Park City, Utah

Stage V: Park City, UT



Here's the long and the short of it:



Long was the drive to Park City, short was our stay. More of a true winter resort ONLY, we arrived at the deserted Canyons Resort in Park City late in the afternoon on Thursday, July 23rd. And for the first time on our journey, Hotwire failed us. There was no reservation at the resort under either name so we had no room at first. After an hour or so at the front desk things were cleared up and we had our room. It's amazing how little fight I had in me following 2100 miles of driving prior to landing in Park City. As much as I wanted to lay into the Hotwire rep for embarrassing me at the front desk at the resort, I just didn't have it in me. Sure, I wanted free shit as a result of the mishap. I wanted a deal, man. We booked every room on that trip with those fuckers, they owed us. But I was subdued by my fatigue and yearning for a square meal.



The greatest part of this stop was the tub in our hotel room. I can't tell you how much we valued the jacuzzi-style, giant bath tub that lay waiting for us in the bathroom. So following a suprisingly elegant and gourmet dinner (Lauren had a nice piece of tuna and I had a game bird meatloaf sandwich...tremendous), we relegated ourselves to the confines of this tub and sort of just melted into it. Our bones were tired as we made a lifeless human stew. After our glorious soak, we had all we could do to climb into bed and rest our heads. Sleep came quickly, but not as quickly as 5am. Friday would be our longest day of driving, through the deplorable wasteland that is Nevada and ultimately over the border into California, landing in San Francisco.



I wish I had more to say about Park City but like I said, this stop on the tour was much more of a rejuventing rest (all be it a short one) than anything else. Plus, as I mentioned, there wasn't SHIT to do up there. Alas, there are photos.

The Canyons Resort, Park City, UT. Here's where you valet your car for free, but then pay $18 for the garage. I guess this is more acceptable than the $49 charge for parking in Chicago and San Francisco. I should mention that at 5am, it was only about 55 degrees in Park City. The lowest temperature we encountered on the trip was 48 degrees as we wound through the Rockies. Conversely, the highest temp was 104 degrees in beautiful Fort Hays, KS. That was recorded about three hours before the 48 degree reading, marking a 56 degree change over a three hour span. I was very excited about this.

The gondola, which had taken the night off on Thursday. Had we more time, we could have taken this bitch to the top of the mountain and had lunch for a mere $40 a person. And I'm pretty sure the lunch was pb&j's. Hey, it's all about the views, man. The views. Look at that sun rise.

This is kind of a shitty photo...one that I took, undoubtedly. I believe this to be our resort from afar with the mountain behind it. Yes, that mountainous, cone-shaped mass behind the resort is in fact a mountain.

Sunrise in Park City...

And finally, Chad and Lauren, pre-coffee at 5:30am as we prepare to depart Park City. She looks cute at this time of day. I look like a fucking idiot.

And the final stage of the trip shall follow shortly.

To Know A Vail

Stage IV: Vail, Colorado

I know, I should have wrapped up this trip wrap-up long ago. It's not like I'm pressed for time to write out here.

To me, the last two legs of the trip offered some of the best and some of the worst of our journey. The 500 miles or so between Lawrence, KS and Vail, CO presented the most boring, mentally challenging stretch of drive that I ever hope to encounter. In fact, I can't imagine a more monotonous ride than that, except maybe 98% of Canada by car. There is nothing- and I repeat: NOTHING- between Lawrence and eastern Colorado. I had to check my sanity several times as Lauren snoozed away comfortably in the passenger's seat, never having noticed my newly created imaginary friend Dierks, a miniature dodo bird who liked to entertain. I discarded him just outside of Denver, when his services were no longer in demand. I wish him well.

I will say that the trek across Kansas became well worth it as we wound our way through a suburb of Denver in search of dinner, aka Buffalo Wild Wings. Aside from the abdominal failure that I experienced halfway through our meal (side note here: BWW was redoing one of the bathrooms at the time and therefore, it had to be shared between the sexes. Upon my exit from said bathroom, a woman sat in waiting with a look of fear on her face. I can't say I blame her.) we enjoyed our feast of bird. They let us try all all the flavors by way of a true pallet of sauce and while the Blazin' beat my ass pretty good, we loved their medium hot sauce and thus purchased a bottle to go. Also well worth it? Seeing the Rockies for the first time, and by that I don't mean the Coors Field Nine. I felt like a little boy when those fuckers finally peaked over the horizon and introduced themselves.

