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Day Six is in the box.  I am eternally grateful that we did not do this trip in July, or I would be typing this from The Great Beyond, I am sure.  And there really isn’t good satellite reception from there, I’m told.

As it is, I am in a somewhat cooled-air laundry room at 10pm, waiting for our laundry to finish, and breathing is not coming easily.  It was 93 degrees today, with 53% humidity.  It was pretty much OK until about 2pm, then my lungs were getting sapped.

Lesson Learned tonight is:  when the machine says to put the soap in FIRST, we do just that.  Otherwise somebody’s husband’s shorts collects a lot of the soap powder and we have to rewash them later in the sink up in the room.

It was another full day.  I got my regular breakfast at a gas station grocery store, and as I was walking out,  I suddenly fell in love…

…with a black 1968 Olds muscle car!  Oh, it was in prime condition, and I hadn’t seen one of these beauties in years!  The guy who owned it was pretty damn proud of it, and I could understand why.  I was so sad when he drove away…

GPS Gertie was a naughty girl today.  Although she gave us some lovely back roads to drive on, she also put us in places that we were not expecting.  The first one was the Antietam cemetery when we asked for the Visitors Center.   The second was when we entered “Harper’s Ferry” into the interface and we ended up on a two-lane road between the Potomac and a steep cliff.  Harper’s Ferry laughed at us from behind the trees across the river (Potomac?  Shenandoah?  Not sure–the confluence is right there somewhere.)

Maybe it’s because we make fun of her mispronunciations.  “Limekiln”:  she pronounced it “Limmakillin”.  Smoketown was “smokatunn”.  Even the letter A was kind of more like a gag reflex.  And when she says “recalculation” (which she has to do a lot), there is always an extra “re” tacked on in front.  It sounds like “rude recalculation”.

We spent quite a good deal of time at Antietam.  So sad, what our forebears did to each other.  I felt it more here than I did at Gettysburg. 

So wonderful, that they preserved our union.

Then on to Harpers Ferry, eventually.  We had to park at the visitors center and take a bus to the town.  I wondered why–until I saw the place.  Two short streets’ worth of buildings, straight up a steep hill.  Yup, about at the end of that climb, I was done for the day.  The climb down was on stairs that were hewn into the side of the mountain over a hundred years ago.  It would have been easier going down if the iron handrails weren’t blistering hot.

But the view was spectacular up at the top, and we stopped in at the Catholic church which dominates the horizon.  Felt good to go in and pay my respects.

Kind of a long drive to Fredericksburg, via The Wilderness and Sharpsburg, neither of which we explored.  Had to get here to the hotel.  Went to a Golden Corral for dinner.  Okay stuff.

Paul and I have spent six full days in a car without killing each other, which I will take as a portent of good.

However, he is still not allowed to retire…

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