Driving across the Midwest across six states to chase the Green & Gold.
Mid October. A week-long visit in Urbana Champaign to work with some colleagues at the physics department. A planned road-trip from Chicago to Washington, to attend a Packers football match. Less than 48 hours to cover more than 1000 kilometres. And then I see on the map Green Bay is close. Off the main track, adding more than 7 hours to my already scarce time-budget. But it's close. Closer than I could possibly ever be.
United colours of Autumn
It was my first time in the MidWest. Landed in Chicago in a late evening of October. Just the time to admire the charming architecture of the city center, and then off to Urbana Champaign with a Greyhound bus, catching the heart of Illinois. Urbana features all the treats of a typical American college town. Small, quiet, cozy, with a nice campus surrounded by student places.
After an initial (and scary) taste of the renowned Illinois cold, fall's weather turned into a milder autumn. Sunny, with a light, fresh wind. Having lived in Georgia for a while, I have witnessed in many occasions how powerful Nature can be in US. This time made no difference, being surrounded by a variety of intense colours popping out from every corner of the city. From deep red to sparkling green, walking through the small roads towards the campus turned into a Pantone-ascetic experience. Filled with gallons of drip coffee and a daily dose of cinnamon bagels, I very much enjoyed my week in Urbana, being treated marvellously by my hosts. As weird as it can be for a place that doesn't see the sea for thousands of miles, I experienced one of the best sushi-bars of my life (thanks Nico!) , as well as a novel meeting with a brisket, which was in my memories since my visit in Mississippi almost ten years ago.
I left Urbana for Chicago on a Amtrak train which looked from outside as vintage as possible in my mind. An uncountable number of crop fields flowing outside of the window, filled by a persistent yellow which seemed to percolate everywhere, including buildings and stones. And it didn't take to much to feel like Cary Grant in North by Northwest, waiting for my Marie Saint to seduce me at the restaurant coach.
At the Union station in Chicago the other Andrea, my fellow passenger for the road-trip, was waiting for me in front of The Untouchable staircase. We didn't have time to visit any beauty around, beside tasting one of the true icons of the Windy City, the Chicago deep dish pizza. I still don't understand what I ate. But it was tasty, and I liked. A lot. And it's as difficult to admit as it gets, being a fierce Southern Italian food hooligan.
A childhood dream, aka my love for the Pack
The original plan was to rent a car and drive, almost comfortably, from Chicago to Washington DC, where I had a mandatory appointment two days after to attend a football match. Until I realised, and convinced Andrea, that Green Bay was not too far, and we were close to my lifetime only occasion to visit Lambeau Field, also know as the Frozen Tundra, home of my beloved Packers.
The Green Bay Packers are the most historical, and iconic, American football team. Unlike others NFL squads, the Packers are not controlled by a billionaire, being rather a communist enterprise, owned by fans who buy shares released every ten/twenty years (I am proudly one of them). And they don't play in a big city like their rivals. They reside in Green Bay, a small town touching the Michigan lake in Wisconsin, close to Canada, where citizens live and breath in unison with their team. The city is more than 300 km straight north of Chicago, a path to the Mecca of football I could not avoid this time. And Andrea realised the relevance of such moment too.
We drove without any break until our destination, crossing the Illinois border in the mid afternoon, and going vertical through Wisconsin. The landscapes around us changed completely from a flat yellow to a large variety of greens. New families of plants and trees with a northern character began to populate the highway, spaced out by small ponds and water reservoirs. Driving across US is always a unique experience that projects the traveller into a series of ever-changing Hollywood panorama, which continuously excite different states of emotions. Climbing latitudes from south to north enhances this feeling.
We reached Green Bay in the late evening, when the dark, and the cold, set up all around us. No time for jokes. We run to Lambeau Field, where I gave my homages to Vince Lombardi, circled the stadium like a pilgrim at the Kaaba, and renewed my pledge to be a Packer fan for life. Off to a dinner in TitleTown with Andrea, and then to our bedroom, waiting for a tough schedule with a full day of driving and almost no time for any break. We basically stretched our already tight road-trip of twenty hours for a couple of pictures and a holy walk around two statues and an historical building. That's probably the true meaning of faith.
