A note concerning tangents: (XII)

Current Location: Moab, UT (pop~5,100)

(N38°33.906’, W109°33.023’, elev: 4056 feet)

Distance traveled this leg: 93.9, and that was just driving around Arches and back and forth to town.

Distance hiked in Arches National Park: Edison (~9 miles), Nickness & Hannibal (~13.5)

Total Distance traveled: 4052.9 miles

Expedition Outlook: Dehydrated

Number of Shooting Stars Seen Over the Utah Desert: 8

Vista seen from Partition Arch.

Hello again from Moab, fair readers. Arches National Park was phenomenal. In an apples and oranges sort of fashion it was just as good as the House on the Rock, which, as you may recall, has been the expedition’s current high point.

The entrance to Devils' Garden.

We managed to rouse ourselves at an hour that while not early for most people was early for us. In standard expedition fashion, there was much back slapping, egregious praise, and even a couple of medals and awards were issued. By time we were finished of course, we had used up a bunch of time, so we made haste to the park.

After a brief pow-wow session with a ranger, we had an agenda: Devil’s Garden (and its multitude of arches), the Windows and associated attractions, and finally Wolfe’s Ranch and the Delicate Arch.

Devil’s Garden is a roughly 7 mile trail loop (not including the hike out to the Dark Angel, which we omitted, or any of the other trail branches that we did take). We naturally assumed that we could handle a 7 mile hike on uneven terrain, complete with scrambling and climbing, all under the eye of Edison’s bitter foe, Apollo. This is an important thing to remember for later. We attacked the trail with our usual vim and vigor: With me boldly forging along ahead to provide the best first impression about the excursion team and to talk to any locals that may need talking to; Edison padding around, alert for all of those things that are important for a successful excursion to be aware of, such as: excellent photography vantages, trail heads, Batlabian desert skirmishers, hornets, suit cases full of money, pretty girls, hobos, and furious wildlife; Hannibal rides in the excursion pack and largely acts adorable until he can get within paw’s reach of an unsuspecting lady, at which point he acts lecherous and grabby.

Landscape Arch

The terrain, though uneven and a little treacherous, was trod beneath our might feet as we began our conquest of arches and other vistas. Something you should know about Devil’s Garden, the first few sites, Pine Tree Arch, Landscape Arch, Tunnel Arch , are all located on the ‘easy trail.’ To see the rest (Double O, Navajo Arch, Partition Arch, Private Arch, and if you’re interested, Dark Angel) visitors must assay the more strenuous Primitive Trail. Perhaps one of the excursion team’s greatest weaknesses is that it is entirely male (with the exception of Tachikoma, who doesn’t offer much on her own volition one way or another), so we lack a certain balanced perspective when it comes to decision making. In this case, we stuck with our original plan of doing the whole loop. 

The top half of Double O. 

The Primitive Trail was totally worth it; we saw a lot of interesting things and went a lot of interesting places, including some smaller arches that did not appear on the map. We also discovered that the sun is our enemy (more Edison’s than mine) and that while two liters of water, per person, is adequate, three liters would have been a lot better. Though we successfully completed the hike without becoming buzzard chow, Apollo dealt Edison a crushing blow, knocking him out of commission for the rest of the day. Hannibal and I weathered the trail much better, and after refueling, rehydrating, and returning Edison to our lodging, we returned to the park. Our unexpected time in town removed the possibility of hitting both of the remaining stops on our agenda, so we elected to head out to Wolfe Ranch and the Delicate Arch.

Delicate Arch at sunset.

It was well worth the trip, although there were definitely some moments where we were regretting our choice, in particular when we learned that the entire hike to the arch is uphill. None the less, frequent rest stops, an auspicious bag of carrots, and most importantly sheer stubbornness won the day and we finally gained the pinnacle and Delicate Arch. We even made good enough time that we could explore the region around the arch before watching the sunset over the canyons. Once Apollo smugly retired for the evening, the team made its way back to Corona. On a whim, we detoured onto the top of a bluff to watch the sky (there were some thunderheads in the distance and an occasional lighting flash, although nothing really came of it). There is very little light to bleed into the sky that deep into the park, and the sky overhead was clear enough to allow the Milky Way to be seen, as well as a number of shooting stars and an object I’m assuming was a satellite but could very well have been aliens. I was even able to pick out some constellations and other phenomena thanks to our trip to the Adler in Chicago. If you’re still reading this, thank you again Pat, for giving me the lay of the land above the horizon. After an hour or so of gazing, we finally packed it in and headed back to base.

Landscape near Delicate Arch.

While I cannot speak for other expedition members, I can certainly relate my thoughts and feelings about this place. First off, if you’re a fan of national parks and hiking, and if you are able, go there. You might even want to consider going even if these things don’t typically interest you. The land has a very primal feel. Everything is huge and shaped by forces more complex and vast than anything man has likely conceived of. It’s places like these that give me a perspective on just how fascinating and wonderful a world we live in. There was a moment, when were resting in the shade under Private Arch and staring at these magnificent canyon walls, when I realized that there was utter silence around us. No plants to rustle, no wind to rustle them, no bugs, or animals, or birds, no people, no sounds of civilization, there was nothing but the sound of my own pulse in my ears and the breath in my lungs. It is the only time I can remember ever being anywhere in absolute silence. It was awesome, and the truest sense of the word, which is to say “inspiring awe.” Later in the day, at Delicate Arch, I climbed up a rocky column, and perched there, a good 600 feet above the plateau where Corona was distantly parked (which itself is over 5000 feet above sea level), and I could see for miles. And the only thing I could see was desert and scrub and canyons and rocky spires and this magnificent, improbable arch of sandstone. I was so high up that I could see both ends of a rainbow whose feet easily straddled an expanse of land whose width would need to be measured in miles. Everything was so stunning and it filled me with a sense of wonder and vigor and vibrancy and just plain ‘ol good feeling. For a few brief moments it was as if the world was a perfect place, with everything in alignment, and despite being a mile above sea level, head in the clouds as it were, I felt a deep connection to the bones of bedrock below me. Maybe that’s what the Hindu and Buddhist practitioners mean when they speak of Nirvana. I wish there was a way where I could give even a glimmer of that feeling to you, treasured readers, but this broadcast is a poor medium for such a thing, even if such a concept wasn’t so heavily subjective in the first place. In a way, this whole trip has been like that, as far as giving me a far different perspective and context with which to view life and the living of it, but not in such a mind blowing way as I experienced today.

