Chicago

Here is a word about digital maps: they are only as good as your connection to an active data network.  Without this active data network what you have is a cell phone and if you lose your signal, what you have is a piece of metal.  Pieces of metal, when you are diving in a new city during rush hour traffic, are helpful only for throwing at your husband's head while exclaiming "we really do not have the name, phone number or address nor directions to this hotel written down anywhere???"
(disclaimer: I am not given to fits of violent rage, especially not in front of my children and I would not potentially incapacitate the driver of a car in which I was riding)

Needless to say, we made it after no small amount of horn honking, fist waving and general dumb luck and stumbled, wind blasted and bewildered into the lobby and somehow made it to our room with all 17 pieces of luggage (people think we are joking when we say we are carrying a year's worth of clothing).
After peeing and apologizing, we were back in good form and ready to go exploring.

First stop:  a walk to Santorini's in Greektown at Sammy Amato's recommendation.  From the outside it looked like the sort of place one would pass on their way to something interesting.  But enter through the doors and....holy delicious Greek food Batman.

                    

Cold Weather Query: can the air make your face so cold that you can't move it?
and
is this what Botox feels like? (note to self: never get Botox)
Since we couldn't move our faces, we were unable to smile and the photographs of ourselves looked like we were auditioning for a documentary about the Great Depression. So there are no usable photos of us at Santorini's but what a view from our table, huh?

Breakfast the next morning was slightly less elaborate although that truck is pretty sophisticated, I must say. (Cupcakes? Yes, don't judge, we are on vacation)

                                                       

                        

The plan for the day was to go to the Field Museum where we heard they had a dinosaur exhibit: education and entertainment, the modern American way.

After some confusion regarding which bus to take, we hopped on one and met Richard, the nicest bus driver in the world who, rather than kicking us off declaring "you fools are on the wrong bus", instead let us stay on without paying him any fare (4 passengers, mind you) and gave us detailed instructions regarding where to buy day passes for buses and trains as well as which buses to take to get us back to our hotel.  When he found out where we are from he told us that his son lives in the Filmore and that he is a jazz musician and that he loves San Francisco and had a great time riding BART while there.
                                   Cheers to you, Richard: Chicago Bus Driver Extraordinare!
On to the Field museum which was so cool that even after a breakfast consisting of one cupcake, the boys did not want to leave after over four hours of exploring but alas, when Leigha gets hungry, things get ugly.

Look at this place.  What boy would not want to spend the day here?                                  

                                      

                 
One photo with the Lake Michigan skyline in the back ground is obligatory even if it's minus -something - ungodly and there's actual pain involved while posing.

                             
At last Luci got his deep-dish, Chicago-style pizza.  After hours walking in the museum and then out in the cold it was a little (or big) slice of heaven.

                                        
Then, since we hadn't been out in the cold quite enough, it was off to the Willis (formerly Sears) Tower for some hair raising moments at the observation deck and a spectacular view on a gorgeously clear night

Just to prove how doggone cold it was....

                                         Good thing we had our Practical German Coats

Next morning, at the recommendation of Derric, we hopped on the bus and headed to a famous Chicago breakfast joint where, much to the boys' delight, they hand you fresh baked donut holes right when you walk in the door.  Lou Mitchell's philosophy appears to be something along the lines of: "cholesterol?  calories?  bah!"  Interestingly, even in February with several inches of fresh snow on the ground (also to the delight of the boys), they offer ice cream as an after breakfast dessert.

