Just for something to do today, we laid loose plans to go to Ligonier for the day. Technically not quite in Ligonier, but we stopped at the Lincoln Highway Museum first. I only just recently learned that this place existed which is nuts because we have driven part of the Lincoln Highway many times on trips to eastern PA. I wasn’t sure what this place would entail (I mean, obv. highway educational tropes) but I did know that coffee and a slice of pie is included in the admission and that was enticing for me!

I want to say first off that the woman working at the welcome desk was the EPITOME of welcoming. Like, give her a wagon already. She was a delight and seemed genuinely invested in the quality of our visit by giving us a pamphlet, A STAMPED POSTCARD (this comes into play later!), instructions on how to use the self-guided audio wand, detailed directions to the restroom (which was what Henry asked her IMMEDIATELY, so embarrassing), etc. She was great. I wish I caught her name but I am so bad at that.

Hoshi!

I loved the photos of some of the roadside attractions in their glory days. Anyone who knows me even a little knows I am Amish-enamored with a penchant for that sweet ass shoo fly pie so and have visited Dutch Haven many times over the years. I am so glad that it’s still thriving!

Historic Route 30: Dutch Pies, Elusive Pretzels & a Pachyderm Paradise

And the shoe house! Grateful that Chooch and I got to tour it before it closed to the public :( I think Henry said it’s an air bnb now ugh.

…then whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.

Then in this room, the museum lady came in and turned on a 13 minute video for us. Right before that, Henry was like, “We better choose our seats” and I thought he was joking because we….were the only people in the room and there were about 50 empty seats? But he wasn’t joking so now I’m scared that he’s seeing dead people. I mean, the museum is in an old….something. I wasn’t paying attention.

You guys my ADHD is unhinged. I zoned out almost immediately after the museum lady turned off the lights and shut the door on her way out. Henry was enthralled, but I was reading my Insta DMs. There was this one point where I thought it was over so I whisper-yelled, “Yay!” but it was just a very long blank transition into the next scene.

Any road enthusiasts out there can feel free to ask Henry for a synopsis because he watched the whole thing like a hawk and probably was saying, “Knew that. Knew that too. Yep, already knewed.” while mentally chopping away at Rt 30 facts as they came at him like some boring infrastructure version of Fruit Ninja.

(OK look. That is the one part I was listening to, when something was being discussed about INFRASTRUCTURE and in my head, I burnt myself on the lit up lightbulb and said, “OH THAT IS WHAT INFRASTRUCTURE IS” because literally the other day some political canvasser came to my house and was yapping on and on about why he supports the guy running against our current mayor and he was like, “and because of the infrastructure” and I said, “Yeah totally” but had no idea what was going on. This guy was like 20 too and had his finger way more firmly on the pulse of local politics. I will be frank here and say that I pay attention to world news and national news but NEVER watch the local news so I have no idea if I’m for or against our current mayor. I do know his name at least and he’s who I voted for in the last election, did I do bad?)

Tomorrow is Mother’s Day so I sent this to Chooch. His response?

“Wow.”

You already knew that. Just like Henry and his Lincoln Highway knewing.

Not pictured, but there was also an exhibit on license plates and they said that all but like….3 or 4 states? have inmates making license plates and I practically screamed OMG THAT’S ACTUALLY TRUE?? Henry just smirked and nodded because again, he knows everything. I wonder if he knows this one firsthand though…

OK OMG OMG OMG this whole time I was like “I HOPE WE CAN FIND A PEN SOMEWHERE, I HOPE THERE IS A PEN IN THE CAR, I HOPE THERE IS A MAILBOX NEARBY” but then there was a whole section of the museum DEVOTED TO POSTCARDS with TABLES AND PENS AND A MAILBOX!!!!!

I was GEEKED.

I made Henry write one to his mom. He tried to say he didn’t know her address off by heart and I said, “NO WORRIES I HAVE IT SAVED TO HER CONTACT INFO ON MY PHONE” and spun my phone so that the screen faced him. I am always prepared in case there are postcards in the near future.

I wrote mine to Chooch! I signed it MOMMY and wrote “stan Johnnie Guilbert” on it too so he will be so thrilled when he gets that. If he ever checks his mailbox.

They had enlarged postcards from the past on display. This place was totally my jam.

I loved this! It reminded me of when I was smoking in highschool (UGH) and used to purposely go to the same 2 0r 3 diners specifically to use their cigarette machines. WTF was wrong with me. Well, I mean, aside from being addicted to nicotine.

My dad would be so stoked on so many of these exhibits! He is a connoisseur of pop machines and coolers and ESPECIALLY loves his bevvies in glass bottles. Definitely mentioned this numerous times but Henry won my dad’s heart by gifting him with a case of glass-bottled Faygo root beer for Christmas years ago.

Before roadside motels, there were roadside CABINS and this is what the inside of one looked like, much nicer than a lot of the places Henry has had us holed up in, that’s for sure.

The pie and coffee portion of the tour came at the end. There is an actual vintage diner inside the museum!

That lady over there was so nice and got our pies for us. Two men came in right after us and also sat at the counter. It turned out that they were from Mt. Lebanon which is just two towns over from us, so that was kind of wild. The diner lady was laughing because she said she expected to meet people from all over when she started working there but most people are from within an hour away. She said the first guy she ever met there was from Latrobe, and she was like UGH THAT’S WHERE I’M FROM TOO. Lol.

Somehow, she mentioned that her daughter is in Portugal this week and the guys were like, “Oh wow one of our friends is also in Portugal this week!” The full sitch was that her daughter was going with friends and meeting a friend over there, and they were like, “OUR FRIEND IS ALSO GOING WITH FRIENDS AND MEETING A FRIEND THERE?!” and the lady was like, “What is your friend’s name? No, that doesn’t sound familiar.”

I peaced-out somewhere through that discourse but tuned back in at the end and thought, “Oh what a bummer” but then I just asked Henry for the full story because after we left, he was like, “THEIR FRIEND AND HER DAUGHTER HAVE TO BE GOING TO MEET THE SAME FRIEND THAT IS TOO COINCIDENTAL” and I was like, “I’m saying.” But I had no idea what was going on until right now, hours later, as I’m writing this so you and I, blog, are learning together.

Look, don’t expect a fat ass slice, but it’s free so just be happy with that. Honestly, it was good, maybe not Double R Diner tier, but I would have definitely written home about it if I hadn’t already mailed the postcard.

(OMFG HENRY FOUND THE INSTAGRAM OF THE FRIEND OF THE GUYS’ NEXT TO US AND SAID, “YEP THIS IS HER BECAUSE SHE’S IN PORTUGAL” but we don’t know the museum diner lady’s daughter’s name so what good is that…? Creep.)

After this, we did other things which I will post about later. But this was a good start to the day and I had no complaints.

You guys will never believe this but while we were on the way to the brewery last Saturday, we drove past the Butler Institute of American Art and I caught a sign that said FREE ADMISSION. So, while we were at lunch, I suggested that we stop there before driving home since we had been drinking, so that we could sober up, etc.

(This makes it sound like we were blitzed but we really weren’t. It’s just that it was over an hour drive home and who wants to be in the car that long after eating and drinking?)

Meanwhile, Mrs. It’s Not That We Were Drunk said, “Take a picture of me with this bitch” and then as I was backing up to get closer, I didn’t notice that there was a small step, so I tripped BACKWARD and landed right on my butt in front of “this bitch.”

The perfect display of “I meant to that do.”

Henry hardly EVER laughs at anything I do or say but this got a BIG BELLY LAUGH from the old man.

I used to smoke those 

Dude don’t worry. We truly weren’t THOSE PEOPLE inside the museum. I promise. We were quiet, normal, and respectful. Henry even asked one of the docents a question. OK, it was just “Where is the restroom?” but then later he asked another one a real question about whether or not the paintings in the section we were in had been restored at all. The docent was like, “Well….some of them have, yeah. Like this one for example—-” and then pointed to the one we were standing near and we were like, “OK cool good to know” but then he continued standing there, staring at it dreamily long after we turned a corner. It was kind of creepy but also made me think to myself: “Aw.”

Anyway, it was crazy actually looking at art with Henry???!!! We never do stuff like this together! He hates the Mattress Factory, for example, although that is a totally different beast, to be fair.

They should put this outside in front of that bitch.

OMG obviously I loved this wing of the museum the most.

Figuring out how to install this in our living room.

Speaking of Mattress Factory, though, Yayoi Kusama has a permanent exhibit there (the infamous mannequin room!).

There were hardly any other art-peepers there that afternoon, so we really enjoyed the quiet and time we got to spend in each wing.

There’s one of these in the Mattress Factory too and I do not get it.

I loved this part of the museum because we had to walk across a pedestrian bridge to A CHURCH. I guess the actual church part is still used for you know, church things, but there were more exhibits upstairs. This room was a loft that overlooked the church below and I was obsessed!

Yes!!

I was so excited to see this! I have something similar-ish from my Pappap’s house!!!

We were in a race against the clock toward the end there though as an announcement came on warning patrons that the joint was closing in 30 minutes.

