With temperatures in Cambridge just right for a bikini-scene with Charlie's penguins, this weekend provided the perfect opportunity to ignore Horace Greely's sage advice and instead take a tip from upstart John Belushi--Roadtrip!

After all, in commemoration of George Washington's birthday we thought it would be our patriotic duty to freeze in Pennsylvania for a few days.

The essence of any roadtrip is the musical accompaniment and light-hearted banter among the occupants of the engaged mobile unit. "I'm riding in your car, you turn on the radio."

Of course, that detailed narrative was not offered by either of us. Rather, the Pointer Sisters record, that profound ditty, managed to join us in the front seat of the car at least three times every hour with their boot-warming rendition of "Fire."

All that fire still didn't raise the New Jersey temperatures above 20 degrees. Upon arriving in Princeton the effects of New York City's awe-inspiring traffic jams faded and the impending basketball contest between the Crimson and the Tigers, our supposed raison d'etre, became the target of our journalistic odyssey.

Unfortunately, the Harvard cagers proved as cold as the Cambridge thermometers, managing to hit only 35.4 per cent from the field in a 65-60 losing effort. The Pointer Sisters scored more often this afternoon on the radio.

Thus, Jadwin Gymnasium, home of the Princeton Tigers, proved to be an unwelcome pit-stop on the first leg of our Ivy 500.

The raisin-sugar cookies in the press room at Jadwin barely provided enough fuel to contemplate cruising to Philadelphia for the Crimson's contest against Pennsylvania this evening.

In the long run, a roadtrip embarked upon by two naive collegiate cub reporters could still have its own merits. Just think how difficult it usually is to keep up with current events when you are so immersed in courses and in studying at Harvard.

Why, in less than five hours, we were reintroduced to the dominant trends in American intellectual society. Every song on the radio mentioned those subtle metaphysical concerns, such as acne, fourteen-year-old girls, and of course--love.

I mean, "Do you think I'm sexy," was the most harmless question any song posed all day yesterday. Anyway, this last paragraph ties into the closing because tonight's stop on the hoopster's road trip is Philadelphia, the city of Brotherly Love.