Learning From 2020

And Planning for 2021! 

    W'ere trying to think of something nice to say about 2020.

    Okay, here goes: Nobody got killed by the murder hornets. 

                As far as we know.                    

    Dave Barry

 

As for me, 2020 offered one stellar event; a first grandchild! 

But, my year in travel? Almost a complete washout.

So I sit with sleeves rolled up awaiting the vaccine as soon as those more deserving than me get theirs. And then, hopefully, I will be able to rejoin the world.

Since March I've been so impressed by the travel industry. All four of my 2020 AirBNB hosts (despite three bookings with "Strict" cancellations), graciously allowed me to postpone my bookings into 2021). Likewise nearly all airlines offered vouchers and/or refunds. 

Only one hotel the "Oriente Palace Apartments" in Madrid (booked through "Hotels.Com") refused repeated requests for a postponement and enforced full "no-show" charges for nights I could not travel to Spain. Then, adding insult to injury, Hotels.com awarded me free night credits for the paid, but unused nights, only to subsequently take them back. This former lifelong Hotels.com / Expedia customer will simply use up my accumulated free nights and move on.

 

So here's what I learned from 2020

• Travel is a privilege that I'd sorely taken for granted.

• The travel industry stepped up; adjusting cancellation dates, relaxing change fees, offering vouchers etc.

• Airline and hotel employees are just flipping amazing. If you have doubts click the video link from (one of Roadboy's favorite hotel chain's) Spain's RoomMate Hotels.

• Despite many positive benefits, travel insurance clearly excludes losses due to pandemics.

• In many instances it is actually better to pay a few bucks a night extra for reservations I can cancel.

• If your remain patient, courteous and persistent most travel companies will try hard to please you.     

And what are my considerations for future travel?

• I'll be looking for opportunities that support a healthy world and highlight local foods and culture. I'll be avoiding packaged tourist "experiences".

• I will attempt to travel to countries that need my travel dollars.

• I will avoid nations that ignore human rights and are led by morally corrupt psycho's: China, Hungary, Iran, Isreal, the Philippines, Qatar, Russia, Saudi Arabia and Turkey all immediately spring to mind.

• I will try to reduce my carbon footprint riding a bike and using public transport wherever I can.

 • I'm deferring the purchase of stuff, opting instead to spend more on travel. An "I'll go there someday", attitude assures that you'll grow too old to travel before you realize that you missed out on the whole world.

Roadboy's Travels © 2020

Once Again Public Art To The Rescue!

Save The Whales (Tail)

After my last post profiling a transportation disaster that was sad beyond belief, upon seeing this article by Adam Taylor in the Washington Post this morning I just had to pass it on. 

A runaway commuter train in the Netherlands (Rotterdam Metro) today blasted through various safety barriers and landed on the firm(?) grasp of the public art installed beyond the end of the tracks.

I'll wager the cost of the art was probably disputed as wasteful during construction (it always is), but once again art saved the day. In a rather amazing bit of irony, the title of the plastic art piece (even before the wreck) was "Saved by the Whales Tail".

Only the driver was on the train and he's ok.

Da Akkers Metro Station - Spjkenisse Netherlands 

Photo: Robin Utrecht / AFP / Getty Images Washington Post)

I certainly hope they install a replica of that train car resting on that tail forever. 

Roadboy's Travels © 2020

The 1956 Grand Canyon Air Disaster

The Crash That Resulted in The Establishment of The FAA

Last weekend I traveled to Flagstaff for a very happy event; a lovely wedding. While there I became aware of a bit of Flagstaff history residing in the City's Citizen's Cemetery.

On June 30, 1956 two state-of-the-art commercial aircraft departed Los Angeles International Airport within just a few minutes of each other. Their final 90 minute flights would end in an explosive midair crash over the Grand Canyon. Everyone on board both aircraft would perish in what would be American aviation's worst disaster to date and the first crash to claim more than 100 lives. 

Interest piqued, I made a stop to the mass grave to pay respects to the victims of this terrible national tragedy that took place a month after I was born in 1956.

Here is the story:

TWA Flight 2 

TWA Flight Number 2 was destined for Kansas City Downtown Airport in one of TWA's fast and comfortable Lockheed L-1049 Super Constellations. This one christened "The Star of the Seine". 