“We can come back again, you know,” Henry huffed as I raced past him to see what was in a basement corridor (CLOWN SHIT!!! I ALMOST MISSED IT!). But in the end, we managed to make it through every part of the place and you know what? It was so much fun and Henry actually agreed. AND IT COST NOTHING! What a great way to spend an afternoon. We didn’t even argue!!?

Afterward, we stopped at nearby Pressed Coffee Bar for some after-art caffeine and sugar.

I got a strawberry white chocolate latte and it was alright. The sugar cookie we split was VERY HARD but still good. It was a sugar, after all, and sometimes any sugar is better than no sugar.

We rounded off our random Saturday Day Date with a stroll through some Youngstown cemetery that made me feel uncomfortable but it was fine.

It’s been decided that we will now try to do something like once a month or so. We’ll see how long that lasts, lol.

You guys, we were staying right down the street from the Bean and even though we have seen it several times before I thought that maybe, on a frigid Monday morning, there might not be crowds so we walked on over.

Had we been ONE MINUTE FASTER we’d have beaten this one couple who arrived seconds before us and proceeded to do an entire amateur photoshoot and I was trying to be polite and not get in their way but also, COME ON.

We stayed to the side for awhile and then finally when they were, readjusting or something, regrouping, discussing the next series of poses, who the fuck knows, I ran over and was able to have Henry take one picture of me quickly.

We were going to leave after that but I was like NO I WANT ONE TOGETHER THIS IS RIDICULOUS.

So I interrupted them and asked if they would take one of us together. The lady of the couple agreed and proceeded to take some very bizarre and unpopular angles, not once getting the whole Bean, and then I had to crop her fingers out of every shot.

Also, she somehow TURNED OFF LIVE so our “jumping shot” looks like this:

But whatever, I can’t complain too much because it was a nice to experience the Bean without throngs of people duck-facing it up.

She did take this “behind the scenes” video though so I guess there’s that lol.

Now my toes are frozen and we’re on our way home. I miss Taemin with my whole fucking heart in case you were wondering.

I didn’t feel like liveblogging and also Henry and I were listening to an audiobook like the lamest empty nesters who ever emptied their nest BUT we just stopped for lunch at a cute vegan spot called ROOTED VEGAN in a small Indiana town called ANGOLA. Props to me for finding it – Henry continues to do fuck all on the food finding front.

Ok first of all, the woman behind the counter was friendly and patient while Henry squinted at the menu behind her and bristled his moustache like it’s a facial Magic 8 Ball ready to choose his food for him.

I got the bakn chikn wrap and Henry got the Nashville chikn wrap – I fucking BEASTED mine. It was just what I wanted and now I’m full but not painfully so, and will probably be able to skip dinner so yay for that because I always panic about eating before a concert!!

We also got a lemon crinkle cookie and a chocolate cookie sandwich straight PUMPED with pumpkin frosting. Hoooooboy it was rich and decadent and that nearly pushed me over the edge but then we went for a stroll around the cutie courtyard/square area before getting back in the car so that helped.

Dude, that car/truck thing.

This place was so cutie!

After I took this picture of Sojouner Truth, some young guy in a BURNT UMBER hoodie and disheveled ginger hair stopped by and said, “That guy was a pedo.” He was pointing to another statue, and I felt like I needed to take a picture of it so as I walked over, he followed me and said, “Yeah he was gay but it was the 1800s so he couldn’t really do anything about it you know.”

I said something along the lines of “ya don’t say” but like, less 1950s and more modern times.

The Angola Pedo.

Then he continued along his way, stopping at each business and handing out a paper of unknown subject matter.

“Wow, I basically got a tour,” I said and Henry laughed REALLY HARD which disgusted me because it wasn’t funny at all.

IT’S BEEN REAL, ANGOLA.

P.S. I just went back and looked at that statue and that dude died in 1790-something so that guy gave me FAKE NEWS.

We spent the day in southern (?) West Virginia yesterday. I think it was southern. I don’t feel like looking at a map but I think we were at the bottom-ish of the state in Huntington. The main….attraction? was Camden Park which I’ll recap later in its own post, but afterward we had a late lunch (linner, really) at a nearby fastfood joint called Frostop. I saw it on Roadside America last week when I was scoping out the area around Camden Park and this was on there all thanks to the large, rotating mug of root beer that sits atop the snack shack like a crowned jewel of fastfood royalty.

I also saw that they have grilled cheese on the menu so it was a must-do at that point. Plus, I like root beer just fine.

Because I’m a fucking doof, I always search YouTube for videos on places that we are going to visit so I thought outloud, “I wonder if anyone made any Frostop videos?” Oh Erin, babe. Honey bunny with the half brain. Of course people have made videos about visiting Frostop. This is 21st century America. We the people have nothing better to do and there is an audience for anything. So, I found a video filmed last year and in that video, the girl working there that was being “interviewed” (ACTUALLY MIGHT HAVE BEEN OUR SERVER FROM YESTERDAY) said that the mug was not currently spinning because of some mechanical issue that was being looked at. So, that was a concern we had! I ONLY WANTED TO GO TO THIS PLACE TO SEE THE SPINNING ROOT BEER MUG! I WAS PROMISED A SPINNING ROOT BEER MUG!

As we drove down the road closer to its location, Henry spotted the mug on the horizon and HOLLERED, “It’s spinning!!!” I mean, great, but let’s not shout about it!?

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Erin Appledale (@ohhonestlyerin)

I guess Frostop is actually a brand of root beer and other “grandpa’s favorite” adjacent bevvies. For instance, I am 100% certain if I texted my dad right now and asked if he knows what Frostop is, he will fire back with an entire history of the brand alongside a picture of one of his pop machines with a row of Frostop for the taking. My dad LOVES pop, especially old-fashioned types.

But Frostop also has several “Drive-ins” in certain states, and the one in Huntington happens to be the closest one to us here in Pittsburgh so I really felt like we needed to stop here (even though Hillbilly Hot Dogs several miles away looked waaaaay cooler and actually veg options?!).

First impression: the girl who was working there yesterday was very friendly and personable and determined immediately that we were city folk who needed extra guidance. She explained that we could either stay in our car for CAR SERVICE (I didn’t realize this was a legit “drive-in”!) or we could sit at one of the umbrella’d tables and she’d be with us in a minute.

Second first impression: I LOVED THE AMBIANCE. Brown and cream is so ugly together but somehow it just works in these types of situations.

So honestly, this place could have had shitty food and I would still have enjoyed my time there. It was just my style. Add it to the list with Pal’s Sudden Service and Mr. Happy’s. 

And Mama Steve’s and Mr. Pancake.

The expressions.

I would like to note that Mush Brain struck again when the server asked what I wanted to drink and I confidently said, “Mountain Dew.”

“Sorry, we only have Coke products,” she said, and I was like, in my Mush Brain, thinking that was weird considering this was literally named for its root beer and that’s when I realized that MOUNTAIN DEW inexplicably came out of my mouth instead of root beer?!

“Oh! I meant to say root beer,” I corrected myself. “I don’t know why I said Mountain Dew,” and then I glanced at Henry who was looking at me with “are you having a stroke?” eyes. You guys, Mountain Dew was my drink of choice for pretty much all of my teens and into my early 20s until I basically quit drinking pop / soda cold turkey so I can’t even remember the last time I actually ordered a Mountain Dew at a restaurant or pulled one out of a cooler in a gas station, yet for some reason it rolled so effortlessly and familiarly off my tongue like I blinked and it was 2001 again.

Bizarre.

But yes, I know I said I never drink sodas anymore but I had to make an exception and get the root beer that they are famously named for! You can’t go to Frostop and not get a Frostop, or so I hear!

Chooch got a lemonade and we both opted to get our drinks in mugs. Henry got his in a to-go cup for some reason.

OK, HERE’S THE REVIEW: The root beer tasted like ordinary root beer to me (also, I’m glad that in the video we watched, the guys got root beer floats because prior to watching that I had grand designs to float it up but then I saw them and they are MASSIVE. It would have knocked me out for the day, and I might have had to puke at some point on the way home, not trying to be vulgar for once, just honest!!!). The grilled cheese was a big time meh. The bread was meh, it was barely “grilled,” and the cheese was soooo bad, like something you’d expect to be served up in a nursing home. Like, if my brain was cheese – mushy, but less melted. It was very strange cheese.

So, don’t get the grilled cheese. If you eat meat, Henry ordered BOTH the burger AND weiner and said they both good.

BUT YO.

THE ONION RINGS.

Wooooooo baby. Those were some of the BEST onion rings I’ve ever had. Also, note that I am super picky re: onion rings and onions in general. I hate when the onion is still practically raw and crunchy, and I also hate when you bite into it and the entire strand of onion is pulled out.

This was the PERFECT medium – not raw, but just crisp enough that one bite would sever the onion AND it didn’t have that slimy worm feel to it. I was so happy with these onion rings, but my stomach was NOT. Even without indulging in a root beer float, I still ended up down for the count and actually thought I was going to have to throw up before we even left the place. My bitch baby stomach just cannot handle anything greater than peanut butter toast these days, it’s so pathetic.

I did not end up puking, you’ll be pleased to know, and was able to last long enough at the table to BUY A FROSTOP SHIRT. The last 5 or so years, I have been in my commemorative diner/restaurant t-shirt or mug era. It’s so random and Henry doesn’t even hesitate anymore when I say, “I have to get a shirt.”

