I just got back from seeing the hand doctor this morning. The appointment, so I thought, was to see if I was ready to go back to the incredibly dangerous job of unloading poorly loaded trucks filled with finger-crushing and neck-breaking boxes. But no, it was just a regular old check up. I did, however, make an appointment to see him again in a couple of weeks to make that decision.

Today, the doctor gave me a “buddy strap,” which sounds sort of dirty, but really it’s just a strap that ties my fourth and fifth fingers together so that my fifth finger (the one that was smashed) will stop dangling off to the side. That, apparently, is an issue.

I am officially through with physical therapy, which is nice – though I liked it and my therapist was a pretty swell guy. We talked about computers, football and today we talked about a fourth of July celebration at some lake where his in-laws have a cabin that features a guy in a pontoon plane who attempts to drop watermelons from 300 feet up onto a target placed on a barge in the middle of this lake. He’s been doing it for years and has yet to hit the target (or the barge), but when the watermelons hit the water, they explode creating a very large red splash.

This sounds like something I would enjoy. I bet Ryan has already Googled it.

So that’s where I am with the finger smashage. It’s healed much more than anyone thought it would, though it’s unlikely it will completely heal. The folks at the hand place have been great and I’ll miss them, but if I’m put back into the same job where I was before, I’m sure it won’t be long until I’m visiting them again.

One of my more geeky pleasures is listening to audio books (usually while in the shower). Almost exclusively, these have been Civil War books. Having just finished Stephen Sears’s Gettysburg, I needed another. I searched the library and came across a book about the confederate partisan Mosby. The book, Mosby’s Men by John Henry Alexander was available for download, so I got it and started listening right away.

What I thought would be a history turns out to be a memoir. But the memoir isn’t a day-by-day account of what it was like to be with John S. Mosby. It is more of a collection of stories, happenings and slice-of-life scenarios than a narrative.

I love the writing style. It’s wordy and witty and can say the most bawdy things in very elegant ways.

One passage that made me giggle was about the ladies in Mosby’s Confederacy.

The women of Mosby’s Confederacy were the divinities to whom the Rangers were always true… never have I heard of a single instance of the betrayal by one of them of a too-confiding woman’s trust.

But I must continue to use the plural when I speak of each man’s “divinities.” If it is not good grammar, it is true—like Ben Jonson’s poetry that didn’t rhyme. The fact is that the boys were guilty of considerable laxity (or perhaps I should say liberality) in the matter of sweethearts. Their devotion to the sex was too ardent and profound to be exhausted by a single object, and they could not be absolutely loyal to Katie Wells and Gentle Annie both. The most that I can claim for a real Mosby man is that he could be perfectly “happy with either dear charmer, with t’other dear charmer away”— and this seemed to satisfy each in her turn.

Indeed, they were just as much sinned against as sinning in this regard. The dear girls took their liberties too. For instance: After the Greenback raid, the boys were pretty flush. Among other means which two of them took to get the good of their money before they died, they sent across the Potomac for engagement rings for their best girls. Now it happened that they sent by the same blockade-runner and he brought back two handsome bands which were exact “twinses.” In due course and with all proper ceremony they were set as seals to the pure and endless love which they were intended to symbolize. The swains soon made an unexpected call together upon a certain lady, and you can imagine the satisfaction with which they discovered both rings on the same finger. Some embarrassment arose in the adjustment of relations, but as neither fellow could identify his property, the girl remained mistress of the situation and of the rings.

One belle of the Confederacy, a girl “of a provident mind,” thought to hedge against the casualties of war by placing her bets, so to speak, judiciously around—some in Mosby’s command, and some in different branches of the regular service. She played to great luck, and after the surrender claimants for her heart and hand turned up from various directions. I happened to be at one of her levees (as a spectator) and could not but admire the skill with which she met the embarrassing situation and made each one happy in the assurance that he was the favorite. However, one of those accidents which will happen, betrayed the truth. Whereupon her victims held a caucus and unanimously passed a resolution that she was too smart for domestic purposes.

After I got back from the trip on Wednesday night, Ryan and I hung out and I talked up the fine little town of Index, Washington.

I talked about the river and how the mountains surround the entire town, the old cars and broken down houses. There’s a real world quaintness to Index. It’s not like other quaint towns, like Issaquah or Snoqualmie (or Lewisburg). It’s not a cute town, really. But it’s got history that isn’t sugar-coated in Forth of July parades and Victorian gingerbreading.

So anyway, we headed out to Index with the kids. They enjoyed it pretty well (there was a river and rocks to throw into it).

Have I mentioned how beautiful Index is?

You can check out the pictures. Amazing place.

Yesterday I rode 352 miles in a small attempt to see some beautiful countryside and mountains, rivers and roads. Also, to study old alignments of the Stevens Pass Scenic Highway (now a segment of US Route 2).

I took the Vespa (Ruby II) and made a day of it, leaving at 7am and returning around 7:45pm. I took a ton of pictures, discovered some new things, got lost-ish, fell in love with the town of Index and generally had an amazing time.

