haha yeah many people have told us it would be busier in the Summer, don't think we're rushing back as our next America trip is gonna be a little further south but I imagine we may be back some day!
haha dazed, we said many times there must be something better in Detroit than Greektown but frankly after driving up Gratiot the next day we started to believe there actually wasn't, great to hear though!
Onto part 6.
A Policeman A Pimp and a Weirdo Called Jeff, Part 6
Before going to Chicago, we decided that we had to go to Harbor Springs to visit a place we'd seen on the map we'd been given - Tom's Mom's Cookie Shop. It was about 15 miles in the opposite direction, but since we have a friend back home called Tom, who often gets abuse because his mother is allegedely quite hot, we had to go there and take some photos! We got to Harbor Springs and drove around the quaint town until we found the cookie shop. The staff there were visibly confused at our presence. To be fair, we had just arrived and taken several photos of the outside of their shop, then gone inside and ordered two cookies before taking more photos of the inside. I tried to explain to the cashier that we'd come because we have a friend called Tom, but that just seemed to make her more confused. I didn't mention that we were visiting from Ireland. Maybe I just forgot, or maybe the hospitality of the Petoskey folk had led us into a sense of arrogance, thinking everyone around here already knew our tale.
Tom's Mom's Cookies, Harbor Springs
Gareth outside, no doubt being watched by the confused staff!
Once we'd finished there we headed for Chicago. Jono, assuming his role as Navigator again, checked the map and told me we'd need to find the road number 131 then head South on that towards Grand Rapids.
We did exactly that, passing several interesting places on the way - Boyne Falls (where Savanna is originally from), Antrim (which is the name of the county we live in back home) and Cadillac (where there's an intriguing sign advising drivers not to pick up hitchhikers as they may be inmates escaping from the local prison).
It was plain sailing the whole way to Grand Rapids, apart from one impromptu stop after a worryingly loud bang emanated from the back of the truck while we were speeding down the 131 somwhere in the hills between Boyne Falls and Cadillac. We pulled to the side of the road to get out and check that everything was alright – it sounded a lot like a tyre had exploded. We checked each tyre and looked underneath the truck to see if we could spot anything untoward, but everything seemed fine, which was lucky because we were in the absolute middle of nowhere. If we'd broken down here we would have been in trouble. We got back on our way and ignored any future bangs, determining that it was probably just air bursting through a gap in the back window that was causing the noise.
While we were driving we amused ourselves by talking about the events of the night before. We'd met some great people and thouroughly disgraced ourselves. There was no way we'd have been able to stay another day in Petoskey – it was too likely that we'd bump into someone we'd met the night before who we'd embarrassed ourselves in front of. Petoskey had been a wonderful host but it had reached it's threshold for coping with our madness, we'll give it a year or two to rest up and be back for more!
We arrived in Grand Rapids some time later and decided to stop for lunch. The place kind of reminded us of Detroit, but it had a lot more people about and a few less boarded up shop fronts and burnt out houses, although it still seemed a bit run down. It wasn't long before we found an Italian restaurant and tried to park outside, although that didn't go well - I tried to reverse into a parking space outside the restaurant, but misjudging the length of the truck, I accidentally dinged the side of the car in the next space. Oh well, we didn't really want Italian food anyway! We immediately sped out of the area and tried to find somewhere else to eat. (I doubt I did any damage anyway, as there was no paint on the truck bumper when we checked and we weren't moving very quickly at the time since we were trying to park.)
We found a place called Wendy's, which we'd heard of. It's a bit like Burger King, except the burgers are square instead of round and it tastes absolutely terrible. We had a hugely unsatisfying meal there then got back on the road.
It was already dark by this stage and we'd already been travelling for over 4 hours. We weren't even close to Chicago yet. Driving down the 131 I was getting blinded by the headlights of the vehicles driving the other direction and it was exacerbating my already hungover headache. Everyone seems to drive with their full beam headlights on at night in America. It also didn't help that the grime covered windscreen of the truck just became an opaque aurora of dirt and bright light everytime someone's headlights shone onto it. We couldn't continue like this, Chicago was at least another 4 hours away, so we agreed to find somewhere to stop overnight and we'd continue our journey the next day. Jono got to work scouring the map for somewhere to stop, deciding that we'd go to the place with the most hilarious name we could find between Grand Rapids and Chicago – and there were some good ones. “Colon” was an early contender, but he kept looking. “Paw Paw” was a decent one too, as were “Breedsville” and “Kalamazoo.” As we drove he kept looking, then suddenly he shouted,
“Oh, wow! CLIMAX!”
He couldn't stop laughing and I was finding it hard to believe that there was actually a place with such an audacious name. He showed it to me on the map and it appeared to be nicely on our way between our current location and Chicago, only about 15 miles off the main road, very convenient! We were definitely stopping there for the night!
