Road Tripping (#8) – Wind and Food: Both Disconcerting (St. Paul to Bismarck, North Dakota)

Road Tripping (#8) – Wind and Food: Both Disconcerting (St. Paul to Bismarck, North Dakota)

rt8When I told people my chosen mode of transport for our travels out west is a Prius, everyone always sort of snickered. I wondered why. I would ask, “Why the laughs?” The usual response was something like, ”It’s going to be uncomfortable, no room to spread out.”

I dismissed their comments and snickers because I find the interior of my beloved car to be quite comfortable. Even the seats are ergonomically designed as to not stress my back, thank you very much.

What no one warned me about were the western winds.

Yes, the wind. Wind so fierce that I can’t drive through it. Every time I am behind the wheel, the wind whips the car into other lanes. Luckily, Jordan remains Steve McQueen cool and has handled the drive with the skill and strength needed.

If I had to do this drive alone, I would have driven straight into a car dealership and traded in my beloved Prius for something a bit heavier. Or, maybe even done something more practical—booked a flight home and had my car shipped back to the East Coast.

Wind—1; Marian—0.

On another note—food!

In a Mexican restaurant in Bismarck, not far from our hotel, I asked for black beans to accompany my fajitas. George, our server, claimed there were no beans in the restaurant. And, when our margaritas were served, they turned out to be a strange alcoholic milkshake concoction, not a classic margarita as we all picture one. We asked for beers instead; George was aghast. The cheese used in this very popular Mexican establishment was mozzarella. (I’ve decided that I think Bismarck might be a bit confused as to what, exactly, connotes authentic Mexican cuisine…)

Oh, and George insisted that we help him clean up our table at the end of the meal—stacking dishes and such. All we could do was laugh, take it all in, and leave a good tip.

Breakfast tomorrow will once again be the midwestern version of a bagel—tiny, hard, round blobs of dough. We’re really missing our favorite NY-style bagels back in Lancaster right about now.