The Last Dance: The Fourth and Final Day of the Purple Hat Road Trip
The Missouri morning was off to a miserable start when we had no luck finding purple hats across multiple department stores in Kansas City, including a Costco we went to at about 9:30 am that didn’t open until 10. 5 Dooms. We abandoned KC and headed for Kirksville, MO, home of the purple wearing Truman State Bulldogs.
On Route 69 Kirksville, I asked if we could pull over so I could get a picture next to one of the signs on the disposable film camera I bought for the trip. He said he “would not enable that stupid joke.” Klemmer has high scale taste when it comes to humor, and thinks that the 69 joke is bottom of the barrel. Agreeing to take that picture, according to Klemmer, “would be like buying [me] heroin.”
After a 2 and a half hour drive across agricultural Missouri, we parked in a sunbaked beige parking lot that was about 5% full. Not many students were around, but the purple university banners gave us a spark of hope. That spark must have caught some dry brush, because 10 feet into the student center, we saw our first purple hat in the show-me state.
Sweet victory all thanks to this man.
Refueling on drive-thru Mickey D’s, we called an audible and decided to forego our original plan of heading from Missouri to Des Moines and instead shoot for Davenport, Iowa. It’s more on the way back to Chicago, and since we were up against the clock at this point in our quest, any extra time we could use hat hunting was precious.
En route to the land of Caitlyn Clark, I wanted to answer a question in my head that lingered since the moment I was first informed of my involvement with this trip.
I asked Klemmer if he rocks with Migos.
“The band?” he says.
Migos is one of my favorite groups ever. Growing up a suburban white under negligible threat of gang violence, I cannot relate much to their tales of trapping and robbing. I think there’s just something that hits about their energy of moving with confidence wherever the world is fortunate enough to feel you big steppin.
He threw on a Migos spotify playlist, and I took Chris Klemmer through the eras. Versace: “Not for me, but it’s not making my ears bleed. I’m probably just too old.” Bad and Boujee and Walk It Like I Talk It he liked more. After those 3 songs, I gave Klemmer the out and said we can switch it up, but he said “ahhhh we’ll let the migos play until we get there.” I am not giving Klemmer a Certified Trapaholic stamp, but I think we should all consider him a friend of the North Atlanta streets.
In Davenport, we tried a Walmart, two Hy-Vee grocery stores, another Walmart, and a Target. Surprise, surprise. No dice. Knowing in our hearts that we were down two outs in the bottom of the ninth, our last effort for a final hat before returning to Chicago was hitting the Mississippi river bank for a late dinner.
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The main strip of Davenport matched the theme of our trip so far, barren wasteland. To make matters worse, nearly every restaurant or bar we found closed their kitchen at 9 pm. A hangry Klemmer admitted how much he missed New York. I can’t blame him though, no food anywhere at only 9 pm is unpatriotic and borderline sinful.
I, too, found myself ready to get back to Chicago. Don’t get me wrong, this has been a paid trip of a lifetime, and I’ve gotten to see so many cool things I didn’t know I’d ever see. However, surviving off diet mountain dew, grass fed American beef, and high sodium road snacks is only sustainable for a few days maximum.
Klemmer and I eventually found Boozies Bar and Grill in downtown Davenport, and thanks to the good lord above (tim tebow) the kitchen was still open. We shared a couple cold bevs and reminisced on the hardships we faced on our noble quest, lengthy in both distance and time elapsed. If you stuck a random pair of guys like me and Chris Klemmer together, it would be hard to know what to expect. The students of Kansas State encountered this first hand when someone thought our purple hat bartering was code for human trafficking.
But despite our unconventional vibes as a duo, I think we have both discovered in our week across the country that we are more alike than different. I am happy to call Klemmer a friend, and we will be forever bonded over the miles we shared over a perhaps pointless purpose.
We return to Chicago in the morning, in time for Friday’s Yak, with five hats from our trip. It is not as many as we had initially hoped, but our shortcoming was definitely not due to a lack of effort. Bagging 10% of the country in three and a half days isn’t all that bad in my book.
W of the Day: Driving across farm country in Missouri and Iowa today felt like being on another planet. Corn and corn and more corn for as far as the eye could see. The weather has also been amazing for nearly all of our trip. This has been an immeasurable life vest for road trip vibes.
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L of the Day: No hat in Iowa is a huge sting. Who knows though, maybe we’ll get lucky at hotel breakfast before we hit the road.
Thanks to everyone who kept up with our mission and read the penmanship of a noble intern.
Until next time,
Jakob