We looked at each other and the earth moved...

August 24, 2011 - Upper Marlboro

Serry and I were biking yesterday on the Indian Head Rail Trail in southern Maryland. We stopped by a wooden deck overlooking a lake to check out the birds and butterflies when the deck and surrounding ground began to shake. For a moment we thought a train or something was causing the shake, but since there are no trains anywhere near, we quickly realized it was an earthquake! We'd never experienced an earthquake before (and figured we never would), so it was kind of amazing to feel the earth move like that. When we got home we found a couple of things had fallen off shelves and a few pictures hanging askew, but no damage of any kind.

Others were not so lucky. Serry visited a friend this morning who had a dresser topple over and a TV fall from a wall, among other things.

One of our friends was kayaking on the Patuxent River when the quake occurred. She said when it started it felt like a huge fish brushing the bottom of the boat, and then bubbles rose. Finally, the river seemed to erupt, with churning water and waves, something that never happens on the placid Patuxent.

An article today in the Washington Post said the quake lasted about 30 seconds, but it seemed to last no more than about 5 seconds where we were. Perhaps that's because we were in the country, where there were fewer things to shake than in the city, or perhaps it lasted longer in some places than others. Whatever, since we weren't harmed, it was an interesting experience, one we never expected to have--certainly not so close to home.

Colonoscopy

August 11, 2011

This entry has nothing to do with traveling (other than my "journey through life"--poetic and deep, huh?). It's really more of a journal entry about something interesting that happened to me. Perhaps no one else will read it, but I'll read it sometime and be reminded of the incident. I found that by reading my blog entries of our cross-country trip, I was reminded of things I had forgotten. So here goes...

In June I had a routine colonoscopy. I had my first one about three years ago, during which the doctor found a couple of polyps and was able to remove them with the colonoscopy tube. They turned out to be benign, but when they find any you're supposed to have another colonoscopy in about three years (rather than ten).

Anyway, when I woke up after the one in June, the doc told me she found a flat polyp which she wasn't able to remove. She advised me to contact one of her associates who is skilled at removing the flat ones.

A regular polyp is like a little mushroom on a stalk. The tube snaking through the intestines has a cutter on the end that allows the doctor to snip and remove the polyp. They need to be removed because they can turn cancerous if allowed to remain. As I understand it, there are two ways to remove a flat polyp. The good way is for the doc to somehow squirt a saline solution on the flat polyp with the colonoscopy tube in hopes of lifting it enough to be able to get under it and snip it out. If the saline solution method doesn't work, the polyp has to be removed via an endoscopic procedure which involves removing the part of the intestine that has the flat polyp. This means you wind up with a colostomy. It will probably be only temporary, but yikes! Who knows how long "temporary" might mean? A minute would be too long as far as I'm concerned.

I had the saline solution procedure on August 2, and I'm happy to say it was successful, and the polyp was benign. Nevertheless, to be sure he got everything, the doc wants to take another look in six months. Another opportunity to drink a gallon of the awful stuff that cleans out the intestines. Better than getting cancer, of course, but only barely.

Dad has a nook, I read a paper book, 7/15/2011

July 24, 2011-Upper Marlboro, MD

Some observations about the Mississippi trip before I forget:

• Earlier, I mentioned that we were stuck in the airport in Kansas City for so long that electronic devices were running out of battery power. I remarked to Michael that someone should invent charging stations for airports. Lo and behold, when we got to the Minneapolis airport a little later, there they were! Amazing! Someone who must have been able to read my mind invented and installed these things while we were in the air. Is this a great country, or what?!
• Interstates are great for long distance travel, but the local highways we took on this trip give you a real picture of small-town America. It's interesting but also kind of sad. Many of these towns failed in the late 1800s. They still operate, but they're not thriving. And with low-paying jobs and low property values, many of the residents can't afford to move.
• I enjoyed being alone with Michael on this trip, and I think he enjoyed our time together as well. I'd never before been alone with Michael--or with Donna, for that matter--for more than an hour or so. It was a nice experience which I really will treasure.

