Day Nine: Road trippin’

I’ll start with an admission; I am not a morning person. This is why I think that all hotels/hostels should follow the same rule as the University Inn in Minneapolis, and have check-out at noon. Even then, we only just made it in time, but I was spurred on by knowing that our first port of call was Denny’s. I know Americans tend to view it as a bit scuzzy and crappy, but I love Denny’s breakfasts. As it had been a while since I last had one, and I was really hungry, I went for the Lumberjack slam:

Two sausages, two strips of bacon, a slice of ham, hash browns, two eggs (scrambled, with cheese), two slices of toast, two pancakes, coffee.

The waiter asked jokingly if we “had enough food,” which I took as a challenge. I ate the lot and got a refill on the coffee. Foolish man, doubting my eating abilities. Oh, and this cracked me up:

The sign says “leave at 74, do not change.” Someone done goofed.

We paid up and hit the road, and I got my first experience of driving through the midwest. It’s pretty incredible…

Gaylord. *snicker*

We broke the journey in a little town called New Ulm. I didn’t take many pictures, and I don’t know why, because it’s a really cool little place. We went to a locals’ bar and drank the local brew; Schell. The brewery is just on the outskirts of town, so we drank up and drove to the brewery to take the tour – as it happened, the tour only runs in season, but we still looked around the gift shop. Steph got me a Grain Belt (iconic Minnesota beer) t-shirt, and we each got Grain Belt branded Rubik’s cubes. I asked the woman if I could have it for free if I solved it, but no dice. On the way out, we stopped at the “Eagle Roller Mill Company” because not only was the building cool, but the warehouse next to it has “Welcome to New Ulm” on it in big letters. Observe:

More photos of New Ulm:

Here’s some photos from the Schell brewery:

They had customised bricks, but we messed up the photo:

They also had a peacock…

…but I was dreadful at trying to sneak up on it:

*sniggers*

We didn’t take too many photos from then on, because we were too busy getting lost and driving thirty miles in the wrong direction (and of course, thirty miles back.) We crossed the state line into South Dakota, and then stuff got creepy.

The approach to Brookings (where Steph lives) is surrounded by wind turbines and radio towers, and due to there being a few local airfields, they are all equipped with flashing red lights. As we were approaching by night, we were surrounded by miles and miles of pitch black flat farmland… and loads of these weird lights all blinking in unison. We put War of the Worlds on and creeped ourselves out for the last half an hour of the five hour drive (that took close to nine hours with stops and detours). I tried getting a video, but it was pretty unsuccessful.  You can see the lights, but you just don’t get the spine-tingling feeling:

We got home and drank some of the Bell’s Two-Hearted ale we’d stopped for before leaving Minnesota, then watched half of Sweet & Lowdown and went to sleep.

Goodnight, South Dakota.

Day Eight: The Big One

 

The alarm went off at 7am, which is a cruel time for anyone to get up in my opinion. I was incredibly excited for what was happening today, but at the same time there was also a lot of me wanting to hit snooze and get another ten minutes sleep. There was a pot of coffee going, but my stomach was in all sorts of bother…

1) It was still working off the Salt Lick BBQ from the day before.
2) It was still processing the amount of Real Ale’s “Oktoberfest” beer I had drunk on Saturday night.
3) I was going to meet Steph in a few hours.

I managed to rouse myself and showered. I packed my stuff up, then said goodbye to Echoe and Canyon as they left for school, and said goodbye to Steve as he left for work. Around 8am we loaded up the car and Anna drove me to the airport. It was definitely a bittersweet moment as we pulled up to the curbside baggage drop, not at all helped by the fact that Landslide by Stevie Nicks was playing over the airport tannoy.

As I went through the security checks, a security guard pointed straight at me. I froze – after the trouble I had getting over here, my thought was “oh great, here we go again.” I walked towards him, resigned to my fate, and he just says; “NICE!!” It turns out that he was pointing to my Journey shirt. I love Texas.