So, I now happily own a Frostop shirt just like the ones the employees wear!

“Aren’t you excited to inherit all of my diner and fastfood t-shirts when I die?” I asked Chooch.

“Yeah, I am so excited. I can’t wait,” he said in a monotone slick with onion ring grease.

“And my haunted house journals!” I added gleefully.

“I’m excited to burn those,” he said.

WOW.

And that was our memorable time at Frostop. SHOULD I TRY TO VISIT ALL OF THEM NOW?!

This part of Saturday night was frustrating. I had a plan and as per usual Henry decided to wipe his ass with it and go rogue. We were supposed to go to Portland after Funtown, have dinner, look at the lighthouse, do fun and cool city stuff. But Henry was like WE WILL INSTEAD GO TO THAT BEACH PLACE YOU MENTIONED and like, yeah, I mentioned it but that was for Sunday night?! When it would probably be less crowded?

So, we get there and it’s crowded (surprise) and Henry was being so annoying about parking. I lost it and cried, “JUST FORGET IT, LET’S JUST GO TO THE AIRBNB” and he was like “AT 7:OOPM?? AND THEN JUST STAY THERE?!” because it was in the middle of nowhere with stuff to do. So then after he started to head toward that way, I was like FINE JUST GO BACK and so we did but it was annoying and crowded and honestly, I just didn’t like the vibes.

The actual area is called Old Orchard Beach, btw, and it is NO WILDWOOD, NJ, that I will tell you. I was hoping for Big Beach Energy but it wasn’t that. It felt like a county fair, but put it next to the beach.

We didn’t spend much time here. We had three coaster creds to scoop up – Henry opted out because we had to pay per ride and he is El Cheapo.

Thrilled.

This Orient Express was actually kind of forceful!?

I don’t know why Henry took so many pictures.

And a video:

Then we rode an SBF Visa Spinner. It was fine. Didn’t spin much and you can tell we are just so excited to be there riding a coaster model we’ve ridden 87 times.

This place was very crowded. It was like the Jersey Shore but with Maine accents and lots of French-Canadian tourists.

The main attraction was SEA VIPER:

I really enjoyed this! It was wild and not nearly as uncomfortable or janky as I had it pegged to be by scoping it out from line. And for one-train ops, the wait actually wasn’t that bad – maybe 25 minutes?

I loved this flat ride the most though!! YOU CAN TELL, BECAUSE I AM ACTUALLY SMILING!

Then we also did a realllllly lame funhouse (sorry, but Europe spoiled us with funhouses!!) and then walked down some pier thing with restaurants that had no food for vegetarians, and then we got coffee from some old woman at a snack counter. She was nice. The coffee was OK.

God, I was in such a foul mood though. I was hungry but not, I was sad but angry, I was tired but bored. Nothing was making me happy. I actually flipped out right after Henry took this picture because people were walking by and I was like HURRY UP AND TAKE THE PICTURE and then I decided NEVER MIND JUST FORGET IT and I walked away while Chooch was still sitting there, like, “I thought you wanted a picture here…?” and YOU KNOW WHAT, I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT I WANTED.

So then we left and started to make our way to the airbnb in Westbrook, Maine which was about 20 minutes away and I cried in the passenger seat while occasionally snarling shitty remarks at Henry in the stylings of Teenage Girl Possessed by the Devil, because that is just what I do now. Where is my Olympic gold for being the GOAT at crying on the spot while verbally eviscerating Henry. This bitch can multi-task.

OH I WAS ALSO PISSED BECAUSE MY BLOG WAS BROKEN AND I WAS TRYING TO LIVE BLOG AND WHY IS EVERYTHING IN MY LIFE BREAKING/DYING/LEAVING/ETC.

Look at these beautiful memories I’ve been making this summer.

We’re officially home from the weekend road trip and somehow it feels like we were gone for way longer than 48 hours and also my right thumb feels like it’s injured suddenly so that’s a fun thing that I will need to investigate further.

Not much happened yesterday aside from a brief visit to Hershey Park which I guess I will recap later although not too much to report on there.

However, afterward we stopped at The Soda Jerk for dinner. We ate here a few years ago too and if I recall / I think / we all kind of liked it / etc. etc. Dinner at Soda Jerks.

I’m delirious.

Anyway, when we walked in, Henry asked me if I wanted a booth and I said yes of course duh booth of gtfo what kind of question even is that.

So then the hostess came over and he WHISPERED about wanting a booth, literally WHISPERED, and then seem shocked when she slapped down the menus at a table.

I was so annoyed and Chooch was too out of principle so then Henry started getting all defensive about how we’re perfectly capable of asking for a booth and I said, “You literally said you were going to ask! Then don’t say you’re going to ask and turn it around on us!” And it turned into a thing so he angrily shot up from the table and stormed off to find someone to ask if we could move to a booth and then they made Chooch and I even more disgusted because we hate when he acts like a tough guy who has to do everything. Like bitch please do you know how hard our roles are as “the cute pampered entitled ones of the family”?? It is annoying when we have to ask for things that should always be done automatically!!

Anyway, we got to move to a booth. Here is Henry trying to act mad still:

I tired to move his placement over to Chooch’s side but then Chooch moved it back while Henry tried to play off the fact that no one in his party desired to sit next to him.

This National Geographic tshirt was a whole ordeal. I haven’t gotten to this in my Korea recaps yet but this (and Kodak?!) are trending and the clothes etc are $$$. I couldn’t believe it?! I bought him this shirt after being worn down by his whining because it was the only thing under $100 really. Ridiculous. I was like, “Please don’t get ketchup on your shirt.”

SIDE NOTE: They don’t use Heinz at The Soda Jerk??

SECOND SIDE NOTE: This is how Chooch has looked at both Henry and me for the last…13 years probably. OK, 16.

Chooch was excited because they had blackberry lemonade, as evidenced by the white sticker stuck to the beverage section of the menu, boasting “blackberry lemonade / strawberry lemonade” in actually very neat handwriting, so props to Soda Jerk for taking pride in penmanship. This is a lost art in some eating establishments as evidenced just by walking down our very own Brookline Blvd.

But when he ordered it, our server – who displayed the exact opposite levels of attentiveness and friendliness as NAT from MONSTER VEGAN and appeared to be looking off into the distance for her boyfriend to roll up on his hog to rescue her from this GREASE PIT – came back and reported that they were OUT OF BLACKBERRY LEMONADE. Chooch, crestfallen, said, “Oh…how about the strawberry lemonade then?”

This resulted in a slight huff from this young lady who now hated us and she said, “I DON’T KNOW LET ME CHECK” and walked the whole whopping ten feet back to the counter where she hollered down to another server, “DO WE HAVE STRAWBERRY LEMONADE??” and we heard a disembodied voice call back, “Yes, and we have blackberry too!”

Chooch and I exchanged a look, and then a glass of blackberry lemonade was set down in front of him a few moments later. “I lied, we did have blackberry lemonade” and then she flitted away without also giving me my coffee, which is ALL I HAD WANTED FOR HOURS UPON HOURS as noted by all who walked near me in Hershey Park as I whined about needing coffee and how it was rendering me incapable of walking in a straight line.

Meanwhile, Henry had just returned from lala land. “What flavor is that, raspberry?” Henry asked as Chooch complained about how his lemonade didn’t even taste like blackberry. And then after Chooch said “blackberry,” Henry goes, “I thought they didn’t have blackberry?”

In unison, Chooch and I groaned our patented teenage “Oh my god.” Literally, Henry is always four chapters behind. So unaware!!

Next thing we knew, our food was here, and my coffee still was not.

She asked if she could bring us anything else, and I asked, “Could I also have coffee?” not wanting to make her feel dumb for forgetting it, you know? So instead, I’ll just….reorder it. Maybe she was having a bad day. Maybe her pet turtle died. Maybe her boyfriend was not going to show up for her on his bitchin’ hog because he dumped her the night before. My tactic in life lately is to be an anti-Karen. For instance, my neighbor was outside bitching to another neighbor about me feeding the squirrels so instead of going out there and escalating it because when I tell you that I am stressed to the point where a neighbor confrontation MIGHT cause me to have a heart attack – well, it might be a slight exaggeration but I did have chest pains earlier today, so – I went outside and said, “HI HOW ARE YOU I HAVEN’T TALKED TO YOU IN A WHILE” and then not only did this remind her that I am a human being, but we both had a chance to bitch about our shared nemesis – the landlord.

“Sorry about that, ma’am,” she said in her monotone (which also had a slight twang, curious for Pennsylvania) and slipped away to retrieve it. And then, “Sorry again, ma’am,” as she set it down in front of me.

“I hate that she keeps calling me ma’am,” I said sadly, really driving in the nail of a weekend full of reminders that I’m a fucking old ass bitch with a kid on his way to college. I hated this weekend. I mean, it was fun, but with an underlying, foreboding sense of mortality.

Dude, I will say this was a great grilled cheese though. The rye bread was pretty substantial. Not as rye-full as I would have liked but there is nothing worse than going to a restaurant and getting served a flat-AF grilled cheese on white bread that looks like two abnormally-shaped Wonder slices that were stepped on first.

