[Sketch Trip America] Episode 12: You Corrupt Dragon! Here Comes the Ruler of Justice!

Missouri

Sinclair

On Rt 266(part of Rt 66 at some point in time) in Paris Spring,

20 miles west from Springfield.

"Wait! A ton of old stuff!"

"Stop the car!"

We've passed several Rt 66 museums along the way. Museums were full of shiny things that were long removed from where it belonged. For travelers in pursuit of old times, museum full of shiny object the time had been removed from wasn't very impressive. What finally stopped us was this tiny little gas station on the side of a dirt flying winding road. To be exact, it used to be a gas station and now it stood with all kinds of objects and cars with time hammered onto them cluttered all around it.

The name of the gas station is Sinclair. Opened in 1926.

Sinclair was filled with things that made one wonder what they were once used for. The gas pump was one of them. It took me a while to figure out that the scale on the transparent tank is to tell how much of the gasoline was extracted from the tank. One would watch the scale on the tank to see how much they needed to pay. Watching at it, I thought this analog method might have created some dispute over whether there were more or less gasoline for what one had paid. As soon as the scale became numbers, there might have been less disputes like that. Then, I remembered that some gas station owners tweaked the pump so that meters would show slightly more than what was actually pumped out and and made profit over time. This kind of news was quite frequent as I recall. Staring at the tank, I pondered on what had happened. When the tank became no longer transparent, the way to check it with our own eyes disappeared altogether. Then, there came meters in the place of our eyes. The numbers on meters changed at constant rates and speed. It was digital. People lost the means to check as the spectacular array of numbers changing, and soon, digital became trustworthy. The truth hid behind the splendor forever unchecked.

This transparency of an old analog gas pump, small neighborly disputes over few pennies, were not a mere section of frugal life of bygone days. It was a weapon that protected lives of people from the giant wrong-doings. The scales on the transparent tank of an old gas pump, was the mystical sword that would fend off the evil dragon called corruption. I thought we shouldn't let the truths in life turn into something else that's invisible. I suddenly wanted to raise the sword of justice high and mighty.

You corrupt dragon, I will slay you with the edge of my ruler of justice!

"Sumi, I'll lure his head and you stab in between his butt cheek!"

"Okay. You dragon of corruption, here comes the big wedgie of justice!"

Bzzzzzzz, zchunk, zchunkkk! Bzzzzzzik!

Until the day the charade of deception finally disappear!

Visit Jingoogk's original blog in Korean here:  http://blog.naver.com/hwangjinkook/220184427827

          

[Sketch Trip America] Episode 11: The Genuine Route 66

The Genuine Rt 66 begins: 

Day 5. Missouri

6:40 AM. I was woken up by fresh and crisp early morning air.  I went to sleep in my underwear with no blanket but this morning, I found myself under a blanket. Sumi must've covered me up, but she wasn't there next to me. She must be up and doing something already. It is not uncommon that I wake up and Sumi is not around. She tends to get out and do something as soon as she opens her eyes in the morning, such as walking, taking photographs or etc.

I, on the other hand, was still wrapped in the blanket in the tent, while looking outside through the entrance. Beyond this thin layer, morning light was getting brighter and there were various bird calls, meandering fog, sweet smelling soil, and pungent smell of phytoncide that surrounding trees emit. This mixture of air was seeping through tent interior. Even a five star hotel couldn't provide this. I was beginning to feel the positive aspects of camping. If you set aside little bit of effort and discomfort, it is simply much better to camp than to stay at a conventional lodging. Fresh air and the positive energy from the forest began to enter my body. I may be turning into a god of the forest. My body started to elevate into the air. This must be levitation that people talk about. I was afloat with the air of the forest, then I heard a voice coming from Sumi.

"What'cha doing sitting in your undies?"

My short levitation ended with her voice and from god's realm I landed back in the human realm. Swoop and squat. Sumi had gone to take shower when the bathroom was empty.

We had breakfast with Doen-Jang Jjigae(bean paste stew) and beef chili paste and made coffee afterwards. Daily routines that happen in the mornings in the woods are also the best part of camping. While I was thinking this, stars and stripes pattern on the paper cups came into my sight. Half jokingly, I said to Sumi,

"Oh, this is so American!"

Sumi replied piteously.

"There's nothing un-American about any of these."

Right. But then, I realized I hadn't seen much of Korean national flag patterns on anything when I was in Korea. Growing up, national flag was something that hung only from the flag pole. To me, it was refreshing to see American flag pattern on various uniforms of American Olympic athletes. American flag patterns on paper cups reminded me that I was far away from Korea.