My stomach was still doing cartwheels. I had a quick Skype with my friend Jamie, and then the flight boarded a few minutes late:

The flight itself was horrendous – never have I experienced so much turbulence, and when I have a knot in my stomach the size of a breezeblock it only makes things worse.

So then we landed, and I walked off the plane, down the concourse towards baggage claim, and got on the escalator down. I could see the door at the bottom; on the floor was a line saying “DO NOT CROSS,” so I knew this was where Steph would be waiting… and sure enough, there she was.

The next hour or so was a blur, that’s all I can say. I know we got lost on the way to the hotel (hence “hour;” it should’ve taken ten minutes). There are, however, photos of the approach to Minneapolis:

Oh, and we saw “DA GOOF” apparently:

This is the hotel room:

And this is the view from the hotel room:

Cool, isn’t it? We dumped our stuff, and left for Mall of America, the main focal point being the Nickelodeon Universe theme park:

Sorry about it being blurry; I was excited for the rollercoasters. There was also the ferris wheel…

…and I kicked Steph’s arse on the Ghost Blasters ride…

…and after going on pretty much every ride in the park, we went for beer and steak at the Cadillac Ranch restaurant. Apart from their delicious steak…

…they also offer free mechanical bull rides:

We left and drove back to the hotel, then walked four blocks to the Kitty Cat Club bar for beer.

(Well, truth be told, we walked four blocks to the bar, then the tosser at the door wouldn’t let me in without a passport – something about not accepting foreign driving licenses, so we walked four blocks back to the hotel to get my passport then walked back to the bar again.)

Aside from being a big hipster hangout, the place was really cool. It had a vibe somewhere between the Shipping Forecast in Liverpool, and an antiques shop. It is known for having one of the oldest photo booths still in operation, which we were both looking forward to – unfortunately, we picked the one day to visit when it decided that it wasn’t in operation and wouldn’t take our money. The place also had a great selection of beer… I had a Leinie Honeyweiss and a Grain Belt Premium, Steph had a Bell’s Two-Hearted and an Anchor Steam Beer. Every other person in there was drinking Pabst Blue Ribbon ‘tallboys,’ of course… oh, apart from one woman who as drinking a can of Strongbow, which she was pouring over ice in a glass. That cracked me up. A few photos:

Also… ELVIS PINBALL:

They kicked us out just shy of 2am, so we walked back to the hotel and crashed out.

All told, not a bad first date.

Day Seven: Recovery

After the happenings of the night before, we were all feeling pretty awful. Basshole and Jennifer spent the night on the sofa (not together, natch), where everyone congregated and ate breakfast tacos courtesy of Mr. Bigfoot. It helped, but it wasn’t enough, so after Basshole left to battle through the four-hour drive home to Houston, we went to the Salt Lick BBQ. You may remember it from this:

Yeah, that’s where we went…

Brisket, turkey, sausage and ribs, with potato salad, coleslaw and barbecue beans. That did the trick.

The drive home was incredible – we took a different route specifically to show me the view over the Texas hill country. There’s one part where you get to the crest of a big hell, and the scenery just opens out in front of you. It’s spectacular:

After we got home, we more or less just slobbed around on the sofa. Some broke off for a nap, others stayed and watched The Dukes of Hazzard which was on TV. I saw the Dukes of Hazzard: The Reunion for the first time, which was all at once a big deal and remarkably shite. I tried breaking it up by sitting out on the deck and just taking it all in, but unfortunately it was too warm for me:

Just before bed, I said one last farewell to a good friend I’d made – “Momma Kitty”:

In case you were wondering, she’s called Momma Kitty on account of the fact she’s had three litters.

Day Six: When it’s time to party we will party hard.

Seeing as this was an all-day party, I’m just going to caption the photos. It started with Echoe’s birthday party, which then morphed into the grown-up party from about 6pm onwards.