Super Constellation's had a sleek curved profile and a distinctive low profile three-part tail that allowed the plane to more easily fit in the hangars of many airlines. The TWA flight carried 64 passengers (11 of whom were off duty TWA employees) plus 6 crew members. This aircraft holds additional meaning to me as my first flight at the age of five originated in Oakland on a Super Constellation operated by PSA.  

 

United Flight 718

United Flight 718 was destined for Chicago Midway in a fast new Douglas DC-7 christened "The Mainliner Vancouver". Flight 718 carried 53 passengers and 5 crew members. The DC-7 was a slightly faster aircraft with propellers painted a distinctive red, white and blue to blend while in rotation. 

Both aircraft were built in California in Long Beach and Santa Monica and deemed completely airworthy. 

Both flights took off a few minutes late. The United flight initially flew towards Palm Springs and then turned towards the Grand Canyon. The TWA flight initially flew towards Daggett (Barstow) and then turned towards the Grand Canyon flying at an altitude of 19,000 feet. Seeing weather a radio call was made to climb to 21,000 feet. 

The Grand Canyon was "uncontrolled airspace". In uncontrolled airspace pilots were responsible to "See and Avoid". 

In an era when the US was busy building a vast new interstate highway system, the need for a modern air traffic control system had gone largely ignored. But as the number and nature of midair collisions and near misses kept increasing the public became stunned by stories of America's crude air traffic control systems. Every crash resulted in newspaper and glossy magazine human interest stories profiling lives lost. And, since commercial air travel was largely the domain of captains of industry and the upper middle class, seemingly every crash resulted in fatalities of noteworthy Americans. On the TWA flight an entire family of four from Kansas City perished returning from a visit to Walt Disney's newly opened Disneyland.  Public confidence in air travel (which had been steadily increasing in the 1950's) started to decline resulting in calls for change. 

The weakness in coordinated air traffic control was because American airspace in 1956 was split between the military and the Civil Aeronautics Administration. This resulted in numerous near-misses and collisions between commercial and military aircraft. Flight tracking in 1956 was largely conducted via a loose network of radio monitoring points who in turn took radio calls and relayed requested changes in flight plans regarding altitude / speed  information to various flight centers.

In this case the TWA request to increase altitude to fly around thunderheads put both aircraft were on course to collide over the Grand Canyon. The crash left both aircraft in remote sites in the canyon making initial rescue and the subsequent crash investigation difficult. 

CAB Crash investigators eventually surmised the DC-7 saw the TWA plane and turn to avoid it. Its elevated wing hit the tail of the L-1049. With the loss of an engine and portion of its wing the DC-7 lost control. Correspondingly, without its tail section the TWA experienced an explosive decompression and dropped form the sky.

As details of the crash unfolded the the crude methods used to track and communicate with aircraft became clear and calls were made to establish a unified national air traffic control and monitoring agency. For the first time one agency would combine flight information of both military and commercial aircraft. After 2 years of contentious hearings, the FAA Federal Aviation Agency (renamed in 1966 as the Federal Aviation Administration) was formed together with a commitment to establish a comprehensive network of radar to track aircraft flying in American airspace. 

29 of the United airline victims were interred at the Grand Canyon Pioneer Cemetery. 66 of the TWA airline victims were interred at the Citizens Cemetery in flagstaff (now completely encircled  by the campus of Northern Arizona University).

 

 

After 64 years, memories tend to fade. Yet, this disaster is important to understand. It served as the defining catalyst in developing a modern American air traffic control system, our national network of radar and the FAA. 

Roadboy's Travels © 2020

 

The Tuna Boat Goes to the Old Car Spa

My 1961 Bullet Bird

This is a second repost. I initially posted it in 2011 to celebrate her first full 50 years. Then again in 2013 after she got a major suspension overhaul.

 

Well here we are in 2021 and my bird has completing over a year of restoration efforts by Darrin Dottling at Phoenix's Vintage Ford Connection. Darrin and his dad Jim have looked after her for the past 25 years.
 

This time around the bumpers came off along with all the chrome and the body was stripped down to metal. It was repainted from its original beige to a azure blue. The engine was removed. The massive bumpers and all brightwork was straightened and re-chromed. Turned out the engine block was cracked so a new block had to be found and was completely rebuilt. It is fitted with a slick new modern carburetor.

Even the steering wheel was removed and is being reglossed back to original. 