“She never brought my coleslaw,” Henry muttered, probably knowing that we wouldn’t care but I had to laugh because our server was SO QUICK to solemnly point out, “Coleslaw’s gonna be extra then,” when he also asked for fries. He said that was FINE but maybe she was just trying to save him monies.

When she came back to half-assedly check on us and ask if we needed anything, Henry barked, “Coleslaw.”

Literally, just “coleslaw” nothing else, Chooch and I were dead.

“SHE HATES US SO MUCH,” he cried and Henry, with a twitch of his mustache, said, “I DON’T REALLY CARE,  I ORDERED COLE SLAW AND I WANT IT.”

Wow, calm down, Sergeant Side Dish.

Anyway, she brought him his coleslaw and then practically ran away. Chooch and I were wheezing because she had coleslaw hanging over the side of the bowl, like she just slopped it there with her bare hands. I wished she had dumped it on his head, but alas, no vinegar-y highlights were administered on this day.

I think my favorite part was when Chooch watched her set an empty pitcher under the beverage thing, hit the water button, and then walk away.

“No way is she coming back in time for that,” Chooch said, and then all three of us were transformed into water-pouring spectators. It was exciting! We were downright giddy over it. From my vantage, I couldn’t see our waitress but Chooch said she was fully out of sight, definitely not making it back in time.

It was JUST ABOUT TO SPILL OVER when the hostess came in from around the corner, started to walk past it, but then backtracked and turned it off RIGHT BEFORE IT OVERFLOWED. “Were you guys watching this?” she asked, totally busting us. Chooch and I guiltily nodded (Henry was probably still trying to figure out what we were looking at) and then she started cracking up. “Oh, this happens all the time!” she said, trying to play it off. “Good thing there’s this grate under it!”

And we were like, “Yeah, hahaha.”

o.O

Henry was in such a hurry to get out of here, but I was like, “WAIT! I need a t-shirt!” Because as you know, collecting t-shirts from stupid restaurants we eat at while on road trips is my new “magnet collection.”

“Jesus Christ,” Henry started bitching under his breath immediately when I cried, “PINK, SMALL!” and then I resumed paparazzi stance because our server was due to come bursting out of the kitchen with a plate of mistakes at any minute.

“Oh my god, you are SUCH a creep,” Chooch scoffed, but I know one day when we’re telling his kids about this at Christmas, at Trudy’s feet (that’s where I picture Future Granda Erin telling stories to her Future Grandchildren, one of whom is always a squirrel in my imagination) he’ll be happy to have photo exhibits to go along with these tales.

Also, the lady in the bandanna tunic is the one who busted us watching for a water pitcher foul.

The back of my new shirt LOLOL.

Also, I tried to get Henry and Chooch to pose for a deranged selfie in front of the diner’s mirrored facade, but they both said, “Fuck no,” and ran to the car.

There were people sitting right on the other and Henry was like, “THOSE PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO EAT, CAN YOU NOT!?”

:)

And that’s all. Then we continued our drive home. Got in around 9PM.

Every so often*, I go through some boxes of old photos, always on the hunt for ones that I want to frame, post on here, share with family, rub in Chooch’s face (he hate hate hates my storied childhood, lol). I recently found this one of my aunt Sharon, me, and my Pappap posing in front of the Leaning Tower of Pisa back in 1989 and I knew I had to keep it out of the box because Henry and I were recently watching someone’s travel vlog in Pisa and I was questioning whether or not I ever went INSIDE the tower because when I googled, it appears that it’s been closed to the public for quiet some time.

*(Approx. 3x a week, honestly lol.)

So today I was inspired to dig out the ol’ vacation journal and see what 10-year-old me wrote (IN YELLOW INK, APPARENTLY) about this moment of my life, and it appears that YES, I did go inside the tower, phew, now I have something else to rub in Chooch’s face.

Anyway, here’s a little transcription of the super informative words I wrote on August 30, 1989. :/

TODAY IS GRANDMA’S BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and a google more. We went to breakfast and now we’re on the bus going to Pisa. We saw the Leaning Tower of Pisa after lunch. Me and Sharon walked up to the top. Well, not the very top. (Sharon was afraid to.) Then we finally ate lunch! Thank goodness (for Chef Boyardee). We ate at the turnpike.  Then we went to the hotel. It’s called the Hotel Cavalieri. Then we ate dinner with the tour. It was like a buffet. It was very good. I didn’t like desert [sic]. Then we went to Pappap’s room & sang happy birthday to grandma and had a mixed fruit strudel (fig newton almost). Then we went to bed.

WOW. I FEEL LIKE I WAS THERE ALL OVER AGAIN, DON’T YOU?? Drowning in detail over here.

Some thoughts:

1. I prob thought I was tres cool for using the word “google.” I wonder if I had just learned it from Highlights.
2. All of those exclamations were done in BUBBLE-STYLE, thank you very much.
3. So…did we eat two lunches?
4. I think by “turnpike” I meant that we ate at one of the really cool truck stop restaurants but I can’t think of the name now. Sharon used to love those places because if you bought whatever the “special” was, it came with a collectors plate.
   • LIKE THIS ONE.
     • According to that post, the highway restaurants were called AUTOGRILL
5. Can you imagine Little Orphan Chunkie up there in that photo not liking a dessert?? What was it, dirty prunes?
6. The Chef Boyardee shoutout, I probably was cracking up writing that. OK calm down Erin.
   • as if I don’t still crack myself up when I’m blogging, once a loser…etc.
7. August 30th and I wasn’t in school?? This must have been back in the good ol’ days when school didn’t start until after Labor Day.
8. WHAT ELSE DID WE DO IN PISA, ERIN?? I feel like we were there for a few hours. I have a vague memory of walking down a road full of locals shilling their wares and trying desperately (and succeeding a lot) to swindle tourists. I think I bought a coin purse?! Who the fuck knows, ugh.
9. All joking aside, revisiting these days of my youth seriously brings me so much joy. I really miss my Pappap, and my grandma and Sharon even though they were often, um, pretty cruel and emotionally damaging to me. Ha ha haaaaaaaa. Ha. :/

I want to try and do this more often: post an old travel picture, find the corresponding vacation journal entry, and then see if I can remember anything else to add. Obsessed with documenting memories? Join my support group. It’s currently just me sitting in pile of journals and photos, wet with tears. If you bring donuts, I’ll brew the coffee.

Here is where I eat crow –

(except not this crow)

(wait, I’m a vegetarian, so not ANY crow)

(WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE EATING CROW??)

– the hotel that I threw a fit over actually ended up being….pretty OK. Like, the room was big and modern shockingly, and the shower was very clean and nice, and it had a cute balcony that overlooked the Pigeon Stream or something, I forget what it’s called. It was literally babbling like they say in the fairy tales or whatever. Very quaint.

Lookit!

Here’s what it looked like from the street when we were en route to get our Gatlin’ on.

1. It was like 40 degrees but would Chooch wear pants and at the very least a hoodie? Obviously not.
2. I fucking swear to god Henry as an array of flannels but this is the only one he hadn’t vacuum-packed last spring and keeps re-wearing it because he can’t be bothered to deflate his winter clothes. Sigh.

Pretending he doesn’t belong to us.

GUYS. Guys guys guys guys. There was only really ONE THING I wanted to do while we were in Gatlinburg and that was revisit the Mysterious Mansion. Chooch and I went through the last time we were there in 2018 and it was SO GOOD that I think about it every Halloween season because I wish so badly we had something like this in Pittsburgh.

Aerial views while waiting in the foyer.

The ticket lady made us wait for “five minutes” to see if anyone dared to join us. A group of ladies and their annoying preteen girls approached at one point and one of the moms came in to ask questions. She went back outside and relied whatever info she had gleaned and it turned into a dramatic tug of war because wahhh, the girls were too scared, etc etc. They lingered outside the house for a good while and the ticket lady called out from her window-nook, “Let’s just wait a minute and see what these people are going to do.”

Finally, they retreated and I was tres relieved (lol, I used to say everything was tres this and tres that in middle school for no good reason other than I probably learned it from Sassy). As the lady was finally reading us the rules and letting go through the turnstile into the formal waiting room, two guys showed up and also bought tickets. I was pissed at first until they joined us and I realized that they were adults, maybe young 30s, and as Chooch said, kind of like my brother Corey. They ended up being great companions for our tour through this fucked up house, which requires lots of hands-on action, searching for hidden doors, etc.

I won’t give anything away because there is one thing that this place does that is different from any other haunt I’ve been to and it’s FUCKING JARRING, but for a haunt to have only 2 or 3 scare actors yet still make grown men jump is a true fucking feat. I just want to give a shout out to the Ringu-esque girl and the clown for being the real MVPs, and when I say that clowns usually don’t scare me…

DAMN this one got me GOOD. Like, 87 times. And then I think I imprinted on him.

“Do you think he thought I was pretty??” I breathlessly asked Henry after we left the house, with the clown leering at us from the exit.

“Sure, Erin,” Henry sighed.

