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The official photo blog of J. David Buerk Photography.

Centralia, The Graffiti Highway, and Jaguar F-Type Car Cruise

This past June, a friend and I got together for a car cruise we’d been talking about for quite some time, and the timing was perfect - he’d just taken delivery of a 2017 Jaguar F-Type S Coupe in British Racing Green, equipped with the supercharged V6 outputting 380 angry horses.  With both of us hungry to book some miles, carve up country backroads, and get some schweet car pics, we decided to take our cars cruising North into Pennsylvania, heading the general direction of Centralia, PA - an abandoned mining town with a storied history and unofficial scenic highway… of sorts.

My friend and I have discussed the ghost down of Centralia for years, and since we’ve pretty thoroughly explored the entire Shenandoah Valley in Virginia to the West, the rural roads of Fredericksburg and Charlottesville to the South, and there’s no twisty mountain passes across the Chesapeake to the East, heading North to Centralia was the perfect choice.  On our way North, we only took interstates to cross into Pennsylvania to get into the state, then as a rule we only used country roads, and we didn’t even take direct routes, often ignoring Waze’s directions to instead take more interesting looking roads heading the general direction of the town.  We stopped several times, and even ran into a Porsche driver from our same hometown who was doing the same thing as us - taking his Cayman out to carve up some twisties.

This car cruise was in the midst of the Brood X cicadas’ descent upon the region in 2021.  Even with our cars freshly cleaned for this photography car cruise, I packed my entire detailing bucket, with an extra can of bug and tar remover, grimly anticipating the disaster that our front bumpers and windshields were going to become, and dreading the amount of Photoshop it would require to remove all the carcasses from the front of our bug-plows in post.  To our surprise, just after crossing out of Maryland into Pennsylvania, we stopped hitting cicadas.  Brood X just wasn’t present, or yet active, in Pennsylvania; a fact we sensed while driving, and would add a dash of spookiness to our destination. 

Centralia, PA

Centralia is weird; there’s no getting around it.  As of 2020, the total population of this once-industrialized mining town is 5.  If, like me, you’re into the weird, obscure, odd, and macabre, you’ve probably heard of Centralia.  If you haven’t heard of Centralia, let me summarize:

Centralia is on fire.  It has been on fire since 1962.  And it is expected to be on fire for the next 250+ years.

Dating back to the late 1700s, Centralia was settled in 1841 and officially incorporated 25 years later.  Coal was discovered during railroad construction in 1854, which triggered Centralia to boom into existence just like countless other mining towns across the Northeast.  In 1890, the single-industry town reached its peak population of 2,761 residents.

Centralia operated as the small mining town it began life as until the 1960s, when the remaining underground coal mining companies shuttered, although bootleg mining of coal reportedly continued illegally until 1982.  In its history, Centralia was home to numerous murders, including that of its founder, Alexander Rae.  In the mid-to-late-1800s, the Irish secret society, “The Molly Maguires,” had a strong foothold in Centralia, among many other mining towns across Pennsylvania.  The Molly Maguires advocated for unionization of miners and improvement of wages and working conditions, often by violent means.  Legend tells that the first Catholic priest to live in Centralia, Father Daniel Ignatius McDermott, who was famously assaulted by The Molly Maguires in 1869, cursed the land of Centralia, swearing that St. Ignatius Roman Catholic Church would be the last structure to remain standing in the town.

There is some dispute over how the fire started, but on May 27th, 1962, a fire in the newly-built Centralia landfill was not properly extinguished, and was able to breach the landfill’s fireproof barrier, which had gone unmaintained by the borough responsible for its installation, expansion, and maintenance.  As the landfill had been haphazardly dug out of an old coal strip mine, the fire easily accessed veins of coal the strip mine and its underground tunnels had been cut through.  In such a coal-rich area, the interconnected veins quickly ignited and spread the smoldering blaze underground across the entire town of Centralia, and into neighboring (and ironically named) Byrnesville.

The Centralia Council mailed the Lehigh Valley Coal Company a letter serving as a legal notice of the fire, however attempted to cover up the fire’s cause in hopes to avoid liability and garner remediation funding and efforts from the Lehigh Valley Coal Company; they described the fire’s cause as “of unknown origin during a period of unusually hot weather.”  Tests of the smoke now emanating from cracks in the ground around the landfill quickly indicated carbon monoxide concentrations typical of coal fires, and by August 9th, with still no remediation efforts having been made, lethal levels of carbon monoxide were detected in active coal mines, permanently ending coal mining operations in Centralia the next day; a fatal blow to the town’s lifeblood industry.

Numerous efforts to halt the fire were made in the remaining months of 1962 and into 1963, including digging up projected routes of the blaze, building perimeters around the burning veins, and pumping a slurry of rock and water into burning zones.  All efforts failed, due to inadequate funding, scope of work, and haste, with some efforts exacerbating the subterranean fire by introducing oxygen fueling the fire and accelerating its spread.

The fire wasn’t unbeknownst to residents, however the town council of Centralia continued to downplay the fire’s severity until the 1980s, when the problem became too large to proverbially bury any longer.  In 1979 John Coddington, then-mayor of Centralia, discovered that the gasoline in the thank beneath the gas station he owned was 172°F (77.8°C).  In 1980, Centralia residents began suffering the health effects of carbon monoxide and carbon dioxide poisoning.  Famously, on Valentine’s Day, 1981, 12-year-old Todd Domboski fell through a sinkhole into a former mineshaft that had been overcome by the underground fire.  Miraculously, Domboski held onto a root and was pulled to safety out of the muddy pit of steam and lethal levels of carbon monoxide by his cousin Eric Wolfgang.  It just so happened that when the incident occurred, state officials were meeting with Centralia borough-members, and the state officials witnessed the risks the ever-expanding fire posed to residents.

