SIX DAYS WITH MY BFF

Trip Length: 6 days (okay actually 8, but the blog title stuck)
Miles Traveled: 2,388.7
Gallons of Gas: 95.52
Delicious Meals Eaten: ????
Cups of coffee Robert Drank: ????
Friends Visited: 5 (7 if you count Rob and Jessica making guest appearances)
Photos Taken: Probably not enough to capture everything, but that’s okay
Speeding Tickets Received: 0
Memories Made: this delivery is getting cheesy fast

Perhaps the worst part of a road trip is that it ends. When there is a destination, especially if it is back where you started, the end of a road trip can be rather anticlimactic. Rochester is not inherently depressing (though some may argue this and cite weather patterns), yet the likes of it are decidedly unwelcome seven days after our departure. Yes, it is good to be home and showering was a godsend for just about everybody. Yes, my bed tonight will be a welcome upgrade from the floors and couches (and even strangers’ beds) that served as one-night nests. But there is also such an overwhelming sense of familiarity and routine that we have to hit the ground running with to start our final quarter tomorrow morning; it’s a surprisingly unwelcome feeling after such a relaxing and spontaneous week.

Maybe it’s trite to dwell on the pros and cons of a circular round trip—the intention wasn’t to get to one place in particular at the end and unfortunately one can’t hang out with friends and party indefinitely. I hope this is not my last road trip, and more specifically I hope that there will be others in the coming years. Most of us are headed for new things after May. For myself and I hope for everyone we were able to spend time with this week, the near future holds a lot of great and exciting things.

It seems poetic, as life sneakily tends to be, that we spent a number of hours in the car listening to the NPR show This American Life. We enjoy this radio program because it tells stories about people through music and conversations and exploration. It’s often like reading a short story and you tend to feel a bit better off, or at least entertained, by the end of each hour show. I’ve reflected on why this is so enjoyable. First, it’s great to listen to a good story. Second, it’s a very passive way of gaining life experience through others, even if it’s just in the form of someone else’s narrative. Third, the medium is decidedly mirrored to our road trip itself. A mix of music, conversation, and an overall experience of living— listening to people, seeing new things, reading Wikipedia on an iPhone in the car that goes in and out of having a signal in the depths of southern Ohio. Everything was important at the same time as being random and just for the hell of it. It didn’t really matter where we stopped or what we got to see. On a simple level I felt that the last few days of the trip were disappointing to anybody following along because we didn’t go somewhere entirely new. But these were probably some of the most important days: the ones where we got to spend time with old friends and enjoy life. Typical, yes, for college students to have some drinks, stay up late into the night, and neglect showers. What perhaps can’t be conveyed in any amount of writing or photos is how lucky we are and how much damn fun it was for us to get out and do stuff. The people we know and have had the pleasure to share nights (and headachy mornings) with are anything but typical.

Thank you for reading our blog and keeping up with us. It was an incredibly fun experiment and if everyone out there enjoyed following along half as much as we enjoyed the trip and documenting it, then it was a worthwhile (and hopefully entertaining) endeavor.

Last but certainly not least, a few pictures to close out our experience:

That’s the effect of thousands of miles of highway driving. You’d have never know that car was laserwashed before we left.

Oh right, Volkswagen never told me the trip Odometer resets at 2000 miles. It’s a lot less impressive to drive a big loop around the eastern US and arrive back in Rochester with only 400 miles under your belt.

I just spent six (eight) days with my BFF. It was pretty great.

On the sixth day of our trip, we woke up far too early considering what had happened the night before, packed our bags, and headed north to Philadelphia. Thankfully we found coffee quickly enough and the drive was short. Our plans for Philly were at best, tentative. Our friends knew we were coming, but other than that, nothing was really planned.

Josh took this opportunity to ruin a few photographs.

Aside from staying with our friends Richard and Josh at Temple University, Philadelphia also gave Josh and I a chance to meet up with our parents. For those of you that don’t know, we grew up right outside of Philly, so naturally our parents jumped on the opportunity to see us, and we jumped on the opportunity for a free lunch (love you mom & dad!)

