Two-Fer

Okay, this is going to be two posts in one!  Sort of Buy One Get One Free, except it’s really Get One, Get Another Free!

Post One:  The Best Laid Plans . . .

The plan was to have a lot of wonderful dash cam pictures to show you.  I borrowed one of these from my uncle and was mentally enthusing about Indiana farmland, waxing disdainful about unending Ohio construction, and gearing up for the Genesee Valley as I approached Rochester.  All of this was to be illustrated without my lifting a finger or endangering myself while driving, of course.

What I got was:

all eastbound pictures before noon are basically of that big ball of fire known as the sun.

All pictures from the afternoon show a bunch of clouds in the sky, my dashboard, and a lot of traffic.

Plus I think I forgot to turn the camera off once.  To quote my friend Lacy, “That’s what happens when you’re me.”

I’m not sure I can solve these problems very well with the enormous sloped windshield of the Honda Fit (which overall I love, BTW).  Maybe I’ll just make it a side-window camera tomorrow.  One side is better than no usable pix, right?

Post Two:  Wanderlust

There are few things I like better than hitting the open road.  Granted, the construction between Cleveland and the Pennsylvania state line was a pain, but heading out to see other places is one of my favorite things to do, even the part where I drive by them on the highway.  Today and tomorrow are for getting there, after that I’ll have time to really relax and explore, but I enjoy the getting there as well.  To me, there’s something magical about rolling past America, and driving east has always had the feel of driving into the past for me.  Steven Vincent Benet has a poem called American Names, some parts of which (the parts without the offensive racial slur) says:

I have fallen in love with American names,
 The sharp names that never get fat,
 The snakeskin-titles of mining-claims,
 The plumed war-bonnet of Medicine Hat,
 Tucson and Deadwood and Lost Mule Flat.
 
 I will remember Carquinez Straits,
 Little French Lick and Lundy’s Lane,
 The Yankee ships and the Yankee dates
 And the bullet-towns of Calamity Jane.
 I will remember Skunktown Plain.
 
 I shall not rest quiet in Montparnasse.
 I shall not lie easy at Winchelsea.
 You may bury my body in Sussex grass,
 You may bury my tongue at Champmedy.
 I shall not be there. I shall rise and pass.
 Bury my heart at Wounded Knee.
 

I was driving east, so there was no Wounded Knee or Deadwood, but there was Mount Comfort, the Mad River, Erie, Six Mile Creek, Chatauqua, Cheektowaga, and Chili.  Tomorrow it’s on to points east, to “the Yankee ships and the Yankee dates.”

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