The End of Something

We have come to the end of our trip. We came full circle, if you will. We're sad to be back, but glad to be home. We had experiences that will be with us forever, and we had other experiences we will soon forget. We drove through the desert, the plains, the mountains, and by the coast. We put miles under our belt. We put kilometres under our belt. We spent Dollars, Euros, Pounds, Dinaras, Kunas, Crowns, and Forints. We got rained on. We got sunned on. We met incredible people. We met total douchebags.

We did things we wanted to do, and missed out on things we wanted to do. We traveled by car, plane, train, ferry, taxi, and bus. We tried to communicate in Greek, Serbian, Hungarian, Czech, German, and Dutch, and failed at all of them. We were regularly shocked by our bank account balance. We got great deals. We got ripped off.

We went places that we'll surely return, and other places we'll actively avoid. We heard the wind through the trees, the crash of the surf, the sound of laughter, the sounds of traffic, and the sounds of crickets. We had great times in the van. We read books. We listened to books on tape. We made fun of Tom. We squeezed every ounce of fun out of every situation.

This will be the last post. We are glad you checked in on us.

We will do this again...

Mayonaise, Rednecks, and Booze; AKA North Idaho

Taylor used to live in a small town called Sandpoint, Idaho, so we stopped by on the way home to see her old crew. We stayed with these sucka fools:



Aaron, the shorter one, works at a bar in town, and we hung out there and drank some booze, even though it was closed. Just us listening to music, playing pool, and talking shit. The other fellow, who some call Josh, is a musician and all around good dude.

Aaron drives/lives in this vehicle. He has a thing for Mayo. He told us that he gave his van a paint job, and when we asked what color (before we saw it), Josh interjected with "I don't know...is embarrassing a color?" haha...witty, that one is.



We went on a cruise of Lake Pend Orielle with Aaron's dad Harv at the helm. Harv is one of Taylor's all time favorite people, just behind Rick Astley, Jeff Goldblum, and me. He's a cool dude with a bunch of cool stories, and totally lives the chill-out life. Think retirement, fishing, sailing, watching baseball, and skiing in the winter. Livin' the North Idaho dream.



Here's a good little chunk of Idaho. This "tervan" has had a misspelled sign for dozens of years. It fell into local folklore, and they decided to just keep it.

Tim and Taylor become one with nature

So Taylor and I, being the city slickers that we are, decided to make a short jaunt to Glacier National Park is Western Montana to see if we could see some cool shit. We totally did. Here is photographic evidence of our finds:

A totally radical deer hanging out right behind our camp spot!



A piss-taking mountain goat!



A big horn sheep, who, for the record, had huge balls!



Taylor "what's with this goat" St. Clair!



We also took a 6-mile hike to get to this glacial lake.




Taylor dared me to jump in, and if I did, she would follow. So I stripped down to my skivvies, and jumped into to a barely above freezing lake. I've never experienced anything so cold in my life. It was only about 75 degrees out, too. Like Lucy pulling the football from beneath Charlie Brown's outstretched leg, Taylor totally punked me. She pussed out and didn't get in. I had to sit there and drip dry. If I catch pneumonia, I'm blaming her. Here's me being really cold. Those white spots in the background are small glaciers that drip ice cold water into the lake. Awesome.

Paul Bunyan wore giant underwear

Every now and then on this trip I get one of those "time of my life" moments. I got a few of those today while driving through the middle of nowhere. It occurred once while Taylor and I were singing terrible songs from the radio at the tops of our lungs while America slowly rolled by, and once while when we pulled off the main road to eat lunch in the dead center of nothing at all.

The latter looked liked this:



Another feeling I get, perhaps more regularly, is one of extreme stuntery. How's about this one? A wicked stunt done at the exact geographical center of North America! It's definitely never been done before. I have proof.



