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Final Stage - Ottawa, Canada - 3000 miles, give or take a couple of yards

THE CONDIMENT MAP
I had to make the map a link to my FaceBook page, as the photo kept rotating when I put it here - go figure...

Anyway...

Day Four - The Big Push.

Why we were late.

But I've jumped ahead.
You'll remember, gentle reader, that I was too knackered to put together a blog on the third evening. Because of this wimpy attitude, I completely neglected to give a shout out to the O'Neill's - the kind of family that takes in a couple of waifs, plies them with vittles, and then send them on their merry way stuffed full of hearty food and good cheer.
I've known John and his brood for a while now, and the last time I visited their (quite frankly extraordinary) house, I drew a quick Spiderman picture on the kids' chalkboard.

Imagine my delight to discover that they had refused to let anyone erase it for the past 4 years! I had to leave them a special gift - so they ended up with Proto-Flea which, with a bit of luck, will be worth a fortune on eBay one day.

The next morning, we awoke to a table bowing under the weight of cereal and, having thoroughly filled our boots, we were soon on our way to Ottawa.



But again - I jump ahead of myself.

You may recall my reservations about Guido picking sage brush and bringing it into the cab for us to smell and 'enjoy'.
Well, over the next couple of days he developed an amazing rash and claimed he was being poisoned by American meat. The turkey in his sub in particular.

An artist's impression of Guido's rash.

Me, being the voice of reason, kept saying, "No, it's that bloody sage brush", but my complaints fell on deaf ears. It was only while at the O'Neill house, that Alice, John's wife, pointed out the complete and utter toxicity of the plant - hence Guido's unsightly blemishes.
Suffice to say, the offending plant was tossed out of the truck that morning.

You might think that was enough adventure for one day - but no, not with Guido in tow.



We finally reached the border at Port Huron, and I trembled with anticipation at what the border guards would ask me. Would they believe my story? Would they search the truck? Would they find the box of bird seed? In my nervousness, I drove into the wrong lane, and had to endure the humiliation of trying to pass my documents to a woman 10 feet higher than my window. After this, she eyed us with suspicion, and pointed us towards a grey building full of grey people with guns.
I enjoyed a brief interview with the lady behind the counter, who seemed to accept my reasons for entering Canada, and then it was Guido's turn.

Firstly, it was very hard for any of the stony-faced staff behind the counter to believe that a human would spontaneously fly out to San Jose to help his friend drive across the country and then fly home. This just isn't done in this day and age, sir.

Then Guido, being a laid back Dutchman, had ABSOLUTELY NO PROOF that he wasn't planning to illegally immigrate to Canada. He had no printed travel documents, didn't actually know how he was getting back to Holland next Sunday and had conveniently forgotten that he had previously applied for Canadian citizenship a while ago. It all looked very suspicious indeed.
My stomach flipped and flopped as I listened to him dig himself deeper and deeper, and then miracle of miracles, she took pity on this pair of fools, and let us go.
We left Sarnia in our dust!


We were lulled into a false sense of security as we entered the land of beavers and bacon, when we were greeted by a beautiful double rainbow.

But then we remembered, where there is a rainbow, there is usually moisture, and we found ourselves driving the last, 10 hour leg, in pouring rain.

No rain for three days in the USA, then a torrential downpour for the entire Canadian stretch - it was a sign.

Following our 354th gas stop, we finally reached Ottawa, and snuck into the house at 2:30am - there to flop into our beds and dream of wide turns and pancakes.

In the morning we were greeted by the family, I got a kissy from Harry,


and Guido got to meet dumpling.



We had made it. 3000 miles in a U-haul truck in 4 days.
We were exhausted, itchy, stinky and broke, and wouldn't have missed the opportunity of doing it. What an awesome adventure!

I'll be posting more pictures on my FaceBook page in the near future - and eventually Guido's insane blog will rear its head- so stay tuned!

Thanks for joining us on this ride.

Neil and Guido.
XX

Stage 3 - St. Charles, Illinois - 2,134 miles

THE CONDIMENT MAP


Today's total route is brought to you by an actual condiment - I have included the packet as proof.
Finally, a practical use for dairy creamer.

OK - here's the thing. It's 11pm right now, and we get up at 7am tomorrow for a 16 hour push to Ottawa (not including potty breaks) - so I don't think I've got it in me to do a blog proper.

I really should have thought this through...

That said, I'll leave you with some shots from today to keep you happy, and then when I get home, I'll finish off the blog and make it all shiny. I'll even get Guido's blog up and running.

Sorry for the delay.

sunrise in Nebraska

fuel

more fuel

dutch trucker

sunset on the Mississippi

Cheerio!

N

Stage 2 - North Platte, Nebraska - 1,431 miles

THE CONDIMENT MAP

It turns out, the rumours that Nebraska hasn't discovered condiments yet were true. Therefore, our progress thus far is brought to you today by some volunteers from my tuna salad sandwich.

Disclaimer: This blog should, and will be, a bit longer, but it's super late and I'm knackered.