For our morning work, Sumi painted the signs she saw yesterday and I drew Sumi in the campground as the backdrop. It was a beautiful sight.

"Now, this is truly American" I said jokingly, again.

"Stop it, you're a yankee to the bones." Sumi laughed hilariously then continued.

"You know, I bet Americans wouldn't know what I meant by yankee."

She's right. When you say, 'yankee' in Korea and 'yankee' in America, they mean two different things.

Yankee

The term 'Yankee' has many origins, but one notable is the Dutch origins. Since there were many Dutch colonists in New England, the Dutch given names Jan("John") was common. Then this had grown to include non-Dutch colonists as well in the area. Now, the term Yankee is to call people from New England or the Northeast, but outside the US, Yankee simply means anyone that's from America. Someone from the South or the Midwest might be taken aback if called a Yankee, but outside the US, a Yankee just means any American. However, this can sometimes be used as somewhat of a derogatory word, so it should be used cautiously.    

 

Now that we started talking 'American' things, I'd like to talk about a real American camping habit. In last year's Blue Ridge camping and this year's trip, I've noticed that Americans love to make camp fires. Even in the middle of summer, people get up in the morning and start the fire in the pit. As soon as there's a fire, everyone gathers and starts chatting around it. It is almost as if it were a ritual, or right out of movies when cowboys camp out in the wild west and the first thing they do is make a fire. Maybe it is the remnants from the old culture, or simply that people watched too much western movies like me. Making fire when camping must be a code engrained in genes of camping and leisure in every American.

After finishing some creative work, we started to pack around 10 AM. We continued to pack down stuff every day and after the fourth day, it was at an optimal level. Efficient packing and daily schedule gave us valuable time in the morning to do more artwork. Within an hour, we left Meramec campground. Good-bye, Meramec Cavern campground! You were alright, just a little disorderly. Kids ran around 'till very late and the guy who laughed silly through the night was pretty funny, though. Thanks to all, anyway!

We got on the Interstate 44. This section of Route 66 runs side by side with the Interstate for a while so we decided to cover more distance and enjoy the view of Rt 66.

Once out of city, highways look very different from the highways in Korea.

"When do we get on highway?"

"We are already on a highway."

"Really? This isn't a regular road?

When I first came to the States, I had asked Sumi this question. Being used to highways in Korea, to me, highways should be at least 4-5 lanes and covered in think concrete chunks. However, the highways in the States were mostly like the one I'm on now. Near cities, highways look like that of Korea, but once past the city boundary, instead of concrete median, a wide lawn spreads in between the lanes going opposite ways. There are usually two lanes on both ways, one for driving and the other for passing. Most drivers seemed clear on this concept and usually kept the passing lane open and drove on the right lane. Sumi said that people are better about the passing lanes in the eastern US in general, probably because there are less lanes on highways than the west or midwest. People know it by heart that the rules are there to their advantage. On the other hand, places like L. A., the drivers are relatively more reckless in changing lanes and driving on all 6-7 lanes all together. Shortage of something made the standard high for some people, I thought to myself. Sumi, of course, didn't forget to mention that Korean drivers are no better than L.A. drivers. I remembered a news commentary from few years back that people that do not know the concept of the passing lane outnumber the ones who know this basic driving rule.

Though, only two lanes, driving amongst calm drivers next to grassy knolls made me enjoy the drive. But when noon came, strong rays started to heat up the pavement.

The temperature in the Midwest was getting over 100 degrees and we'd been driving several hours on sun-scorched highway. Our destination wasn't anywhere near. Highway was boring to drive in the same way as in the US or in Korea, and our sweat-soaked bodies under afternoon heat had long forgotten about the fun or excitement of a road trip. Then, suddenly, a couple biker women appeared before our eyes. They had matching jackets and their long pony tails flowing in wind behind them like scarves. They've got to be the Rt 66 travelers. Their flowing pony tails perked us up instantly and we were reminded again that we also are travelers on the Route 66.

One thing we got from this boring drive that had some value was this Rt 66 map of Missouri from the visitor center. All sorts of places of interests was listed in detail. It is hard to get this kind of information elsewhere. Another thing we got from our highway drive was….

This half-burnt and acned face that I got from driving from east to west for few days. We alternated driving, but the side that exposed to the sun was always the left side of face because we were heading little bit southwest.

And because Sumi insisted on wearing tank top or sleeveless shirt, she also got half of her face, left arm and knee burnt.

