Take me home, highway road



That's a big river. Guess what's
on the other side?

After hours of driving, we are in fact safely back in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. A chorus of angels cascaded song downward as the RV made its final descent on the Moorland Road exit in New Berlin. After a quick unpacking session, we were free to return to our lives at sea level. There was plenty of oxygen -- way too much in fact, with heat indexes projected well above triple digits in Wisconsin and elsewhere in the midwest.

 The ride home was quicker than the ride out, complete with cribbage games, a brief stop in Omaha, lots of gas stops and assorted periods of sleep.



Road Rage gets personal with the
flow of air conditioning.

Special thanks to all the people who made this trip ridiculous. The Murphy and Frizsche families offered up their homes and their vehicles for the past several days, and thanks to Fast Times (Adrienne) and Whine and Die (Maggie) for spearheading the trip particulars, with some itinerary consultation from Caitlin (The Architect), of course. More appreciation to our drivers, Mike, Adrienne and Maggie, and our financial planners The New Guy (Dan) and Caitlin. This wound up being a wildly inexpensive vacation relative to the amount of things we did and fun we had.

Also, special thanks to Air Force One (Boyd) for his unreasonably good brownies and peanut butter thingies. And kringle!


We found the Bruce, which was the goal of Brucefest, but we collectively decided it was best to re-release him into the wild where he belongs. Word in the wilderness is that The Bruce may find his way to our own Motherland sometime in the next two weeks. Keep your eyes peeled. One never knows when they'll see The Bruce.

Cozad, Nebraska: you suck

For those of you retracing your steps on Brucefest: do not stop in Cozad, Nebraska if you need gas late at night. The one gas station there is probably closed, and the attendant on duty, inexplicably sitting in the lit-up interior? Well she doesn't much care what you need.

So the RV had to get back on the highway and hit up the next booming metropolis of the Nebraskan countryside. I can't believe this is the state we're excited about inviting into the Big Ten. The only thing Big about Nebraska is the reek of its bovine and ovine denizens.

But as we continue our plight back home, things have gone fairly smoothly. We remain a few hours from Omaha, where we will bid a tearful goodbye to Air Force One and his deep baritone perfect-for-narrating-movies voice. Allegedly, our good friend Boyd has a 7 a.m. meeting -- which is in less than six hours -- so he's going to have a tough turnaround. I'm still dreading our 6 p.m. softball game, and that's nothing by comparison.

The Architect was disappointed that my last post offered a bare minimum of information. So as an additional note, I should point out that the Architect's new shorts are very cute.

Stuffed animals to avoid

Departure! After our farewells and distribution of Wisconsin related food stuffs as gifts to our gracious hosts, we have boarded the RV and begun the slow trek east back to Wisconsin. First stop for gas came in Fort Morgan, CO, where they were trying to sell "Lubies" stuffed animals, basically small, fat, overpriced rodents.

The sign proclaimed that the toy was pronounced "Luh-bies," and while I'm no marketing expert, I'm guessing if your signage includes telling people how to pronounce the toy, you might need a new name. Consider "Cuties."

We're going to flight school

Just by posting this picture, the
Brucefest blog has been flagged
by the military.

 Our final day in the Colorado mountains involved a behind-the-scenes tour of the Air Force Academy just oustide of Colorado Springs, courtesy of the Bruce -- himself a graduate and probably the reason why each of his first two children have the initials "AF."

The lanscape is pretty cool, and we also got to check out the as-yet-unopened Holaday Center, which will be dedicated in mere days and serves as the future practice home of the football team and other athletics programs. The New Guy ran a 40-yard dash that was clocked at 4.15, which would have made him an NFL hopeful until we realized that was actually a 30-yard dash time.



Holaday cheer



The Air Force insists on participation in athletics, either intercollegiate or intramurals, and the facilities for such things are ridiculous. It's basically an endless plain of athletics facilities and then some dorms.

Before we go, it's time for some World Cup (we're heading to overtime!) and our final hours at the Murphy and Fritzsche campus.