I have more of a pictorial theme for this particular stage, chiefly because of the sheer beauty of Vail, Colorado and the majesty of the Rocky Mountains. Please enjoy my lovely girlfriend's photography and further French commentary on the scenery.

This is where one might buy a lift ticket (imagine!!) in the winter. Picture lots of people in hats and scarves, some with poles even. I hear people like to ski here when it snows.

Mickey's Piano Bar inside The Lodge at Vail. Mickey owns the bar and still plays here every night, as he's been doing for thirty years. Seeing as Lauren and I were the only couple under 50 in this place, he took a liking to us and made the night we spent there very enjoyable. He played me some Scott Joplin which was awesome and he took a few other requests from us as well. The only thing I regret is mixing scotch, beer and gin over the course of the 3 hours we spent there. I paid dearly for that one the next day.

Mountains n'avec pas le neige.

And mountains avec le neige.

For some reason I was overly excited about these tunnels that burrow through the mountains. To me, there's nothing like a highway that digs right into the base of a mountain and carries you right through to the other side. Ahh, the marvels of human evolution and the DPW.

The first shot of the village at Vail, but notice how Lauren captured the flight of this hawk just before he dives below the horizon. Elusive he tried to be but ohh, the crafty hawk was outsmarted on this day.

More from the streets of the village...

The one shot I took.

Still to come: Park City, San Francisco, Santa Cruz and the Gilroy Garlic Festival.

Que, Si?

Stage III: Kansas City, MO/Lawrence, KS

Ahh yes, the halfway point of the trip. Chicago to Kansas City is roughly another 500 miles through the rest of Illinois and then the length of Missouri. One stop in Mexico, MO for gas and a McDonald's sundae/grilled chicken sandwich (the only McD's stop on the trip mind you...Subway, as I mentioned, was our provision of choice). Missouri provided Lauren and with our first glimpse of the mightly Mississippi River (seen below).

Sure, these are taken from a moving vehicle but all things considered, the quality is right there.

We arrived in downtown KC late Tuesday afternoon and I put in the call to a one James Hammen. We agreed that he would pick us up at the hotel and take us on a mini tour of the city (also known as the direct route to the restaurant) and eventually to dinner where Alex would meet us after class. Let it be known that upon entering Jimbo's blue Element, the iPod mounted on the dash was playing Zeppelin's Going to California. And it was apparently purely coincidental. This is the stuff that dreams are made of, my friends.

Shortly thereafter, we (me, Lauren, Hammen and Alex) would be sitting in Manny's Mexican Restaurant drinking Corona's, margueritas and sampling the diablo sauce that was reported to be very hot. It was not, but I did encounter an internal battle the next day due to excessive consumption of el diablo. Anyway, aside from getting cozy with el diablo at Manny's, I also learned of Hammen's blatant fear of tequila. I brought two shots of Patron back to the table at one point and I got the Hammen Heisman...he deferred to Alex. Just pointing this out is all.

So we wrapped up at Manny's and decided that Lauren and I needed to see Lawrence the next day. Breakfast in downtown Lawrence was a real treat, at Milton's Cafe. Really good stuff. I had a particular appreciation for the self-service coffee bar. all for $1. Nothing like small town prices, either. We loved Lawrence. It would have been a great place to go to college, as the town itself was really cool. Interesting shops (that we couldn't go into because it was ass early) and a Jimmy John's that apparently gives out free sub samples on occasion. Let it also be noted that throughout the outdoor breakfast we enjoyed, there sat a box of Jimmy John's loaves on a bench adjacent to our table. Just pointing that out. Here's us at Milton's.

So we concluded this leg of the trip with an escorted ride to KU (thanks Alex), where we would shop the bookstore for a long time. That place is huge, by the way and how one can choose a single t-shirt to purchase is beyond me. I eventually did, and Lauren found some sweet red shorts with 'Rock Chalk' across the ass. Very nice.

