*Fueled by high-octane mustard*

Howdy, ya’ll! I’m gonna try my darndest to go a little deeper in this blog post, after reading through my last one I realized it was pretty slim on the details. There’s plenty more to unpack here in my travels, like what ply toilet paper my hotel room has. (Answer is: never enough). Alright, let’s sWipe left and keep rolling

I had a wonderful time in Connecticut, which I wasn’t expecting. Once I got over the embarrassment of not remembering how to spell Connect-i-cut, I started planning what I would do during my three days off. We stayed in Southington, which is about 30 minutes from Hartford. The state isn’t that large; I could drive from the northern border to the coast in about an hour and a half, so I knew I could cover lots of ground in my little hatchback rental. I know what you’re thinking: “Hey, Black Forrest Ham, what gives? Why not drive the Wienermobile on your off days?” See, it’s not exactly incogmeato. As much as I love the happiness radiating off people when they see it, the Wienermobile can seriously hinder any attempts at timeliness. Something as simple as getting gas can quickly turn into a twenty minute ordeal, depending on the persistence of the fans at the station.

Them: “Oh my gosh, what are you doing here?”

Me: “Oh hey folks! We’re just getting gas”

Them: “Are you selling hotdogs?”

Me: “No, we’re just getting gas before our next event!”

Them: “But, why are you here?”

Me: “Just getting gas, we’re on our way to an event” *Back starts to sweat*

Them: “Wait! I’ve got to tell you about this wart on my foot!”

…and so on and so on. Gotta love it though.

So anyways, I rented a little hatchback from Hertz. Hertz describes the feeling that you actually experience when you rent from Hertz. It hurts. This guy lost the keys to my rental (the building wasn’t that large, by the way). He also wasn’t very well versed on the rules. If I really wanted, I bet I could have talked him into letting me take his car! With that, I zoomed off in my silver steed of a car to start my three day vacation.

The first day I headed to Devil’s Hopyard, which I discovered by Googling “Connecticut top trail running”. Apparently, this place was one of the top places in New England. After a short drive, I arrived in the parking lot. After tightening up my laces, I took off for the trail head, determined to get in a good, long run. I soon was encumbered by rocky, uphill trails that turned my jog into a grueling hill climb. I think my first mile took 28 minutes. But I persevered, relishing the workout. Several times the trails I was following would dissolve into bushes, forcing me to bushwack until I found another trail. At the end of an hour, I only went three miles. But those miles gave me plenty of views and some respite from the busy city. I ended my time at Devil’s Hopyard by cooling off in the waterfall by the trailhead.

After that I drove around a little bit, checking out the town I was by. I snacked on some grub before heading back to home base, AKA Comfort Suites.

The second day was a bust, to put it frankly. I woke up to curtains of rain coming down, so I decided I would wait it out. My plan was to go in to Hartford and check out some of the museums there, along with Mark Twain’s house. I read online that I could walk it for free, but when I walked in the front door, I was told that it was $20 to go through the house. Twenty bucks! To see where Mark Twain took his tinkles? No way. I shook my head and headed back to the car, pulling my hood up against the rain. Once I arrived in Hartford, I looked for some lunch. I found this barbecue place not far from me, so I routed there and started looking for parking. When I pulled in to my spot, I was a little to close to the curb, and bumped it with my tire. Suddenly this lady on the sidewalk started hooting and hollering at me to roll down my window. In a garbled cry she yelled “Hey man, you messed that up real bad! Your car! It’s all dented up and up!” Oh great, I thought. Just what I needed. I sat staring out the windshield, steeling myself for what was surely going to be a couple hundred bucks in repairs for this damn rental car. I hadn’t felt that low since game 6 last season when Rodgers broke his collar bone. I reluctantly started walking around the car to check on the damage, but to my pleasant surprise, there was none. Not a scratch! I have no idea what that lady was talking about. I knew I only bumped it with my tire. Anyways, being berated over my parking, along with the over-priced barbecue and the rain, ruined my appetite for museums. Like I said, I didn’t particularly enjoy that stuff anyways. I’d rather be outside. After only a couple hours in town, I concluded my time in Hartford with a walk through some city park and headed back to the hotel. I ended the day with some Netflix (I’m currently watching Breaking Bad) and chalked up a big L for the day.