The Brucefest BBQ

This would be the right moment
for "Higher Ground" by Winwood

I feel sacreligious saying so, but whatever hippy sausages they have in Denver, they're honestly better than the brats you can get in Milwaukee. With The Bruce at the controls, tonight's barbecue featured some seriously amazing bratwurst, not to mention some lawn games, bad Brewers baseball (but a win, so I guess that's something), and visits from various friends in the Bruceosphere.

Tonight's observations:

1. It appears Michigan Left and The Mechanic have become supreme rulers of the cribbage universe.

2. Road Rage is terrible at croquet, just as he was back in fourth grade -- the last time he played.

3. Babies are fabulous conversation centerpieces.

4. Second Half, who will be joining us on tomorrow's RV trip back home, could potentially develop a career as a tightrope walker.

5. Previously mentioned Janella, whose named I spelled wrong in a previous post when she graciously saved me from watching Harry Potter, shall hereby be named Janella "Woman on Wire" Smith, since she REALLY has a career as a tightrope walker waiting for her. Some of the extended Fritzsche family has a knack for such things and brought a cable to the BBQ, attached it between two trees and demonstrated their inner Flying Wallenda. It's not weird. It's Colorado.

A small sidebar

Road Rage loves Pepsi. In Denver, there is a Pepsi Center, home of the Denver Nuggets. The rest: magic.

A river runs through it. And by "it," I mean "Brucefest"

If whitewater rafting is survival of the fittest, then we are damn fit. And, in an unrelated circumstance, very attractive. Take this picture here, which is actually us navigating the Clear Creek. Trusty guide Zach in the back left kept us in the boat, with (clockwise) Fast Times, The Architect, Road Rage, Whine and Die, The Mechanic, The New Guy and Michigan Left all on board.

It was occasionally difficult to figure out if Zach was giving us instruction, since he spent the majority of the trip flirting with Fast Times.

What a fantastic time. Sure, they made Road Rage take off his cotton shirt, thus exposing the horrified masses to his pasty upper torso, but that was fortunately brief as he slid into the wetsuit. And yes, there were a couple anxious moments on a trip when those in the boat experienced temporary gravity loss. The guides said (allegedly) an average of one boat per trip tipped over. But not us. We certainly didn't stay dry or warm the whole time, but we navigated plenty of Class-4 rapids, all with cleverly chosen names, and took in some great scenery. If ever you get a chance to raft the mountains of Colorado, this place should probably be your choice.

Back at our respective campuses, it brings me great sadness to note that Brucefest is almost coming to an end. An evening BBQ awaits us, followed by the final hours in Colorado before we pack up the RV and head to the Motherland.

The Brewers: horrendous

Massive failure looks so pretty.

Our collective dream of inspiring the Milwaukee Brewers to victory completely fell by the wayside, probably because First Half and Fast Times were crimping our juju by subverting the true essence of Brucefest and cheering for the Rockies. Milwaukee had four hits -- two by Nyjer Morgan, two by Prince Fielder -- and fell in a 4-0 embarrassment that left me ready for an 18-hour RV trip back to Milwaukee. Guhhhh.

This isn't stalker behavior. The picture
she has outside the door of the Brewers
hotel in Denver? That's stalker behavior.

But not all was lost. The game was still a good time, Coors Field is still lovely (see visual), Road Rage and Michigan Left made a sign for Whine and Die, allowing her to profess her love for a certain Brewers starting pitcher in concrete terms (see visual), and several members of the RV crew visited the Denver bar scene. Whine and Die met a random guy named Randy. I was going to post his picture, then decided it was not merited. Maybe later. We all know the No. 1 man in Whine and Die's life.

We did happen to find a Brewers bar in town right near Coors Field known as Swanky's, which was wall-to-wall with Brewers fans when we arrived. It was actually a little too crowded, but it was nice to know there was so much support for the Brew in the Mile High City.

