vintage red in 2006

smell, sip, savor

no, this vintage red is not a tasty red wine from napa, bordeaux, or tuscany. this vintage red is a road trip i took from lynchburg, virginia to fort collins, colorado in may two thousand six. i completed this trip solo as i have enjoyed traveling before.

virginia. about ten thirteen friday morning i took off from my temporary residence of lynchburg, virginia. sure i was sad leaving mes amis but i think it’s mutual that we were all eager to get to our permanent residences. it was literally déjà vu as i traveled the same road which had welcomed our camping adventures exactly one week prior. the avid readers of varietization will recall the “town with folk as country as a shotgun rack on a 4x4” we campers found our way to. again i was greeted by a less than suave atmosphere and was out of there as soon as my camera shutter motioned. on to the natural bridge via one dead bird which had greeted my windshield. it scared me. i killed it. my “check engine” light came on as i came to the famous natural bridge. i decided to try my hand at getting some pictures, but 50 steps into the hike i was greeted by a man who wanted to keep his job and keep me out. i left without paying the $12 required to take me farther. i then found my way to a small virginia town - forgive me for not knowing the name - with as much vintage red as i saw the whole trip. in fact, the 50’s-esque kroger sign and the mullets surrounding it gave me the idea of my theme. john at auto zone instructed me of the engine problem and gave me permission to continue on my journey.

west virginia. i-sixty four via i-eighty one took me into west virginia. i must say, every time i go to west virginia, the self-proclaimed “mountain state,” i have flashbacks to cherbourg, france. i do not know why, but the “mountains” and trees covering the “mountains” must scream a resemblance. i’m sure many would beg to differ. as i was driving on i-sixty four, i came across signs for “the tamarack – the best of west virginia.” how could i pass up “the best of west virginia?” no wonder i never liked it. i never saw the best of it. as i came up to it, i saw a white building with a red roof and designs resembling lady liberty’s crown. i must be missing something. i wasn’t. the “best of west virginia" was all but impressive. my drive continued on and i was greeted by coal mining signs (me, you, everyone else owes west Virginia for keeping our lights on. if west virginia went up in flames, we would need another edison to save us). as i meandered into another small town i came across an interesting establishment, andy’s grill. it was a quaint restaurant which grilled its meats outdoors on charcoal grills. i applaud them and if it weren’t three o' clock in the afternoon, i would have eaten there. in my mind, andy’s grill truly is the best of west virginia. step aside tamarack.

kentucky. kentucky’s rustic barns and horse farms were up to par on this trip. as the weather was overcast, the effect was a second-to-none backdrop. apparently there were old abandon houses in kentucky’s countryside. i capitalized on the opportunity and took a photo of it…and myself. i continued on as my stomach was speaking louder than words. my much-anticipated visit to lexington came at the right time. the great town welcomed me and my appetite. after driving for several minutes, I came across “anna belle’s.” just like any other fine-dining restaurant, i was looked at suspiciously when ready to be seated. i don’t mind though. it truly tests the service. i sat at a four top alone in the middle of the people. i couldn’t pick out who belonged in the limousine outside. i had a great meal of mini crab cakes (although the had horseradish which i’m not necessarily the biggest fan of), mixed greens with a passion fruit vinaigrette, filet mignon which was accompanied by asparagus and garlic mashed potatoes, and finished with a delightful crème brulee. the food was about an eight out of ten as the filet was a bit undercooked even from my medium-rare request and the asparagus was probably out of season. after i finished my meal, i realized that everyone kept glancing at the ceiling. there was actually a loft which a large guy was eating. i assumed he was a celebrity, whether local or more and was correct when i finally deduced that it was his limousine. at last, the waitress started a conversation. i found out that she went to college and was graduating in three weeks – not at uk, but the smaller transy (transylvania). although her degree was in history, she landed a job at an investment firm. she was excited to learn that that was my path as well. she gave me her number and e-mail address in case i needed any contacts along the way (which I later accidentally threw away with some road trip trash). if you’re out there, i want to talk, but can’t contact you. i left there with a full stomach and a new passion for the journey. i came to the more widely-known louisville, kentucky. i tried for about twenty two minutes to find the churchill downs, the home of the kentucky derby. i got tired of looking and decided i must be on my way.