Notice the resemblance? Plans worked out so that I had some time to grab lunch with my mom, and despite the habit of trying new and exciting restaurants on this trip, I went with an old favorite in Philadelphia’s chinatown - Vietnam. I’ve been going there for years now, almost every time that I travel home if I can help it.

After an order of “Vietnamese ravioli” that I stupidly forgot to photograph (they were interesting to say the least - imagine a rice wrapped ravioli topped with pork bologna served with cucumber, mint, and a chili dipping sauce), I had the seafood clay-pot. It may look like a jumbled mess, but this pot contained a spicy and delicious mix of shrimp, scallop, squid, tofu, daikon radish, and spicy cabbage. Almost everything but the kitchen sink. Using a spoon and chopsticks, I worked my way through the dish, enjoying the tenderness of the tofu and scallops, contrasted by the subtle crunch of scallion and the blazing heat of the cabbage.

Needless to say my mother and I finished everything.

Coincidentally, my father and uncle were in Philly at the time, on Temple’s campus at a basketball game. I got a chance to hang out with them and have a few beers after the game. I should also note that Josh got a chance to see his parents but neglected to take any pictures or review the food he ate. What an irresponsible travel blogger.

Now, for more food. When dinner rolled around, we went with a popular Philly tradition of cheesteaks and fries. Before we even get into the debate of Pat’s vs Rick’s vs Geno’s vs Tony Luke’s, I’ll just say we went to Tony Luke’s.

Although they make a damn good cheesteak, my favorite sandwich from Tony Luke’s is the hot roast pork italiano - an oversized, hoagie roll filled with tender, juicy roast pork, sharp provolone cheese, and broccoli rabe. No, it’s not a Philly cheesteak, but for me it says Philadelphia.

The night ended pretty typically with a game of poker and a few beers. Honestly I don’t have much to say about this because I can’t think of a better way to spend time with my friends.

A large portion of the day today was spent driving. We kinda didn’t realize that Washington DC was about seven hours from South Carolina, but that being said, we hunkered down and drove.

We didn’t really do much else today. Really. The fatigue of the car kinda got to us, only a tiny bit.





After a few hours of driving, we saw a sign on the side of the road that spelled salvation - a sign that read “Wawa.” Fucking Wawa. This was the first Wawa we’ve seen all trip so naturally we needed to stop. Josh got a roast beef shorti and I got a cup of Wawa coffee and for a split second, everything seemed right with the world.



After a few more hours of driving and what felt like few hours of traffic, Josh and I finally arrived in Washington DC. To celebrate our arrival, our host Sean had big plans for us. Naturally we drank - and punch each other.





And of course, the antics ensued. Sean took us to an American University party, where obviously we chatrouletted.




(The chatrouletters)

It was quite the party.




(Our host)


Oh right, Rob came down from New Jersey to partake in our short-lived DC antics

And he might be asleep in a hammock right now

(Editors note - these photos were selected and this post was written last night around 2:45 in the morning, after said party. I had the choice to modify it, but I felt it’d be better to leave this entry in it’s beautiful entirety -robert)

Headed for Philly this morning. Full post about last night coming soon.

Long drive today. Just made it into DC, not too much to say. We did pass 19 Cracker Barrels today.

After a relatively long walk across town, we stopped by the much recommended Hominy Grill for lunch (which really became the only meal we all ate for the entire day - it was that much delicious food)

After we ordered, our waiter brought us boiled peanuts, a traditional southern appetizer - quite literally peanuts boiled in salt water. They were vaguely warm and mushy and salty, not exactly appetizing to someone who normally consumes their peanuts dry or honey roasted but this southern treat grew on me, the warm, strange mushiness developing into a warm, salty peanuty goodness. It’s hard to explain. Really though, boil some peanuts for a bit sometime, it’s kinda delicious.

