Hi Gram,
I got a little rest last night and am excited to tell you about the rest of my adventures in Philadelphia. The sun is shining here in Denver (oh, I finished my drive to Denver yesterday) and I can’t wait to tell you all about the adventures I’ve had on this road trip. But first, the conclusion to my last road trip!

I got up on Thursday, full of energy and excited for a bike ride! I’ll be honest, my feet were hurting a little from all the walking the day before. I really needed to stretch my hips, back, and shoulders a lot before I was ready to mount the bike, but I was determined to see as much as I could see in my limited time in town. Annie had provided me a list of suggested things to see, so I plotted out my route. I decided to start with Spruce Street Park first and headed that direction, looking forward to seeing the riverfront and dog park. I rode along Christopher Columbus Blvd for a few miles, not quite finding the park. I checked my GPS, then doubled back after realizing that I’d blown right by it. I got off my bike and walked it through the park, past hammocks strung between posts in the shade, some fountains, and a few shuttered hot dog and pretzel vendors. I saw some big ships, walked along wooden and concrete boardwalks, and ended at a small dog park past the highway and tucked away. Surely this couldn’t be the famous big dog park, right? Maybe I wasn’t at Spruce Street Park…

Oh well, I doubled back, stopped for some water when I got back to the hammocks, and headed off to Washington Square Park. Headed here on this road trip, I was nervous about riding my bike through Philadelphia, with all the traffic and narrow streets. The city gave me a pleasant surprise, though, with well-marked bike lanes, courteous drivers, and a lot of bike and walking trails spread throughout the city. The park was a picture from the imagination of what a park could be. People were laying about on picnic blankets, kids were playing on the lawns, an old man was sitting on a park bench feeding pigeons, and there was a guy playing the cello sitting on a park bench on the other side of the square. I took a break to soak it all in and get a drink of water near the cello player after throwing a tribute into his case. The music set a nice soundtrack to the gorgeous sunny day while I re-hydrated and responded to a few text messages.

Rested, I peddled on in search of my next landmark. The movie “Rocky” is to Philadelphia like Al Capone is to Chicago – which is to say, it’s one character that is associated loosely with the city, but the tourism industry has really latched on. I headed to the Philadelphia Museum of Art with the steps made famous in the movie. The building is beautiful, one of the oldest American museums, and an example of Greek Revival architecture. It houses over 240,000 objects, part of the museum campus covering over 10 acres.

I’m not a runner or a boxer, so instead of running up the stairs, I chose to walk up them so I could say I’ve followed in Rocky’s footsteps should I ever decide to become a boxer or movie character. A statue of Rocky stands on one side of the stairs, where there was a line of tourists ready to pose next to the statue while a friend snapped their picture. I considered heading into the museum to see the art, but my timing wasn’t great. They were due to close soon and I needed to get back to the house.

I got back to the house and told Annie that I was underwhelmed by the dog park at Spruce Street Park, only to find out that she meant the park at the OTHER end of Spruce street! We had a good laugh, knowing that I’d been within blocks of it when I rode home from the Museum of Art, and I set my mind to going to see it the next day.

I got up on Friday, hungry for an authentic Philly Cheesesteak. Annie directed me to Angelo’s Pizzeria by the Italian Market, a famous neighborhood where one can easily buy produce and meat from sidewalk vendors. I headed out on my bike again, salivating at the thought of a good lunch. After a little bit of a traffic holdup while the bus in front of me navigated the narrow streets, I arrived! I locked up the bike and stood in line. Annie had warned me to bring a book to read while I wait, and I could see why. As I stood in line, there was an old man barking instructions, “cash only… order on the left, pickup on the right…” and calling out names for people whose orders were ready. I got in there, cash in hand and menu item chosen. I don’t eat beef, so luckily they had a buffalo chicken version of the classic sandwich. With high efficiency, I told her what I wanted, my name, my drink, and headed outside to wait. I found a stoop leading into the barber shop next door and dug into my book. After a while of alternating between reading and people watching, I headed back to see if my order was ready. I heard my name as I stepped inside, paid the nice lady, and exited with my prize. Back at my stoop, I unwrapped the layers of paper to expose the hot sloppy goal of my journey. Sauce dripping down my arms, I savored every bite, pulling it back at one point from a curious canine, telling him “this ain’t for you, buddy” as his owner and I laughed. Satisfied with my treat, I downed the rest of my water and got back to my bike. As I was unlocking the bike, I heard a guy behind me ask “you here for a cheesesteak or a hair cut?” to which his buddy laughed and replied “why not both? I got the weekend coming up!”

