We arrived in Detroit late last night and scored a place to
stay nearby. A quick power four hours of sleep and we were out to town. I am
quite a petrol head and Detroit is the birthplace of so many historic motor
vehicle trends, shops, muscle culture and (most importantly) the Henry Ford
manufacturing yard.
Ford for the Aged
To be honest I was quite disappointed by the Ford Museum. I
felt it focused far too much on the overall American motoring history and how
cars have been built over the years as opposed to what I was expecting: Ford focused, Petrol
head mania. I thought there would be disassembled big block V8’s in a display cabinet,
a crashed Capri from a James Dean movie, Teladaga 500 cup winner, a RS200 or an
original LeMans GT40. I thought there would be a show case with Bonnie and
Clyde’s bullet hole ridden Delux, a Shelby masterpiece or a Cosworth winged
monster and tons of other impeccably restored vehicles. It wasn’t that. It was
down right boring.
Okay I may be a bit harsh here. There were a few amazing
cars there, not to mention a Maybach 41 (yes, I thought the same thing) and it
is worth the visit (if you're a Grandad) but it is not what the modern day, grass roots, Ford fan is
looking for in terms of a history lesson.
Feeling a bit depressed from that and quite on edge from our
bus journey we headed into Detroit…oh wait. Flip I just realised I have been
telling you all about “our two little wheeled suitcases”. They didn’t exist
yet. From the time we dropped off the Harley until now we were carrying our
stuff around like Gypsies. Okay – so we head into Detroit and go to a Thrift
store to try get ourselves some bags.
Hey Mcelroy
Thrift stores are awesome. This particular one was a
Salvation Army store and it had endless amounts of stuff. We had our aim and
ignored everything else. We purchased these two bags (yip those two) for less
than 10 dollars. We stripped out our Gypsy cover all type bags and packed into
these new ones.
From there we went around the corner, had a bite to eat at
Slows and our very first bourbon. Not because we have been avoiding bourbon but
because it has been too expensive in comparison to a beer…or a mortgage
payment. Being a whisky drinker (without the “e”) means that bourbon is quite
difficult to find positives in. It is a cruel mistress.
A Bourbon Beat Down
What strikes you first is the aroma – the aroma of bourbon
is next to none. The old barrel flakes caress your nose and the subtle spices
float around your senses like a cloud of perfume. Let us compare Bourbon to a
beautiful woman. Your senses feel like that moment when you spot a beautiful women
walking towards you in the street and as she passes by your imagination is swept
away by her perfume. It’s lovely. Your heart skips a beat and the world seems
brighter. As you raise the glass you notice her curves, the full bodied nature
of the way it clings to the glass rim and how the light trickles through the
perfectly filtered fluid. As you admire her, you take a sip.
Then, you notice something very odd. A huge
penis. She is in fact, a he. A seriously pissed off she-he. She-he kicks you
in the throat and belts the back of your head with a stick and continues to
beat you in the street until you’re stripped of your dignity –coughing and
spluttering to survive. Bourbon tastes terrible.
Okay – so perhaps similar to the Ford Museum I was expecting
more of what I enjoy and not really going in there with the understanding that
the Americans have their own style. It is not whisky.
Top Tip No. 11: If you find bourbon as difficult on the pallet
as I do then I suggest that you tone down the alcohol content (down to the 80 percent
proof mark) and then go for the more aged selection. I eventually found BullietBourbon which I thoroughly enjoyed actually. It is not as aggressive. Second
suggestion is to drink it neat. No ice or anything. I think keeping the full
extent of the “flavor” locked into the glass helps underwhelm the experience.
Detroit of Old
From there it was back into the bright sun light and across
the road to the old Michigan Station. Pretty surreal looking place. Basically
the collapse of the trade and industry in Detroit has led to a lot of the
investors leaving and a huge collection of buildings going unoccupied.
This
particular one has always been on my bucket list. Unfortunately we couldn’t go
inside because they have fenced it off pretty well now. So with our Saffa senses
on high alert (being around a derelict building and all) this guy walks up to
us: “Hi there folks, do ye wanna know a bit about my old girl here?” pointing
at the building. “Naa that’s okay thanks, we are just here for a short while”.
“Come on now, leave your bags right there and lem’me tell yall a little about her”.
Saffa sense red alarms bells ringing, Defcon level 4. The totsi wants our bags!
Long story short – we were idiots. The guy literally just
wanted to share the history with us. He told us about the old slave trade
tunnels and how the building is being used in the Superman vs Batman films and how “dem
gang bangers and hobo’s kicked that guard rail there down off the building”. Okay
yes: he did ask for a tip at the end which we had nothing in response but I
still felt really guilty for assuming the criminal in every helpful person so
far this journey.
We headed back into the main town area, had a bite to eat at
the famous Anchor Bar and wondered around the city filled with old churches and
monuments. You could definitely feel the general crime statistics where a long
way off from our mid-Nevada Route 66 touring but if you keep off the streets
after sun set it is a safe and comfortable place to walk around as any.
We headed to the bus depot and got our tickets for the next
leg. We are still travelling up north towards the Niagara Falls.
This time we
have an overnight drive on the bus that ends at 2am in the middle of nowhere.
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