Dunes and Leaves along two time zones
Alarm at 5AM with five hours of driving ahead to reach our first stop, Indiana Dunes. I was ready to surf the road with no hesitation. But not before a good breakfast in my favourite highway chain, Cracker Barrel. We sat inside the restaurant with its old-fashioned general-store ambient, ordered our coffees, and most crucially, a dose of pantagruelic buttermilk pancakes which could have fed ten people. We got back on the road full, of sugars, which mitigated our sorrow for missing a crucial piece of the 70s pop culture along the way, The Fonz statue in Milwaukee. Nevertheless, we landed at the Indiana Dunes national park smoothly. Just the time for a stamp on our passport, and a walk to the beach, as suggested by Andrea. Still, I didn't expect at all the scenario that appeared in front of us. A real beach with proper yellow sand, people on loungers under a fall sunbath, two teams playing around an improvised volleyball net. Just below the Michigan lake, with chimneystacks of Chicagos's plants at the horizon.
Intense, and very short. In front of us other 8 hours until a bedroom in Pittsburgh, with an intermediate stop at the Cuyahoga park, between Cleveland and Akron, famous for its autumn foliage. I have to admit driving in Indiana and Ohio, at least in the nord part, didn't happen to be as exciting as before. The landscapes flew almost identical each others, restoring and probably intensifying the yellowish flatness seen in Illinois.
Still, our road-trip got interesting when it turned into an existential fight against the Sun, given that the park, and its beauty, would have been useless at the twilight. Our battle became dramatically worse after realising that all that driving pushed us into a different time-zone, forcing to move the hands of the clocks one hour ahead. Unable to catch even a coffe to avoid wasting any bit of time, but determined to have our selfie in front of a maple oak, we arrived at the park entrance few minutes before the sunset, rushing to accomplish our task as chased by a legion of vampires. We did it, and everything was worth the race. The last light rays flavoured all the plant life with a hazy atmosphere that enhanced the colours of the brown-to-green leaves covering all over the ground like a soft mantle. A sort of stairway to fall's heaven. Or, to the nearby Mexican restaurant where we finally caught a break with a well deserved fajita.
Pittsburgh was only two hours away. We reached the Steel City just before midnight after a series of turns, and rise-and-falls, which gave us the impression that the town was built on a rollercoaster.
DC, finally
The last 5AM alarm. The last road-trip piece up to Washington across 6 American states.
The final four hours of driving started with the early morning Pennsylvania breeze, which is not a joke. But our stone-cold hearts got warmed by a family of deer appeared just in front of the car, trotting undisturbed in the main street. I hope they had more time then us to visit the city and its hundreds of bridges.
With finally some space to reach the car drop-off quite before the football match, we got back into our daily business, enjoying with some relax the driving landscapes. Which were stunning. Both Pennsylvania and Maryland are loaded with spectacular sceneries. The land offers a continuous variety of profiles, with little hills, narrow roads rolling through small mountains, as well as straight paths coasted by huge vertical walls of trees with autumn colours which looked stronger and more intense than before.
And little towns all around, populated by nice wooden houses encircled by a solitary countryside. These images fulfilled and completed my personal Hollywood hallucination, since shortly after the departure I felt projected into The Village. I cannot complain too much. At end, I share some common traits with Adrien Brody.
Blessed by clear skies, warm takeaway coffee and cream cheese toasted bagels, we arrived on time at the Washington airport to give up the car. Andrea went back home. I caught two other friends to go the Fedex Stadium, and watch my first Packers game live. Mission accomplished. With full honours.
The Packers lost badly against the Commanders. Not really a good baptism for me. Still, I enjoyed watching my quarterback, Aaron Rodgers, breaking the huddle and throwing the first touchdown.
My American visit didn't end up there. I spent more than two weeks between the John Hopkins University in Baltimore and UPenn in Philadelphia, to work with colleagues and friends that, again, hosted me marvellously. And where I made unexpected, and kind of unique, encounters. But that's a different story.
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