New Oxford, Pa..... a Gem within a Gem

     After leaving Hanover and it's claim-to-fame potato chip outlet, Beth and I headed West on a road I can't describe because half the fun of a good cruise is getting totally lost.  Not far down the way Beth exclaimed, "Did you see those cars?"
     No.  I was probably busy answering a text message or something, so I whipped the wheel around to cut

through a used car lot where I assumed I could turn around without getting anyone's hopes up that they might be doing a bit of business after all.  I was wrong.  There was a neon 'OPEN' sign glowing in the window and some guy instantly stood up to smile and straighten his tie.  I buzzed past him without a thought.

     I careened a block back toward whence we came (Thank God!  I finally got to use the word 'whence!') and we ended up in Roy's Import Repair, a fine country establishment located in a God-fearing part of Amish country; closed, as was appropriate on a Sunday; the perfect place to take a piss before shooting some pictures.

    Now, I know nothing about antique cars, a fact I'll happily admit because doing otherwise is like striking up a conversation about sports, which I'm even less enlightened on. Actually, I'm ignorant to anything considered masculine by hick standards.

Some old car

    You might sneer at my view of such things at this point.  I don't care.  It's a freaking car, and drooling over cars, at least to me, is like drooling over old issues of Hustler Magazine.
     These cars, however, were somehow no different than any other old cars I'd ever seen.  The only thing I liked about them was the fact the prices didn't seem ridiculously indulgent, based on emotional value versus actual Kelly Blue Book, which was probably in the neighborhood of $1.96.
     Since I'd used the owner's lot as a toilet, I felt it only good and proper to show the other pictures I'd shot while pretending to be a potential buyer.  These are those cars.
The first is a Ford Fairlane, named after the Andrew Dice Clay's terrible movie 'Ford Fairlane. (See how that works out?)

The second is a restored Baltimore Police car.  Yeah, like anyone would buy that and drive it around.  I mean, weriously!  How many happy memories would that pile of junk strike up for anyone?!
     I guess this ends my New Oxford trip down memory lane soince I can't relate to any of it.
     And frankly?  New oxford is just a bunch of over-priced antique shops, a tourist trap with no more appeal than a ramora stuck to the bottom of a much cooler fish.
      But that's cruising for ya. A trip down Memory Lane can sometimes be no more than a toilet stop for the next guy.

Gettysburg, a town I need to address

A Battlefield in Gettysburg

I really like Gettysburg, Pennsylvania as a small town. It's steeped in history and only 45 minutes from our house, so it automatically rates as a must-see stop when we have occasional guests. As for cruising?  It rates a lot higher.
   Scenery like the picture I snapped to the right is common in the battlefields. In ten minutes I could shoot enough beautiful images to create 100 Christmas cards.

  

Memorial along the road
somewhere

     Then there's the history.  Did you know more Americans died in the Civil War than all other wars combined? And that's just the Americans who died.  (Admittedly, I have no idea how many of the soldiers we were fighting died. I'm still doing my research.)
          As we drove through the battlefields we saw many, many, many of headstones exactly like this one, only different.  The name of the soldier this particular stone  memorializes was named Massachusetts, and he fought in the First Regiment.  The same regiment had guys named New Jersey, Connecticut, and even Ohio.  It's easy to see these states got their names by being named after soldiers who had fallen while defending our great American institutions such as Social Security and Nasa.
     History is so worth studying!

Old building where Lincoln  had the
Gettysburg Address tattooed on his
palm in case he forgot some of it.

       One of the more important facets of modern day Gettysburg is how the architecture has been meticulously preserved.  From the street, we couldn't see one single air conditioning unit and we agreed we would never stay there in the summer.

     Note also how perfect the roof lines have been maintained.  It would be easy to imagine renting a room on the top floor back in 1863, heading off to war each morning, and then coming home each night with an armload of groceries, or perhaps stopping in to say hi to the proprietor at Battlefield Tattoos (L).

    

WTF?!

     But my favorite stop on this adventure had to be the shop located at the only available parking place we could find after an hour of driving.  I swear, Gettysburg has exactly 32 parking spots in the main shopping district.  The only other option is off-street parking where some really questionable looking thugs were killing time looking into people's cars.

     I won't disrespect the shop's privacy by publishing their name here, but the signage in the image should clue most anyone except women to be able to easily find it.

     Those objects along the sidewalk might look like tumors, but they're actually bird houses made from brightly painted gourds.  In other words, a can of spray paint, a 1" drill bit, and you too can be an arts and crafts wiz! 

     And at $75 a pop?
     Hey!  I'll bet  you're glad you came along on this cruise, eh?  Now, go tell your boss you've had enough of his bullshit, quit your job, and get cracking!  The market for gourd birdhouses has never been hotter and someday you'll be bragging you got in on the ground floor!

Google sent this image to me as an award,
"Best New Blog"

Utz Potato Chip Factory, Hanover, Pennsylvania

The STU Factory, Hanover Pa.