We couldn't just head back east to avoid getting burnt only on the left side. So we endured it and kept on driving under the scorching afternoon heat. Sumi had tuned on NPR and in the radio show, they said the nude models in Paris were on strike. In Paris, the city operates figure drawing classes for its people, so the models were hired by the government. I wondered what it would be like to see nude models on strike, while we drove on Interstate 44. We also couldn't have imagined that in a few hours from here that we'd be pulled into a magic of this jewel-like place on Rt 66.

Next episode in [Sketch Trip America] will feature Gary, the guide to Route 66 and his mom and pop store Sinclair.

 

Visit Jingoogk's original blog in Korean here: 

http://blog.naver.com/hwangjinkook/220169895635 

Permalink: http://sketchtripamerica.blogspot.com/2014/12/sketch-trip-america-episode-11-genuine.html

[Sketch Trip America] Episode 10: St. Louis and the Melting Pot is still melting

Upon leaving the Old Chain of Rocks Bridge, we entered city of St. Louis. We briefly missed Route 66 and went a bit north somehow. The roads were terrible. There were potholes and deep cracks everywhere and this turtle back of a road went on for a good while. Sumi said looking at the map on her phone that the place of Michael Brown shooting wasn't far from here.

Ferguson is a northern suburb of St. Louis. It is a place with chronic condition of discrimination against Blacks. Recently when Michael Brown, an unarmed black teenager was shot 6 times and killed by a white police officer, resulted a national outrage and protests. Also near Ferguson, a black man stole two cans of soda from a convenient store and was quickly surrounded by police officers. He then approached police yelling 'shoot me,' and the police really shot him several times in broad daylight. He also was unarmed. Someone on the street filmed the whole thing on his camera phone and I'd seen the video right before we left for the trip. Ferguson tragedy once again put American society face a turmoil stemming from deep rooted racial discrimination.
In twenty minutes or so later, we happened to drive by Forest Park, near city of St. Louis. All of a sudden, the rocky roads became smooth as if they were ironed. And unlike the northern neighbors, streets and lamps were adorned with flowers and most of passersby were whites. It was a stark difference to us as travelers that got off Route 66 briefly and drove through St. Louis from north to south.

Mom and Pop Store

Mom-and-pop store means a business that is run by mom and dad. In other word, a small, independent, family-owned business. One of the reasons Route 66 brings out certain nostalgia is because there are many mom and pop stores along Route 66. The section of Route 66 (now called Chippewa Street) that passes through St. Louis, there were two notable mom and pop stores. The Donut Drive-In that opened in the 1950's and Ted Drewes Frozen Custard opened in 1929. Perhaps, the fact that they are well and prosperous within the competition with those large franchised businesses also pique interest in people.








'Open' neon sign is lit. The friend we're going to meet in L.A. recently had a donut shop in Dallas, Texas just a year ago. It wasn't a franchise but a mom and pop store which he and his wife made all donuts themselves starting in the crack of dawn. He once told me that the people in Texas prefer donuts made in small stores than big chains like Dunkin Donuts. He believes the donuts made in far away factories can't compare in taste to his donuts made from scratch all in his store. I agree with him. He also described the scenes of his store in early mornings. When he and his wife make donuts from dawn and turn on the neon sign when it's still dark, it meant the freshly made donuts are ready. And because Dallas was so flat, people can see the light and come to buy his donuts from far away. Now, looking at the donut store that existed over 60 years and the tall sign standing above the roof, I thought that people in St. Louis also like donuts from mom and pop store and the owner of this store started to make donuts from the crack of dawn every day, just like my friend.






Ted Drewes is popular for its frozen custards. Until then, I thought custard was a bread with a cream filling. It was because of a well-known bakery brand in Korea that I thought such. It turned out the custard that I knew was just bread, but the cream filling itself was called custard. When I found this out from Sumi, I felt empty for being misinformed about custard, but was satisfied for learning it before I was dead. Puuhaha! I could only laugh a hollow laugh. Sumi expected to taste a good custard at this store, but when we saw the long line, gave up at once. I think we're not, so called foodies.






Ted Drewes' custard is supposed to be so thick that it doesn't spill when you turn it upside-down. I wondered what that meant exactly, in the world of custard. Instead of tasting it, we only gathered facts about the store being started as an ice cream truck in 1919 and now Ted Drewes, Jr is running it, then left for our next destination, Meramec Campground.






On our way to Meramec campground, Joongdeok(aka JD), the friend in LA, who used to have a donut shop in Dallas had called. JD asked, "I heard you started your trip, when are you going to get to LA?" I answered him, "We're on our way. It'll take about 10 days." JD told us to give him a ring 2-3 days before arriving in LA and I told him that we'd call 7-8 days later. After hanging up the phone, 'What a strange conversation,' I thought. Back in Korea, we used to live 5 minutes apart by walking. Now I'm telling him that it would take 15 days to get to his house to see him. And he says, "Okay, give me a call 3 days before." What a strange situation. 'America is so big,' I talked to myself, incoherently.