I set my sights next on Schuykill park, to the west. After a scary missed turn that took me right into downtown and the heart of six lane traffic, I looped around and found my route again. As I reached the park, I was glad to see the huge dog park with lots of people chasing and playing with their dogs. Now I don’t have a dog and I’m not one of those people who is softhearted and melts every time he sees a canine – I was just so glad to finally put my eyes on what had become a fabled destination over the past few days! I found a good spot to park the bike and sit on a bench for a while and let my lunch digest a little more. Kinds ran by playing, lovers strolled past, and an older couple made their way past me in what looked to be their finest Sunday clothes, holding each other up and giggling like children, wrapped up in their own little world.

From there, I made my way to the riverwalk, over a bridge and across some tracks onto the pavement. I headed left and followed it all the way to the end, then turned around and rode it for quite some distance in the other direction. I passed people out for strolls, some tourists riding rented bikes, saw some cool graffiti and paintings, rode past boathouse row, a series of boathouses for rowing clubs dating back to 1853, and passed the aftermath of a scull race with teams carrying their long narrow boats out of the water and loading them onto trailers and racks. As the path got more and more congested by the scullers and their supporters, I decided to turn around and head back towards the house.

Annie and I were going to go check out a festival in the Italian Market on Saturday, where legend has it that people try to climb a greased pole. Their prize is the meat at the top of the pole and, of course, bragging rights. Alas, it rained most of the day Saturday so we just sat around and talked most of the day, read my book for a while, had some lunch, and watched a little TV. In the afternoon, we decided to get out the hose and spray the front of the house to see if we could replicate a water leak that has been taunting her for months. After first running the hose out the front door, we realized that was letting water run in the door so we re-routed it through the window. I started spraying low, then worked my way up the siding. Once I was spraying along the seam in the metal siding, the drip over the door got going. We tested it again with the neighbor‘s nozzle that sprayed a stronger and finer stream. Elated that we’d found it, we decided to go to dinner and celebrate.

First, we took the bus to Han Dynasty, colloquially called Handy Nasty, where we shared a variety of small plates and some laughs. After dinner, we headed to a local pub where Annie found a unique beer that is near impossible to find but these guys had it on tap and didn’t even know what they had. She happily downed a pint before marching on to see a little history. I was enamored with having a personal tour guide explain the backstory to Elfred Alley, show me the Liberty Bell, the Betsy Ross museum, Independence Hall, and the Constitution Center. This woman knew her facts and enlightened me with pride in her voice about all the little details and depth of our nation’s history. Tired and realizing we’d probably missed the bus, she called an Uber. A funny driver in a Tesla pulled up and whisked us back to the house. I’m surprised how many Uber drivers show up in Teslas. It feels like a luxury taxi riding in one of those, and I imagine driving one makes the job feel just a little more fun. Tired when we got back to the house, we each headed off to bed.

Sunday afternoon, itching to get some more highway under my tires, I loaded up the car and headed on my way. I got lucky to find a spot right in front of the house, where I put the bike rack back on the car, loaded up the bike, and secured everything in place. After loading up the rest of my stuff, I gave Annie a big hug goodbye and pointed my GPS west. I immediately hit traffic and messaged Annie that I’d made the poor choice of leaving during rush hour. She reminded me that it was Sunday and informed me that that was just city traffic. It cleared up a few miles later and it was smooth sailing from there. Looking back on it, that wasn’t so bad compared to what Philly residents are going to face for the foreseeable future after I-95 collapsed after a truck caught fire under an overpass less than a month later. My heart goes out to all the cursing and lost tempers they’ll suffer. Back on the road trip, though, I’m on my way west!