Life of Scott

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Thursday, June 01, 2006

Riding Through West Virginia

Recently, I took an 800-mile journey on the motorcycle to the New River gorge by way of Marietta, Ohio and home again via Maryland. I know it is only one state away from Ohio, but it is feels like a different country down there.

Aside from some of the most beautiful country I've seen (and I've seen an awful lot of the USA), West Virginia has much to offer.

There are these enormous an gorgeous plots of land that would go for $1-2 million around here with tiny dilapidated houses. There are shiny balls in every one of these yards. There is frequently plywood where windows used to be, but shiny balls are more important than windows.

Then there are the cranes. Every old crane from around the country must end up in the south, stuck among the vines and weeds, because there is no way these little towns can support enough work for that many cranes. "Hey, Jim. What should we do with this rotten crane?" "Just throw it out the window. Maybe a raccoon will eat it."

A disproportionate number of bars are designated, "Where Good Friends Meet." I counted five on my ride. How nice of the WVDOT to clearly mark places where it is appropriate to take good friends. Otherwise, you might end up at some sorrowful bar full of anger. "Steve's Bar: Where Mean People Fight."

The best snapshot of the south I can think of was at the campsite. This was soon after I pulled into my campsite as a dog was shitting on it. There was a pickup truck with a big American flag print on the back window. On the dashboard, next to a Homer Simpson bobblehead, was a Jesus Christ bobblehead. Amen.

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