This would be a turning-point in Centralia’s history, and in 1984 the United States Congress allocated $42 million (equivalent to $105 million in 2020) to relocate residents of Centralia, and neighboring Byrnesville.  Most residents took the buyouts and escaped the fire hazard, starting new lives elsewhere in the state and country, but those few that remained would be the last to inhabit the town, as in 1992 Pennsylvania governor Bob Casey condemned all buildings and enacted eminent domain on all properties within Centralia.  In 1996 the neighboring logging town of Byrnesville, which also was forced to be abandoned due to the spread of Centralia’s burning coal veins, was flattened, with only a shrine to the Blessed Virgin Mary remaining.  The USPS revoked Centralia’s ZIP code, 17927, in 2002, and in 2009, Governor Ed Rendell formally evicted the few remaining residents.  By 2013 only 7 residents remained in 2013, and after numerous legal battles, by agreement with the state of Pennsylvania, these remaining individuals are allowed to live out the rest of their lives in Centralia, and their property will be forfeited via eminent domain upon moving or their death.  In 2020, only 5 of these residents remain.

Today, Centralia is a ghost-town.  Some days one can spot puffs of smoke, steam, and carbon monoxide escaping from cracks and collapsed pits in the town.  Most people don’t even know the town once existed, as they drive through on PA Route 61; there are no signs, and almost no buildings remaining - just a small maze of potholed roads with overgrown dirt lots and crumbling foundations if you take the right unmarked turnoff from Route 61.

The only indication that something might be off while driving by Centralia is the chicane Route 61 makes, which is actually a 1mi detour that was built in the 1990s to bypass a burning coal vein beneath the road threatening its collapse.  In the mid-2000s this abandoned ¾mi stretch of road began accumulating graffiti, that pace of which picked up in 2007 following the release of the Silent Hill movie based of the eponymous video game which was modeled on Centralia’s disastrous history.  This colorful stretch of Route 61 became known as The Graffiti Highway, and was a popular, if not questionably illegal, destination for seekers of oddities and offbeat landmarks.

Father Daniel Ignatius McDermott’s curse may prove true.

The Graffiti Highway

Located adjacent the Centralia cemetery, The Graffiti Highway’s entire ¾mi of pavement and surrounding guardrail was eventually totally covered in spray painted messages and art by visitors leaving their marks to commemorate their visit.  My friend and I have wanted to visit for years, to see the spooky, post-apocalyptic ruins of Centralia, and take in the vibrance of The Graffiti Highway; I ideally would have liked to shoot some kind of edgy fashion or car shoot there, as many people have used the splotched terrain as a vivid, polychromatic backdrop.

Sadly, The Graffiti Highway is another victim of the COVID-19 pandemic, as rowdy visitors looking for an escape from lockdown boredom were holding parties and bonfires at the offbeat destination.  Pagnotti Enterprises, a Pennsylvania mining company that owns the land, decided they didn’t want the liability, and sought to discourage visitors by covering the highway with 400 loads of dirt to bury the Graffiti Highway, rather than the more appropriate route of preserving it as a designated historic site.  This effort was quick, but only time will tell how successful it was; the resulting loss is less boring-dirtpile and more dirtbikers’ paradise.

My friend and I knew we’d missed finally seeing the Highway in its full glory by a mere few months, but we still wanted to see what Centralia is all about - what collector of oddities, visitor of haunted graveyards and ghost-towns, and reader of Atlas Obscura wouldn’t want to experience such a place for themselves?  Alongside my camera gear and car detailing bucket, I brought my Polaroid knowing the bright colors, if we found any, would show up great on film.

After our circuitous cruise to Centralia, with a handful of stops, and even purposely driving the wrong direction for quite a few miles in the pursuit of good roads, we arrived in Centralia… but not before missing the turn off Route 61 like I mentioned is so easy to miss - it’s basically a dirt road that looks like it leads nowhere.  But after turning off Route 61 you know you’re in the right place because tags start populating even the roads leading into what was once the heart of Centralia, which is just overgrown as nature is already reclaiming the little left of the town.  We parked on a dirt road leading into Odd Fellows Cemetery, which borders the tract where the fire originated; although its gate was open, we didn’t enter not knowing who technically owned it, nor who monitored the large security camera aimed at its entrance.  Not far from our cars was a monitoring station, with the message carved into its concrete base:  DO NOT BACK OVER WITH TOUR BUS.

After a little moseying around, we finally found a trail that led to The Graffiti Highway - nature is quickly taking back the entire area, so it was easy to get turned around without aiming yourself with a compass and satellite imagery.  Also, just follow the trail of dicks; phallic tags and the occasional pair of boobies increasingly blazed the trail until you reach an intersection with a collapsed coal vein one one side and the Highway down a steep embankment on the other.  We steered very clear of the collapsed fire vent, which just looked like a big sinkhole, not wanting to become another Todd Domboski or succumb to invisible and odorless carbon monoxide, and slid down the embankment to The Graffiti Highway’s clearing of trees.

To our delight, there were still some spots of the Highway that were left uncovered by the dirt mounts.  But it was impressive to see such an expanse of such uniform hills spanning such a distance; it elicited the sense of moguls on a piste, but dirt instead of snow - a dirtbiker’s paradise.  Something that was very striking, however, was the amount of raw, unburnt coal present and loosely floating atop the piles of dirt and rock; for a bunch of material excavated from the “depleted and burnt up” section of the original fire, there sure was an abundance of unspent fuel dumped upon this known tract of fire.  Some coal was definitely burnt, and it would break apart under your feet or crumble in your fingers, whereas unspent coal, while still fragile, holds its form and has a sheen across its surface.  Rocks were tagged with aliens, the unofficial mascot (and visitor???) of Centralia, along with hearts, stars, and all-seeing eyes.

F-Type Car Cruise

Once we’d seen most of The Graffiti Highway (we only hiked about half of it), we scampered back up the slippery hill, passed the cemetery, and took a look over the hill down into the former site of the landfill, where Centralia’s fire first began almost 60 years ago.  There wasn’t much to see, so we didn’t bother more than peering down, as a couple we ran into confirmed there was nothing of value down there as they exited past us.  A very muddy pickup and a few ATVers also passed by on one of the numerous dirt roads around the cemetery and the Highway; we were surprised that we encountered nobody on The Graffiti Highway itself, eventhough we heard ATVs and dirtbikes buzzing around while we explored.