Here's some more roadside junk. Rte. 2 is full of it. This here is Paul Bunyan and Babe the Big Blue Ox, which is located in Bemidji, Minnesota. Apparently the legend originated there, and they take it pretty seriously, what, with their Paul Bunyan Ave. and their Babe the Ox book store. There was also a visitor's center with some Bunyan crap, like his undershorts, a giant rifle, and a wallet the size of a movie poster. Bemidji...keepin' it semi-real since 1836.



Even though I knew we'd be driving straight west for days, I didn't take into account having to stare directly into the sun while it was setting. It was so bad in Montana that I had to stick my head out the window to avoid glare, Ace Ventura style



We couldn't find any campgrounds, but we found a public park in the middle of this little town that allowed camping for free. Score! It was super weird, though, because we were the only people there and it was in the middle of a neighborhood. The place had more flying insects then I'd ever seen, so we had to cinch up pretty tight, as witnessed here:



Totally fun day in the middle of the plain states.

Geez...sure are glad ya stayed wid us in Minnesoda

Taylor and I decided to take US Rte. 2 all the way from its origin in St. Ignace, MI to its terminus in Sandpoint, ID. That's about 2,000 miles of uninterrupted, mostly 2 lane, completely desolate blacktop. It's an incredible way to see and experience real salt-of-the-earth Americana. It's a road filled with "blink and you'll miss 'em" towns, ma and pa restaurants, and hundred-mile stretches of nothing at all.

Here's the only thing we saw all day...Lake Superior. It was lurking to our right for hours, like a sleeping giant of the abyss.




It was too rainy to camp that night, so we stayed at at Super 8 motel, watched a CSI marathon, ate KFC right from the bucket, and drank some Millers. If that's not a midwest night, I don't know what is.

Another border, another problem

So, if you've been reading this blog at all, you know that border guards hate me. As it turns out, it is quite the disadvantage to be "alternative looking" at borders, up to and including my own country's border. More on that later...

Today was way more productive. We got some serious miles under our belt, listened to several discs worth of book on tape, and saw some pretty countryside. Oh yeah, and ate poutine! Poutine is a yummy eastern Canadian specialty. It is actually documented in The Book of Records that poutine is the only thing Canada is good for besides fishing. Who knew?



After hours of Canadian countryside, we got to the US border at Sault. Ste. Marie, in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. As usual, we were "selected for secondary screening," rather than just waved through like 98% the cars. This means that they make you wait inside while they rip apart your car looking for contraband. They found a few old license plates from when the mini had a different registration, and were convinced that I was up to no good. They were being complete cocks, and it made me pretty upset. After a 45 minute delay, they decided I wasn't going to blow anything up, and sent us on our way.

After that hogwashery, we actual found a pretty radical campground run my some nice Yupers (slang for Upper Peninsula folks.) Taylor and I had a golf contest, which I'm pretty sure she won. Her game is really coming around.



Here is our camp spot:



The place was super quite. We watched the sunset alone, had dinner by the campfire, then listened to some audio book in the van. We've been sleeping in the van because it's easier to get going in the morning, not to mention it's been freezing outside at night. Also, the van is inherently better than a tent. No explanation needed.



Back in the USA...again.

Canadians keep stealing our shit!

So only a 45 minutes into our driving day, which started VERY late (2 p.m.), we hit our first snafu. My parents' neighbor in Rhode Island gave me a bunch of firewood, and apparently bringing wood into Canada is a worse offense that murder. So the Canadians made me turn around, go back through the US border, dump the wood on the US side (apparently those pesky bugs are afraid to walk across the border), then come back. It's understandable (invasive species, and all), but it was a hassle that took over an hour. After another 45 minutes of driving, we got stuck in Montreal traffic for over an hour. We only drove another few hours before we decided to call the day a loss, and set up camp somewhere outside of Ottawa.

All was well until a damned Canadian raccoon stole all our our bread products. I hate you, Canada.

The only thing we accomplished all day...finding a camp spot.



Better luck next time.

Every time I go to Vermont, I wake up with the worst hangover ever. Every time. Without fail.

