Why Is Your Last Name Wong?

Day Nine: All Good Things Must Come to an End, for now.

I had a short but great nights sleep in my cheap motel with blood splattered carpet.  If there’s any spirits with unfinished business they must have been busy tormenting their killers or their families instead of sticking around this hole.  I hop out of bed and take a shower. When I walk back in the main area I realize I’m standing on one of the stains with wet feet.  I start thinking about whatever it is becoming fluid again which prompted me to go give my feet another rinse. After drying off I check to see what kind of mileage I’m dealing with today.  I’m looking at about 340 miles to home, quite a few miles shy of yesterdays run.  This shouldn’t be an issue should I need to make the final push today but I have some very serious business I need to take care of first. 

 

Visit the Corn Palace!  Much like Wall Drug the corn palace seems aware of how…corny it is.  When I pull up the area is pretty calm, that’s not to say I expected a riot of frothing tourists waiting to shove themselves into the door it’s just a nice chill day.  I find a place to park on the street about a block away and walk up to and into the Corn Palace.  Now as I kid I didn’t get to go inside, in my mind it would be similar to the ride inside the Epcot globe at Disney World.  Maybe some animatronic figures telling me about the history of corn and some large interactive science museumesque type interactive displays. As I walk in I’m greeted by yet another very friendly gentleman, “Welcome to the Corn Palace Sir! Just follow the husks of corn to start your tour!” I give an enthusiastic thanks and stroll into the doors.  Right as I walk in theres a TV playing some tourist stuff about South Dakota and to to the left there’s a concession stand filled with corn related food items which they’ve cleverly labeled “Corncessions”.  I find this weak and obvious pun far too funny and laugh for a good five strides as I keep following the husks of corn.  The walls are filled with pictures of the palace as it was decorated in each year of its existence.  For those who dont know they change the outsides designs every year, I’m not sure about the interior.  I walk into the main area and find out its a gym/theater.  I would have felt disappointed if I didn’t think it made sense. The center of the gym floor is a souvenir shop filled with more corn and South Dakota related trinkets. When I’m scanning the shop I notice a gem of a family.  The father was in standard dad attire; cargo shorts, some tshirt he got for free, and sandals.  Nothing terribly offensive but the same cant be said about his son.  I’m not sure what his top would qualify for, tank top? No, those usually cover your ribs. In any case it was a piece of fabric that had a neck hole with nothing resembling a sleeve and no fabric till the openings on the sides reached below the line that he had his underwear pulled up beyond.  The khaki shorts and backwards cap lightly propped on the back of his head were just garnish on the fashion masterpiece that was his top. Anyway enough about Mitchell South Dakota fashion, I was ready to get going. 

I hadn’t had any breakfast and wouldn’t mind some coffee so I hit up the closest place which is called Jitters.  I order a pretty standard meal of eggs, sausage, and pancakes.  When I’m eating an older mother and daughter come in for some coffee.  They’re asking questions I’d expect from some douchey coffee snob would ask at the fair trade only vegan bakery/cafe but the girl working was surprisingly up to the task answering all of their questions with ease.  They get their coffees they quizzed so tirelessly about and leave, shortly after I pay and move on my way. 

I feel like a seasoned veteran by now, I get to Souix Falls in no time.  With a full belly and the coffee buzzing I dont feel like stopping.  A few more miles down the road and there it is, “Welcome to Minnesota”.  I feel this is an accomplishment worth stopping for so I hit the rest stop that rides just on the boarder.  This one is nicer than any other I had been to, plenty of comfy chairs to rest in, coffee, cookies, vending machines, there’s even a women behind the counter handing out maps, tour guides, and activity books for the kids.  While I’m sitting in one of the chairs enjoying the free coffee two old men walk in about 5 minuets apart, one goes “WOW now THIS is a rest stop” and the other professes that this is the greatest rest stop he had been to having been to all 50 states Minnesota being his 50th.  It is nice but it makes me wonder how bad some of the others are.  After sucking down the coffee and soaking in the feeling of being in my home state I get moving.  