We shot up Rt. 26 to Hanover, Md., home to 15,000 people, dozens of awesome Victorian houses, and Utz Potato Chips.  We spotted the old fabricated steel sign as we approached and I beamed with anticipation. You can see it from behind in my photo where it looks more like we visited the "STU" factory.)
     A steel sign.
   When a factory has a steel sign like that one it suggests age.  With age comes experience.  With experience comes expertise!  
      I knew any chips purchased in the area would be perfect, golden, crisp and delicious. Honestly, I had tears in my eyes, something only another potato chip junkie could possibly understand. Allow me to better explain.
     We are a simple people, we chip junkies.  Our passion usually begins with that first chip we consume at a young age.  In my case it started while growing up in a somewhat low-income home. Once a month, my Mother would bring home a box of Utz chips, a big box.  That was out treat for not burning down the house while my Mom worked at her miserable job. I remember the box cost 47 cents in 1968, and my greatest thrill was being allowed to open the box and eat the first two or three perfect chips off the top.
     I was in heaven.  The aroma of fresh chips is still one of favorite food scents and I made my selection with the skill of a Jamaican Jenga hustler.  Even the salt tasted somehow exotic, different than any other salt found in my entire 8 years of life. 
     I vowed to one day find where Utz purchased this special salt, but never have.
     As I grew older, my addiction grew worse.  I discovered how a common bologna sandwich could be transformed into crunchy fine dining by adding a handful of chips, a practice labeled disgusting by many of my schoolmates, but I didn't care.  I was well past being a recreational potato chip eater and had moved into daily experimentation.
     I even scooped ice cream now and then, but never when I felt I might be caught.
     In my teen years it grew worse for I'd unknowingly begun a quest.  I felt an actual thrill whenever I'd spot a new brand or flavor and, God help me, I tried all of them to get that original thrill. Dill, hot, taco, corn, chili, sea salt & vinegar, Old Bay, BBQ.... it didn't matter.  My habit was insatiable. 

Utz Potato Chip variations

     Yes, of course there were disappointments on my journey. As I grew older, I traveled and discovered what I consider exotics making my habit worse.  For example, there's Wise Potato Chips in nearby Baltimore.  People  from Baltimore actually  love Wise Chips, but I can't understand why.  Their trademark seems to be burning their chips, a practice I'll never understand.     
     Many people reading this won't understand, but many will.  To the latter, I can only offer a knowing nod.  You are not alone, my brothers and sisters.
     So, there we were, driving past a factory comparable -at leat to me- to Willie Wonka's mythical operation. I half expected to see Oompa Loompas hanging out on their loading dock, but saw none.  What I did see was a sign reading 'Outlet Store.'
     You have no idea how this hit me. I stomped the gas, made several illegal driving maneuvers, and swung into the parking lot.  This would be great!  This would be Shangri La!  If those first perfect chips had impressed, how could wonderful would the chips be coming right off the line? Additionally, there would be no middlemen jacking up the prices, so I expected them to be dirt cheap.
     Actually, I was kind of disappointed.  There were about half a dozen sample bins with plastic tongs to try out fairly common varieties. I ate a one sample and found it lacking.  I watched a guy using the tongs to fill his pockets with peanut butter-filled pretzels before slinking out the door, the cheap bastard.  That was it for the free stuff.
      The prices were hardly what I'd call thrilling, perhaps a dime off the small bags with proportionate discounts on the larger items.
      And there were no experimental flavors to be found. Not one!  One would think there might be several new varieties, perhaps Onion 'n' Gator, or Honey Taco.  I'd hoped to see their chemists standing around in white coats documenting reactions on clipboards.  Something....anything!
     We bought a couple items just to show our support for an American institution, but it was just a gesture.  I wanted Disney World and all I got was a bag of Zappo's Spicy Cajun Crawtater's.  We paid what I felt was retail.
     Honestly?  It was okay, not the thrill I'd hoped for, but that's to be expected on a cruise.  You drive around.  You shoot some pics of old farms, browse through an occasional junk shop, and stumble across towns you've never heard of.  You get hungry.  You stop somewhere to grab a bag of chips to hold you over 'til dinner, and enjoy the scenery.
      Maybe one of these days we'll wise up and hit Baltimore.

Ground Zero
     ...is an old railroad town called Brunswick, Maryland.  This is the little 1800's railroad town we call home.  It's a good starting point for each post, as good as any.  Brunswick was once the largest train manufacturing town in America. In 1959 the railroad manufacturing moved up the line to Martinsburg, West Virginia and Brunswick kind of fell apart.  I'll get back to that later.
     The idea here is to create an abbreviated road trip to various destinations in our immediate area, something like a ground-level view from Google Earth, but more personalized so that you, the reader, will feel like you were there.
     Pictures?  Of course!
     Interviews? When possible. (We have some really weird people around here.)
     This project may take years to create and a short time to consume.  Thanks for joining us!

     Chuck Sanders
     February 8th, 2014
     Brunswick, Md.

Potomac Avenue

(Brunswick's 'main street')

Brunswick has a few pretty cool places to eat and some great antique shops.  It also has one

 of the greatest railroad museums you'll ever see and is located right off the C&O Canal!