There is always a Maine connection to everything, if you look hard enough, even at the Smithsonian Museum in Washington D. C., often called the “nation’s attic.”

The Smithsonian, you will recall, is the largest museum on this planet, with 18 different buildings and galleries, each of which will take more than a day to perambulate.

No motor trip to Florida (Red Sox spring training) can be considered complete without the obligatory stop in the nation’s capital. For one thing, the Smithsonian always (well, twice) has available parking spaces out front.

For another, the displays are boggling. Last year’s visit was to the Air and Space Museum, which featured exhibits from the original Wright Brothers plane to moon rockets.

This year it was a visit to the National Museum of American History.

On the third floor was the American Presidency exhibit. It had everything from the hat Abraham Lincoln wore on the night he was shot to Thomas Jefferson’s writing desk where he drafted the Declaration of Independence, Bill Clinton’s sax and Laura Bush’s inauguration gown.

With God as my witness, the exhibit opened with a handwritten note from George I to his secretary of war, one Henry Knox, who, as local historians know, ended up in Thomaston where he frittered away a few thousand acres of land and ended up broke.

The very last display in the presidential exhibit was the 1962 album by Vaughn Meader, who had a successful career mimicking JFK, until Nov. 22, 1963. Meader passed away last year in his Hallowell abode.

With so many exhibits left, it was a tough choice. I finally chose the “America on the Move” exhibit since I was always a sucker for trains, since my father worked for the New Haven Railroad for 47 years.

Museum docent (tour guide) John J. Durant, who hails from New Bedford, stopped in the middle of the tour to discuss the mixed reviews that motels got as the automobile grew more important.

J. Edgar Hoover, the cross-dresser who once ran the FBI, condemned the simple motels as a “dens of inequity” since so many of the Most Wanted members ended up using them as hideouts. If anyone knew inequity, it was J. Edgar.

Durant was explaining that many motels banned local residents from checking in, to avoid the “hot pillow trade.”

Eventually, families started buying and hauling trailers to vacation spots. Lo and behold, behind Durant was a replica of the York Beach Motor Court, complete with an original Decatur trailer.

Even the motor courts got their share of criticism, Durant said. “Many locals feared that the visitors would make their trailer homes permanent and never leave.” Obviously, Durant has been in southern climes for so long that he forgot about Maine winters. Few families would be hardy enough to survive a winter in the tiny, unheated trailers of the day.

Motel quality was so spotty that organizations like AAA, Howard Johnson’s and Holiday Inn sprung up, so families knew where to go. “You never knew what you would get,” he said.

For anyone on a motor trip, it was a must to see the exhibit of the 1903 Winton automobile, the actual car used on the first cross-country motor trip. The car was driven by Vermont doctor Nelson Jackson, who made the trek as a result of a bet with his men’s club.

With a trusty block and tackle to conquer mud holes (no paved roads), his personal mechanic and his dog, Bud, Dr. Jackson made the trip in 63 days at a cost of $8,000.

“During a single day, they had to use the block and tackle 18 times. When they ran out of parts, they simply hired the local blacksmith to make them one. It is ironic that the blacksmiths helped the development that put them out of business,” Durant said.

Noting the 63-day cross-country trek, Durant said that in March 1990, the SR-71 Blackbird jet plane flew from Los Angeles to Washington in 61 minutes. It was the Blackbird’s last flight before it went on display at the Smithsonian.

The expansive Smithsonian railroad exhibit included the actual Southern Railroad locomotive that carried FDR back to Washington after his death. The exhibit also features an actual section of Route 66, the road that saw the migration westward.

There was much more to see, but Florida and 80-degree temperatures beckoned. I never even made it to the Ella Fitzgerald (my very favorite singer) exhibit, or the Price of Freedom exhibit, which included a collection of World War II photographs.

I had miles to go before I tanned. Perhaps I would stop again at the Smithsonian, on the way back.

In April.

Send complaints and compliments to Emmet Meara at emmetmeara@msn.com.