Hannibal being coy. 

OK. I’m done babbling now. Thank you for bearing with me. Edison will be taking a hiatus from the broadcast this evening, so that he might better work on recovering. Tomorrow will bring us towards Colorado and Nebraska (somehow we ended up missing Wyoming. I think it’s because, ready for this folks, we went through Idaho). I’m going to strive to be up and put together enough to see some more stuff in Arches before we go, while Edison sleeps in. Cross your fingers for me, readers, because I very much want to experience as much of the park as I can before we depart. And on that note, I need a shower and then some sleep. Thank you, America, and good night. This is the Nickness, signing off:

The last arch of the day was one made of clouds. 

Thank you for tuning in! On our next episode: Arches Redux; How Many Mountains Before You Can No Longer Shake A Stick At Them?; Edison: Now A Zombie?; Beginning The Return Journey East

A note concerning tangents: (XI)

Current Location: Moab, UT (pop~5,100)

(N38°33.906’, W109°33.023’, elev: 4056 feet)

Distance traveled this leg: 660.9 miles (Booyah!)

Total Distance traveled: 3959.0 miles

Expedition Outlook: Which way to the Thunderdome?

Worst State in the Union: Neck and neck between Idaho and Connecticut

Providence has shone upon the expedition, glorious readers! Eloise rejoined us this morning having recovered from her case of the vapors. In the spirit of good cheer she promptly tried to navigate us into a hazard. It’s good to have you back, Eloise.

Three layers of terrain here. A sampler platter
of geography if you will.

Not a lot to report on the day’s activities. We successfully implemented our 600 mile blitz to Moab and the only thing we hit was a juvenile tumbleweed in Utah. We headed southeast out of Bozeman and Montana earned its title as the most gorgeous state we’ve traveled through with both authority and flair. Lush mountain passes, picturesque rivers, shimmering verdant valleys; these things were all common sights along the way. We were in considerably high spirits by time we hit Idaho.

It would be misleading to say that Idaho rained on our parade. Urinated on our parade would be a much more appropriate metaphor, but only if you added “and then set rabid, flaming bears to maul it.” We spent close to a half hour parked on the highway whilst the Idahoboan DPW conducted some sort arcane procedure whose purpose and effect was completely unknowable to those without sufficient brain damage to understand it. Our journey continued to be plagued by traffic as well as the highest fuel prices on our trip by at least a 20 cent margin. One might think that being so close to Montana the terrain would at least be wonderful. One would be thinking incorrectly. If one hadn’t been to Montana first, one might think the land around Idaho lovely, but having just come from Montana, we realized it to be a poor copy. More dwellings, more scrub, less majesty; even the roads were in poorer condition. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the gods had another go at Edison just before we managed to escape. They pulled another storm out of their celestial arses and battered us again with wind and rain. Perhaps they were attempting to mire us in Idaho, but who am I to try and divine the ineffable plans of insane deities? Irregardless of their agenda, Corona saw us safely through their tantrum and into the much more pleasant territory of Utah.

For the sake of completeness, here's some Idaho.

I’m willing to admit that I am basing my judgments on a very narrow window of experience and that that might not be fair to Idaho. Well it wasn’t fair of Idaho to pee on our parade and attack it with bears, either, so here’s a British workman’s salute for you, Idaho. In all honesty, things did improve the closer to Utah we got, and once the land began to take on its own unique character we even took some pictures of it. Ultimately though, Idaho will simply go down as “that irritating corridor between Montana and Utah.” at least for the purposes of this expedition, anyway. Perhaps a future trip will give Idaho a chance to redeem itself.

One of the more striking passes we went through in UT.

Utah was a pleasant antipode to Montana. Both states possessed sprawling plains, winding canyons, precarious passes, and looming mountains. However, where Montana was lush, Utah was more arid; where Montana was greens and browns, Utah was rusts and tans; where Montana had ranches, Utah had vast empty stretches. It was gorgeous in its own way and served to brighten our spirits back up. We missed out on the Salt Desert, as our course took us to the east of its environs. We did drive through Salt Lake City, though. Where a lot of eastern cities are tall, SLC was sprawling, much like other western cities such as LA. The highway travel throughout the city limits was typical of such travel anywhere else in the country. Once we got away and back into the mountains things became far more engaging. Soon after that night fell and blocked the land from our sight.

All in all it was a long trip, but very manageable. That we successfully negotiated it gives us confidence that if we need to execute further long hauls to get back on time we will be able to do so with panache and flair. Speaking of panache and flair, here’s Edison:

[Notes from Edison:

Was that a compliment? I think something must be wrong. Drink more water, you’re probably dehydrated.

Yeah, Idaho=Fail state. ‘Nuff said.

I have to say, not many people would be able to take this trip and not chew each others’ limbs off (like a harlequin shrimp) or their own (like a nervous squid) by the end. We can. Despite the steady picking ons, we are still in good cheer. Go Metal Clan.

Hannibal, too, is in good cheer. Perhaps his near-constant philandering and general foolings-about are his outlet for stress? Seems like a good system to me, at least.

Not much to say about today except that we won, it’s over, and we are much looking forward to tomorrow. Arches should be grand. We’re hoping the storm gods were left far enough behind that they won’t (literally) rain on our parade, but if they do we are probably dumb enough to head out anyway. We’re planning on a mix of hiking and driving, we’ll see how it works out.

As the wise man said; “Believe it or not I'm walking on air, I never thought I could feel so free, flying away on a wing and a prayer, who could it be? Believe it or not it's just me.” (Still have to watch that show again…)

That’s us, living the dream. Love and Peace, folks! Take care of each other out there.]

Yes folks this is in fact Hannibal. I know it's hard to tell
when he's not womanizing or being destructive.

A wonderful example of the opposite of panache and flair. Thank you once again, Edison, for your uncanny ability to provide a contrasting viewpoint to enhance understanding and provide a context. What is it they say? Without the darkness you'll never appreciate the light? Every zenith needs a nadir, and this expedition treasures you for your superlative ability to fill that role. (Hannibal just high fived me) 

We have an unprecedented situation here, folks. We'll be spending two nights in Moab as we plan on enjoying Arches National Park until at least sundown tomorrow. We are striving with all of our might to capitalize on an early start. We may even get it right for once. Until next time, thank you, America, and good night. This is the Nickness, signing off:

Had to hang out of Corona's sunroof to get this shot.