In love with First Half's character from the first half of the trip, producers for Brucefest have decided to add yet another character, Jessica "Second Half" Medina. She happens to be the sister of Whine and Die, part of an extended family network that has been exceedingly generous to us this trip. Another Murphy sister, Shannon, has graciously allowed us to stay at their abode for the evening so that we may find ourselves in strategic geographical position for early departure to tomorrow's white water rafting.

A joyous conglomerate of attitude and altitude.

So the Brewers are terrible, but we still have roughly 48 hours left in Denver to continue the Brucefest dream. In addition to whitewater rafting tomorrow, we're expecting a massive barbecue at the Bruce Habitat.

Going gardening

Rock concert



Groupies.



The gods didn't care much for growing herbs and vegetables; instead, their garden was full of massive, glorious rock formations in Colorado Springs. Our crew toured the Garden of the Gods, taking various group photos based on arbitrary classifications -- all-girls photos, photos of the people wearing Brewers hats, photos of people in relationships, etc.

There were plenty of tourists -- enough to give Whine and Die homicidal thoughts as we attempted to worm our way out of the park -- but it was a superb experience. My personal favorite were the "kissing camels" rock formation, which led to a necessary series of photos involving kissing people like The New Guy and the Architect. It's time to bust out the Brewers gear for a downtown Denver experience.

No horcruxes in Denver

Just because we're over a mile above sea level doesn't mean the craziness for wizards,warlocks and lightning-shaped scars has subsided. Some members of our traveling party went to a midnight screening of "Harry Potter: Finally The Last Part of This Never-Ending Story And Some Deathly Hallows or Something" at a theater in Colorado Springs.

This is what Road Rage looked like in the morning.
Guess the elevation is taking its toll.

Michigan Left reported loving it, even though it meant some additional departure from the sleep schedule. I accidentally bought an extra ticket a few days ago when Michigan Left told me a fourth friend would be traveling to the midnight showing with Whine and Die and the Architect, and just as I  looked at her text message saying not to buy the ticket, the transaction processed online. Fortunately, I wasn't compelled to go watch Harold Potter (also known as Daniel Radcliffe in real life, which makes him part of our extended British family), since Adrienne's friend Janelle took the ticket. Not sure if I spelled her name right, and when I get that confirmed, she'll get a proper nickname for our narrative.Because fans of the Potter sequel are uproarious weirdos, waiting until the movie opened Friday was not enough, and battling huge crowds of adults dressed as characters from children's literature in the early morning hours was the preferred option.

The previous evening's dinner was spent at O'Malley's in nearby Lake Palmer, where one must cook their own steak and watch forlornly as the Milwaukee Brewers allow 11 unanswered runs to the local team and fall to the Rockies, 12-3. Great way to start the second half of the season. Fail. Great food, though supremely filling, and terrible baseball that better not be repeated when we check out Denver for ourselves this evening.

Touchdown in Denver

So we totally made it.


A Civil War cannon. So there is that.

The RV may have been running a little hot a the end, but the nine of us survived the trip and made it to Monument, Colorado, where we are staying the the ridiculous campus possessed by Whine and Die's family. Lots of Civil War memorabilia around, including -- I know you guessed this -- a bona fide cannon.

We traveled through beautiful Denver, with Whine and Die's expert drivemanship navigating the busy streets. Today is designed as a relaxation day for the most part so we can get our bearings and catch up on our sleep. Not sure anyone slept more than four hours on the trip, but we all still love each other. We'll see how that goes on the way back, when we're traveling another 1,000 miles and then playing softball immediately Monday evening.

For the moment, we've lost Air Force One and First Half, as they've gone to the compound owned by The Bruce. It's believed we'll make contact with The Bruce later this evening. Our mission is so nearly complete.

Colorado Me Badd

Our lifelong dream of making it to Colorado has been realized! We're not to Denver yet -- still about three more hours of work to get to our final destination -- but we have surged past the border into the Centennial State. The RV continues to be a dominant force of nature.

