GWSRT: Great Western Schizz Road Trip

So I’m sitting in Bender’s apartment with Vinz, waiting for Berk and Bender to get back from the liquor store with some PBR. Nothing starts off an epic road trip like a can of Pabst. And nothing personifies the class with which the four of us conduct ourselves like a cheap, watered-down domestic beer. If you’re inclined to look for omens, they don’t come much better than this.

Tomorrow we’ll head to the Thrifty rental car counter at O’Hare sometime around 10 am; pick up our minivan (side detailing optional); and set out for San Francisco on the open road.

Apparently we’re taking a cab to O’Hare, because, hey, we’re Big Ten champs, and we don’t take public transportation.

Over the next 11 days, we’re going to wind our way through the north-western (ouch!) part of the country: through the Badlands and Yellowstone; past Devil’s Tower and the Grand Tetons; and on in to Lake Tahoe and finally the Golden Gate. And hopefully, we’ll also hit the Corn Palace, which should satisfy my intense love of roadside tourist traps (if Wall Drug doesn’t do it first).

I’ve been looking forward to this trip for a long time. The price of gas could’ve cooperated a bit more, but road trip opportunities like this– with old, good friends– don’t come along every year. And I also think it’s a good thing that we won’t have any international border crossings (remind me to tell you a good story about coming back into the U.S. at Detroit!). We should have plenty of time for bonding, which will occur over conversations like tonight’s mini-debate (“Is Richard Marx the poor man’s Kenny Loggins? Discuss.”).

OK, Berk and Bendy are back with the brew. And Vinz is playing some– Hall and Oats?– on the stereo. It’s going to be a long trip at this rate. Time to crack a cold one and think about the road ahead…

Let’s do this!

It was super calafragilistic hot in Bender’s apartment the night before the road trip began. Vinz plugged in his iPod and DJ’d while we tried to cool ourselves down with refreshing PBRs.

In late June and early July, four old friends are taking a road trip from Chicago to San Francisco.

We figured it’s now or never – we’re all single, we love to take road trips, we can get the time off … and with the cost of gas so reasonable, now is a great time to drive 2500 miles in the middle of the summer.

Anyway, the trip hasn’t been taken yet, but here are some preview photos to tide you over.

With 10 miles down and 2490 to go, we decided we had earned a lunch stop at Buffalo Joe’s in Evanston. Vinz, Berk and Bender got suicide wings and RC Colas; Farney got mild wings and a diet Sprite. Pussy.

We attended a rodeo in Cody, Wymoning – “the Rodeo Capital of the World.” Bender, overly excited by the action, jumped into the ring and acted like a rodeo clown, but without the makeup. He was summarily tossed back into the stands by security.

After an awesome couple of days at Yellowstone, we headed south and hit the Grand Tetons. They were bodacious, beautiful, real and spectacular. Berk decided he would try to run all the way to the peak of one of the Teets, only to quit 10 minutes in. “These boobs are too big for me,” he mumbled on his way down.

Ah, Tahoe. The bluest and deepest lake in the US. We waterskied, hiked and (got) laid on the beach. Vinz made out with three women simultaneously at the blackjack table at Harrah’s, too.