Thank you for tuning in! On our next episode: Mornings Done The Metal Clan Way; Bring Some Extra Feet; Have Parasol, Will Travel; No More Idaho!

A note concerning tangents: (X)

Current Location: Bozeman, MT (pop. ~27,500)

(N45°41.32’, W111°2.49’)

Distance Traveled on Leg 10: 341.8 miles

Total Distance Traveled: 3298.1

Expedition Outlook: Pleasantly Full

State with the tastiest overall cuisine thus far: Montana

We often felt as if we were about to drive into the sky.

Good news, concerned readers: We awoke in Terry with all of our internal organs still on the inside! (I guess you might already have known that since I sent a broadcast from Terry this morning when I awoke, but I didn’t think to say this then) We hit the road pretty quickly, stopped briefly in Miles City to get some food (super awesome barbecue, in case you were curious) and re-supply, then it was back to the road and the haul out to Bozeman. Having now had the opportunity to see Montana with the sun up, I can definitively say it is gorgeous country. North Dakota has more horizon and seemingly more farms, but Montana has a definite lead in the rugged department as well as seeming to trump ND on ranches. Most interesting though, is how the terrain changes as you go further west. Eastern Montana is flatter and has more of the badlands feel of western ND. As you go further west, things get more lush, trees become more abundant, grasses greener, etc. In addition, the hills get all sorts of riled up and start lunging about all over the place, and then you get some mountains. Real mountains, mind you, not that lightweight stuff they call mountains out in New England.

After being told he wasn't allowed to climb, Hannibal
promptly informed us that the rules don't apply to bears
and jumped all over Pompey's Pillar. 

Hannibal was causing trouble amongst the Crew Bears and that necessitated a quick pullover so I could break up a fight between Blitz and Batman. Once that business was taken care of (including fishing Hannibal out of the cooler where he was stashed in an effort to get him to simmer down), the expedition voted to take an on foot excursion and explore nearby Pompey’s Pillar. “But isn’t Pompeii both misspelled and in Italy?” you might ask. Well we wondered that too. We discovered that the one in Montana has nothing to do with volcanoes and everything to do with graffiti. Lewis, of Lewis and Clark fame, hacked his name into a sandstone bluff during his eponymous expedition to chart the Missouri river. According to the visitor’s center, this mark is apparently the only physical indicator still extant that marks a site where Lewis and Clark actually passed through. This particular bluff must have been good for this sort of thing, because before Lewis got there, the Crow people had been scrawling all over it for decades, and after Lewis other folks got in the action. We saw some scrawls dating as far back at the 1820’s (Lewis tagged it in 1806). If we haven’t totally lost you to boredom yet, then I imagine you might wonder why it’s called Pompey’s Pillar. Lewis named it after Sacajawea’s son, whom he was quite fond of. Curiously enough, Sacajawea’s son was named Jean Baptiste Charbonneau and not Pompey. The visitor’s center wasn’t super clear on where the Pompey part came from beyond indicating that that’s what Lewis liked to call Jean Baptiste. With all of our questions as answered as they were going to get, we piled back into Corona and carried on to Bozeman.

Yes, folks, this basically came out of nowhere. 

In a bold move Edison went sleeveless today and the gods responded to his taunt by ratcheting the sun up when we disembarked at Pompey’s Pillar. When that failed to boil him in his tracks, and with us having escaped Apollo’s fury by hiding within Corona, Zeus decided to try and kill us with another storm once we got to the Crazy Mountains (I’m totally not making those up). By time we noticed the smudge on the horizon it was too late, and soon poor Corona was rainlashed and shuddering in the gale force winds meant to punish Edison’s impertinence.  It would appear that Bozeman was some sort of cosomolgical and meteorological home base, because no sooner did we cross the town limits than the storm backed down. By sunset the skies were clear as if it had never happened. I fear the gods will not be so easily foiled, so I’ll be having exit all buildings first for the next few days, because there is no way I’m taking a bolt of lightning meant for him.

Bozeman was recommended to the expedition by a co-worker of mine, Chris, and I’d like to thank him at this point for pointing it out, it’s a great town. I’d also like to thank his brother Steve, who is a resident, for telling us where the hot spots were in town. Though most of the shops had closed by time we got there, the eateries were still going in full swing, and based on Steve’s advice we hit up the Ale Works for a very tasty dinner. We unfortunately had to forgo dallying with the town’s night life, as we have a very ambitious course charted for tomorrow: We plan on doing the 600 plus mile drive to Arches National Park in Utah in a single day. It will be our longest and truest sprint to date. We’ll be cutting through Idaho and most of Utah to get there.

On the subject of the expedition status, I have both good and bad news to report. Best to start with the bad: We may have lost Eloise today. She’s been having problems keeping a charge and seemed to only operate reliably under constant power siphoned from Corona. In Miles City, she stopped operating even while plugged in. It is unlikely she will rejoin us before the expedition has been completed. Further attempts will be made on the morrow to resuscitate her things are not looking good. Tachikoma will have to step up and cover navigational duties for the remainder of the expedition if Eloise is truly lost.

He never was any good at hiding those smug expressions. 

On the brighter side of things, people actually talked to Edison today when I was not present and Hannibal was otherwise incapacitated (read: drunk). As if that wasn’t surprising enough, he actually engaged them in conversation back. There is hope yet that he’ll be able to defeat his critical case of misanthropy. Now if only we could do something about his hair…

It was not only a good day for Edison, but for Hannibal as well. After two days of failure, he finally managed to finally exert his charm once again. We're hoping this will get him to settle down a bit, or at the very least stop messing around with the Crew Bears. At this point the expedition would like to thank Tana and Jamie for putting up with our ridiculousness and humoring Hannibal. You are both delightful and we’re glad to have made you a part of our adventure.

He really is incorrigible.

In a strange coincidence, Edison has similar sentiments he would like to express, so without further adieu:

[Notes from Edison: Let me take time to say hi to all of the people who have joined us to read this blog about our adventures, especially those who we have sufficiently interested during the trip by our Hannibal-related activities that you are now reading our story despite knowing pretty much nothing about us. Here’s a little bit to fill you in on some or all of our pasts.

Two of us are Humans.

Three of us are capable of moving ourselves under the right conditions.

One of us has met and shaken the hand of Trace Adkins.

One of us graduated from college with a degree in English.

