public transportation

Back before I bought the danger Ranger, I occasionally took the bus to the mall in Gainesville. Rarely at best, but every so often, I'd need something that wasn't at any stores within walking distance of campus. So, I'd hop on the number 20 out to the Oaks Mall, wander around for an hour or so, and hop back on to get back to my dorm. I never had any need to figure out the schedule or the route for that matter. There weren't a whole lot of choices and the trip was short. Worse came to worse, I could call a friend to (maybe) pick me up. Beyond that and a rare Later Gator trip, I was not really savvy on public transit.

D.C.'s Metro system is my preferred mode of transport into the city. If I need to drive somewhere that Metro doesn't reach, it's a rare, special occasion. I know there's much to see in the District that is not accessible underground, but convenience is convenience. I could walk to the station, to my destination and back again. Since moving to Falls Church, I have a longer walk and a longer trip on the train. To get other places faster, I've begun trying to figure out the bus schedules nearby.

Mind you, my use of the bus is not a necessity. I rarely have cause to need public transportation since I have a live-in designated driver for those late nights or early happy hours. This summer, it's been more of something to do, just in case I need to one day.

Well, the past two weeks have been a "need to" situation. My folks borrowed my car for 2 weeks. Last year, it would not have been as big a deal. I was able to ride my bike, walking was an easier option comparatively. My fruitless PT appointments were in the District and easily Metro accessible. This year's chiropractor appointments are about three miles from the nearest Metro station and two bus transfers away if I go that route. Today, it took me almost 2 hours to get there. Afterwards, I had to wait for close to an hour to catch a bus that didn't even take me to the Metro line.

I have trouble accepting it because I have other options. Some of my fellow bus riders likely have no other option. Waiting for the bus is a fact of life for them. With no car and a need to earn a living, what other options are there outside of the reach of Metro and walking beyond the realm of possibility? People wonder why Americans don't use public transit. When you factor buses into it, it's horribly slow and time-consuming. I spent over four hours on various forms today to travel 20 miles or so. When I have the option to drive and save three of those hours for cooking a good meal, going to the gym, or taking some pictures, what am I going to choose?

Until we as a nation, state, or community decide to live where we work and make public transit more convenient by proximity, we're stuck with what we've got. Fortunately, I get my car back on Monday and will probably forget about it until I need to hop on a bus again.

hey, person coming from israel!

Or as Lee put it, "Yo, Semite!" He's a clever one, that Lee. Anyhow, that's where we're headed today. A shiny new day dawns on us. It's gorgeous here again, but yesterday's dawn looked the same before rains descended on our brief tour of San Francisco.

We saw the one typical SF sight, took a few pictures of it, decided it was too wet, and went to get a pie. Our day scrambling and climbing and hiking was not as productive as we'd have hoped on Monday. The temperatures were too warm for sandstone slopers to be any fun, and the parks service had shut down the redwood trail we wanted to hike. Controlled burning. Can't say I'm that upset about the fact they were actually doing controlled burns with the NIMBY attitude that can precede them. More disappointed that I couldn't hike that trail that day.

So, off to the Valley we go. Hopefully the weather gods are on our side, though the weather scientists seem to be stacked against us. Keep your fingers crossed!

running on fumes

No, not me. It is St. Patrick's Day, but no, it's far too early to be on fumes. Perhaps tonight, I'll pour a pint, but that's about all. This story is about this weekend.

I got pretty spoiled with the Danger Ranger. When my fuel gauge hit E, I had about three gallons left. That translated into 60-70 miles of highway driving before I'd be pushing her up a hill. Well, in Florida, that never amounted to me running out of gas. Closest I ever came was a half-gallon left in the tank, but I did that on purpose trying to drain my fuel tank so I could change my fuel filter. Little did I know that the fuel line won't drain on the ground when you disconnect it. Who knew?

Another complication of the Danger Ranger was that my low fuel light never worked. I've grown accustomed to never seeing one, and now that my car has one, I get a little freaked out. I'm not quite sure what it means and how much is left in the tank. Used to be, I could trust my own instinct, but I just don't know this new(ish) car all that well.

