12. Part Two. Driving North
Observations from the road from Houston to Quebec.
BUT FIRST, A LITTLE HOUSEKEEPING -
The next essay, coming out in August, will mark the beginning of the second year of this project. Many of you who have been reading and supporting have set up payments last August. I appreciate you so much, but also want to send out a reminder that if you do not wish to continue paying for any reason, please make sure to change that option. As much as I treasure your support, please understand that I will feel no personal slight if you do not renew it. Just wanted to give a heads up about that. Also, the monthly and yearly rates are now set at the lowest levels that Substack will allow. $5 x month and $30 x year. As always, the content will regardless remain free, but the financial support helps me for the yearly trips to the archive. One way you can also help if you wish to do so, is by spreading the word, and passing on the information about this project to anyone else you think may enjoy reading it.
SECOND NOTE: Holland, this mug has kept my coffee hot through 5,750 miles and twenty days of driving. Have a great first year at Carnegie.
Thank you again to all of you,
Roberto
DRIVING NORTH
I returned to the U.S. from Italy on the early morning hours of Saturday, June 14. Upon re-entry at Newark I was questioned by the officer looking at my passport who also asked me what I did for a living. I had some trepidation as a naturalized citizien with a non-anglo sounding name. He was polite. Upon learning that I was a U.S. History teacher, he gave me a benign grin and asked me: ‘Are we on the right side of it?…’ I was caught by surprise and mumbled something back about sticking to the curriculum. I could tell that he was also an immigrant. I thought about the many people who work in government who must be conflicted about what they understood their mission to be upon signing on, and how that mission has changed in recent months. Once I made it through, Newark airport in the early evening hours was eerily empty. A bartender said airlines had cut their schedules in the aftermath of the tech mishaps at the airport; it put a serious dent in her income. I did my best to help by ordering a top shelf Manhattan to get me ready for the flight to Houston. Was not disappointed.
Saturday in Houston was all about getting ready to pack our pick up truck with supplies for being on the road for three weeks with all that was necessary for camping, but also needing to pack for more formal occasions. We were heading out on a tour to see places and friends that included mosquito infested campgrounds in the South, a facny wedding in Newport, RI, and we also planned on a formal restaurant night in Quebec City to celebrate our 25th anniversary. I loved telling people who complimented my clothes at the wedding that we were living out of a car.
Our home for three weeks.
We departed Houston early Sunday for our first long drive, as we aimed to arrive to a campground near Forrest City, in Northeast Arkansas by night. It’s about 40 miles West of Memphis. We were pleasantly surprised and so impressed with Arkansas Parks for their enforcement of no generators after 10pm. In recent years, we have seen fewer and fewer tent campers and almost all gigantic mobile apartment ‘camping’, and the peace we seek in nature is ruined by generators running all night. No generators at night in Arkansas parks throughout the state. Thank you, Arkansas, much appreciated.
We were able to arrive with enough light to set up tent and take a dip in the lake before making dinner, and a threatened storm never materialized.
Little warm at night, and we were kept up by falling branches in the forest nearby. Kept hoping one of them wouldn’t fall on our heads.
MONDAY, JUNE 16
After coffe, we hit the road towards Memphis. By the way, that Northeastern corner of Arkansas is a natural wonder. Beautiful hills with tiny towns busy with small scale agriculture. We drove through Memphis during rush hour but it was very empty, kind of surprising; we were quickly through it. I saw the Pyramid arena - now Bass Pro Arena, I think - and was reminded of a long time ago when I was there to see Jerry Garcia play live, for me anyway, for the last time, months before his death.
We stayed on I-40 towards Nashville and it was an 18 wheeler corridor. I have never been around so many big rigs while driving and I have done my share of interstate driving. I truly believe our country would shut down in three days without those drivers and our society would devolve Mad Max style in a week. Thanks truckers. My wife was reminded of ‘Tennessee’ by Arrested Development, and so we put that band on the stereo for a while. Here is a sampler.
This turned out to be the longest driving day, as we clocked about 13 hours on the road. Luckily I have figured out the sweet spot where I keep a good pace and still get a great mileage from the truck. We headed North towards Lousiville but headed East at Elizabethtown before reaching it. We moved Eastward in the afternoon and crossed Kentucky on the Blue Grass Parkway which is truly one of the country’s treasures. We went through gorgeous cuts through the mountains, went past horse racing country, bourbon distillery all lined up, neither of which were unfortunately on the schedule. The plan was to stop at a remote campsite near Charleston, West Virginia. As the night darkness descended, we found ourselves in curvy mountain roads deep in fog and some rain, and also found out that there had been some serious flooding where we intended to camp. We found a hotel for a good night sleep.