:(

Things I didn’t take pictures of:

• Walking to the main drag of Gatlinburg where Henry gave Chooch $40 to buzz off into an arcade while we did a cider tasting at the Tennessee Cider Company (I think this was the name?). Dude. I cannot hold any sort of alcohol anymore, which is perfectly fine with me because I truly don’t care that much about drinking, but after the second sampling, everything just tasted like lighter fluid to me, even though I am first and foremost a cider gal. Not to be a HIPSTER about it, but I was totally drinking cider (Strongbow for life) before it became trendy and…everywhere. Anyway, we had a hysterical cider-slinger assisting us and two other couples. We snagged 6 bottles (3 for gifts, three for us) and everyone who bought at least 2 got a free bottle of peanut butter cider and um, I can see why they were giving it away. Everything we sampled was delicious, but this tasted like smelling a scratch-n-sniff sticker while drinking…blank alcohol. Do not recommend. I honestly preferred the OG plain-ass apple flavor.
• Then, Chooch popped into and was like, “Oh cool, you’re still here getting drunk anyway here are the pointless things I won at the arcade also I lost $20.” This got Henry’s attention. “You’re kidding,” he said. “Nope. I have no idea how it fell out of my pocket. It’s because I left my wallet at the hotel.” Then Henry called him an asshole really loud (not that loud, actually, but he did use his “I’m kind of in a loud bar environment and want to make damn sure my son knows he’s being called an asshole” voice-volume. Then Chooch asked for the key to the hotel now that he had “no money and nothing else to do” and the skulked away. “Wow,” I said. “He’s way more honest than I was at that age. I never would have admitted to losing cash! I would have been like, ‘Hi here I am, back with these two prizes that cost $40 at the arcade!'” I mean, even if he hadn’t lost the $20, he still would have lost the $20 in the games.
• Then we walked the rest of the side of the road we were on. It was SO FUCKING CROWDED. You couldn’t get near the bar in the moonshine tasting places, and the line to ride the cable car had half a block’s worth of sidewalk congested to the point where we had to keep stepping into the street. This was not how I remembered it last time we were there, which was also the weekend after Thanksgiving!

New location: other side of the street.

Christmas dogs!

The best parts of Gatlinburg IMO are the little squares tucked away from the main drag. They’re these adorable little courtyards with fountains and specialty shops away from all the MAGA SWAG and MOONSHINE and RIPLEYS BELIEVE IT OR WHO GIVES A FUCK. (Honestly, how much stake does Ripleys have in Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge??) One of the courtyards had a place called FRIAR’S DONUTS and it called to me. Not so much because I was craving a donut (although I could use a sweet carb to sponge up the cider in my gut) but because FRIAR and I saw from the doorway that they had MERCH.

“Oh, I KNEW IT. We have to go inside because I want a magnet!” I cried. “But you have to buy a donut too because then it just looks weird if we only buy a magnet.” This was one of the few times Henry didn’t question my logic because MMMMM, ME EAT DONUT NOW!!!!!! MMMM!

This guy looked so much like Henry’s son’s Blake’s BFF Artie, who also is one of Henry’s drivers at the Faygo Factory! He calls Henry to chat way more than any of Henry’s actual sons, which is hilar to me

A FRIAR AND HIS DONUTS.

We split a glazed and it was CLASSIC tasting. Like, it tasted like a donut my Pappap probably ate at Mr. Donut in the 70s with his drywall employees. Do you know what I mean? Like a genuine donut that knows its role and isn’t trying to be something it’s not. I would go back for more donuts next time we’re in town, for sure, and actually – was this open Sunday morning because I would have preferred another glazed over the meh hotel breakfast we had…

Although I was purposely having a meh breakfast because I was saving myself for the DOLLYWOOD CINNAMON BREAD LATER THAT DAY. More on that later, but I might need to take a break here for a second and stare at the ceiling with my tongue drooping out the side of my mouth as I recall the flavor fiesta in my mouth….

Taffy puller lost in thought.

We also bought some delicious cookies from a very friendly pregnant lady at some cookie place and an assortment of moonshine chocolate from a super bored young guy who was 100% wasn’t trying to make a sale in an empty store in the corner of the FRIAR’S DONUTS courtyard. I thought we were just going in to sample them but Henry was like OH TWIST MY ARM, WHY DON’T YOU and bought a box of 10 and I mean, they were fine but not $20-some worth of fine.

We walked back to the hotel on a much quieter back street, collected Chooch, and set off to do a mountain coaster but all of them were like SO CROWDED that you could barely even pull into the parking lots, so instead we went to a gas station to get beverages (Henry got some smirnoff mixed drink thing in a can and I was like WHO ARE YOU) and then we went back to the hotel, watched Friends as is our hotel routine no matter what (or Golden Girls!) and then got some rest in preparation for a full day of DOLLYWOOD!

(But yeah, if you ever go to Gatlinburg, do the haunted house!!!! DO NOT DO THE RIPLEYS ONE!!! If you see a haunted attraction on the main strip of Gatlinburg, THAT IS NOT IT. The one you want is on a back street, you have to cross over the creek via a pedestrian bridge, and the haunted house butts up against a hillside. Dude, you gotta go.)

If I was a POSER, I would skip the part of Saturday where we came down from the mountain and went to our hotel in Gatlinburg and the sight of it from the parking lot alone made me throw a fit because IT LOOKED SKETCHY so I cried about how the whole weekend was awful and I just wanted to go home and Henry was like NO and I was like YES and Chooch was like *here we go* and then Henry called my bluff and said FINE and started to “drive home” and we made it as far as Pigeon Forge, past the signs for Dollywood, when I screamed, “PULL OVER, I AM GOING TO FIND MY OWN HOTEL” and Henry was like “OK YOU DO THAT” and Chooch was like *this is gonna be good* and I “found a hotel” in Pigeon Forge and Henry was like, “OK LET’S GO CHECK MOM INTO HER HOTEL” and I was like “OK but before I confirm my reservation, can we please eat lunch.”

And that’s how we ended up at Mellow Mushroom, which is tradition (4x makes it so), and then we all had a big laugh over The Fight while shoveling delicious pizza into our mouths.

And then Chooch told me my smile is just as fake as my voice.

I ALWAYS GET THIS ONE, it’s their mushroom pie and it is delectable. The waiter (super friendly chap in a cowboy hat who Henry originally thought was faking his southern twang but I don’t think so) agreed that it’s the best one.

Pretty uneventful (BUT FILLING AND DELICIOSO) lunch, which was actually welcome considering the stressful morning and high-octane temper tantrum of mine. It was nice to just sit in a booth and speak gently to each other. (Gently? Eh, we were still probably being assholes to each other but probably with more good humor and less vitriol.)

Look, so happy and fed! Hanger squashed. Real smiles! People walking by were laughing because we were laughing and this actually happened another time too, according to Henry. “That lady was laughing because she saw you laughing,” he said, slightly concerned.

After lunch, we went to the Old Mill …. something. Somehow, after two trips to this area, we had never known about this! I just happened to see it from the window when I was still sulking on the way to lunch, after the HOTEL HULLABALOO.

Look how beautiful! Once we crossed the bridge, I immediately recognized a bunch of spots from the In The Loop travel vlogs from Pigeon Forge. Legend and Molly are huge Pigeonheads (that sounded good at the time) so it all started to come back to me.

We checked out a soap shop and instead of getting local soap, Chooch got a mass-produced brand name (Duke Cannon) bar of Pumpkin Spice Latte soap. I mean, you do you, Chooch, I guess.

Metal-working. Other people were taking pictures so I felt like I should too, but then I realized they were taking pictures of their family members who were metal-working with the professionals.

Next, I bought some local jams for Xmas gifts at one of the Old Mill shops. Surprisingly, this area wasn’t too outrageous people-wise for a Saturday afternoon, so we had a pretty pleasant time

We stopped in this alleged cat house but there were only THREE CATS TO BE FOUND. And then just a bunch of cat art and people clothes with cats on them. It was disappointing except for the actual cats we got to see.

Some cafe was next door. I had a pretty good apple cider chai.

By now, I was fed *and* caffeinated so I was feeling even better about life.

This picture actually became very useful a few nights later when we were back home in Pittsburgh and I lurched forward on this couch. “WAIT, WHERE ARE MY JAMS?” I exclaimed.

“……………..um,” Henry stammered.

I ran out to the car to check, we checked our luggage, but NO JAM. NO FUCKING JAM!! I started to think it was my fault. I vaguely remembered setting the bag down when Chooch and I were sitting in those adirondack chairs in the cafe.

But then I was going through my pictures and cried out, “A HA!!!! YOU WERE CARRYING THE BAG AFTER THE CAFE!” So we had to have lost it somewhere between that bridge and our car. There were THREE more shops we went to before leaving: a nut place, a candy place, and a gaming place.

But as soon as I showed Henry this picture, he said, “I set it down in that planter behind Chooch when I took your picture.

Fuck.”

I was already mad at him because he took the stupid picture from the wrong angle (the mill was to the left!!!) so this dumb picture ended up costing me $20 in lost goods.

I know, it’s not A LOT of money, but it’s not….NOT a lot. And it sucks, especially because I bought the jam with the intention of tucking them in gift bags for some friends.

AT LEAST HENRY MADE SURE HIS CANDY SAFELY MADE IT BACK TO PITTSBURGH.

And Chooch’s stupid soap! I should have made him carry my jam too!

