Buffalo was an interesting choice for a marathon as it meant I would be in close proximity, relatively speaking, to much of my family, so I should make an effort to visit, but on the other hand often it’s impractical to visit my family. We saw my father on the last day of our travels for lunch and then we saw my mother, briefly, as she was working. In fact, she returned home from Florida the day before we saw her. But first, we woke up in Aurora.
We started the day in Aurora with the Coffee and Croissants cruise – a rescheduling from the day before. This enabled us to sip coffee and enjoy croissants from a pontoon boat. To be fair, we both had coffee before and we actually, well, one of us, went running and then more walking, before boarding the boat at 9am. Then we packed up most of our stuff and headed to the docks.
It was a beautiful late spring day looking the length of Cayuga Lake. The sun was bright and warm with the water cooling – the air temperature was in the mid-70s but water temperature was perhaps 58 or 60 at the shoreline and I think he said 48 in the center of the lake. Definitely moderating and I think only two of us plus the captain, out of seven, were wearing shorts.
On checkout we went to the Grill at the Laurel in Watkins Glen to meet my father for lunch. Dad won a gift certificate at a car show sometime last fall so we let him take us there for his birthday (Mom would not go with him for some reason…. She is suspicious of the place, so I figured we’d better go lest he use it simply on takeout instead). It’s always good seeing my father but it actually takes several hours to have a conversation. And saying goodbye takes forever. We were standing and talking to him, as he moves slowly walking around this earth, and then we said goodbye and he got into the car. By the time I walked around and got into the driver’s seat to drive away he had pulled away and down the road – basically disappeared. At 85 years old, walking isn’t his forte, but put him behind a lawn mower, a tractor, or a piece of machinery, and he’s as good as anybody you know.
This was the final posting of this travelogue. Five hours home from there, with a stop to visit Mom, and pick up Meraz who had been at her doggy vacation spot.
Next up – My conference in Baltimore, camping at Big Meadows, and likely a handful of other adventures.
On Tuesday May 26 we woke up in our room at the Inns of Aurora. This would likely be the penultimate day of our rest and relaxation this time around – the one day where we “sat around and did nothing.” We did, however, do something.
I started the day with a hike through the woods and fields above Aurora while mostly conversing with my father on the telephone. As it had rained several days prior it was pretty muddy, but it was a beautiful, still late-spring morning along Cayuga Lake.
The walk took me past a few of the Inn’s many properties including an old renovated farmhouse and the spa. After my walk we were scheduled to go on a coffee and croissants cruise on the lake but the boat captain called in sick. Not sure, but it’s possible he was just out too late the night before. Anyway, this activity was postponed until the next day.
The Inn recently changed their breakfast service. Instead of having breakfast available in the main restaurant they now have breakfast as counter-serve, coffee shop style, in the general store. And yes, they now have a general store that serves as basically a takeout place as well as a small gift shop. In addition they serve coffee, tea, juice, and breakfast snacks (artisanal breakfast bars) in each building within The Inn. Not sure if this is a decent substitute for those who want a hearty breakfast but likely it is what they have done to reliably provide breakfast in a place and time where it may be hard to entice restaurant workers for a sporadic meal service.
After breakfast we returned to the spa to enjoy their outdoor thermal suite. This was truly a blessing – the day was beautiful for lounging outdoors. We intermittently dipped into three different hot pools (99 to 104 degrees Fahrenheit) and I intermittently dipped into one cold pool (about 54 degrees Fahrenheit). It took me more than 90 minutes of plunging, sitting and reading, and relaxing to fully immerse myself in the cold. It was invigorating.
The hydro pools at the spa are not the best value. They come complimentary with spa services, but as we had our spa service the day before they charged us for a 90 minute pass instead.
This “forced downtime” actually forced us to have some downtime. We spent much of the afternoon reading on the porch. I was able to finish a few chapters of The Three Body Problem for the first time in a couple of months. And then for more “forced downtime” we took a ride to Long Point Winery.
There were three British cars at Long Point including mine (not shown above). This Austin Healy is pretty amazing and very well kept.
