Three Dudes Take On D.C.: How We Got Here

     The road trip began with Dan driving from St. Paul to pick me up in Hastings. From there, Dan drove well above the speed limit all the way to Oelwein, IA with only three very quick stops. One of those stops was at the Whippy Dip in Decorah, IA. It had become a traditional stop for his family when travelling between his home and our parent's house.
     When he told me WE were going there, I looked forward to it, mainly because the name is so funny. Whippy Dip!
     The Whippy Dip, a Decorah institution, has been dishing up soft-serve since 1954. I ordered a black raspberry sundae which was served in a cheap plastic drinking cup. I liked that little touch of individuality demonstrated by the creative folks at Whippy Dip. Unfortunately, while posing for a photo below the Whippy Dip sign, some of my delightful dessert spilled out onto my shirt and left an embarrassing and unsightly red stain. I had to wear it as a badge of shame the rest of the way to Oelwein.

     We had a great dinner at my folks' house, marred only by the fact that the lasagna had no meat. Because Dan is a vegetable--I mean vegetarian--all of us, including my other brother, Rick, had to go meatless. It was painful because Rick and I are notorious carnivores.
     After dinner, we celebrated my dad's 79th birthday, though it was ten days early. Hereafter, I will refer to my father by his first name, which is Ron. We ate angel food cake with strawberries and Reddy Wip in his honor. No, Reddy Wip is not a spelling error. I've seen the stuff for years and never noticed how ridiculously-spelled it is.
     Then we made plans for our trip eastward in the morning. Ron wanted to leave at about 6:00 a.m. That seemed a little early for Dan and I, so we compromised based on Dan's proposal that we be ready at 7 o'clock, A.I.S. In case you are wondering, that means "Ass In Seat" at 7:00 sharp or you get left behind.

     Sunday morning, Ron was in the hallway a few minutes after 6:00 a.m. yelling "ALL HANDS ON DECK." "ALL HANDS ON DECK." "ALL HANDS ON DECK." I guess he forgot about our agreement to take personal responsibility for having our asses in the seat by 7:00, which, in my case would mean getting up at 6:50.
     I got up at 6:15 anyway, thanks to his Navy call-to-arms, and was downstairs with my pack in five minutes. Dan emerged a few minutes later with his newly-developed, long-distance, bodily waste-containment suit. It consisted of a high-tech plastic outer shell with super-absorbant materials and a charcoal filtration system (for odor abatement) on the inside. Dan said it was modelled after the diaper worn by the female astronaut who was arrested while driving non-stop from Texas to Florida in order to kill her lover's wife. However, he improved on her design and added a few personal touches as well. There would be no need for restroom breaks as far as Dan was concerned.
     We drove south to I-80 and then east. Our first stop was at the Iowa 80 Truck Stop. At first I had my doubts about their claim to being "The World's Largest Truck Stop." All doubts were erased, however, after exploring the grounds. It was truly enormous. It had plenty of gas pumps, a convenience store, gift shop, movie theater, coffee shop, buffet, motel, showers, clothing store, dental office, and much more.
     I can't pinpoint exactly when it happened, but there was an equipment failure involving Dan's personal lavatory costume. He said something about some "leakage," so he removed it and abandoned it. I presume he will make the necessary modifications sometime in the future.
     We drove and drove and drove 650 miles through The Quad Cities, Peoria, Bloomington, Champagne-Urbana, Indianapolis, Dayton, and Columbus to a Best Western motel in Hebron, Ohio. There was plenty of laughing, joking, and sarcasm exchanged among the three of us. Also, there was some controversy. Ron is a believer in his Garmin GPS machine and blindly follows the voice directions of "Minnie" to guide him across the country. Dan and I are believers in maps and highway signage. It would frustrate Ron to no end when I would ignore Minnie's terse, monotoned instructions. (Dan called her "The Bitch.) The final straw for me was when Minnie told me to take Exit 129B to Hebron to get to our motel. Willing to give the bitch a chance, I passed up Exit 129 and prepared to take Exit 129B. There was no Exit 129B. There were no signs for Exit 129B. Exit 129B did not exist. The bitch made it up! To make matters worse, Dan and Ron gave ME crap for having to go three miles to the next exit to get turned around. Coming back west on I-70, Minnie was still insisting I take Exit 129B. It STILL did not exist so I took Exit 129 to the motel.
     Later, we cruised around the Lake Hebron/Buckeye Lake area looking for a place to eat. We ended up at The Pizza Cottage where Ron had a personal-sized pizza and declared it the best pizza he's ever had.

     The highlight of the last day of the road portion of our adventure came early. Approximately eight miles from the West Virginia border, we had to exit I-70 so Ron could take a McPiss. As I recall, the Urban Dictionary defines a McPiss as a stop at a McDonald's Restaurant for the specific purpose of urinating.
     On we went through Wheeling and Morgantown and the very pretty Appalachian Mountain region of southeast Pennsylvania, northern West Virginia, and northern Maryland. We followed some odd directions, provided by Minnie, into Washington D.C. I gloated when I was able to look at a map and prove that the GPS route took us through some backroads unnecessarily. Nevertheless, we made it to the Marriott Hotel by 2:00 p.m.