Waning Gibbous Moon
Do you want the good news or the bad news first? I think most people would want the bad news first, so here goes.
The bad news is the wind chill was 22 degrees F today and the 20 mph gale was right in my face. For five and a half hours. And the flat as a pancake topography turned into a roller coaster track.
The good news is that my cold weather layer ensemble, largely untested in sunny, warm (sigh/weep/gnash) California, worked like a charm. My nose ran like a faucet, but altogether I was comfortable. Excellent.
The scenery was largely unremarkable. There was a memorial to the poor souls who died defending Slippery Hill in 1813. I would not have gone out that way personally. My strategy would be to rope-a-dope them. Just let the bad guys have the hill and watch with glee when they slipped and fell to their grisly demise. Hind sight, I know…
On the way into Queenstown, there was this place. I don’t know what it means. Probably it, like many other things in the curious Universe, just is. I kind of like these two guys. They are statues, of course, just sitting there supposedly fishing in a crick. Somebody stole one of the poles and all of the crick. They don’t seem to mind.
As I approached Chesapeake Bay, I got little glimpses of its tributaries or arms that reach in and out of its marshy edges. I like this one.
Lastly, I was told by a certain ex-English teacher that I have failed in my duty to ‘splain the significance and origin of one Bennie Benitoite, the cute little kangaroo rat mascot who is accompanying me on this trip. Do I have to do EVERYTHING? There’s this cool little feature on your Smartyphone called GOOGLE, you know.
I am tired and old and I shall rest now.
Peace, Love, and the Beaufort Scale (Google that, too, while you’re at it),