Anyway, I can’t remember the name of this game store but the guys working there were FANTASTIC. They treated Chooch like a prince and when he asked for suggestions, one of the was like “WALK WITH ME, M’LAD.” I mean, not in so many words. But yeah, I would recommend this place if you’re in the area and looking for a game to play on a rainy night in your hotel, or whatever!

Oh, and the nut place we went to was full of MAGA shit so I did NOT buy a magnet even though their logo was a bad ass squirrel.

Back to the jam! Henry emailed the jam place on a whim to see if anyone turned in the bag.

“No one would have done that!” I scoffed, because my faith in humanity is at an all-time low. I mean, that’s 100% something I would have done – and been super panicked about it too. “WE HAVE TO GET THIS JAM BACK IN THE RIGHT HANDS!” as I’m darting all around Pigeon Forge like Dolly Parton looking for her car in the lot after working 9to5. (Look, that and Steel Magnolias is pretty much as far as my Dolly knowledge goes, but I am sure thankful that she has a theme park!)

“You never know, being the south and all,” Henry reasoned. “It’s worth a shot.”

WOULD YOU BELIEVE that the jam store emailed him and said that they weren’t aware of any misplaced jams being returned, but they would check with the managers of the other stores in the square AND ONE OF THE STORES CAME BACK AND SAID THAT YES, SOMEONE HAD BROUGHT IT TO THEM!

Ugh I’m so pissed that I didn’t realize it was missing while we were still there. BUT they were kind enough to issue me a refund (they also offered the option of shipping it to me but I didn’t feel like dealing with that). Whoever returned this is a true hero.

I mean OK it wasn’t like it was my WEDDING BAND (you can’t lose something you don’t have, lol) or my prosthetic thumb, but it was still a small weight off my shoulders.  I don’t have enough money for “It’s only money” to apply to me.

I did not thank Henry for getting me a refund because this was all his fault in the first place, so…

Anyway, after we left the gaming place, it was time to go back to Gatlinburg and check in.

“Don’t we have to drop Mum off at her hotel first?” Chooch deadpanned from the backseat.

Sigh.

I forgot that we brought “the good camera” to Florida with us last April because literally time it was used was the last day when we went to the Fountain of Youth. I was being lazy and didn’t feel like carrying it so Henry ended up sort of using it. Here are some pictures he took, which I didn’t know existed until I was using the camera on Sunday at the pie party and saw them when I was scrolling through the pictures. I know it was forever ago that we were there, but I wanted to post some anyway because it was such a fun trip and I still think about it a lot. Traveling with Henry and Chooch keeps getting better the older we all get even though we still HAVE OUR MOMENTS of cattiness, ha.

Speaking of getting older, one thing that I appreciate so much more now that I’m nearly middle-aged (am I already middle-aged??) is plants! I never would have given a shit about Florida’s vegetation back in the day but now that I’m a houseplant hoe bag, I had to run my fingers along every plant that I passed. I loved these ones and I have several similar plants in my house! Of course, they’re tough for me to keep happy since they’re tropical-y.  I was happy when I discovered these pictures on the camera and saw that  Henry took one of these!

There were all kind of crab-things in that water and it was creeping me out, bigly.

That bruise on my calf! What a temporary memento of all the insane coasters we rode on this trip.

The fact that we paid like $20pp or something to enter this sulfur water tourist trap and spent most of the time fucking around with the peacocks, pigeons, and squirrels is very on brand with the Appledale clan.

WHOA. AMAZING. 5 STARS.

***

We don’t have any road trips set in stone until Thanksgiving, so I will be occupying my mind with haunted house-hopping and counting down to  the NCT127 show in Newark (doesn’t count as a “fun road trip” because the drive to Newark, and Newark itself, is never fun).

I love fall so so so much but a bitch is depressed that summer is over, sitting here shivering in leggings and a hoodie. :( I was just going to whine about how I haven’t ridden a rolleroaster in x-amount of time, but then I realized it was literally less than a week ago, lol. STILL.

(As I was writing this I had no idea that St Augustine was affected by Hurricane Ian. I hope everyone is ok!)

The rest of the evening in the Dells was spent doing spooky stuff. Well, some might find the word “hokey” to be more accurate lol. Shockingly, the Dells is kind of like the dollar store knock off of a tourist trap town so while places like Pigeon Forge and ugh shit what is that main drag called in Niagara Falls? You know the one. CLIFTON HILL! While places like that gouge your wallet and practically start in on your organs, the Dells had a lot of really stupid attractions that were only $5! So since we had time to kill, we bit.

First, we went to the Haunted Mansion on the main drag. It was….a place. No live actors, nothing super memorable. When we came out, there was a group of people standing on the sidewalk, contemplating. “Was it any good?” they asked. I hesitated MAJORLY and I think that was all they needed, because I could see them glance at other but then I added, “I mean, there aren’t any scare actors in there or anything,” and they all collectively made a FUCK THAT air expulsion and walked away.

We made a quick stop to this river walk thing but didn’t go very far because Chooch was whining about wanting to go back to the room to charge his phone because god forbid he might some amazing message in the MEXICO SQUAD group chat, so we turned around just in time for some man to ask me, and I do mean me because he only locked eyes with me,  “Does this go down to the river?”

I shrugged stupidly and said I didn’t know, then mumbled, “WTF do I look like, the Wisconsin Dells docent??”

Oh I know what happened next – the big fight about ice cream. LOL.

Our hotel had coupons for $2 off this Ghost Outpost thing so we grabbed some and headed on over. I had seen this mentioned on various WHAT TO DO IN THE DELLS YouTube videos and had hoped it would be cool like the one in Gatlinburg.

NO! IT WAS SO STUPID! JUST LIKE THE LAST PLACE! The only good thing is that it ended up being only $3 a person with our SUPER 8 coupons lol.

I dunno what got into Henry but he was like, “Let’s do this one too” and so we walked over to the Lost Temple which…I have no idea wat the point was but it was dumb too. Super low quality but then suddenly, singing tree:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Erin Appledale (@ohhonestlyerin)

I just honestly have nothing else to say about these two places. Avoid them? There. Two word review!

Finally, it was time to check in for our 8:40 reservation on the GHOST BOAT! I can’t believe I got Henry to sign on to this because he usually like YOU TWO CAN DO IT, I’LL DROP YOU OFF. He really hates spending money on things like, Tight Wads Gonna Wad Tight, you know? But when we were at Mt. Olympus earlier that day, he was like OK FINE and this was like HOURS after I had originally suggested it, and not like right after one of my nagging sessions, so this tells me that it was on his mind of his own accord and that he secretly really must have wanted to do this.

Please note: this wasn’t like one of those $5 haunts – this was an actual river boat ride at night, with a haunted walk. I think it was around $40/pp so this was more of a splurge but when in Wisconsin Dells, amirite?!

First off, once we went inside the Ghost Boat waiting area, they took pictures of each group so I was really stoked because we don’t have many family pictures that aren’t selfies. There were long pew-like benches set up in a serpentine manner inside the room and we were told to go all the way down as far as we could and take a seat. I really liked this set-up because it was ORGANIZED and assured that you were going to get to board in order of arrival. Frequent visitors to this dumping ground of the Internet will note that I am notoriously high-strung when it comes to standing in line, getting good spots, losing my spot, dealing with line-jumpers, etc. So props to the Ghost Boat people for doing the Lord’s work on this one.

HOWEVER!! There was OF COURSE that ONE group who decided that they were going to just waltz right up to the front when it was time to stand up and have our tickets scanned so that we could then walk down to the loading area. They completely skipped past all of the benches and tried to cut through along the side but the ticket scanner, AKA MY HERO, was like “no can do, back of the line for you” and I actually did a fist bump out in the open because I feel like more often than not, people in that position just roll over for line-jumpers! This was a fairly big group too – I feel like there were 8 or so, some extended family sitch, I dunno.

I was happy because not only were we far enough ahead in line to sit on top of the boat, we also snagged the last row of three seats in the very back. I’m a back of the boat/bus/coaster type of bitch, as you know.

The boat ride portion was really fun! Well, for everyone else. For me, I was too busy obsessing over the semi-big spider that was on the move RIGHT NEXT TO ME. I couldn’t lean back and relax like everyone else – I had to sit twisted at an angle, with my back up against Henry’s side, never taking my eyes off the railing. Some spooky recording was playing, relaying the ghostly story of the lake or whatever, but I legit missed the whole thing, my arachnid focus was *that* intense.

However, I was aware of the part of the boat ride where the engine was cut off so that we could glide between a cavern thing which Henry just told me was basically THE DELLS. It was really cool yet incredibly eerie at night. The water sloshing against  the rock walls just added to the vibe, like we were in a live action horror film, at the point where something was going to go terribly awry. To be honest, this part alone was worth the price of the Ghost Boat.

I took this picture earlier that evening when we returned to the river walk and walked the whole way down (I can now go back in time and tell that man that no, it does not actually take you all the way down next to the water). The boat went all the way straight back into the trees and then the dell stuff happened. Henry said he looked at pictures of it online, daytime pictures, and the part where the boat slipped through was “actually really cool, we should do it during the day next time.”

HE SAID NEXT TIME. WE’RE GOING BACK, Y’ALL.

