day 6: des moines, ia to chicago, il

the night of our arrival into des moines we had spotted an imposing gold-domed building just off the interstate. by the ornate adornments topping the building, we assumed it to be the heavily advertised st. john’s basilica and decided to stop by on our way out of town the next morning. when we pulled into the parking lot we found, much to our surprise, that it was in fact the capitol (that's r in the bottom left). sparsely attended on rainy Saturdays such as these, it featured a many tiered rotunda and a large plaque dedicated to the suffragists of iowa. the women on the plaque were marching with their arms raised as into battle which m found to be in stark contrast to the display case brimming with doll replicas of the first ladies in the inaugural dresses, each with an eerily identical face and figure.

once again dissatisfied with the motel’s coffee, we set out to find some true brew. luckily, r was unable to locate the starbucks to which the gps had been leading us, and m selected, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, a café called zanzibar’s coffee adventure, an independent roasting operation filled with burlap sacks of green beans and a regular forest of potted greens. the ethiopian sidamo was rich and bold enough for r to regret the small size he’d ordered.

at last, with m at the wheel, we crossed at davenport the mighty mississippi, the swollen jugular of our nation, while the waters thumped on beneath us to m’s intense delight. her waters flooded the banks marshy for miles on its eastern side and vines the size of cables hung from the lush green trees. when we drive again through her southern waters m promises to put her feet in the river and feel at last her pulse aligned to the beat of her currents.

the awful smell of manure was strong enough to make m gag as we passed through peru, but apparently the gentlemen of the area didn’t find the odor to be so offensive as they were out playing golf on an exceptionally healthy green.

the entrance to Chicago was a slow one, through a dizzying array of highways. the expressway was anything but, as heavy traffic impeded our progress, even on a Saturday afternoon. r took pictures of the city skyline out the car window like a true tourist, and the locals were game enough to slow down to allow him some good shots through the traffic. we found our lodging, the dana hotel and spa, on the corner of state and erie. m found an amazing deal for this normally $300+ per night boutique hotel and booked the room online. the hotel was luxurious, and our view of the city from the 22nd floor was mesmerizing. on our way in r had some brief trouble as he turned down a one-way street headed in the wrong direction. luckily, the parking lot was very near to the corner, and a valet attendant stepping into the street to stop traffic and allow him in to the lot. there our car stayed for exactly twenty-four hours as we walked emphatic circles around the windy city (m’s a tireless urban walker, sloppy with the wealth of sensation the city offers).

acting on a tip from r’s friend aaron we located lou malnatis’ pizzeria. the deep dish delicacy we encountered there was loaded with meats, cheeses and veggies, and m watched in disbelief as r practically inhaled two and a half slices. the waitress brought m a complimentary beer and, by the end of the night, r was calling her ‘hon’. m demanded we take the remaining two slices with us, despite the fact that we had no way to reheat them. r would thank her for this move the next day when we munched on them, cold and straight from the ice box, before heading past wrigley field and out of town.

we hit the streets on foot, walking through the northwestern university campus and down the lake shore were m encountered one of the great lakes for the first time. the pale blue waters of lake michigan chopped at the shore as we looked out to the lake’s strange horizon. there was something of the desert in the desolation of the michigan, something dry and foreboding. we walked on to the navy pier and, unimpressed by the mega-mall feeling, meandered back into the streets, examining the buildings, bridges and the chicago river, which was full of night-kayakers and crew teams practicing under the near-full moon despite the chilly nighttime air and occasional drizzle. m’s favorite was the chicago tribune tower, embedded every few feet with a fragment of some of man’s great structures.

r doesn’t really like to wait for his fun, especially for a drink, and so we steered clear of the popular nightclubs where eager patrons waited behind velvet ropes to be granted entry within (what’s with the trend of calling a place a piano bar when there is thumping techno/rave/house/crap music coming out the front door and spilling onto the streets?) instead we found frado’s, and irish pub host to soccer enthusiasts (not to mention rugby fans: usa v wales played in the city earlier that day). we settled into a corner, and, as serendipity would have it, the tv just above our heads zapped on to feature the last thirty-five minutes of the denmark-sweden world cup qualifier. m sat back to enjoy her 12 year glenfiddich (we know, scotch in an irish bar) and r his smithwick.

once the game was over we wobbled back to the hotel, making in a quick stop at the drugstore for some antacid tablets for r, shouldered past the line of top-floor hopefuls, and settled into our room. r fell asleep watching comedy central on the high-def flat screen, at which point m switched off the tv, docked her ipod in the b&w zeppelin, pulled up the blinds on the floor to ceiling windows, scattered some pillows on the floor and settled in for the long haul. m’s insomnia was never so fine.