One of us took the classes to become a police officer, but never went on to join a precinct.

Several of us are almost universally recognized (by women) as total cuties.

One of us is the production manager for a school’s theater program.

One of us works as a lighting technician on movies and tv shows.

All of us have lived in Massachusetts for many years.

Some of us have lived in California, New Jersey, New York, and Maine as well.

One of us had his heart installed by a friend of ours.

Some of us are in love, by one definition or another.

One of us drinks very rarely, two of us drink like fish.

We are variously Portugese, Saxon, Armenian, German, Japanese, American, and Teddy Bear.

One of us has an incurable (but not fatal) disease.

One of us has issues with rust. (but don’t tell anyone.)

Most of us really do not care what people think of us.

(and finally) All of us are happy that people are interested in our trip. We’re having a great time!

“I don't bother chasing mice around,
I slink down the alley looking for a fight;
howlin' to the moonlight on a hot summer night.
Singin' the blues while the lady cats cry,
wild stray cat you're a rebel gone guy.
I wish I could be as carefree and wild, but I got cat class and I got cat style.”

On a more somber note than I normally take in here: Some friends of mine are having a really tough time right now. One of our most awesome is in the hospital and one is no longer around. If you have any spare good thoughts, please send them on to them and to the people who are trying to help. Love and Peace, folks. Be good to each other out there.]

As is always the unfortunate case, the morning hour grows rapidly nearer and we have a big day ahead of us. We have reached the zenith of our westward travel, no longer into the setting sun shall our travels take us, but rather to the south... like the wintering birds… (hmmm, I suppose that will have to do). Yes, much like the birds seeking warming climes and a vibrant escape from the winter’s cold grasp, we too will travel ever southward, seeking adventure and liveliness. Thank you, America, and good night. This is the Nickness, signing off:

Thank you for tuning in! On our next episode: One Day, Three States; Did Somebody Mention Potatoes?; NaCl H2O City; Have They Finally Learned To Defeat The Morning?

A note concerning tangents: (IX)

Current Location: Terry, MT (pop.~600)
(N46°47.556', W105°18.714', elev: 2267 feet)
Distance traveled on leg 9: 508.4 miles
Total Distance Traveled: 2,956.3 miles
Expedition Outlook: Bamboozled.
Number of Photos Taken Thus Far: 919

Alas, patient readers, it would seem our wild lifestyle has finally caught up to us. No sooner did we get to our lodging then we were unconscious like a pair of poleaxed hippos. I would like to think it's because we were tired, but based on the demeanor of this place, it would not come as a surprise to learn that knockout gas was pumped into our room so that despicable things could be done to our vulnerable, unconscious bodies. Everything seems in order, so I'm going to go with the former, if for no other reason than to protect what shreds of sanity I still possess.

Dragons are good for keeping away evil spirits...
And the old gods you have just forsaken.

In the AM we returned to Moorhead, MN to visit the Hjemkost Center, a site devoted to maintaining the ties and roots of Scandinavian heritage in the region. The facility focuses around a replica Stave Church (a type of wooden church built by the vikings after their conversion to Catholicism) and the Hjemkost, a 75 foot Viking longship built by native Minnesotan Robert Asp in the 80's and sailed by his children across the Atlantic to Norway and back. The Hjemkost was built as a working replica of a preserved vessel found within a burial mound in Norway. Both the church and the ship were amazing pieces of craftsmanship, and the fact the Hjemkost was not only seaworthy, but capable of making a transatlantic voyage was nothing short of inspiring.

There was a lot of this.

After leaving Moorhead we drove across the entire width of North Dakota. Whatever money they saved on not buying hills they spent on purchasing excess amounts of sky. The landscape was picturesque and we could see for miles in every direction. We made a few stops along the way: Bismark to refuel, and New Salem and Regent to collect photographic evidence of big people. Of note is Sue, the 25' holstein cow perched atop the only hill in miles. We discovered sue as we were driving west on 94 and I turned to Edison and asked "Is that a giant Ox on top of the hill or just a building or a sign?" We were about 2 miles away at this point.

Ladies and gentlemen: Sue.

We quickly determined that it was in fact a cow and immediately altered our course to go visit her. Beyond Sue we discovered the so called Enchanted Highway, a stretch of road running perpendicular to 94 whose sole purpose appears to be farm access and a means of getting to Regent. Built along the course of this road are absurdly tall metal sculptures including grasshoppers as diners and a massive Teddy Roosevelt riding horseback. It would appear that building large statues of a ridiculous nature is a something of a North Dakotan pastime. 

Our last sight in ND before losing daylight entirely and crossing into MT were the Painted Canyons of the Badlands. Regrettably, the sun had already dipped below the horizon and the canyons themselves were muted. The land itself was pretty breathtaking, even if we did miss out on the color portion of the festivities. 

We pushed on through to the relative metropolis of Glendive, MT where we were rebuked from our lodging of choice and referred to another hotel 40 miles away in Terry. The inn in Glendive was a nice, pleasant looking modern facility. The place we were referred to was not in fact an affiliate. It is likely a registered historic structure. It is the expedition's belief that we have been had by the young ladies at the hotel in Glendive. No matter, we are at least 40 miles further along. 

Edison, anything to add?

[Notes from Edison: Zzzzzzzzzz]

No big surprise there, folks. In fact, I too fell asleep in the midst of drafting this broadcast and am just now finishing it on the morning after. It is time once again to commune with the road. Thank you for your patience, America, and have a good day. This is the Nickness, signing off:

A fitting icon to the spirit of journey, we feel.

Thanks for tuning in! On our next episode: Big Sky, Big Fun?; Punctuality, Can We Find It?; Will Hannibal Finally Beat His Dry Spell?; In Search Of Local Delicacies

A note concerning tangents: (VIII)

Current Location: Fargo, ND (pop-95,600)
(N46°52.757', W096°47.017', elev: 822 feet)
Total distance traveled during Leg 8: 352.7 miles
Total distance traveled: 2447.9 miles
Expedition Outlook: Destiny Manifest
Number of times we have entered a state for the first time to immediately discover that its major roads are not only under construction, but under construction in such a way that it actively proves to be a hinderance: 6
*Bonus Statistic*: Number of States we have entered for the first time: 7(not including NY or PA which we have been to many times, nor taking into account states Edison visited with his family when he was a small child back in the late Cretaceous)

Well, I suppose these sorts of things will be inevitable, but today was largely a day spent in transit. "But if you spent the day driving, why did you travel less than on the day where you had a five hour awesome town excursion at the House on the Rock?" is what I'm certain you're asking. Well, inquisitive readers, I have an answer for you: Because we still don't have the hang of mornings. In principle we understand that the sun will rise and then so should we a few hours after that, but in practice I wage war against three separate alarm clocks and by time I finally lose, I have just enough time to trick Edison into waking up so we can quit ourselves of the building by check out time. With time, I think, we'll get the hang of it.