Anyway, the next part of the excursion had us docking and walking up a slight hill where we all gathered outside of a restroom. This bathroom break took FOREVER. It was so annoying. I also got stuck standing near the Line-Jumpers and that was annoying. They thought they were going to be FIRST but guess what? Where they were standing wasn’t actually the starting point of the trail –  it was off to the left and we had to walk down steps. So since I had been standing to the left of them, I got to go before them HA IT’S WHAT YOU DESERVE, ASSHOLES! While we were standing there talking to the guide, someone pointed out that there was a spider on some man’s back. He swept it off and then the guide STEPPED ON IT and I immediately panicked.

“What if that was my spider,” I hissed at Henry, who mumbled, “That was not your spider, wait, I thought you hated that spider?”

“I mean, yeah, but I also spent the whole boat ride trying to make sure it didn’t die and I feel horrible if I did all that just for some bitch to boot-stomp him!” I wailed.

“It wasn’t the same spider,” Henry sighed.

You guys, the actual haunted trail wasn’t exactly “scary” because our group had like 80 people, I swear to god, and the scare actors were fine and all but how scared can you really get when you’re in a group that large? We were toward the front of the group at least so that was good. Literally had no idea what was going on because it was dark, foggy, creepy blue lights were blinding us at every turn…but at some point we entered what literally felt like a cavern and I was seriously concerned about bashing my head off the side of a rock formation.

Henry was very concerned about the safety measurements of the walking portion of the Ghost Boat, as in, were there any?

“How long have they been doing these tours? It doesn’t seem very safe. I could easily see people getting seriously injured out there,” Henry said the next day in the car en route to the next destination. I mean, he’s not wrong. The couple in front of me didn’t realize there was a ramp to walk on and kept walking next to it, ground-level, which appeared to have some sort of drop-off next to it. They realized they were going the wrong way before they turned into lemmings walking off a ledge into a gorge.

I got singled out at one point as usual – no matter how big the crowd, they will always single me out. The person asked the little girl behind us if she knew me and Chooch’s names, and she said, “Um, Dylan and Elenor” and then when the ghost person asked Henry what they were, he said, “Dylan and Elenor” and the little girl was like, “OMG I WAS RIGHT??” and from that moment on, I became acutely aware of her presence and the fact that she never shut the fuck up. Lowkey hated her, especially because she kind of looked like RUTHIE from 7th Heaven.

UGH.

RUTHIE was so fucking annoying!

That who show was so fucking annoying!

We had to walk back the same way we came, which meant going through the weird cavern part again. Chooch said one of the scare actors hit her head on the rock and THE WAY THAT I AM NOT SUPRISED YO.

Of course it ended with a chainsaw guy, possibly the only chainsaw guy in the history of chainsaw guys that ever failed to scare me. Probably because before he went back and grabbed his chainsaw, he was casually walking along with the front of our group, talking to everyone. Of course RUTHIE turned on the dramatics though and screamed shrilly while pushing her way through all of us.

Ugh.

Back on the boat. It was a different boat so I had no way of checking for my spider. This time, the very last row of seats was just a two-seater, so we had to sit in the row directly in front of that. In hindsight, I wish Chooch and I had just grabbed that last row and made Henry sit somewhere else because TWO PEOPLE FROM THE LINE-JUMPER GANG sat there and they were so very utterly annoying. Definitely in their late teens/early 20s, and part of that generation that talks just to talk. Nothing either one of them said had any weight or meaning to it. Just lots of, “Yeah”s and “Same”s and at one point, the girl part of the duo talked about her sleeping preferences while the guy interjected grunts of agreement here and there. And they both had REALLY STUPID VOICES. Like, the voices of stupid people. Sorry if you think that’s mean BUT THIS BLOG IS A SAFE SPACE FOR ME TO PLUNK OUT MY HONEST THOUGHTS. These kids were fucking STUPID. Especially when they were trying to act like astrologists and the guy was like, “I watch <some science show> and am basically a scientist now.” SIGH.

These poor stars. They had so much to say about them.

Anyway, that was the whole boat ride back, trying so hard to not listen to their basic conversations but being unable to get away from it since they were talking at a volume 5x what was appropriate for a nighttime boat ride with strangers.

Then I made Henry pay $28 for a portrait package so now we have like 12 copies of this photo. Guess some lucky people will get one tucked inside this year’s Christmas card.

I do really like this picture even though we look like 3 strangers picked at random to stand in front of the Ghost Boat backdrop. AFFECTION? WHAT IS AFFECTION? I’m actually surprised that Chooch as least smiled but Henry looks like he’s our warden, ready to break out the taser the moment one of us tries to flee. Look at that balled-up fist!

The only glitch to our entire day in Wisconsin Dells was after the rootbeer museum when I had expressed a desire for ice cream. You would think that Henry and Chooch would know by now that my demands, especially ones that involve SCREAMS FOR ICE CREAM.

I had seen a sign for GELATO at one of the ice cream places on the main strip of the Dells, and had wanted to walk back and find it but CHOOCH was being a pain in the ass and peer-pressured me into going into a different ice cream place that was closer and it turns out it was just because he didn’t want to walk past this lady street performer again because she was making him uncomfortable (she was one of those statue people but didn’t do a very good job staying in character). The ice cream place was also a cafe and sandwich shop? I couldn’t tell what was going on there, but they had regular ice cream that you could get anywhere – like Hersheys or something – and then Henry said he didn’t want any and Chooch had just had a root beer float – I didn’t want to eat ice cream alone! So I left in dramatic fashion and speed-walked all the way to the parking lot. To be fair, the plan was already to go back to the hotel to rest because the next thing on our agenda didn’t start until 8:40 and we had two hours to kill.

I acted like a big crybaby on the way back to the hotel though because gotta stay on brand.

Anyway, we ended up going back out a bit earlier because there was a stupid haunted house I wanted to go to (MORE ON THIS SEPARATELY) and Henry was like, “Hey look, you can get your gelato afterward” because the same candy shop that I originally wanted to go to had another location right across the street from the dumb haunted house!

Chooch opted to wait in the car, probably was chatting with his Mexico Squad, so Henry and I went inside like we were impersonating a COUPLE ON A DATE. I guess Henry learned his lesson because he came prepared to place his own order so that I wouldn’t have to eat my cold treat alone like the true loser that I am.

So…I knew from first sight of the case that this was not going to be anything even close to traditional gelato. But nothing could have prepared me for the truly bizarre taste of my birthday cake and…what was my other flavor? Butter pecan maybe? gelato scoops.

It was truly alarming. The texture was like moist, frozen playdoh and the taste was SUGAR. And ARTIFICIAL. And FREEZER BURN. It was all of these things with a suggestion of whatever the flavors were supposed to me. Recommended to enjoy while thinking of your chosen flavor.

Tastes best with power of suggestion.

Somehow, it started to grow on me. I mean, I would never in my life go back there for a replay, but it wasn’t so grotesque that I couldn’t eat it. Henry had similar feelings with his choices, which I can’t remember now what they were. He had originally asked to try the banana but immediately wrote it off after realizing that it tasted like “cold nothing.” I’m glad he didn’t choose it too because the way it looked in the display case, it was wet and oozy like a pile of melted yellow popsicles. Totally unappealing.

“I mean I knew it wasn’t going to taste like real gelato because WISCONSIN but this also doesn’t taste like ice cream,” I said, holding a spoonful up to the light like my tastebuds had phoned my eyeballs for help decoding this gelato mystery.

For every scoop this place sells of fake gelato, an old man in Italy crashes a Moped.

Meanwhile, I was sitting in front of GREEN M&M and that was the third time in two days that she had come up in my life! WHAT DOES IT MEAN. One of the times was because one of the characters in a book I had just read admitted to thinking she was hot.

I guess I can see it….

On the way out, there were new suckers perusing the gelato case and I heard the scooper say, “It’s more like frozen yogurt.”

OK, that’s a very generous comparison.

Right after this, we went back to the main Dells area to prepare for our RESERVATION and when we walked past this REALLY COOL ICE CREAM SHOP that I somehow missed earlier, Chooch suddenly was ready for Ice Cream Part 2 and went in for a cone.

Dude, I was so pissed! I would have much preferred an ice cream cone from this place!!!

What an asshole.

Of course he ended up with ice cream on his shirt too right before our RESERVATION (I dunno why I’m acting like there is going to be some reveal, it was just a boat ride / haunted walk thing).

OK, this has been an ice cream interlude.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me but every time I sit down to recap Labor Day weekend, I start getting all wet-eyeballed and weirdly sentimental for something that JUST HAPPENED. Like, it’s barely even a memory yet?! I think time/age is really starting to terrorize me and I am hyper-aware of the fact that Chooch will soon be in college and definitely not trying to hop aboard the Oh Honestly Road Trip Express anymore. So I’m just trying to live my best life & do the most while we’re still a trio.

And sure, that means spraying dolla dolla bills into the mouths of some of the most questionable tourist traps in Wisconsin Dells! But first, food.

I sincerely don’t know what’s going on in this picture. We had just parked in a (shockingly free!) lot and had to cross over a busy street on a crosswalk with no traffic light – one of those HONOR SYSTEM pedestrian death traps where you’re supposed to step right out into oncoming traffic with all the confidence of someone who is not in a position to be pancaked onto the asphalt. I think I was probably yelling at Chooch here for not waiting for me. I HATE CROSSING STREETS!