Everything in town is named after Mark Twain, 7/23/2011

July 21, 2011--St. Louis, MO

It turned out that Hannibal was almost as empty during the day as it is at night. We went to the Mark Twain Boyhood Home and Museum, and there were no more than about 20 other people there. Not the crowds we expected. This area contained an interpretive center, as well as Twain's boyhood home and the homes of the real people who were the models for Huck Finn and Becky Thatcher.


The museum is a National Historic Landmark, 7/24/2011

These exhibits were more interesting than we expected, primarily because almost all of the descriptions were from Twain's own writing. If you haven't read him in a long time it's good to remember that his fame as a writer is well-deserved.


Front and back of monument on Lover's Leap (click to enlarge), 7/24/2011

After that we started to stroll through town again, but it was just too hot, so we took a short drive to Lovers Leap. It seems like every town with an appropriate spot has a lovers leap, and the back story always seems to involve a Romeo-and-Juliet-like story but with indians: her dad won't let her marry him, so instead of just hopping in a canoe and paddling down the river, they both jump to their deaths. What's up with that?


The Jefferson National Expansion Memorial (Gateway Arch), 7/24/2011

We're now in St. Louis for the night. We had dinner in the middle of town near Washington University and Forest Park and then drove down to the Arch. We visited the Arch some years ago when I drove Michael back from Colorado State, so we just walked around outside. Still hot.

Tomorrow: home.

Toolesboro Indian Burial Mounds, 7/23/2100

July 20, 2011--Hannibal, Missouri

Have I mentioned how hot it is?

We left Dubuque this morning on the way to Wapelo, IA, so Michael could visit the Toolesboro Indian Burial Mounds, a must for anyone who wants to see two small grassy humps. Certain indian tribes buried their dead in these mounds during the period 100BC - 200AD. There used to be lots of them throughout the eastern part of the country, but most were plowed under when the land was cleared for farming. When we got to the visitors building it was closed, and we thought we had driven a long way for nothing, but the young lady manning the building arrived a short time later, so we were able to see the small museum on the site. As it turned out, even with the building open we did travel a long way for nothing. Oh well. We did think it was interesting that even though we were the only visitors and were clearly not from the area, the young lady (who had nothing to do but read her magazine) didn't even ask us where we were from.


A sad, and troubling sign, 7/23/2011

As we continued our drive along the river in Iowa we began to see evidence of the terrible flooding that took place during the spring: stunted crops, driftwood on peoples' lawns, washed out bridges requiring looong detours, etc. We passed through a number of poor, dying towns, including a town called Sabula (Iowa's only island city), in which there was a large, angry hand-printed sign apparently blaming the town's troubles on the presence of a sex offender released from prison who was living there. A sad, and troubling, sign.


A magical picture, 7/23/2011

We arrived in Hannibal, MO, Mark Twain's boyhood home, around 6PM, so everything was closed for the day. We figured the crowds would arrive the next day to visit the tourist sites, so we took a walk around the deserted town. Had dinner at a restaurant in which we were the only diners. Then went down to the riverfront to watch the paddle boat return from its dinner cruise. Lots of elderly ladies dressed in pastel slacks and tops, a far cry from Serry, who only wears New York black, regardless of the weather. (Did I mention how hot it is?) While we were by the river Michael put the camera on timer and took our picture. A guy getting out of his car said he had never seen such a thing!


To Donna?, 7/23/2011

Then Michael forced me to climb about 300 steps, in 95 degree heat, to a lighthouse in the town. I know he's trying to kill me so he can inherit what fortune I may have. He still doesn't realize that we're leaving everything to Donna.

July 19, 2011--Dubuque, Iowa

Northern MN is very flat with lots of lakes and rivers caused by the last ice age. Whenever you look out the car window, if you don't see a lake, you see a pond. Very wet. And flat. About 20 south of Minneapolis, however, it began to be full of rolling farm land, and then it became somewhat mountainous. Not the Rockies, but more than hills. Anyway...

After breakfast this morning we went to the Red Wing shoe store to see the world's largest boot. It's an actual boot about 20 feet high built by the Red Wing shoemakers, just real big! Anything to get into the record books.


