For some reason, I found Day 16 to be less-tedius than Day 15 when it came to driving. Perhaps it was the city driving that was about to occur. On Friday, I had spent the day consuming miles of farmland through South Dakota, Minnesota and Iowa - with little to break up the trip.

Usually, lack of scenery was best handled in the morning, while I was still blurry-eyed. Days like these I would keep from getting my morning coffee until after I put about 100 miles under my belt.

I can say, the drive on US-218 and US-20 was quick. There was only one section of road that wasn't a four-lane freeway. On the way, I hit a local Wal-Mart and was reduced to buying a t-shirt of the Iowa State Cyclones, rather than my normal sweatshirt. I wasn't going to argue. After all, I live in South Carolina - how many days do I get to wear sweatshirts? Actually, in South Carolina, t-shirts are sweatshirts!

Why was I taking this direction through Iowa? Well, I needed Iowa as my 48th of 50 states visited (I am only missing North Dakota and Hawaii) and one of my favorite movies was filmed in Dyersville, Iowa.

Off US-20 about six or seven miles, I came to the "Field of Dreams". The movie set is actually someone's home, but they open it up to visitors who want to have "a catch." It was very cool to be out there early morning on a Saturday, but I actually felt a little sadness when I walked out into the field. I kinda wish my own Dad were along to have a catch with.

Is this heaven? (Dyersville, IA)

I stopped in the souvenir shop and purchased a coffee mug. That mug has already started to wear (two weeks later). I found out after I made the purchase that one of the souvenir shops is authentic and the money goes to keep up the field. The other one (where I went) was a local opportunist who was taking advantage of a prime location. If I were you, I'd frequent the real thing...it's by the house.

Upon returning to my car, I knew I had only one more mission to complete on this long 9,300 mile journey. Cheese curds!

Now, for those of you that don't know, cheese curds are a Wisconsin thing. Stop in a dairy farm or meat packing plant and you can buy a bag of rubbery, oily chunks of cheese. Are you disgusted yet? Hey, it's my one weakness! Okay, so I have other weaknesses, but this guilty pleasure hasn't been rewarded in over 25 years.

When I reached Belmont, I gassed up the car and asked the convenience store clerk where I could buy curds. She told me there was a meat packing plant about a mile behind me. I took off down the road and satisfied my craving with a pound of curds.

The good news is, they were as wonderful as I remembered. The bad news was, I had nowhere to store a pound of cheese...well, I did have one place. So, I decided not to have lunch and I consumed a half-a-pound of cheese. Hmmmm. I survived, but it did clog up the plumbing a bit.

My next stop would be a quick drive-thru of Milwaukee to pick up a Marquette sweatshirt and then on to Chicago.

I reached the Illinois line with moderate traffic. I decided to take the drive directly through Chicago on I-94. I figured...it's Saturday, how bad could traffic be?

Take my advice, don't ask this question. Just pay the toll on I-294 and pass by the "City of the Big Shoulders" if you have no business there. The road system is a mess. You go from two major eight lane freeways, to a single ten lane freeway, to a eight lane as you close in on downtown. Who thought this up?

I sat in Chicago traffic for over two hours. I spent the time listening to WGN and the Cubs and Yankees. Roger Clemens was going for win number 300 and it was a great game. So at least I had some entertainment.

I had no plans in the city, so I snapped a picture of the Sears Tower while I waited and then drove on as quickly as I could.

My next stop was in Indiana. The states were coming rapid-fire now and my sweatshirt budget had been tapped. I stopped at US-30 on the way down I-65, but that exit was a madhouse. I returned to the freeway and made my way to Indianapolis, where I spent my last night on the road.

The last major point of the trip was when I turned the corner to my hotel room and found three ducks all standing in front of my door. Coincidence? I think not. It was twilight and I snapped a couple of pictures, although they all came out blurry. The little fellas were friendly and they kept walking toward me as I snapped pictures. Oh well, so much for my wildlife photography career. My resume says "intimidated by ducks."

I bedded down and relaxed with a great game in the Stanley Cup finals. That night was game six and Anaheim had come back on the goal of their injured captain. The capper.

The next day I drove back through southern Indiana, Kentucky, Tennessee and North Carolina. By 3 pm, I was back in home territory. Mission accomplished.