Drive-by Bye.

London, ON — The darkness of night suddenly swirled in blue and red, the silence of a quiet evening shattered by sirens and high-revving engines.

Connecticut Avenue had become a police disco.

Had someone hit a cyclist? The response, within minutes, of more than a dozen police cars and fire trucks wailed of great tragedy.

Little did we know.

Behind our hotel, four men had jumped out of a carjacked Alfa Romeo and fired more than 50 rounds — including with a semi-automatic rifle — in a targeted killing that also left a bystander with significant injuries. My partner had walked past the spot 20 minutes earlier. I had been there a couple hours prior, and countless times before.

When I first started coming to Washington D.C. more than 30 years ago, it was understood you had to be careful to not cross the wrong streets or you could suddenly end up in a bad area. Having walked through much of the city since, I’ve never felt unsafe.

Row, row, row.

And, despite being the site of an assassination attempt on President Ronald Reagan in 1981, the area around the Washington Hilton hardly qualifies as bad.

Violent crime and homicide have increased steadily in the district in recent years, though, reaching rates unseen in 20 years. It’s immediately obvious more people are experiencing homelessness than when I was there last. The pandemic cannot have helped.

Having spent the day driving home, we have been left reflecting on change, on life, on equity. And on a love I still have for D.C.

Vitals:

• Time: 12 hours
• Distance: 969.3 kms
• Province/States: Washington D.C., Maryland, Pennsylvania, New York, Ontario
  
• Weather: Sunny and mild
• Wildlife: A panic-stricken coyote, struck by a car and unable to move its legs

Cure for What Ales You.

Tapped out: Some of the 100 beers at the Capital Ale House.

Harrisonburg, VA – With daylight still stitched into a mourning shroud, fog curled over the highway like a veil covering a crooked smile.

And then the tears began to fall.

It was appropriately sombre weather as we inched along the QEW, which had been completely shut down for a fatal accident that had torn up the pavement, left two transport trailers twisted into steel origami and claimed a pair of lives.

As frustrating as it was to sit, unmoving, for two hours before we had even left the country, it remained easy to be grateful. Things could be a lot worse – our journey would continue.

Through Pennsylvania, fog clung to the base of trees in a slow dance, and the hills offered more rain.

While we had intended to finish our day in Richmond, VA, the morning’s two-hour delay had left us short. Instead, we arrived in Harrisonburg, which is home to James Madison University and a quaint historic district where vintage signs adorn the facades.

Amazingly for us, it is also home to the Capital Ale House, and its 100 taps of craft beer. (According to Beer Advocate, this is apparently a top-10 place to have a beer in America.) Mind, effectively blown.

A couple nice selections, later – paired with fried cheese curds and ancho chilli aioli, and a burger topped with a halved bratwurst – and the day had ended on a high note.

Happenstance, indeed.

Vitals:

• Time: 13.5 hours
• Distance: 905.5 kms
• Weather: Rain, fog, giving way to sun
• States/Provinces: Ontario, New York, Pennsylvania, Maryland, West Virginia, Virginia
• Wildlife: None

Volant to Virginia.

Glen Allen, Virginia – Between brick homes with more history than my country, cicadas shrill like car alarms. The air is heavy, but breaks at dusk. Richmond, Virginia carries itself with an understated charm: a tall marble and brass statue of (Southern) civil war hero, General Robert E. Lee, looms over a central roundabout and the streets are lined by mature trees and magnificent colonial homes. Incongruously, a significant number are boarded up. Virginia Commonwealth University’s buildings branch out into the community’s narrow, streets and past a disproportionate number of tattoo shops.

It was a nice evening for a drive, particularly as the sun set across a vast sky, wispy and coloured like cotton candy.

We arrived in Virginia after 688 kilometres of driving through Pennsylvania’s gorgeous rolling hills, a brief jaunt into Maryland and a slow crawl through Washington D.C.’s traffic. Here, a crab cake sandwich awaited.

Earlier in the day, we visited the community of Volant, PA, which purports to be an Amish community, but really seemed only to be an attempt at commodifying the ‘other’ (how many true Amish products contain xanthan gum?). It was quaint, but seemingly manufactured, with kitschy crafts and manicured window boxes.