Go West Young Women, Go West

June 28, 2014

It was almost July 4 and the corn around Wisconsin was knee-high - a perfect time to head west and begin another epic Griswold family road trip. This time, we decided to heed that advice from the 19th Century newspaper editor, Horace Greeley, who famously once said:

Go West, young woman, go West. There is health in the country, and room away from our crowds of idlers and imbeciles.

The young women are excited at getting away from crowds of idlers and imbeciles

Because Nastassja and Emily had a swim meet that morning (coincidentally at which we didn't see any idlers or imbeciles), we were unable to begin our road trip at our usual break of dawn and did not leave Madison until noon.

Becky started out in the driver's seat so I could watch Brazil match up against Chile in the World Cup on my iPhone. The last time I had headed west was in June 2004 and with no smart phones back in those dark days of mobile internet coverage, I missed out on the first two weeks of Euro 2004. This time I was determined to keep up with the World Cup through our travels. However, by the Wisconsin Dells, AT&T's mobile network had failed me and the cell phone signal could no longer support streaming video. I resorted to an outmoded 20th Century means of communication and listened to the end of the match on the radio.

As we crossed the mighty Mississippi by La Crosse, I was inspired by Chevy Chase in Vacation to sing about the deep river to the children. Unfortunately, as I began to sing, Nastassja and Emily  immediately put their headphones back on, thereby missing out on my tribute to old man river.

The kids were not impressed with my Chevy Chase imitation. 

As the afternoon began to wear on down I-90, we decided to look for our daily perk-me-up with a latte. We took the Austin exit, hoping to find a local coffee shop. According to Wikipedia, Austin is known for three things - the Hormel factory that makes most of North America's Spam, major tornadoes, and major floods. I'm not sure which of the three is worse.

After we drove past the lovely Spam factory, the first local coffee shop we encountered was the the Brick House Coffee House, which not only appeared to be someone's house, but was also closed on a Saturday afternoon. Their website also stated that reservations were encouraged. Reservations for a coffee shop?

Next, we went down Main Street and saw that the Coffee House on Main was also closed. Finally, we drove by a third coffee shop that came up on the app Around Me, which I believe was the Morning Grind. However, all we saw was a building that look like a funeral parlor or church.We ended up going to McDonald's for lattes.

So much for helping out the independent small business. But it got worse. When Becky asked for skim milk in her latte, the McDonald's cashier told her that they only had non-fat and whole milk. Obviously, the nearby Spam factory had affected the locals in a bad way.

And so we continued west on I-90, Becky driving while I attempted to watch Columbia play Uruguay on my phone. Without Luis Suarez playing, Uruguay was of course, toothless.

About an hour later, we approached the little town of Blue Earth, which is considered the midway point of Interstate 90 because the east and west construction teams met here in 1978. To commemorate the linking of I-90, Blue Earth constructed a giant statue of the Jolly Green Giant.

Highway finished - Jolly Green Giant constructed - an obvious cause and effect, right?

Anticipating this great symbol of American vegetables, we had all brought a can of Jolly Green Giant vegetables for our expected photo-op. Unfortunately, we arrived at the statue during a downpour and couldn't get the canned veggies out of the back without becoming soaked. So we all ran to the front of Mr. Green Giant and snapped a quick photo in the rain. Ho Ho Ho.

An odd homage to the longest interstate highway in the USA. Ho ho ho.

After our veggie photo-op, we continued west on I-90 passing Adrian, Minnesota and yelled "Yo Adrian!" The landscape of western Minnesota made us think of Michael Landon.

Ubiquitous Wall Drug signs began popping up everywhere as we crossed into South Dakota. The surrounding terrain also became flatter, with few trees. It was almost like we were traveling on a great plain.

An hour into South Dakota, we arrived in Mitchell. The town had special significance to us being named after Alexander Mitchell, that famous banking scion from Milwaukee. Old Alexander founded the Marine Bank of Wisconsin back in the 19th Century - which makes a lot of sense, Wisconsin only being 1,000 miles from the nearest ocean.

Although not nearly as famous as Alexander Mitchell and his Marine Bank, the town also boasts the World's Only Corn Palace. The original corn palace, built in 1892, was used to encourage people to settle in the area by claiming South Dakota had rich soil. However, by 1933, angry farmers attempted to burn down the palace after all of the "rich" soil had blown away in the Dust Bowl. 

Moorish (or for fans of Trivial Pursuit and Sienfeld, Moopish) minarets were added in 1937 and used as watch towers against any angry farmers that approached the palace. By 2004, the Department of Homeland Security was spending money to protect the Corn Palace against any terrorist farmers. Today, the Corn Palace is a sedate icon of South Dakota that is used for high school basketball games and senior proms. 

With such a storied and tumultuous history, a stop at the Corn Palace was a must on our westward trip.

A corny #selfie

Guard booth constructed with funds from the Department of Homeland Security

Tractor used by angry farmers in their assault upon the Corn Palace in 1933

Camouflage used in 2004 by the Department of Homeland Security to protect the Corn Palace from terrorist farmers 

After our visit to the World's Only Corn Palace (which is a good thing . . .), we ate dinner at Corona Village, which is Mitchell's second finest restaurant according to Tripadvisor. The food was bland and insipid. Perhaps this says something about culinary tastes on Great Plains.

After dinner, we drove for another hour arriving at about 10:45 pm at our final destination of the evening, the Super 8 in Chamberlain. Sitting where the Missouri River crosses I-90, Chamberlain is billed as Where the West Begins by Al's Oasis, a local establishment. Unfortunately, the Super 8 did not live up to this majestic slogan.

Although the woman who checked us in was chatty, explaining that she had just moved up from Kansas, worked another job at the hospital, and had never been to Mount Rushmore, but was going to see in this fall - she later told us that we should not walk around our room because the person below us was complaining we were loud. Apparently, the floor at the Super 8 is Super Thin.

And so ended our first day of our westward adventure.