What do you suppose they sell?

Once on the move we briefly explored what Ashland's main street had to offer. We broke our fast at a local cafe (And they actually knew how to cook an omelette so that it wasn't a watery mess. I wish they offered a correspondence course that some of the short order cooks in the Valley could subscribe to.) as well as took care of some basic errands. On the way we discovered Ashland's one stop vice shop(not the shop in the above photo): A disarming, flip flops and knick-knacks style tourist trap mien loomed at us from the storefront. Poking our heads in we discovered the usual kitschy t-shirts and hemp bracelets and incense and glass bric-a-brac that you would expect to find in such a place. Vaguely screened by a beaded curtain was the other two thirds of the store: head-shop and sex store. A bit disorienting, but the proprietors were very friendly.

Great Lakes Achievement: Complete!

On the outskirts of town we found Maslowski Beach and touched the waters of the fifth and final Great Lake, Lake Superior. I provided appropriate musical accompaniment and we did the level up dance on its shores. Our celebration would have been premature if not for the watchful eyes of Corona and Hannibal. As it turns out, the Batlabians were waiting for us at Superior and were prepared to unleash an ambush. While they may have anticipated our path, they did not account for either Hannibal's kung-fu or Corona's crushing wheels, and fell victim. I believe Edison and I were blissfully searching for interesting driftwood at the time. None the wiser (It wasn't until Akeley that Hannibal had revealed what had occurred), we departed Superior and set our course for MN.

That second floor is a lounge.

Our first stop was a gas station designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. We figured if we couldn't see his mansion, we could see a service station he designed. Practically the same thing right? The station was quirkily intriguing, but in the end, it was just a gas station so we moved on. En route to Akeley, MN, our next objective, was the Mississippi River. This far north it's a rather pleasant river and not the primal force that rampages around through the souther states. Touching its waters unlocked another secret achievement for us. After a round of back slapping and the handing out of egregious compliments, we resumed our travels.

I can't think of a time when this should ever be OK.

Our goal in Akeley was a Paul Bunyan statue that we were thoroughly convinced would be an excellent specimen of Big People. And boy was he ever. I suspect that his crazed glassy stare was not that way simply because his eyes are likely made of glass, but rather for deeper and far more unsettling reasons. (For instance, it could have been given a parody of life at one point, a parody built upon the stolen hearts and tears of orphan children.) Hannibal swears up and down (typically he swears from side to side, so we could tell something was up) that he was touched in an inappropriate fashion when we had him pose with the Bunyan. As if Paul wasn't enough, we also found 'Hooch Lake.' Named after, one would imagine, the creepy Big People fiend sunning herself in a nearby stagnant pond. I'm going to refrain from posting a picture of her, A) because they are not OK, and B) because I think the internet police might revoke my privileges if I do so. Anyone who is really interested (both in seeing a picture and in raising my suspicions about their mental health as a result of asking to see it) is welcome to contact me with a request.

Once I was able to get Edison to stop rocking back and forth and get into the vehicle, we charted a course for Moorhead, MN. Why Moorhead? We needed to cross into ND at some point, and once we discovered that Moorhead had a Viking heritage museum we stopped looking and started driving. As it turns out Moorhead is just across a river from Fargo, ND; the two cities exist as a single metropolitan unit. We took our dinner in Fargo, and conveniently enough, found lodging minutes away from the museum, so it will be a short and easy commute in the morning.

You'd think he'd be a little more discrete.

Our excursions may have been tame (so to speak), but expedition drama continues to simmer. We are pretty sure Eloise tried to navigate us into a river today. We foiled her, but we are rapidly getting to the point where we will begin questioning all courses she offers us.

This is the first day of the trip since NY that Hannibal was unable to seduce any women. We caught him canoodling with Batman (actually a female bear, despite what her name might imply) despite rules about interexpedition shennanigans of that nature. It was bad enough when he was just flirting with Blitz. Mark my words, this is going to become a problem if it continues as is. Speaking of which, I need to go check on the Crew Bear gals. I'll be turning the con over to Edison in the meantime:

[Notes from Edison:
What is the bear equivalent of manwhore? I don't know that it comes up all that often... I can't believe I actually typed that. Anyway: On to the sadistic, the surreal, and the stylish.
Sadistic goes to whoever set up Hooch Lake. Not only was that floating harridan a scary sight, (I actually refused to get out of the car when His Nickness went to take pictures, I am not making this up) but there was a whole town of store fronts in this fictitious town, each with a listed proprietor and such, all very 'tongue-in-cheek' on the surface, but rather more 'tongue-protruding-from-below-fixed-glare-of-psychopath' when you took it in as a whole. I won't even begin to describe the sights I saw from the car. Go yourself if you dare.
The surreal goes to the police officer who was talking about getting drunk and throwing up on himself in a loud Jeremiah-ish voice at the table behind us at dinner. Seriously, dude. (It would have gone to the gift/sex shop, but I think that was covered sufficiently: Gifts.. gifts... gifts.. porn.WHOA!)
The stylish goes to Christine, the counter girl at our hotel, dressed in a lovely ensemble that emphasized her elegance and professionalism. As opposed to her demeanor, which emphasized how much she did not care that we were there and very clearly said that she wanted us the hell away from her nice clean lobby. Bravo. So far we have met three female employees in North Dakota; one, at the movie theater, was very pleasant. The other two were surly bitches. Not a good ratio. We will be leaving this state quickly.
I'd like to take this opportunity to introduce some members of our expedition for those who aren't familiar with myself and the Nickness. I'm aware that we might have been better off doing this long before now. We are not conventional people. You will learn this if you haven't already.
First of all His Nickness and I (Edison) are the most mobile and conversational of the group.
In addition we have a number of less animate assistants. First of all is Hannibal, of the teddy bear persuasion. Also of the slightly loose morals persuasion.
Our navigator is Eloise, of the Garmin clan, who as we have discussed, may be trying to kill us.
Our faithful steed and watcher of our belongings is Corona, descendant of a long line of Hondas. She has been nothing but delightful and helpful in everything we do.
Tachikoma and Charybdis, iFolk of different families, provide us with tunes both soothing and humorous to keep us awake and on task. Tachikoma also takes calls for my associate.
Jameson (Mac-something or other, probably scottish) is our technical advisor and serves as the point of origin for these broadcasts.
Finally Blitz, Batman, and Paliachi, the Crew Bears, (of a strange mini-teddy bear variant) are along for the ride kind of like hoboes hitch on trains, but without the smell or the danger. They have been pleasant, if not very active, riding partners.

