I was the entrusted ice cream-holder as Marisa was forking over the dough for her cold treat, so of course I sampled the product. (Just to make sure she wasn't going to get poisoned or something, you know. I'm a good friend like that.) And well, it tasted... a bit like gasoline. I sniffed the ice cream. I sniffed the cone. The cashier gave me a look, so I stopped sniffing and handed it back to Marisa. Unfortunately, I wasn't crazy. Word to the wise: If you're ever between Madison and Spring Green and you stop at a gas station that has soft serve ice cream in a waffle cone, don't eat it! It's tainted.
For the record, we did make it Spring Green (only two hours later than we'd meant to). We even made it to House on the Rock, dammit. At 5:15. The last tickets are sold one hour before closing, at 6:00. So we pulled up, said hello, took photographic evidence, and then turned right back around.
The ride back was significantly better. (Well, perhaps not for Marisa, who got sick and vomited on the side of the freeway. I blame the gasoline-ice-cream, not the inordinate amount of Pancake Puppies she consumed at Denny's.) On the way home there was less swearing, less U-turns, and less "why are you in the navigator's seat if you can't read maps?"
There was plenty of time for stops on our leisurely trip back, which included:
B. A ferocious/cuddly bear. These pictures weren't on my camera.
A. The pathetic little adorable church where I now want to get married.
(Note the tiny angry person standing on the side of the highway- we drove off without Marisa, lol. That was before she ralphed- I promise we're not that mean! <3)