Fun fact: Eastern Colorado is not the mountainous ski-friendly haven you're picturing. Instead, it's more like a continuation of Nebraska -- grassy plains, occasional villages of beef cows and zero baseball. But we're closer, and I'm doing my air guitar to Guns 'n Roses offering "November Rain." Consequently, awesomeness has ensued.

If this were the Oregon Trail, we would so be at Fort Walla Walla right now. Of course, The Mechanic would have died of cholera, a sad situation assauged only by our recent buffalo kill.

Good morning, Nebraska



Starbucks, coffee cake, a despondent Air Force One and a perky Fast Times. This is morning in middle America.



The sun has risen and so have Road Rage and Michigan Left, probably to the chagrin of the rest of those in the RV, since we were fortunate enough to score prime napper's real state above the driver's cabin. Whine and Die is back at the wheel with Road Rage in the captain's chair, re-living the good old days (also known as the first few hours of the RV voyage).

Fast Times did her part, getting us halfway between Omaha and Denver. We have about five hours and 340 miles left between us and The Bruce. I know he can sense our encroaching presence.

Everyone seems refreshed after a Starbucks run in North Platte. Still nowhere in America has motion-sickness medicine.

Also, Air Force One has demonstrated another of his various talents when not saving the nation -- he makes a mean coffee cake. Fast Times was dishing it out to accompany our various caffeinated beverages. We need to be properly hydrated (with sugar and caffeine) to properly chase The Bruce.

The obligatory random early-morning post

Iowa is behind us. Goodbye to John Wayne's birthplace, Herbert Hoover museums and Iowa Western Community College. Hello, Nebraska, home of Air Force One. We toured his lovely home at 3 a.m. on Thursday morning, and he apparently has very good taste in reading, with books that include When Pride Still Mattered, Moneyball and some book that says "Boyd" in huge letters on the side.

We'll be starting on our third driver now that we've arrived in Omaha, and with Fast Times at the wheel, we'll begin the long drive through Nebraska. Some have been able to sleep, which is delightful, though your faithful author is not one of them. And what's with the roadside gas stations of America's heartland lacking in motion sickness medication?

We have Air Force One in our possession. America, and most importantly the RV, is safe.

Slumber sets in

After a quick gas refill in the Quad Cities, The Mechanic is at the wheel and our cast of characters has begun to take to slumber. Fast Times, presumably the next driver in the early hours of the morning, sleeps above my perch in the captain's chair. Whine and Die, after serving her time as our first driver, sleeps on the couch, and The New Guy, First-Half, and the Architect have all found a place to rest their eyes.

Of course, the real drama is whether or not some of our sleeping friends will be able to properly transform the table and seating area into a bed. If only The Mechanic weren't presently operating the vehicle, perhaps it coule be configured.

The most recent roadside sign tells us we have less than 100 miles to go before Des Moines. Semi truck drivers have been blowing our doors off all night, though the RV seems to have the advantage going uphill as we travel the rolling hills of Iowa. I forget which boat that makes us like in Pirates of the Caribbean -- are we the Black Pearl or the Flying Dutchman?

I took a picture of the Mississippi River, but it looks an awful lot like someone took a flash reflected in a car window at night.

The landscape: unknown (darkness). The Bruce will be hard to find until daylight shines upon us.

The story of Narvy

Seeing that the ESPY Awards are the biggest thing going on in sports (well, at least since the World Cup games ended in the afternoon), this is probably an ideal day to travel. It seems the Brian Wilson spandex suit has been the best thing about the evening in sports, and that's a pretty bad indictment. Baseball will blissfully be back tomorrow, with the first game of the Colorado Rockies-Milwaukee Brewers series.

We will be there for the second game, and I just discovered that Chris Narveson will be pitching for the Brewers. This is a very good thing for Whine and Die. Because Whine and Die is in love with Narvy.

