So if you know something about me, you know that I run a little stoic. And if you didn't know that, it's because I didn't see the point in complaining you hadn't noticed. That's mostly fine. Occasionally it causes trouble when 
bunny_hugger is worried I don't understand the severity of a problem, even though I thought I already signalled how it's a real crisis by saying outright, ``Yes, that could be a bit of a problem''. We work these communication mismatches out in time. The point is, if I complain about something, it's not a little something.
That Friday morning, before we set out to Cedar Point Halloweekends, I felt a bit stiff in my lower back. That's unusual. I don't get many unexplained aches and pains. I figured that as I got up and did things then whatever the problem was would work out. The trouble is they didn't. Somehow four hours driving to Cedar Point didn't help my back, and I was feeling a bit stiff and achy while walking around the park. it was rough enough I had to think about how to lower myself into the Blue Streak roller coaster, particularly, between its tight seats and seat belt and my jacket being on. But I supposed that the problem would go away with a full night's sleep on the honestly better-than-our mattress there.
So during lunch and while walking around the Merry-Go-Round Museum I was also thinking: shouldn't my back feel better than this? Maybe if I move a little it'll ... no, that won't work. Maybe if I stand still a little? Maybe if I sat on this chair it would support my back? And nothing was working. Finally, at the restaurant where we stopped for coffee and tea I told bunny_hugger I had something terrible to confess. I was hurting. Did she happen to have any of her back pain pills on her?
While I have a ridiculously clean medical history (1998: throat infection. 2014: rabies vaccination following possible bat exposure), she's had a lot of incidents. Among them is recurrent back pain, so she travels with some painkillers. She understood that if I said I did hurt, it meant that my lower back felt like it had been punched by a freight train full of wrecking balls and is now being kicked by the gargoyles of Notre Dame cathedral, with the cathedral backing them up. Unfortunately she didn't have anything with her at the moment. We'd have to go back to the hotel room to get them. But since we'd finished everything we needed to do in downtown Sandusky, we could go back and do that.
So we drove back and saw the Cedar Point parking lot was pretty well-filled. It might not have been record capacity, but it would be near enough. I took a something or other and sprawled out on the bed while my back recovered. And between that, and lying still, and trying a couple of yoga stretches that bunny_hugger remembered as the sort of physical therapy prescribed when she slipped a disc a few years ago, I was in tolerably good shape. I could park-go nearly like a normal person Saturday. We went in the park with the painkillers Sunday, but I didn't need them, and I drove home without serious issue. Monday --- well, that is a follow-up story, albeit one spoiled by my humor blog back when things first happened.
All this, though, is to say why we got back into the park late relative to our usual Halloweekends Saturday routine.
Trivia: In 1899 and 1900 Ransom Olds and his company developed about eleven different passenger models, in prices from $1,200 (for a two-passenger car) to $2,750 (a four-passenger brougham). Most were different bodies on the same mechanical base wit a two-cylinder, seven-horsepower engine. Source: R E Olds: Auto Industry Pioneer, George S May.
Currently Reading: The Great American Hoax, Alan Abel.