Cruises
The other night we threw out a bunch of Triple-A publications, including their vaunted cruise catalog.
Alaska, Antarctica, the Caribbean, the Mediterranean.
“American Automobile Association,” my wife said. “What do they have to do with cruises? What am I supposed to do; drive to Hawaii?”
“Well, I kept it in case we should be considering cruises,” I said; “although if I did so, I’d be worried about the boat sinking.”
This is silly, of course.
I’ve flown quite often, an invitation for the airplane to auger into the swamp and disappear forever under the muck.
Every time we land I worry about skidding off the runway.
We took a train to Florida once, and I couldn’t sleep for fear of the train derailing. Every switch and road-crossing; BOINK! Into the ceiling!
And most dangerous of all is driving. Look out for the other guy! I’ve been run off the road by a girl applying makeup while reading her morning newspaper.
My sister in Florida is considering a cruise to help celebrate her 20th wedding anniversary.
Well, it’s not 42, but I’m happy for her.
She’s had a hard life; married four times.
Thankfully, this last one is her best.
But my idea of a good time is another auto-trip to Horseshoe Curve.
I’ve been a railfan all my life, and Horseshoe Curve is by far the BEST railfan site I’ve ever been to. —And I’ve been to many, including California.
Horseshoe Curve was a trick by the Pennsylvania Railroad to get over the Allegheny mountains without steep grades. The track loops a valley and goes back to gain altitude — a triumph of mid 19th century engineering.
Horseshoe Curve is now a national historic site. It was opened in 1854, and is still in use, although now it’s Norfolk Southern instead of Pennsylvania Railroad.
(“Pennsy” merged with arch-rival New York Central in 1968 as Penn-Central, and that went bankrupt in a few years. It eventually tanked.)
Horseshoe Curve is near Altoona, PA, about five hours away by car.
My being a railfan is somewhat selfish, but thankfully my wife isn’t much interested in traveling.
She also says chasing trains beats chasing women.
Every trip to Horseshoe Curve — and I’ve been there hundreds of times — is a vacation, of sorts, the equivalent of a cruise.
• My wife of 42 years is “Linda.”
Alaska, Antarctica, the Caribbean, the Mediterranean.
“American Automobile Association,” my wife said. “What do they have to do with cruises? What am I supposed to do; drive to Hawaii?”
“Well, I kept it in case we should be considering cruises,” I said; “although if I did so, I’d be worried about the boat sinking.”
This is silly, of course.
I’ve flown quite often, an invitation for the airplane to auger into the swamp and disappear forever under the muck.
Every time we land I worry about skidding off the runway.
We took a train to Florida once, and I couldn’t sleep for fear of the train derailing. Every switch and road-crossing; BOINK! Into the ceiling!
And most dangerous of all is driving. Look out for the other guy! I’ve been run off the road by a girl applying makeup while reading her morning newspaper.
My sister in Florida is considering a cruise to help celebrate her 20th wedding anniversary.
Well, it’s not 42, but I’m happy for her.
She’s had a hard life; married four times.
Thankfully, this last one is her best.
But my idea of a good time is another auto-trip to Horseshoe Curve.
I’ve been a railfan all my life, and Horseshoe Curve is by far the BEST railfan site I’ve ever been to. —And I’ve been to many, including California.
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Horseshoe Curve is now a national historic site. It was opened in 1854, and is still in use, although now it’s Norfolk Southern instead of Pennsylvania Railroad.
(“Pennsy” merged with arch-rival New York Central in 1968 as Penn-Central, and that went bankrupt in a few years. It eventually tanked.)
Horseshoe Curve is near Altoona, PA, about five hours away by car.
My being a railfan is somewhat selfish, but thankfully my wife isn’t much interested in traveling.
She also says chasing trains beats chasing women.
Every trip to Horseshoe Curve — and I’ve been there hundreds of times — is a vacation, of sorts, the equivalent of a cruise.
• My wife of 42 years is “Linda.”
posted by BobbaLew at 7:32 AM
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