Perhaps it was the fact that he has ties to Colorado, just as she does. Perhaps it was that bizarre chance encounter at the Tim McGraw concert, when Fast Times and W&D got magically upgraded at Summerfest and wound up in front row seats next to a batch of Brewers. Perhaps it was when Narvy coincidentally moved into the same building as W&D. But somewhere along the way, an obsession was born.

Narveson has pitched several games that we've seen this year -- six of us are part of the 9-game season ticket package at Miller Park, and Narvy has pitched at least three games we've seen so far. To Whine and Die, each game is another opportunity to ply her stalking craft.

Fast Times just commented that she was disappointed to be mising the ESPYs because her own sports-related crush, a far more conventional Aaron Rodgers, was scheduled to present. Whine and Die correctly points out that it's not football season.

It's Narvy Season.

Are we in Iowa yet? We haven't even crossed the 200-mile threshold. The current landscape: cornfields.

FIB Country

We have crossed out of Wisconsin, shortly before our first stop at the side of the road. Fun fact: RV's can actually expand on the side, and The Architect demonstrated that for us before we left her driveway. Not as fun fact: the side probably shouldn't be out while you're driving, but it was still out a few inches before some guys with tattoos in a truck pulled up alongside and told us to roll down the window.

So, thanks Tattooed Guys in a Truck. Much respeck.

We pulled off to the side of the road and got that taken care of, somewhere between Rockford and the rest of Illinois. Fast Times has napped. Road Rage tried but instead found himself in the captain's chair trying to ward off his queasy nature. Whine and Die remains at the wheel, blasting tunes such as Hugo cover of "99 Problems (But a Bitch Ain't One)."

The current landscape: cornfields. Occasional pasture of cows.

We're coming for you, Bruce.

On the road and first disaster

Roughly 0.2 miles after leaving the driveway at Casa de la Arcitechta, a cooler tipped over and water ran all over the RV hallway. Road Rage can be blamed for the poor placement of the cooler, and for a moment RV was short for "River."

Approximately 120 dollars worth of gas and paper towels later, and we're set for the open road. Wish us luck. Also, if we crash and burn, could someone please figure out a way to delete the blog, except for the post about great things to see on our voyage (in case someone elects to re-trace our intended steps).

There also appears to be some sort of festival involving bikers at this gas station.

Departure day

Mere moments remain before we depart. Who's excited?

Landmarks to watch for

Anytime one voyages into new territory, it's often a good idea to learn a little about the road ahead. With so many interesting cities between Milwaukee and Denver, I thought I'd break down some of the possible stopping points, focusing primarily on the urban metropolisis (there are so many!) on the voyage.

Allegedly, The Mechanic is already plotting an alternate route from the Google Maps proposition, so this may not be an accurate list. But assuming the chosen path is a good one, I have embarked to describe each of the superb landmarks between the two locations. Using the source of all knowledge, Wikipedia, I am also blending this analysis with one of my favorite games, Two Truths and a Lie.

Considering the gas mileage in an RV,
this could be our first stop.

Elkhorn, WI (mile marker 47). In the early 19th century, Colonel Samuel Phoenix spotted a rack of elk antlers in a tree and continued to proclaim the area as "Elk Horn." Phoenix's great, great, great, great, great grandson, Joaquin Phoenix, once shot a man in Reno just to watch him die. Elkhorn has been known as the nation's "Christmas Card Town" since the city has been placing unique Christmas decorations around its center since before World War II. This tradition of being the "Christmas Card Town" is celebrated and noted every year with the oil paintings done by local artist Jan Castle Reed.

I've been traded to RAY-seen!

Rockford, IL (mile 94). During the 1940s the Rockford Peaches of the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League won four championships, but they did not reach the championship final in 1943, as was depicted in feature film "A League of Their Own." In 1979, construction began on the MetroCentre, a 10,000 seat multi-purpose arena located on the west side of downtown, now nicknamed the Big Orange Box because of its monochromatic appearance. Several major bands, all under the incorrect assumption that there must be more than one city in the state of Illinois, have played at the MetroCentre.

