My previous entry, cleverly titled "Schaads in Richmond - Part One", detailed our trip from Thursday to Saturday. You would think that would be the end of it; Sunday we would just drive back and the trip would be over right? But no, we had to be spontaneous.

First, I should say that in between racing around to historic sites we visited a Barnes and Noble twice, on Friday and Saturday evening. We're both big Book People, meaning we'll buy more books than we'll ever read. My Love of Books directly conflicts with my Love of Not Having Stuff and yes it's stressful but therapy is helping. I suppose I get through it by deluding myself that I really WILL read every single one, especially such classics as "Dental Emergencies and How to Avoid Them", "The Unofficial Guide to Walt Disney World (years 1984 to 2002)" and "Spontaneity in Seven Easy Steps for Idiot Dummy Fools." One day. Ideally while sitting on a beach somewhere amidst the roar of the waves and very low humidity.

We really enjoyed B&N, as there were a number of great sales and the store was the size of eight football fields. It even had valet parking, a roller rink and a Laundromat. That was convenient, since we stopped at the cafe, bought over-priced drinks and then spilled them all over ourselves.

Sunday morning we packed up, bid farewell to the Grand Parents and headed north. We had decided to be spontaneous and stop at Luray Caverns. We have this running joke now about caves; I think they're fascinating, but Tammy thinks that once you've seen one stalactite you've seen them all. We've been to two of the local caves in central Pennsylvania, so I was not prepared for Luray. The cave is IMMENSE.

Photography was actually allowed inside the cave, but my tiny digital camera and itty-bitty flash were completely out classed. At right is a photo of some stalactites, one of many formations inside the caverns. (I also have a large, fancy-shmancy wallpaper you can download here.) I wish I could share just how amazing the view was. And just how much room there was - the Pennsylvania caves we've been in were tiny by comparison.

While we were below ground, Connor noted that the air seemed very clean and that his headache was gone. I did a little reading on Wikipedia and saw that the air is very pure, the temperature is a constant 54° and the humidity is comfortable - all things we experienced.

Besides the immensity of the caves, and the stark beauty, there were a few more things worth noting.

The first was a calm, still pool - only a few inches deep - that was as reflective as a mirror. You couldn't tell where the water was without studying it for a few minutes, it looked like stalagmites growing out of the ground instead of a reflection of the ceiling's stalactites. I have a photo but it just doesn't do justice to the completely weird sensation of looking into the water and not knowing where the reflection began:

The other really cool thing was a giant wishing well. Apparently they clean out all of the coins each January and donate them to a charitable cause (the caverns are actually privately owned). The well looked like a mini-version of the last scene in the first Pirates of the Caribbean - the cave with all of the treasure. Granted, this was just pocket change and there wasn't a doubloon, crown or chest of cursed Aztec gold to be found, but it was still an amazing sight. I threw in a penny and it didn't hit the water, but instead landed on a rock. So, I suppose, "I Got A Rock" yet again. I'm not sure if you get your wish in that case or not.

If you're really into caves, and are passing Luray, I would suggest stopping. If, however, you feel that "if you've seen one stalactite you've seen them all" I would suggest stopping anyway because it was extremely cool. Cool in a nature-look-what-God-has-wrought sort of way, not in a look-at-the-dwarves-mining-gold sort of way. Try as I might I did not discover a single dwarf, gnome, goblin or Balrog while we were down there. Not even a single giant poisonous albino cave slug. I did see an area cordoned off with a sign that said "Armory" but when I tried to go that way the Tour Master (who, come to think of it, WAS wearing chain mail the whole time) produced a staff and rapped me about the head.

The last bit of adventure took place on Skyline Drive. In addition to being a sucker for a giant cave I'm a sucker for a gorgeous view of mountains and valleys. Particularly in Virginia, where everything seems cleaner and more beautiful than Pennsylvania. (Sorry Pennsylvania! We'll always have "Road Construction Ahead.") So I convinced my family to go through the rest of Skyline Drive. Okay, I made that up. They were held hostage as I was driving.

Skyline Drive is a 106 mile road through Shenandoah National Park in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. The views are absolutely breath-taking. You would know this for sure if I was even somewhat competent with a camera. But more on that in a minute. Okay, I just saw you scroll down for the pictures, real nice. Try to stay with me here.