All of this attention should allow my now 60 year old Bullet Bird to energetically begin her  next 50 years.

Now here's her story......

When I first saw her I knew she was something special; low to the ground and uber curvy. She was the color of desert sand. I had to look to find the door handles (they were sculpted right into the door). This car was just plain bodacious.

To a 16 year old boy, in an era of boxy 70's era mustangs, it was love at first sight.

The Thunderbird was already 11 years old and had a little over 34,000 miles and was in darned good shape except for missing a back seat. 

When I asked about the seat the little old lady selling it told me she raised show dogs and had the back seat removed (and filled with plywood to better accommodate the cages she used for transporting them). I had visions of the back seat resting in perfect shape covered up in her garage. 

Nope, she had thrown it out.

My 1961 Thunderbird

(From the Era of Sputnik)

When I asked about the missing jack she wistfully said "Oh, I have triple AAA, I don't need a jack!"

There's some logic in there somewhere.

When I asked where I might find a back seat to replace the one she threw away, she rolled her eyes to let me know I was really starting to annoy her. She just said "these are sports cars, they get wrecked every day, go to a junk yard!"

It also needed tires. I also knew full well that (powered by Ford's legendary 390 V8 with a 4 barrel carb) it would pass anything on the road except a gas station. But, back then gas was 34¢ a gallon, came with a free box of dishwasher detergent, and a complimentary car wash.

I took it.

Ahhhh! Fins and Chrome

First stop was a junk yard and I'll be damned if the first T-Bird I came to had a back seat in the right color and the jack. It was pure joss.

The Famous Back Seat

While most of my travels today are by plane, in those days Roadboy's ticket to freedom was this very car. I drove it to high school every day. I drove it to Lake Tahoe about once a month. I drove it camping in the Redwoods. I drove it to Death Valley.

This is the car that moved me to Coeur d'Alene, Idaho and then saw me through all of my college years in Moscow. In fact it was at college where my friend Darryl christened her the "Tuna Boat". The title stuck.

I spent the stupidest night of my life in it, driving drunk. That was the same night I rolled it right over a couple of those fold-up signs with flashers. Never saw em. But I dragged them until she sounded like a North Idaho logging truck. Yep those signs had ripped off both mufflers.

We made quite an impression on all the diners at the Country Kitchen that night.

I was lucky. No one got hurt and the noise my car now made affirmed one of the most important lessons of my life. Never mix alcohol with driving. Ever. Period.

The Very First Swing-A-Way Steering Wheel

When I graduated from college, the Tuna Boat drove me to Seattle (right through the fallout from the eruption of Mount Saint Helens - there is still that grey ash under every panel).

The Invisible Door Handles

But when I moved to Alaska the Thunderbird went off to live with mom and dad back in Idaho. Dad took good care of her and after my five years in Alaska I picked her back up in Seattle.

Amazingly, after a few minor fixes it drove like a champ all the way back to where it started - California. Over the next decade I finally had to have it painted and was only able to drive it once in awhile.

When we moved to Arizona in 1994, the tuna boat carried me, my 4 year old son Bryan and our huge golden retriever Charlie. My son sat in the passenger seat with Charlie carefully straddling the space between our seats looking out the big windshield and panting the whole way. Charlie was a big gentle soul with an epic case of doggie halitosis.

In Arizona the car had a proverbial melt down one day losing all of its ability to cool itself and, me being cash strapped, I had to leave it parked for about three years. (Update: thats probably when I cracked the block). Then I met the god of Big Birds and old Falcons, Jim Dottling. Jim took my car for about a month into his Thunderbird Connection shop in Sunnyslope. There in his old car spa he methodically brought her back to life. Over the years he rebuilt the transmission, replaced all of the rubber parts, added an AC unit, new upholstery, new dash, and a modern sound system. While Jim has since retired, his son Darrin now runs the T-Bird Connection and provides the same thoughtful TLC.  

In many ways she looked better after Jim's care than when I was in high school.

So, except for one night when I played jackass, the Bird safely carried me and my loved ones, friends, and canine buddies for 46 of its 60 years.

Now when I drive I get lots of honks, big smiles, and a whole bunch of thumbs up. Mostly from old guys without teeth driving old beaters.

My son used to always duck down and hide.

Best $700 I ever spent.

