America's Birthday, Part 2

Judy. I’ve never spent much time in New England or the Mid-Atlantic states, so I was surprised and delighted to discover the authenticity of the towns and cities here. I’m so used to towns looking just like any other—I could be in Atlanta or Denver, and, unless I saw the signs, or spent more than a few days there, wouldn’t know for sure just where I was. The plethora of big-box stores and restaurants makes all those towns seem alike. 

But here in the Northeast, cities seem to celebrate their own individuality. Mom and Pop restaurants, home-grown hardware stores, and patriotic bunting everywhere lead me to believe that this is the home of America’s grit. 

Foothills Restaurant in Sandwich in an 18th century house

As we’ve hiked portions of the Appalachian Trail, we see the massive stones that our forefathers and -mothers dug out of the ground to clear space for crops. The stone walls they built with those rocks still stand, even if some are crumbling a bit. This was no Utopia they came to. The work they put into making it their own was overwhelming to me. They must have really wanted to come here. 

Remnants of a once-thriving village in New York. Rocks pulled out of the ground.

How did they survive this rocky ground?

The South, where I grew up and live, has a different vibe. My ancestors, escaping religious persecution, had warm weather and months to build (in many cases, with enslaved peoples) their homes. Buildings are bigger, more sprawling, and I love that. 

This old general store really is old and general

Burlington, VT, has retained much of its charm

But the Yankee fortitude as seen in the tight, small houses tell me the winters were harsher than mine, and that the stones not dug by autumn would be waiting in spring. The flags and bunting here have a different meaning. Nothing political, just a proud celebration of 250 years in the making of a young country. We may be still figuring everything out, but the fortitude I see here stands strong and brave.

Banners like this were everywhere.

America's Birthday, Part 1

Judy. Like so many people, I had mixed emotions about celebrating Amerca’s 250th birthday. Our country is so divided now, and the stress of returning from visiting abroad is often difficult for us. 

I’m also a cynic about FIFA. It’s a corrupt football (soccer) organization at best, and the way they jacked the ticket prices for this series of matches was just lousy. I decided I’d boycott the whole thing. 

Then, while we were in Boston, the Tartan Army came over to celebrate the Scottish team, putting traffic cones on the heads of statues, drinking Boston dry, playing the pipes at any given moment at any given place, and being truly wonderful tourists. 

George gets a cone in Boston

Lawrence, Kansas, hosting the Algerian team, greeted their arrival wearing green shirts (team color) and singing their national anthem. 

Some guy named Fred from Germany posted about the wonders of all foods American—soda refills, huge portions, and ranch dressing, for crying out loud. Folks were packing bottles in their suitcases to return home. 

Buc-ee’s, Waffle House, Costco, and Walmart, businesses I’m not usually fond of, were sought after and celebrated. 

Americans took photos with, drank with, and talked with fans who were delighted to be here. 

We found ourselves in sports bars all along the East Coast, cheering on our teams with people we’ve never met. 

Yeah, there were some issues, and FIFA is still corrupt, but what I’ll always remember is that the world embraced us, and we, the world. Political junk took a back seat. And for the first time in years I am really proud of my country. 

Happy 250th, America.

On the Bed & Breakfast Trail

Ted. On our road trip Judy and I have stayed in hotels and Airbnbs and in the homes of friends and family. Now we decided to try a different style of accommodation: traditional bed & breakfasts. It seems to me that their popularity has diminished in the Western and Southern US,  but they appear to be flourishing in the Northeast. We enjoy bed & breakfasts because they are typically family-run establishments with less than ten rooms. One gets to visit with the innkeepers as well as other guests, and there are often good stories about the property. They are a bit pricier than hotels but often more comfortable. And of course, the breakfasts are often superb. 

On leaving Lake Sunapee, we traveled south to the Berkshire Mountains of Western Massachusetts. This is a beautiful area with lots of well-preserved old towns. 

Wilder House B&B, Sheffield, MA

Our inn was very near the Appalachian Trail where it crosses East Mountain. 

A tricky bit

The Housatonic Valley

NY's Catskills in the distance

After a relaxing stay with good breakfasts and nice folks, we drove south following the Housatonic River for a while on our way to New York’s fabled Hudson Valley. Along the way we took two short AT hikes. In Connecticut, we strolled along a gentle path from a covered bridge called Bulls Bridge to the point where the Tenmile River enters the Housatonic. 