Thanks for Hammen and Alex for a great time in Kansas. Unfortunately Lawrence is the only good thing about Kansas, as you'll learn when I post about stage IV of the trip...Western Kansas to Vail, Colorado. Little place called Fort Hays, KS in the western part of the state...place I'll never forget.

LA King

Read this: http://sports.espn.go.com/mlb/columns/story?columnist=stark_jayson&page=rumblings

I'm not quite sure what to make of the whole thing, really. I was a Manny apologist for a long time, along with a lot of friends and some family members. It's hard not to be when talking about not only the best player on your town's team but arguably one of the best players to ever don the Boston uniform. I once wrote into Gordon Edes of the Boston Globe (one of my favorite sports writers along with the aforelinked Stark) suggesting that Manny is one of the top three right-handed hitters of all-time in the history of baseball. It's not that big of a stretch to lump him in that category, really. Back then I didn't care about all the antics that came along with having Manny Ramirez on the Sox roster. I guess I kind of care now.

I read this article and I too wonder about the makeup of Dodger fans. Don't get me wrong, I think it's fantastic that they are now poised to take the NL West and return some sense of pride to this city that hasn't been realized since the days of Gibby. 20 years is tough, I know. Try 86 on for size. I also know for a fact that there are some diehard Dodger fans who love the game, continue to support their boys year in and year out and those people, some of whom I've conversed with at the gym, aren't applauding Manny and his suddenly workmanlike ways in Dodger blue. They're wowing Jason Bay and Kevin Youkilis for "existing without Manny". Interesting. Your Dodgers are rejuvenated, playing great ball and most importantly, in first. You probably should be saying things like "thanks for Manny", or "think the Sox will be fine without Manny?" It's nice to not hear those types of questions, because the Sox are fine without Manny and Boston is better off.

Maybe Kevin Youkilis isn't doing anything new, because he's not. In Youkilis, the Sox have a guy who cares more about one, single swinging strike than Manny ever cared about an entire season of baseball. Youkilis may be a pain in the ass in terms of his emotions and dramas on the field, but it's merely because he loves to play, hates to lose and more importantly, LOVES to win. I'm not sure Manny ever cared about losing. I know that Manny had some kind of problem with Youkilis, displaying some his ability to slap a man with a backhand much like the famed "bitchslap" we've all come to know. Impressive. And from what I know of that situation (hearsay, mind you) it had to do with Youkilis getting on Manny a little bit for not caring enough and Manny felt as though Youk perhaps was taking a game scenario a little too seriously. Case in point. Doesn't every game count? A loss in May could very well come back to haunt a team in the playoff hunt in late September just as easily as a loss in...well...late September. They all matter in some regard.

I tend to wonder how D Lowe, Nomar and others in LA that have worn the navy and red cap in the Fens feel about having Manny back on a common roster. Nomar and D Lowe both alluded to him being a great hitter and a powerful presence in any lineup. True. I will never discount Manny's ability to change the face of a team, a game or a season for that matter. He's one of the greatest hitters of all time and apparently he works harder off the field than most. He likes to keep that under his cap for whatever reason. I guess I'll give Manny credit for not caring what anyone thinks of him. Clearly he couldn't have cared less about the feelings of others in Boston. Reportedly, 24 of 25 Sox on the Manny-included roster thought it was time to go. The one who didn't? Not surprisingly David Ortiz, his best friend.

I don't know about you, but I'm happy about the Jason Bay era in Boston. Through the looking glass that is my laptop and Sportscenter, he looks like a likable guy. He hits, he fields and all fingers point to him being a good clubhouse guy. Plus, he's 29. Of course you lose something in terms of power and production but I'm willing to bet that it turns out to be minimal at worst, especially when you take into account that an unhappy Manny in Boston was often times an unproductive and cancerous Manny. As the season trudges on, the Sox making the playoffs won't be about just Jason Bay's bat, or Jon Lester's arm or Jacoby Ellsbury's legs. It'll be about the team effort and unity of a clubhouse that would appear to a happy place once again.

