Greetings campers and underwater treasure hunters
We came. We splashed. We went home. Sorry, my fault. First time ever I actually remembered to bring a hat to keep the sun off my little head. I won't do THAT again. Always believed the sunny days at T-town were aberrations.
Didn't have time or energy for the full WV - Copake - T-town - WV loop this year, but was "smart" enough to hit the road to T-town Friday night before the road out went underwater. But then had to kill time Saturday until the water went down enough to get back home. Not the wiseest travel strategy, but perhaps better than sitting at home actually watching my firewood pile migrate downstream. I certainly felt better than the poor fools out on motorcycles. Wondered for a moment what kind of flaming goof would be out in this stuff, then remembered and stopped looking in the mirrors. But at least for a while felt a bit smug and snug inside my little mobile cocoon after a reasonably fun day with the kooks, at least partially dry and warm, slowly regaining the feeling and use of my fingers, with tunes in the box and a selection of toxic snacks within easy reach. AHHhhhhh.
Brought home a pathetic little pile of mostly useless loot. Several of us amused ourselves by pondering alternative entrepreneurial opportunities for our vacant booth spaces, perhaps selling anti-depressant drugs and plastic garbage bag "raincoats" rather than bike parts, but we were unwilling to part with those precious items either. One vendor had a wet-suit / dry-suit for sale. Seemed appropriate.
And worth the price of admission to witness somebody else's mental flip flops during the informal CR discussions of recent and planned acquisitions & thinnings. Upon being offered a frame known to be of potential interest to a certain individual, the rational side of his brain responded immediately with an emphatic rant along the lines of NO, NO, have too many already, don't want it, don't need it, don't have room for it, don't have money for it, don't have time for it, NO NO NO!. An impressive display of self restraint, followed microseconds later by the CR side of his brain regaining control and asking "What size is it?" You could almost hear the gears stripping in that head.
But no reason to hang around to the bitter end. Bailed out early, safer to drive in daylight, and other missions to run along the way home. Used book stores awaited. Struck out there too. Something wrong with that side of MY brain these days. That can't be good.
Hey, it could have been worse. (Yes, I know, this current wave of uncharacteristic positive perspective is really starting to confuse people, never quite certain if I've finally flipped out, doing drugs, or am just exploring new levels of sarcasm. I'm not gonna confirm or deny anything.). However, first time I made this pilgrimage, T-town and much of the east coast was flooding, so the swap was officially cancelled. People just opened their trunks and vans in the parking lot and swapped anyway. Eventually the State Police were called in to run everybody out of the area. Impromptu swaps sprang up in covered gas stations and car wash bays along the roads out of town. Didn't know anybody then, but knew I had found my tribe. So anything less than a total cancellation, and stern but polite confrontation with the uniformed representatives of civil authority "could have been worse".
No new toys to play with. No new / used books or tunes. But the kooks are always worth spending a day with. Oh well, time to retrieve my firewood, before it goes over the dam.
See ya at the Cirque Larry "better living through self-delusion" Osborn Lake Bruceton Mills, WV