I lived in Vermont for the better part of 7 years, and enjoyed every single one of them. I made some lifelong friends, had some unforgettable experiences, and really learned a lot about myself in those years. Going back is always a good time, and I'm real glad I was able to show Taylor my old stomping grounds. I wanted to stop by my former employer in Waterbury, but time ran short and we were passing there past business hours. Sorry fellas...next time!

Our first stop was in East Calais, VT, where two of my former roommates (now married with children) live. They are in the process of building a farm on some beautiful property after their former house unfortunately burned down. Jaime, who is the Hebrew version of Superman, saved his entire family, and the losses were minor (in perspective, anyhow). You're the man, Weendog.

Check out this Motley Crew:



After playing with chickens, goats, children, pigs, and dogs, we headed north to Burlington to see the old gang. We were invited to attend Vermont Family Dinner, which Portland Family Dinner was actually modeled after. Excellent times.

More Vermonters!



Chip is a radical dude. We got to hang out a bit during my brief visit to Burlington. He is one of those dudes who you don't have to talk to every week (or month, or quarter year) but when you see each other again, it's like nothing has really changed.



Will is another one of those dudes. Interesting facts about Will. 1.) He has had the same haircut forever. 2.) He was wearing the same shirt as when I met him 9 years ago. Now that's timeless style.



Awesome times with awesome people. I drank too much the night before, and woke up feeling like a bag of pretzels. Luckily, I recovered quickly. After attending to some business, Taylor and I were headed deep into enemy territory...CANADA!

Little Rhody, Big Fun

While it was a huge bummer to say goodbye to Europe, it was nice to get back to the US of A to see friends and family and prepare for The Great American Road Trip, V2: The Great White North. As it turns out though, Taylor and I don't really prepare for anything, so we just threw a bunch of crap in the mini and we were good to go. Let me take this opportunity to say how awesome my mini van is. I bought it for 3,800 bucks more than 3 years ago, and is now preparing for it's 4th cross country trip. Every time I meet someone, they ask me why I drive a mini van. My answer in short: Because it is better than anything your drive. Boosh!

Ok...back to Rhode Island based content. Ma Breault picked us up from the train station after a hellish trip from NYC. We flew there because it was cheaper, but after all the Metros, buses, and trains to Providence, it didn't quite work out that way. Oh well, next time. After sharing hugs, telling stories, and drinking a few beers, we had our first sleep in a familiar bed in six weeks. It felt very nice. After resting up, the following commenced:

Let's start these photos off on the right foot. Check out this gem: A double Breault, double stunt! Unprecedented! That there is my brother Justin, and he's not afraid of a super-sized dose of Vitamin Extreme, either. For the record, my Mom gets just as mad when we do this at age 28 and 30 as she did when we were 9 and 11.



We also ate all sorts of Rhode Island food, up to and including:

This cigarette smoking lobster



Chowder and Clam cakes



Wieners!

(Photo lost in archives)

...and good ol' fashioned Rhode Island cookout food



Another distinctly Rhode Island treat...Waterfire! They make suspended fires above the Blackstone River all throughout Downtown. It's a real nice free evening. Lots of people still come out, which was cool to see.


Taylor got to play with some kittens, too!



I also got to see some friends (Tom included), play some golf, and spend some quality time with the family. Until next time, Rhode Island! It's time to get our road trip on!

Things I saw Germans open beer bottles with:

1. Spatula
2. Human Mouth
3. Lighter
4. Spoon
5. Cell Phone
6. AAA Battery
7. Another Beer Bottle (empty and full)
8. Paper Plate
9. Beer Mat
10. Wall
11. Fork
12. Beer Bottle Cap

People from the west of Germany know how to pound beers. Biiiiig time. They also like to eat sausage, watch football, and talk about eating sausage and watching football. We stayed at my friend Christoph's apartment in Aachen, even though he had already moved out. It was a pretty good deal. It was great to see some friends I haven't seen in a while...like these guys here!