Party food. L-R pig in blankets (they’re actually closer to sausage rolls, not like what the UK calls pigs in blankets), tortilla pinwheels, apple cake, tortilla chips and homemade salsa and queso:

Echoe’s birthday pudding – instead of a cake, she wanted banana pudding:

It was hot:

Basshole from the Lips board turned up, and brought with him the Flaming Lips gummy skull…

…and gummy fetus:

Non-Lips meet-up! L-R basshole (Alan), Johnny Fever (Charles), parsons love child (Anna), JenniferP (foreground), I saw Bigfoot once (Kevin), Oh My Gawd!!! (Me)

The same again, but with whimrocker coming in through satellite feed (/Skype). Oh, and no Jennifer. She was passed out:

It got messy, and the pace proved too much for Jennifer and Kevin:

Unfortunately, a Sharpie turned up:

And at the end of the night, the cooler was empty.

Day Five: Let’s go to Luckenbach, Texas

After a solid twelve hours of sleep (a much-needed catch-up for everyone), I got up bright and early at around 9am. Steve loaded up the boat, and after stopping for petrol and a breakfast burrito we made our way to Canyon Lake.

We seemed to pick the perfect time to go, too… the lake was pretty smooth sailing, there weren’t too many boats around, and it was as warm as bathwater to swim in. Which we did. A few photos:

You can see how bad the drought is – look at where the water level usually is:

Yours truly at the helm:

Hell yeah! Oh, and just because this is foreign to me on so many levels…

After driving back to Blanco and dropping off the boat, we picked up Anna and drove out to Bar None Ranch to shoot some guns… but first, look at this place.

So onto the guns. Didn’t get any pictures of the pistol, but here’s one of the hunting rifles:

In shooting this gun, I learnt that 12 guage shells cause one hell of a recoil. Shoulder pain. We worked our way up to the assault rifle…

…which you can also set up to use lying down…

…which makes you feel especially cool. And improves your aim drastically. Here’s some videos:

BOOYA. Oh, and in case I wasn’t American enough yet:

Look at the size of this thing!! I’m 6’2″ and it’s taller than me, and in theory I could drive this on my license. Everything really is bigger in Texas.

When we got home we ordered take-out Mexican food from El Charro, which was so good I forgot to take a picture. Two chicken enchiladas, a beef taco, brown rice, guacamole, refried beans, and a lot of corn chips with hot sauce, salsa and queso. It was gooooood.

So then, we went to Luckenbach, Texas, although there was no sign of Waylon, Willie or the boys. (If that didn’t make sense to you, clicky clicky.)

It’s really in the middle of nowhere. They even sell bumper stickers that say “I got lost looking for Luckenbach.” This is the first thing you see:

The funny thing is, once you’re in, you can buy a beer and walk around the general store-cum-gift shop, or the dance hall, and it’s fine.

Bar:

General store:

And a load more photos and video from Luckenbach:

I even signed the guestbook. There’s a saying; “Everybody’s somebody in Luckenbach.” Hence…

I missed out the part where we went to the aforementioned Real Ale Brewery… didn’t really do much but hang out and drink beer, but we also stocked up. There’s an all-day party happening tomorrow at Anna’s house. Do you think we’re prepared?

That’s a good place to end.

Day Four: That’s What I Love About Texas

Waking up slowly, it dawned on me after a few minutes just how hungover I was. Bud Lite is indeed pisswater, but apparently it gets you drunk, and leaves you with a mother of a hangover. Owing to this, a lazy day was had. We bummed around watching bad TV, then we enjoyed a hearty breakfast of Kraft Macaroni Cheese. I was too hungover to operate a camera, so this is from Google Images, but still…

OMNOMNOM.

After more bumming around, Anna had to pick Echoe up from school and we stopped by Dairy Queen on the way home. I had my first Blizzard of the trip:

So good. UK people; it’s basically a McFlurry, but there’s a much greater variety of stuff you can put in it. I went with Oreos. Oh, and it’s HUGE. I got a “medium” and it was the same size as a large Coke in McDonald’s. It doesn’t sound like a lot, but trust me, it’s too much. Didn’t stop me from eating it all though. That’s what I love about Texas. (Dairy Queen actually originated in Illinois, but who’s counting?)