For now: "I've been trying for hours just to think of what exactly to say, I thought I'd leave you with a letter or fiery speech, Like when an actor makes an exit at the end of a play, Running silent and deep, And all the things that can never be said, Why don't you look at me and read 'em and weep, Come on and look at me and read 'em and weep." You said it, Barry.
Ka kite anoo, and tofa... Are we the dreamers, or the dream?]

Thank you, Edison, for that alarmingly clear and stable contribution. I'm sure our readers will thank you for the role call as well. The Crew Bears have settled in for the night, fair readers, and we should probably follow suit. Thank you, America, and good night. This is the Nickness, signing off:

I bet you thought we were making this part up.

Thank you for tuning in! On our next episode: Vikings!; Unicorns?; New Mission Orders; Wrath Of The Gods Redux

A note concerning tangents: (VII)

Current Location: Ashland, WI (pop ~16,300)
(N46°34.907', W090°54.820, elev: 490 feet)
Distance Traveled on Leg 7: 359.0 miles
Total Distance Traveled: 2095.2 miles
Expedition Outlook: That was at least twice as crazy as you might think.
Number of clowns that is too many: 1

We are losing our battle with mornings. In a way, though, it simplified things. We had two potential destinations for the day, but it was very unlikely that we’d be able to visit both of them. As it turns out, it would have been a false hope to think we could have done both, so waking up when we did removed that from the equation and prevented us from potentially rushing to get both things in. On the table were the House on the Rock, an insane house, and Taliesin, the spring estate of architect Frank Lloyd Wright. I’ve always been a fan of Wright’s and was looking forward to seeing his home, but the sheer potential for spectacle at the House on the Rock was too much to pass up on. It is a choice I do not regret, nor does any other member of the expedition.  

This is a fair representation of the insanity in the Mill.

This garden is very disarming.

Faithful Readers, I didn’t think it would be possible for me to encounter an experience harder to describe than Frankenmuth. I was mistaken. The House on the Rock in Spring Green, WI is one of the coolest places I have ever been in my entire life. I fear it will be almost impossible to share this place with you via this broadcast. I will try my best, and we were able to acquire some decent photos despite the difficult native conditions, but I must preface this by saying that nothing I vouch here can hold a candle to the visceral experience of visiting this place. The site is split roughly into four sections: The House on the Rock, the Gatehouse, the Mill, and an area I will dub the visitor’s center as it doesn’t really have an official name (at least not one that I was aware of). 

Within the House on the Rock

Both the House on the Rock and the Gatehouse were habitats, although it would appear that neither was intended to serve as a a true living space, but rather as places for the friends and family of Alex Jordan (the architect and builder) to get together. They were designed as flowing, organic, functional spaces. They were built from the local limestone and timber and existed in a harmonious state with the land upon which they were constructed. Both were peaceful, calming and welcoming. As you may have inferred, one had to pass through the Gatehouse to get to the House on the Rock. The visitor center areas were a recent addition and were designed by a colleague of Jordan’s. They consist two pleasant gardens, a lobby area with a nice view of said gardens, and finally a true visitor’s center that showcase’s Jordan’s life, the construction and history of the House on the Rock complex, as well as some personal affects of Jordan’s. 

Yesterday's Streets

Last, and certainly not least is the Mill. The Mill is insanity and dream built from stone and wood and steel and thusly made manifest in our world. The Mill seemed to be Jordan’s playground. He built it as a place to clothe his fertile imaginings. The entire building is a showcase. This is true in the simple sense in that it served as a place for him to store and show his eclectic collections of objects (everything from model ships, to doll houses, to antique pistols, to pipe organs, to carousels). And simple showcases would not do, no, Jordan built room like the Streets of Yesterday, a stylized town where each shop front housed one of his collections such as china, or clocks. The rooms were themed, and each more awe inspiring than the last. 

The Blue Room, one of many music machines.

Perhaps the pinnacle attractions of the Mill were the music machines and the nautical wing that was Jordan’s last project before his death. First the music machines. Some of these were simple and worked on the same principle as music boxes, others more complex, such as player pianos. But then there were the music machines: vast constructs built into extended cabinets or into the very rooms themselves. The prime examples of these contained dozens of instruments, all of which were played by articulated armatures. Bellows powered wood and brass instruments, actuated arms took care of percussion, and player pianos and organs were in abundance. 

Those tiny dots over the octopus are people.

As you progressed through the Mill, Jordan kept pulling out stops, and just when you thought he couldn’t go any further, he topped himself again. The culmination of this spirit was the centerpiece of the nautical wing, a massive sculpture well over 200 feet long and  30 feet tall of a fantastic whale battling a giant octopus in the midst of a storm lashed sea. It sounds simple enough in the text, but walking into that room was stunning to the point of paralysis. You stop, you gape, and your mind takes the briefest moment to make process what it is seeing. I am still in awe of it. Unfortunately for Jordan, he died just months before the project’s completion, but based on what we read of the man, I suspect he would have been proud of it. 

That is a normal sized rowboat.

Hannibal was particularly boisterous within the compound and the furry diva demanded his photo be taken almost incessantly. And of course, despite being surrounded by wonder and majesty we found another type of gem in the lovely Jessica. Naturally, the irrepressible Hannibal wanted to meet her, and really who could blame him? Thank you for indulging us Jessica, you were very kind. Also, for what it’s worth, we think you work at one of the coolest places in the country.  Our excursion lasted approximately five hours and it was so awesome that Edison and I exchanged a high five when we were done. Five hours wasn’t enough. I’m not sure five weeks would have been. If any of you find yourselves anywhere within three or four hours of Spring Green I strongly encourage you to go visit.

Oh, Hannibal.