Never having a proper introduction to southern cooking, I knew the Hominy Grill was going to spoil me. Reading the menu, seeing that everything was freshly made from scratch, I knew the meal being cooked for me would be delicious. On Jackie’s recommendation, I ordered the shrimp and grits - a “proper introduction” to southern cooking. The plate from Hominy Grill consisted of cheesey grits, fresh jumbo shrimp, bacon, scallion, and mushrooms. Never having grits before, I had absolutely no idea what to expect. Little did I know, they’re just some kinda southern polenta. The plate of delicious mush presented to me simply blew my mind. The grits I had were creamy, smooth and delicious, flavored from the bacon and scallion, punctuated by jumbo shrimp. I’m sorry if I sound so excited talking about this plate of food, but it really was wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.

Jackie was lucky enough to order the fried chicken. Even though I only had a tiny bite, it was something else entirely. I’ve had a lot of fried chicken, from homemade to KFC, western New York to coastal North Carolina, but this was… different. The spices tasted different, the breading crunched differently, the chicken breast itself was different. Everything was light but flavorful, airy and crunchy, yet spicy and complex, tasting like chicken, but also much more. This flavor was unexpectedly intensified by adding grits - this I can’t even explain.

Josh ordered the Big Nasty Biscuit, a fried chicken biscuit sandwich smothered in sausage gravy. As horribly unappetizing as it looks, the sandwich was delicious, with the flavor of the fried chicken intensified and paired with the slight spiciness of the sausage gravy - all on a fresh, warm, pillowy buttery biscuit. It looks kinda gross, yeah, it didn’t photograph well, but believe me, it was tasty.

After this Smörgåsbord of southern cooking, we were all stuffed. But there was a chalk board full of desserts. Delicious, made from scratch desserts. We ended up ordering three - two slices of pie and the “best chocolate pudding you’ll ever eat” according to our waiter.

Pecan pie. Look at this pecan pie. I don’t even need to write about it. It looks perfect - it was perfect. I couldn’t find fault… everything was just exactly what it should have been. It was crunchy and sweet, smooth and crispy, absolutely perfect.

Buttermilk pie. This was interesting. Josh and Jackie claim it as the winner of the desserts, a slightly vanilla, slightly lemon pie, silky smooth and soft, with a subtle hint of lemon. It was light and refreshing, a great compliment to a heavy lunch.

Chocolate pudding. The exact inverse of “light and refreshing,” this pudding/mousse was heavy, decadent and chocolaty - almost too much for us to finish. We did our duty and emptied the cup though.

Oh, and last but not least, here’s our waiter from the Hominy Grill. I hate to admit that I forget his name, but he was a super-nice guy who put up with all of or pictures and questions and excitement over the meal.

After lunch, all of us in need of a bit of exercise, we walked around downtown Charleston, from the cafe through the shopping district, to historic Charleston, admiring the southern architecture, cobblestone roads and sporadic “secret” gardens attached to the old-style houses that dotted the city.

Not to mention Josh snapped this awesome shot of me as the sun was setting. And people say biomed majors can’t take pictures.

Last but certainly not least we did it - we made it to the ocean. In conceiving this trip, neither Josh nor I really planned to head for an ocean, we merely wanted to drive around and visit friends. Also not necessarily a goal, when we realized we could see the Atlantic, the idea of it took hold. That being said, we made it. Sitting on a park bench in Charleston South Carolina, we watched the sun set on the Atlantic Ocean.

After a winter of misery and absolute shit in Rochester, it was more than even I could have asked for. I didn’t want to leave. So naturally, we took some stupid pictures:

After a late night at the club, it was rough getting up this morning. However, the sun was shining through the blinds…a good sign. We packed up and hit the road for Charleston, a three hour drive. We were excited to drive through Jackie’s hometown of Fort Mills though and practically stopped traffic so that Robert could snap the following photo:

Despite learning quite a bit about every stop on our journey, we can’t help but continue to be a bit biased and laugh at the stereotypes come to life.

After a stop at Starbucks, we were on the road with Robert behind the wheel.

The drive was particularly exciting because the longer it went on, the greener the scenery got. By the time we were off the highway and cruising local roads, the windows came down. There was a geniuine sense of elation and relief to bask in sunshine and (fairly) warm air. I think it was maybe 55 degrees out.