The sun was setting, and after taking a couple photos where we initially parked, we moved on to find some graffiti on nearby roads to grab some tagged car pictures.  Centralia is dirt and decay, so while it’s not glamorous, there is beauty in dilapidation and decay.  In between pictures, we looked around the road to see what was nearby - some of the remaining slab foundations are so overgrown you trip onto them before you spot it.  One large one seemed to be an old gas station by its layout; I can’t help but wonder if it’s the spot where John Coddington discovered his gasoline stored at almost boiling temperatures.  Once we lost the good light, we called it a day and cruised away with new memories - I didn’t bring lights, and reader beware, Centralia isn’t the safest in way of crime in addition to land hazard.

I treasured my time in Centralia, and while I’m sad I never got to see it in its vivid prime, I’m still glad I got to visit before even more of the eerie ghost-town disappears.  I’ve been absolutely swamped with photoshoots and their resulting edits this Fall, and to concentrate I’ve been delving into new podcasts.  One I immediately latched onto is The Goth Librarian Podcast; it has everything I love: obscura, oddities, crime, scandal, mystery, medical madness, and hands-down the coolest theme music ever.  I’m so sad it ended last year after only 37 episodes due to the amount of work behind it being non-compensated (no sponsors).  I finished editing the photos from this fun trip months ago this Summer; they’ve been sitting waiting for me to compose this fitting history of Centralia.  So I’ve been working on edits of a lot of other photoshoots since then, but color me delighted when I got to Episode 035: Ghost Towns which discussed Centralia, PA, the historic fire, and the resulting Graffiti Highway phenomenon.  Eventhough The Goth Librarian Podcast seems to have also been another victim of the pandemic (the host is fine, don’t worry; just the show), I can’t recommend listening to it enough.  With only 37 episodes, it only took me a few days to work my way through from beginning to end, it introduced me to new occurrences of history, refreshed me on numerous tales I already knew of, and gave me a few new museums to add to my list to visit.  Give the episode containing the story of Centralia and other ghost towns a listen here.

Rhode Island: Summer 2018

Foreward in 2021

As with the photos I recently posted from my 2017 trip to Rhode Island, the following is a collection of photos I’ve had in my personal backlog to edit and write about for several years.  I only recently finished editing the last of these photos and composing this post, because frankly, the sheer amount from the museum portions was so daunting (that, and I always put paid work first) - in fact there are so many from museums that I’ve given each museum their own post, and am only including a few highlights here with links to their respective full posts.  The non-museum photos were finished not long after the trip.

As always, I’m reiterating that these photos are from 2018, which was long before COVID-19 was ever a worry.  So, after two years of anticipation, here is my 2018 trip to Rhode Island, which includes recreating one of my earliest photographs, graveyards, fire stations, farms, bonsai, mansions, museums, street art, airports, and cars… lots of cars.

The New York City Empty Sky Memorial (Part 1)

Rather than flying this time, I made the 444mi journey by car because both Alyssa and I needed the scheduling flexibility having a car and no firm flight reservations would provide.  My plan for the trip up was to stop in New Jersey at the New York City Empty Sky Memorial, which is a part of Liberty State Park, Jersey City, New Jersey.  Unfortunately I got underway later than I’d hoped, finishing up a photoshoot that morning, and got stuck in rush hour traffic leaving the DC region and the tail end around Philadelphia.

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I did make it to the Empty Sky Memorial, but after the sun had set, which didn’t meet my reason for stopping by.  As you likely saw in my post two years ago, I took a photo of the Manhattan skyline including the Twin Towers in September, 2000 from Liberty State Park, at age 12; it is one of my earliest photographs, and unbeknownst to me at the time, my own capture of history.  The purpose of my visit was to attempt to recreate this photo.  Because it was evening by time I arrived, I chose not to try to find the spot I stood 18 years prior, and simply captured the New York skyline at nighttime - something I’ve never done despite numerous trips to New York as an adult.

I would have to drive this route on my return trip home, so I still had another chance to make this work, weather permitting.  As it turns out, on the return leg at the end of my trip, I was able to reach the park well before sunset, and as it so happened, the weather was almost identically patchy foggy like that day in 2000.  You will see highlights from the second visit at the end of this post - this post is sequential, and for larger photo sets like this I am only including highlights, and linking to the larger dedicated posts.

You can see the full set of my The New York City Empty Sky Memorial photos by clicking here.

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Rhode Island Cemeteries and Wright's Dairy Farm

I made it to Woonsocket, Rhode Island well after midnight and collapsed right away to sleep.  The next morning, in the appropriately spooky New England fog, Alyssa took me to several nearby cemeteries.  As with any graveyard, we spent a lot of time reading the headstones looking for the oldest dates and most interesting inscriptions.  Older headstones are often difficult or impossible to read not just because of age and older materials and construction methods, but also because of the effects of acid rain and pollution directly resulting from the industrial revolution, which of course in the United States was centralized in New England - this is part of deep-rooted history of Woonsocket and Northern Rhode Island we’ll address in detail later on in this post.

Some of the oldest headstones we spotted date back to the early 1700s, and one of the cemeteries we stopped at is resting place for Peleg Arnold, a lawyer and later State Supreme Court Chief Justice who represented Rhode Island as a delegate in the Continental Congress.  And those are just the ones we could read; many are so weathered they are indecipherable.

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Next, we visited the church where Alyssa was baptized, and she goes to midnight mass every Christmas.

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While driving back, we spotted an antique fire truck parked in front of a fire station; I had to stop and get some photos.  While checking it out, the owner came out of the fire station; turns out this fire truck is privately owned - it’s not owned by the fire department.  The owner is a firefighter who bought and restored the 1972 Maxim F ladder truck, which is an especially unusual sight today with its open cab.  In talking with the owner, it turns out he is stationed at T. F. Green Airport (PVD), so we had lots of aviation stuff to talk about.  In fact, keep reading, because this comes back into play later on in my trip.

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Our next stop was Wright's Dairy Farm for Alyssa’s birthday cake… and maybe a ton of other incredible sweets as well.  Wright's Dairy Farm offers tours that shows their milking operation, but we were just there to buy milk and sweets well after milking time, but we still of course said hi to the moo-cows!