Throw a new monkey wrench into the system. A rental car. Forty miles of highway with nary a filling station in sight. I was sweating. Turned the air and radio off. Slowed down to 10 below the speed limit. Drafting behind a trailer. Called AAA in anticipation of being stranded in No Man's Land with a flight to catch. AAA was no help, said if I happened to be stranded that calls were taking about an hour to fill. Called her, freaking out. All she could do was try to calm me down.

I finally did find a gas station, two miles from the rental company. I might've had a quart left in the tank. Made it there, got my receipt, and dropped the Jeep Compass off without a hitch. This traveling nonsense is far too stressful sometimes.

jetsetting

I reckon the next month or so are going to introduce me to the world of jetset culture. Two trips to Florida and one to California. A giant lump on my carbon footprint; sorry Ma Nature, but a whole lotta memories need to be made.

One, first wedding. This weekend will find me back in Florida near old friends for the first time in a while. Again, it'll be a short trip, but a good one nonetheless. My buddy who's getting married is yet another of my oldest friends. He and I go way back to front yard baseball, backwoods camping, and pool hall scheming. My flight gets off at lunchtime or so tomorrow.

Two, second wedding. Next weekend will find me back in Florida after an abridged work week. What a week it will be, but abridged nonetheless. It should be the frat boy wedding it's been hyped to be. Guys I haven't seen since moving and nor met my better half; the twain shall meet. Throw an evening with family into the mix, and you've got a great weekend indeed. I can't wait.

Finally, a week in California. Combine photogging in San Francisco, bouldering in Yosemite, and touristry for two in between. I aim to enjoy every single second of it. Spring Break is much needed and terrifically anticipated.

That's all I've got. A good friend told me this week to hold my tongue on some subjects regarding climbing. I ought to take his advice. Indeed, aside from him, few other climbers read this rag anyhow. I'll stick to the boards for those discussions. Stay well!

get it right!

man, i can't keep flight info straight! first, i thought i had a direct flight. wrong. then, i thought i was supposed to leave today. wrong. finally, i thought my flight left at 7:30 tomorrow. wrong.

flight takes off at 6:00. looks like i'd better get to bed and get some sleep. after packing. and calling three people i said i'd call tonight. and making sure that i have someone to pick me up from the metro station. and taking a shower.

it's gonna be a long day tomorrow...

a tale of two flights

i'm not nearly as disgruntled as i was last night. however, if northwest were to ever crawl to washington for bailout money, i'd meet them on capitol hill with jeff gillooly and tonya harding them. "no delays" quickly turned into an epic fail on all fronts. i'll take the cramped legroom on frontier or spirit over the lackadaisical ground portion of those two connecting flights to get me down south.

first flight, d.c. to memphis tennessee. flight was supposed to leave reagan on time. took them 25-30 minutes of sitting in the gate with the doors buttoned up to fix a light on one of the wings. no big deal, just going to shorten my layover in memphis. i didn't want any memphis bbq anyhow. i'll just eat my clif bar on the plane. well, we land at 7:30 with few minutes to spare for many on the plane to catch their connection elsewhere. the poor girl across the aisle from me had 10 minutes to switch planes. that turned to five as we sat 10 feet from the jetway with no one on the ground crew to guide us in. as i looked around the cabin, i realized that nearly everyone was really anxious about getting to the gate on time. everyone that had to catch another flight had a small window to begin with, but this seemed unusual on a full flight. i thought i had a short turnaround with my flight leaving at 7:50 theoretically, but mine was actually the most leisurely stroll. turns out, i didn't have to change planes. just flight numbers.

second flight, buttoned up in the cabin, sat on the runway for close to an hour. why, i'm not sure. sat next to a 17 year-old kid from small town wisconsin. talked to him for most of the flight. man, i was tired, but conversation on a plane was better than passing out uncomfortably or trying to read or watch a sopranos episode on my laptop, not knowing if i was going to see lots of blood or boobs. flight landed around midnight, i did fall asleep for the last half hour or so i guess. quick pick of the baggage and in the back of the vw on the way to 8207.