Long Point actually purchases most of their grapes from what I can tell, and most of their grapes are purchased from out of state. Usually I’m horrified by this – and in this case to a degree I am still horrified a little. However, they do a decent job especially with the Cabernet Franc they grow – it has a great finish and decants well. Their Zinfandel (California grapes) is also well made and a lot deeper expression than many California Zins. For this reason I decided they’re actually a mediocre vineyard with some amazing winemakers – and in a beautiful setting as well.
After the winery adventure, The Boss piloted The Beast to the Village of Skaneateles where we would meet my uncle and significant other for dinner.
Skaneateles sits on the north end of Skaneateles Lake which is maintained in a pristine fashion to serve as the water supply for the City of Syracuse. The only reason I have really spent any time in Skaneateles is because my mother, and thus my uncle, grew up there. My uncle moved there before he can remember (I believe he was less than a year old) with my mother’s family when my grandfather’s company moved from New Jersey. Now, Skaneateles is a combination between upscale bedroom community for Syracuse and resort community surrounded by farmland.
We had dinner at a pizza and Italian place in the village before heading back to the municipal parking lot.
Where we parked had a view of this house. My uncle said, “You know that’s the house where we grew up, right?” Yes, this is what my mother refers to as the State Street House.
As the light faded, The Boss piloted us safely back to Aurora, two lakes over, past farms and fields that remind me of growing up on a farm in that part of New York. And thus everything became complete.
Eight days ago we headed out on our latest adventure – a road trip to Buffalo for a marathon (not for me) along with a spa stay at a small resort in the Finger Lakes. Buffalo is a 380 mile drive from here – slightly beyond the capacity of my fuel tank. To get there you head north of course, through Pennsylvania. I’ve driven through Pennsylvania about 70 or 80 times in the past thirty years so it gets a bit tedious. Fortunately, this time was different as we headed west a bit.
I didn’t take any photos anywhere along the drive until we got to far northern Pennsylvania so this random shot from a past rest area visit will need to do.
Driving from the DC area to Buffalo basically gives you three options for “how to get there.”
The main option is to head due north on U.S. 15 from Frederick, Maryland, to Corning, New York, and then navigate to Buffalo via I-390, U.S. 20A, and a handful of other roads. This one seems to be the lowest common denominator approach – it keeps you on major highways and expressways for a large chunk of the trip.
The second option is to follow the shortest, fastest route (I believe it’s 10 or 15 minutes faster than the above normally). This takes you out through Breezewood, briefly on the Pennsylvania Turnpike, up I-99 past Altoona, and then a steady string of country highways through some small towns. Taking this route you spend less than four hours on expressways and three hours on country highways. Some would say it’s the most scenic. Others would say it’s a recipe for following a farm tractor for half an hour.
The third option I think is likely the old timer way – the route likely a lot of people took more than 30 years ago before I-99 was built or before much of U.S. 15 became an expressway. This takes you out of the way as it is considerably a longer distance, but the entire route is on expressway. I-270 and I-70 out to Breezewood, across western Pennsylvania on the Pennsylvania Turnpike, north on I-79 to Erie, and finally I-90 EAST to Buffalo. I think it is about 30 minutes longer, but in inclement weather or if you’re driving at night with bad eyes it may make sense.
We took option two. I haven’t driven this option or most of the roads in more than 20 years and the last time I drove it was in a snowstorm. As I said before, this takes you through Breezewood which is commonly known to DC area residents who frequently drive to the northwest. Breezewood is a relic from another time. It’s basically a town that sits at the junction between the portion of I-70 that was built as part of the interstate highway system and the older road of the Pennsylvania Turnpike which by federal decree was not to have direct access to the interstate highway system. As such, when I-70 was built, all traffic coming west (and north) had to be funneled out onto local roads in Breezewood. Eventually this became a large complex of stoplights, truck stops, diners, and gas stations. On holiday weekends it can be a real chokepoint. Fortunately, in about a year it will be completely bypassed.
Breezewood in its heyday, perhaps 15 or 20 years ago, was a great place for a meal stop. The truck stops all had decent sit-down restaurants. There were a handful of fast food stops and a Denny’s set up as a diner. There was a Perkin’s up on the hill. Now, all that is left is a handful of truck stops with fast food, a couple of gas stations, and a brand new Bob Evan’s made up to look like a Cracker Barrel inside. We stopped at this Bob Evan’s and it’s decent. It’s superior to the places it replaced.