                                         

                                          We will brave all kinds of weather for good food

Omaha to Chicago

...and the rest of the story goes....
Into Amatos we go for ricotta pancakes before we hit the road to Chicago.  Its bitterly cold (18 with windchill, overcast and reports of snow on the way) but once inside, our glasses fog with the warmth and we are greeted with the smell of maple syrup and coffee.  Its just before 7 am but the cook from last night is behind the grill again.  The waitress says "sit wherever you'd like" and we pick the booth in the corner, passing a priest at one table, a public utilities worker at another and two medical personnel from the health center across the street.  After we sit down, a business man in a dapper looking wool coat comes in and the conversation goes something like this:
            Waitress: "Hey Tim."
            Dapper man named Tim "Good morning"
            Priest "I saw your niece in here the other morning, Tim.  She said she had a good trip."
            Tim "Yes she did."
I feel like I'm in a Carson McCullers novel only without the gut wrenching angst.
In the middle of breakfast Sammy Amato comes in and announces to the patrons "These guys here are moving to Romania."  Before this we had merely been a quartet of unkempt strangers but after the announcement we are suddenly people of interest.  Sammy pulls a chair up to our table and he and Mihai, being fellow Butcher, Baker, and Sausage Makers, discuss various methods of cheese making.

Unkempt stranger

                                                     
Sammy gives us some restaurant recommendations for Chicago and beyond and we dutifully note these since this man clearly knows good food.  As we leave he volunteers to come with us as our cook and the patrons wish us safe journey and 'see you on the return trip back' and somehow I feel that if we were to show up for breakfast one year from now, we would more than likely find Tim, the priest and the utility worker tucking into triple berry ricotta pancakes just like today.
                          
                                               Out onto the road....
Its cold.
It looks pretty much exactly like the last 500 miles we've just driven through.
I mean no disrespect to Iowans or to the state of Iowa; I have been here several times and I know from past experience that it can offer some beautiful scenery and no doubt some great eats.  Found within the boarders of this state are the birth place of John Wayne, the birth place of Tony Dean, and if you are still not convinced of its merits let me remind you of a certain bestseller/Meryl Streep/Clint Eastwood movie The Bridges of Madison County.
So it wasn't due to a lack of interesting places to see that kept us in the van and barreling through from Council Bluffs to Davenport it was just that quite frankly, it was below freezing, we were really tired of snacking on gas station food and we couldn't wait to get to Chicago and stretch our legs in the city.  So here is Iowa, the abbreviated version:

Does it look cold?  No?  Well it was. 

(but still pretty for all that)

Cheyenne to Omaha

Pilot and co-pilot.

In our case co-piloting involves reminding the other person not to fall asleep at the wheel.  Otherwise it's just east, east, east...

And here's Nebraska.  We went through longitudinally.  Just so you know, that's not the shortest way through the state.  

Occasionally we stop, wake the kids and force them and ourselves out of the car so that none of us develop DVTs.
But mostly we just drive.  And drive.  And drive.  And remind ourselves that we did want to do this, right?  Oh yes. But probably we should have brought more CDs along.

Ultimate destination: Omaha.  That is to say, Amato's in Omaha.  Yeah, there's a story there.
                               

After the dearth of interesting dining possibilities in Wyoming, we were happy to discover a plethora of choices in Omaha of all unexpected places.  We settled on Amato's, based on Guy Fieri's feature on Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives and the fact that the owner makes, not only his own sausage  but also his own ricotta cheese on site.  Drool.  Since we arrived early in the evening, we were the only guests in the restaurant so we got to sit down with Sam Amato who shared his photo album and stories about shooting the piece for the show.  Tomorrow morning we go back for the ricotta pancakes!

                             
In the meantime we go back to the hotel and swim in their awesome indoor pool (necessary when it's 15 degrees outside).
Also, they had a washer and dryer (necessary when you've been living out of a suitcase for six days).

Salt Lake City to Cheyenne

I've driven this stretch of I-80 more times than anyone who is not a long-haul trucker should admit to.  So I knew what to expect but it's fun seeing it through the eyes of Mihai and the boys.  

Yes, there's a lot of space in this country (but not much else)

However, what this stretch of I-80 lacks in dining options of any kind it makes up for in scenery such as the following:

This is all from out the car window because clearly it was freezing.  Imagine what we might have seen if we had taken an exit and gone exploring (and imagine how pathetic our frozen little bodies would look when they were discovered in the spring thaw by some poor hapless hiker...)

