The day was spent at a very relaxed pace. Because I did so many things in Boston yesterday, Saturday, I decided that I had seen as much of the city as I wanted to. So, one more time, I modified my original plans and today went south to Plymouth, Massachusetts to see the famous rock.
Plymouth is a nice, small town, but really it has limited attractions for the visitor. Fine, I saw the Plymouth Rock, made famous by the landing of our Pilgrim fathers back in 1620. Nearby, I went to see a replica of the Mayflower (Mayflower II), built back in 1956 and which sailed the England to America vogage in 1957.
I chose not to go aboard the Mayflower but simply took pictures. I didn't think the ship was in good shape, considering it's only 40 years old, and some of the buildings around here, looking much better, were built in the 1700s. Interesting subject this thing of preservation and restoration.
There are some museums in Plymouth, with all trying to make a few dollars here and there. The town charges 25 cents for 15 minutes at a meter and the meters are effective seven days a week. Not too tourist friendly, I didn't think. Later in the day, I drove by a beach, and there they want ten dollars for parking. I can't help but think of Biloxi, Mississippi where all parking was free and the beaches were gorgeous.
I toured the city center of Plymouth and I must admit that it's a nice looking town, very colonial to be sure. My main touring attraction for the day was the Plimouth Plantation, just south of town. The village, as I call it, is a recreation of what the initial Pilgrim colony must have been like, including people ('interpreters') playing the role of various people within the community.
The Plantation begins with a short video to 'set the scene' and then you're free to wander at your own pace. As you encounter interpreters, you're encouraged to ask questions about life in the 1600s and they will respond as best they can. I was really interested in how one interpreter responded, and that is, she gave no recognition of anything which has occurred in modern times and her response was based only on knowledge known in the 1600s. Interesting.
The village has no blacktop walkways, or cobblestones, etc. This is supposed to be a 1620 village, so the 'streets' were simply.....dirt! The buildings were most primitive, some made of timber, stone and stucco, while others were a wooden frame and a crude form of clapboard siding. It looks very believable, that this is how it was in 1620.
I spoke with the shoemaker, the carpenter and various women portraying the homemakers role. I watched women carry water from the village well, using a yoke and two buckets. The village is enclosed within a high timber wall (fence), which served as a primary defense. There is a small fort-like structure within the enclosure, sort of like a keep in many English castles. This fort was two stories with small cannons on the upper floor and the lower floor configurated as a meeting room or church.
This village was not the well-painted colonial homes of the 1700s but a group of very primitive structures. Men and women were inside several houses, cooking or performing some domestic chore. I tried to put myself in their position, with bed, kitchen and living area all being that one, relatively small room (house). I think I like the 1900s, in spite of the problems of the present day.
That was the extent of my touring for the day. I had a good breakfast, read the Boston Globe Sunday paper, took a nap and have had a very relaxing day. Tomorrow, I resume the more hectic pace, off to Portland, Maine, but seeing quite a bit in between the Boston area and there.
I was tempted to drive over to Cape Cod and Providencetown today, but that would have been 120 miles there and another 120 miles to return. I didn't think I would benefit that much from a 250 mile day. One day I'll go to Cape Cod and spend the week, just to make the trip worthwhile.
After our easy Sunday, Tank and I were 'ready for action' today. We didn't have much to begin with because first we had to fight with the early morning Boston rush hour. I stayed on the south side of Boston last night, and today's destination was Portland, Maine. Oh, well, we made it through the rush hour with not too much delay.
Before continuing with today's diary, I thought I would give belated mention to the passing of Charles Kuralt. I don't know how many people have seen him on television and/or read his books, but I had been a long time fan of his. Someone once referred to him as the 'laureate of the common man'. After being a correspondent for CBS, he decided to travel the U.S. and tell of the common man. And boy was he good at it. The nation will miss him and his reporting.
On the north side of Boston, I still had more road wars to fight, because I wanted to take routes like US1, MA60, MA107 and US1A to get to Salem, Massachusetts. Easier said than done. With no one to navigate, there I was trying to dodge high speed commuters, read signs, get into the right or left lane and watch for route signs. Tank was no help. Either he was asleep or just afraind to open his eyes to the morning traffic.
Well, I made it to Salem and found what I was after. Many of you, I'm sure are aware of the witch stories that date back to the late 1600s. It's sad but true, that local people testified that certain women possessed evil powers and practiced witchcraft. I located the House of Seven Gables which is now a historic site, and the Salem Witch Museum which presents information about the incidents of the time.
