Just a ride before I go

May 12, 2024

To whom it may concern

CONTINUING THE STORY that began in the previous post, I did indeed go for a ride with Wil after we discussed the travel plan over a cup of coffee. He asked if I had any particular destination or route in mind; I said no. "Flat or with elevation?" was his next question. "Your choice" I replied, perhaps a bit unwisely.

It was, for the most part, flat to gently rolling by Frederick County standards at least, but there was that 0.4 mile stretch that reached 15 or 16 percent at the maximum, at least according to the Garmin.

I could have done without that nasty hill around mile 11 but other than that it was a wonderful route.

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Noe Hernandez FloresI did try to avoid the bigger hills. Frankly, Frederick has bigger monsters than that.
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2 weeks ago

Keith AdamsTo Noe Hernandez FloresYep, I know.
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2 weeks ago

One reason he chose that particular loop- apart from it being one of his favorites- was a roadside curiosity he wanted me to see.

Not very many farms around here have a decommissioned private jet on display in their front yard. Come to think of it, I don't know of *any* others.

Before we got to the plane, we'd stopped at Mt. Olivet Cemetery on the edge of the historic part of Frederick. It's a large, historic, non-denominational burial ground commissioned and organized by the congregations of several local churches as they began to struggle with the size limitations of their own small graveyards.

The most notable marker is that of Francis Scott Key (author of "The Star Spangled Banner", which he penned after watching the bombardment by British forces of Ft. McHenry during the War of 1812), whose remains have been reinterred here after being moved at least twice before.

Maybe this one will be his actual *final* resting place.

That makes at least three well-known authors to be buried within the limits of my more-or-less regular orbit: Key is here in Frederick, Edgar Allan Poe is in Baltimore (for many years an unknown person left a rose and bottle of brandy on his grave on the anniversary of his death; the person finally allowed himself to be identified after several decades of anonymity and mystery), and none other than F. Scott Fitzgerald is buried right here in Rockville.

We quickly found ourselves out in the countryside, enjoying the views and landscapes that make this area so pleasant.

Also in Buckeystown, a former gas station, repurposed as a pop-up center for the arts. In fact it's diagonally opposite the building in the previous photo.

And across the street from them both, a funky expression of individuality.

I suspect this building was previously a mill; after all, it's sited right next to the Monocacy River, on Michael's Mill Road.

As we rode, Wil impressed me with the level of knowledge he has of his surroundings. He's lived in Frederick for two decades now, and keeps track of who owns what and how those trends are changing. In one area he remarked that he's been seeing a transition from the original (white) inhabitants to Hispanics. Being from El Salvador himself, that's of particular interest to him.

At several other points, where we passed new or newish homes and developments, we each remarked that (a) we preferred the time when the land was cornfields and woods, rather than ever-increasing sprawl, and (b) it's likely that in the next two decades all of what we were enjoying as we rode will be gone forever, replaced by housing subdivisions, strip malls or giant shopping areas anchored with big box stores and featuring hundred-acre parking lots rather than Hundred Acre Wood.

One of the older homes in tiny Adamstown. What was once a hamlet of a couple dozen scattered houses and a two-building "commercial district" has sprouted hundreds and hundreds of newly-placed homes in the last 15 or 20 years.

A "generational home" on an obviously prosperous farm. Generational homes start with a relatively small structure and are added onto over time, as succeeding generations come along and need space.

Trouble brewing on the horizon: agriculture doesn't require cranes like that, but real estate development does. Wil said that someone had visions of siting a data center in the area. Uh oh.

A roadside oddity, alongside a giant metal squirrel.

Panoramic view of the Catoctin Mountains just to the west of town. The Catoctins are the easternmost expression of the Blue Ridge, in this area.

More troubling signs of sprawl: a sea of new rooftops.

Along the main street in Historic Frederick.

Back in historic Frederick, Wil led me to a few of the many murals to be enjoyed.

All in all it was a fine and pleasant ride, made even more enjoyable by the company of my friend and the memories we share.

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