and we're taking flight....

tom cruise famously raced jets in top gun on his rice rocket bike. cary grant ran from a biplane shooting at him in north by northwest. mike myers and dana carvey argued at the end of a runway in wayne's world. myself, i have a spot to go nearby that i can watch the planes take off and land with impunity. seems to me that it's awfully hard to get near a runway these days, and gravelly point at reagan national airport is a ready made park at the north end of the runway.

i've been there several times. first trip, cold weather, curled up on my crash pad in the bed of the danger ranger sharing a sleeping bag with her when we first started dating. we talked for what seemed like hours, alternately between serious and silly topics alike. before we knew it, the park was closed at 10, and i had to trek her back to vienna. or maybe just her car. we've been there since. on a nice long fall bike ride during the daytime. families picnicking. kids running around. flag footballers tossing the pigskin over the roar of DC-10s and 727s.

so for the first time in my revamped life in d.c., i found myself wondering as my flight took off, "what memories are being made below me right now? a new couple like we were getting to know one another? a couple of old, married folks? or just some teenagers looking for somewhere to ride their bikes or wreak havoc or be stupid without being hassled?"

pretty fly

"fly. that's the only way that i can describe those shoes, benjames." thanks, margarita. that's the only way i can describe my exhausting weekend of catching up with climbers old and new. wish the weekend and the climbing wasn't so abbreviated.

pretty fly morning of climbing. warmed up on a nemesis. prettiest 20 foot boulder line in the field. The Heretic. three years in the making, it finally went down. followed soon thereafter by Honzo Blade. and thus began my assault on tiny, tiny holds. i closed out the morning, sending the hardest problem i've ever climbed. The Unforgiven. credit card-thickness crimp near the top. V7. maybe i'll turn into a V8 climber after all. ten months progression between grades. as long as i stay healthy, that is.

following a lunchtime snack, i worked hard the rest of the day. no sends, but good progress made on some wicked cool lines. if the weather's nice next year, i might even get a few more of them. i guess when you shoot for the stars, invariably, you'll miss more often than not. i think in the competitive atmosphere, a little sandbagging is needed to actually get those 10 climbs in before the end of the day. there's no way i can crank at my limit for an entire day. that's alright though. pictures to follow when i get them.

fly friends around, new ones by association. dinner at black cat, good beer afterwards. yelled at by the campground folks for being up too late and having too much fun. next morning brought too much dew and slow moving friends. great southern breakfast, pack up and hit the blacktop.

long drive there and back. more fun on the twisties in the daylight, golden rays of sunlight trickling through the almost-changing fall leaves. hairpin turns aren't quite as hair-raising without fog and deer around each one. handled more adeptly by my new whip, but still far short of the two-seat roadster i secretly wish i could whip around those curves in. better yet, the bike i know i'll never hop on.

rocky mountain high

quick update from the rockies. my god, it's amazing out here. i just got back from two days climbing in rocky mountain national park. still snow on the ground. the parking lot's elevation was 9,475 feet. the crag was over 10,000. i climbed well on the first day, on granite no less. warmups were fun. first problem of the day was called autobot. apparently, it's a little less heady when you have snow below you filling up what is a tiger pit in the melted season. looks pretty sketch from pictures, but the long climb had a stunningly beautiful reward after the top out. it's now the wallpaper on my cellphone. we got rained on and hightailed it out of the park before i got any more good sends.

i'm feeling confident that if we return again next week before i leave, i'll knock off a pretty stout problem or two. yesterday's highlight was watching climbing. insanely strong climbers abound in this part of the country. i witnessed a climber fall one move short of a V14. what does that mean? world-class talent, folks. earlier in the day, another resident strong guy put down a V12. insane. i'm not quite there yet, but the attitude out here isn't one of grade chasing, more one of aesthetically pleasing, fun climbing. i'm all about that. catch you again when i get a chance. check for the pictures when i get back.

peace.