Iowa City, IA (mile 263). Iowa City was created by an act of Legislative Assembly of the Iowa Territory on January 21, 1839, fulfilling the desire of Governor Robert Lucas to move the capital out of Burlington and closer to the center of the territory. The 134-year-old Saint Patrick's Catholic Church was heavily damaged only minutes after Holy Thursday Mass by tornadoes in 2006, with most of its roof destroyed. The building was ruled a total loss and has since been demolished. As a result, Iowa City does not celebrate St. Patrick's Day.

Phoebe loves Des Moines

Des Moines, IA (mile 374). Because Des Moines translates in French to "of the monks," the city has a widespread fascination with The Monkees, particularly 1966 debut single "Last Train to Clarksville." Further evidence of this reality is the presence of the Great Ape Trust of Iowa, which was established as a scientific research facility with a 230-acre campus housing bonobos and orangutans for the noninvasive interdisciplinary study of their cognitive and communicative capabilities. Adventureland Park, in neighboring Altoona, boasts more than 100 rides and attractions, including a series of roller coasters that Michigan Left will quickly dismiss as "not as good as Cedar Point."

We will not be driving over this bridge.

Omaha, Neb. (mile 509). Omaha was a stopping point for settlers and prospectors heading west, either overland or via the Missouri River. The Steamboat Bertrand sank north of Omaha on its way to the goldfields in 1865. Its massive collection of artifacts is on display at the nearby Desoto National Wildlife Refuge. The Bob Kerrey Pedestrian Bridge was opened to foot and bicycle traffic on September 28, 2008. Given that both the bridge and Omaha native Air Force One both embody a fair quotient of badassery, it is assumed that Air Force One has bungy jumped off the Bob Kerrey.

Nebraska's phallic masterpiece.

Lincoln, Neb. (mile 565). The Nebraska State Capitol in Lincoln is the second tallest of the country's capitol building, behind only Louisiana, and no building is allowed to rival the skyscraper (with golden dome on top) in height according to city zoning laws. The International Quilt Study Center and Museum there is home to the largest known public collection of quilts in the world, which is why Lincoln is also the world's leader in grandmas and rocking chairs. The residents actually changed the town's name, from Lancaster, in a ploy to prevent the government from moving the state capital there, believing the confederate-sympathizing population wouldn't stand for a relocation to a city by that name. Haha.

Kearney, Neb. (mile 689). It can be assumed that because the most significant item in Kearney resembles an overpass (the Great Platte River Road Archway Monument, a museum paying tribute to the area's pioneer history), that there is nothing much happenin in K-Town. It also gives me an opportunity to point out that I refuse to use the proper abbreviation of "NE" for Nebraska towns, because that reminds me of the New England Patriots, which I despise.

Buffalo Bill or Richard Daley?

North Platte, Neb. (mile 784). Today, North Platte is served only by freight trains, but during World War II, the city was famous for the North Platte canteen, when thousands of volunteers from the area met the troop trains passing through and offered hospitality. The Buffalo Bill Ranch State Historical Park is located nearby, offering a living history of Buffalo Bill Cody. High crime rates in the 1930s caused the area to be referred to as "Little Chicago," as depicted in the novel "Evil Obsession" by Nellie Snyder Yost. The title has since been revoked, since North Platte does not have buildings.

Sterling, Co. (mile 921). And you thought Nebraska was boring? Sterling is the major shopping hub for most of northeastern Colorado, with stores like Wal-Mart, The Home Depot and JC Penney. There are no more truths available, so I won't even offer a lie.

Unverified proof of The Bruce's
existence. Photographer unknown.

Monument, Co. (mile 1,096). Pat Garrity, an NBA player who was made famous as the other guy in the draft-day trade that swapped Dirk Nowitzki to the Dallas Mavericks and sent Robert Traylor to the Milwaukee Bucks, is native of Monument. Monument Creek is a gentle mountain stream beginning in the Rampart Range. It eventually tumbles down through Palmer Lake and through the west side of Monument to become one of the main waterways flowing through Colorado Springs. The Bruce can be spied near these waters, foraging. It is my belief that we will find The Bruce. And we will learn his ways.