We made our way to the aquarium, a spontaneous decision, but first checked out the nearby view- the ocean. Robert was especially ecstatic.

That’s not even posed. He looks like that sometimes.

He’s making me post this one in retaliation though.

We conquered the aquarium. It was pretty good; I’m very grateful we didn’t come half an hour later because that’s when the middle school and high school students started flooding in. What horrible creatures those are. A parade of awkward specimens on display. Not unlike:

That’s a penguin parade. Yeah. Speaking of children, the aquarium brought out a side of Jackie we hadn’t seen before…the six year old side. She LOVED the otters.

…and the horseshoe crabs.

…and pretty much all the fish.

Here are some other photo highlights of the afternoon:

And on that note, we were through with the aquarium. We headed across town to check out the sites and get lunch. More on that from Robert.

After lunch and a perusal of the local Goodwill, we got back on the highway and made it to Jackie’s in the early evening. Like idiots we didn’t once pull out a camera. But it was an interesting evening to say the least. We met Jackie’s mom, her pilot friend, and Amanda, a close family friend. Oh, and Shy Anne, the dog.

Its hard to capture Amanda in words. In the first ten minutes of meeting Robert and I she had already pinned down our personalities and told each of us what our flaws and good qualities were, all of which were surprisingly accurate. (Editorial note - IT WAS TERRIFYING -robert) An eclectic woman, Amanda had quite possibly dozens of stories to tell us before dinner was ready. Some about dogs, some about ghosts (we were watching Ghost Hunters on tv, a strangely ever-present element of this trip and our lives as of late), some about world travel. Maybe Robert and I are particularly easy people to read, but it was strange how she was able to identify our friendship and traits very early in the evening.  Some people are really good at observing personalities, some people are good at being in touch with their beliefs and passions, and others still have crazy stories collected over the years. Amanda was all of these things.

Ron, Jackie’s mom’s friend, is an airplane pilot for corporate executives and flies all across the country.  An interesting character himself, we heard a number of stories about being in the military and flying obnoxious businessmen. He’s actually also an example of a theme that encapsulates an element of this trip.

In my mind, our road trip is not particularly ambitious or crazy. Hell, it’s really only been a few days long at this point. Still, there’s something about the idea of a road trip that connects pretty much everybody we’ve met. The second we explain that we’re driving in this big circle through a handful of states, people light up and recount their experiences roadtripping in college and beyond. The waiters at Lucky’s Café, the guy at the vineyard, Ron, and probably a bunch in between that we’ve forgotten. It’s a cultural thing for sure, but the concept of just getting in the car and spending hours with friends seems to be a universally awesome thing. And it seems like everyone has done it at some point. Some people get lost in their own memories, others simply want to know every detail of our trip in an effort, I imagine, to live vicariously through us if just for a few minutes.

Robert and I aren’t exactly the most spontaneous or out-of-comfort-zone type of guys that are going to make three dozen new friends across the country, but I think we’ve done pretty well for ourselves so far. Even a straightforward effort to drive around and visit our friends has yielded in a surprising variety of activities and experiences. I know road trips are a pretty common American way of vacationing, and Robert and I both probably went on a number of them as kids. But when you’re doing it yourself, with no expectations but good company, it’s immediately satisfying and freeing.  We spent a lot of day 3 listening to people  and sharing stories back and forth. It’s cliché, sure, but even the most obscure and bizarre off-tangent stories add to our lives in some way. Even the ones about ghost dogs, Mel Gibson, and corn chowder.

Oh, right, so at some point we had dinner. Homemade corn chowder with bacon and potatoes, a big salad (highly appreciated vegetables after a few days in a row of fried hot dogs, doughnuts, and chili).  Delicious. Wish we weren’t so bad at remembering when to use the cameras.

After dinner and a few episodes of Dog the Bounty Hunter, the three of us headed out to a club called the Dharma Lounge downtown.

It was a good night. A LOT of hipsters though. Dressed like Mario and Luigi.

