bridges · Cars · Puns · Road trips · Yard art

O Say Can You See?

The short answer is: Not very well.

The longer answer is this: Son Ian recommended I take advantage of my proximity to Baltimore (pop: 570,000) and check out the remains of the Francis Scott Key bridge, which collapsed a scant 3 weeks ago. It’s the kind of light-hearted whimsy we Boilards are known for.

The FSK Bridge opened in 1977, and it carried over 11 million vehicles annually until a container ship struck one of its piers last month. Much of the span is now underwater, posing a hazard to ships.

“My bad!”

This week the Army Corps of Engineers is supposed to be removing much of that wreckage. It should make for a cool photo op! And according to Google Maps, I was only about an hour and a half from the foot of the bridge.

How hard could it be?

So after getting a cup of coffee and a Power Muffin from The Speckled Hen in Strasburg, I set out for the greater Baltimore area.

Getting there was easy enough–until the last couple of miles, when I encountered a police roadblock. They weren’t going to let me get anywhere close to the foot of the bridge. I’m not sure what I was expecting. I guess I envisioned a big, Roadrunner-style “Bridge Out” sign on sawhorses a dozen yards from the shore of Boston Harbor.

No matter. There’s more than one way to skin a cat. I consulted Google and found a nearby spot that should afford a good view of the salvage operation. Alas, all the property in the area seemed to be a naval base or some other official facility that prohibits visitors. Undeterred, I drove under the harbor through the miraculous Baltimore Harbor Tunnel, and approached the Key bridge from the southern end. More roadblocks. Finally, I headed further south to a private beach community, where through a combination of illegal parking and trespassing I was able to get a decent view of the Francis Scott Key bridge in the distance.

Circles represent my failed attempts to see the bridge; the square is where I finally succeeded.
FSK Bridge in the background, terminating at the head of the arrow.

So, now with that pointless project out of the way, I began a leisurely drive in the direction of Philadelphia.

The drive through the Maryland countryside was pleasant and picturesque. The road carved its way through hills dense with trees and other flora. My only complaint is that some of the signage was a bit hard to comprehend at a glance.

Signs like these remind me of the nighttime driving scene in Pee Wee’s Big Adventure. It appears in the following clip, which is only 45 seconds. Note that the guy who uploaded the clip wants to point out you can see a pulley system moving the scenery. But we want to watch the clip just for the signs.

I know just how you feel, Pee Wee.

Along the way I passed another bridge that, like the FSK Bridge, no longer carries traffic. The Gilpin’s Falls covered bridge in Maryland’s Cecil County was originally constructed in 1860, and restored in 1959 and again in 2010. And unlike the FSK Bridge, it still sits on the same piers where it was placed in 1860.

Straight out of The Bridges of Cecil County.
Where form and function come together

The next roadside attraction requires a bit of a setup: You may recall that I’ve been charmed by Tin Man-themed yard art that I’ve spotted on my travels. Here are two recent examples:

In Georgetown, CA. Blog post here.
In Lakeview, Oregon. Blog post here.

Now, recall my photo of Rodin’s “The Thinker” that I took in Philadelphia:

Put them together and what do you get? This sculpture of “The Tinker” (note spelling) that sits in front of a brewery in York, Pennsylvania.

For some reason I think this is brilliant!

The artist claims his sculpture says something about York’s industrial history. I don’t know about that, but I’m simply taken by the whimsy and humanity of the thing. As I’ve said before: This world needs more Tin Men.

I stopped for the night in Wilmington, Delaware–less than an hour from Philly. After my big splurge on the Red Caboose Motel last night I figured I’d bed down in a simple Days Inn. Upon my arrival, I was greeted by this sign whose reference to “”the best” seems like a dubious claim.

At least they didn’t make the common error of adding an apostrophe to “its.”

Then I got to the office and saw this idling near the front doors:

Must be check-out time.

Tomorrow I’ll head back into Philadelphia. God willing.

Mail Corner

Loyal reader Brian W sent along this photo he took of a Lincoln Highway sign he spotted near Route 30 in Tama, Iowa. It dates from 1915, which is just two years after the Lincoln Highway was established.

It’s a far cry from the boring, utilitarian signage I encountered today in Strasburg.

Brew of the Day

I got today’s BOTD at Valhalla Brewing Company in Elkton, Maryland. It’s an out-of-the-way roadhouse with an empty parking lot and an nearly-empty bar. The bartender spent most of his time leaning on the bar and staring at his phone. But to be fair, it was 2 in the afternoon on a Thursday.

Middle of nowhere. Which I guess is where you’d expect to find Valhalla.
Cool mailbox, though.

I chose the Zombie Ice Double IPA. It turns out it’s a guest brew, made by 3 Floyds Brewing Co, in Munster, Indiana. Behold the golden-copper color:

The first sip suggested that this is just a basic IPA. But with subsequent sips it became more interesting. The usual citrus and hops are omnipresent, but as you move through it you detect orange peel, library paste, and shoe polish. You might not think that sounds especially tasty, but somehow it works. There’s a total lack of pretentiousness about this beer (except for its name, of course). It’s solid, genuine, and hardworking. I give it a solid 4 out of 5 stars.

In the interests of full disclosure, I should note that I paired this IPA with Valhalla’s “Big Ass Pretzel,” which is served with mustard, beer cheese, and a maple-caramel sauce that is to die for. So consider that it might just be the pretzel talking. In fact, the Pretzel gave the beer 5 stars.

Yard art

When a Man’s an Empty Kettle….

…he should be on his mettle. Who said that?

It was this guy:

I spotted him in someone’s yard on Wentworth Springs Road near Georgetown, which is about halfway between Placerville and Colfax in the Sierra foothills. I was heading home from Lake Tahoe, opting for the scenic route that cuts through the El Dorado National Forest rather than US 50.

Loyal readers familiar with this blog know of my appreciation for yard art. Especially in this era, where so many of us seem to be poised to pounce on each other for using the wrong word or drinking the wrong beer, yard art is a whimsical, unencumbered gift to passersby. It’s outward-facing, offering a brief distraction or a chuckle and asking for nothing in return. I think yard art does far more to improve the world than any political placard listing beliefs or principles.

And yet I’m torn apart. Just because I’m presumin’ that I could be kind-a-human, If I only had a heart.

The tinsmith forgot to give me a heart…