Using his thumbnail, Dad carved his name into a hide that was on display at the Red Wing historical exhibit.
I did not do this. 7/18/2011

After our hearts stopped pounding, we continued on our way to Wabasha, MN. The National Bald Eagle Center is there, but there's an admission price, so it wasn't for us. We went to the riverfront and saw our own bald eagle. Wabasha is another one of those towns that died a long time ago but still struggles to stand up. Empty streets at 11:30 in the morning, lots of shuttered stores, etc. Sad. Michael loves to stroll through these towns.


Despite having the Eagle Center, Wabasha was empty. 7/18/2011

We then continued down the road to lock number 5 on the river and watched a boat push I think 12 barges (hooked together) through the lock. The barges had to be unhooked and it took two raisings and lowerings to get them all through. Very time-consuming, and there are lots of locks that have to be gone through. Not the most interesting work in the world. Not like accounting, say.


The gray things in the foreground are the covers on barges in Lock No. 5. We watched as the barges were lowered in the lock. 7/18/2011

The next stop was Winona (Michael said Winona Ryder is named after this town). Larger than Wabasha, and loaded with interesting architecture from the 1800s, but dead. After that we crossed into Wisconsin and drove through the Trempeleau National Wildlife Refuge that is attempting to bring back the prairie grasses. Interesting. We would have taken a walk there, but the deer flies were swarming the car, and we didn't dare.


Hills in the Trempeleau Nat'l Wildlife Refuge. 7/19/2011


The super cool, Prairie School, Merchant's National Bank in Winona was a surprise in the center of a town made up of mostly late 19th century buildings.

After driving through enormous farms of corn, and on our way to Dubuque, we were passing through the little town of Dickeyville, WI, when we stumbled upon the Dickeyville Grotto, an absolutely amazing roadside attraction. The grotto is on the grounds of a Catholic church, The priest, Father Matthias Wernerus, who was there for about 30 years, spent five years building the grotto out of bits of broken glass, shells, stones, and other pieces of stuff he found. It's indescribable; you'll have to Google it or something.


Dad at Dickeyville Grotto. 7/19/2011


The hazy evening made it difficult to capture the grotto's splendor. 7/19/2011


A detail of the grotto. It was made up mostly of shells, glass, and rocks. 7/19/2011

We're spending the night in Dubuque. Tomorrow we head to Hannibal, Missouri, Mark Twain's birthplace.

St Anthony Falls, Minneapolis, MN
July 18, 2011--Red Wing, MN

Omigod...it's hot!!

After leaving St. Cloud this morning we traveled slowly south along the Mississippi. To take a break from driving, we stopped at a small roadside park and walked to the river. Tied to a tree was a rope that kids use to swing out and drop into the water. Just like a Norman Rockwell painting, except these kids probably wore their baseball hats sideways and wore those goofy shorts that end about an inch above the ankles.

Then we continued on our way to Minneapolis so Michael could visit the Walker Art Gallery, a nifty looking place that, unfortunately, is closed on Mondays. An odd-looking artsy kid working at the gallery suggested we cross the street to an outdoor sculpture garden, which we did. Nice, but talk about hot! So we made our way to St. Anthony Falls, the site of the first lock on the river. In the 1800s they built power plants by the falls and there were a lot of lumber mills, which, after the forests were all harvested, were replaced by flour mills, like Pillsbury. The original mills are now in ruins, but the city kept the ruins and developers are building trendy condos among them. Pretty neat. Richmond has done something similar along the James River by the old tobacco warehouses.

Anyway, it was much too hot to stay here too long, so we headed to the Mall of America. Really something to see: nice stores, an amusement park in the middle of the mall, and air conditioned! It's apparently one of the country's major tourist attractions. Worth seeing if you're out this way.

We're now in Red Wing, where they make Red Wing boots and shoes. Maybe we'll tour it tomorrow. We drove down to the river after dinner, and many of the boats there are housed in what look like floating garages. Pretty unusual...I think.