The night was rounded out by seeing my first American football game ever (apart from the Superbowl this year), Blanco High School Vs Sonora High School, 8th graders. Canyon, #51, was playing mostly defence and even got his name read out at one point after a particularly heroic tackle. Honestly, being “sat in the bleachers at a high school football game” was an experience enough as it was, but then Blanco beat Sonora 38 – 0. BOOM. I took a few photos too, natch:

I’ll close with the only appearance of the Blanco Panthers’ mascot…

He even missed the half-time show, despite a call over the tannoy for the mascot. No doubt he’ll be off to the taxidermist’s tomorrow, getting a bottle-opener up the jacksie.

 

Day Three: Don’t Stop Believing

I got woken up by Anna around 10 o’clock after a nice lie in, got myself together and we went to the bowling alley for breakfast. (If you’re from Britain, I imagine you’ll need to read that last part again.) Two sausage, two toast, scrambled eggs and hash browns… I had definitely forgotten how much I love hash browns drenched in Tabasco. I didn’t get a picture, but it was goooood.

As we were gearing up for a late, drunken night, we had a fairly easy day of crusing around Blanco and seeing the local sights. First stop, Blanco Taxidermy:

There were big cats…

…rooms full of skulls…

…unicorns…

…and bears. This particular bear was getting mounted standing on its hind legs, with a bottle opener in it’s bumhole, and another in it’s paw. It was then going to be dressed up as Smokey the bear, and would live out his life on a rich guy’s yacht.

There was also this guy. He was very old, and he passed away, so naturally his family splashed out $3,000 to get this done…

Texas, dude. The owner, Jerry, is a really great guy, and there’s a live webcast of the inside of the shop on the website – go and have a look, it’s pretty cool.

So then, we went to the Blanco courthouse. It’s a really cool old building, and it’s also where the courthouse scene from the True Grit remake was filmed.

We took the scenic route home… I didn’t get any photos of the dried-up river (usually it’s great for swimming in, but Texas is experiencing one of the worst droughts in memory), but I did get a photo of the ducks:

And then we went out to the AT&T Center…

…saw Foreigner…

…and then… JOURNEY.

That mass of confetti came right at the end of Don’t Stop Believing. Both bands were great (though the sound for Journey wasn’t a patch on Foreigner) and the Bud Lite was flowing… it’s not great, but it definitely did the trick. When we got back, I made a friend:

Texas, man.

Day Two: A Welshman in Austin, TX

Despite the jet lag, the 2am bedtime and the bellyful of beer and whiskey I’d consumed the night before, I awoke wide-awake at 9:30am. I decided to unpack my suitcase, then got ready for a trip into Austin. But first, a stop at the drive-thru bank:

Oh, America… you so crazy.

The drive out from Blanco was pretty cool – Anna took me on the “scenic route” which meant I got to see a lot more of the Texas countryside:

As we’d missed breakfast, the first port of call was lunch at Threadgill’s. It’s the place where Janis Joplin made her name, and apparently has a rich musical history. It’s now gone down in history as the place where Chris Harding ate his first chicken-fried steak, and his first collard greens:

The chicken-fried steak was fantastic, the collard greens not so much – it tasted like cabbage, but fattier and they put way too much pepper in for my liking.

After that, we stopped by Waterloo Records, and I picked up two Archers of Loaf EPs that I have never seen in the UK… certainly not for $10 each in any case:

Score.

I also got an ice cream from Amy’s… aside from the quality of their ice cream, they’re renowned for doing “tricks” when preparing it. Unfortunately, I didn’t get any pictures or videos of it (there’s probably some videos on YouTube), but it’s much in the same vein as bartender flaring. They mix the topping (Oreos, for me) with the ice cream (Mexican vanilla, for me) on a cold marble slab using two palette knives, whilst throwing the knives/ice cream under the leg, around the head, etc. For the big finish, the guy shapes the ice cream into a ball and gets it on one knife, throws it behind his back, spins around and catches it in the serving cup. Not only was it incredibly impressive to watch, it was also a damn good ice cream.