If you like, you can view all of the pictures from the day. Also, in this set are maps that I’ve made showing which roads I took, some speculations and some mistakes I made.

It was great to be back on the road again. I just wish that I had a better camera to capture it all.

Click here to check out the pics!

I post regularly on a forum dedicated to the study of old and abandoned highways. Since Wednesday is set for my day-long excursion along the Stevens Pass Scenic Highway, I posted about it there. Though it’s a bit of reiteration of my previous blog posting, I thought I’d copy/paste it here.

Most old roads across America were originally Native American paths, early military roads or forged by pioneers heading west in the mid 1800s. This goes for mountain passes as well. However, the neat thing about Stevens Pass in Washington is that it wasn’t even discovered until 1890. Less than three years later, the pass was conquered by the railroad. However, it wouldn’t be until 1924 that the first car would make it over.

The Stevens Pass Scenic Highway (as it was originally know) officially opened a year later. In 1931, the state took over, naming it the less-catchy Primary State Highway 15. It became part of a federal highway, US Route 2, in 1948. It still holds that name today.

There’s a lot to discover along the US 2 corridor. Today, it stretches from Everett to just west of Peshastin – a distance of just over 100 miles. Though the pass wasn’t conquered until 1924, the roads leading up to the pass existed well before the crossing. Old alignments abound through Snohomish, King and Chelan counties.

As far as I am aware, this road was never part of a named road like the Yellowstone Trail or the National Parks Highway (both of those used Snoqualmie Pass to the south). This has always been a hidden local treasure, even after being adopted into the US highway system.

Thanks to Dave’s advice, this site and GoogleEarth, I’ve discovered old logging trails, early alignments, abandoned towns, tons of answers and more than a few questions. Armed with several maps dating back to 1895, speculation and some mighty fine weather, I’ll be touring the entire length of the Stevens Pass Scenic Highway on my red Vespa GTS250 (named “Ruby II” – the same scooter that carried me 14,000 miles, twice across the country in 2008) on Wednesday. I’ll be hitting every old alignment that I am aware of as well as some sights along the way. It should be about a 350 mile round trip.

Upon returning, I’ll post pictures of the trek as well as maps and explanations of the different alignments. For anyone that likes sniffing out possible old alignments, this is for you. For those that just like to look at pictures taken along the road, well, I’m sure you won’t be disappointed – it’s rare for me to come back from a trip such as this with less than 150 pictures.

I’m not really sure how much interest they’ll be in this little road, but I hope that some folks enjoy it.

More to come.

I really do. It’s a word that’s sprung from this recession we’ve got going on and it’s supposed to make us feel better for not being able to afford real vacations. “See! It’s like a vacation, but it all happens in one day!” Crap.

Anyway, I’m taking a day trip (ha!) along US 2 in western Washington. Mostly, it’s a research trip, riding the back and abandoned roads of the Stevens Pass Highway. It should be a bit of fun and I’m fairly excited about it.

I’ve been hitting the old maps, discovering ones from 1895, 1901 and 1902. The roads that I’ll be taking mostly existed back then, before cars. Some are abandoned and I’ll be searching out where they used to be. I’m like a really boring detective!

Well, it’s not really boring to me. And besides, I get to be back on the open road, if only for a day. the ground I’ll be covering is the same ground covered in a car not too long ago. I’ll be focusing more on the road rather than on the train tunnel, etc., but it should still be a bit of fun.

I’m still mapping it out and making the directions. When you’re following abandoned alignments, you can’t just follow road signs. You have to know where they are. And for the most part, I do.

So on Wednesday morning, I’ll set out early and try to cover the 350 mile round trip as swiftly as possible to get me back before (or not too long after) dark. I’ll post pictures and a bit of info on the old road. If you don’t really care about the history of highways (and I realize that most don’t – that’s fine), at least there will still be pictures of the very beautiful Stevens Pass.

I’m hoping to make it from Everett to Peshastin, as sort of shown here. This routing pretty well follows what was known as part of the National Parks Highway in Washington. It was also called the Stevens Pass Highway and the Cascades Highway. This is the entire length of the road. It ended at what is now US 97 at Blewett Pass.

From there, I’ll turn around and take modern US 2 back to Seattle. We’ll have over 12 hours of daylight with a 7am sunrise. I hope to be on the road by then. It’ll be nice, though it’s a shame I won’t be camping and traveling like I used to. I really miss that. I have a feeling that this trip will make me miss it more.

Yesterday we hit the Puyallup Fair! It wasn’t quite as cool as the Evergreen State Fair, for some reason, but still a ton of fun, of course.

I didn’t take much more than 40 pictures. For some reason, it just wasn’t a photogenic as Evergreen. However, we ate greasy food, the kids rode some rides and we saw the very, very cool Al’s Brain, a 3-D exhibit and movie about the inner-workings of the human brain, hosted by Weird Al Yankovic!

Here, check out the pics…