9 days...

nine days until i disappear in colorado. well, for a few days anyhow. endurance isn't quite where i want it to be, but this riding a bike thing is helping out. for some odd reason, i decided not to take the metro back from my physical therapy appointment this morning. a treacherous six and a half miles through downtown and georgetown on the bike. yesterday, i rode probably the same distance. it's getting easier, so that's good news.

last night, plastic pulling at sport rock. another breakthrough. picked a V7 to work on. i was a beta sponge, and sent it in one night. fun line. hopefully that'll translate to some good work on the stone out west.

time for a swim. the sunshine is calling me.

regrets

one of the hardest parts of visiting gainesville was choosing who i would spend time with and who i would even inform of my visit. the people that feigned sadness at my departure, but haven't heard from since? nope. the people that were excited for my departure because they knew i needed to do it? sure. they were excited not because i was leaving, but because my life would become richer and they knew they'd see me again.

last night, that came true. i met the moms from work at conestoga's for lunch. i ask for healthy, they choose conestoga's. i have a country fried steak and mashed potatoes. not exactly what i had in mind. it was good to see them. they gave me the third degree about my love life. gathered what was left of my gainesville possessions at christie's, got to catch up with leda, and headed to candler's. we hit the rock gym and flouted that new grg edict of no guest passes for non-first-timers. candler, kaleigh, and i had fun crushing plastic. flaco's, sadly, was a disappointment as far as the food went. the company couldn't be beat. thank you to all for showing up. it was great to see you and catch up.

stubbie's and its smokeless brilliance led to sculpturing, the gainesville kissing cousin of buildering. good times, war wounds this morning. to all involved, sincerely, my door is open to you if you want to visit.

surely, next time i visit the 'ville, it'll be for more than 18 hours and maybe i'll open my mouth to more than those of you who were in town.

chasing cars

let's waste time, chasing cars. 700 miles or so down south on interstate 95. hookah and mediterranean food. beer. mike, mike, mike, and margarita. smiles.

tomorrow, beach, then alachua. today, driving, my mp3 player spit out all kinds of awesome. right as i left virginia, it played our song. slight play on the heartstrings. choked up at piano man for some odd reason. maybe the wedding memories of friends' past that have been hitched, and those yet to come. perhaps my own yet to be, who knows?!

time for bed, time for waking up in the a.m., taking pictures of the beach, read a little of my books, and hitting the road back to the place i called home for the last 10 years. my comfort level is increasing in arlington, but i know alachua county like the back of my hand. i don't need directions to get where i need to go for the rest of the trip. i hope...

gettin' on down the road...

this figures to by my summer road trip finale. it promises to be a short one, not like last year's I-95 windsprints, or the mind-numbing boredom of I-65 through indiana. with gas prices getting into the stratosphere, $4 gas adds up to quite a bit more than a plane ticket. i'm excited to see my friends in other towns from behind the wheel of my geriatric pickup, but 23 mpg is going to squeeze my wallet.

before i wander off randomly, here's what it's looking like. wednesday departure from the district. wednesday night arrival in jacksonville to see the reunited mikes and relive some 5622 g&t goodness. thursday departure to gainesville. random, olde tyme fun in my recent favored overgrown small town. friday departure to visit the folks for mom's birthday brouhaha. saturday she flies in, we get to spend time with my family. she leaves on monday. i leave on friday. back to jacksonville for some waves and rays and ill-fated surfing lessons(?) and more g&t. then back on up to the district for the end of june month and a woman that loves me moving to less than a mile away.

so, back to this road warrior status. it's going into retirement. a new(er) car is a certainty this summer. i just hope that the danger ranger makes at least half of the trip. i've got a road bike in the shop that should get me from point a to point b quite nicely. perhaps i'll figure out the safest route to school that may turn into, "where's a closer school so i can forgo this whole commuting-by-car nonsense?" carpooling to work is a viable option too, with two coworkers within county limits and both on my current gas-guzzling commute.

ch-ch-ch-changes...

redirected wanderlust

sunny skies inspiration
gives way to hammock-cradled reading.

tales of vagabonding,
wanderlusting,
tramping.

mind wandering to itchy feet,
breezy skies blowing in dark clouds,
foretelling ominous ending for
his trek into the wild.

daegu destination,
wiped just as cleanly as these blue skies.