Side note: if Jed Lowrie gets benched when Lugo returns from the DL, it'll be a travesty. There's another guy I want in the Sox lineup every night. I think he already might have more hits in two months than Lugo has had all season. And we ALL know the errors are down with Lowrie at short.

Side note II: my rainless streak in LA is officially over, and it lasted 20 days. It rained for five minutes on my way home from the gym today. Waaaaaaaaaaaaah.

Top Five: Los Angeles

Perhaps it's a little early for me to be judging what the best things about LA are, a mere 9 days into my residence here. However, it might be interesting to see what changes about this Top Five over time and what remains. I have a funny feeling about a few that are pretty certain to reserve a permanent spot on this list...please enjoy.

1. The weather. Everything you've heard, everything you've seen and everything you've read about the weather out here is entirely true. And most of the time, it's vastly understated because folks don't want to make 'other people' (aka New Englanders) overflow with jealous rage. Let me tell you something pal, it's fucking fantastic. I've been working outside as I've mentioned, and thus far, the variations in temperature have been no more than 5-10 degrees away from that magic number of 75°. That's a pretty nifty number when we're talking temperature. So when people talk about "it must be the people", or "it must be the sunsets" or even "it must be the air" (save it, the smog isn't even an afterthought) they are lying to you. They are lying sacks of shit. It's the weather, man. The WEATHER.

2. I already mentioned the weather, yes? Let's move onto the coffee. I guess I was growing tired of Dunkin', or better known to New Englanders as crack. Starbucks is everywhere, yes. But Coffee Bean is not. I'll never understand why more places don't serve their drinks with crushed ice. It improves the rating of the drink by 2 points alone if it simply has crushed ice. Is it that much more expensive to use it? No way. Coffee with crushed ice. A-ok in my book. Although as I champion Coffee Bean, I encountered my first gripe yesterday: too much ice. Not only did the peabrain take 10 minutes to make my ICED COFFEE, he left me with what equated to three sips of coffee. Thanks Dbag. Time to go back to ice school and learn about what an acceptable amount is. What's not acceptable? An assload, which is what you delivered to this guy yesterday. Tighten it up, sport. (avoid the little black dude at the Bean in downtown Palisades...he's an icy little fucker)

3. The food. This is merely a consequence of moving to a new city. The food is new, it's exciting and in LA, there are waaaaaaay too many new places to go on a given day. I feel as though I had a good handle on dining in Boston. I knew where to get great sushi, great steak (once upon a time), great chowder, an awesome sub, a tasty breakfast...now I get to learn the culinary ropes all over again and I'm amped up about it. I will tell you that there's an incredibly cheap and generous sushi place in Santa Monica that has good stuff and the service is fast. Well, fast might be the understatement of the year. Lauren and I are there last night and our first roll came out in 30 seconds. I shit you not. 30 seconds. And it was constructed well, I might add. The others, not so much but they were acceptable. We had finished the entirety of the meal and paid the bill in under 20 minutes. You can't power through McD's at that speed, son. I am suddenly cautious of the fish quality, however. Lauren pointed out that their overuse of mayo might be simply hiding poor quality. Maybe so. But I'm going to keep testing that theory until I get violently ill there. Stay tuned, puke fans.

4. The roads are mostly freshly paved from what I've seen, and the backdrop of the Pacific Ocean and the endless beaches off of the Pacific Coast Highway will never get tired. And the drivers here are a fucking delight! I never really considered myself to be an asshole driver. Maybe a tad aggressive at times, sure. Unreasonably impatient, yes. Occasionally prone to violence inflicted on the steering wheel, mhm. But I'm a good driver. From what I've seen so far, no one is terribly aggressive. People obey the rules of the road and, get this Mass residents, Angelinos apparently understand what a YIELD sign means! I can now die in peace. So for all you fucking halfwits who continue to STOP at a YIELD sign, take a lesson from drivers out west. It means proceed with caution. And under NO CIRCUMSTANCES do you stop, lest there be a free beer stand that suddenly appears out of nowhere. Then and ONLY then can you stop at a YIELD.