To be fair the rest of the day and the more mundane affairs of the expedition are dull and muted in the wake of the House. We rode the tails of our wonder for hours after the fact. Even now we are still discussing things we saw in the House. We made a brief stop in Baraboo, WI to wash our clothes and take care of other sundries, then we set off on the long sprint to northern WI so that we could finish our quest and assay Lake Superior in the morning. I am pensive, and slightly exasperated and disappointed in my inability to articulate the House better. I will let things stew and allow Edison to have a go at it:

[Notes from Edison:

No, I'm not going to do any better. In fact, I'm not even going to try and explain the house itself. But, think of this: You wake up in the morning hungry for waffles, a hunger that will not abate. You drive many miles to find the perfect waffles to satisfy this hunger. You acquire said waffles, in the perfect amount, and top them with the perfect toppings in the perfect proportions. These waffles are not only going to be the tastiest things you have ever eaten, but they are also so heartbreakingly beautiful that it is nearly a crime to eat them. Finally, you finally pick up knife and fork to dig in. At this point Teddy Roosevelt, William Avery Bishop, and Han Solo walk into the waffle joint and hand you the best freaking pulled pork sandwich you have ever eaten in your entire life, which totally blows waffles out of the water. They then take you out to watch Liverpool kick the crap out of Manchester United, followed by backstage tickets at the Pantera 'Back From the Dead' reunion tour (with reanimated Dimebag Darrell) and chocolate shakes with the spirits of Einstein, Lao Tse (and his translator), and Nikola Tesla. This metaphor equates to roughly the first fifteen minutes of the tour, and doesn't come near to grasping the essence of seeing the whale/octopus war.

While I'm on the subject, I wanted to talk about hotel check-out times. You know, if I check into a hotel at 2am, I should NOT have to leave by 11am the next day. Am I not paying the same price as the guy that checked in at 4pm? Shouldn't there be some sort of pro-rating going on here? Jerks. These guys are all jerks.

Anyway, let me finish with a few closing thoughts: "DC, San Antone and the Liberty Town, Boston and Baton Rouge, Tulsa, Austin, Oklahoma City, Seattle, San Francisco, too. Everywhere there's music, real live music, bands with a million styles, but It's still that some old rock and roll music that really drives 'em wild. They say the heart of rock and roll is still beating, and from what I've seen I believe 'em. Now the old boy may be barely breathing, but the heart of rock and roll is still beating."

Houje, and dogladanje. My eyes pierce the Umbra!]

Edison's metaphor was apropos, although due to personal preference, you may need to swap out the celebrities to gain maximum mileage from it. This is just one of those things that you need to see in person to appreciate (When you go, take me with you, because I'd like to see it again). I fear this may be a semi-common occurrence over the course of this expedition, but we will press gamely on, readers dear, and hold you snugly in our hearts and heads as we go. Thank you, America, and good night. This is the Nickness, signing off:

 Thank you for tuning in! On our next episode: Great Lakes Achievement Completed!; Minnesota: What's In It?; Mansion, Gas Station, Who's counting?; Dissent In The Ranks!

A note concerning public service announcements

Dear Readers,

While investigating some of my settings panes I noticed that the privacy settings on my comments section were ratcheted way up. I have adjusted that so that anyone may post comments, even folks without accounts. Sorry for any inconvenience that may have caused as we do like to hear from you!

Warmly
The Management

A note concerning tangents: (VI)

Current Location: Madison, WI (pop. ~236,000)
(N43°08.374', W089°17.948, elev: 935 feet
Distance Traveled on Leg 5: 190.3 Miles
Total Distance Traveled: 1736.2 Miles
Expedition Outlook: Satisfied
Percentage of Cabs in Chicago that look like police cruisers: 95%

As of this evening, the expedition has reached its seventh state since departing MA. We can now add Wisconsin to the list of states in the Union that have been graced by our presence. Today was good, but extremely full. Edison and I are still struggling to combat our nocturnal tendencies (Hannibal isn't even bothering to try) and this did work against us to some extent today. While we did manage to set wheels to pavement more than hour ahead of our usual times, that was still an hour later than we wanted to depart. Complicating things was the hour and a half long commute into Chicago (It was only 39 miles, traffic was atrocious.) Ultimately this ate into our time at the Adler Planetarium, but such is the way of things.

Though rusty, I was forced to negotiate the Lesser Seal of the Ninth Gate in order to forestall divine wrath in the form of rain. Something that did not occur during the planning phases of the expedition was Edison's infamous animosity towards Divine beings. He already drew forth the wrath of Apollo while we were in Ohio, and I'm fairly certain the thunderstorm that fell out of the sky while we were driving to Paw Paw was Zeus going after him. To be safe, I targeted my negotiation at Poseidon today, and that seemed to do the trick, but I wonder just what further calamity will be drawn down upon the expedition simply by having Edison-the-Lightning-Rod on our roster.

Field Museum

Our first stop was the Field Museum, Chicago's natural history museum. It is home to Sue, the largest and most intact T-Rex skeleton in the world. It also boasts the standard plethora of flora, fauna, and geology exhibits, and an impressive collection of fossils. Sue was pretty cool, although I thought she'd be bigger. Turns out T-Rex's are only about the size of elephants (There happened to be some in the lobby that we could compare her to.) Curiously enough, despite some extremely cool and rare exhibit pieces, the thing that stands out to me the most was the Hall of Plants. Not because it was terribly interesting or engaging, but because it was, well it. Clearly the museum had some sort of adventure botanist in their employ at one point or another who compiled everything and put together the exhibits, and they even devoted a whole wing to it. What made it stand out was that I'd never encountered anything quite like it in scope or depth, and that includes fine institutions like Manhattan's Museum of Natural History and the Smithsonian. The presentation was sleek and lovely, and the exhibits detailed, but no one was there. I'd say it was as quiet as a tomb, except there happens to be an egyptian tomb on display at the moment, and that place was packed. The Hall of Plants has clearly been there for awhile and is definitely a permanent exhibit. We established that the only love it must get is when kids on field trips sneak off into it to neck. Bearing all of that in mind, I will dedicate this portion of the 'Log to the Hall of Plants and the adventure botanists that crafted it.

He never did mention a boat...

