At our wedding last Fall, a bunch of our friends got along really well with my step-sister and her husband. To the point where, when talking about the road trip down to Kentucky that Kristian and I took last year, we decided that it would be fun to take another one and to bring some friends with us this time. I’m not entirely sure where we got the idea to drive down for the Kentucky Derby. And nobody has any idea where we got the idea to rent an RV for the trip… but those were two fantastic ideas right there so I’m going to go ahead and take all the credit for them.
(Having your own blog does have its perks from time to time).
I wasn’t planning on making the trip while 6 months pregnant (we’d already committed to going when I saw that second little pink line), but it worked out pretty well. If you’re going to drive for 19 hours straight with an adorable little parasite pressed right up against your bladder, I highly recommend bringing along your own bathroom. That probably saved us about 3 hours in bathroom breaks right there. As it was, we pretty much only stopped to buy gas or switch off drivers.
I worked a half day on Thursday and Kristian and our friends used that time to pick up the RV and run some last minute errands. Because I wasn’t there to sign all the paperwork, I was the only person in the group who couldn’t legally drive, quelle horreur. It wasn’t easy to turn down the opportunity to pilot a large hunk of metal at four in the morning, but I was happy to take one for the team.
(Lest you get the impression that I’m a complete and utter slackass, I did do my part to take shifts keeping the various drivers company).
The back bed in an RV sleeps two Canadians and one body pillow. Or three people, if they're OK with a little friends-only spooning.
If I possessed a large garage and too much money, I’d totally buy an RV. And then travel the country with my friends, having wacky hijinks.
The dogs were rather fond of the RV as well.
We drove all through the night (Yogurt was kind enough to take the 2-6am “OMG I can’t believe we’re still on the road” shift) and made it to Louisville sometime around 10am on Friday morning. Which was just in time to gawk at all the crazy hats that the locals were wearing in honor of the Lady Oaks race. And to eat bacon maple bars for breakfast. What’s a maple bacon bar, you ask? Just a little tiny slice of heaven.
A giant cruller covered in maple frosting and bacon. I'm pretty sure you're only allowed to eat one of these a year. Maybe one a lifetime, which is a problem because I get one everytime we drive to Louisville.
About 17 seconds after we arrived in Louisville, I tripped while climbing out of the RV and managed to sprain my ankle. I hadn’t been super mobile to begin with, but after my foot swelled up like a balloon, I was pretty much forced to sit with my foot propped up for the rest of the trip. Lucky for me, we have understanding and patient friends and we were able to find a bunch of activities that were Hope-friendly.
(Clumsy and traumatic fall from the RV not pictured)
Friday afternoon, we hung around on the front porch drinking mint juleps. Gummy Bear and I had a “fauxlep” which is like a mint julep, but contains absolutely no bourbon whatsoever. SO NOT THE SAME THING. I have already informed Kristian that we will be going back to Louisville next year when Gummy Bear is old enough to spend the weekend with Grandma or Grandpa. And I am going to drink my weight in mint juleps. I’m not even that big of a drinker, but I guess we always want what we can’t have. Also mint juleps are delicious. Fauxleps taste like extra-sweet gingerale with a sprig of mint in them. NO COMPARISON.
(Not that I’m complaining).
(Ahem).
Friday night we went to a Cheeseburger party at my sister’s neighbors’ house. What’s a cheeseburger party, you ask? It’s a party like most regular parties. But there are cheeseburgers. And two kinds of french fries. And, if you’re in Louisville during Derby Weekend, there are silly hats. There is also some drinking involved, or so I’m told. I wouldn’t know, I was too busy not complaining.
(Ahem).
That's not a cup, it's a vase. My sister's neighbor is a tall, tall man.
Saturday morning, we headed out to a Kentucky Derby party. But first, we had to stop at an indoor flea market so that we could get food from a Cuban restaurant. Sounds sketchy, yes. But oh so completely delicious.
Not pictured: my taco "salad" covered in bright, orange cheese. I am still bitter about being weighed at the doctors' office the day after we got back.
I don't know if the misspelling of "thoroughbred" makes this strip club more or less tragic.
We won’t talk about getting lost on the way to the Derby Party. We just… won’t. The important thing is that we made it. And that there was pie. What? You go on vacation while 6 months pregnant and hobbled with a bad ankle and see how much you focus on the food.
