I Can See for Miles / Locomotive Breath (A Two-fer!)

I would to apologies on behalf of this post for being so terribly long overdue. Its lack of punctuality certainly will not go unpunished, I can assure you; it will clean up after dinner tonight.

Here’s the First Post:

I Can See for Miles and Miles and Miles and Miles and Miles and Miles and Miles

Today’s blog comes to you from my own brother Hank, who will relate yesterday’s events in his own words.

“We woke up… well, I woke up, I was the first one up today, and I got out breakfast. Then we sat around and talked while Louie took a bath in the river. Then, after everyone was done with their hygiene stuff and packing their day-packs, we set out on our daily adventure. On our way out, my dad got a shortage of air on his tires. We had to stop at Mr. Shreve’s store to fix the tire. After the tire was fixed, we went back out on our adventure. We stopped at the Seneca Rocks Visitors Center, where we learned about the Seneca Rocks and how they used it for combat missions in World War II. We went to the Canaan Ski Resort and we went up the highest ski lift that I had ever been on. When we got to the top we hiked to another mountain called Bald Knob, a.k.a. Mr. Z’s Knob (“or, a.k.a. not Mr. H’s Chest Knob,” says Will). After looking at the gorgeous panoramic view (see pictures) we hiked down the seemingly endless miles of trail to the cars. From the cars we stopped at a picnic area and had a lunch which was similar to yesterday’s, and then we came back to our campsite and helped clean up Mr. H’s car. Mr. H left to go back to work at home. After he left, we got our bathing suits on and went floating down the branch of the Potomac river that we have close to our campsite. We came back and then Mr. R and his son Luke and friend Hunter came.”

I would like to add a quick note to Hank’s summary, and that is that Mr. Shreve’s General Store, located about a mile or so up the road from our campsite, has been owned and operated by the kindly Mr. Shreve and his wife for fifty-three years; surely, this is one of the last old-time general stores in existence, and stepping into the old building is like stepping back five decades. Also, as Hank said, my father had to depart from the trip in order to return home to work. Next, Hunter K and Luke R are going to relate their experience on the drive from home to here.

Luke: “We sat there. We watched Hunter’s favorite movie, It’s a Mad Mad Mad Mad World. Then we watched my favorite movie, Armageddon.”
Hunter: “We saw a sign that said ‘Hunter Access.’ On the way back, we’re going to take some pictures. Mr. R kept calling the cows ‘West Virginia bears.’”
Luke: “I was scared to death about the cliff that we were right next to.”

In all, Mr. R sums up the ride by saying “It was kind of boring, really. Not too exciting. I was glad we didn’t get lost. I did miss one turn, but we figured it out right away. Only had to make a couple of bathroom stops” (lucky you, I say under my breath). Well, better late than never, I always say. Last night was another good one, a bit colder than the previous few nights. And a good deal dewier. But hey. We had pancakes this morning, so it’s all good.

And now, for the second post (yes, this is a two-for-one deal!):

In the Shuffling Madness of the Locomotive’s Breath

Today we headed over to the Cass Scenic Railroad, a state park of West Virginia. The drive is supposed to take about an hour and a half, but it took us two hours as a result of what Dr. C referred to as a “scenic route.” I find this to be a bit of misnomer; a more accurate name would be the “we are desperately and hopelessly lost route.” Upon arrival, we hopped aboard the Shay 5 steam locomotive, an antique which serves as a relic of the bygone era when the railway dominated the American economy. A two-hour ride, which included a stop at the Whittacre Station, served as a marvelous scenic view of the beautiful state of West Virginia. Upon returning to the Cass Station, we were quite dismayed to discover that our very dear Dr. C had sadly misplaced his car keys in a location which was unknown to us… and him, as well. The unfortunate keys were lost out there in the cold, lonely world, with nobody to look out for them and no pocket to keep them warm. After several hours of frantic searching, Mr. Z and Mr. R decided it best to take the Scouts to a local pizzeria place for lunch, seeing as the sandwich materials we intended for lunch were locked in the back of Mr. C’s car, and it was going on four o’ clock. When the train finally returned at 4:30, Dr. C gave the train cars one last desperate search, and was stupefied to discover his keys sitting sobbing quietly underneath a garbage bag. All were ecstatic to see those happy little keys safely in their owner’s hands again. What an adventure! Right now, we’re on our way back to the campsite, ready for an excellent dinner and good night’s sleep. Until next time. Keep it real.

Louie