cleansing deluge washes it all away.
much like florida of past,
in my new virginia future.

big food

foodies tell me that new york is a food lover's paradise. in fact, in the book 1,000 places to see before you die, there are several entries about new york's restaurants. not being one to doubt a book that i actually own, food was the priority as far as we were concerned. we mapped out the places we were going to eat and decided what other sights we were checking out based on that. no street dogs or pretzels here, though it would've been much cheaper no doubt.

stop one, joe's shanghai restaurant in uppper manhattan, home of the soup dumpling. soup dumpling, you ask? yes, soup dumpling. as in a dumpling that has soup in it. pork or crab, these were not to be missed. step one, carefully lift the dumpling into your spoon. step two, nibble a hole in the dumpling. step three, carefully sip the broth out of the dumpling after letting the steam escape. step four, eat the rest of it. marvelous. my search for these in the district has begun.

after the met, stop two was a cupcake bakery for a late-afternoon sweet treat. apparently, new york has quite a few shops that specialize in cupcakes. since i'm dating my very own betty crocker, she wanted to check out the competition and see what she's up against if she veers from her current career path. buttercup bake shop was a tiny little place, curtains and a simple glass case. she had the red velvet cupcake and wasn't impressed. not traditional in her eyes. i had a chocolate cupcake with marshmallow frosting. frosting was good, cupcake so-so. hers are better.

stop three immediately thereafter was a trendy joint in chelsea called the spice market. appetizers and drinks before the show. i think i might've enjoyed it more had there been some milder choices for her, and i'd actually been able to enjoy the conversations above the din of the restaurant and had normal seating. probably good for a small group, but not sixteen boisterous italians.

stop four followed the show. shila used to work there. no lie, it was called good. a misnomer, it was. better than good, but not quite great. broad range of dishes, diner-style seating arrangement. i had a pork chop with sweet potato homefries and bacon and pecans. very tasty. no one had a complaint about their meal, except for maybe portion size being overgenerous. go figure!

final stop was a nyc deli on sunday. carnegie deli had a line out the door, so that landmark will have to wait. fortunately, within sight was the stage deli. open for 70+ years, we figured it was a good bet too. sandwiches as big as your head. not being one for pastrami or corned beef, i opted for the howie mandel triple decker. chicken salad with a hard boiled egg. [bald joke?] i destroyed it. the turkey sandwich defeated her, i polished it off for lunch yesterday. the tiger woods reuben defeated max too. poor guy. the nyc cheesecake was six inches thick. i quickly protested that we asked for one slice, which prompted nearby tables to look and gasp at the size. that came home in a bag too.

so ended our gastronomic tour of the big apple. we quickly rolled out and were back in the district in the right amount of time. no need for dinner that night. salad last night. it's just not the same...

big culture

the first of three installments recounting this weekend's journey to the big apple. the big city culture aspect of the trip was great. on saturday, when she and i got off the train at grand central station, we took a big walk to the metropolitan museum of art. as with the larger art museums i've been to, the grand scale of the building awed me immediately. the entrance foyer with its high domed ceiling and columns and elaborate floors set the tone for what turned out to be a pretty awesome whirlwind tour.

she and i wound through the egyptian exhibits, getting lost in its labyrinthine display cases and larger-than-life artifacts in our search for the stairs down to the first exhibit she wanted to see, a constantly changing fashion exhibit recommended by my cousin. being the fashion maven in this relationship, she was not disappointed. visually, i enjoyed the exhibit, but the history was lost on me. she related it to a book she'd just read, the other bolyn girl, and its mention of the women in the queen's court who were charged with keeping conversation going and looking pretty. few men's clothes were found in this part of the exhibit. i did recognize some of the designer names, but they were the couture designs that you often only see on fashion runways.

following that exhibit, i found myself disappointed with the scale of the photography collection. it was part of a larger group of prints and drawings, but after seeing the annie liebowitz and ansel adams exhibits at the corcoran in d.c., i was a little tired of typical landscape photos. there were a total of five prints that didn't fall into that category. one held my interest for a few minutes, a gruesome shot of a head in a cake box crime scene. it had an interesting vantage point and disinterested expressions on the faces of the police detectives working the case.

