Heading Home

We found yet one more Smithsonian museum to visit on the way out of town; this one has the SR-71 Blackbird, the Concorde and the Space Shuttle Enterprise in it. And a billion other bits of aviation history. One such is the Enola Gay, now back in one piece after 40 years. One of two extant, it dropped the bomb on Hiroshima. (The other B-29 still existing - but not at this museum - is Bock's Car, which dropped the bomb on Nagasaki. Strange to think that of an entire production run, only these two were deemed worth keeping. More people died under their wings than any other two planes in history.)
I won't go into further detail of this place, except to mention the experimental counter-rotating helicopter built by a 19-year-old and static-tested in his father's driveway: Tom Swift is true to life after all.
Then we drove, in air made solid by the sun. It was about 98 F, but somehow far hotter than yesterday. I have not been in weather like that for longer than I can remember. We were later than expected leaving the museum - big surprise - and wanted to stay off the interstates, which is how we ended up in Gettysburg, with no time to see anything but cannons and markers against the skyline. On the way through the town, Jane spotted the same ice cream store where she had ice cream when she was 11. Then more driving to Williamsport, where we are staying at the historic Genetti hotel, which deserves its descriptive if the pictures of famous guests on the walls of the lobby are anything to go by. It looks (in the dark - it was a long drive) like it dates from the Twenties.
Pizza and sleep - we'll be home tomorrow.