Meramec Campground was privately run. Basic camp site was $18 and site with electrical hook-up was $25. Usually, electrical hook-ups are for the RV's, but anyone can use it if you're particularly in need of electricity. Usually, other campgrounds are shaped in circles, but Meramec campground was a large grass field with sites scattered all over. There were many campers already there to enjoy the weekend.


Some photos of Meramec Campground.

We pick a spot under a big tree. The picnic table was moved from an area several feet away. It is all right to move tables little bit as long as it is not tied down. We like to put the table close by so we can shorten the distance between tent and table. It makes it efficient for us to go back and forth between working, cooking, and going into the tent. We weren't going to make camp fire or use barbecue grill, so we put everything even tighter than usual.

Inside of our tent. For a long trip, we've set up a few rules as below:

Tent.

We need to move to a new location every day, so we wanted to minimize the stress from having to set up and take down the tent. We had the specific needs in mind while shopping for tent. Now it only takes a minute for us to pitch the tent and another minute for taking it down. Tent is from Kelty, for 4 persons and 3 seasons.

Inside the tent.

Let's put only necessary things in the designated places inside the tent. It's faster to pack up that way, too.

Pillows.

For a good rest everyday, we should have the most comfortable pillow.  So we brought our pillows from home that we've been using.

It's nothing too grand, but we planned to keep everything comfortable and also simple. I thought it was important for a long trip such as ours.

After pitching our tent, we started to paint and write, then cooked up a spicy stew with sausages and veggies. Looking at the stew inside the pot, I suddenly remembered the streets in St. Louis.

A melting pot!

America is often mentioned as a good model of melting pot with all its different races, ethnicities, and cultures mixed together. However, to me, it was a melting pot that still hadn't been successfully melted, as long as there were flawed ideas of superiority and aversion to integrate. 

However, at Meramec campground, these people with different skin colors, races and ethnicity, were all melting away, having sweet and restful Labor Day weekend and enjoying the pleasure of camping outdoors. We were also melting together with them in good harmony and our fourth day of the trip was slowly closing down.

To go to Jingoogk's original blog in Korean --> http://blog.naver.com/hwangjinkook/220160154000

[Sketch Trip America] Episode 9: Route 66, Mississippi River and the Old Chain of Rocks Bridge

August 30th. Day 4 of the cross-country America trip.



  





Brrrrrng, brrrrng, brrrng, booang! I woke up by the combination of noises from the air conditioner and trucks driving by. It was 9 AM. Past couple days, I woke up by the sound of birds chirping, fresh air and gentle breeze on my face. When I opened the zipper on the tent, fresh air from the forest at dawn poured in along with the sound of leaves rustling, chipmunks scurrying about, and morning dew dripping on the tent fly. This morning, the air conditioning unit, refrigerator, someone taking shower from next door woke me up and when I opened the door, car noise from the highway and the hot rays of the sun all poured in. My ear and breath became stuffy at once. Inkeeper Motel is actually a decent place for its location and price. What I'm trying to say is the difference between the mid-city lodgings verses camping in the woods. Oh, wait! It was actually not 9 AM, but 8 AM. We'd already come to a different time zone. It is 9 AM in New York and 8 AM in Illinois.
One more negative aspect about waking up in motels is that we cannot make our own breakfast. At a campground, we could make anything that pleased us whether it's omelets or jjigaes(spicy Korean stews) on our little gas stove. But we can't cook in motels. Some people try to make small things like ramen noodles but it's against policy for most places and it's not even that convenient. So we decided to find a restaurant nearby.







Sumi asked what I'd like, so I said Soondaeguk(Korean sausage soup)! I know I can't have it but I yelled it out anyway. But Sumi ordered something at a Mexican restaurant and it looked incredibly similar to Soondaeguk. Sumi thought maybe spicy Mexican soup might be similar to Korean soup and she was right. She said that if we want to eat something proper, then we should order with proper pronunciation. I completely agreed with her.
Caaaallldoooo ddde Pppoyyyoooo!
I don't know which part of that is chicken and which part is the soup, but I tried my best to sound like a Mexican nobleman. Sumi ordered Huuuuuevooooos Rrrrrrancherrrrrooos.