Salem is a well-maintained, colonial town, with a pleasant village green, but that's the good news. It is an old town and hence very congested with small streets and impatient rush hour drivers. I survived the ordeal and got out of town, headed north into New Hampshire. The high density population of the east make me long for the wide open spaces of Nevada.
While driving today, it suddenly occurred to me that I have not seen very many RVs and campers here in the east. I can't recall but I think the last time I saw a lot of those vehicles was as I travelled down the Missouri valley. Once I got to New Orleans and headed east and then north, I think that's when the number of RVs and campers really trailed off. I have no idea what the statistics are, but maybe most RVs and campers are owned by people in the west. I'll have to look into that one day.
The drive from Boston, to Salem, and then into New Hampshire, was a relatively short one. New Hampshire has most of its land going north and south, crammed in between Maine to the east and Vermont to the west. But, a tiny piece of New Hamphire real estate sticks out to its southeast and touches the Atlantic Ocean. So, for a few miles anyway, I drove through the state, stopping in Portsmouth, just before I crossed the state line to get into Maine.
While in Portsmouth, I visited a World War II submarine called the Albacore. When I drove into the property, I really had to laugh because it looked like a big fat, beached whale. How they got the sub to where it is, I don't know, but there it sits in a big trench, with not a drop of water anywhere. Ah, the life of tourism.
Travelling along the coastline, I certainly saw a lot of boats today, and during the early morning hours today, the tide was out, so some boats were literally sitting in the mud, waiting for high tide and the water to come back.
The other thing I did while in Portsmouth was to stop at the Visitors Center and pick up one of their city maps. I did a driving tour to see the historic district and homes that date back to 1716-1807. They were all in good condition and all contain period furniture. The town itself didn't impress me. It's really not close enough to the ocean, so you don't get the picturesque look of a coastline colonial town.
Back on the road, I entered Maine and took highway 103 to go from town to town along the Maine seacoast. The road was a meandering road, with gentle hills and curves and a 25 mph speed limit. That was okay being that it was still early on a Monday morning. I imagine the weekend traffic would make this a painfully slow place to drive around.
At Kittery, Maine, I stopped to spend a little bit of time touring Fort McClary, built in 1812 and used up until World War I. It was not like any other 'fort' that I have seen. I looked more like a wooden watch tower of some kind. If it got hit by some shell from a ship, I think the wooden structure would turn to rubble quite easily. Oh, well, the view was nice.
It has been on my mind for days now, the idea that most things here on the east coast are 'historic'. That's a politically correct word for 'old'.
The homes in Kittery are mostly smaller, personal residences. Just north of there, you get into communities like York, Ogunquit, Wells and Kennebunkport, and those communities struck me as being more 'upscale'. Many homes have shake siding, and that looks like a popular style for these seacoast buildings.
There certainly are larger homes in the area, some mansion-like. And especially in Ogunquit, there are LOTS of upscale condos, resorts, hotels, inns, etc, catering to the summer crowds. Kittery was quiet but all the other seacoast towns had people all over the place. Summer is big business around here.
At York, I saw a huge trailer park. Not an RV park, but really a park for small camping trailers. I don't mean mobile homes, but camping trailers. York was big on campers, and Ogunquit was flush with higher priced hotels and motels.
At York, I saw my first legitimate light house for the day. I took pictures of the Nubble Lighthouse, but it hardly competes with the 'Head Light' lighthouse I saw late in the day at South Portland.
People were using the beaches along the coastline, but I had personal opinions about what I saw. The beaches are gray in color, looking almost like clay. And if the beach isn't full of this kind of sand, then it is full of rocks and boulders. I wonder how many of these people have been to a 'real' beach, like Gulf Shores, or Hawaii? And I should mention, that even with people on the beach, few were in the water. This is the north Atlantic and I don't imagine the water getss very warm.
I thought it was interesting, the number of restaurants, houses and other buildings, have a lighthouse motif. It reminded me that out west, a lot of restaurants, houses and other buildings have teepees out front. They'll do whatever it takes to draw attention.
At Wells, I had read about their antique auto museum, so I stopped there for a while. What they have really looks good. The cars are packed into the relatively small building, so that hurts the display a bit, but the quality of what is on display was worth the $4.00 admission. I spoke with the gal who seemed to be in charge for the day and talked about the museums I had seen in South Dakota.