The jokes practically made themselves. “We'll spend a whole night in Climax,” and “We're pretty close to reaching Climax” are a couple of obvious ones. We had no idea how big it would be, or if it would have a hotel for us to stay in, but we were determined to find out. Jono told me the route we needed to take, and when we saw a big sign on the motorway saying “CLIMAX - 1 mile” we started to get pretty excited.
We took the exit and within 20 metres were immediately plunged into complete darkness and country roads. The lights on the truck allowed us to see about 2 car lengths in front of the vehicle, that's all we had. We slowly made our way along the narrow roads, desperately looking for any signs, but found no help. Driving around in what seemed to be circles, we wondered how it could be so difficult to find the place, when it was big enough to warrant its own sign on the motorway, it surely couldn't just be a village with a couple of houses that we were likely to miss. After driving around aimlessly for about half an hour we eventually saw a tiny sign at the end of a T-junction saying “Village of Climax” with an arrow, so we knew we were getting to the right area! A short distance down that road there was a much bigger sign saying “Welcome to Climax” - we'd made it! We drove into the town, which is basically a crossroads with a few houses, some shops and a bar called The Harvester. We weren't sure if it was open but there seemed to be some lights on inside, so we decided to park and try to go in.
To say our entrance to this bar came as a complete shock to everyone inside is a massive understatement. This was clearly a local bar for local people, and they rarely got visitors from outside Climax never mind outside the continent, especially in December. We took a seat at the bar and looked around. The bar itself was L-shaped and there were 5 people sitting at it. On the longer side of the “L” there was an older lady, two to our left, and a middle-aged lady, on our direct left. To our direct right was a large blatantly drunken man, and diagonally across from us at the other side of the bar on the shorter side of the “L” was a married couple. There was also one bartender working, a young Ukrainian girl called Julia who Jono instantly fell in love with. She was the first to speak to us as she offered us a drink.
We ordered a beer for Jono and a soft drink for me, and asked her where we were. “You're in Climax!” she said with a wry smile. This was good news, at least we'd found the right place, even if our map was too inaccurate to have been able to show us the exact route. We explained what we were doing here, as all the other patrons listened in, and asked if there were any hotels nearby. They all thought for a bit, then concluded that there were in fact no hotels within about a 15 mile radius – we'd have to to go Kalamazoo to find the nearest one. Julia set to work drawing a map for us on the back of one of their menus, with a detailed description of the route, while we had a few drinks and chatted with the people around us.
I got into a conversation with the large man on our right.. He was a likeable fellow who regaled us with stories about his time in Europe when he was in the Army. One of his stories was set in Amsterdam. Or was it Copenhagen? Even he didn't seem to know, as he drunkenly told us the same story twice but just changed the location. We also spoke briefly to the middle-aged lady on our direct left. She had dreams of travelling to Ireland with her daughter and staying in a castle, so we told her a bit about Dublin and gave her some advice. In the end she phoned all her children and got them to come to the bar to meet us!
The married couple across the bar from us were called Brian and Sue. They were a laid back couple who had a lot of questions about Ireland and were happy to listen to our stories. Everyone was amazed that we'd flown to Detroit and bought a truck, and now we were in Climax on our way to Chicago, having been all the way up to Petoskey. They'd never heard of such madness in their lives.
Julia had finished drawing the map and she'd also included the address of a bar and the numbers of a few taxi companies. Brian, sensing that Jono was infatuated, suggested that Julia give us her phone number as well, in case we got lost, but unfortunately she wasn't having that. We appreciated the effort though Brian!
The Harvester menu
And on the back, thanks to the help of Julia and others, our map to hotels and bars!
After a quick photo with everyone, and buying a Climax t-shirt from Julia, we said goodbye and left to find a hotel in Kalamazoo using the directions we'd just been given. As we were leaving we watched as the large drunken man stumbled out of the back door of the bar straight into his car and drove off. This was completely unbelievable to us, given how blatantly drunk he was. I suppose drink driving isn't as much of a problem out there as it is back home though, since there's barely anything around to crash into in the middle of nowhere.
It was disappointing not to have been able to spend a full night in Climax; the people there were extremely helpful and entertaining, but we vowed to return some day.
Us and the locals in The Harvester, Climax
The Climax Crescent local newspaper
With Jono as navigator and me driving once again, we found Kalamazoo pretty quickly, thanks to the directions Julia had given us. We pulled into a hotel, the Econo Lodge, and went inside to book a room. As the receptionist was processing our details, she made small talk and asked us what we were doing in Michigan, so we told her the whole story and that we'd just come from Climax as it was the funniest place name we could find. She laughed and said there were a lot of funny place names in Michigan – places like “Christmas,” “Paradise,” and, out to the East, a place called “Hell.”
“Oh yeah, I think we've been there – Detroit?” I said. She didn't get it. We sighed and went to our room.