2 - Altered States

The day started early - silly early.
4:45am reared its ugly head, as did the Dutchman, and both yanked me kicking and screaming from my slumber. The one upside of this was we were able to raid the continental breakfast before the rest of the guests, thus depriving them of their cheap danishes and mini bagels.
Not really sure where this concept of a 'continental breakfast' came from, as it is nothing like the folks in Continental Europe eat. Perhaps the 'continental' bit just refers to the fine continent of North America.
Anyhoo - I digress.


We were on the road and filling the gas tank before the sun rose again - the first of 19 gas stops today.


It wasn't long before we left Nevada in our dust and swanned into the bountiful land of Utah.


The sun rose, and we gazed upon the salt flats in wonder. Then we gazed upon them with tedium, and finally we gazed upon them with blind hatred.


It was at this point that Guido 'Rumble Stripper' Lek, decided to jeopardize the entire trip by stopping to pick some sage brush.


Not only am I sure that this is illegal, and that he will be barred from entering Canada with it, but he insisted on hanging it in the cab of the truck, which caused our noses and eyes to water relentlessly and could only be counteracted by an obnoxious act from me.

After driving past Salt Lake City while sleeping, we decided to have second breakfast on top of a mountain, where we met a nice chap called Ken who shared his table with us, and then his anti-Muslim sentiments.
Ah, lovely. Then he had to go as he was late for church.

Our favorite gas station so far has been Sinclair as they are honest enough to remind us where our gas comes from.


We sidled quietly out of the land of temples and into Wyoming, the land of cattle and men who love them.


Wyoming was pretty groovy, lots of interesting rocks and plenty of cows, all of whom refused to return our 'moos'.


It was in this state that we received a call from my bro-in-law, Paul, who suggested we press onto North Platte in Nebraska.


After much agonising and lots of coffee, we decided to follow his advice, and this is where I sit, typing...

So all in, including brief stops, we pulled a 15 hour day. I'm thinking of changing my name to Numm Buttox.

Onwards, ever onwards - to Chicago!

Pray for us.
Unless you are Ken.

N.

me co-pilots

Stage 1 - Elko, Nevada - 547 miles.

THE CONDIMENT MAP



Today's route is brought to you by a pomegranite ceasar dressing that came with my salad this evening.

DAY 1

The day started slowly.

Keen to get going as early as possible so as to make good time, we limped away at 10 AM. This was due in part to having to ram more bits and bobs into the back of the truck, and me lingering around for as long as possible.

an empty truck

a full truck

Finally though, we were off!
So far we have used the GPS twice. Once to find the Fry's in Fremont so that we could buy a boom box, and then to find an In and Out Burger for lunch. Awesome.
Thereafter we were navigating by our wits alone, and the signs that said I-80 East.

guido eats

neil regrets

But I have jumped ahead. Surely you must be longing to know about the protagonists of this epic journey. Firstly we have Eric Roberts, the comedy side-kick orangutan. Eric was monickered thusly due to the fact that I had just seen 'Sharktopus' starring said brother of Julia Roberts, and couldn't erase the taste from my eyes. This is a legitimate statement. Ask a gecko.

eric roberts + monkey

The flea is known only as 'Proto-Flea'. He was the first puppet I made for my ongoing film, and I felt it would be fitting to bring him along. If nothing else, we could secrete him under our Super 8 pillows and demand our money back in the morning.

proto-flea, on the road

The crazy Dutchman shall henceforth be known as Guido 'Rumble-Stripper' Lek. This is due to the fact that he drives with his head at a 90 degree angle to the left so that he can look for wildlife, and thus constantly drives over the rumble strips on the hard shoulder, vibrating my dangly bits in a most unsettling manner.

we passed a sign that read 'Bear Left', and saw this

I am now called Neil 'Bum Tooter' Baker, simply because every time I turn around in the cab my arse hits the horn.

we are eating manly snacks

and pretending to go to manly bars

So far the driving has been slow - hampered as we were by rain and roadworks and bloody big mountains in Tahoe. We have not had many scrapes, although Guido had to slam on the brakes once, Neil had to slam on the brakes once, and the truck nearly got tipped over by a rampaging dust-devil that blew into the road. During the last event, it should be mentioned (at Guido's request) that the Englishman nearly soiled himself while the Dutchman merely cheered.

guido actually reduced speed

So here we are, safe and sound in Elko, and ready for a very early push tomorrow.

the nevada plains are quite beautiful

the colossus of roads

fatigue and gas prices hit me hard

a sneaky peek at the nevada sunset

If you are enjoying this blog so far I have some bad news for you. Rumble Stripper has been busy taking a gazillion photos for his own, super blog, which shall be linked to from here soon. Just remember that I had nothing to do with it.

erectile dysfunction may be caused by stunt driving

Ta ta for now!

N

The Eve of the Trip

The day began as I expect the rest of the week to go on...

After finally packing the rental truck beyond its natural born capacity, I wended my way up to San Francisco to meet Guido at the airport.
Naturally I got to the arrivals gate before realizing I had left my phone in the car. After running back for it, I returned and waited at the wrong gate for 15 mins before wandering over to the correct one, where I found a Dutchman. A Dutchman, it transpired, who had forgotten to bring my phone number.

Our mutual ineptitude knows no bounds. Watch this space to see if we do indeed make it across the States in one piece.

More tomorrow - including lovely pictures in full technicolor, and an introduction to the Condiment Map.

N.