I wasn’t the only one who used McKinley High as the GPS input. Arriving at the school, a number of us saw this sandwich board telling us we were at the wrong place.
A caravan of lost souls crossed town to the expo. They say they’ve had a registration explosion this year – 7000 runners are going to toe the start line and as a result they’ve instituted an emergency remote parking lot for the race start… and are charging us all $5 to offset some of the field rental and bus costs. But that’s for tomorrow.
Today, though was the expo. It was a fairly sprawling maze given the size… lots of local vendors who I could do nothing for as a potential client given my residency in southern climates. But I did take advantage of a view photo opps… which my iPhone originally auto-corrected as “photo oops.” That works too…
Having secured my bib and sufficiently wandered, I weighed my options. There was a free admission to the Pro Football Hall of Fame in my race pack, a $25 value… or the same amount I paid to get into the NY Metropolitan Museum of Art. I figured a lot of folks might do that today and the admission would also work post run tomorrow; I figured seeing the HoF sweaty and beaten down would be a fitting tribute.
So scrolling through my trusty Roadside America bookmarks, I made it just before the 4 pm closing time of the President McKinley monument and tomb…
…but not in time to stroll through the presidential library. Fortunately, RA had a suggestion – a nearby cemetery had a tombstone I should go see. Considering my paralyzingly fear of death, the number of cemeteries I’ve visited during my running travels is kinda crazy. From the Col Sanders’ grave to Wild Bill Hicock’s to the most recent McKinley tomb, I’ve been to a number of final resting places. But this one is a bit… cheeky? Extra freaky? It’s Frankenstein’s grave… or is it FrankenSTEEN?
Not obviously Victor, it’s just somebody with that surname… and it felt very odd indeed to snap pics there. But it’s a listed entry in Roadside America … although unlike McKinley’s tomb it does NOT receive the Michelin Star equivalent rating of “worth a detour.”
Tomorrow… to counterpoint this faux modern Prometheus, a modern Pheidippides?
Come to think of it, hopefully not; there’s too much death in that equation.