Housatonic River

Our next stop was at the Bear Mountain Bridge in Garrison, NY. This is where the Appalachian Trail crosses the Hudson so we were able to walk the AT across that famous river. 

Getting back into our faithful truck, Raymond, it was a short drive to another gem of a B&B. The rooms were museum-like and the grounds were beautifully landscaped. 

The Inn at Stony Creek, Warwick, NY

This location also served as a base to take two more hikes on the AT. First up was the Mombasha View Point hike. 

Fitzgerald Falls were pretty pitiful

We finally encountered thru hikers who had started in Georgia

Indian (Ghost) Pipes are a rare sighting

Canadian wildfire smoke partially obscured the view

We then made the short drive across the state line to New Jersey to stroll the Pochuck Boardwalk, the longest elevated boardwalk on the AT (making it wheelchair accessible). Unlike the boardwalk in Atlantic City, this one crosses one of the largest wetlands on the trail. Yes, we needed mosquito spray, but the walk was nice and flat.

The blaze is familiar, not the boardwalk

The smoke was getting worse

This was a birder's paradise

Family and Lake Sunapee

Judy. On our way to Quebec, we stopped for a night to see our niece Ashley, her husband, Peter, and their children Despina and Demitros. Because it was a weekend, they invited us to their house on Lake Sunapee, New Hampshire. We had so much fun that she asked us to visit again on our way back south. 

According to Wikipedia, the lake’s name comes from a Native American word, Su-Napi, which means “goose,” a reference both to the geese living there and the shape of the lake itself—a goose with wings outstretched. It’s a glacial lake, just as clear as it can be, and absolutely gorgeous. 

What a glorious weekend! Ted and the kids loved grilling our dinner, and Ashley and I began catching up on family stories. We rode their boat around the lake, swam, played cornhole, ate, talked, and took the boat to see the fireworks in honor of “Old Home Day.” The lake itself and the adventures were wonderful, but nothing is as good as spending time with family.

Plymouth, New Hampshire

Judy. Leaving Vermont, we drove to Hanover, NH, home to Dartmouth College, for a coffee (at Dirt Cowboy Cafe) and a walk around the campus. 

Darmouth College was chartered in 1769!

Then on to Plymouth, which, like all the towns we see here, is Hallmark’s idea of a typical New England town. We ate lunch, then settled into a hotel just outside of town. 

The next day we drove into Sandwich, chartered in 1763, to have lunch with Mary Bess and Jeff, acquaintances from Athens who have a summer home there. Jeff and Ted play pickleball together, one of the ways we make connections. They told us a bit about the town and took us to a crafts co-op that’s been functioning since the 1920’s as a way for women to make money. 

Foothills Restaurant in downtown Sandwich

Jeff had recommended a boat tour of Squam Lake, where the film On Golden Pond was made. While film locations and trivia were not our interests, we loved the ride around the islands, especially the story of the descendants of Daniel Webster selling vast acres to the state for one dollar. And we finally saw a loon, but couldn’t get a photo because that guy dives fast! 

On the following day we decided to get in our New Hampshire Appalachian Trail hike up Wyatt Hill—the last “easy hike” before the truly difficult White Mountains. Going straight up for a large part of the hike made it tough—don’t these New Englanders believe in switchbacks? But we made it to Wachipauka Pond, which was lovely. And we only met three hikers. 

Yay! We made it!

We celebrated our tenth “Appalachian Trail state” by heading to a glorified snack bar, The Little Red Schoolhouse. Much to our pleasant surprise, they serve lobster rolls. We both indulged and declared them the best yet. 

Are lobsters on the endangered species list yet?

Our third day, we basically rested. Well, Ted did, and I drove into Plymouth to check out the town—and their thrift store, Ladders. It was HUGE—three buildings—and extremely well organized, as was the Habitat for Humanity ReStore we visited the day before. 

Cleanest, biggest, most organized ReStore we've seen!

I enjoyed walking Main Street, ducking into shops featuring local crafts, and catching a few moments of a youth jazz band performance on the town Common. 

The Town Hall was quiet, but there were kids playing on the Common

It is increasing clear why people enjoy coming to New England so much. The towns are historic and charming, and quite different from other parts of the country. This trip has been a real eye opener for me. I like it here. But I’m not sure about the winters…

Iconic covered bridges in New England