Me: I want to kick this and break the glass.

Henry, somberly: You’d probably end up doing more time than he ever will.

Just like every other touristy town we’ve been to lately, Wisconsin Dells was chockful of disgusting Trump merch in all of the souvenir shops. So grotesque.

The first thing on our agenda was DINNER. Henry chose a bar called Monk’s because it had NOT JUST A VEGGIE BURGER, but a black bean burger as well. Hold me back.

We (and Chooch is not included in that collective, so you can hang up with CPS now thanks) rarely drink when we’re out but I felt inspired to get something so I chose this local blueberry beer and selected something that was banana-flavored for Henry even though it wasn’t what he wanted. I’m glad I chose the blueberry for myself because his tasted too beer-y. I mean, mine did too and I should have stuck with cider like I generally do but I felt like trying a BEER. It took me the whole entire meal to finish it and also I kept pouring it into the glass without angling it so the foam was overflowing and it was making Henry so uncomfortable, haha.

Chooch, meanwhile, was bitching because all he wanted a grilled cheese but they didn’t have it. C’mon, Monk’s – THIS IS WISCONSIN and you can’t make a kid a fucking grilled cheese?

So he got the veggie burger and I got the black bean burger which came on a pretzel bun and had a tortilla chip layered in it. It was pretty good. The waffle fries were good too. It was all good. Except for the asshole kids who belonged to the table next to us but instead sat at the arcade games situated IMMEDIATELY behind Henry and me. They kept pounding on the buttons and making this terrible music play and I was really pissed off. Their lazy asshole mother just sat at their booth staring off into space, periodically picking up the SIPPY CUP that the BABY BROTHER kept pelting onto the floor.

I was getting loudly passive aggressive about my dislike of this situation until the mom finally caught on and called the idiot kids back to the table. God they were so annoying. Thankfully they left before our food came but still – it was enough to put me on edge.

Chooch was mad because the parents left a really small tip too.

Oh! And the waitress had to run outside and try to catch them because of course they left the SIPPY CUP on the floor despite all the times MOM and what appeared to be GRANDPA hollered to the older boys to PICK UP YOUR BROTHER’S SIPPY CUP.

They always bond over claw machines for some reason. Chooch can be deep in the bowels of Teenaged Surly Town when suddenly he’s presented with a crisp dollar to lose in a claw machine and it’s like someone pressed a button in the nape of his neck to reanimate him.

They did not win anything.

Monk’s Bathroom Selfie.

Calling his mommy.

We went out the back exit and I was oddly excited about this.

Then we stumbled upon this little courtyard which reminded me a bit of Gatlinburg, TN crossed with Sugarcreek, OH. The cuckoo close was telling the story of the pied piper!!

Then we went to the root beer museum! Well, we didn’t actually go into the museum portion because THERE WAS AN ADMISSION FEE god forbid and none of us cared that much but I’m certain my dad would have forked over the cash for it (it was only around $5 I think) because he is OBSESSED with pop. He always had glass bottles of Barq’s stocked in a vintage soda machine when I was growing up. He probably still does!

We got a flight to share and they were all wonderful – I rarely drink soda/pop/sugary bevs but I do love me some root beer. I admittedly could not tell the difference between any of these until the SODA JERK (is that what soda jerks are!?) described them to us and when he said that one of them had honey in it, I could suddenly taste the honey.

I’m real easy like that. My mind is a whore ready to be finessed and wooed by any ol’ John.

Chooch, meanwhile, opted for a root beer float except that he doesn’t like root beer? So every time he’d get down to where there was just ice cream left, the SODA JERK would snatch his cup and refill it. Chooch was not immediately OK with this but then he went with it and kept trying to get the guy to give him a different root beer but the SODA JERK got real weirded out by this request and muttered about not usually mixing root beer.

I mean, it’s root beer, not chemicals in a beaker, but OK my guy.

Then he and Henry bonded bigly over the Amish farm in Landcaster that sells really gross homemade root beer in unmarked jugs from their barn. I vaguely remember buying a small jug of this years ago and thinking it was totally poisonous.

So that was a fun pitstop! I still like root beer just the regular amount though. It wasn’t life-changing for me. I haven’t enrolled in any Dad’s secret societies or anything.

Yet.

Can you believe that Henry didn’t humblebrag about moving around pallets of FAYGO ROOT BEER as his OCCUPATION?

Total missed op.

Henry gave Chooch a dollar to put in the stupid animatronic outhouse next to the TRUMP fortune teller thing. It was a total waste of money and I know you just slapped your knee and screamed in disbelief.

Stop back for PART 2 when I tell you about the haunted shit we did next. Henry was super amenable on this day for some reason and let us actually do stuff.

Originally for Labor Day Weekend, I tossed around the idea of going to Missouri to hit up the Six Flags and Cedar Fair parks out that way. But then when Chooch was in Mexico, he made friends with a group of kids and some of them live near-ish Chicago, so I was like NO, WHAT ABOUT SIX FLAGS GREAT AMERICA and Henry was like “Whatever” so I told Chooch to ask his Illinois-based squad members if they wanted to meet up with him there and the two main girls were like YES DEF and now you’re like OK cool, but what does Wisconsin have to do with this.

WELL IF YOU WOULD HOLD ON A SEC, I WILL TELL YOU!!

Way back in the beginning chapters of the Erin & Henry saga, we had gone to some farm town in Wisconsin for a hard rock festival, specifically because one of my favorite bands of all time, COLD, was performing. This was one of our first road trips, pre-Chooch, back when we both worked at the shitty MEAT PLACE.

Driving back through Wisconsin on the way home, I have a VIVID memory of passing a giant Trojan horse with a go-cart track built around and through it, and then as I looked around, I saw ROADSIDE ATTRACTIONS everywhere. Approx. 87 road signs were telling me that we were in WISCONSIN DELLS.

I begged Henry to stop but he was like, “ALL THIS SHIT COSTS MONEY” and kept driving so I threw an epic fit and at the next rest stop, I got out and sat in the backseat where I proceeded to hurl insults and death threats at Henry while assassinating his character in my vacation journal.

It remained a point of contention for YEARS.

Then, once we eased into our current COASTER ENTHUSIAST niche, my favorite coaster vloggers started posting MT OLYMPUS content. MT OLYMPUS is the amusement park with the TROJAN HORSE!! And not only that, but they have 4 wooden coasters that are infamous for being weird and ride-at-your-own-risk.

“Henry, hear me out,” I started after we had decided for sure that we were going to Six Flags Great America. “What if first we drive THRU Illinois and go to WISCONSIN.” Henry bristled at this suggestion, but I prevailed. I barely even have to work on him anymore, he’s like permanently worn down.

We left last Friday as soon as I was done with work at 5:30 and drove until nearly midnight, stopping for the night at an actually not so bad Baymont in FT. Wayne (I think?) Indiana. I didn’t live blog because nothing too exciting was happening – Chooch slept in the backseat and Henry and I briefly went down the screamo/post-hardcore rabbit hole on Spotify because Pierce the Veil has a new song but after about an hour, my earholes were begging for Hangul to hug on to, so I put NCT127 back on.

I can’t stray from Korea for too long!

All I remember about the hotel is that there was a gross drunk couple laughing sleazily on a bench outside of the lobby while Henry was taking forever to check in and they were making me so uncomfortable. Also, there was a weird wrap-around balcony above the lobby that I was obsessed with but Henry and Chooch thought it was dumb.

We got up super early Saturday morning to continue the drive to Wisconsin. It was about 4 hours I think. Originally, we were going to detour to Green Bay because there is a free park there that has a coaster called Zippin Pippin that was Elvis Presley’s favorite coaster. It’s a moderate bucket list coaster for me, but we ended up scrapping the idea that morning because we wouldn’t get to the Dells until that evening which seemed dumb. Also, it’s for the best, because it was raining up that way and for all we know, the coaster may not even have been running!

I got really excited when we drove past Chicago. I love that skyline so much, but then I was just instantly sad because I wish we had time to spend there. I have been in and around Chicago so many times but only really did semi-touristy stuff once so I would really like to go back with NO OTHER AGENDA – no concerts, no amusement parks. Just Chicago stuff.

FUN FACT: Did you know that back in 2001, I was considering moving to Chicago?

Then I met Henry. Sigh.

Ugh.

Anyway!

It was dreary all day in Illinois and Wisconsin! We drove through some heavy rain for a rain but luckily it wasn’t raining at all in the Dells, it was just chilly and overcast all day. I was kicking myself because I usually always bring a light jacket with me, especially to put on in the car because I’m always freezing, but I packed REALLY STUPIDLY this time around, and ended up bringing a bunch of stuff that I didn’t want to wear BUT I did stuff in one long-sleeved shirt in there, thank god. So I changed in a gas station parking lot.

Wow, such important details.

Before I changed though, we stopped at Mouse House for cheese curds and souvenirs. Henry took that terrible picture up there and we had a moderate argument about how much he sucks at taking pictures.

Then it was Mt. Olympus time! Which I will get to in a separate post, so we can just call this THE PROLOGUE.

[Also, this was a new “state credit” for Chooch, lol. I started to count all of the states he’s been to but I have an NCT127 vlog on (Fill It Up ep 2!) and it’s distracting me so I keep losing count.]