And so rather than dawdle, The Red Writer covered the last 200 or so miles to Watkins Glen quickly, knowing that more rainstorms were predicted for late today.
|Radar screen shot as this is being written|
As soon as the next one (expected very, very soon!), I plan to walk the half block to the El Rancho Mexican restaurant near my amiga Amanda's house. Admiral Fox reminded me today on the telephone that I loved the place last year. I feel a margarita coming on. I missed the ones served at son Dustin Fox's birthday party yesterday in Point Richmond. Reportedly, they were industrial strength.
The Red Writer is resting comfortably in Amanda's side yard until I move the rig to the family cottage in Valois tomorrow. And, not coincidentally, it is not supposed to rain tomorrow. At all.
And so the journey that started in Point Richmond May 3 ended on the last day of May 2500+ miles eastward, having touched base in 11 or 12 states. The number is fuzzy because I believe I was in West Virginia briefly Wednesday. Very briefly. Ditto for Maryland.
Today did bring a real first though. Out in the wild hinterlands of Pennsylvania I drove by a hydrofracking site, the first I have ever seen up really close. It was even more ugly than any photo I have ever seen.
I'll try to wash the image away when I have dinner.
Cripes, it's starting to rain again!
|My neighbor last night at the Duncansville, PA RV Park|