New Beer, Old Building and Baltimore

On Saturday, Front Royal was hosting a beer festival, which, since I hadn't planned anything for the day, I thought I should at least check it out. The tickets were $30 though, fine for outsiders, but since most of the attending breweries were an easy drive  for me, I didn't think I needed to spend this. So I cycled around investigating the booths to see if I was in fact missing out on anything.

 Luckily I wasn't, so I pedaled around the streets some more, admiring the town's beautiful hanging baskets, overflowing with petunias, and then I spotted the local ice cream store's owner. C and C Frozen Treats make superb ice cream with some very unique flavors, and they're extremely popular, I've never seen their little shop empty. Nina called over her husband, William, both outfitted for the day in their costumes, and they posed outside their store with their mural behind them. Lovely people!
 The day was beginning to burn and I was getting thirsty, a beer seeming very appropriate right now, so I cycled over to the Beer Museum, who were celebrating Oktoberfest with some new ales, and was welcomed inside. As I sat chatting to some locals, two of my friends, Bill and Jen, walked towards the door. They had been about to text me since they were in town and I was glad I caught them before they spent $30 each on tickets to the beer festival. They would find plenty of outstanding beers here at the museum. We found a shady table and spent a few hours in continuous drinking and conversation. The beers we'd began brewing a few weeks ago at their house were nearly ready for testing and bottling, but they most wanted to let me know about an old abandoned house they'd found, telling me of its sad demise and that I should take a look before the winter. As the afternoon rolled on, it was determined that beer consumption should stop and that coffee needed to be taken. But as soon as we parted to make our separate journeys back to my house, an arm wrapped around my shoulder and I was led to a small group where one of the guys was English. I was introduced and discovered he lived in town with his wife along with another couple of English buddies. I was invited to join them on Tuesday evenings at the museum, a regular event for them. How great that I have some homeland folks in this small town! I clambered upon my bike and rode home, (wobbling only slightly), where Bill and Jen were waiting. Large mugs of very strong coffee went down very well.
On Sunday I decided to go and investigate the old house they had told me about. I threw a bike in the back of Stanley, hoping to go for a pedal along the C and O towpath afterwards. The house was easy to find, standing forlornly under large shady trees on the edge of a horrendously ugly, brand new Ryan home estate, that wouldn't likely be standing for as long as this old majestic beauty on the hill.

Of course it had been vandalized inside but the structure was solid. I immediately noticed the dark wood door frames and trims, like in my house, marveling at how the wood had been curved to fit the beautiful rounded walls upstairs. There were a few wooden built ins but the glass had been smashed, while plenty of bottles and cans littered the floor. It's obviously a hangout for kids. The structure was still sound and most of the floorboards intact. I didn't notice any water damage and hoped that restoration was on the cards for this old home. I did like some of the old wallpaper designs. Out the back were some wooden barns, planks missing, but still standing strong. Hundreds of footprints dented the dusty dirt inside the cow barn, but the only inhabitants now were the deers. Cabbage white butterflies and crickets ruled over the fields here, the former flitting low, swift and silent, above the ground and skimmed over the golden rod, while the latter chose to remain hidden among the stalks, yet singing loudly to ensure their presence was known. Two crows joined in with their chorus, rasping caws as they circled overhead.

I was a little sad as I left the house, and hope that in the near future Bill and Jen will tell me it's being restored. I drove to a nearby small town by the bike path and, standing outside of my car in the blazing sun, stood for less than a minute before deciding that it was way too hot and humid for any kind of exertion, so turned for home and a cold shower.
I took Monday off to visit Amazon's  huge fulfillment warehouse in Baltimore. Being a regular customer I was curious to see the workings of this company, especially after reading so many worker complaints. This is the biggest warehouse of its kind in America, the length of 28 football pitches, and it felt expansively massive as I walked along its length to the visitor door, as if the walkways had no endings, the conveyor belts rolling forever.
Although we could take our cell phones in we weren't allowed to take photos. Frustrating but understandable. Bob sent us this link afterwards showing how the robots work inside the warehouse; we saw all that's shown here except the larger robots moving huge stacks. He also informed us that 11/2/2018 an EF-1 tornado entered the facility, tearing down a wall, flooding the premises and sadly killing two of the staff.
Interestingly, I found this article from a Washington Business Journal reporter, his visit only a couple of weeks prior to ours and with the same tour guide.
Our tour went the same way as the WBJ reporter's, and we got our water bottles at the end also. There was a horrendous smell just outside and inside, like plastic chemicals, but no one could tell me what it was. The noise was deafening. I'd arrived early and gone into the reception area to wait for the others but the assault on my nostrils and ears propelled me back outside. My ears actually hurt with the constant slamming of plastic totes on conveyor belts and the metallic clunks of the machinery. We couldn't hear ourselves talk throughout most of the tour. That must wear the workers down during their 10 hour shifts.
The warehouse was so vast it was impossible to see the end walls. Apparently China is paying to enlarge the harbor so they can send bigger ships. Currently they arrive full but return empty, so no exports from Baltimore then...
The tour mainly focused on the robots which work in an automated area with a barcoded system on the floor which acts as a road map. Staff entering the area have to wear repellent vest so they don't get hit. The robots can lift 1500lbs and are moving continuously. I was kind of disappointed to see they didn't have arms or heads, they actually resembled huge Roombas with a palette stacked on top. Everywhere around us was bright yellow industrial shelving, yellow support poles and over 40000 yellow plastic totes whizzing past us or overhead. The place was immaculate. I did look around for any kind of trash on the floor but saw none. We didn't see that many staff, certainly not the numbers required to output the infinite packages that were endlessly being shipped. I inquired about an area we weren't entering, with more conveyor belts and grey totes, but no people, and was told that was secret. He wouldn't supply any information. Even though our tour was only an hour, just the constant busy activity and noise volume was abrasive and I was glad when we returned to the quiet of the reception room.
As we were about to leave one of our guides looked away and momentarily dropped his guard, his face looking worn and drained, but seeing me watching him, he suddenly smiled hugely. Poor guy. As we had walked around, some of the staff smiled and said hello, or waved, and I wondered if they'd been told to do that. I'd also noticed at the STOW and PICK stations there were only a couple of people working, and not at a rushed rate. I noticed the same at a PACK area, 8 stations with only 4 people working, and again at a relaxed rate. Yet, with the 936 packages being shipped a minute, and we were constantly in view of these racing conveyor belts, loaded with packages, I knew there had to be hundreds of workers elsewhere, out of sight. I have to admit although Amazon seemed to run like a well oiled machine I was grateful to leave the building and its non stop noise and activity. I had certainly gained a new respect for the workers.