danger?

We then head into the fun and excitement of the Eastern California leg.  Deciding that we had to do something out of the car, we head up to Mitchell Cave, a former mine about 100 miles east of Barstow.  This was a 16-mile trek where we encountered not a single car.  Getting up to the cave, Susan took some pictures of the vista and cacti.  On the way down, Susan all of a sudden yelled “Cows!”  Thinking I was about to hit a cow, but saw none, I then realize she wanted to take a picture of cows she somehow saw.  So, despite the fact we were in 93 degree desert heat, she somehow convinced four cows to pose for a picture.  I was freaking out because of their proximity.  Although I do have the cow insurance rider on the rental car, it does not cover Longhorns.

We finally decided after 400+ miles to call it for the day, and stopped in Victorville.  We are in an absolutely amazing Comfort Suites for a low price, so we’re guessing money laundering has gone upscale.  If you may remember from a previous day’s entry, I had great joy remembering a restaurant from the past.  Susan had great memories of El Pollo Loco when living in South Florida, so we decided to eat at one here.  After having a frankly crappy meal, we wondered what went wrong, since the menu was nothing like she remembered.  We then found out that the place she went to was actually a different chain, and now goes under the name Pollo Tropical.  Sadly for us, this chain confines itself to Florida in such cities as West Palm Beach, Orlando, North Bergen and Hartford.

Up next: Our final jaunt to Santa Monica (and we promise to actually use Route 66 for the remainder).

Day #6 (Wednesday) started out in Santa Rosa, New Mexico and the goal of the day was to spend the day in Albuquerque.  A short day of driving, pretty much nothing to see on the way.  First stop of the day once we got near ABQ was Turquoise Trail, which reaches its peak with a trip up to Sadina Peak, a 10K peak featuring one of the easier mountain roads I’ve encountered.  At the bottom of the hill was the Tinkertown Museum.  The only thing I will say about that place is never, ever go to the Tinkertown Museum.

Once we entered the Breaking Badlands, I entrusted the trip photographer/navigator to take some pictures of some of the sights of the fine TV show.  First up is the White household, which I’m sure they never get tired of people driving by:

Then a visit to put a call into Saul.  It’s actually a vacant store in a iffy strip mall a few blocks away from the White House, so just imagine the giant inflated Uncle Sam on top:

Next up is a picture that if you’re a fan of the show, you may sort of recognize…

…as another food location.  This mural is inside the front door.  Strangely, this location (one of 15 Twisters locations in ABQ) is next to an ostrich and goat pen.

We also tried to take a picture of the Hot Dog place where Jesse buys a gun (among other scenes), but when we drove by the lights were off.

Later in the evening we visited Isotopes Park, home of the AAA Albuquerque Isotopes and farm team of the Dodgers.  The opponent was the Sacramento River Cats, the main farm team of the Athletics.  By seeing the lineup for the Athletics I finally found out the Tigers are done screwing with Jeff Larish.  Hopefully he gets a chance with them.  Nothing really special with the food, other than I tried BBQ nachos.  Apparently the key here is volume, as the kids around us were constantly being fed junk food well into the later innings.  We also missed getting a t-shirt from the cannon by one seat.

The night was spent in the Plaza Inn, which was likely a Howard Johnsons in a past life.  I have to ask why in 2010 does a hotel room only have two outlets, and neither of them with three prongs?

Thursday’s drive began a long trip to get to near the Grand Canyon.  We stopped in Gallup for lunch, the town Bob Dylan use to claim he was from, and saw a wonderful downtown of run down Native craft store after run down Native craft store.  Crossing into Arizona, we went through Petrified Forest, where we experienced at least three different weather patterns through the 28 mile trip, and the world’s least competent gift shop clerk.   In Holcomb on the way to reconnect to I-40, we came across the 2010 winner of the “Best Reuse of an Old Motel Sign” award:

After skipping over Meteor Crater ($15 to see a hole in the ground), we stopped for dinner in Flagstaff.  I have to ask people more familiar than us, is there anything negative with that place?  Home prices too high?  Hard to find a job?  Just curious.

After that, it was a quick jaunt to our Bed and Breakfast in Williams…which does not have working air conditioning…in Arizona.  Tomorrow we’ll spend the whole day at the Grand Canyon.  I’ll let you know tomorrow if a Toyota Camry can jump the chasm.

After four days of doing this, we have come to a revelation.  This is actually a bit boring.  And once you get past Tulsa, it’s pretty barren, and most of US-66 is frontage road to I-40.  So, we’ve made a decision.  We know this is going to disqualify us from any Route 66 medal qualification, but we would rather travel leisurely than rushed.  So we’re cheating and using the interstate, but still going through the major towns.

So other than occasional photo-ops at rest stops, there’s nothing really to talk about until Amarillo.  We eat at The Big Texan, a kitschy place that is famous for offering a 72 oz. steak for free if you can eat it in an hour.  We found out that in addition to the steak, you must eat a baked potato, a salad, a roll and three pieces of shrimp.  As we were seated, another gentleman wanted to try this, so they seat him on a stage and start the clock.  As we were leaving, he had 6 minutes to go and pretty much no shot to finish.  He still had a significant amount of steak, although he had finished everything else.  For the record, I finished most of my BBQ sandwich and corn in 16 minutes.

Continuing on in Amarillo, I happened to find the only credit union in the country without an ATM.  After finally finding one with an ATM, we then moved on to the Cadillac Ranch.  For the uninitiated, it’s pretty much where people who are normally law abiding can spray paint anything: old cars, the ground, a poodle.

Unfortunately, my luggage became nonfunctional.  Amazingly, the towns we’ve been in lately have been too small even for a Walmart or a Target.  So until I can get to a town that has a store to purchase said product, I’m reduced to using a large pillowcase I had brought for dirty clothes.  All I need is the stick and I will have a complete bindle.  If that’s not the true Route 66 experience, I don’t know what is.

There’s really nothing much else to speak of, we’re presently in Santa Rosa, NM, about 90 min. east of Albuquerque.  This is 60 miles more than we intended to drive today, this allows us to be a little more time in ABQ tomorrow, where we plan to go to an Isotopes game and have a fine meal at Los Pollos Hermanos with my long lost buddy Saul Goodman.