Econolodge Kalamazoo
It was about 11pm, perfect time to head out into the town and find a bar, we thought. We ordered a taxi and it took us downtown to a place called the Wild Bull, which is a Texas themed saloon with a mechanical bull as the centrepiece – something we'd never seen in a bar before! The place was absolutely packed full of young American college students – apparently we'd stumbled in on their graduation celebrations, great! Drinks were cheap and people were having fun, so we settled in and tried to join in the festivities. Every so often someone would take their chances with the mechanical bull – some with more success than others. Sometimes it would be a drunk guy who had a good technique that was clearly practised over many hours, sometimes it was just a group of over-zealous girls all getting on it together for a laugh, all while the crowds watched and cheered. Overall for us it was a pure spectacle of American enthusiasm!
We just sat and watched, drinking our pints of Guinness and having a loud conversation. We were hoping someone would hear our accents and be intrigued, but that didn't happen. The people in this bar all seemed to be in strict groups, and it seemed nobody was willing to talk to anyone outside of their clique. We walked around trying to mingle, and did briefly speak to a few people, but overall the atmosphere was more angry than friendly. Back home, people tend to go to bars to socialise and have fun, while drinking. Here they seemed to be out solely to get drunk and talk to the people they knew.
As we got more and more tipsy the conversation turned into us discussing whether or not we'd have a go on the bull while we were here. Although I tried to convince him, Jono wasn't up for it in the end, saying he was too “physically inept” for the challenge. His motive was to get me on the bull, despite me being just as physically inept as he is, so that I'd be the one embarrassing myself while he stood and took photos. I couldn't pass up the opportunity, when am I ever going to have a chance to do something like this again? So I filled in the waiver form and jumped on.
The bull has different levels of difficulty, and the operator, sensing that I was a complete novice from the way I clumsily jumped on and the way I was sitting, kept it on the lowest setting for the first couple of minutes. I imagine this setting is the one he most commonly uses for six-year-old girls, nevertheless it was proving quite a challenge for me to stay on, even though I was using the arm-swinging balancing techniques I'd seen the veterans using earlier. As soon as he moved it up to the 8-year-old girl setting I came flying off and landed face first in the foam mattresses. Jono got a few photos and a group of girls in the corner had been laughing and cheering me on, so I'll take that as a success!
Gareth elegantly straddles the bull
And begins to look a little nervy...
And jogs back to his pint with typical American enthusiasm, immediately declaring that it "Wasn't as easy as it looked"
Obviously we went straight from there over to introduce ourselves to the enthusiastic bunch. They were all pretty drunk but at least they were happy to meet us. While we were standing with them at the bar a man who was the spitting image of Denver Broncos quarterback, Tim Tebow, walked in. People were going mad, shaking his hand and getting photos with him in the charateristic Tebow praying position. Girls were flocking around him, and he was milking it. We just looked on, bewildered.
It was nearing closing time and the group we'd been chatting to were heading to a party, but it became apparent that we wouldn't be invited. We'd been talking to the boyfriend of one of the girls, and he'd suggested that we go with them. His girlfriend wasn't so welcoming though when she heard about his plans, and not intending to cause a rift between them we just left to head back to the hotel and get some food.
The only place still open by the time we got to the hotel was a 24-hour McDonald's next door, so we had little choice but to go there for food. When we approached the door we noticed an employee standing outside having a cigarette. Her name was Nicole, and she informed us that only the Drive-Thru was open at this time so we wouldn't get served without a car. We drunkenly tried to persuade her to let us go inside, but despite being clearly charmed by us she was sorry to tell us that she didn't have the authority to allow that. Obviously our only option at that point was to get into our invisible car and “drive” round to the Drive-Thru area! Jono, sensing this would be his only opportunity to drive on the trip, took the invisible wheel and I took the invisible passenger seat. When we got to the hatch, Jono rolled down his invisible window and placed his order. The woman inside looked at us like we were insane and refused to serve us, despite our persistent arguing. She said it wasn't allowed, for her safety as well as ours. We could see how our safety might be in jeapordy by standing in the Drive-Thru lane, a risk we were willing to take. How her safety was affected is still a mystery to us. We realised we were fighting a losing battle with this pedant, so walked back round to the front to wait for someone in a car so we could pay them to get food for us. A willing accomplice drove up within about 30 seconds, and we were smugly eating burgers in plain view of Miss Jobsworth within a matter of minutes. Nicole couldn't withhold her laughter, and she even came back outside to congratulate us on our ingenuity and provide us with napkins and ketchup sachets!
It had been a long day, starting in Petoskey over 200 miles away with crippling hangovers and a desire to get to Chicago. We'd failed to make it all the way, but we'd still managed to have a decent night out in Kalamazoo and we'd met some very nice people in Climax, so it didn't feel like too much of a failure. We had plenty of time here after all, there were no solid plans and there was certainly no rush, our flight home wasn't for another 6 days. We went to bed, planning to make it to Chicago the next day, via Michigan's largest Amish community in Centreville, naturally...
Two Plus Two
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