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In the evening Alyssa had a “girls night” pre-birthday dinner and drinks that I attended despite not being one of the girls, and I enjoyed Rhode Island’s famous fried whole-belly clams while finally meeting some of Alyssa’s friends I’d only ever met over Facetime until now.

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Downtown Woonsocket

The next morning, Alyssa and I drove the few miles over to downtown Woonsocket for an early lunch to introduce me to another Rhode Island cuisine staple I’d only heard about: Hot Wiener.  Alyssa had told me stories about how her dad would take her to the New York Lunch for hot wieners as a kid, and the cook would prepare the wieners by laying a row of them all the way up their arm, and the cook’s sweat would add salty flavor to the dogs while assembling the wieners; health code prevents this theatric today, but Rhode Island hot wieners differ from a standard hot dog in that they are made of beef, veal, and pork, served on a steamed bun, and topped with celery salt, mustard, onion, and meat sauce.  The first time Alyssa visited me in DC, I introduced her to DC’s famous Ben’s Chili Bowl Half-Smokes while at a Nats game; these two regional foods are distinctly different, but clearly in the same category.

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We stopped by a nearby waterfall en route to our next major planned stop.  Rhode Island has lots of dams and waterfalls, a result of its Ocean State status and industrial revolution history.  Blackstone River and Canal is no exception.

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New England Bonsai Gardens

So, I’m not as big a plant nerd as Alyssa, but I still enjoy certain varieties.  I have several orchids, and the previous year, Alyssa had gotten me a Willow Leaf Ficus bonsai for Christmas - Alyssa finds her zen in all plants, and discovered the art of bonsai the previous Fall.  Luckily for her, New England is host to the largest bonsai nursery on the East coast, just across the border in Massachusetts.  She visited often enough the owners know her by name, but it was finally my turn to see all their varieties in person.

We both selected new bonsai to take home.  I’ve always admired junipers, but sadly the one I picked up and brought home with me didn’t make it in the end, dying about a month later from some combination of too much sunlight or too much or too little water - I’m just not sure, but it’s the only plant I’ve ever lost, even with my experience raising temperamental plants.  I’ve been told by others that DC’s climate has too harsh fluctuations for junipers to thrive, but I find that a bit hard to believe if they can thrive with care in New England.  Beats me.

Interestingly, since returning from this trip I’ve discovered that the nursery I frequent here in Virginia sources all their bonsai from New England Bonsai Gardens; it was obvious to me when I noticed they don’t even take NEBG’s inventory tags off.  On top of that, since this trip, Alyssa has visited me here in DC, and while conversing with some of the staff here, they both actually know some of the same people at NEBG since they source their bonsai from there.  I know this is a pretty niche interest, but it’s still a small world.

I’ve included some highlights of New England Bonsai Gardens below, and you can see more in its own post here.

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T. F. Green Airport

During my chance meeting the firefighter while checking out his antique ladder truck a few days prior, we’d discussed my connections to IAD and DCA, such as my multimedia roles, and interfacing with the airport police and fire departments for various projects.  Since then, we’d arranged time to meet up once again, while he was on-duty at PVD’s airfield rescue and firefighting station so he could give me a proper airfield tour from airside.  I love airports, and I love airport people!

I arrived at the ARFF station and met up with my new firefighter friend who was very eager to see me again.  Unfortunately part of our plan fell through, because due to other duties going on that day he was left without a service vehicle (beyond an ARFF truck, which you can’t exactly take out without a full crew in case there’s a call).  But no biggie; we still hung out airside for a few hours trading stories and watching aircraft taxi and take off.

T. F. Green’s airfield is interesting because its ATC tower and ARFF station are located on the opposite side of the passenger terminals; this is common (and normally necessitated by response time requirements) for ARFF stations, but although not unheard of for ATC, less common.  This location opposite the passenger terminals gave a much wider, different perspective of the airfield than one would normally get while simply catching their flight.

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At mid-day, this was a slow time between banks, when most aircraft were in the sky between destinations; this was on purpose so the likelihood of a call was lowest.  Just after I arrived, one of the New England Patriots’ private aircraft landed after performing practice maneuvers in preparation for an upcoming aerial display; you can see it taxiing back to its hardstand.

Enjoy the highlights of my visit to T. F. Green’s airfield below, and visit its full post for more pictures.

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Downtown Providence

Seeing as I had the rest of the day to myself, I decided to go explore nearby Providence, having never been there for any extended amount of time.  I was hungry and came across a Greek market and restaurant that was perfect for lunch.

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I found a trail that lead to a waterfront which gave a great view of the windmills and sea industry.

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Next I stopped by the Rhode Island State House.  It was closed, so I didn’t get to go inside, but I did explore the exterior.  Once night fell, the dome lights were rainbow colored to match the streetlight banners and other city decorations - for some reason Rhode Island Pride was in August, not June as is traditional.  Or perhaps they just left the lights and banners up for several months?  It’s not clear, because this was August, but everything I find says Rhode Island celebrates in June like everywhere else.

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Next I explored more of Providence’s downtown, following the canal toward the Providence Biltmore, all the way to the beautiful and vacant art deco Industrial National Bank Building.

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As the sun was setting, I stumbled across this 2015 mural entitled “She Never Came” created by Polish artist BEZT.

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Off-Day with Alyssa

The next day was an off-day, and Alyssa and I decided to not make any plans and just do errands and generally relax.  We took Hennessy to a pond to play, PetSmart for some new toys, and dinner at a friend’s taco restaurant.

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While stopping to check out a waterfall, we found a Vietnam war memorial.  Looking more closely, I found someone had laid a pillow with wedding rings tied to it.  The names of the fallen are on the memorial, but there was no indication for whom the rings were placed.

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Newport Car Museum

The next day was another day all to myself, and since I’m into cars but Alyssa is not, this seemed like the best day to head to Newport and check out the Newport Car Museum which was highly recommended to me by numerous gearhead friends and car groups I’m in.

I’m sharing some highlights of the Newport Car Museum in this post.  To see a more complete posting of the cars on exhibit, click her to visit its own dedicated post.