A point of curiosity: Hannibal jumped into a mysterious trunk in the Pacific Islander exhibit and Edison followed him in hot pursuit. They were both gone for about a half of an hour, during which time I challenged various stuffed animals to games of "I spy" (Suspiciously, most of what my opponents were spying turned out to be patron's brains. The game got to be very uncomfortable very quickly.). I found Edison under a bench near the member's lounge. His sun burn seemed inflamed and he was wearing a hat made of palm fronds (Which he subsequently ate one leaf at a time over the course of the next three hours. When queried he acted like he had no idea what I was talking about). He claimed to have found his way to an island in Micronesia and showed me photos to prove it. He also claimed to have been there for four days battling spacemen. I find this all to be quite suspect. 

Your guess is as good as ours.

As for Hannibal, we found him riding a mechanical elk near the Hall of Animals shortly after Edison's return. He was covered in lipstick and smelled of cheap bourbon and cordite. Neither of us have any idea what happened or where he found the elk, and he refuses to talk about it, so it may very well remain a mystery.

Adler Planetarium

Due to our scheduling and traffic errors, once we sated ourselves on five or so hours at the Field Museum, we had very little time for the Adler Planetarium. We did a quick sprint through the grounds, checked out some exhibits on the moon and on telescopes (Edison subjected himself to cosmic ray bombardment. I'm not sure why, but knowing him it was probably some sort of "I'll fight my ultraviolet radiation burns with a different kind of radiation. It'll be like two sine waves canceling each other out." Except the way his brain has been working lately it probably went more like "Owie. Fire hurt! Ah ha! Different Fire hurt Fire and make go away! I am play God!") We finished our sprint by taking in a stars in the sky light show. Standard fare for a planetarium, except our guide to the solar system was a brilliant fellow named Pat who gave the best presentation of this type I had ever seen. He was informative and hilarious and witty, and it was a treat. If you're reading this, sir, thank you very very much. 

Da Bean.

With only about two hours of daylight left, we ventured into Grant Park, then into Millennium Park to see the mysterious "Bean," (actually called the Cloud Gate) a sculpture mentioned to us by our lovely bartender on Kelley's Island. By this point in the day, the excursion team had about 3.5 cylinders and only one functionally handicapped hamster left for powering our mental faculties, so finding the Bean within the much larger Grant Park was embarrassingly more difficult than it should have been. Once we finally stumbled in, we were delighted to discover that Millenium Park turned out to contain much more than the Bean; there was a snazzy foot bridge, a gorgeous outdoor performance space, a fountain folks could play in, as well as some gardens and likely a few other features we were too addled to notice. 

Hannibal you rogue.

The bright spot here was two lovely lasses named Jaime and Gabrielle. Like many before them, these fine gals fell prey to Hannibal's rakish charisma (Have no fear ladies, the only thing dirty about Hannibal is his mind). Not about to let serendipity slide through our fingers, we took the opportunity to engage them in conversation and get the local scoop on nearby eateries. Thank you again for your kindness and courteousness to a pair of strangers (emphasis on the strange, no doubt) so far from home. 

Daylight was fading quicker than Edison's sanity, so we cut our chat short and set forth for our last stop, the SkyDeck at the Willis (formerly Sears) Tower. It was a hike: we were hungry, we discovered that everything apparently closes by 7 PM in this part of Chicago, and darkness was descending like a hood. After finally acquiring some chow, we drag ourselves to the SkyDeck to find that it is, and I hope you are holding on to your seats, dear readers, closed. "Why was it closed?" is what I'm sure you're anxiously asking your monitors. Grab on tight! It was closed 'due to high winds.' Winds. In Chicago. The Windy City. Who'd have thought? Not us, fair readers, nor did the two other pairs of visitors that arrived on the scene while we were still couched in incredulity. We six briefly formed an emotional bond of solidarity in united outrage and then went our separate ways. Somehow our winded neurons were able to guide us back to Corona and we set off north for Wisconsin.  Edison is currently eyeing me like his former palm frond cap, so I'm going to let him broadcast his piece and then send him to bed:

[Notes from Edison:
Chicken Soup Cheese, a surprisingly tasty artifact from bounteous Frankenmuth (the Cheese Haus), is my companion for this writing. Please ignore the mumbling and chewing noises.
Today was an exercise in ... well, exercise. It turns out we walked for pretty much a full 12 hours. Thankful for comfy shoes I am. Also for having a job that keeps me on my feet all the time. Otherwise I would be a blistered mess right now. Well; my feet, in addition to my shoulder. Healing goes apace, no worries.
Chicago, it seems, is the Grizzle capitol of the world. Many inhabitants seem to be struck by this strange - disease? Genetic condition? No one seems to know. Whatever it is, it it evident everywhere, from the truckers to the shirtless bike riders to the older ladies frying themselves in the sun along the lake. It's presence is a gentle sussurus  in the background, occasionally rising to ear-splitting levels when a particularly involved specimen wanders near. Sort of a "ggrriiiiizzzzzzlllle....ggrriiiiiizzzzzllle... grzgrriizz..griiiiGRIZZLEGRIZZLE!!!" Fortunately the grizzlers are easy to avoid, and seem to have no interest in, say, our juicy delicious brains. But I digress.
At the end of a long day of walking, with only a lonely bagel for sustenance so long ago, we set off for food at last. Not having made a decision as to where to go yet, we overhear a gentleman behind us mention Chipotle, a place with which I am quite familiar. 'Sounds good', we think, and head off. Turns out that except for one Mystery Chipotle that hides better than a speakeasy, all restaurants anywhere near the Willis (Sears) Tower close at like 6pm. WHAT THE UNHOLY BLINTZ IS THAT!? I disapprove of this, greatly.
Let me say one thing further before I go off to shower and bed: "We were at a party, his ear lobe fell in the deep. Someone reached in and grabbed it, it was a rock lobster. Here comes a stingray; there goes a manta-ray; in walked a jelly fish; there goes a dogfish; chased by a catfish; in flew a sea robin; watch out for that piranha; there goes a narwhale... HERE COMES A BIKINI WHALE!"
Valete, and na shledanou. Our kung-fu is best!]

Thank the Fates I had the foresight to bring that cheese in, or I don't think I'd have been able to keep him focused and on task. Tomorrow's agenda promises a potentially heavy encounter rate with Big People, so I will need all my wits and faculties available. It is time to bid you farewell once again. Thank you, America, and good night. This is the Nickness, signing off.

Good night Chicago!

Thank you for tuning in! On our next episode: Find Me Another Time Dilating Trunk!; How Do You Know It's Not Made Of People?; We Know Exactly Where That's Been; Ding!