And it's all beautiful, right?  And two hours of it produces this effect:

Other than a few patches of heavy snow blowing across an ice-covered road, it was a rather uneventful (but looong) drive to our destination: Cheyenne.

At the Old West Museum in Cheyenne (really, that's its name, I didn't make it up to be cute)

One of the joys of parenthood is forcing your children into dorky situations, photographing them and then distributing said photos as far and wide as possible.

This photo begins and ends the entertainment section of "Discover Cheyenne, Wyoming", unless as entertainment you count the 30 minutes spent driving around downtown (7 square blocks) in search of the restaurants that you were told could be found there.  We discovered that restaurant can be widely defined: Arby's and Carl's Jr. qualify for this designation in Cheyenne, as does the unlikely named "Dynasty Gourmet Chinese and Taco Bar" which was unfortunately closed due to demolition.

Santa Cruz to Salt Lake City

So we are underway apparently.  

Having a year's worth of clothes and other personal affects stuffed into suitcases and piled into the back of the van was the first big clue that this is actually happening.

Except our first stop was the house of my aunt and cousins in Auburn where we like to come a couple of times a year. So in that respect it was kind of like any other mini-holiday/extended-weekend but with a lot more clothes.  

Auburn is only a four-hour drive from Santa Cruz so you could be justified in asking, "What is wrong with you guys, are you too chicken to go farther and really begin this journey?"

No, not guilty.

This first stop was totally necessary in order to say good-bye to this dear branch of our family who faithfully feed and house us at regular intervals throughout the year, who provide us with a place to escape and relax, a sanctuary where we can commune with nature and recharge our souls, and eat like Union soldiers just released from Andersonville.

And feed us they did, with their usual abundant hospitality.
And once that was done, we were off!
The moment we ignored the 80 West Sacramento sign and turned left to follow the 80 East Reno sign, well, that made it seem real.
Kind of.
It comes incrementally.
Each border crossing reinforces the realness, each mile of as-yet-uncovered terrain, each new town with names not quite foreign but not quite familiar.  Step by step traveling father away from home.
We were determined to photograph each Welcome To ---- state sign.  But somehow we missed Nevada. We didn't miss seeing it, we missed photographing it.  Because we sort of forgot that in order to photograph something, you have to have a camera present.  Not stuffed in a bag under the back seat but, rather, in your hands, lens cap off, finger on the shutter, pointing through the windshield.
Next time.
So, first Nevada:

Do you go to Lovelock, Nevada, pop. 2,000 and NOT eat at the Cowpoke Cafe?  No, you do not.  Unless of course its a Sunday and the place is unfortunately closed in which case you eat at the local pizza joint.

                                   

 Wide open spaces

                                                           

Then on into Utah. (oh, did you think I meant that I would include shots of the Welcome To ---- state signs?  You don't really need to see those, do you? yawn.)  

We commenced with eating our way through Salt Lake City.  First a German place Mihai found that proclaimed it had fantastic sauerkraut.  And they were right.

Then Moochie's Meatballs featured on Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives (yeah Guy Fieri!).  We have set a goal for ourselves: no fast food, no chains.  Not that we're trying to be food snobs (eating at a place called Moochie's Meatballs makes that kind of difficult to achieve) but we're trying to get the broadest swath of new tastes and experiences possible in our rather brief stays.

When we weren't stuffing our face with fried chicken and meatballs, we were walking around exploring Salt Lake City.  It's a very organized place, I must say.  Wide streets, very little traffic, clean. It had a rather secure feeling to it which is a nice way to being your year-long-journey away from home. But it's just about as cold as it looks.  No, it's colder.  Good thing we had our  "Practical German Coats"*

*(see SNL season 34 episode 7 for reference as this will be a running joke)