I was a little confused at first because the museum shares an entrance with a Raytheon office complex, but I’d heard that the owner, Gunther Buerman, formerly worked for Raytheon, so this wasn’t entirely surprising to me; from what I’ve read there’s no indication whether this is actually true, but the building that houses the Newport Car Museum was formerly a missile manufacturing facility on the Raytheon campus.  When I saw the cars parked out front I knew I was in the right place - there wasn’t anything super rare, but the SL550, Fiata, and modded A4 grouped together aren’t your super common econobox traffic.  I parked in their cluster of more interesting cars by the NPT CAR MUS flag.

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The most stunning thing about the museum besides the collection it contains is the architecture and interior design.  Opened in 2017, the museum was less than a year old when I was visiting, but it felt so well-established already with complete and modern designed exhibits and offerings from every era and genre of classic, exotic, and notable automotives available in the United States.  It’s a large museum filled with almost 100 cars and numerous pieces of art and furniture from names including Salvador Dali and Charles and Ray Eames, and it still has room for further buildout as the collection expands.

Upon walking in with my camera wearing a Porsche polo, the staff thought I was an automotive journalist on assignment and offered me a private tour; if I had played my hand differently I could have taken them up on it, but I was honest and said I was just vacationing, not wanting to waste anyone’s time.

The first stop when arriving is a room with Forza 6 driving simulators you can try once included with admissions if you’d like.  I was the only person there, and gave it a whirl, but the game crashed / froze less than a minute from it starting, and the attendant instead of resetting it said “you’re done” and wanted me to pay ~$25 to “go again.”  This was my first impression upon entering the museum mind you, and it left a bad taste in my mouth.  I politely told him that it’s a racket to expect me to pay for something of theirs that’s broken, and moved on.  Luckily being able to enjoy the rest of the museum uninterrupted helped me forget the bad first impression.

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The Newport Car Museum has some of my all-time favorites, such as a Diablo VT Roadster, only the second Countach I’ve ever seen, each major iteration of the Viper, the only XJ220 I’ve ever seen, the first second-generation Ford GT I’ve seen, and my dream car, the Porsche 4S Targa, though I’d prefer Forest Green Metallic, Mamba Green Metallic, or Anthracite Brown Metallic over Viper Green as displayed, despite my shirt matching in color.

The museum is also home to cars with race and movie heritage in addition to the rare and limited models on display.  Needless to say, the Newport Car Museum has something for everyone from every vintage from the 40s forward.  The staff was extremely friendly, and helpful in even pointing me towards other Rhode Island car collections and invited me to a nearby cars and coffee that I was unfortunately unable to attend seeing as it was after I’d headed home to DC.  I’m very curious to visit again the next time I’m in Rhode Island to see what additions have been made since my first visit.

This museum is so vast that I’ve given it its own dedicated post which you can view here, but I’m including a few highlights below.

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Evening in Newport

After the Newport Car Museum it was time for lunch, and I was craving a Newport lobstah roll - I hadn’t gotten a lobstah roll yet this trip, so I went to nearby Easton Beach to grab lunch on the beach.  After inhaling some chowda with my roll, I walked on the beach enjoying the waves rolling up on my feet before heading to the highly recommended Newport Cliff Walk.

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On the way to the Cliff Walk I spotted another car museum I’d heard of, however this one wasn’t open the day I was there.

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Over 100 years old, Newport’s Cliff Walk is a recreational nature trail along Rhode Island’s Eastern Shore that provides constant views of the ocean, and the historic mansions and oceanfront properties.  Many of these shoreline residences are now historic landmarks owned by non-profits, utilized as museums and event venues.  Others are still privately owned residences or have been converted to luxury hotels.  The Cliff Walk also take you past Salve Regina Univeristy, a private Catholic university with 2,000 undergraduates and 600 postgrad students founded in 1934.

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Museum of Work and Culture

I had the next day to myself as well, and after hearing about The Museum of Work and Culture for years after multiple visits to Woonsocket, I’d planned to start my day giving it a full runthough.  This seemed to surprise the small staff there, as I was the only person there the entire time I went, and on my way out the door several hours later the front desk attendant commented, “Oh, wow, I thought you’d left already!”  It may not be the most popular, but this Smithsonian affiliate museum is home to a ton of Rhode Island and New England history.

The Museum of Work and Culture shares the history of French-Canadian and Québécois immigrants who traveled to New England in the late 19th century at the end of the industrial revolution, where Rhode Island had a large textile industry.  As a result of the mass migration to New England, Rhode Island still to this day has an abundant French heritage; in fact, to this day, Woonsocket, where the museum is located, has the largest concentration of French and French-Canadian population in the US, dubbing itself La ville la plus française aux États-Unis, meaning “the most French city in the United States.”

The museum has so much on display in such a small space that, like the Newport Car Museum, it deserves its own post.  You can view that post here, and enjoy some highlights below:

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Visible through out the museum windows is the Blackstone River, one of the dams utilized by the surrounding textile industry, and some of the few remaining mill buildings that have mostly been converted into apartments.

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Later that night, Alyssa and I went to an arcade bar in Providence and shaped our new junipers.  I was hoping to create a blended spiral shape with growth.  This night also marked the only time I’ve ever seen or played a TRON machine.  Alyssa spent most of her time on Frogger, which she used to play with her Dad, and I tried the various pinball machines, mostly sticking with The Simpsons.  We both spent over an hour playing air hockey against each other, and later teaming up against other challengers.

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The New York City Empty Sky Memorial (Part 2)

The next day it was time for me to depart and head home.  I had two planned stops in New York (technically New Jersey); I was once again heading to The New York City Empty Sky Memorial to attempt to recreate the photo I’d taken at Liberty State Park of the New York skyline at age 12, and afterwards I had plans to meet up with my friend Natalie who lived a few miles away in Weehawken.  After spending over a week making Hennessy fall in love with me, I had to hit the road while the pupper was out for the day with Alyssa’s sister - I never got to properly tell the pupper goodbye :-(

This time around I made good time en route to New York, only hitting traffic in Fairfield and approaching the George Washington Bridge, with no rain this way.  As chance would have it, this route took me right past the Liberty Science Center and the locally renowned and beloved Liberty Park Diner which my family ate at every day for the few days in September of 2000 we “visited New York” (we never actually left New Jersey, and only saw New York from Jersey City, NJ).  A part of me wanted to stop in for a waffle after taking my pictures at Liberty State Park, but I had been invited to eat at Natalie’s.  Despite already having dinner plans, I now regret not at least popping in, because sadly, as of this writing, The Liberty Park Diner has now permanently closed; another small-business victim of the COVID-19 pandemic.

