Color Me Bad

Okay, this is a little embarrassing. I'm three months removed from the end of the road trip and still three (maybe four) posts away from finishing the recap. At some point, I'm going to need to have a conversation with myself about accountability. I'll get around to it. Promise.

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One of the benefits this trip provided -- and really this could be said for any trip -- was the juxtaposition of all of the presumptions I had about places as abstract, faraway ideas with the fine, textured immediacy of their reality. As a kid, it was easy to write off much of the Northern United States as an unremarkable, vaguely brownish landscape with harsh winters and a mountain where some kook had long ago carved the faces of four former presidents. And can you blame me? My education on much of what the United States looked like, outside of the things I saw on TV and in movies, was limited to cartoonish maps hung up in elementary school classrooms with only a couple of "defining" characteristics drawn within the boundaries of individual states. I can imagine kids who grew up on the east coast picturing California as a tableau of palm trees, surf boards, and the Hollywood sign, all hanging out underneath a generically cheerful sun wearing sunglasses and a shit-eating grin.

And so it was deeply satisfying to arrive in South Dakota and find dense pockets of strange, unexpected landscapes, tucked in the folds of, sure, an unremarkable, vaguely brownish backdrop, but nonetheless vibrant with its own history and character. We passed through most of the state on the same day we left Minnesota, taking I-90 across to the southwestern portion, where the Badlands National Park awaited. The park, and much of the land in the region, served as important hunting grounds to various Native Americans tribes throughout the centuries, most recently and notably the Lakota tribe. Their years of forced relocation by and open warfare with the U.S. government in the 19th century are well-documented, as are the struggles that they continued to face in the 20th century and beyond. Despite these struggles, today the tribe co-manages the Stronghold District of the park -- a large swath of land used as a gunnery and bombing range by the U.S. Air Force in the 1940's -- with the National Parks Services. Its plains are rich with life, both fossilized and wild, and stretch to infinity in the same way The Lion King made you believe the earth could stretch.

However, the Badlands gets its name not from its prairies but from its coarsely barbed, craggily tumbling expanse of spires and buttes. The same erosion that shaped the rugged, broken beauty seen today will eventually wipe this patch of earth clean. On the scale of the earth's geological life, this place is a blip, no more than a zit in the course of planetary puberty. But today, it's a god damned sight to see.

Chinese tourists are EVERYWHERE.

Day 2 daybreak:

There (and back again?).

Lake Show

Minneapolis is one of those cities that gradually moved up on my radar the last few years. Before I moved to New York, I could only hazard a meek guess at where Minneapolis even was (I used to mix up Minnesota with Montana, strictly because both were vaguely "north" and started with M's). I can't believe it to be a quirk unique to the west, but it does seem most Californians are afflicted with an especially myopic handle on geography. And who can blame us? The Pacific is a powerful, dominant force, and for much of my life, I only knew the coast. I knew San Diego and San Francisco, and could proudly point out Oregon and Washington. Las Vegas was the easternmost city I could definitively locate. Everything beyond fell within the vast, shifting borders of the "East," "South," or "Midwest."

I don't know if it was a result of simple maturity, or whether it had more to do with the fact that I had physically seen and familiarized myself with more places in the U.S., but my time in New York saw a pretty impressive sharpening of my geographical literacy (I'd venture as far as to even say that I was reading U.S. maps at the fourth, maybe even fifth, grade level). On top of such rapid development, I also began to meet a lot more people who were not from the places I was from. And that was when Minneapolis stepped out of the shadows of abstraction. Several of the friends I met in New York were from Minneapolis, the majority of them inclined toward the arts. And it was through knowing them and hearing their stories that slowly, I began to understand Minneapolis as more than just an inchoate place. It formed, in bits and pieces, into somewhere that was richly metropolitan yet textured with natural splendor, creatively vibrant but also touched by an almost bucolic, uniquely-Minnesotan charm.

It wasn't a difficult decision to make sure I stopped by on the way back to California. And it won't be a difficult decision to go back again in the future. Minneapolis was bewitching in all the ways I hoped it would be.

The Minneapolis Institute of the Arts

Multi-sided solid from Dürer's Melencolia I.

We had to hit up the Mall of America, just to see it.

Four stories, over 400 stores...

...with a branded amusement park in the middle of it? Yeah, that's pretty American.

I much preferred the parks.

Minnehaha Falls in Minnehaha Park is usually a bit more spectacular. But even in the dry season, it makes for a good destination.

Look! All of that is in the middle of a park! There are over 180 parks in the city, and each one puts your city's park to shame.

We had a few good meals and caught a small show at 7th Street Entry (the historic First Avenue was dark for the night, unfortunately). It was an easy visit, an easy place to leave a little piece of my heart. And after, onwards.

Roadside stop.

Remember what I said about pictures of corn?

 I'm not sure if Roy's taking a leak or a picture in this shot.

There are many oddities by the road on these drives.

 But also a lot of beauties.

 Keep truckin'.

Breezing Through

I enjoy Chicago. It's a charming place, a bastion of urban seduction lying at the end of many a long highway stretched across the Midwest. It has all the trappings of a major metropolis, good and bad, but manages to maintain a certain energy that I can't really pin down. It eludes me, so mostly I attribute it to the irresistible influence of the Midwest's charms. It's not as crowded or rushed as New York, but still remains bustling. The people -- and their stories -- are diverse, and yet there isn't the same kind of coldness that gets attached to the anonymity of urban life. Granted, I can only see Chicago with a visitor's eye, but its vibe speaks of openness and space -- enough for everyone to carve out their own lives while remaining comfortably linked to their neighbors, their neighborhoods, their city.

Or maybe it's just the FREE city zoo.

One of the highlights of the road trip as a whole was the meal at Alinea. Our last month in New York, we basically went all out, trying to eat at as many of the restaurants on our bucket list as possible, knowing that fine dining still has some catching up to do on the west coast. That enthusiasm carried over to Chicago. My wallet was not pleased. My stomach was ecstatic. Ultimately, it was worth the hype and the hit to the pocketbook. Even more than the many standouts on the impressive 19-course tasting menu, what stuck with me most was just that it was the most fun I've ever had at a meal. I look forward to when I'll be able to do it again.

Here's a peek at just one of the courses.

We also caught up and caught a meal with our friend Mina. There's something so joyous, and just a touch maudlin, about seeing your New York friends when none of you are New Yorkers any more. But life always moves us forward. And Chicago always treats me well.

After that, it was back onto the I-90 with those august Midwestern skies...

...kicking off the most bewitching leg of our trip that would last the next several days. It started with Wisconsin.

A pleasant lunch stop in Madison. A good friend of mine got arrested here once. I had better luck.

The clouds turn quickly out here.

But the storms turn just as quick.

Next stop, Minneapolis.