Rob and I woke up early to load his adorably sporty Kia Forte with clothes, gear, and snacks. GPS was configured. Wheels up at 6:11am with an odometer reading of 29,195. Rob immediately fired up “Beep Beep” by the Playmates, one of the songs from our western US road trip that still gives us a giggle.
Woke up this morning to reports of air quality conditions reaching unhealthy levels in many east coast cities. Those Canadian wildfires are really messing things up. Outdoor events and at least 3 MLB games in the region have been postponed or canceled due to the horrible air quality. We must be in a lucky pocket of clean air. Aside from a light haze, things seem mostly pleasant around here. I hope we stay lucky for a few more days as we continue our road trip.
We loaded up the car, said goodbye to our little Red Roof Inn, and hit the road. Shortly after getting on the interstate, Rob hit a bird with the windshield. We debated for a moment whether or not it was dead before cranking up the music and continuing on our journey.
Just outside of Cleveland is the grave of deadball baseball star Ed Delahanty. He’s an interesting figure in baseball history.
Edward James Delahanty (October 30, 1867 – July 2, 1903), nicknamed “Big Ed”, was an American professional baseball player, who spent his Major League Baseball (MLB) playing career with the Philadelphia Quakers, Cleveland Infants, Philadelphia Phillies, and Washington Senators. He was renowned as one of the game’s early power hitters, and while primarily a left fielder, also spent time as an infielder. Delahanty won a batting title, batted over .400 three times, and has the fifth-highest career batting average in MLB history. He was elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1945.
Delahanty died when he was swept over Niagara Falls in early July 1903. He was apparently kicked off a train by the train’s conductor for being drunk and disorderly. The conductor said Delahanty was brandishing a straight razor and threatening passengers after he consumed five whiskies. After being kicked off the train, Delahanty started his way across the International Railway Bridge connecting Buffalo, New York with Fort Erie (near Niagara Falls) and fell or jumped off the bridge (some accounts say Delahanty was yelling about death that night). Whether Delahanty died from his plunge over the Falls or drowned on the way to the Falls is uncertain. His body was found at the bottom of Niagara Falls two weeks after his death.
Calvary Cemetery is huge with meandering roads over gentle slopes. There are some impressive tombstones in this one, making our slow drive through serenely beautiful. Using the map posted by the entrance, it was easy to find Delahanty’s section. He rests in a Delahanty family plot right next to road, buried between his parents and sister. There were no baseballs or memorabilia this time, just a standing tombstone with the family name and small markers for each family member, all of them filthy.
Woke up to the most glorious blue skies and sunshine in Chambersburg, Pennsylvania. An absolutely perfect morning. We’ve really lucked out with the weather, somehow avoiding most of the smoke and haze from the Canada wildfires and hardly seeing a drop of rain for the whole trip.
Our drive to Gettysburg took us past red barns and deer, both of which we’ve seen every day on this trip. The number of red barns we’ve passed is uncountable, and deer have made daily appearances in cemeteries, in run-down residential neighborhoods, at place crash sites, and walking through outdoor patio furniture displays and across parking lots in small towns. They really are everywhere, and they’re pretty chill around humans.
Gettysburg on a sunny Saturday morning is swarming with tourists. Old folks, families, and school groups of rowdy kids who were really just there to goof off packed the visitor center. We picked up a map for an auto tour of the Gettysburg battlefields, Rob got his souvenir squished pennies for his girlfriend, and we were on our way.
I’ve been very fortunate to have done a lot of traveling over the years, and my country bucket list is growing shorter and shorter. Remaining in the top tier are Japan, China, Turkey, and Morocco. With work and life making it hard to take the several week-, month-, or year-long adventures I used to take, I have accepted that I’m going to have to take shorter trips to these places if I am to visit them at all. The only thing that’s been missing is a travel partner. Sure, I could do these trips alone, but after completing my fair share of solo travel over the years, I’ve found that it’s now more fun to take these kinds of trips with someone I enjoy.
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Our morning taxi to Hassan II Mosque was a great way to beat the heat. The driver was friendly and the unmetered fare was reasonable.
We got tickets for the mosque museum, grounds, and tour. Decorative arches and buttresses covered the doorways and ceilings of the museum. Lindsay marveled at the colorful and intricate wood carvings, brass engravings, and tile mosaics. I was blown away by the photographic opportunities outside as we approached the mosque.
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On our way to Fès, we drive through some rolling hills before pulling off the road for a quick stop. Perched atop one of these rolling hills were historical Roman ruins in a place called Volubilis. We stepped out of the van into the blazing sun, 102° F and humid. We composed ourselves in the shade of a tree screaming with crickets as our guide explained to us how the ruins are all that remain of a larger city of 15,000 people that existed sometime around the 1st century. We were shown well-preserved mosaics in the floors of former residences and some columns and arches that are still standing.
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After enjoying our Fès hotel breakfast of eggs, potatoes, pastries, and the ubiquitous yellow melon, we got piled into the bus for the long drive south to the Sahara. Mohamed said the drive would be about nine hours. It was a cool, clear, beautiful morning in Fès, a nice send-off for us.
As we made our way south, trees gradually disappeared, replaced by desolate scrubland. Then scrubland and hills started to give way to higher mountains that our roads had to wind around. After were about a mile in elevation, things began to level off into rugged high plains.
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We and a family of noisy doves woke up to watch the sun rise over the sand dunes of the Sahara. Pretty cool.
The 4×4 Land Cruiser tour was not quite the adrenaline ride up and down sand dunes I imagined. It was a more gentle tour of camel pens, a desert oasis, and more views of the dunes. Along the edge of the dunes is a string of sand-colored hotels and resorts, and there is a strong cellular and wifi everywhere. I didn’t realize this area would be so developed.
The dunes and surrounding landscape are a palette of faded orange and gray. The orange comes from the color of the nearby Atlas Mountains, but the grayish black rocks are still a mystery to this amateur geologist. Expansive plains strewn with these black rocks make this area look like the surface of another planet. Unfortunately, the landscape is also littered with garbage, mostly empty water bottles.
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Morning found us walking through the narrowest crevice of the expansive Todra Gorge, where we found lots of people living in tents, makeshift tables and stalls with souvenirs, and the spring source of the Todra River. I asked Mohamed if we could drink the water directly from the spring, but he assured me that it would make me sick. Apparently the pathogens in Morocco water come from the source and not from the water treatment plants, as I suspected.
Mohamed is good. Friendly, helpful, and knowledgeable. At each of our stops, he shares facts and history, and on the bus, he’ll do the same over the microphone. But it’s always low-key. Maybe it’s just not in his culture to be high-energy and enthusiastic.
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My name is Jeff. I'm a photographer and web developer living in Alexandria, Virginia, USA.
