Caught some free wifi at a rest stop in Kansas. Time for some lunch and catch up.
-------------------
We followed the small little lines, through some of the little dots on the map and made it all the way to the coast of Maine. The goal was to stick a toe in the water and say that we have traveled from the Pacific to the Atlantic coast. We stopped at a deli along the way and picked up some sandwiches for our picnic lunch. We had a little trouble finding the beach, as all those houses got in the way. Finally, we cruised through a town that dumped us right at a public beach. YAY! Our goal was in sight. We sat on a park bench and ate our sammies as the wind whipped our hair all over the place. Byron the brave took on the task of shedding his shoes and headed for the waters edge. I followed more reluctantly, camera in hand. Thankfully there were only little waves lapping the shore as Byron walked confidently into the water. After a series of posed shots, he finally embellished on a line from a movie "hurry up, it's freakin' cold in here, Mr. Bigglesworth!!!" and ran for warmer sands. Before we left, we collected a sample of sand, freshly ground by Atlantic waters as our souvenir.
On the way back from the coast we stopped at a campground in Vermont for the night. It was wonderfully planned out with grassy common areas and picnic tables, hot showers and secluded wooded campsites. What more could you ask for. Bug spray! I have already encountered the native bug life in New York, when we dropped off the boat. I am currently wearing the latest lakeside fashion of four welts on my head and neck, that I suspect were mosquito induced. Byron said that if I had a can of spray, all he would hear all night would be Psht... psht... pshhhhhhhhhhhhttttt of the can going off. Mock me if you will, but the next morning we ate breakfast in the truck and were swatting at bugs in the cab as we beat a hasty retreat to the interstate.
As we travel through New England, we opted for the back road routes through the small towns and countryside's of Vermont and New Hampshire. Each town had a Main Street where tall church steeples reside next to quaint old homes and buildings from the 1800's, contrasting oddly with the McDonalds and Walmart just down the block. Houses were surrounded by yards with no fences and every lawn was manicured by riding mowers. Lakes, ponds, rivers and streams dotted and divided the countryside in abundance. The tree lined roads would occasionally, give way to wide, open grassy fields on sloping hillsides, with grazing horses and reclining cows. Everywhere you looked there were grain silos and barns of every shape and size and in various conditions of disrepair, which only added to their charm. From the road side, patches of little yellow flowers were in bloom and could be seen randomly scattered across the fields. Strange how flowering weeds in another state is so much more appealing than when growing in your own back yard.
After driving through some states where roadkill is a common site, I am happy to report that some of the native wildlife have developed a healthy respect for road side etiquette. Driving through the more mountainous areas, we were startled when two deer burst out the woods near the interstate. Fortunately, they stayed to the side, keeping pace with us momentarily as we continued by. On another occasion, as we were driving the rural roads in Vermont, we suddenly came upon a duck and her brood of ducklings traveling along the road side. As we approached, I could see their little bodies awkwardly waddling along after mom. They were a little too close to the road, and we moved over to give them some room. I hoped that in passing, the wake from our truck and trailer didn't send them in a premature flying tumbling across somebody's freshly mown lawn.
When it gets dark we start looking for a spot to settle down. One such stop we found was a state park in Darien, New York, just outside of Buffalo. We are enjoying the warmth of a campfire, after just finishing off a quiet, cozy meal. I say quiet because it's midweek and there is only about four or five other families in the whole park and right now we have about six large sites in the area all to ourselves. Earlier, when we arrived, Byron went all McGyver and created a dome cover over his truck bed with the poles from an old defunct tent. We stretched a tarp over it, clamped it in a few places and called it home for the night. It is currently eight-thirty and the sky is only now turning to twilight with tall oak trees and their leaves clearly silhouetted against the gray clouds rolling by. A few birds are still chirping, as if getting in the last bit of gossip for the day. The temperature is comfortable and there are no bugs! It's a perfect night.
We got up to Buffalo to see Niagara Falls. We were not disappointed! I marveled at the water charging over the top of the falls, a translucent primary green color that looked fake, like someone dropped in a dye tablet up stream. Where was all the mud & debris that clouded all the other streams and rivers we had seen so far. We stood at the top of the falls looking down and was spritzed with spray from time to time. If we really wanted to get wet, we could have been on the tourist boat that we watched disappear into the mist of water at the base of the falls. As if that wasn't close enough, some people, dressed in the finest yellow bag apparel, took the elevator down to the base of the falls. There they exited a cave and walked along a pathway up to and even through one of the fingers of water pouring down. As we watched the powerfully rushing current, it was very hard to understand why someone would purposely choose to go over the falls in a barrel or anything else.
We are heading down the highway, starting our trek towards home and we are desperately seeking a Dairy Queen or Dairy Bar as they call them in New England. We stopped at a DQ and were just putting our shoes on when a family with kids walked out, happily licking their ice cream cones. By the time we made it to the door, we found it locked and the lights flickering out one by one. It's only nine o'clock! What kind of state is this! Byron and I think it's a conspiracy. Earlier, at Niagara falls we stopped at the snack bar for an ice cream cone. We were still deciding the flavor of the moment and stepped aside for a woman and a child. The next minute we were ready and went to get in line behind her, when we saw that she was part of a much larger group of 20 children or more that had just exited the trolly.
After driving all night and a quick nap, we woke up this morning to a buffet breakfast at a truck stop and a "How are ya'all doin?" These are the indicators that let you know you're not in California anymore.
4 comments:
That first picture is backwards. The ocean is on the wrong side of the sand. What a cool trip!!
When you head back are you going through Minnesota?
This is a way out there request but there is a town called Kiester there.
Sorry Lee, it turns out it was a bit in the wrong direction. Ironically tho I did see that on a map and had the same thought.
Maybe next time.
Something's been bothering me, I hope you can help me with this.
A land mile is 5280 feet. A nautical mile is 6079 feet give or take. You're towing a boat what---
2,600 miles? That means the truck will travel about 400 miles more than the boat. How does it keep up? Do you have to keep going back for it?
Post a Comment