Frederick, Maryland

Cousins coming up next…But I’ll have to continue in the morning – my old eyes no longer see very well at night.

Cousins coming up next…But I’ll have to continue in the morning – my old eyes no longer see very well at night.

Silver Spring, where my cousins live, is a mere sixty miles further down the road – I could make it there by 10:00pm.

Though, my plan to discretely set up camp on their front lawn was regrettably thwarted by: (a) an artery clogging accident on the I-270, and (b) I can’t see a damn thing at night without my glasses.

The Econo Lodge is right off the highway. I’ll spend the night and carry on after rush hour in the morning. Besides, the comic routine of the night clerk, and the chat I had with a nice young lady, who smelled like she just took a shower, about the views and virtues of Donald Trump vs. Bernie Sanders, made the $64.75 I had to spend, worth it. I’ll let you guess who she was voting for.

House in Cumberline MDWhat a town Cumberland, Maryland is. I stopped here for fuel, earlier today, and decided to have a look around.

It appears as though the clocks stopped in 1902. The buildings are perfect examples Industrial Era architecture. Here are pictures of a handful of homes lining Washington Street.

The whole town is a gem.

Cleveland…Nope – Columbus, Ohio!

I wasn’t far down the road when I revised my plan to head for Cleveland. With every mile I got closer to the windy city, the cars and trucks got denser, the potholes got deeper, and the attitudes got more and more contemptuous.

Humanity has its nature…and it’s not always sweet!

I should have known it was going to be one of those days when the screw fell out of the arm on my glasses. I got some fine looks during breakfast in the lobby wearing lopsided glasses while working on my blog. I can only hope just one of them believed I was an eccentric genius rather than a hopeless nut case.

You can smell Chicago’s breath from a hundred miles away. The grit its productivity creates coats the roof of my mouth and even makes my eyes water.

I wasn’t far down the road when I began thinking I’ll change my plan. The highway to Cleveland got worse with every mile I got closer to the windy city – the cars and trucks got denser, the potholes got deeper, and the attitudes got more contemptuous. I felt like I was riding into the armpit of the country.

I pulled over to see what my options were. When I clicked and dragged the little Google Map guy over to have a look at street view, the entire map turned blue. Not a tid-bit of open space remains between the streets Google cars have retraced. The advancement of man is complete!


I headed south to Hwy-30, the Old Lincoln Hwy, thinking I might become that purist I intended to be and adhere, unwavering, to the original route. But the endless succession of stoplights and intersections quickly changed my mind. So, when I-65 south appeared, I went for it – figuring the Road Gods of the Lincoln Hwy would forgive me – understanding that roadside strip malls and ten minute traffic signals were non existent in 1913, when they built the highway.

Indianapolis, here I come!


Road construction seems to be a pastime like quilting here in the east…

An enduro–motorcycle would make a better vehicle at this time. The ruts, the dips, the narrowly reduced lanes, make rolling down these roads a hair graying experience – I actually had to exit once to catch my breath!


But I made it to Columbus, Ohio without injury. What a great looking city! The buildings line up along Front Street like a football team on a scrimmage line. There’s a nice mix of traditional and modern architecture.

German Village

Stumbling onto German Village was the first bit of good luck I had all day. The neighborhood transports you back to the Revolutionary War.

Cobbled streets and real gas lanterns keep you ready to dodge a horse drawn cart around any given corner – even though the majority of the buildings were built around 1900.

German Village is more than several blocks wide and deep. It’s extensive enough to lose your bearings if you don’t pay attention. There is a real youthful atmosphere in the air – you see lots of folks sitting on their porches sipping  beer.

But then came the Southwind Motel – my last dose of ill fate for the day.

What kind of person offers a bed with dirty sheets to a guest, I can’t guess….But the kind of person who gives a paying customer a bed with dirty sheets, I can give you a name for….and I feel no solidarity with this low creature.

Even the great location the motel has to the German Village, doesn’t legitimize tolerating the actions of the despicable management.

Because they also have no WiFi at this hovel, I was out late with my computer, to discover the sullied sheets only when I went to bed….Note to self: Check the bed sheets before paying for a flea-bag motel room!

Why I was compelled to be courteous to my contemptible hosts, I’ll never know, I should have woke them up for clean sheets! I guess the uncertainty of their reaction kept me at bay – I’d get the same lack of sleep after a shouting match, at that time of night, as I would dealing with the dirty sheets.

I did my best to deal with the situation and laid down on what appeared to be the clean side of the bed, but it was no use, I could smell and taste its previous occupant. It was impossible to sleep!

Then I remembered I had a sleeping bag. So – after a shower – I laid out the remaining clean towels on the mattress and unrolled my bag. Then I got some sleep.

How could I revenge this bastard without causing any property damage? Eggs inside a drawer? He’d check the room. I already woke him up at 5:30AM for clean towels and let him know my discontent.

It was during the morning reinforcement shower when the perfect idea came to mind….But it’d be unwise to write anything self incriminating on a public blog, so if you really want to know, I’ll let you ask his other guests….

Steamy Revenge
Steamy Revenge

In the name of Justice….I hope they will forgive me.