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I pulled onto the brick road leading to Liberty State Park and knew I had succeeded in capturing something to match my film photo of the Twin Towers; remarkably, even the weather was visually similar to that day in 2000.  I quickly parked, and in my excitement that I was going to actually be able to capture this photo, I had to slow myself down and think, plan - grab my camera, think about what settings I want to use, clean and dry my hands, grab the print of my 2000 photo and be sure to keep it secure, clean, and undamaged on the way to the spot, and think about how best to locate the exact spot.

You can see the full set of my The New York City Empty Sky Memorial photos by clicking here.

My original photo from 2000:

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Inspecting the original picture, I counted 12 light poles visible, which would give me a good starting point to get me close to the same spot for that matching perspective.  To my surprise, the park benches and even the trash cans hadn’t changed in all this time.  In order to fit all 12 light posts in-frame, I walked back parallel to 13th light post from the end, and incredibly the perspective aligned almost perfectly - even the park benches lined up, though some trash cans moved, as you’d expect they would over the course of 18 years.

To my amazement, it took me longer to walk to this spot from my car than it did to fight the wind and correctly line up my photograph in the shot.

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And here are the photos, 2000 and 2018, side-by-side.  History in both pictures; the Twin Towers visible in 2000, and One World Trade Center erected adjacent to the empty sky where they once stood.  Many other buildings have also sprung up across the skyline, and the freshly planted trees in my original picture are all grown up today.

After capturing a variety of photos lining up my print with the skyline fighting the wind and eventual arm cramps, I head over to the Empty Sky Memorial to take in and shoot it and the NYC skyline in daylight, since i’d only seen it at night before.  I was about an hour from sunset, and I decided to stay here until dark and capture daylight and dusk photos of both memorial and city.

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Once it had become as dark as it was when I’d been here just a week prior, I packed it up and head over to meet up with Natalie, who I hadn’t seen in several years.  A few miles away, I was greeted by an excited Sophie who was eager to show off the tricks Natalie has taught her over the years, and I of course grabbed a few selfies after scarfing down a huge salad, which Natalie told me she’s found is good roadtrip food because it counters any junk you’ve been tempted to eat - she was absolutely right and God did it hit the spot.

I’d only intended to stay an hour or so, but I should have known better, because any time the two of us get together the time flies, and it was past 1AM by time I head out.

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As chance would have it, somewhere in the dark walking out to my car I stepped in something that smelled absolutely lovely, which I didn’t realize until I’d gotten back onto the New Jersey Turnpike and gotten a few miles away.  As everyone knows, New Jersey is known as “the armpit of America,” and it has a lot of industry serving New York along the I-95 / New Jersey Turnpike corridor.  It often smells, and it took me a few minutes to put together that the foul smell I was rapidly becoming overwhelmed by was coming from inside the car, not outside.  I pulled over at the next rest area, which was mercifully only a few miles away.

Quickly getting out into the fresh New Jersey air, I inspected the damage; yup, shoe covered in dog poo, and unfortunately it was also all over my clutch pedal - stepping in it with my left foot only was the only luck to be had, because it meant my brake and accelerator were safe.  I did my best to scrape off what was on my shoe, but it was the most concrete / adherent poo I’ve ever had the misfortune of dealing with, so inside the rest area I ordered a large coffee from the Starbucks stand and explained my situation to the barista, asking for trash bags and any cleaning supplies she had.  No joy on the cleaning supplies, but she gave me several Hefty trash bags.  With a bit more luck, the restroom didn’t limit you to blow dryers, so I grabbed a thick stack of paper towels from the restroom, wet them, and head out to my car.

I’d brought a second pair of shoes along, so I changed into them and threw my poo-shoes into one of the trash bags and tied it tight.  Next, I started trying to wipe down my poor, brown clutch pedal, holding my breath while leaning into the footwell by the source, but it wasn’t doing much - the poo was sandy concrete.  Regathering my plan, I went back inside and bought two large bottles of water - one to drink, the other to sacrifice.  With a thick stack of paper towels across my footwell, I poured water on the clutch pedal to try and loosen the concrete poo, then scrubbing away with an even thicker stack of wetted paper towels.

After several trips in and out to refill the water bottle, blatantly steal an obscene amount of paper towels, and repeat this process of drenching and scrubbing, over the course of over an hour I finally got the clutch pedal’s stainless steel and rubber pads exposed and all traces of poo eliminated.  All traces except for the smell, at least.  The smell was mostly gone, except for what had permeated the cabin itself, and whatever was left on the floormat.  I disposed of all the paper towels in one of the Hefty bags, and threw the floormat in another, tightly tying it shut with the poo-shoe-bag inside, and threw those in the trunk, hoping the smell wouldn’t penetrate the bags, but it was so pungent I truly was worried the bags might not contain it.

After sanitizing my entire arms inside, I finally sat back down in my driver’s seat, pushed the clutch in, and started my car back up at almost 2AM - remember, I still have ~4hrs driving ahead of me at this point, when I’d expected to already be home for several hours by now.  Sniff test: Only a whiff of poo-crete every here and there; I’d gotten it good enough to drive the rest of the journey home.

So off I went again - I was pretty much the only car on the road the entire 250mi home, and I finally arrived home as the sky was beginning to lighten as the sun approached the horizon.  Before I finally got to get some sleep, Alyssa Facetimed me as she was waking up and had me say goodbye to Hennessy since I hadn’t been able to in person - since I was gone by time she got back, she didn’t know where’d I’d gone and was depressed and looking around for me constantly, since I’d become her best friend and sleeping buddy from day one.  This would actually continue for several weeks, and she was so depressed I was gone she stopped eating.  A few days later I literally had to Facetime the dog to tell her to eat, at which point she began eating again.  But now, to this very day, she will look at me on Facetime, and then snort, flipping her head away in a pout when she sees me, because she still feels betrayed I didn’t say goodbye in person - I am not making this up.  Look pup, I tried to, I wanted to, I even delayed my departure thinking you’d be home sooner - you’re still my pupper.