I’ve been out through Breezewood maybe four or five times since covid. What I have found is after 2020 it seemed as if the restaurants had a harder and harder time getting service staff. As it sits in an isolated valley in fairly large county that has next to zero population I suspect there just isn’t enough population to support staffing restaurants – especially with the bypass coming. Anyway, this was our first stop on our six hour and forty five minute journey to Buffalo (to be honest I was surprised at how quickly the journey went).
The drive after lunch on Friday was very peaceful but while crossing through the Allegheny National Forest we did reach a point, after three hours since lunch, where it just made sense we would need a new stopping point. I originally thought we would stop near Salamanca, New York, on the Indian reservation for cheap gas, cigarettes, fireworks, or CBDs (none of which we wanted or needed at that point) or simply just because that’s where there are a lot of stops, but about twenty miles from the New York State line we saw a sign for the Zippo lighter museum. And that’s how we ended up at the Zippo Case Museum. And we bought ourselves some lighters – which of course we do not need either! After all, the museum stop is free and they have clean restrooms – but no snack bar if you need a meal!
The Zippo museum sits in Bradford, Pennsylvania, a small manufacturing town just south of the New York State line in Pennsylvania. Bradford is a town that reached its peak back around 1930 with a lot of employees at the Piper factory (airplanes), the oil refinery (formerly Kendall, motor oil and so forth), Case knives, and Zippo. It’s still a decent town for the era and size and is visibly better kept than most of the places along U.S. 219 through this part of Pennsylvania. Driving for the previous two hours through forested area we kept talking about, “where do people here drive for groceries?” Well, this is it! And it has the Zippo Case Museum.
It seems as if more people are interested in Zippo lighters than Case knives, unless you’re a local.
The company with its manufacturing plant next door puts on a huge Fourth of July fireworks display. Above they have a collage in the form of an American Flag.
The museum goes through the history of the company starting with its founder along with some memorabilia from his office a hundred years ago.
There are included displays of the many very customized Zippo lighters created along the way, and a large gift shop where you can purchase your own!
Of course part of the museum and shop is devoted to Case knives, particularly similarly customizable jack knives and hunting knives. As a kid in Big Flats, New York, less than two hours to the east, I do remember people buying and selling Case knives.
Mostly as cutlery in carefully kept cases. Yes, somehow that axe above counts as “cutlery.”
After a bit of a visit, we hopped in the beast and continued north. For the next thirty minutes the drive carries on through a mix of roads partially on Indian reservation where there is an obvious “tax free” influence. I have never seen so many cannabis dispensaries in my life. At one point Waze sent us down a country road for a few miles to cut out a corner.
This obviously worked well as we waited for a train to pass before rejoining U.S. 219.
The highway here winds its way northward. Eventually you enter Ellicottville which shows the signs of Buffalo’s gravity from the north (in other words, there is a ski resort here, there are condos, and Buffalo is only 45 minutes away). However, this is only a tease as U.S. 219 becomes an expressway and the first 15 miles of expressway take you through rather desolate areas where there are constantly signs warning the freeway closes when it snows. I guess nobody here drives this far south for a commute as it seems to be the Tug Hill of Buffalo that gets the brunt of snow bands off the lake in December and January.
Finally we arrived in Buffalo, just before 6pm after a not-hard travel day. Our residence for the next few days would be the Westin Buffalo where I had acquired an upgraded room we didn’t really need.
The room had a living area and a bedroom area. As the lounger in the living room area was hard as a rock and uncomfortable we did not use it. Therefore, it wasn’t worth the money. It was a nice room otherwise though save two interesting features – the television was pre-loaded with Netflix but didn’t have the connectivity to start up; and the thermostat was hard to read and would freeze in an unlikely position (too hot or too cold) when you tried to program it. I blame this thermostat problem for some ear irritation now a week later as I didn’t sleep well for those three nights!
On check-in I decided I hadn’t had any activity for the day other than turning the steering wheel so it was time to explore – dinner reservations were well in the future still at this point.
We found Asbury Hall at Babeville – an old church that was restored and converted to a performance space by Ani DeFranco.
