The bulk of the ride from Chicago to Madison was much less interesting than that from Cleveland to Chicago. This was good because it allowed Gabe and me to get some mildly restful sleep, which is not likely to recur during the contest.

The end of the ride was much more interesting. A few blocks from the Madison terminus, the bus simply pulled over and stopped. A few moments later, the driver exited. Once waiting became tedious, we began theorizing about whether we should just walk to the station, weighing the slightly unknown distance (we couldn't actually see it) against the very unknown duration of over-pulling (we had no idea why this was occurring). Once theorizing became tedious, I noticed a throbbing light coming from behind the bus. It was a police car. I'd assumed that Greyhound and the police had an understanding that a Greyhound driver should not be bothered, because sometimes he needs to drive fast to do his job. Apparently I was wrong. Gabe and I opted out of walking an unknown small distance, preferring to sit in our not quite comfortable seats a bit longer and complain about waiting. This made sense at the time.

Eventually the bus driver returned, the bus turned right, and we traveled the remaining several blocks to the station, where Gabe's friend Senay picked us up. We drove past some of the schools they'd attended in their youth, the building where they used to climb on the roof and hang out, and the domiciles of some oft-referenced persons from the Tales of Gabe's Fun Friends From Home. Finally, we stopped at the house of Gabe's mom to regroup and determine lunch plans. While there, I played the piano as dog Nina sang along. For some reason, Gabe's mom felt compelled to open a perfectly closed container holding three huge cockroaches and poke them with a stick for us. This directly violated the Lemma of Cockroach Containment Inertia.

We picked up Gabe's friend Ben and Ben's friend Mien (who indeed had a pleasant demeanor), and headed downtown for lunch at Chatara, where food derived from the cuisine of Nepal was served. Somehow, Madison has two such restaurants. Despite being from the Chicago area, where one can find most any ethnic food, I'd never had food of Nepal before. (Note that I am not even attempting to determine the adjectival form of Nepal.) It was decent, but I think I'd prefer a lunch buffet at one of the Indian restaurants on Chicago's Devon Avenue.

We walked around downtown Madison, which essentially consists of State Street and the campus of the University of Wisconsin-Madison. The downtown area is pleasant, partly due to the quaint organization of gratuitous coffeeshops and bookstores, and partly due to the tens of thousands of college folk walking about. The AQ (Attractiveness Quotient) of these people, despite the significantly higher sample size, was even higher than that of Harvard Square. Impressive! (I still need to check the legendary Miami University in person. One wonders whether there is a screening process at these schools.) We walked through one of the two student unions (could CWRU borrow one?) on our way to frozen Lake Mendota, where we tried to step on the slightly icy snow without creating footprints. I overcame my handicap as the least dainty person there and managed to do it.

Having seen enough of the town, we got our move on toward Kaukauna. Gabe's erstwhile teacher Senson drove Drew, Gabe, and me in his van, where I got a much-needed nap — sleep of higher quality than I'd garnered on the bus trips. In Kaukauna, we had a gigantic dinner at Landy's Hyland House Supper Club, the last real meal we'd eat all weekend. I ingested poppers, fried mushrooms, clam chowder, half a lobster, and a slab of beef. Fantastical. Met Gabe's friend Chaboud. Senay roamed the tables for leftovers and performed his usual feats of mass nutrient assimilation. Chris commenced filming most everything on his digital camera.

After dinner, we got ourselves set up in the Kaukauna Public Library. The refrigerator was stocked with noshular items, including significant amounts of caffeine-laden carbonated beverages. The contest started. New rule this year: only three and half minutes to answer each question, down from five minutes, due to Internet search engines. Fair enough. Once I got a clue about how things worked, I got on a computer and found the names of the mascots at the Nagano Olympics, my first correct answer.

In order to receive points for an answer, one member of a team must verify it with contest judges by telephone. If the answer is correct, the caller is asked for the name of his team. A surprising amount of strategy is required here. First, we shout out “Got it!” to prevent duplicate answers by teammates also calling, which would nullify our points for that question. Next, our team uses a long name (”Lucky Guess Gets Diagnosed with ADD at the Library”) to fill time, preventing other teams from reaching our judge. Finally, once we've gotten the answer, we try to call in again and give the name of one of our sponsors as the team name — i.e., “Kaukauna Domino's”. Teams getting the correct answer are announced on the air, thus providing a bit of advertising for our sponsors.

Zonked out from the Greyhound ride and huge meal, I went upstairs to the children's area and slept on the floor among large stuffed animals.