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The original plan was to B-line through northern Wisconsin, driving due west toward the Minnesota lakes and forests. But the idea of passing through America's Dairyland without sampling some cheese curds was killing me, so we took a hard left and headed to the nearest...

When you cross the bridge between lower Michigan and the Upper Peninsula, you feel yourself slipping back in time. But not in the backwards, mothball sense. More like you are in the passenger’s seat of Lewis and Clark’s expedition, seeing America the way it was suppose...

Madge's odometer--not to mention her oily bits--are getting quite the workout.  The miles accumulate by the day, progress towards nowhere in particular.  West, I suppose.  

We're in the northern Minnesota wilds now, driving through canyons of imposing conifers...

I will admit to rolling my eyes during Tim Allen’s “Pure Michigan” commercials. The montage of rivers, pine trees, and bald eagles all seemed a bit forced and overly dramatic.

Well, I was wrong.  Michigan is unbelievably beautiful and the rivers, pine trees, and (yes, r...

I didn’t always love to cook. In fact, throughout college, my cereal obsession was somewhat renowned. Why bother with mixing, sautéing, and all. those. dishes. when you could just crack open a box of Kashi Go Lean for dinner?

 Then a few years ago, on a whim, I signed u...

Our life on the road began in earnest as we crossed the Peace Bridge from Buffalo to Fort Erie, Ontario, leaving behind the hospitality of friends and surprising charm of western New York.

One week in, living out of a van has proven to be an exercise in contradiction: e...

We left DC in a rush, hurrying to beat the evening traffic out of the city. It was a businesslike, emotionless departure—the very frantic hustle we hoped we could escape over the next year. Habit. The previous three months preparing for this trip had been increasingly...

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