...and make some new ones, like this giant specimen yonder:



Christoph's family is awesome. His dad and I can have long conversations even though he doesn't speak a word of English. He may have kicked my ass at arm wrestling.



How many people have you known that have done this? My body is in Germany and my gut is in Belgium. I just had a full load of Belgian Fries (the French lie!) and I was a bit full. Wicked awesome.



We took a day trip to Amsterdam, and we were absolutely blown away by the bike culture. We were expecting a ton of bikes, but it was ridiculous! Check out the picture...there are at least 5,000 bicycles in the background. Every single structure has at least 2 dozen bikes locked to it. They have multi-level parking garages for bikes. You get the idea. I thought Portland was bike-friendly...but we've got a loooooooooooooooooooooooooong way to go. (ed. note: Amsterdam is completely flat, so that helps.)



Ok...more stuff:

We hung out at a football hooligan clubhouse!



Did ballet inspired stunts!



...and had a blast during the last few days of our trip. Thanks so much Stout and family. We had a great time. We're bummed out to be leaving Europe, but our time has come.

Next Stop, U S of A!

Ich Bein Ein Jelly Donut

...so the story goes that Kennedy's famous Berlin speech which he stated "Ich bein ein Berliner" actually translates to "I am a jelly donut." Oops. Still a historical speech, nonetheless.

Moving on. As it turns out, Berlin is completely radical, and very, very similar to Portland. Think bicycles, tattoos, bars, and lots of alternative culture. We have come to the conclusion that we would totally live in Berlin. Small language barrier, but I have been considering taking German classes at PCC, so one day, who knows?

Before I get into the details of our brief Berlin stay, I'd like to take this opportunity to endorse my new favorite bar in the entire planet, which is called Halford's Rock Cafe. It is a bar completely dedicated to Judas Priest, and to a lesser extent, all 80's metal. My favorite part about it is the complete lack of irony. The people who hang out here actually love metal, wear leather, and are complete and total dudes. In fact, in stark contrast to Portland, many things in Berlin lacked the pretension and irony that they would in PDX. For example, EVERYBODY rides bicycles, but they are completely practical and not at all nice or cool (hypocrite alert: I ride a fixed gear). As long as they have two wheels that more or less roll, it's game on. This is also true for messengers, who mostly rode mountain bikes. I talked to a bike shop employee who said track bikes are becoming a bit more popular in Berlin, but he expects it to be a fad.

Ph-ph-ph-photo time!

Check out how fucking cool this bar is! My impression of the internal monologue of the bar owner:

"hmmm...I'm running out of money for decorating my bar, but I really think we could use a 10 foot tall bust of Rob Halford out front. What to do, what to do...aww fuck it. It's only $7,000 more."



The public transit in Berlin was a bit expensive, and since the city has a remarkably good bicycle infrastructure, Taylor and I rented some bikes and rode all around the city. Here are our whips:



This bike was lacking a skid-o-meter, but I'm pretty sure I logged about 17 km of skids that day (stolen joke alert!)



We headed to some historical sites, including the Jewish Holocaust Victims' Monument. The top has over 2,000 concrete blocks of various different sizes (side note: Apparently the number of arrangement of the blocks has no symbolic significance.) Below ground is a free museum that occupies the space of Joseph Goebels' former WWII bunker. I would call that irony.



They had what they called "The Room of Letters," which was a room filled with original letters sent from doomed prisoners to their families. Most of them where thrown out of train windows or found around their person after they were killed. Amazingly, most of the ones found in this room were actually delivered to whom they were addressed. Read this:



The Brandenburger Tor was right by the memorial. This was the main gate that separated East Berlin from West Berlin when Germany was divided.



This is the last remaining portion of the Berlin Wall which was preserved for historical purposes. It is used as an art gallery now. Seeing one of the world's most recognizable symbols of oppression used as a showcase for art was a very poignant moment for Taylor and I.



Our stay in Berlin was far too short, but we had friends waiting for us on the other side of Germany. We will be back! Next stop, Aachen!