My 50 States:
First Edition

Robert and Mike begin their great American road trip exactly where a road trip should begin: beside the Pacific Ocean with Highway 1 stretching ahead of them.

The station wagon is clean. The luggage is packed. The maps are neatly folded.

Confidence is extraordinarily high.

For several glorious miles, everything suggests they may actually know what they are doing.

They do not.

Side Quest A

Devils Golf Course

Death Valley, California

Their first detour begins when Mike notices a place called Devils Golf Course. There is no golf course. Mike brings the clubs anyway.

Side Quest B

Hole N” The Rock

Moab, Utah

Florida is southeast. Naturally, Robert and Mike drive northeast to Utah. A giant sign painted across the side of a rock convinces Mike that this is completely reasonable.

Side Quest C

World’s Largest Ball of Twine

Cawker City, Kansas

They cross some of the most beautiful landscapes in America without stopping. Then Mike sees a brochure advertising an enormous ball of twine. The brakes are immediately applied.

After crossing an unreasonable portion of the United States, Robert and Mike finally arrive in Florida.

Naturally, they first drive almost all the way to the southern tip of the state before realizing that the destination on their card is several hundred miles behind them.

Eventually they reach St. Augustine, where palm trees, warm weather, tourists, and a deeply uncomfortable number of alligators welcome them to Florida.

Side Quest D

Coral Castle

Homestead, Florida

Before heading north, Mike insists on seeing Coral Castle, an extraordinary monument built from massive limestone blocks by one determined man. Robert studies the structure. Mike studies the gift shop. Then they drive several hundred miles back in the direction they originally came from.

Robert and Mike reach Chicago and head straight for Wrigley Field.

Somewhere between baseball, American history, and a completely improbable encounter with Abraham Lincoln, the trip produces one of its more memorable photographs.

Mike believes this proves the itinerary is working.

Robert remains unconvinced.

Roadside Gag

World’s Largest Catsup Bottle

Collinsville, Illinois

Robert and Mike approach St. Louis and one of America’s most recognizable landmarks appears ahead. The Gateway Arch. They do not stop. A few miles earlier, however, they discover a giant catsup bottle. They absolutely stop for that.

Along the Missouri River, Robert and Mike meet Lewis and Clark preparing for one of the greatest expeditions in American history.

Maps cover the table. Supplies are gathered. Horses and wagons wait nearby.

Mike studies their navigation plan carefully.

Then he introduces GPS.

For the first time on the trip, Robert begins wondering why Mike has not been using it himself.

More than a thousand miles later, the station wagon arrives in Boston.

Robert and Mike find themselves surrounded by one of the defining stories of the American Revolution, where tea, protest, and history collide along Boston Harbor.

Robert embraces the historical moment.

Mike finds the biscuits.

After driving thousands of miles in an increasingly exhausted station wagon, Robert and Mike arrive at Kitty Hawk and encounter something revolutionary.

An airplane.

Robert is fascinated by the birth of powered flight.

Mike immediately begins conducting a preflight inspection using standards that will not exist for several decades.

For the first time during the entire journey, Robert quietly wonders whether flying might have been easier.

The final leg sends Robert and Mike west again, across hundreds of miles of American highway until the station wagon finally reaches San Antonio.

By now the car has collected miles, dust, souvenirs, roadside brochures, questionable repairs, and more than a few stories.

Standing at the Alamo beneath the Lone Star flag, Robert and Mike reach the final state of their first American journey.

They have traveled thousands of unnecessary miles to get here.

Neither of them would change the route.

By the time Robert and Mike checked into the motel, they had crossed several states, taken multiple unnecessary detours, and spent an alarming percentage of the travel budget on gasoline and roadside souvenirs.

Mike, the white goose, was finished.

He changed into his pajamas, opened a stack of books on astrophysics, and settled in for an evening researching two important questions:

How does the universe work?

And:

Why does Death Valley seem to have so many UFO stories?

Robert, the yellow duck, had other plans.

While Mike disappeared into a chapter about gravitational anomalies, Robert quietly put his jacket back on, slipped out of the motel room, and followed the glow of a casino sign down the road.

He promised himself he would only look around.

That promise lasted approximately eleven minutes.

Fortunately, Robert did not lose the travel money gambling.

Unfortunately, he discovered the casino buffet.

Prime rib. Shrimp. Pie. Another plate of shrimp. Something involving chocolate. Then a second visit to the carving station because, according to Robert:

“I already paid for unlimited.”

Several hours later, Robert discovered that “unlimited buffet” did not mean unlimited room charges.

By the time the bill arrived, his wallet was considerably lighter than his appetite had suggested.

Unable to cover the entire tab, Robert negotiated what he considered a perfectly reasonable repayment plan.

The casino management had another idea.

So sometime shortly after midnight, guests leaving the casino were greeted by an unusual sight:

A yellow duck in a slightly rumpled suit, waddling laps through the fountain outside the casino with a tip jar.

Robert smiled.

Robert waved.

Robert occasionally bowed.

And slowly, one soggy dollar at a time, the buffet debt disappeared.

Back at the motel, Mike turned another page in his astrophysics book.

Robert eventually returned just before sunrise, dripping wet, carrying three dollars in change and smelling faintly of chlorine and prime rib.

Mike looked up.

“Good night?”

Robert removed his shoes.

“Productive.”

And that was the beginning of Ducks After Dark.