Yesterday, I spent some time mapping out our drive across the country. We have decided that this time around, instead of site-seeing we’ll go the most direct route and see whatever we can along the way. We have decided to take route 70 nearly all the way across.
Although Mapquest keeps casually spitting out route 80, I don’t wish to follow that route. (Have you ever driven on Route 80? I grew up in central Pennsyltuckey, route 80 has always scared me. Granted, I’ve only been on it through one state, so who knows. But in Pennsyltuckey, due to its elevation, it snows there in the summertime sometimes. And that’s just weird.)
Route 70 takes us through all of the following major cities: Columbus, Ohio; Indianapolis, Indiana; St. Louis, Missouri; Kansas City, Missouri and Kansas City, Kansas; and Denver, Colorado. In St. Louis, we’ll check out The Arch. To be honest, I’m not sure what we might see in Kansas. Are there things I don’t know about in Kansas? Are there things worth checking out? Midgets, witches and dwarves, oh my? If it’s not in a film, I don’t know about it. Someone smarter needs to let me know.
Denver. Last time I checked, the Rockies were in Denver. That’ll be pretty awesome indeed. Aside from our trip last weekend to San Francisco to find an apartment, Toby hasn’t ever really been out west. He hasn’t ever seen these sort of terranes firsthand. And we’ll probably need to pick up another car just to just hold his many rolls of film. In or around Denver, after turning off John Denver, we’ll get the vespa out of the back, hop on and I’ll wet my pants, paying homage to this film.
At Utah, we must head north. However, Missy had the brilliant idea of swinging south a few miles to visit Arches National Park. I might do that. It really depends on how close Toby and I are to either being murdered by our cats, or we are to killing them all.
I think we’ll have to take some smaller roads to get up to 80 at Utah’s border. I think that road is route 6. We’ll reach 80 at Salt Lake City, Utah. 80 will take us all the way into San Francisco. I hear Utah is very pretty, so I’m sort of looking forward to that part. I have always been sort of terrified of Mormons, especially after reading Under the Banner of Heaven, but I have met a few who aren’t totally weird and insane, so I’m starting to change my mind a bit. I’m going to make t-shrits to hand out in Utah which read:
What would Joe Smith do?
Surely this has already been done, no?
Then it’s off to Nevada. I was in Nevada once. Nevada is super freaky. Nevada is earth’s equivalent to outer space. Interstate 80 runs through Nevada because it was given no choice. Route 15 does it for the gambling and the hookers. Otherwise there is really not much going on in Nevada. And I think that’s why I like it so much. What a weird, interesting place. Nevada is the “forgotten” albino child kept chained up in the basement. A child who has special powers. A child whose intelligence is off the charts. A child who can somehow feel the coming of lightening and who, by placing a hand on the head of a dying deer, can feel its pain. Nevada was directed by a pedophile.
I’ve veered off track. At Nevada, I’m sure I’ll be driving 152 mph in hopes of just GETTING THE FUCK HOME already. But who knows. So 80 takes us all the way into the city holding our new home. I’m nervous as all hell, excited and happy that I’m fortunate enough to be given the chance to drive this drive, and pleased with the fact that the only thing separating me from my eastern home is a whole shitload of dark pavement and yellow lines.
Mihow 
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