Old houses, many of which were converted to private clubs or lawyer’s offices. This was the first we realized how much crazy history Buffalo has. On this stretch of Delaware Avenue, in fact, there were monuments to both President McKinley, assassinated here, and Theodore Roosevelt, inaugurated here after McKinley’s assassination.
This large tree, excuse the fisheye lens, which was planted in 1690 lived through it all. Note the size of the trunk on this sycamore compared to the SUV sitting next to it. It’s budding for the season, running a few weeks behind surrounding trees likely due to a combination of age and species. And actually – Buffalo foliage in general is about six weeks behind where we are. Just now trees have full leaves whereas we were there the second or third week of April.
There were plenty of murals and plenty of street art.
Eventually it was time for a steak dinner. And time for an early sleep. Although the weather was decent on our arrival in Buffalo Saturday promised to be a doozy.
After a pretty chill period of working, gardening, keeping teens alive, and trying to get grass to grow it appears as if it’s time for a number of adventures. First, today I’ll mention the Old Town Festival of Speed & Style.
Is this style really? Or speed? Likely, yes, although where is in the eye of the beholder.
I was alerted to this festival by the astute individuals at Land Rover of Alexandria. Apparently it has gone on a few years from now. It’s excuse to visit Alexandria and take in some eye candy and make friends with classic and exotic car owners while searching for coffee or brunch. LROA wanted to invite me to visit the VIP tent they had set up as sponsors of this event down in Alexandria and offer me brunch on this beautiful late spring day. I caught onto their secret though – what they really want is for me to trade up. No thanks, I am happy.
Either way I was presented with an opportunity to visit the festival early before the crowds came as I was on my own with The Boss off to Atlanta for the weekend, but the condition was I needed to invite my two teenage children to join (I did) and they would need to wake up and join me (they did not) and then we would need to leave before midday to pick The Boss up at the airport. So being fortunate to arrive alone I parked a few blocks away. The first vehicle I saw was a beautiful BMW.
Not too exciting around here but it would be nice to own nonetheless.
This Mercedes was a nice little gem. I watched the owner close the door gently and made a remark at which point he shared a story of how he watched someone close hard on a vehicle of this vintage at a show and the glass shattered inside the door!
There were a number of late(ish) model Aston Martins around. I actually see these by my office fairly frequently as it is close to a number of AI company headquarters and the Aston dealer is in that general direction.
I was more interested in this 1972 Datsun 240Z. The owner is the second owner I believe. He bought it less than a decade ago from the original owner. The paint is all original and it has supposedly never been restored. There isn’t a single divot or speck in the paint so I am not certain this is true as it is not exactly a really low mileage vehicle.
A TVR Griffin. The British cars, in my opinion, were the star of the show in Alexandria even though there were a large number of Corvettes (a split window Stingray for instance) and a number of Ferraris. And there were a number of Mercedes as well but not too many that were exceedingly rare. The oldest cars were from the early 1950s.
Here is a 1972 De Tomaso Pantera imported sometime after the late 1990s I suspect or the American bumpers were removed.
See the bumpers on another model?
Mid-engine fun and incredibly clean.
By comparison another yellow sports car – a Ferrari Daytona similar to the first Miami Vice car – remember there were two and one was destroyed in a firey wreck and then replaced with a Testarossa.
Some drivers had a theme as was the case with this Corvette.
Others were there with their owners because they enjoyed owning and driving them. The guy who owns this is probably a decade older than me if not more. He has owned it for a few years and shared with me that this is the car he drives the most even though he has several at home including a much later and more modern Porsche.
There was a fairly decent variety of cars at the show such as this Chevelle. My father owned a similar model back in the 1970s – not a convertible – which my mother insisted he trade in because the clutch interlock in a larger vehicle designed for taller men meant that it occasionally would not start for her. This was in an area of the show where there was more country music playing than otherwise.
Loved this Dodge. The gentleman standing next to it actually owns an orange Plymouth Roadrunner (complete with roadrunner stencil and fake Bugs Bunny Roadrunner standing next to it).
Doing my best to make an E Type hood look longer than it is. Sadly the bonnet wasn’t open.
A Mini Cooper S with a cricket bat holding open the bonnet. Built for American drivers.