we quickly found ourselves searching for something different, winding up with the europeans. picasso, van gogh, seurat, matisse, and others practically wallpapered several rooms in the collection. it was breathtaking to see the pointillism up close and personal. the tour guides filtering through were both insightful and annoying with their basic observational instructions for their groups. their tones echoed in the large space, and the hipster/scenester kids in the groups added to the already loud din with bad acoustics. we tried our best, but had trouble outrunning them until we stumbled downstairs through modern art to the american classics.

never seeing georgia o'keefe up close and personal before, i really dug her immense detail and bold colors. the depth of field of her canvases were almost three dimensional. people watching while breathing in the beauty gave a few chuckles with the cast of characters stumbling around us. the disinterested old man and his flitting wife. the french tourists. the asian dancers. everyone with their cameras trying to take pictures on the sly of the works, while i tried to capture their reactions to said works as they shuffled past.

labyrinthing out, it took far longer than expected. on a brighter note, we did happen past some very bright rooms and heavy armor in the medieval exhibits.

after drinks and appetizers later on, we caught my cousin's performance in chelsea at the small joyce theater. i had not a clue what i was going to see. modern dance meant nothing more to me than ballet, much as a non-teacher wouldn't see the distinction between whole language versus phonemic reading instruction. what i got was a visual spectacle that i absolutely loved. from my sixth row seat in the 500-or-so seat theater, i barely blinked throughout the whole performance. there were three distinct pieces, each with different costumes and feel. modern dance, i came to realize is quite an expression of fluid movement. i appreciated it for that element, much in the same way that i enjoy watching great climbers style their way up routes or tough boulder problems. unlike climbing however, i have no basis to mimic any of the movements, except for what i recognized as strong body control and awareness of movement from practice in yoga. the feet of the dancers made nary a sound as they leapt and stomped and effortlessly glided through the performance. the first piece was my favorite. it was a comical take on a guy picking up a girl on the beach. the background beats were french hip hop with lyrics of, "je ne sais pas porquoi." the next two pieces were equally as pleasing, though i have a little more difficulty explaining what i saw. if i had to guess, this modern dance thing had elements of ballet, yoga, pilates, kickboxing, hip hop, belly dancing, break dancing, and various other lava lamp fluidity and flow. [check out what the new york times thought of it.]

all in all, i feel quite a bit more cultured. perhaps i'll see some more dance somewhere around here...

not many bigger...

going big is what this weekend will be all about.

big city new york. not too many bigger. fourth largest in the world, behind tokyo, mexico city, and sao paolo.

big sandwiches. i hear that the carnegie deli serves the biggest sandwiches i've ever seen. a pound of meat on them. i should be surprised if i can eat the whole thing. they did something wrong if i can. we'll see. i have put down an entire 12 inch laspada's sub before. you south floridians know how big and heavy they are!

big family. fourteen of my cousins will be there. we're staying with five of them, one of them is dancing, six of them coming from florida, two from philly.

big milestone. well, for me anyhow. six months. the time's just flown by, filled with big memories and big words and big smiles.

big pictures and stories to follow.

epicenter

it may have been helpful if i had gotten this email a few days ago instead of the day after st. patty's.

In 1773, this city made its mark by throwing an unforgettable party (you know, the one involving tea), and it hasn't stopped since. First we suggest working up an appetite by walking the historic Freedom Trail. Stroll the two-and-a-half miles at your own pace while learning about landmarks like Faneuil Hall and the Bunker Hill Memorial. Next, duck in for homemade sausages or veggie pot pie and golden elixirs from the tap at Allston bar Deep Ellum, whose selection of 22 daily draughts and 100 bottled beers has made it a favorite among local hops heads. Wash it all down with an afternoon tasting at either Harpoon or Sam Adams Brewery.