I had intended on staying at my friends in Pipestone this night but there was some chance at rain, it was only 1:00 and he didn’t get off work till 7:00, and it sounded like he wanted to check out some motorcycle that night.  Factoring all this in I decided against waiting forever with a chance of rain and to just rip home while its clear.  I reached Albert Lea in good time and I decided I’d stop at a Chinese restaurant in town.  Parts of my family had lived in Albert Lea at one point so I figured why not give the oldest sounding place a try and maybe they’ll know or be some of my family.  I find a place called “China Restaurant” and when I walk in I hear Mandarin, nope not family.  I sit down to get some food and ask anyway and I was right.  The waitress said “They moved away to California a long time ago, better weather than here”.  I order the chicken lomein and pound it down at a rate that actually made the waitress gasp.  ”You eat it so fast I never see someone eat it so fast”.  I pay my bill get on my bike and start heading up 35w, I’ll be home in no time.

Wrong, did you forget how Minnesota works? Construction is imminent, you’re not going anywhere fast.  Traffic crawls to a stop, “Construction next 14 miles” wonderful.  I entertain myself as much as I can by swerving back an forth in the one lane thats open for this stretch of road.  This gets old in about 2 mins and I’m back to finding other ways to channel my boiling road rage.  Yelling along to the song helps but after 10 minuets I suffer the consequences of not charging my iPod for two days.  After another 40 minuets of mental anguish I’m finally moving at the posted speed limit again.  It’s at this time I almost get hit by some idiot texting away while driving.  I slam my horn which gives out an embarrassing note and flick the guy off.  Like all retards that text and drive he doesn’t give a shit about my reaction.  Now I see why some Harley riders have rubber mallet holsters on their bikes.  As I’m riding I start to see towns I’ve actually heard of, then towns I’ve been to, then a town I play hockey at weekly.  It’s right about this point where I’m driving past a cloverleaf where someone is trying to merge from the right and I want to get out of the way to let him in.  I’m cruising in my top gear and give it some gas which is enough to get in front of the car in the left lane if he keeps his pace, he doesnt.  For whatever reason he felt the need to hammer his throttle and not allow me in, he’s blocking me from moving over and the car to the right needs to merge now.  I downshift and sprint ahead of the asshole to my left and just keep going at a now faster speed.  It’s been less than 2hrs in Minnesota and I’ve had the only two close calls in my entire trip and a traffic jam that took nearly an hour to get through.  Some welcome home.  

Before stopping home I want to visit my girlfriend Lydia at work so I shoot over to her place only to find out she was called off for the day because it wasnt busy.  After calling her I found out she’s in the area and she ran out to meet me.  After a long hug and kiss I see if she wants to get some food but she’s going to hit the gym.  I’m in my home city and I want a beer so I head over to Namaste Cafe where my friend/roommate Katie works.  I find a parking spot on the street nice and close where I can watch my bags plop down on one of the patio spots and enjoy my beer after chatting with her in the short amount of time she can since its busy.  It’s a weird thing to do something so familiar at the moment your trip ends.  I’ve done so much in the past nine days and here I am doing something I’d normally do on a early Friday evening.  I sit spaced out listening to the hisses of ear damage suffered from long days on the road.  After a bit I snap out of it, it’s time to go home.  

I hop on the freeway and reach home in 5 minuets.  Friend/Roommate Joe is home and I tell him as much about the trip that my blog hasn’t already as I unpack my bags for the last time.  When I walk inside I’m not sure if it feels good to be home or just familiar.  I missed hockey, I missed my friends, but I already miss the road.  I never thought I’d say that, I never liked road trips but I do miss the thought of waking up every day and going.  There was a moment back at the rest stop where I was reading a sign listing distances to other major cities on I90 “New York, NY 1,300 miles” and thought to myself “I could do that”.  

P.S. I’ll have one more wrap up post about this journey.

  1. whyisyourlastnamewong posted this