Oh yeah, and we all put down some money on the ponies. My brother-in-law is always the bookie. Because he makes it look so good. Also, because he can be counted on to not drink a bunch of mint juleps and lose track of everybody’s money.
Not pictured: hookah.
This looks like a man that you don't want to mess with.
Did I mention the pie? Yogurt got an entire pie to himself. And he made a valiant effort at finishing it.
Derby Pie = delicious.
There was also the tallest swing I’ve ever seen in my entire life. It had a long, long rope suspended from one of the top branches of a high, high tree. I guess that’s what happens when you go to parties thrown by arborists. Between my big ass pregnant belly and my sprained ankle, I didn’t get to join in the fun. But Josh and Kristian managed to preempt the kids who were playing on it for a few quick swings.
Not pictured: small children wondering why the tall man is trying to use their swing.
One of two pictures taken of my all weekend. You're not missing much.
Everybody went out drinking on Saturday night. Or, should I say, everyone but me and my brother-in-law went out drinking Saturday night. We hung out, playing Draw Something and watching Grimm. Because we’re awesome.
Sunday morning was my sister and brother-in-law’s traditional post-Derby brunch. I had promised them that, if they hosted us for the weekend, I would provide them with minions. And minions I provided.
By my calculations, Yogurt spent one million billion hours juicing oranges.
Not pictured: me making the best batch of guacamole ever created. If I do say so myself.
Blah, blah, blah, more talking about food.
Blah, blah, blah, Pepper almost composted Kristian’s wedding ring because he left it sitting next to a bunch of food scraps.
(If that ring makes it to our one-year anniversary, I will be astounded. Astonished, even).
Eric gave us an awesome driving tour of Louisville. The city has seen some tough times, but most of the old buildings were well-built and featured all sorts of nifty decorations. And nobody has “modernized” them by chopping off all the parts that make them so interesting. My Dad calls the phenomenon “preservation through neglect.” We saw all sorts of cool, old architecture. Which means, of course, that I didn’t take a single picture. That would have made far too much sense.
(Getting back to food).
Then we bought a bunch of fried chicken and assorted other tasty goodness at a restaurant where the employees are behind bulletproof glass and you have to order through a microphone. Nobody got shot, so all’s well that ends well. We hung out on my sister’s deck, helping them finish off some of their beer and chilling out. Then we all played Draw Something and the boys took the opportunity to draw penises for each other. Because, apparently, that’s what you do when you’re a boy. Or something. I’m so happy to be a girl.
We woke up the next day at dark o’thirty and then packed up and headed back to Boston, very sorry to be leaving such an awesome place full of such awesome friends.
The trip back was pretty cool, though, because it featured:
Josh and Kristian cooking grilled cheese sandwiches for us as we drove.
-and-
Paying homage to my religious heritage at a Quaker Steak and Lube.
I spent most of the drive back home writing a 14 page paper for my Spring class. And napping. But not driving. We drove until something crazy like 3am. Everybody drove while I slept. And our friends still like me! They? Are clearly saints.
The trip was a bit of a whirlwind and I spent most of it sitting on various chairs and benches around Louisville, but it was definitely worth it. We’re hoping to take a similar trip sometime next year, RV and everything.
My ankle? I woke up the day after we got home and it felt completely fine. Because, OF COURSE.
Full photo set here.
Great story. Great pictures.
Speaking of DrawSomething, it’s your turn. I’m sorry I didn’t guess eraser!
I’m sorry, Steak and LUBE?? Is this a thing on the east coast?
I love it that there is a whole group of people in your blog-o-sphere that think that I really look that tough. Thanks for coming, and bringing the minions. Eric (the brother-in-law)
I will catch up tonight, I promise!
It’s a chain, but only in PA. They started off at gas stations or something like that. It’s kindof like Applebees inside.
Thanks for having us!! I still need to send pictures of you and a tiny, tiny baby. Didn’t put them on the blog so you’d look tougher. š
Looks like a blast besides the sprained ankle. I have road-tripped many times but never with an RV… totally the way to go, especially if you can get out of driving š I really want to go to the Derby sometime too, on my Bucket List.