When you enter the park, there are signs apparently posted everywhere that the speed limit is 35 miles per hour. You see where I'm headed with this, don't you? Well then, let the justification commence. These signs are posted where you enter the park - the place that has you otherwise occupied with trying to figure out how much the park costs, what plan you want to buy, where you're going, and so on.* After you start out on your drive, the speed limit is not posted anywhere else. This could be because we hadn't yet gotten to one of the other two signs posted somewhere on the 106 mile long road, or it could be that bears ate the signs.**

So there I am, taking in all of the beautiful scenery - dazzled, as it were - and driving along a practically deserted road because it costs three hundred dollars to get into the park. And the road is in mint condition (no reserve) because no one ever drives on it.*** So how fast does one end up going?

Let's take some more time here to review. You have no idea what the speed limit is, because you missed the posted signs. (I know it's a National Park, but try to help me out here.) You're on a deserted well-made road and you're traveling from scenic outlook to scenic outlook, pining for the fjords. How fast would YOU travel?

(At this point my better judgement, which looks like a very small version of me on my shoulder dressed in a fine suit with polished shoes and perfectly applied mousse, has appeared and is telling me to wrap this post up there's really no need to get into this further. But my writing self, which looks like a very small version of me on my other shoulder dressed in worn jeans and a t-shirt (probably from Eddie Bauer) with no mousse or even any hair gel has appeared and says "You think too much." )

Where was I? Driving, yes. I was going a rather conservative, safe, not-a-problem-with-my-super-human-lightning-reflexes 54 mph when I passed by Officer Antony's car. His Officer Car. With the Radar Thingy. And wouldn't you know it, the speed limit was actually 35 mph. Thinking quickly, I pulled over and told my home-schooled kids that we were going to see the Justice System in action, and that there would be a quiz afterwards. My daughter asked what was going to happen, and I told her that I would get a ticket for speeding or that there was a bear on the roof, I wasn't sure which since I didn't know that the speed limit was 35 mph.*

The officer was very polite. He only shot me with the stun gun once, and really I was feeling a little sleepy anyway before that and not sure I would make it all the way back to State College. He took all of my information and called it in, to make sure we weren't a terrorist cell driving through to blow up a scenic outlook. After what seemed like an hour, but was only 48 minutes, he came back and asked me if I was feeling lucky.

What do you say to an armed officer of the law named Antony who has just asked you if you're feeling lucky?

My better judgement appeared and was about to answer until my writing self appeared and shot him with a stun gun. I figured if I said "Yes" I might appear brazen. (And you never want to appear that.) If I said "No" well, I might end up not lucky. So I said the only reasonable thing that popped into my head:

"Yeswe'reheretoblowupthescenicoverlookI'msosorry!"

Okay I made that up. I actually said "I don't know, am I?" in as polite and respectful a tone as I could muster, given he had just shot me with a stun gun 49 minutes earlier. See, I was basically communicating that he was in charge. They love that. And it turned out I was lucky, as he gave me "a warning." He then explained how the entire 106 miles was a 35 mph zone, and that I probably wouldn't see any more signs because the bears ate them, and that I should be very careful in the future. I told him I would be, that I would never speed again, that I was sorry about that time I cheated off of Mikey Dabrowski in fifth grade math, and a bunch of other stuff he really didn't seem interested in. He then let us resume our trip, and I pulled out into traffic, swerved off the road and hit a tree.

Okay I made that up too. Don't you get nervous about the post-police-stop driving resumption? I haven't been stopped that often, but I always think that I'll pull into traffic and hit someone head on, or hit the police car, or something silly like that.

After we got out of the Shenandoah National Park I stopped the car and called my spontaneity advisor and explained what had happened during my attempt at spontaneity. He said "Hold on" and then fumbled with the phone and called some people over and explained my story and they all started laughing hysterically until one said "Hey you didn't press the mute button, that's the speaker button" and then there was a click and a few minutes of silence and he came on the phone again and told me to keep trying.

The rest of the trip was pretty uneventful. Below are a few pictures from Skyline Drive. If you're ever in the area, and like beautiful vistas and driving 35 mph with a sign-hungry bear on your roof, I highly recommend it. Just ask for Officer Antony.

You can tell him "Lucky Carl" sent you.

*Initial justification - Carl was confused. (I know, this is hard to accept.)
**Secondary justification - bears eating speed limit signs. (Talk to a Park Ranger; this happens all of the time.)
***Tertiary justification - I just wanted to use the word "tertiary."