As you know if you caught yesterday’s post — and of course shame on you if you didn’t; you can do so by clicking here — today is the second installment of pics I snapped with my iPhone during July’s motorcycle adventure to Mount Rushmore.
Yes, it is sort of a lazy man’s way of coming up with fodder for a couple days’ worth of posts, but hey, cut me a bit of slack; I’m on vacation again this week, doing nothing in particular, and whereas a lot of bloggers might abandon their readers entirely while on holiday, that’s not how we roll here at Any Given Lundy.
We provide, at the mere cost of whatever Internet connection you want to pay for, a new post 365 days a year. I guess I like to think of myself as the Lou Gehrig of blogging, or at least the Everyday Eddie Guardado, for those of you familiar with semi-obscure former major league closers.
Anyway, here we go on today’s photo gallery:
This lake is on the road up to Mount Rushmore, just a couple miles shy of it. It has a name, but I don't remember what it is. Former Corvallis Gazette-Times publisher Brenda Speth says she has jumped off that cliff, and I've no reason to doubt her.
Just before the entrance to Rushmore. There were bighorn sheep on the cliff across the road from this parking area.
And, unless you're not so up on your American landmarks, you know what you are looking at here.
Last Stand Hill at Little Big Horn, Mont. The grave markers include one, center, shaded black, for Gen. Custer.
Rode through my hometown of Milwaukie, Ore., on my way back to the valley and stopped by my elementary school. Sorry about the harsh light, but you get the idea. Not sure how old the building is,but it looks much the same is it did when I started there in 1968.
The Riverside playground, where I spent approximately 50 percent of my time from age 5 to 17. Last time I actually played there was about 1995. My older brother Craig was pitching to me, really pitching, as in throwing hard, and I took him deep with a blast to right-center off the school gym. A few pitches later, Craig buried a heater in my shoulder, which was a bit disconcerting since I wasn't wearing a helmet of any kind. Oh well, he did miss my temple by a good 6 inches anyway.
My childhood home on Mulberry Drive. It was brown when we lived there, no star on the wall, and the driveway and walkway were lined with ball-eating juniper bushes, one of the plant world's true scourges. My parents bought it for $29,500 in 1964, and my mom sold it maybe seven years ago. The purchaser was one of my Rex Putnam High schoolmates.
