The Horizon is my Home

oh hi.  

1000+ miles, countless Cliff Bars, most of a gallon of milk, and 500 photos later we made it to ye great olde towne of Detroit, the city of brotherly love and rundown buildings.  An update is most certainly due.

It is remarkable how much food two people can fit into the back of a VW Jetta. We genuinely got a late start to our trip because we had to find a way to make all of our assorted snacks fit into such a confined space. Goldfish need room to breathe, man, and we just don't have the space to offer them.

We finally set off, though, for Dan's hometown of Bellefonte, and in his words, "it was just as picturesque" as he remembers.  Our late start cut into his exploration time, but rest assured, there are still obnoxiously steep hills and a most beautiful park at the bottom of high street.  

He vows to return soon, but until then, we bid adieu to Bellefonte, and hit the road again en route to Pittsburgh, closing out a solid 5 hours in the car with a nocturnal view of the city and its 312 bridges.

We met up with Miss Amy Smith, our host and gracious chauffeur in Pittsburgh, and headed out for a night to 'South Side,' a street lined with bars, clubs and saloons. Amy decided to introduce us to Hofbrahous, a enormous German bar complete with an um-pah cover band rocking out in their knee high white socks and suspenders, servers in Lederhosen,  and drunken buffoons singing and dancing on wooden tables slamming bier steins together in a raucous manner. Shot-skys, an old wooden ski fashioned with four shot glasses, were being served in every direction, usually resulting in half a shot falling from every other glass, but uproarious laughter following shortly thereafter.  We obviously had the lady beers, some very delicious Hefewisens, and were pleasantly pleased.  Shortly after our arrival to this party-hous, we were met by none other than Joanne Bertonazzi, who we haven't seen since the early years of college, decades ago, but who by happenstance lives in Pittsburgh these days. A good time was had by all. 

Penguins' open practice the next morning was a chilly wake up event.  Even with our late arrival, we got seats up at the glass.  We could say that it was awesome to see the focus, skill and determination these players have, but instead allow us to comment that about half of the people were rocking a beer, nachos or both at only 9 am screaming and banging on the glass as if it was game seven of the Stanley Cup finals. They take their hockey quite seriously. After several bad "puck" jokes by Dan, everyone decided it was time to leave and get some lunch -  at Chipotle, of course.

When we got home, which took what felt like hours due to the unnecessarily complex combination of highways, construction and bridges, Dan decided it would be a good idea to go for a run. For those of you who have never run in Pittsburgh, you ought to know that the city is filled with hills covered in extra gravity. Needless to say, our run was short and painful, and set us up for a big meal at Primardi's, a favorite of the local "Yinzers."  The night was capped off with some Frownie Brownies, a depressingly delicious Pittsburgh dessert.

Sunday morning, we thanked Amy, almost forgot a vital hat, and left for brunch with Joanne, who showed us her part of town, Shady Side - a hipster's paradise where black and yellow is the new black.  Seeing as it was the Lord's day, she decided to also take us a Church to, you know, grab a beer and watch the Steelers' game.  I know what your thinking, don't they usually only serve the blood of Christ in church? Not here. This large, old church was converted into a bar, with a massive set of beer fermentation casts on the altar, tables replacing pews, and a drunken lady falling off a bar stool.  Back to beautiful Shady Side for the rest of the games, a different drunk lady falling of a skateboard in a bar and a Thai Burrito.  

That night after the Eagles game, we left for an overnight trek to Toronto. Now we aren't saying this was the worst idea ever, but there certainly have been better ideas in human existence, including but not limited to, surfing during a tsunami, wrestling bears, and electing George W  a second time.  We drove through rain, traffic and Canadians and were able to see the city, but only just.  The fog would have made the view from the majestic CN tower pointless, and the rain would have made a walk around the city or some frisbee in the park a little uncomfortable.  So instead we took a brief barefoot stroll through a park, ate some cliff bars, got dirty looks from locals and called it a success.  We left the green thinking city, with its electric trolleys and copious amounts of bikes, marveling at the the fact that there were more buildings under construction than there were completed ones, and headed back through worse rain and traffic back to the states.  It should be noted that as soon as the border was in site, the sun broke through the clouds and cast away the rain in what we can only assume to be a sign from above that one should never be in Canada for more than a few hours.

Total time in Canada: 6 hours.  Time spent driving in Canada: 5.45 hours. Perfect.

So we made it to Detroit, earning ourselves delicious nap. Team roadtrip over and out.

One love.

This post has been brought to you by Yinzers, Sidney Crosby and a pity party of Frownie Brownies, but NOT by Toronto.