So I did need to wonder why the Goodwood Revival decals are there.
I’ll share this beauty and then call it a day. A Ferrari 250GT Pininfarina Coupe.
Just imagining a sunny drive on a beautiful day like today.
For the remainder of March, and early April thus far, adventures have been limited. Work has been somewhat exhausting with a lot of new priorities and some leadership change. End result, I have not had the opportunity to take Saturdays to head to the mountains for hiking. However, this past week there were a couple of day trips. My older child is headed to college in another year and a half and has started doing college tours.
Our first visit was to University of Mary Washington in Fredericksburg.
Fredericksburg is about 60 miles from home but at least to the old town portion it is definitely a world away – and sometimes it’s a journey getting there. I drove down with my older child and her mother (my ex-wife) after a pretty stressful morning at work. We left at 11am, and spring break traffic was in full bloom. So, I had this shell shocked look on my face. I think we made it about 35 miles at home when I decided we would be better off to stop for lunch at Waffle House and continue the journey after, a fortuitous decision as the southbound express lanes opened as we were dining! The 60 miles took two hours.
Mary Washington is a mix between old and new. Originally it started as a normal school – a school to train teachers – for women until 1972 when it was granted coeducational status shortly on the heels of University of Virginia (until then, all boys) receiving the same status in 1970. UMW was renamed as a university in 2004 when they began to offer a much wider range of degrees beyond teaching and standard liberal arts fare; it’s hard to believe that when I first moved here 30 years ago it was still known as a “good place to learn how to be a teacher.” There are still a number of buildings over 100 years old on campus; many of them have been modernized, some are still traditional as you can see above.
Many of the older classrooms still have chalkboards – something which if you’re my kid you have not seen in a classroom ever!
I’m the same hand the science building is brand new with all modern trappings and a ton of programs of study.
There is even temporary math nerd graffiti on windows and glass partitions.
UMW met all the checkmarks for our visit – and it had the nicest dormitory kitsches I have ever seen. The student population seems to reflect the same type of attitude as my offspring – a bit artistic and creative and not too much standard social flair and Greek life. They enjoyed the school because the outdoor spaces were quiet and it was not as chaotic as our 2400 student high school on a city campus.
After the tour we went off campus to enjoy a meal at a pizzeria. I haven’t spent any real time in Fredericksburg in a couple of decades and it has really modernized while maintaining the typical Virginia old town feel in town. There is a lot going on. Unfortunately I think a lot of it is to serve the upper middle class sprawl that is growing in the area. Translation – there is not much for college students to explore off campus.
Our next adventure took us south to Richmond on Friday.
This time I was provided with chauffeur service. My kids’ mother had driven down to Richmond the day before in an effort to get away overnight and do some bonding with both kids, so The Boss and I drove down Friday morning with the plan for The Boss to take my younger to an escape room while my older, my ex, and I tour Virginia Commonwealth University. Unlike Wednesday there was no traffic heading south. We left at 6:40 and by 7:30 we were in Fredericksburg. With a tour appointment for 10:00 we decided to stop for a leisurely breakfast. First Watch didn’t disappoint, but we were served and well fed by 8am and soon on our way to Richmond. The 90 mile drive took an hour and forty-five minutes – Wednesday’s 55 mile drive took two hours on the same highway!
Northbound wasn’t as lucky with a multi-car accident and a delay.
VCU started off their tour with the same type of marketing presentation and Q&A session as UMW, but here they presented a ton more material. It is literally ten times the size of UMW. VCU is of a similar age and similar type of history – originally it was the medical school for Hampden Sydney College from the 1830s eventually becoming a more professionally-oriented school in 1968 due to an act on the behalf of the Virginia General Assembly, and it has largely grown from there. Medical, Dental, Nursing, Pharmacy, and similar programs are on one campus; other programs are on the other campus (I would call it “the main campus,” the Monroe Park campus). VCU wraps Monroe Park on one side spilling out into the city and the fan district on the west.
VCU is set up differently than the college I attended. The classroom buildings are often largely classroom buildings – professor offices and so forth are often in the old brick row houses next to them. They only briefly took us through an academic building and as it is on a campus in the middle of the city it didn’t seem as welcoming to go wandering through without a purpose.