At Kennebunkport, I drove along the ocean drive, seeing the fine homes along the water. Among them was a very nice rock church called Saint Anns, and it too had its envious spot on the coastline. I finally got to former President Bush's summer home, asked if he was in, he wasn't, so I left my card (I know, I know). He does have a beautiful home, in spite of the secret service buildings at the entry way.
Before leaving Kennebunkport, I spent quite a bit of time at the Trolley Museum. This place has a legitimate collection of old city streetcars, some in very good, operating condition and others in need of restoration money. I grew up in Cleveland, Ohio, during the war years and I travelled all over the city by streetcar. It really was a neat way to get around.
The Trolley Museum offers a one mile ride on one of several cars they have operating. I took video pictures of the clang-clanging car, the track, the conductor and just the whole bit.
As the day wore on, I wanted to see a bit of Portland, Maine before turning in for the night, so I aimed for South Portland and something called the Portland 'Head Light' lighthouse. It was great to see this lighthouse. It sits out on a craggy pile of rocks, is in excellent condition, and is fully functional. I took many pictures and also visited their gift shop to pick up information about the structure.
At the gift shop, I had a fun time with the two gals that worked there because we talked about the "Maine Alphabet". It does not contain the letter "R". So words like 'card' are pronounced 'cahd', or the words 'bumper sticker' would be pronounced 'bumpah stickah'. I laughed, but I think they enjoy telling that story every day.
So, time for supper and a good nights sleep. Tomorrow, I really start my homeward journey by going west for the first time. It will be a short driving day through a bit of Maine and then the rest of the day I'll spend in upstate New Hampshire.
Have you ever gotten mad at yourself? Well, today was my day for that. I lost my car keys! More about that later.
Knowing that the drive from Portland, Maine to Littleton, New Hampshire was going to be a short, easy one, I dilly-dallied getting up and about. After a full breakfast and a read of this morning's USA Today, Tank and I set off for New Hampshire.
As we drove out of Portland, Maine, we saw many inbound commuters, who apparently live in the country but work in town. No matter to us, because we were outbound and our traffic was very light. I enjoyed seeing rural Maine wake up as we passed through the little towns headed to the state line. Maine has only a little over one million population so neither the big cities or the countryside appear to be crowded.
The temperature has been notably cooler the past few days, but then this is Maine and we're further north than at any time during this trip. At 8:00AM, the July morning temperature was a cool 59 degrees.
I saw a sign in North Parsonfield pointing to a 'historic' (old) covered bridge. I checked it out and boy that bridge is in sad shape. I hope I see some of the better ones during my trip. When I think of New England, I usually think of covered bridges. I have plans to see a cluster of them in northeastern Ohio and then again in Oregon.
Western Maine is pretty flat country, with small farms. As soon as I got to the New Hampshire state line, it seemed the mountains just sprang up out of the ground. New Hamshire is like West Virginia. Trees and mountains, mountains and trees. Other than summer and winter tourism, I'm not sure what industry or economic base they have in northern New Hampshire.
I had to stop and take some pictures along the way. I saw a warning sign for Moose which I had never seen before, and I also stopped at a shop that does huge animal carvings from six to eight foot chunks of tree trunks. My picture with a wooden bear should turn out pretty good.
I noticed marshland in Massachusetts and today I saw somewhat the same thing in New Hampshire. Here I am picking on Louisiana and Mississippi and even the northern states have their stagnant puddles in the back woods.
Another observation of mine, while driving in rural New England is how neatly cared for the cemeteries are (or is that cemeterys?). Anyway, the cemetery in most small New England towns show considerable respect for the dead, with manicured lawns, flags, flowers, and such. Speaking of flags, I have never seen so many homes fly the American flag as I have here in New England.
Many of the motels, inns, bed and breakfast, etc, not only are good looking facilities, but their signs and road advertising is very well done. I think they must be making money from winter skiers and summer tourists.
There are campgrounds throughout New Hampshire, it seems, and I certainly saw a lot of hikers and back packers today. I have a good pair of hiking boots with me on this trip and it's a good thing too, because I sure needed them for my morning's hike on White Mountain.
I read about Arethusa Falls, and I chose to dedicate about three hours this morning to hiking up there and back. It's in the White Mountain range of New Hampshire. Some tour guides stay the hike is easy to moderate. Hah! That writer should be made to write a thousand times, "I will not tell a fib" and them made to walk the trail blindfolded!
