Day 20

This morning we were treated by Brain to an inside look at the Mayo Clinic, a research/treatment facility that is bigger and more diverse than I'd ever imagined. While I'd always though you'd have to be referred here for special attention, patients come from all over for treatment. The key is the clinics vast resources and efficiency; if you want something treated fast and by the best, this is the place to come.

My only disappointment is that the Clinic doesn't live up to the stereotypical version of hospitals. There were no doctors storming out of surgery and throwing their masks down in disgust, no paging system (Dr. Howard, Dr. Fine, Dr. Howard), and no dramatic encounters set to organ music like you used to see in the soap operas. Instead, the doctors all wear coats and ties, they use pocket pagers to receive messages, and everyone hurries through the corridors and underground passages on their way to whatever work awaits them.

It's easy to see just how much medicine dominates the town. The local cable system has a channel that shows operations 24 hours a day, with commentary. I wonder if the color guy uses a telestrator and slo-mo replays ("Let's look at that incision again, Frank.") Perhaps the doctors and nurses will start wearing corporate logos on their scrubs, and there'll be a "wrap-up" show at 6:00 and 11:00 with news, scores, and highlights. Why should lawyers have all the fun with "Court TV?"

Despite the serioiusness and dedication that goes with medicine, the people of Rochester have a sense of humor. An former conical signal tower at the old airport has been painted to look like a corncob, and the town's minor league baseball team is nicknamed the Canadian Honkers.

We bid our farewells to Helen and Brian (twice, as Scott forgot his dirty laundry bag and we had to backtrack 15 miles) and continued making our way south and east. The Rover gave us a little scare when it started missing at high speed. After nearly three weaks of bears and bounces, this was no time for the truck to give up (even if we are in much friendlier territory if anything is seriously wrong). Eventually, the problem disappeared, but it's still a mystery as to what caused it. Those thoughts of pioneers and glaciers really seem far away now.

Tonight, I'm again surrounded by Elvis and the Stooges. I'm not really interested in letting the King be my little teddy bear, but his presence does have a reassuring quality to it. We've made it to the Jackowiac's in Darien, Ill., and with a full belly of pizza, I'm ready to settle down for the last night on the road. This was the first waystation on the trip out and it'll be the last stop before heading home tomorrow. We're watching "Spinal Tap" on cable as we munch on stuffed pizza, I'm reminded that the last time I watched TV was at the hotel in Inuvik a week ago. Aside from keeping up with sports scores, I really haven't missed it (and with Comedy Central's incessant commerical breaks that last longer than the movie portions, I know why). We've usually been in range of the CBC or American radio stations, so we know what's going on in the world. There have been no rap, Latin, or all-talk stations for the past two weeks, and I really had no idea about the bargains I was missing on QVC. Maybe when I get home, I'll be a little less eager to grab the TV remote and spend more time listening to the stereo or watching the world from my patio. (Well, except for football, which finally gets started tomorrow. And there's those "Twin Peaks" reruns I've been watching. And those movies on video that I was reminded of this trip....argghhh, my resolve is starting to decay already!)

Looking up from the couch, I notice a poster Frank has stuck on the ceiling (trust me, folks; ya gotta see this place to believe it). Moe, Larry, and Curly are clad in graduation caps and gowns, and are giving the camera a hearty thumbs up. The caption reads, "What do we do now?" That's a good question. After all the weeks of preparation, planning, and doing, this grand expedition is almost over. We have a ton of memories, photos, souvineers, and credit card receipts from gas stations from coast to coast. But he have a lot more; we have the satisfaction of having successfully completed a journey and seen things that most people will never do (let's not get into the question of whether they'd want to). We've experienced lifesytles and made friends in some of the remotest parts of our continent, where people don't care about politics or other petty things of life, but rather getting by and making the most out of life. We survived a scare and can now laugh about it (well, cautioiusly anyway). We didn't see Bigfoot, but we did see Elvis. And we were reminded of the importance of being good neighbors, even if the neighborhoods are 4,000 miles apart.