We then went for a walk around Zilker Park, and arrived just in time to take a ride on the “Zilker Zephyr”. Austin City Limits festival was this weekend, and the train goes right around the perimeter of the ACL site. They were currently in the process of de-rigging the main stage, which I’m not sure I’d fancy in 30ºC+ heat.

Time was getting on, so we took off and stopped by Spec’s because “it’s just a big shop full of booze, meat, cheese and tobacco.” They were also selling full beer pong sets…

…as well as fine imported cider in wine bottles, which obviously cracked me up:

Finally, they had an enormous walk in humidor where they kept all the cigars. Just outside the door, they were selling the used cigar boxes for $1.49. I’ve been looking for one of these for months, with a view to making a cigar box guitar out of it. I snagged a really good specimen:

So happy!

On the way home, we stopped by the Real Ale Brewing Company where Anna works and picked up some beer for the evening. That was a seriously cool place. The brewery seemed to be run by a load of beard-sporting men, working hard and occasionally taking a break to drink the fruits of their labour. They had their own PA system in there, which they used to blast music loud enough to drown out the loud brewing machinery. I was offered a pilsner, which was bottled just a few hours earlier and still hadn’t been labelled – in the hot Texas heat, that hit the spot. Suffice to say, I really, really want to work there:

We came home, had drinks, ate carnitas for dinner (I need that recipe), and had some drinks. Oh, and I introduced Anna’s son Canyon to the wonders of the Rubik’s cube. He’s a seriously quick learner and I told him he’d have solved it on his own by Thursday.

I’m sure he will.

Day One: Department of Homeland Security Vs Chris Harding

So, I landed in Detroit Wayne County airport around 12:45, which left me a little over an hour to make my connecting flight at 13:58. In that time, I had to collect my checked baggage, put my duty free into it (something to do with going from international to domestic), re-check it, and get to my flight… but first, I had to clear customs.

Now, being a 6’2″ stocky guy with long hair and a big beard, airport security is never any fun for me. You stop believing the term “random search” when you get subjected to one every time you fly. With this in mind, I wasn’t looking forward to security in the US – I’ve always found them to be intimidating, and in my sleep-deprived delirium, there’s always the fear that I’ll say the wrong thing. Well, here’s what happened, as it happened:

12:50pm – Begin queuing for customs.

13:05pm – Another queue opens up, I quickly join that one as I am conscious of the possibility of missing my connecting flight.

13:10pm – Reach the front of the new queue, and step forward for questioning and perusal by a stone-faced humourless man called Richie. I stifle a laugh at the sign displaying the Dept. of Homeland Security’s promises to travelers… number one on the list being “Greet all foreign nationals with a friendly welcome to the United States of America.” I was yet to know how wrong that promise was.

13:15pm – Questioned for around five minutes in a very accusatory voice… I was asked how much cash I had brought to the United States, and I told him I had $300 on me. He then asked ‘how I planned to remain in the US for six weeks with only $300?’ I told him I had a bank account with just under $2000 in it, to which he snapped “You didn’t mention that.” I didn’t bite.

13:20pm – Another officer came over, let’s call her Sheila, and Richie nodded to her. Sheila was given my passport, boarding pass and blue visa waiver form and she told me to collect my checked baggage and follow her. I asked her if this was because I had a connecting flight (I assumed at this point I was getting escorted) and she said she didn’t know, but when I told her what time my flight was, she assured me “you’ll make it.” Sheila led over to the other side of the baggage hall, and left in the hands of another officer, let’s call him Doug.