 

                              Here's a 2021 `Progress Shot of the New Blue Livery                                                                                                                                                                                                   

And Here's the Finished Product!    

 

                                                   

Roadboy's Travels © 2011, 2013, 2021

A Promise Kept - Fox Rent A Car

Giving Credit When it is Due

Road Warriors are fiercely loyal to travel companies. Treat us well and we return over and over. We track of our points and fantasize about where our points will take us. We hit lifetime milestones one by one: million miler, two million miler, lifetime titanium elite, lifetime platinum, lifetime diamond.

The road to forgiveness for companies that burn road warriors will be bumpy.  

One sector where my loyalty waned is rental cars. As familiar companies were devoured by bigger companies they all sort of lost their soul. And, after repeated disastrous customer service experiences (i.e. agonizingly hours long checkout lines in DC, Denver and Chicago etc.) I rigorously avoided two discounters: Fox and Advantage.

 

I quickly say adios to any car rental company that subjects me to a long line to reach a customer service rep intent selling me stuff I don't want. I opt for companies that get me in a car and on the road fast. SilverCar by Audi is the best at that hands down. 

A few years back I realized it was even faster to bag rental car lines altogether and use ride shares. And my use of rental cars plummeted.

But a recent trip to San Diego required me to rent a car. The trip was for marketing so I was trying to keep costs low. I had some time on my hands and Fox offered a blindingly low price. Against my better judgement I decided to give the deep discounter another try.

I arrived expecting the worst. But, the Fox check-out time was perfectly decent. The car was clean and the check-in at return in was fast and efficient. 

I figured it might be a fluke, but vowed to try them again.

So last week I reserved a car from Fox at SeaTac. But, when I arrived the Fox counter was closed. OK I thought "here we go again". A note informed customers that staff tested positive for Covid. There were instructions to rent a competitors car and submit an "Off Sell" form to claim the difference in price.

My Fox rate was only $19.95 / day for a small SUV, so no one was willing to come close to matching it. But, after some horse trading, I got a car at Dollar for a bit more than twice the Fox price. 

When I returned home I filed Fox's paperwork but my cynical side was screaming "you'll never see that refund".

Two days later a confirming e-mail notified me my claim was received and being processed. 10 days after that I received a check for the full amount.

Bravo Fox! 

Sometimes a company deserves a second chance. So, Fox if you can keep lines reasonable (better yet, institute a touch-free express check-out), keep your staff healthy and keep prices competitive, you will see more of this road warrior.

 

Roadboy's Travels © 2020  

Roadboy's Long Summer Weekend in Seattle

The Emerald City - Post Riot + Pandemic

"You're life will always include Seattle" 

anonymous psychic - 1981

 

In 1962 my father decided we needed to make a family visit to the Century 21 Worlds Fair in Seattle. At the time I was 6 years old. I made the whole trip looking backward from the "way way back" seat of a red '58 Plymouth Suburban station wagon festooned with epic tail fins. Although pretty, the Plymouth was a complete piece of crap (we were fortunate in making it up and back without any severe mechanical breakdown.)  

 

 

 A '58 Plymouth Suburban

Our time at the fair and the city of Seattle made a hell of an impression on me. Here was a city that built airplanes, America's first urban monorail, a Space Needle all surrounded by stunning views in any direction. 

 

The Century 21 World's Exposition

After the fair I vowed to return to live in Seattle and become an architect.  

Over the next two decades I accomplished both. After graduating from the University of Idaho I rented my first apartment (a funky attic loft in a 1920's era house - now lost to condos) on the South Slope of Queen Anne Hill (before Queen Anne became too expensive for mere mortals).

In Seattle I met new friends. I fell in love. I began a professional career. I hiked in the Cascades and chased rabbits on Orcas Island. And, on May 18, 1980 I got buried in ash from Mt. St. Helen's.

But soon I was enticed to begin a new chapter in my life in Alaska. But that's another story. 

The anxiety associated with the decision to leave Seattle actually resulted in me developing an ulcer. And finalizing my decision was, in part, the result of a chance encounter with a psychic who literally knocked on my door doing product research.

After our session (determining my pill size preferences for a famous cold remedy), she quietly said that I seemed troubled. Hearing her say that left me pretty gobsmacked and I admitted I was. I explained I was trying to decide if I wanted accept a job in Alaska when I really was not sure I wanted to leave Seattle. 

