Niagara Falls

We stayed the night in Niagara Falls, New York at the Best Western after we left the Neuburger Lake House. The motel building hadn’t been updated since the seventies, and the retro carpets and wall paper were proof. The town is run down, desolate, and appears to be hanging on by a thread. The only parking lots that seem to host guests belong to the military base, Walmart and Chilies – everything else appears on the brink of dilapidation. We catch some much needed z’s and head out to the falls in the morning. Before we depart the inn, we stop off for continental breakfast in the lobby. For the first time in weeks we are surrounded by an assortment of various racial groups, and I tell Jarvis that it’s kind of nice to be back in a diverse environment…even if they are all tourists. Then, I look over to a family that has brought their own jar of mayonnaise to breakfast and is slathering up some hard boiled eggs, and I’m ready to be unaccompanied again.

We drive to the falls, which are just a couple miles down the road, and as we maneuver parallel to the Niagara River we can see the shores of Canada lying on the other side, and I tell Jarvis that it’s “the closest that I’ve ever been to the great white north.” I try my hardest at a Canadian accent but fail miserably. We steer down Niagara Street and find some relatively cheep parking. The lot is littered with garbage, the souvenir shop towers several stories overhead, and the air is pungent with Indian food. Nothing like the smell of curry in the morning to jump start your day. We walk past the Canadian border and Rainbow Bridge, which leads to our northerly neighbor, but opt to stay on our free and brave soils. We actually have so much shit in the car that we figured if we attempted to cross into Canada we would probably sit at customs for the better part of the day – I mean, come on people, we all know that we don’t appear to be the most pure of citizens and after the hard boiled eggs and Indian food, the last thing I want is to be profiled all morning. Besides, this is an examination of America’s sweet and sour, so we stick to the procedure.

As we approach the falls, the roar of the powerful waters grows stronger, and the mist rising from the abyss thickens to create rainbow droplets in the flickering sunlight. The American Falls drop in front of us and the Canadian Horseshoe Falls disappear in the distance. The view is sincerely mesmerizing, and the sheer magnitude of the energy carried in the gush is compelling. The two of us stand in silence for a fair amount of time – each lost in our thoughts found swimming amongst the current through the oscillating waves. We ask an older man to take our photo, and as our minds reconvene we both express how thankful we are that we came here. Totally Sweet.

We get back in the car and hit the road with purpose. Our goal is to get to Canby, Minnesota within the next thirty-five hours and we have a lot of ground to cover. The drive is boring, at best, as we transverse Ohio, Pennsylvania, and Indiana; we don’t see much that impresses us. Each state has a “Thruway” which is a clever way of collecting tolls from those of us that just wish to haul ass through their lame state as fast as possible. I guess they have to make money somehow, and since we’re sure as hell not bunking here, I guess they will get their nine dollar tolls for using their highways. Bunch of crap if you ask me. We reach the outskirts of Chicago just before dusk, and make a joint decision to power through and get to the other side of the sprawl before we stop – we figured that it would be better than attempting in the morning during the commute hours; however, we totally forgot that it’s Labor Day and everybody was on their way home from the weekend festivities. Traffic was still a bitch, and after getting lost in the super ghetto on the south side of Chicago we are both spent and on the verge of a breakdown. We haven’t eaten in hours and we both have to take a piss which isn’t sugar coating the situation. After a good hour of trying to reach the Chicago Skyway, we finally get back on the right path. I guess it’s the times like these that are supposed to make our relationship stronger. We make peace when we finally find a resting spot on the other side of Chicago. Although the situation was stress city, in the morning we are both glad that we made the maneuver.

We drove through the southwest corner of Wisconsin and into Minnesota. Jarvis’ face lights up with excitement as we pass the state line looming below us somewhere in the middle of the Mississippi. He starts conversing stories and facts about his home state, and I’m glad to see my man so happy to be back in his native lands. It’s amusing to watch his level of enthusiasm increase as we make way through the homestead, and as we pull into Canby, we both take a deep relieving breath of country air.