The trail is not for pre-schoolers or people who are not very fit. It is a very demanding trail, with a lot of up and down, and some parts of the trail are inches away from drops of several hundred feet. The trail is full of bowling ball size rocks and tree roots as big as your arm. But after hiking and climbing for an hour to get to the falls, the experience is your reward. The falls really are neat. I had both of my cameras with me, and my tripod, so I took a number of pictures. Tank took one of me waving from the base of the falls.
I stopped at several 'flumes' in the area. Imagine granite boulders as big as your car and water over the years has carved a trough right through it. These flumes are impressive and it reminds us what Mother Nature and falling water can do over time.
In the Bretton Woods area, I stopped to photograph the Mount Washington Hotel, which is a very large, very grand hotel, sitting prominently in the middle of a huge valley, with densely forested mountains on all sides. Bretton Woods was the site of the 1944 multi-nation meeting which agreed to the so-called 'gold standard'.
Before going to Littleton, New Hampshire, my destination for the day, I thought I would drive south just a bit and see some sights at the Franconia State Park. I didn't want to take the aerial tram to the top of the mountain (I rode the tram to the top of Stone Mountain in Atlanta). I viewed the rock outcropping called the 'Old Man' but after seeing a lot of rock in the west, the Old Man didn't impress me.
So, off I went to see something called "The Basin". Here, a stream of gentle water builds up speed and power and finally comes crashing into a granite bowl of rocks, called The Basin. Rapidly flowing water, swirling among granite boulders is an impressive sight. I took 35mm and video pictures and I really enjoyed viewing the whole thing, from end to end.
But......, on return to my car, I discovered I had no car keys. It is not like me to lose car keys. I don't think I have ever lost a set of car keys in my life! Ah, but the good news! I have an extra set of keys in my car. Fool, you say? What good are another set of keys in a locked car? Well, (I fooled you), my Ford Explorer has a touch key pad on the driver's door which gave me access to the the car and the extra set of keys.
Even though there were one or two other sights I might have chosen to see, my next objective was to find a hardware store that makes keys. I found one in Littleton and now I'm back to having two sets with me. But....., I am mad at myself for losing my keys. It's not like me to lose anything.
So, I'm settled for the evening. Tomorrow's objectives include getting an oil change and driving through Vermont enroute to the New York state line and a place called Ticonderoga.
What a washout this morning was! Rain and more rain. They call Vermont the Green Mountain State. Well, I thought New Hampshire had more green mountains and the ones I saw today in Vermont, may be green, but boy are they wet.
I had hopes of sightseeing in places like Danville, where there is a Morgan Horse Farm, but who wants to be out in the field looking at horses (assuming the owners would have them out). The Morgan horse is a breed, famous for its size and strength.
In Montpelier, I did stop to see the capitol. As usual, I asked if the governor was in, he wasn't, so I left a nasty message. No, not really, but I did leave my card. Montpelier is not a very big town, considering it's the state capitol. For instance, the biggest hardware store in town is just down the street from the capitol building. I saw the sheriff strolling across State Street, waving to the local folks who had stopped at the cafe for their morning coffee. Talk about a small town atmosphere.
In Waterbury, I had plans to tour the cider mill there, which supposedly produces a half million gallons of cider per year, but the rain put dampers on that idea too. I went onto Burlington in hopes to spend time seeing the city center, and also to go to the shores of Lake Champlain, but the rain continued to fall.
As I drove through Vermont, I saw a lot of traditional white with black trim buildings; churches, homes and other buildings. But I also noticed that yellow with white trim is popular for homes. In most towns there certainly is the traditional red brick building, usually a school, library or local government building. Again, in spite of the rain, there were things to see.
I was reminded of an Agatha Christie book I read some time ago, called "Come, Tell Me How You Live". She spent some number of years in what we call the Mideast today, living with her husband who was an archealogist. The gist of her book was to explain to people her living conditions in that area during the 1920s, rather primitive compared to civilized England of the day.
My point is, if one could stop and talk at every farm or home along a road such as I travelled today, I wonder what kind of stories you would hear. Why do they live where they do, what do they do for a living, do they like the area, and so on. People are here for a reason and I'm just curious as to the why and the wherefore.
I gave into the rain and decided to look for a Ford dealer, have my oil changed, tires rotated and balanced, and use my time a bit more productively. The location was good because it was on the south side of Burlington, after which I went to Shelburne, Vermont and saw the museum there. Basically, the museum is a large piece of property to which various things have been relocated. It's a great place to visit and they claim some people spend several days there.