5. The Dodgers are growing on me, slowly but surely. Yes, Manny being here gets the bulk of the credit for that but also receiving votes are Vin Scully, the uniforms and the all-you-can-eat tickets. Let me rephrase that...the tickets that include an all-you-can-eat buffet. I hope to get to a game this month and I can't wait to count how many Manny t-shirts are in attendance. I heard that people had them on from game one of his stint here, #99 and all. (side note here...the whole "great one" moniker that certain SportsCenter anchors are using in Manny highlights needs to stop. Seriously. It's an insult to the actual Great One, not that Manny isn't great. He's just not THE Great One) I also really like the fact the Dodgers are the only team in baseball that have the rights to a color; Dodger blue. And there's something really neat about the red numbers on the front of their jerseys. Neat. Hey, that's neat.

I don't know what's gotten into me lately...I'm apparently using the word 'neat'. Must be the weather.

Part II: Chicago, IL

Buffalo to Chicago. Roughly 500 miles, give or take a few. If you sneeze, you’ll miss Pennsylvania, which represents about 30 miles of this leg. You then pass through what I believe to be the most beautiful part of this country: Ohio. And if you believe that, you’ll probably also believe that since I’ve left for California not only have I taken up a life of pimping, but I’m also now Hispanic and my name has been changed to Chancho.

Ohio is awful. It couldn’t decide whether it wanted to be a state with three fairly decent sized and fairly cool cities or a desolate range of partially tended farmland. So we were left with a place that offers three kinda crappy, not-so-cool cities and a desolate range of partially tended farmland. It just has nothing to offer as far as I’m concerned, but what do I know? They do have Cedar Point which I’ve heard is the best place to ride a roller coaster in the world. In a past life, that would have been good enough for me to crown Ohio as the most beautiful part of this country.

Onto Chicago, which now stands as my favorite city in this country that I have visited. Sorry Boston, but there’s something about Chicago that exudes a coolness that other cities don’t seem to offer. It’s part New York, part Boston and part San Francisco; all three of those in themselves are wonderful places but take the best parts of them all and combine them into one and you get Chicago. It has the charm of a small city, the look and occasional feel of a big city and the waterfront of a coastal city. We arrived late in the afternoon to check into the Intercontinental hotel on Michigan Avenue. I drove by it the first time and as a result, we didn’t make it back to the hotel for another 20 minutes.

I could have let the parking rate for the hotel really chap my ass ($49 per night) but I let it roll off. My mindset the whole time on this trip was one of careful apathy when talking about practicality. You may think that the Intercon is anything but practical, but Hotwire makes pretty much any hotel a one star joint in price. It’s the way to travel, especially when you’re booking for the next day and theretofore by the skin of your teeth. I digress…our room was sweet, the view was cool (down Michigan Ave from the 22nd floor) and the location was perfect for what we needed. After all, when you’re in a city for one night and you want to be able to get the feel of it in a short period of time, you need to be centralized and within a few walking minutes of everything that interests you. For us, that was Nordstrom, the Chicago river and Gino’s East.

By the time we got out of the hotel room, it was time to eat. We briefly browsed the sales tables on Nordstrom and off we went to Gino’s per the suggestion of Neal, Lauren’s stepdad. Being from Chicago, he was our virtual tour guide for this trip. He didn’t fail us. Gino’s was great. We shared a deep dish pie with spinach and garlic, an order of buffalo wings and a pitcher of Bud Light. Sure, we eliminated the prospect of making out later on that night, but this wasn’t about the romance of Chicago. It was about the food and the city itself. The wings were, interestingly enough, better than the ones we had in Buffalo. And the pie was glorious. Lauren had to put half of the cheese aside in order to avoid cheese overload and certainly a bout of constipation. Rightfully so, because there was enough cheese on that fucker to impress Pizza the Hut.

I have to comment on our waiter from Gino's. His name was 'DJ', but that was short for something like Djovanovic Jokovic. Or something blatantly Russian. He was pretty unattentive, spoke poor English and forgot to put in out order for free garlic sticks (we were given a coupon by the concierge at the hotel for a free appetizer of Gino's choice). His response to me when I asked about the sticks was as follows:


Me: Are we getting those garlic sticks?