TUESDAY JUNE 17
The next day was a shorter ride. Our destination was Princeton, NJ, where we intended to spend a couple of days with my mother in law. We found a most beautiful route going North through West Virginia, up to Morgantown, which prompted listening to Joni Mitchell for a while - Morgantown sampler - and headed into Pennsylvania. The scenery remained spectacular as we moved Northeast through PA and passing outside Allentown, where I lived for a few months while taking a youth inspired diversionary break from college. But that story is for another time. Once in New Jersey, we dropped down South towards Princeton. We took a slightly longer route with the goal of being on beautiful roads as much as we could. It was absolutely worth it. While visiting my mother in law, we stayed with a friend in Frenchtown, NJ, on the other side of the Delaware from Pennsylvania, about 45 minutes away. A beautiful drive through small towns and small roads. We spend two lovely evenings drinking wine and eating cheese on the porch and watching deer wander in and out. The mornings were filled with coffee and bird songs more numerous that I could count. Beginning to feel the vacation vibe.
THURSDAY, JUNE 19
We headed out midday for Beacon, NY to see one of our friends that we have known the longest. One of a crew of close friends who introduced me to my wife. Beacon is up the Hudson just a few miles past West Point. A former working class town, now taken over by Brooklin hipsters who have left the big city, and brought all the fancy coffee shops and butchers and cheese shops and beard grooming shops and what have you, with them. It is also Pete Seeger’s hometown. We visited for a bit and then spent an hour sitting and talking by the river, enjoying a cloudy respite from a hot day.
But were not done traveling for the day. Our final destination was Newport, RI. We were there for a family wedding and the first opportunity to wear our finery that had been sitting in the back of the truck. We reached Newport at dark and settled in our hotel.
FRIDAY, JUNE 20
A wonderful day with family and sights. We were privileged enough to be invited to two family events: a sailing boat excursion in the morning on the waters outside Newport, and a family gathering at the Internation Tennis Hall of Fame.
Truly thankful and grateful for the experience of seeing family and enjoying the events that they offered.
Newport has many wonderful buildings and sights, but this caught my attention. A really long wall with hand carved stones and decorative touches. Someone decided that it was worth the time and money to create something beautiful instead of just laying brick and cement. In my head I decided the craftsmen had to be Italian.
The location of the wedding was a spectacular opening that looked into one of the bays around the city.
SUNDAY, JUNE 22
As wonderful as Newport was we had to keep on moving on. Today’s ride was shortish, as we were headed for Hingham, south of Boston. We enjoyed quality time with good friends, passing on the way New Bedfahd, near which people dear to me had grown up. On this stop we were granted laundry privileges and were able to get our dwindling supply of clean clothes reset. Thanks beautiful family.
MONDAY, JUNE 23
Another short drive took us to New Hampshire, to visit yet more family. It had been awhile, and the children have become adult. I always think that time stops for other people and am always surprised when I am presented with grown ups as I expected the same children as before. Got pulled over for the first time in this trip. 42 mph in a 30 zone. Come on, man, how do y’all get around in rural New Hampshire? I was let go with a stern warning. I expected the Texas tags would get us in trouble, but not this time, this town actually cared about safety and not revenue stream in their speed law enforcement.
TUESDAY, JUNE 24
Our 25th weeding anniversary. We headed for Quebec City where we planned to spend two days to celebrate. At the Canadian border, the young officer saw our Texas residence and asked us if had any guns with us. I replied negatively, and after a moment’s reflection she asked if we had any guns back home. She was genuinely surprised when we said ‘No’. ‘No guns?’ ‘No…It’s just us and a few other other folks.’ So, we found out what they think of us Texans in Canada. On the remainder of the drive to Quebec City I was busy calculating the speed limit in kilometers. We arrived at our hotel in the afternoon. A beautiful small building in the lower old town with only 20 rooms. The flimsy remnants of my French language began to reawaken. We took the time to freshen up, dress up, and then walk up to the higher part of the historic city for a formal French dinner to celebrate 25 beautiful years, and wish ourselves 25 more.
Substack tells me I have reached the limit for an email post with pictures, so I will write this in two parts. In the next few days, more Canada, and then back to the U.S.
Thanks for coming along with me…
Congrats, lovebirds, on your first 25 years—may you celebrate MANY more fun times and adventures! (PS, we don’t have any guns either!)
What a glorious way to celebrate. I sho love you both, beaucoup!!