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2020 Washington Auto Show

2020 has started off quite stressful for me, due to some health issues being faced by members of my family, so I am behind in posting, but here we are! With everything going on, I was fortunate to be able to make it out to the Washington Auto Show this year, which I look forward to and make it a point to attend every year. Since I wanted to relax by going to the show, this year I brought along my 85mm f/1.2; my favorite lens - great for details (and portraits), but a specialized lens not for wide scene captures.

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First things first; the new “Mustang.” I can’t say I agree with Ford’s decision to place the Mustang marque on an all-electric crossover-type vehicle, and I found the car itself uglier than the press photos released when the new direction Mustang is going was released. I, however, am in the minority, as the general public seems to love it based on overhearing others viewing it at the auto show - apparently Ford’s market research was accurate. Apparently the C8 Corvette was also on display at this show, and I walked right past it without noticing - that’s interesting.

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As an Infiniti driver, I am of course an Infiniti fan. The Q60 has grown on me since the CV37 released in 2017, and despite some exciting engine options up to 400hp, it is still being done the disservice of being sold without any manual transmission option whatsoever.

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Anyone who knows me knows I love Porsche. They unfortunately did not have a display at this year’s show, but that didn’t stop me from photographing every Porsche I spotted at the show.

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Christmas in St. Louis, 2017

As many of you know, much of my family lives in St. Louis, Missouri.  As always, I took along my camera, however given my still-recovering knee I brought it with no intentions of photographing anything in particular; my plan was to sit and let it heal, and that's largely what I did.  I did, however, shoot some photos as I saw them, so I'm including some highlights of my trip here.

Before I could leave town, however, I had to find someone to care for the bonsai Alyssa gave me.  I may have decorated it beforehand though...

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Roadtripping there led to I-70 to visit with Bernie and Natalie in Indianapolis while there was clear weather along the Northern route.  First though was a stop at a West Virginia rest area with an overlook of the carved-through mountain.  This mountain pass is usually completely coated in shimmering ice by December, so it was a new sight to see its bare rock in direct sunlight.

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Next stop was seeing Bernie and Natalie at a Steak N Shake not far from their home in Indianapolis.  Interestingly, we've done this enough times that some of the wait staff recognize us now, and gave us free coffee for the road.  Can you say *you're* a regular at a restaurant 600 miles away?

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Upon arrival in St. Louis I may have decorated my hotel room...

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I've developed somewhat of a tradition of taking my cousin Carrie's kids out each year to see the latest Star Wars.  This year, however, I had been doing a bit of punking and when they asked me when we were going to see The Last Jedi I told Ryan and Alex I'd already seen it a few days earlier (true).  "But we always go!"  Sarcastically feigning pain, "Ow, my knee *really* hurts...  I don't think I can see it..."

And then I started in on the mix of spoilers:  Han Solo dies!  Luke drinks green milk fresh from a teat... then he tickles Rey's hand with a leaf!  It's just like Battlestar Galactica except there's no whiteboard!  Kylo Ren kills Han Solo, and boy oh boy do I have some bad news for you about Carrie Fisher... BOOM!!!  *feigns gasping for air*

Obviously you wouldn't know what of that is true or false unless you've seen the movie; little did they know it's all true... but with a 2 ton asterisk on the end, and none of it is central to the plot.  Also little did they know I'd already bought the tickets.  So, Christmas morning came and I'd given them a Christmas card simply signed "Han Solo dies!!!" inside, with the tickets to Star Wars, Episode VIII: The Last Jedi in 3D for the next day.  The reaction of them realizing what it was was pretty worth it.

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Fast forward a few days to my mom's birthday, and we're all sitting around my grandpa's kitchen table visiting with him.  He's 98, and last year I gave him prints of some aerial photos I've taken, and pictures of me taking some of them; he's always been intrigued by flight, and is always asking what kind of aviation stuff I'm taking pictures of, so it was a fitting gift - I think he lives vicariously through me a little since I've been on some flights he didn't even get to experience in the Army.  This year I accidentally left this year's new prints at the hotel on Christmas, so I instead gave him the prints a few days later; it was for the best - he was more awake and focused than on Christmas with all the tiring activity.

This part really made my day - this is my 98 year old grandfather reading an article on AirlineGeeks.com profiling me and my marketing photography work in the aviation industry.  Here is my only remaining grandparent soaking in every word of an article about me.  His only question was "what is a Plane Pull?"  I showed him pictures and explained the charity event.

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This was almost a two week trip, but it flew right by, and as you've seen I don't have too terribly many photos to share from it due to my own preference of rehabbing my knee (12-weeks post MPFL Reconstruction surgery as of that week), and extreme caution to avoid ice and any slippery footing; St. Louis always harsher, more annoying Winters than DC - almost every day it is in the teens or single digits, accompanied by freezing rain, snow, or sleet.  There were only ~2 days of the entire stay that didn't have some kind of Winter precipitation - not a welcome sight for post-op knee safety, even if at 12 weeks my gracilis tendon has *in theory* fused with my bones and become a new ligament.

That same Winter weather was tracking North, so the I-64 Southern route was the obvious choice to return to DC.  St. Louis has a lot of decay in certain areas; I find it beautiful, although those aren't areas I would recommend going on a touristy photo-walk unless you're an experienced urban explorer (I am not).  The highway out of town takes you straight past some of these spots, so I always love seeing the decaying abandoned industrial buildings leaving St. Louis and into Illinois.

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Later, in Kentucky, one of the rest areas just a few miles from the Woodford Reserve Distillery had a display of Kentucky Whiskey memorabilia and selections from local vineyards.  I'm much more of a scotch person, but I think I'd really enjoy visiting the Woodford Reserve Distillery.

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Finally, some sights heading into Louisville, Kentucky; it's always seemed like it would be a really cool city to explore and perhaps even live in, but I've never understood why a city most famous for its baseball bats only has a AAA team which feeds into an Ohio team.