The things which interested me in particular were the Circus Building which had a single display of a model circus parade that must have been two football fields long, really! I enjoyed the railroad station which is a relocated and well preserved railway station, freight depot and an engine an one luxury train car.
The steamboat Ticonderoga is on the property, not in water, but on display in any case. I enjoyed the general store, the dual purpose church and assembly hall, the covered bridge and more. Now, realize that all of this is genuine, old and relocated from somewhere in New England to be preserved in Shelburne. As a said, a great place to visit.
The rain tried to resume in the afternoon, with light sprinkles, but not only did I stay dry at the Shelburne Museum, but I got to my day's destination of Ticonderoga, New York, checked into my motel, and still had a dry time visiting Fort Ticonderoga, which overlooks Lake Champlain.
Fort Ticonderoga was built by the French in 1755, taken over by the British in 1759, and the Americans in 1775. For a structure that is over 200 years old, I thought it was in pretty good shape. Within the fort, there are many museum collections of artifacts dating back to the 1700s.
Tomorrow I will drive through the Adirnondacks, do some sightseeing in the Rome, New York area and then aim for central New York state, where I'll spend the night.
After yesterday's downpour, it was pleasant to wake up to sunshine this morning, albeit a bit cool. I had long pants and a jacket while touring the Shelburne Museum yesterday, and that's how I began today as well. The temperature at 6:00AM was 55 degrees and when I got to higher elevations later in the morning, the temperature dropped to around 49 degrees. What happened to summer? Did I miss it?
Yesterday's rain caused a lot of fog in the Adirondack Mountains, which I traversed this morning, getting from Ticonderoga to Rome, New York. After that, I was down to a lower elevation, out of the mountains and headed west to Rochester, New York, my destination for the day.
I noticed a lot of homes in the mountains of upstate New York have piles of wood for burning. It could be just for fireplaces, but with the quantities I saw, I wonder if many of these homes use wood as a primary source of heat in cool and cold weather.
Another observation, from Ticonderoga to Rome, and yesterday all through Vermont, is the number of homes and other buildings that are displaying the American flag. One could say that this is July and many of these were hung for Independence Day, but I'm not sure. I think this is a very patriotic part of the country.
Many people have told me previously that I should tour the Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York, and today was my day. Well, I'm not sure what my reaction is. The Adirondack area is sparsely populated, so don't look for too many small towns, much less medium or big towns. I gather that main 'industry' up here is tourism, either with winter sports or summer holidays.
There are many, many small lakes and a few good sized ones in the Adirondacks. I saw a lot of boats moored in the water, which I assume would be in use during the day. I wondered what the temperature of the water might be. My motel in Boston didn't have any heat in their pool and the water was like 60 degrees - pretty cool for swimming.
There are a lot of cabins for rent in the Adirondacks and a lot of resort like parks that seem to cater to groups of people. In spite of my seeing these, traffic was very light this morning so my drive through the Adirondacks moved swiftly. That is, except for two spots.
I travelled on highways 9N, 8 and 365 to get from Ticonderoga to Rome, and I ran into two separate areas where the road was being redone, and at present, there was 'no' road. I have never seen such a thing on a U.S. highway. I didn't need four wheel drive, but I'm glad I had it because the rain yesterday created some muddy, slippery roads. Thank goodness these two areas were just a couple of miles each.
When I reached Rome, New York, I stopped for a full breakfast before beginning my touring. Tank was glad for the stop, because he didn't have to listen to more 'high brow' music. Yesterday was a replay of the Willie Nelson CD album, so he was happy then. But today, playing "Parlami d'Amore Mariu", "Torna a Surriento" and "Un Bel di" wasn't his thing.
After breakfast, I toured Fort Stanwix there in Rome. It is a large fort, built entirely from wood, back in 1758. The fort has a number of unusual features that I have never seen on any fort. It has a moat, which is not unusual, but the walls are lined with spear-tipped poles, some pointed up and others pointed out, to make it difficult for any invader to attempt to scale the walls.
Around the perimeter of the fort are quarters for officers and men, and the various arsenals to keep gun powder and such. The roof of these perimeter buildings were made out of wood, and totaled three feet thick. Imagine wooden logs that are one foot square and then some length. These logs were piled three high to form the roof of the perimeter buildings, and were considered to make them bomb proof.
I also visited the Erie Canal Village in Rome. My primary purpose was to see the canal itself, but once you pay your admission, you get to see their entire park. The village is very similar to the Shelburne Museum I saw yesterday in Vermont, but when it comes to quality, the Shelburne Museum wins easily.