thanks a lot, kayak.com. in any event, boston was a fun time. after a misstep or two, we found what we were looking for. fenway. looks just like wrigley, but greener. same sort of neighborhood. brownstones and bars, all full of baseball lovers no doubt. we ate lunch at the cask and flagon, which (according to them) is as synonymous to fenway as the green monster. i don't know about that, but their chowdah was pretty good. i went to quiet city boston with a warning in my ears, "remember. you're not irish." problem is, i'd just watched boondock saints too. my favorite oft-quoted line disputes that, "it's st. patty's day. everyone's irish tonight. why don't you pull up a stool and have a drink with us?" and so it was for the evening. everyone was irish for the day. it truly is a drinking holiday. it felt awfully cliche to be drinking guinness on such a day, but it was way better than the bud light quaffed by so many others. we initially set out to follow the freedom trail, stop at the irish pubs, have a pint, and move on. unfortunately, we didn't find the freedom trail until 4. by then, we were looking to meet up with friends, and hopped around quincy square with them. three in all, one dance club filled with girls and sailors, one bar irish in name only with budweiser and corona ads plastered on the walls, and one chinese bar featuring some god-awful karaoke.

quote of the night, "you're lucky our standards aren't as high as yours." and she laughed.

i've been everywhere, man...

i've been everywhere, man; crossed the deserts bare, man; i've breathed the mountain air, man; travel - i've had my share, man; i've been everywhere.

florida, georgia, tennessee, kentucky, indiana, ohio, michigan, illinois, missouri, kansas, colorado, wyoming, utah, nevada, california, arizona, new mexico, texas, louisiana, mississippi, alabama, south carolina, north carolina, virginia, west virginia, maryland, pennsylvania, new jersey, new york, delaware, connecticut, rhode island. later today, massachusetts. unless i miss my count, that's 33 states in all. and ontario in my only foreign excursion. all from the captain's seat of my truck.

yesterday was the most expensive drives, toll-wise, that i've had. per mile cost, only the pennsylvania and kansas turnpikes even come close. a lincoln here, a hamilton there. 400 miles and change came out to about $30 in tolls. it's all those damn bridges and tunnels along the way.

i loaded up the mp3 player with one song from every artist i wanted to listen to and the battery held out for the trip. too bad i forgot my charger. even driving across the bronx, i know why new yorkers spurn cars. even on a sunday morning, it was stop and go. the coastline scenery once i got into connecticut and rhode island was pretty awesome. unlike anything i've seen since being on the pacific coast highway near san diego or on seven mile drive in monterrey. once it stopped raining, it was pretty nice to open the back window and let the cool air trickle into the cab. i'm beginning to long more and more for responsive handling and peppy acceleration, but i think my truck's brain knows when highway on-ramp acceleration is needed. even in her old age, she does alright. i just wish she performed as well on long inclines.

off to boston for st. patty's. may the road rise up to meet you. may the wind always be at your back. may the sun shine warm upon your face, and rains fall soft upon your fields. and until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of His hand.

holiday travel

it's been a while since i've flown anywhere on christmas. i thought i was going to miss all the insanity of christmas travel by flying on sunday. misguided, yes. it seems that no matter when you try to travel around christmas, the airport's going to be slammed. delayed flights, people laid out everywhere. one flight was supposed to leave for the holiday hotspot of des moines, iowa at the next gate. their plane was trapped in madison, wisconsin. when my flight left an hour late, their plane was still in wisconsin, so they were still looking at at least 3 hours of waiting. thanks, mom and dad for living where ice storms are uncommon and pretty much unpossible.

spirit airlines is pretty awesome. leather seats, wide open cabin with no divider between first class and coach. lots of kids, none of them annoying. only complaint: a young couple that brought their damn cats in carriers into the cabin. leave a bowl of water and a bag of food, they'll be fine. but no, they had to sit two rows behind me and allergify my bubble of air. oh yeah, and they charged for drinks and snacks on the flight. $2 not so bad, but they wouldn't take cash, and as a matter of principle, i don't use my credit cards for a $2 transaction.

it's great to be wearing flip flops, shorts and a t-shirt, if only for a little while. packing for warm weather travel is so much easier. at least i'm not going to miss a white christmas in the district. everyone do their snow dance and wear your pajamas inside out for a white new year's!