This is what the majority of the drive looked like all morning on our way to South Carolina.  It was my turn to take the wheel and take us through the slushy brown and gray switchbacks of Appalachia. We woke up in our motel room to snow flurries and when Robert made small talk with the Days Inn woman and joked that we brought the snow with us from upstate New York, her mood immediately turned sour. Strangely the snow has been following us, as every area we’ve traveled to so far has had unusual snow on the ground (so we’re told).  Most of the drive was uneventful but often scenic and beautiful through the haze of snow. Driving out of West Virginia, sights like this were the norm as coal company ads played over the local radio station (interrupting our Tim McGraw listening).

On a related note, we were pretty fascinated by the names of towns in West Virginia…

By contrast, here’s one of the ones we passed later on on South Carolina:

Eventually we got through the mountains and the sun came out— a sight we hadn’t seen in awhile.

(goons.)

We drove for maybe three hours before we started to look for signs of things along the highway. We spotted a vineyard sign that claimed to be only a few miles away, so we headed there.

We pulled up and noticed that a “sorry, we’re closed” sign was present that we couldn’t see from the road. As we went to turn around in disappointment, though, a man came out the door waving at us. Turns out he lived on the property and invited us to come in and have do a wine tasting despite the place being closed for the season. He also invited us to walk around the vineyard.

It was freezing cold and the guy later explained to us that for them to have a blanket of snow like that was pretty unusual. At least he was more upbeat than the lady at the Days Inn.

So after a brisk walk around the property, we headed in for the wine. What followed next was over an hour of snobby wine talk between the Round Peak guy and Robert (I’m being polite here, it was intolerable). One quarter of Wines of the World and Bobby thinks he’s practically a well-off 40-something white guy with salt and pepper hair and a palette for the finer things in life. And a scooner. Named “The Other Woman”. (Editorial note - I hate you. -robert)

The whole thing was really chill and enjoyable. His dogs even had a good time with our visit.

We tasted…a bunch of wines. Since I’m writing this and not Robert, that’s about all you’re going to get. Some were good, some just okay. All very complicated to talk about. Maybe he’ll write a more sophisticated review later. Here’s what this guy looked like: (Editorial note - if you want to know about the wines, I took copious notes -robert)

Red wines, white wines, chocolate, two new wine glasses and three purchased bottles of wine later, we were buzzed and appreciative of the hospitality. The whole area was very quiet and had a great view of the mountains in the distance; we learned quite a bit about the vineyard community in South Carolina.

Like most of this roadtrip, our attempts to be artists have been a bit half-assed. While we originally thought we’d try to photograph most of the locals and people we met, we haven’t been very good about keeping on top of it. Anyway, here’s the guy we met there:

We asked him for a good place to grab lunch (necessary, as we hadn’t really grabbed breakfast and it was now mid afternoon and our bellies full of wine). He pointed us to a place ten minutes away, which we promptly got lost trying to find. We made it eventually though.

So this next part will be in the voice of Robert as dictated by me in the car as we barrel (I don’t like his driving so much) towards Charleston. I’m not sure how well this is going to work, but here goes.

“Basin Creek Country Store. The important thing that I learned on this trip when it comes to food it’s that when someone recommends something, you have to take them up on it. Every time we’ve done that we’ve had a good experience. We had no idea what this place was known for when we got there (Guy Fieri was silent on this area)—we were flying blind. The guy at the vineyard mentioned the catfish, which we were excited to experience. The waiter…did not recommend it so much. The place, instead, was more famous for its hamburgers. He also said that there shrimp boil was especially popular due to their homemade cocktail sauce. So naturally we ordered a half pound of shrimp and the Basin Creek burger.

(Robert’s practically Lou Manna right here)

In a restaurant hundred of miles away from the ocean yet still known for its seafood, the results were predictably average. But they did have damn good cocktail sauce.

We also went with the house special Basin Creek burger. This consisted of the wiater-described “thick and juicy” burger topped with chili, mustard, and onions, served with a lonely, flaccid pickle. No chips. No lettuce or tomato. Just meat, a different form of meat, mustard, and onions. Though sparse, it was pretty delicious. Could have used some chips or onion rings though. Just saying.”

The Southern-style “Americana” adorning the walls was particularly enjoyable. This…this is why we came.