The Brucefest Soundtrack

Even as mp3s slowly but surely take over the planet, all great movies require a bitchin' soundtrack, and Brucefest is no different. Here's a glimpse at the track listing...

"I'm On a Boat" by the Lonely Island (f/T-Pain). This song, a masterpiece cultivated by Saturday Night Live Digital Short-Busser Andy Samberg, is a parody of rap music cliches, and we will attempt to make a parody of the parody with a re-mixed version called "I'm on an RV." It won't have the same syllabic cadence, but it will have just as much T-Pain. When we have a reprise at the end of the Brucefest experience (which I'm pretty sure will flat-out be a musical), we'll sing the normal words as we raft down the Arkansas River.

"Ain't Going Down (Til The Sun Comes Up)" by Garth Brooks. We should probably play this as we're departing from the parking lot, given a title that is a propos as we drive through the night to reach our destination, a country flavor pleasing to the majority of our cast and an up-tempo offering. Bonus points for anyone that knows all the words and is unabashedly willing to sing them. That's me raising my hand.

"I Can't Drive 55" by Sammy Hagar. Once Whine and Die takes the wheel of the RV, I'm pretty certain this song is going to be on a loop at all times. A song dedicated to the furious rage of slow-moving traffic, Hagar combines hair-metal sensibilities with general disdain for Others, a flavor perfect for Whine and Die's character.

"On the Road Again" by Willie Nelson. The anthem of travelers everywhere and a hearken back to when The Mechanic and Fast Times hit up Farm Aid last year. Willie Nelson has been a part of RV culture for decades.

"Rocky Mountain High" by John Denver. It's a simultaneous celebration of our destination, our disposition and terrible folk music, but really it's a cautionary tale to remind us that when you're closer to the sun, you need more sunscreen.

"Mountain Song" by Jane's Addiction. This song is notable because its video was banned from MTV because of nudity scenes. In the RV, we have no such qualms about nudity.

"Drive" by Alan Jackson. Everyone remembers their first driving experience, and everyone remembers their first time driving a massive RV across four states.

"Open Road Song" by Eve 6. With Road Rage in the car, alternative rock is a must at least for small portions of the trip, and one of his favorites is this band composed of verbose teenage rockers, who present this delightfully simple ode to leaving one's cares behind and hitting the highway. I'm not sure if the RV can get up to 80 on the open road like the protagonist of the song, but we can at least try.

"Born To Run" by Bruce Springsteen. As we high-tail it through blue-collar middle America, doesn't it seem particularly appropriate to have a song by a guy named Bruce? There will, however, be no Bruce Hornsby. Perhaps Road Rage's recent cover of Bananarama's "Cruel Summer" (re-imagined as "Bruce Summer") will make the list. Perhaps not.

"Air Force Ones" by Nelly. Once we get to Omaha and pick up Air Force One, there is really no reason why this song shouldn't be playing. Unless the RV is full of haters.

"Center Field" by John Fogerty. We're going to see a baseball game, many of us like baseball (Road Rage hates it) and we're going to stop over in Omaha, home of the College World Series. That calls for at least one great baseball song, and though "Paradise by the Dashboard Lights" might be most people's first choice when considering the fusion of baseball and motorized vehicles, the more recognizable timeless baseball-related anthem will do.

"Don't Stop Believin'" by Journey. Obviously.

"Across the Universe" by the Beatles. Because who doesn't love the Beatles, and who doesn't love a song that talks about driving across the country? Actually, that's probably not what the song is about. Nobody knows what it's about, because the Beatles were particularly high (not the Rocky Mountain kind) during this period in their career. But who doesn't love the Beatles?