Thanks to my wonderful pronounciation, the soup served was just like what I would have for a hangover in Korea. A spicy chicken soup with a bit of sour after taste. I emptied the entire bowl and started the day fresh. Sumi's international sense worked nicely this time. I also learned that Huevos Rancheros is breakfast burrito. Once again, I don't know which part of those words is breakfast and which part is burrito.








Route 66 was disconnected between Hamel and Chain of Rocks Bridge in Illinois. We might have missed it but we decided to take 157 instead and it quickly continued onto Route 66. We tried to stay off Interstate highways as much as we can. 
Now that we got on Route 66, the plan was simple: Just follow Route 66 signs. And stop, if we see old hidden jewels with stories along the road. That was all. What we look at when we pass it and what impressions we keep solely depended on each of us. For us, we often used Road strippers, uh, I mean Roadtrippers. The first thing to look at was Old Chain of Rocks Bridge.


   





Though, the center of Route 66 is always the road itself. I started to get this feeling that the scenery along the route and driving through it was the prime bases of traveling Route 66. Even if there were many roadside attractions dotted along it, if the road itself was boring, then it wouldn't mean much to travel the route. There's a saying, it takes more than pearls to make a necklace. Route 66 could be the golden thread that strings up all these old beads. It was simply amazing that this golden thread would continue all the way to L.A. 
Today, Route 66 started with sights as below.











This used to be a drive-in theater, but only the signage remained.












There are usually multitude of electric poles lined up alongside Route 66. Route 66 being one of the first road crossing the country, it makes complete sense. The first road that crossed the country would've needed electricity first and foremost and the most convenient place to put the electric poles would've been by the roadside. This also meant the Route 66 was once the most busiest streets in America.



     




A biker with a stretched out undershirt. He must live a block away from the Route 66 which is all bikers' dream road. It is a fantasy for others but for this fantastic biker, a daily route. That's why he's dressed so casually. His undershirt may be stretched out, but his heart burns like a flame.







Soon, we crossed a bridge and we shouted, "Old Chain of Rocks Bridge! Yeah!" But something felt strange.







To tell you the truth, all we knew about the bridge was that it was an old iron bridge and we get on it right before reaching St. Louis. From what we saw, this bridge wasn't much to look at.







Of course, it wasn't the old bridge, it was merely the passage way to get to the Old Chain of Rocks Bridge. We also found out later that Old Chain of Rocks Bridge crosses Mississippi River and the center of the bridge is the border between Illinois and Missouri State, and the whole history that followed.








The Chain of Rocks Bridge

In 1894, Water Plant was built by St. Louis Waterworks.
World's largest filter plant was added in 1915.
A Bridge was built next to it in 1929.
1,632 meters, the longest bridge in America.
In the 1930's, Bypass US 66 was designated over the bridge.
The Chain of Rocks Bridge closed in 1970.
Listed in the National Register of Historic Places in 2006.
The Old Chain of Rocks Bridge reopened for pedestrian and cycling use since 1998.


Beside this chronological history, what I was curious about was the 'Chain or Rocks' part. It didn't seem like the shape or the mechanism of building the bridge. However, what I have found through some searches on the net, it was the natural shape of the river bed under the bridge. This unusual part of the Mississippi River had 17-mile shoal, or series of rocky rapids, called the Chain of Rocks. Multiple rock ledges just under the surface made this stretch of the river extremely dangerous to navigate. The bridge was built right next to it, hence the Chain of Rocks Bridge. So I understand the name part. Now I must see the Chain of Rocks as well.







Of course, one can look at the Old Chain of Rocks Bridge and also cross it on foot. It is a great looking old bridge, well-matched the mighty Mississippi River.







However, the origin of the name, Chain of Rocks can't be seen any more. In the 1960's, a low-water dam was built covering the Chain of Rocks. Only the fast currents on the surface of the river give hints to what it used to be.



Pictures below are of the Old Chain of Rocks Bridge:








Dense greens on the Mississippi River banks.









There's a red object far out on the bridge.





Water plant sends water to filter plant. We can see the fast current above the low lying dam.





Illinois-Missouri border





The red object from far away turned out to be an old truck.
A family is looking out to the river from it. So we stopped and looked, too.










An inevitability stopped everyone at the same place. And we all looked out on the same spot. Wherever you came from, whatever you were doing before, looking out the Mississippi River from the old red truck on the Old Chain of Rocks Bridge was the final rest to dry the sweat off our foreheads. It was a melody from a banjo that reminded of old country home, and the straw hat of Huckleberry Finn. There was nothing else beside that on the bridge. 





To read Jingoogk's original blog in Korean : http://blog.naver.com/hwangjinkook/220147293480