Mike's Photographs : Mike goes Birding in New Jersey.

Note to Self #2, I'll get there.

Before I get to the birding I want to share a story with a very important moral.

A long, long time ago in a galaxy far, far away I was a skier. It was Sunday something in February 1979, I had just returned a couple of days earlier from a 2 1/2 month mainly business trip to Korea via Alaska and Japan. Then at Christmas from Korea to Japan to Australia where I spent 3 weeks in Brisbane then back to Korea via Darwin where Quantas went on strike, then several hours later to a night stop in Singapore. Next day back to Korea via Taiwan and another night stop. After another several weeks in a Hyundai factory making tanks I returned home via a few days in Japan, Alaska and finally home. In all that time, in several countries, eating all sorts of weird and wonderful food I not once had a #2 problem, not once. I was always working away somewhere and still living with my parents. I was desperate to go skiing and after a marvelous Sunday lunch of Roast Pork, Apple Sauce, Thyme and Parsley Stuffing, Roast Potatoes, and Brussel Sprouts I headed up to Aviemore in Scotland for a weeks skiing. With me so far? My journey was up the Western side of England on the M6 motorway to the Scottish border. In those dim and distant days the A74 road towards Glasgow was about 100 miles of single carriagway road mostly through small villages and small towns. It being a Sunday evening everywhere was closed. I was a good way along this road in the hills and moorlands leading to civilization when I felt a stirring in my nether regions. Ok I thought there’s a large 24hour service station just outside Glasgow, I’ll stop there I thought. This road is desolate, there’s sheep and that’s about it. So I’m 50 odd miles from the nearest rest stop and the stirring in my nether regions became much more urgent. I was most definitely not going to stop by the side of the road as it was now dark, wet and cold and I didn't want to get molested by a sheep or horny ram while I was indisposed. I increased speed….a lot. Finally I reached the start of the motorway towards Glasgow, a sign saying Motorway Services x miles was a huge relief in a way, I clenched my nether cheeks even tighter. I screeched into the services like a bat out of hell, rushed to the bog, I just sat down, relaxed and voided. I think it must have been the highest pan splatter factor of all time, Biblical in fact, ( if I have to explain it, you don’t wanna know). After that I was fine. Where am I going with this lavatorial saga you might ask, but wait, there’s more.

So, this Sunday evening I cooked a nice joint of Beef and had a Sunday dinner, Kelly doesn’t like Brussel Sprouts so I had a half opened packet to myself, quite a lot actually. I like Brussel Sprouts. Ok. Monday morning 5AM, load the car in the snow flurries and off to New Jersey. On to the Interstate towards Philadelphia, once you get past Valley Forge there’s isn’t another services in the North of Philly. Once you turn off the Interstate onto the New Jersey roads there’s usually plenty of places to stop and go if you know what I mean. I needed to go, badly. I had gone before I left but I needed to go, again, urgently. Unusually my route was lacking in McDonalds or filling stations or anywhere with a Rest Room. The need to go became much more urgent. #1 and in particular #2. Oh crap. I saw lights ahead, it was a WaWa Market (WaWa is a chain of filling stations, it’s an Indian name for flying geese). I pulled in and thought it’s a bit small for a WaWa. I looked around and finally asked. No they didn’t have a rest room. Okay, walking cross legged out the door, gritting my teeth. A few miles up the road another huge new WaWa, fuck me! It was under construction. This was 1979 Deja Vu all over again but 3500 miles West. Eventually I came across a fully fledged WaWa with a fully functional rest room. Why are they called Rest Rooms? Needless to say I was most relieved in many ways when I left. Not quite as high a score with the Pan Splatter Factor but impressive.

The moral of this early morning rambling is Don’t eat Brussel Sprouts before a long car journey.

Now on to the pictures from yesterday, there's a lot of them.