The Erie Canal Village has a replica of a canal boat (barge), and they do offer short rides down the canal, being pulled by horses along the adjacent path. I didn't wait for the first boat ride of the day, and was content just with taking pictures of the canal and the boat.
The village has a variety of old buildings which have been relocated from their original sites. I first visited the blacksmith's shop because at the moment, they were putting new shoes on one of their horses. After that, I took a look at just about everything on the property - the one room schoolhouse, the church and assembly hall, a Victorian house, the New York State Cheese Museum and more. I find it all quite interesting.
From there, I used the Interstate to save time getting to Rochester. I wanted to see the George Eastman House and the International Museum of Photography and Film before calling it a day. Add to that, I had a dinner date with friends of mine for the evening. George Eastman founded the Kodak Company.
The house was built in 1902 and is very large and spacious. None of the ornate interior decorations such as the Vanderbilt Breakers estate in Newport, Rhode Island, but simply a large, functional home. The gardens would please anyone with a green thumb or those who simply like a pleasant setting. The photographic museum has old cameras and camera equipment on display, presentation rooms for photographic art, and exhibits having something to do with photography. I liked the whole place.
So, another day, and more memories for me to file away. Tomorrow, I'm off to the Niagra Falls area, with some other sites on my agenda. I'll keep you posted.
I didn't sleep well last night. I had to wait up for Tank to get in from his dinner date. Apparently, he met some female called "E.T." (her name was Erin, I think) and they had dinner at one of the highly recommended restaurants in downtown Rochester, New York. I think he mistook ET's wrinkly face as having some relationship to an armadillos hide. Tank and ET not only enjoyed themselves, but I understand they created a bit of sensation at the Edibles (restaurant).
Anyway, we were up as early as seemed reasonable (later than usual) and on the road again. No, we listened to Willie Nelson several days ago, so today was operettas. Tank slept through it all while I drove from Rochester to Niagra Falls.
I had an easy time getting to Niagra falls and my timing was good. I got there, to the main parking lot, just about 8:30AM. The information desk was not crowded so I asked all my questions about what to see and where, and off I went to the observation tower. I spent the entire morning on the American side of the falls, but friends tell me there are great views from the Canadian side.
The observation tower gives you a good introduction to the falls, which way the river flows and where things are located. Just as quiz, do you know which way the water flows? North or south?
After going to the top of the tower, I next went to the bottom of the tower, which gives you a good initial view from the eastern base of the American Falls. Pretty wet down there, but a good photo opportunity. Surprisingly, there were few people down there, when I was there around 9:00AM. That was okay with me.
So, back up the tower and then a walk to the American Falls. They say that about 75,000 gallons of water flow across the falls per second! Think about that! And when you look at the turbulent, fast moving water, you believe, you believe! The water is very clear and although I could not touch it, it looked very cold. The water flows north, by the way.
I took video and 35mm pictures from every angle, and Tank took several pictures of me at the falls. The one at the American Falls came out pretty good, but the mist at the Canadian Falls was so heavy, that one of me didn't come out very well. But I got great shots of both falls, the swiftly moving Niagra River, water going over the falls, and water hitting the rocks at the bottom of the falls.
There's a tug boat kind of boat that you can pay your fare and ride to the bottom of the Canadian Falls. I took photos of people getting soaked on that boat but chose not to take the ride myself. Why get soaked again, since after leaving the American Falls, the next thing I did was take the tour to the bottom of the American Falls, called the Cave of the Winds, and in spite of having a rain slicker with a hood, you come away soaked.
When you pay your admission for the Cave, you trade your shoes for a pair of leather-like mocassins, plus the rain slicker. They tell you in advance that you're going to get wet, and if you can, you should roll up your pant legs. Swimsuits would be more appropriate.
But the trip to the bottom of the American Falls was great, absolutely great. They take you down by elevator, and then to a series of stairs which get progressively wetter and closer to the physical power of the water coming over the falls. The first level you stop at is about the only safe place to take pictures, because it gets wetter after that.
The highlight of the walk around the base of the falls is a wooden deck they call the Hurricane level. The water is literally thundering down the rocks to the bottom of the falls and you feel its force and you cannot avoid the spray which hits you from all sides. By the way, for the timid, the series of wooden walkways has a bypass for those not wanting to stand at the Hurricane level.