I redeemed my vacation time on the third day. I woke up like a kid on Christmas, determined not to let the day slip away. I shoveled down some oatmeal (one of my all time favorite meals) and sped off for Penwood State Park, another apparently great place for trail running. Oh, and was it. I had a marvelous time there. As soon as I left the parking lot, I was immediately enveloped into the green off the forest. My legs kicked out the stress and frustration from the previous day, and I breathed easy as I fell into rhythm. The thing I love about running trail is the strategy involved. You have to pick your way through the gnarled roots and rocks, placing each foot as if it was a game piece in chess. At the end of my six or so miles, I was barely aware of my fatigue. It’s a bizarre thing, really. You fall into this numb concentration, a disconnection from your own body as you float along the trail. It’s effortless, and yet demands presence at every turn. I had a real ball. I had half a mind to turn around and the route all over again, but I had more things to see and it was already past noon. 

I wanted to change out of my running shorties before climbing back into the car. The problem is, those shorts have a built in liner. If you know me, then you know how I love to go commando. Underwear is just a fabrication of the system, designed to keep ya down, man! But I do run into these issues where I’m in a public place, like a parking lot, forced to strip down to my birthday suit to throw on another pair of shorts (like my Baggies, which also sport the built in liner). So far I’ve managed to stay out of jail for indecent exposure, but if you see my name in the paper, there’s my explanation.

I headed to this place called Ender’s State Forest to check out this waterfall I read about online. I pulled off the road into a small parking lot, nearly missing it. I was practically alone; there was just one other car in the parking lot. I hobbled down the gravel path, taking notice of the WARNING: CLIFF signs I was seeing posted on the trees. Sure beats the street signs of the city, eh? Soon I no longer heard the noisy highway but instead the rushing water from the river. I came to the a turn in the trail and realized that the waterfall was just a series of falls in the river, which careened down the valley at a gentle slope. The highway must have ran parallel, I figured. I followed the trail down the river, stopping at each waterfall and taking it all in before moving to the next one. I spent a good 45 minutes to an hour there, happy to not be in my hotel room. Before heading back to my hatchback, I exposed my pale thighs to the world once more and submerged into one of the collecting pools.

During my little parade in the woods I avoided every bush like the plague. My body reacts terribly to Poison Ivy. I still have a scar from the last bout, which I picked up on a Hoofers canoe trip down the Wisconsin river. I remember going into UHS, the university health clinic, hoping to be prescribed an oral steroid to knock it out of my system. Instead, I got a raised brow from the “doctor”, as he started delving into the topic of “alternative forms of herpes”. Herpes! I told him, look guy, I was just out camping last weekend, and four other people got it too! He mumbled something about “promiscuousness in the tent” before I convinced him otherwise. I spent halloween wrapped in bandages to soak up the pus from my weeping arms. You know that didn’t stop me and the boys, though.

Ok, I’ll get back on track. I finished up with the waterfalls and headed down to Yale. Yep, that Yale. I swear, it’s like they can see your ACT score listed on your forehead. Sitting in a coffee shop for a quick bite, I overheard a couple college kids discussing some latest theory on quantum physics or something like that. This is a complete departure from what I’m used to, which is piecing together the previous nights shenanigans over brunch with the buddies. I didn’t hang around for too long out of fear that I would be ousted as a simpleton. But it was still cool to be there, and now I can officially tell people “I went to Yale”. I just won’t give any context.

After Yale I cruised back to Southington to return my trusted steed of a rental car. She fulfilled her duties, and alas I had to let her go. But it was a great time getting behind the wheel of a regular vehicle. You can’t help but feel like a NASCAR driver when driving anything but the Wienermobile.