She closed her eyes and when she eventually spoke she told me that I would miss out on some of the best parts of my life if I stayed in Seattle. She went on to assure me that Seattle "would always remain a part of my life". And she was so right. Despite leaving I have returned to work on projects continuously nearly every year for three decades planning dozens of new civic buildings all over the Puget Sound.

 

But this trip was simply for fun. 

 

And, I was lucky enough to be traveling with a friend that had never visited Seattle before. I love showing off favorite places to people that have never been there. Yet, visiting Seattle in its post riot and injured state, left me with some heartache. 

We tried to look past that. We visited my favorite quirky places and took in its crystalline blue skies, endless views, wonderful food and mild temperatures.

Here's Roadboy's long post riot, pandemic weekend in the Emerald City.

 

Day One (Thursday): Normally I travel from the airport to downtown via light rail. The rail line runs from the Airport to downtown via the Rainier Valley and the International District. It now continues on to the University (or as locals call it "The U"). Seattle light rail tickets allow transfers to its city buses and electric trolleys, so it is easy to get almost anywhere.

This trip, with a global pandemic raging, I instead opted for a rental car and our first stop was SeaTac's newish consolidated car rental facility. There we found our car rental company closed (staff tested positive for Covid).

So we punted to a different car rental company and made our way to check in to our AirBNB. "Ole Dan's" AirBNB was on a quiet, woodsy street on the Northwest slope of Queen Anne Hill. It was part of a comfy family home and came complete with urban chickens in the yard and a shady street with free parking.    

We dropped bags and my nature loving traveling companion and I set out for a scenic drive to the North tip of Whidbey Island and Deception Pass. Here, we crossed over the pair of Depression era bridges that link the Island to the mainland. And, from the middle of the bridge, we could watch seals below in the narrow pass intercepting dinner.

   Glorious Depression Era Steel Below the Span at Deception Pass 

After the drive it was off to see the Fremont Troll, drink some local beer and eat some hearty pub food.  

 

Day Two (Friday): The weather forecast included a little rain, so we opted for a trip to a favorite Gallery (Stonington in Pioneer Square), the Pike Place Market and dinner on Lake Union. 

The Market was pretty nice to visit without the usual summer mobs. Sadly, there were no Flying Fish, but there were halibut cheeks (Yum!) for sale.

Friday at the Market

While at Pike Place we ate some amazing crumpets, perused some of the specialty shops (I even found some replacement Fiestaware® I needed), watched the big cheese making machines in action and bought some sour cherry preserves from Chukar Cherries. 

We also descended below the market to Post Alley and the infamous "wall of gum". The gum wall fills a little  tunnel with a peppermint smelling oddity that is unique to Seattle. 

The Post Alley Gum Walls

Perhaps Seattle's quirkiest (and likely germiest) attraction, the Post Alley gum wall began when patrons to the Market Theater started depositing gum with coins pressed in for good luck on the alley walls. It collected until 2015 when it had to be removed for some sort of repairs. The harvest netted over 2,000 lbs of gum. Today, there is another 5 years of accumulated gum. 

 

Best not to ask "Why?" 

 

Some things simply defy answers.

Ms. C. at the Wall-O-Gum

 

 

 Pandemic Statement

 

The alley is also a great place for street art as well with this paste up pretty much summing up my feelings about 2020.

Deal With This

From the Market we made a stop back to our apartment and then set off to meet friends for alder smoked salmon on Lake Union at Ivar Haglund's venerable Salmon House. This trip seating inside was limited to immediate family members, so we sat on Ivar's dock and watched the aquatic parade moving between Lake Union and Portage Bay. Although its location and views can't be beat The Salmon House seems to have lots its soul a bit over the years. It's focus now includes ribs (?) and now just feels off. Nothing lasts forever I guess.

I did confirm that the neighbor's vintage travel trailer bird houses (which I love) still fly high at the office next door.

Trailers for Migratory Avian Tenants

 

 

Day Three (Saturday): Today seemed like a perfect day to venture up to Capital Hill to visit Elliott Bay Books. When I lived in Seattle Capital Hill was the epicenter of Seattle's gay life. It had lots of nightclubs, a high crime rate and a QFC supermarket that was arguably the "crusiest" grocery store on planet earth "Leathermen on Aisle 3".