Like I said, it spills through the city a bit, but much of what you see above is actually university.
Several streets through the core are blocked off to vehicular traffic to create something called the “Ramsway” reflecting the Ram as the school’s mascot. The admissions counselor also explained that she was contractually obligated to use the term “Ramily” in describing the student body, faculty, and staff of the unversity. Kids kept groaning when I used this term over and over.
VCU prides itself on the variety of its student body and the variety of experiences available. If I had to compare UMW and VCU, I would say UMW is upper middle class diverse whereas VCU is truly diverse, as in state of Virginia diverse.
My older enjoyed spending time sitting under trees in Monroe Park waiting for The Boss and my younger to return. When I asked what they thought of VCU I was surprised to hear that they really liked it. It isn’t as “non-chaotic” as UMW but they also said they liked it because there was much more to do and it was much, much easier to get off campus to see things and do things. In my mind it also sees as if it has more things for college kids to do around the area – more cheap and free activities for instance.
None of this should really surprise me as my offspring haven’t exactly sat still for their lives. They go out and explore just as much as we do and we live in a walkable urban neighborhood with a lot to look at and a lot going on.
We eventually left The Offspring with their mother. They had the opportunity to try out the dining hall with three lunch passes. We took the opportunity to visit Jamaica House Restaurant for lunch and then stop for a cortado before heading back.
I enjoyed mine while strolling through the city.
As we were walking towards the parking garage I heard running behind us. It turned out to be The Offspring returning from lunch. My older decided she wanted some quiet time and to stop answering her mother’s questions so she joined us for the THREE HOUR drive home.
You gotta love a 12 lane interstate with six lanes stopped.
It was good to get out of town two days in one week. Would I have enjoyed taking two full days rather than shorter days? Maybe. But not with my ex-wife involved.
I learned to drive on my dad’s old Chevy truck—a hulking relic of steel and grit. It had a three-on-the-tree transmission, no power steering, and no power brakes. Every turn felt like arm-wrestling a giant, every stop a test of leg strength. But once you mastered its stubborn charm, it was magic. Perfect for long, lazy drives down winding country roads, where the horizon stretched wide and the world slowed down. Even in town, once you knew its rhythm, it danced through traffic with surprising grace.
Summer evening drive, windows down
Fast forward to today, and I’m behind the wheel of a Range Rover Sport. Funny thing—it’s about the same size as that old Chevy, and sometimes it feels just as commanding. I sit high above the fray, surveying traffic like a hawk. Parking still gives me that familiar “am I going to scrape the wall?” moment, though I never do. The turning circle? Huge. Sharp corners mean spinning the wheel twice, just like old times. But that’s where nostalgia ends. This Rover is a rocket. The supercharged V8 growls like an old Buick, but without the sway in corners. It glides over pavement like silk, stops on a dime, and those red brake calipers? They whisper speed even when standing still.
Rover
Then there’s my other ride: a ten-year-old Mini Cooper, base model, wearing its city scars—dents and scrapes like badges of honor. Driving it is pure play, like hopping into a go-kart. Quick, nimble, and perfect for darting through tight streets. My kids adore it. Most adults? Not so much—unless they’re car enthusiasts. And honestly, in DC traffic, it feels a little too fragile. Still, for errands and coffee runs, nothing beats its cheeky charm.
My eleventh grader behind the wheel
The past few months have meant countless miles—commuting for my kid’s treatment. In those long drives, I’ve found comfort in the Rover’s quiet strength and joy in the Mini’s spirited zip. But now, life is shifting. The urgency is gone, and for the first time in a while, I can leave both cars resting in the garage. Sometimes, the sweetest drive is the one you don’t have to take.
NOTES on writing this Post – I experimented using Microsoft Copilot to write this. Usually I take about twenty minutes to write these posts. As I have upcoming travel coming I want to practice jotting down and summarizing thoughts quickly and then simply adding photos. To write this, I instructed Copilot to write me a blog entry, provided three subject areas and summarized six or eight bullet points I wanted to cover for each. It’s the same method I may have used to write it myself but saved half the time and, let’s face it, Copilot’s writing is a little zippier. Honestly, I may have written more and droned on with pointlessness, but as it came out it was fine.