So Cady has friends from all over the place, and one of the last nights in Southington we had the chance to go and tour ESPN. Yea she pretty much said it in that way, like it was no big deal. ESPN! Hell yea I wanted to go! Her friend took us through practically the whole facility, which was teeming with tons of sports folks. I gave Scott Van Pelt a Wiener Whistle, which was pretty cool.

After Connecticut, we drove to Syracuse and jumped on a plane, parking the Wienermobile at a Penske for safekeeping. We were flying back to Madison for our Fall Staff meeting, where all the hotdoggers make the pilgrimage back to Madison to talk all things hot dogs. The first night in town, I went and surprised my friends over at the Memorial Union and gave them ride in the Wienermobile. My old Hoofer advisor, Joe, looked me dead in the face and said “Forrest, this was the greatest day of our lives, and we owe it all to you. We forever are indebted to your service.”

Ok he didn’t say that word for word, but it was a mutual understanding. In terms of the staff meeting, we had a marketing presentation, a few days of business, and finished things off at the Kalahari Wisconsin Dells for a few nights. It’s a blast to get the whole crew together (Hotdoggers + Planter’s Peanutters). In reality, we’re the only ones who truly know what each other is going through, so it’s nice to have a shared understanding. Oh, and one night we rented a big ‘ol party bus to cruise us around Madison. It was too fun.

Back in the saddle in Syracuse, we had the honor of traveling to Clinton, NY for Kraft Hockeyville. This contest has been going on for a while. How it works is all of these small towns enter in to be recognized as the greatest hockey town in America. This year, Clinton took the cake, and were given funds to help hockey programs, as well as the hosting of a preseason NHL game. The Nut’s joined us for this one too, so it was a blast. We also got to watch the Blue Jackets and the Sabres battle it out on the ice.

So after Fall Staff we all flew back to our markets, rejuvenated and ready for the long haul to Thanksgiving break. Except for me. I had a week back in market before flying back home for another wedding, this time my good friend from high school Chris Walter.

*Internal dialogue

“Man, Forrest. All your friends are getting married!”

“Yea I know! How cool right?”

“Why aren’t you getting married huh?”

“Well I still struggle daily to wear matching socks, so…”

Someday.

Chris’ wedding was up in Wausau, and again I had way too much fun. All of my favorite folks from the days of Slinger High School were there, and we just tore up the dance floor. I was graced once more with the stunning Emily Schaefer as my date (and girlfriend, funny how that works out). We took some hikes while up there, and overall just had a great time together once more. Gotta love Wisconsin.

Book ends: Alright I’ll end it with an insight to the latest literature I’m devouring via my Kindle (thanks again Emily!). I just finished a book called Entreprenuer Revolution, which was pretty good. The back-half was loaded down with a lot of business-y diction, while the front-half examined the career choices we all make. The author claims that inside of each of, there is a constant battle ensuing between the Reptile, the Monkey, and the Entrepreneur. The Reptile is driven by fear, anger, and other inflammable emotions, and ultimately is the culprit for millions of people working jobs they hate. The Monkey is the enabler here, it feeds off of complacency and comfortability in routines. The Entrepreneur, however, is the being that strives to break free from the hoi polloi and achieve success. It is driven by passion, innovation, and fun. It was pretty intriguing for someone who drives a giant hot dog, definitely got the wheels turning. Here’s my favorite quote from the book, take it for what it’s worth:

“Rarely do people achieve momentous things because they hesitated and put off what their heart was calling them to do.”

See ya next time.

Schedule:

10/17 Columbus, OH

10/18-10/22 Memphis, TN

10/22-10/24 Columbia, MO

10/24 – 11/1 South Bend, IN

11/1 – 11/7 Cincinatti, OH

11/7 – 11/15 Roanoke, VA

11/15-11/19 Hasbrouck Heights, NJ

Thanksgiving Break

11/29 – 12/3 Bridgewater, VA

12/3 – 12/11 Buffalo, NY