Russian DJ: Garleek Steeks...ooohhhhh...vun second.


(Russian DJ scurries away, returns in two minutes)


I check on steeks, keechun messed up. Sorry bout dat. You want me put in order agayne?


Me: No, it's ok.


He told us to come back with the coupon another time and use it then. We were ok with this suggestion, full well knowing that it might be years before we're back in Chicago. And we weren't mad at Russian DJ. In fact, Lauren and I both agreed that we'd have blamed the kitchen as well, had we forgotten to put in an order of garleek steeks.


Post dinner, we circled a few blocks and eventually walked in the direction of a nifty outdoor park that had an art showcase going on at the time. After this, we took some more pictures by the riverfront and decided to retire for the night. We would rise early the next morning, grab some breakfast burritos from a totally random place (really, really good) and then it was off to Descartes Coffee to try and get free Wifi with which to book our next hotel. Unsuccessful. And their coffee wasn't quite as superb as I had imagined in my daydream about Descartes Coffee. So again we fell into a Starbucks, had good coffee and bought some internet time with which we'd book our hotel in Kansas City...land of Hammen and Jayhawks and a SWEET Sonic drive thru. Not that we actually went, but the thing looked really tight from the street.

Stay tuned for Stage Three: Kansas City, MO/Lawrence, KS

First Impressions

As I near the end of my first full week here in the city of Angels (I have yet to see an angel, by the way...with the exception of the LA nine who play down in Anaheim and frankly, they're more devils than angels with the beating they put on the Sox recently), I want to reflect on some of the things that have impacted things for me so far.

For starters, work is sort of a combination of things for me lately. I wake up at 4:45am in order to get to my client base when they get to work on the east coast. This doesn't bode well for my incredibly strong penchant for sleep lately, but who doesn't want to stay in bed when the alarm goes off prior to 6am? 7am? 3pm? Taylor, I'm talking to you. By the time 8:00 rolls around, I've already put in 3 hours of work. But instead of taking a lunch break, I make coffee and a nice, big breakfast for me and mine. So lunch is technically a breakfast break now. By the time lunch rolls around, it's the end of the work day. It's totally bizarre but fucking fantastic at the same time. I'm lucky enough to have a place to work that offers free Wifi and it also happens to be outside, in the midst of several water fountains and plenty of palm trees. All in all, it's not bad. In fact it's totally and completely awesome. I have lunch with Lauren every day in this public garden and then I go to the gym.

The gym is otherwordly from what I am used to. I run on a treadmill that sits outside and overlooks the expanse of the Pacific Ocean from its third story perch. For some reason, no one else runs on these treadmills; they opt for the indoor and far more typical variety. I guess there's no novelty of perfect weather for the average Los Angelan but for me, I suspect this won't wear off for a long, long time. Lauren mentioned to me today that the biggest part of the novelty will come in October/November when the weather doesn't take a fucking drastic turn towards shit town. My morning conversations in December will go from "Should I wear long underwear under my slacks today?" to "Should I wear my board shorts under my shorts today?" The word booyeah comes to mind.

The last thing I want to discuss briefly before I shut down and enjoy the rest of this perfect afternoon is Manny. Somehow he's a Dodger now, and the LA lineup loosely resembles a patchwotk Sox team from years back. On a given night, you could be looking at Manny, D Lowe and Nomar all in Dodger blue, and the topper would be them being managed by Torre which is more of an ironic twist of fate. If this were a year back, I'd be talking about how weird it is that Manny will be playing for Grady again but I would have to surmise that Torre is just tickled that Manny will be in HIS lineup for once and not the opposing team's lineup. I won't go too much into detail about this whole trade because frankly, I don't care that much. Manny's expiration date in Boston probably shouldn't have been as late as it ended up being and he had certainly worn out his welcome there. LA on the other hand is a dream situation for him. They need a pwer hitter and they need a personality in a town that thrives on characters. The fans here are going to love him and I would only imagine that he'll love being a Dodger for the time being. I can see him finishing his career here if all works out, and that's just fine with me.

Part II, Chicago is still a work in progress. Stay tuned.

Salut mes amis.