I took 35mm slide pictures at all levels by the Hurricane level, and video pictures only at the first and last levels. I hope I captured the spirit of the adventure. I had my tripod with me, dangling off my belt, and under my rain slicker. Somewhere along the way, I lost one of the knobs that tightens the tripod, and that is what I went shopping for this afternoon. I didn't find a correct replacement but I did find a bolt to substitute until I can find the right size knob.
So, after the excitement of being down at the base of the American Falls, I took time for a snack and then went off to view the Canadian Falls. The Canadian Falls are the larger falls and they have the interesting shape of a horseshoe. Lots of rainbows around the falls, by the way. I think all the visitors were enjoying themselves and their day at the park.
When I parked my car around 8:30AM, I was probably the first in the parking lot, but when I left during the noontime, there were cars justing looping around and around, looking for a place to park. I had just as easy a time leaving the falls as I had getting there. Passing through the downtown Buffalo area, I tried to pull off to take a picture of the huge, high bridge from Fort Erie, in Canada, to Buffalo on the American side, but I couldn't find a good spot. So, I took an unplanned, short tour of downtown Buffalo. I have been to Buffalo on business before, so it was sort of interesting to be back as a tourist.
Leaving Buffalo, I purposely chose to use NY route 5 to get to Northeast, Pennsylvania, my destination for the day. That was a good choice because route 5 follows the Lake Erie shoreline and it is quite scenic. Today was a bright, sunny day and that made looking at the lake that much more enjoyable. Lake Erie has taken some bad raps in the past twenty years or so, but it really is a fine lake now, enjoyed by boaters, fisherman, swimmers and just sightseers like me.
When I got to Northeast, I checked into my motel for the night, but then went in search of a replacement bolt for my tripod. I immediately found the 'kind of thing' I was looking for but not the exact size. So, I just bought an ordinary 5/16ths bolt until I can find the correct knob. If you have a tripod, then you know they usually have about three or four knobs to secure the tripod in various positions. One of mine fell out during my trip to the bottom of the American Falls. Oh, well, what else can happen on this trip?
Tomorrow I'm off to Cleveland, Ohio, where I spent most of my growing years. I was born at home at what was then a rural area called Parma. After World War II, Parma became engulfed as part of the post-war years' expansion of cities into suburbs. Parma is on the southwest side of Cleveland, where the airport is located.
I was going to spend two days in the area, but I have curtailed that to one day, because Sunday I'm going to spend out on an island in Lake Erie visiting some old friends who have a house out there. So, my one day in Cleveland is going to be a busy one because I want to see a lot of the old memories. I'll report on that tomorrow.
Saturday was a very full day and I enjoyed all of it. I put on quite a few miles in northeastern Ohio, sightseeing the covered bridges in Ashtabula County, and then spent the rest of the day in my original home town of Cleveland, Ohio.
Driving from Northeast, Pennsylvania (which is actually in the north- western part of the state) into Ohio was very easy considering I was on the road at 6:00AM this morning. The terrain has been flat since I drove out of the Adirondack Mountains in New York several days ago. The most interesting thing about the terrain these past few days is, first, I can see the terrain (no tunnel of trees) and two, I'm surprised at how many vinyards there are in northwestern New York, Pennsylvania and northeastern Ohio.
As I drove into Ohio, I couldn't help but think of my growing years living in the Cleveland area. I am the youngest of three boys and there is a seven and nine year gap between me and my older brothers. I was almost an 'only child', so when my brothers were in their teens, and my mother wanted to go somewhere, I was the little guy she had to take along. But, that's how I inherited my love of travel. My mother was a very independent woman, who like to travel, and did so at the drop of the proverbial hat. "Bobby, let's go", she would say, and away we went.
My point is, during my early years, I rode with my mother on the highways of the day, mostly two lane roads with little of the convenience or comfort most roads give us today. That's why I say, my morning's ride today was very easy.
As soon as I crossed the state line into Ohio, I began my planned itinerary to see the covered bridges throughout Ashtabula County. I saw eight bridges, six of which are actively in use today. I found it all very interesting, but the covered bridges of New England are still more colorful. To see the bridges today, me and the Ford Explorer went down many dirt and gravel roads, but it really was fun. I took pictures of all the bridges I saw.
While driving the back roads, I saw Amish people travelling by horse and buggy, and saw their wooden craft shops with items for sale. If I were closer to home, I would have stopped in to browse and probably buy some things. I could use a new picnic table for my back yard.
