When I am out exploring the world on my motorcycle, Ghost Signs are some of my favorite sights. Their nostalgic nod to a bygone era fills me with a sense of innocence and direct simplicity. They stir up feelings of missing a place and time that I never even knew.
While navigating my way around York, Pennsylvania to look for murals and ghost signs, I rode passed a metal garden which had giant flowers made out of gears and things.
Something about the Gear Garden felt reminiscent of the PennDOT Sculpture Garden in Meadville, Pa. – another great stop. Perhaps the idea of making something lovely out of throwaways is the connection.
I bet the flowers look especially lovely on a bright blue day.
My love of donuts is known far and wide amongst my friends. Perhaps you’ve even noticed the pink donut sticker on the BonBon.
I don’t know when the love affair began, really. But I do have many childhood memories of sitting at the counter on a swivel stool with my dad at our local Dunkin Donuts. Spin, spin, spin.
Nearly every time I pass Maple Donuts on Route 30 in York, Pa. I find my wheels turning in to the parking lot automatically. Perhaps donuts have a particularly strong gravitational pull. After all, some people believe Earth is shaped like a donut.
Sometimes I even bring some home to share. Topboxes are great for this.
Have you ever seen a more glorious mailbox than this sprinkley dough hoop? I’ll save you the trouble – you haven’t.
Donuts for dayyyyyys.
One for now, one for later. Even after being squished in a tankbag, the mighty donut delivers.
After pulling in to Huntington, West Virginia this October, I opened my hotel app and found a place to stay. For some, the view from my room window might seem a little lackluster. But to a donut lover? Well… you know.
My holy grail donut stop was definitely Randy’s Donuts in Inglewood, California. Deliciousness and roadside royalty wrapped up in one neat package.
What could possibly surpass the scrumdiddlyumptiousness of eating a donut in a filthy parking lot, under the watchful gaze of that giant rooftop beast? Nothin’, that’s what.
I’m pretty sure I became aware of this ghost sign in York, Pennsylvania from reading Wendyvee’s great blog, Roadside Wonders. It’s been pinned on my Google Map for years.
When I pulled up to take pictures, a man across the street stood and watched me with a big smile on. I wonder if people who live with such things day in, day out, even notice them anymore. Or, do they become a source of neighborhood pride? Probably both.