13:25pm – Doug asked me a lot of questions about what I did back home (unemployed, recent graduate), my degree (try explaining Sound Technology to a US customs official) and what grade I got (try explaining the 1st/2.1/2.2/3rd system…), the purpose of my visit (pleasure, visiting friends) and so on and so forth. He told me to put my baggage up on this luggage belt they had there, so I assumed they were just going to go through my luggage. Pain in the arse, but whatever. He then told me to take it back off the belt and to follow him.

13:30pm – Doug spoke to a variety of people, at all times instructing me in a very overbearing manner on where to wait; “Sir, I want you to wait next to that blue wall over there until I call you. Do you understand?” He led me into a windowless waiting room and told me to have a seat. My passport and boarding pass was given to someone behind the desk, and Doug left. The room I was in seemed to be a large waiting room for people who have problems with their visa application – I was the only Caucasian person in there, as it was mostly full of Hong Kongese and Hispanic nationals. I was not permitted to use my phone or my laptop.

13:50pm – It becomes clear to me that I am missing my flight.

14:15pm – I am increasingly aware of the fact that I was supposed to be landing in Austin at 16:00, and that my friend Anna was picking me up who lives just over an hour away from the airport, in Blanco. What if she was leaving early? I had to contact her! I approached an officer and explained the situation to him, and was told that they would contact my ride as soon as I was seen to. I asked when that would be, and he barked “there’s a queue, buddy” at me before walking off.

14:30pm – A female officer called Officer Tumer calls me into an interrogation room. She asks me all the same questions about the purpose of my visit, my degree, my job back home, etc. She wrote all this down, then got the contact numbers for both Anna and Steph (my girlfriend, in South Dakota). She called Anna, and asked her all the same questions as me to check that the answers matched up, then told her that I was going to be on the next flight to Austin and that I’d call her to let her know the new time. Officer Tumer then called Steph, and ran the same line of questioning on her. Suffice to say, the stories checked out.

14:45pm – I officially cleared US customs. I was directed to a Delta airways booking agent, who got me a seat request for the next flight (which was at 19:39, getting me into Austin, TX just before 22:00, six hours late). My suitcase was checked through, and I left the baggage reclaim/customs hall and made my way to the main concourse, at which point I called Anna and informed her of the new arrival time and ranted. She said it was fine, and she’d see me then.

To celebrate, I had my first junk food at Wendy’s:

I was tempted by the “Baconator,” but my stomach had been churning for two hours so it didn’t seem like a safe bet. Instead, I proceeded to drink the Atlantic in Mountain Dew. By the way, this is a ‘medium’ size cup, next to my MacBook Pro screen for reference:

Detroit Wayne County airport is pretty cool…

…and they have automatic toilets with a failsafe for monster dumps, which is brilliant…

…but Detroit decided to welcome me by hosting a storm:

Luckily, my welcome in Texas was friendlier. Thanks, Echoe and Christian. 🙂

Delicious, ice cold beer not pictured, but it was just as welcome after 27 hours of travelling.

Day One: The beginning…

Following roughly an hour’s sleep, I got woken up and driven to Newport Bus Station by my mother. This is way too early:

The bus arrived a few minutes late (hey, it’s still Britain) and I got on. I managed to snap one quick photo, for no reason whatsoever, of the inside of the bus station:

Classy.

Got to Heathrow, checked in fine, got a nice bottle of single malt from Duty Free (the Singleton of Dufftown 12yo, a personal favourite) and proceeded to my gate:

I can see the plane!

I spent most of the flight sleeping, however I also took full advantage of the on-demand video service… Louis CK “Chewed Up” stand-up, American Dad, Parks & Recreation, The (American) Office… it was good. I also took a photo of myself in the bathroom…

…and a photo of the hilarity of the safety card, in which a father still has time during a plane crash to abuse his child…

…oh, and I read an article in which Lenny Kravitz boasts about his studio in the Caribbean, but does not understand that a Neumann U87 on vocals works best when you point the diaphragm at your mouth, and not at your bass…

And then I landed, and to quote the Goon Show, “this is where the story REALLY begins…”