In the years since, Capital Hill has gentrified. It has a much more diverse population and has experienced a big drop in crime. However, when tension boiled over recently, Capital Hill turned out to be the place where the rage erupted. 

The result is lots of plywood on businesses and the once lovingly restored Cal Anderson Park is a heartbreaking wreck of graffiti, broken lights, homeless encampments and piles of trash.

But like everything in Seattle, I'm confident Capital Hill will reinvent itself once again and come back better than before.

A Capital Hill Merchant Weighs In

Before leaving Capital Hill we veered off course a little to see the Jimi Hendrix Statue on Broadway across from Seattle Central College (his alma mater). 

The Electric Lady Studio Guitar

(Commonly known as the Jimi Hendrix Sculpture at Seattle Central College)

Saturday's weather was glorious so it seemed like a perfect day for a ferry boat to Bainbridge Island. What I did not realize was that Covid has reduced the ferry schedule dramatically. So we had a bit of a wait before our passage. Once on Bainbridge we visited a favorite restaurant where we could get a beer and (for me) a dungeness crab louie.

 

Such a Simple Perfect Meal

After dinner we made our way back to the ferry along with a bunch of cycling daytrippers. As the sun was starting to drop into the western sky we returned to Seattle. 

Less Cars, More Bikes!

 

I contend there is no better view of the Seattle skyline than what is experienced from the deck of a Washington State Ferry. Tonight was no exception.  

 

 Returning to The Emerald City

 

Tonight there was time to relax, chat and get packed for the return to the airport on Sunday morning. I can't imagine a better way to emerge from months of Covid seclusion. The return home delivered me (in my N95 mask) feeling recharged and happy.  

My psychic was right again. I'll always return to Seattle.

In fact, it will always be a part of me.

 

Roadboy's Travels © 2020

Venturing Out

Taking Steps

I took my last real business trip in February. Even with a looming pandemic in the wings, serving as the featured presenter for a two-day class in Santa Barbara California, I had no choice but to go. 

It actually seems a little quaint to think how totally safe I felt making that trip. 

I went on to travel twice since. One trip in March to perform a final walk-through on a newly completed building in California (punchlists wait for no pandemic!) and another in Oregon. In each trip I found all my familiar places had become eerie. No one on the plane. No one in the airport. Normally crowded freeways completely empty.

So, like most American's, my travel ground to a halt. A big international trip to Amsterdam and Vienna evaporated. A cycling trip though California's wine country poof! Another scheduled fall trip to London won't happen. And an October cycling trip to Northern Spain was officially cancelled yesterday.

Friends sympathized. When I couldn't cancel the day trip to Oregon a friend dropped by with N95 masks for use on board my flights.  

Later, as I was planning a business trip to equally high-risk Florida, friends in the healthcare field (in unison) made it very clear that I was being incredibly foolhardy. 

Since I have spent a lifetime advising clients to listen and carefully consider the advice of experts, I took a deep breath and took my own advice.

But now it is coming up on September and I feel like we know a lot more. Risk is mainly airborne, not contact. Outdoor activities in uncrowded locales is far better than staying indoors with the AC blasting recirculated air. Masks work. Keeping distance is important. I quit judging those who choose to go without masks (or wear them below their noses) and just stay alert to them and stay the heck away from them.

But, as I consider my life, I realize my mental health is important too. And remaining in a bubble of fear is taking too much of a toll on me. So I am carefully considering my options and beginning to venture out. Similar to everything in life, I do so with care and avoid obvious risks.

I don't fly on planes when airlines try to kill me and their own staff by packing flights. If the last minute seat mapper shows I won't have physical distance around me on a flight I simply refuse to fly and get a refund. If more people choose to avoid overcrowded United and AA flights, while opting for carefully spaced Southwest and Delta flights, the clowns in Dallas and Chicago will get the message. Alaska even recently offered a BOGO fare. Buy the window seat, a friend flies free in the aisle seat and the middle seat is blocked. Pure genius.

So last weekend I took what might be my only leisure trip of the year; a four day weekend in Seattle. I took extra care to avoid crowded restaurants and tourist traps. This trip focused on visiting nature. I came came home healthy and recharged.

I'll share photos of the mini vacay in my next post.

PS: Many thanks to Ms. M for the new banner above!

Roadboy's Travels © 2020