I've seen a few sitting in parking lots, but I've mostly only seen these when I visit the Infiniti dealer for service; this is the first time I've spotted a CV37 generation Infiniti Q60 driving on the road.  I do kinda like it, but it still just seems like a mashup of BMW 4 Series / Mazda 6 / Honda Accord to me; in other words, as a whole, unoriginal.  There is also the glaring omission of a manual transmission option.  I'll spare you the full car review, but I have quite a few complaints about the interior as well.  That all said, it's still a really sharp looking car.

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Hands down my favorite sight along I-64 is this oil refinery; the steam is always distinctive and visible for miles, and between the steam clouds and thousands of sodium lamps, it's roadside industrial Christmas.  This is the first time I've ever seen them burning off excess gas; the industrial candle lit the lumbering overhead plumes even brighter, adding depth with its flicker.

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That night, while editing some photos, I again felt compelled to decorate my hotel room; these AA powered Christmas lights are the best $7 I spent all of 2017!  They served as the perfect nightlight while editing that evening (the room lamps were all just too bright), and the perfect warmup in my groggy, pre-coffee state the next morning.

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By morning the band of snow in the North had swirled down and reached an arm down to the I-64 corridor; the <1" of accumulation was welcome in comparison to the >36" the same storm had dropped in a matter of hours North in Pennsylvania overnight.

West Virginia's capital building has always drawn me to visit, but I still haven't had the chance.  It looks very beautiful, from the quick glimpses you spot it passing through Charleston.

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Regular Car Reviews - October, 2016 Car Meet

If you've never heard of Regular Car Reviews, well, first we need to get you up to speed.  RCR, as it's affectionately called, is a YouTube channel that started four short years ago, quickly gaining popularity in the car enthusiast blog circuit communities, namely Jalopnik.  Mr. Regular, the faceless (until last year) voice behind the reviews, along with music and filming assistant Roman, release a new "regular" car review each week, broken into seasons.

Regular has multiple meanings all used at once: RCR reviews "regular" cars for "regular" folks in a way a "regular" guy would see it.  In other words, RCR reviews pedestrian cars by means of pop culture references and fart jokes.  It's very popular.

Neither of my cars have been reviewed despite offering my 2001 Sebring Coupe (which DEFINITELY would have fit in perfectly) before I got rid of it, nor my G37S 6MT or Jake's Jaguar XF or Ford Cougar, but my friend Patrick's 2004 VW Phaeton was reviewed, and at the time Mr. Regular said it was a tie between the Phaeton and the Tesla Model S for the nicest "regular" car he's reviewed.  Here is the Phaeton video as an introduction.  The most iconic RCR video, however, is of modern motoring's most loved little sportscar, the answer to all questions, the Miata.

Headlights go up, headlights go down! Track day bro!

So, now you should understand RCR and the international following it's gathered.  While there have been two previous meetups, both at the same combination rec-center-and-bar (huh? small town) in Mr. Regular's hometown in Orwigsburg, Pennsylvania, those were both just pub nights - grab a few drinks and talk cars - I went to the first meetup this past January.  Mr. Regular is in fact in the picture below.

January, 2016 Regular Car Reviews meetup, posed with Silicone Sally.

January, 2016 Regular Car Reviews meetup, posed with Silicone Sally.

This weekend was special though, because it was the first time Mr. Regular has organized a car meet.  I wouldn't miss it.

The meet started at 9AM, and Orwigsburg is ~3hrs away, so Jake and I hit the road before sunrise to get there on time, even stopping for breakfast at the same Sheetz we hit every time we make the trip.

As it turns out, I was the 2nd G37 at the meet - the other was a 2013 7AT xS.  Andrew, the owner, was a really chill guy I wish I'd gotten to chat with longer.  For full disclosure, there wasn't much chatter and I didn't shoot many pictures because I was so tired - I am *not* a morning person.  I've always liked the facelifted front bumper with lower foglights (my fogs are built into the headlights), but they didn't start using that bumper until 2011MY, and my 2010 was an incredible, unheard of deal for a 6MT in black with 33K miles.  No regrets.

A fun fact some DMV residents may not know; Pennsylvania does not require front plates, which is why many of the cars at this meet lack front plates without fear of a ticket.  My car was a former lease car in Allentown, PA, so when I bought it it had no front plate mount.  I actually am running an aftermarket mount that mounts under the bumper, so if I ever wanted to remove the front plate I don't have any unsightly holes.

The PugCityRacing bagged Mustang attracted a lot of attention thanks to its lowrider status and stripped interior - simplify and add lightness.

There were plenty of other regular cars on hand, including a few TDIs awaiting refund checks.

I was informed that caffeine adds +25HP.

You can never go wrong with a W10 or W20 MR2; I am wondering if they are undergoing some kind of revival, because this is the 2nd one I've seen in the last two weeks.

For me, the AE86s were the most interesting "regular" cars on hand... until the Infiniti M30 Convertible rolled in at the end of the show.  Apparently it shares engine, suspension, and electronic bits with the Maxima of the time, but has the frame of the previous generation Maxima (even though it looks like the equal gen Maxima).  I actually didn't know this car was made in drop-top form until this weekend.  The car was only produced for 3 years, and Nissan contracted American Sunroof Corporation to convert half of the M30s into convertibles brand new.  The 1992 M30 was Infiniti's only convertible until the G37 convertible was introduced in 2009 (one year after the G37 coupe and sedan were introduced to replace the G35 / 350Z platform).  I totally fan-girled over this car.  This is a car from the late 80s with an electronically adjustable suspension (Comfort / Sport switch on center console).

The star of the show of course was Mr. Regular's very own Vagabond Falcon, which if you follow Regular Car Reviews on YouTube, you've watched Mr. Regular complete a full restoration to the car.  Silicone Sally, the 2007 Honda Fit funded by RCR viewers was not on hand this time around.

I love Instagram Stories (hate Snapchat though), so here is my Story from the day; check out the crazy amount of play in the stick of this Ford... Fox Body(?)... ...Mustang???

Sorry for the long post; have a corgi!!!