Where Did You Come from, Where Did You Go?

Here we go, are you ready for another?

Yes, that's right, it's 1991 2016, and after a winter of overplanning and jumping the gun, Byways is locking down this year's itineraries. We'll see America's least-wanted geographical appendage! Make an unholy number of visits to George Bush Intercontinental! And explore the seams between Pennsyltucky and the Southern Tier. What could be better? And while I'm asking unanswerable questions, how did this anthem of the toothless become a regular baseball-stadium feature?

I'm not making you click on this. And if you want to see it rendered in Czechlish, I can't help you.

Next Generation

Does this mean that the most memorable part of the place was the bathrooms?

As I've mentioned, I have nephews, and said nephews are crazy for baseball. And now they're both at (or, indeed, well past) the age where I can take them on baseball trips. So last year, they each got a mini-Byways for their respective birthdays. We all live in the Midwest, so the younger one and I headed to Cleveland and Akron in May, while his older brother and I hit up Detroit and Fort Wayne on Labor Day weekend. Here's how they went.

The Zen of the Non-Destination

Melvin's recent recaps of our travel though Colorado, Montana and Washington (part one and part two) mentioned that I proceeded on to visit family in Oregon. Looking through my photographs, it seems like my folks and I didn't do much of note, at least in comparison with the itineraries Melvin and I map out.

More pushpins than, say, Helena but I am making a point.

There were some feature destinations but upon reflection, I realized that the non-destinations were more satisfying personally.

Mermaid Strike

Of all sad words heard from some bum, the saddest are these, "What might have swum." Photo by Rob

After a day in Hanford and Spokane that was both eventful and fraught, Rob, Watson, and I followed up with what I think was a classic Byways day. First things first, off to Frank's Diner for ice grapefruit juice, then scrambled eggs and link sausage! Actually, I think there was more corned beef hash and pie than was good for any of us, but heavens it was all tasty. Frank's is an top-notch exemplar of the train-car-diner genre—right up there with the Silver Palm and quite possibly better than Mickey's. Yeah, I said it.

Burning Men

What Is It?

So, let's see, where were we? Oh yes, Helena! Lovely Helena, where Rob concluded the initial post on our epic Colorado-Montana-Idaho-Washington-and-back-into-Montana trip from last August. It's only taken us five months to get around to the rest of it. Onward! (This post, despite the byline, is written by Melvin. We'll see if we can get that repaired...)