"All I Need is a Miracle" by Mike and the Mechanics. Given that one of our characters is named Mike "The Mechanic," it's pretty clear that this band will have to be represented, obviously during a scene in which The Mechanic is primarily featured. Probably the one where our whitewater rafting instructor gets thrown from the boat, and The Mechanic saves us all by taking charge and leading us to dry land, despite Road Rage screaming like Jamie Lee Curtis and flailing his arms.

"Higher Love" by Steve Winwood. Every road trip needs a passionate singalong, particularly one where everyone is immediately embarrassed that they participated. Fifty years from now when half of us are dead and the other half are looking back on the RV trip, do you know what they'll remember? Steve Winwood.

The characters of Brucefest

JR "Road Rage" Radcliffe -- Road Rage will be your trustworthy author on this voyage of 2,000 miles, painting himself as the hero whenever possible. He loves baseball, hates baseball and loves talking about baseball.

Mike "The Mechanic" Miller -- One of the trip's three drivers, The Mechanic brings a laid-back attitude to cross-country voyageering, and possibly the most mechanically-inclined mind should something go horribly wrong. He also promises to supply a healthy offering of country music to the trip's soundtrack, including his original song, "Kiss My Ashwaubenon."

Adrienne "Fast Times" Fritzsche -- The second of our three drivers has a penchant for keeping her foot on the gas, but she knows the path we're traveling better than anyone as a native of Colorado. She also knows The Bruce, I hear, though it is still believed that The Bruce is purely legend.

Maggie "Whine and Die" Murphy -- The third of our drivers knows her way around heavy machinery, but she's got zero tolerance for those who aren't interested in her particular highway. Will the rest of the group come back with all limbs attached after an excursion with the fearless Whine and Die?

Liz "Michigan Left" Radcliffe -- An experienced traveler in her own right, Michigan Left will probably be found in the upper recesses of the top bunk napping, but she's visited the great Colorado before and knows her way around a whitewater raft. Also, she's married to Road Rage, meaning she'll be thought of reverently throughout the blogging proceedings.

Caitlin "The Architect" Croegaert -- One of the driving forces behind both the acquisition of the RV and the division of labor (Road Rage is in charge of both the blog and the cooler), the trip would not be made possible in quite the same way without The Architect. You know how The Matrix had an architect? She's exactly like that.

Annette "First-Half" Fritzsche -- Fast Times' sister is along for at least the first half of the ride, making the trip to Denver before her character is eliminated by budget cuts from the mini-series. We anticipate an amazing yet ambiguous departure for her character (in case we get picked up for a second season), possibly involving a parachute, some flames, three German Shepherds and a self-addressed envelope. The question is: will she find The Bruce before time runs out?

Boyd "Air Force One" Fritzsche -- Yet another of the Fritzsche clan with potential ties to The Bruce will join the ride in Omaha, then depart at the same stop on the way back. It's always difficult for mid-season additions to mesh with members of the original cast, but we have high hopes for this one. He also flies planes.

Dan "The New Guy" Kovatch -- A love interest for The Architect and a late addition to the cast, The New Guy will perhaps endure the toughest test of all, surviving the voyage with a bunch of people he's only met once or twice. It's quite possible he'll flee by jumping off the RV on some highway in Iowa.

One week away

We have arrived at the one-week mark before departure on Brucefest '11, a gathering of eight courageous souls in an RV, traveling more than 1,000 miles one way from Milwaukee, Wisconsin to Denver, Colorado.

The goal is fun. And the goal is Bruce.

With a baseball game between the Rockies and Brewers on tap (note the clever reference to beer there), a whitewater rafting trip, sight-seeing and possibly some beer consumption, the trip promises to succeed where "Road Rules" failed. I don't know precisely where Road Rules failed, but it's no longer on MTV, so it must have failed. Not enough circles of death or bloody gauntlets at the end of each episode, apparently. But we'll have that.

The six-day whirlwind will feature highs and lows, exhaustive travel and dangerous terrain, one majestic RV, several members of one Colorado-based family and possibly a blood feud between warring baseball factions. The only question is, "Who will play each character when the made-for-TV movie comes together?"