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Today I’ve been left at home with the plumber!
After three days on the road, I don’t mind and I suspect we’ll be out leaf-peeping again tomorrow.
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The best way to see the foliage is from above.
When I had relatives in Maine, I loved visiting up there in October and the small commuter planes on that route afforded the best views.
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It’s been 25 years since I was in Maine, but I don’t think much can have changed in the small town I went to.
Dexter was home to a shoe factory but these days it seems they only make bowling shoes and I think those are made elsewhere now.
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Despite sad memories I would love to go back, especially at this time of year, but it would be a four hour drive and we couldn’t leave the dear darlings!
A sitter could be arranged, but I wouldn’t like to be away from the elderly girls.
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Sometimes, I think it’s actually better to remember places as they were. All too often you go back to find things changed and hardly ever for the better.
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We drove to Clifton Park and back three days in a row this week, but at different times of day and where we could, we varied our route.
Taking detours!
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Visiting Maine I don’t remember so many power lines.
Population is much thinner there.
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Dexter wasn’t easy to reach in a hurry. I could get to my parents in England more quickly.
There were no direct flights from New York to Bangor. There was one from Newark, but getting there was in itself a trial, so I used to fly to Boston for a connection.
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The problem with that was weather.
Commuter aircraft did not do well if the weather was out and I had a genius for picking bad weather days.
Much sitting around occurred as well as missed connections, which required further waiting for seats to be available on alternate flights.
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After a few such tedious experiences, I decided instead to drive, which in the long run took no longer and at least on the ground you could keep going.
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Eight-hour drives presented different challenges.
Getting off Long Island being the first, although in those days traffic wasn’t quite as horrendous as it is now.
There was a series of bridges to cross and you had to concentrate, this being pre-GPS.
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My aunt decided one year that she wanted to see England one last time, so I arranged for her to fly there from New York and to avoid the connection in Boston, I booked her to fly into Newark. I drove there to collect her and got lost coming back.
That day, I think we crossed every bridge in metropolitan New York. I told my aunt I was giving her a scenic drive, but I’m sure she wished she was back in Maine.
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However, heading north was not quite as complicated and I got underway without too much trouble.
The main issue then was staying awake.
It was quite a serious issue, in fact.
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Whether I was really “borderline narcoleptic”, I’m not sure. But driving a car for even fairly short distances regularly saw me nodding off.
Smacking myself, opening the window to freezing air, taking “no-doze” tablets did not help.
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So undertaking an eight-hour drive was something of a risk.
Remembering it now, I think I must have been mad.
There wasn’t a great deal of traffic on the thruway, but there was certainly enough to be concerning and my major worry was always that I might cause an accident and hurt someone else. That would be hard to live with.
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The thing was, I didn’t have those episodes all the time. I suppose I just hoped for the best.
For insurance, I purchased language tapes and drove up the New England Thruway repeating French phrases.
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It’s one thing, leaving Long Island and negotiating your way north when you are fresh. Having to thread your way back in after eight hours on the road is more of a challenge.
Somehow I managed.
In the end I think I only did this twice.
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Apart from issues of somnolence, I have always enjoyed a road trip, though the first I can remember was when I was quite small, in England.
This was in the early 50’s, mind. We got stuck in a traffic jam that seemed endless. It was no doubt a bank holiday.
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In Cambodia traffic was not the issue.
There, the concern was road surfaces.
That and the fact that my father was the world’s grumpiest driver.
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Decades later, my brother and I took Dad on a couple of long road trips. Brother would not allow me to drive so I assumed the role of navigator.
It was soon evident that my brother was also inclined to mutter when he drove. Being on the road with the Smith men was interesting!
We arrived in Yellowstone Park on June 4th, in a snowstorm. I was thrilled. They were not!
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Over the years, I spent quite a bit of time on the road with another man who was much more even-tempered.
The interesting thing though, is that he as well as both Smith men are the only ones I ever rode with who got near to running out of fuel while driving and in three situations where it could have been more than a serious inconvenience.
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In my father’s case, we were lost somewhere in a remote part of Cambodia.
My brother nearly got us stranded on a snow-covered road in a part of Oregon that was reminiscent of Deliverance.
And my friend chose to be out of gas up on Mt Rainier. I think we about coasted down the next day.
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Seems to me that the captain is in charge of his ship.
Or supposed to be.
Not so?
I am a patient driver. Spending so many years rushing around Central London using sirens in an ambulance cured me of any fast or reckless driving I might ever have wanted to do. Now I am a peaceful person to be in a car with, but because Julie is an angry and unnecessarily fast driver, I often exasperate her with my patience.
Best wishes, Pete.
And here am I, living almost exactly between Boston and Newark in a country far away from yours…
😃
I vicariously enjoyed the journeys with all of the drivers!
Lots going on here.
Those Bank Holiday traffic jams out of the West Country in the late 1950s were something to be reckoned with. (The Exeter bypass and etc.)
“Remembering it now, I think I must have been mad.” – ain’t that the truth about so much!
Getting off Long Island remains a problem. And as to your question “Who’s in charge?” There is the eternal truth of the answer: “The cats, of course!”
I wish we had so many different roads to our home like you do – the deep colours of Autumn are beautiful. I love road trips and I enjoy reading about your experiences on these trips. The traffic here isn’t bad at all – it’s the potholes and stray animals close to the road that we’re usually worried about.