indiana. this is where i got tired and decided i would sleep. the rest stop was not there though. i had to go less than one hundred yards into illinois.

illinois. this is where i slept for the night and cramped my muscles any more. i am a less than average guy in terms of height, but even i cannot comfortably sleep horizontally in a jetta. As my dad wittingly said, I had “jetta lag.” …. talk radio took me through illinois just to take me into sight of the saint louis arch, “the gateway to the west” – which stood true for me as well.

missouri. i crossed the mississippi river and decided to be photoactive in the city. word to the wise, saint louis isn’t too impressive on saturday morning. i quickly saw a nice little eatery, café dejuner, but it was not welcoming on the weekends. the “lunch café” was, as expected with the french name, a little french-style café that had european-style seating and a european-style menu. i walked around down to the river to take some photos of the famous arch. i took several and as i was taking more, i was greeted by a business man eager to take a break from running and take a picture. he took a couple of me. he was on his way. i was on my way. after an unsuccessful attempt to find a place for breakfast, a drive along the historic riverfront, and a sighting of fans gathering outside of busch stadium, i was on my way out of saint louis. i came to a traffic jam which was made worse when two semi trucks, which i narrowly drove past decided to set up a road block. after i broke free from the jam, i decided i needed some gasoline. this place was as red as a confederate flag on the front of an eighty’s truck. kansas city took me out of missouri and into kansas, off of i-sixty four onto the familiar i-seventy.

kansas. my friend reigen had asked what state i was looking forward to driving through the most on my adventure, and i told him kansas. some would scoff at that, but it met my expectations. i never get tired of the old farms and small towns of kansas. i rarely have met a rainy day in kansas and this day was not any different. the sunny day made for good driving weather and a good ambiance. i was thinking “ode to kansas” as i was eating my sunflower seeds in the “sunflower state.” i had been looking forward to eating at scheme pizza in salina kansas for some time. the last few times through salina i and my company had opted for cozy inn which is a similar - but much more quaint, personal, and tasty - restaurant to white castle and krusty’s. this time, however, i decided to eat some pizza which has been my long time favorite pizza. my godparents had taken me there as a kid and we were treated warmly as they were known throughout the town. the last time i had eaten there was november nineteen ninety six. i sat in one of the only tables which hadn’t been reserved. i ordered sausage and pepperoni which the waitress, shawna, brought out steaming for me. after i had eaten the pizza and left the crust, i drizzled honey on the remaining crust and ate it for dessert (that is how we eat our pizza out west). i was on my way with new memories and a full stomach. as i continued my homeward journey on i-seventy, i saw an old water tower two miles to the south on my left with the word “wilson” painted on it declaring the city name. i decided this would be a perfect vintage photo-op and was right. the town was as quaint as a frank lloyd wright house in the ghetto. whether for practicality or apathy, fifty’s farm equipment still lingered in this town. as sure as i was that no one had ever been there before, my parents later recollected their visit to wilson. although i can’t claim that wilson hosted such a party (thankfully) on the way back when behind an adult store there was a shindig as red as…a trailerpark party behind an adult store. instead of taking an interstate, i tried to take a highway through kansas, but dusk present and time would not allow. driving through kansas on the local roads in may is on the list of good scenic rides across america. the sun was setting to the west, but i knew that it was leading me west back to colorado. i followed the sun and as soon as i hit the town of kanorado, i knew i was on the brink of entering “colorful colorado”.

colorado. home sweet home. as the sun set and i was eager to get home, i struggled through this lag of the journey. i couldn’t see the mountains in the dark and i knew the territory like the back of my hand. i took a slight right on i-two seventy six then another on i-twenty five. i-twenty five took me along the front range to my final destination at twelve fifteen a.m.sunday morning, fort collins, colorado – “the choice city.”