I put on about 75 miles just touring, looking for the bridges I saw. After I saw enough, I resumed my western course, headed for the Cleveland area. As I got close, I turned into neighborhoods that to this day hold fond memories for me.
On the east side of Cleveland, and right along the Lake Erie waterfront, is a community called Bratenahl. It looks as good today as my memory says it did 44 years ago (I left Cleveland in 1953 for all intents and purposes). Bratenahl has many fine, older homes, some of which are large enough to be called mansions.
I recall my mother allowing me to drive when I first got my license, and on one day we drove through the winding streets of Bratenahl. At the time, its Lakeshore Boulevard was 'the' main route to get from downtown Cleveland to the very popular amusement park of the day, Euclid Beach. I wasn't very good at holding my lane on those winding streets, and some drivers yelled their compliments to me (I remember to this day).
I was born in Parma, Ohio, on Cleveland's southwest side, but spent most of my growing years on the east side of town, around 72nd and St.Clair (for those of you who know anything about Cleveland). As such, I spent a lot of time playing baseball at Gordon Park, at the foot of 72nd and Lake Erie. I visited the old ball diamonds and just stood there, thinking of a lot of things that happened on those sandlots. I won't bore you just now.
The beach that used to be at Gordon Park is no longer there. Lake Erie went through a period of water pollution, and I guess the city gave up on having a public beach there. What used to be a private boat club is now a public boat ramp and that is all still there. Very busy today, I might add.
Near Gordon Park is an industrial area, which was active in my day, but seems to have fallen silent now. Park Drop Forge was a company that worked seven days a week and their forges made so much noise it would give an earthwake competition.
I visited my home of 1939-1953 and I must say, with all the urban decay going on in Cleveland, my old house looks very good. And so does my deceased wife's home on Ida Street. I took pictures of both houses, my old neighborhood and all sorts of things. I even took a picture of the Victory Diner, which everyone called "The Greek's" back then. They served the best chili dogs I have ever tasted, and as a teenager, I could demolish three at one go.
Gone are the neighborhood movie theaters, the Eclair on 76th Street, the Yale on 82nd Street and the Norwood down on 62nd Street. The church I was married in seems to be holding its own.
I went to see my old elementary school and it looks 50 years older. I took pictures of the front and also the playground in the back. I can still see Dolores Bencina, the best dressed girl in my class, not playing as actively in the school yard, as the rest of us 'working class kids'. Names just popped into my head, but I won't bother you with that just now.
My junior high school is no longer on the property but a relatively new housing development is. The so-called Hough area of Cleveland was the site of racial tension and considerable property damage in the mid-1980s and in 1989, the school was replaced with today's housing development.
My high school is gone too, but in its place is a very new replacement school, which looks quite impressive. I only hope the kids of today appreciate what they have. I appreciated the 'old' school of my day.
I lived in a very ethnic neighborhood, so I revisited places like Croatian Home (my mother and father immigrated from Crotia, Yugoslavia around 1910). I also went to see Slovenian Home, also on St.Clair. In my day, the really big dances were always held there. The St.Clair Recreation Center is still going strong, where I used to swim in the indoor pool, even in the dead of winter.
In downtown Cleveland, I parked the car and toured the Public Square area, went to take pictures of the Cleveland Indian's new ballpark at Jacobs Field, and then went to see the new Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. The Cleveland Police had their hands full today because today and tomorrow there is a big grand prix going on at the downtown airport called Burke Field.
I drove to the southwest side of Cleveland (Parma actually) and visited my mother's grave site. I passed signs for the Cleveland Zoo, which is really in Brooklyn, Ohio. I remember how I 'encountered' clay for the first time, on one visit to the zoo, and on another visit to the zoo, the car I was riding in 'drove out' of a rainfall, just like stepping out of a shower. When you're under ten, these things can be important.
I went to see the house I was born in and it still standing, maintained quite well for a house built around 1930. And odd as it may seem, a bit further down the same street is a brand new, very large home. My father built our home, small as it was, and it has been 'modernized' a bit by owners along the way. The house on Marlborough means a lot to me.
So, today comes to a close, and tomorrow I'll be off quite early to drive to Catawba, Ohio in time to catch the first ferry boat of the day, which will take me to Middlebass Island, where my friends have their summer home. I won't take the Explorer across, so I'll have to make a 'take' list tonight, for things I'll need for my one day island outing. The last time I was out there, Dave Leonhard wasn't feeling too good, so Evie and I spent a rainy Saturday afternoon, drinking three bottles of wine, flying paper airplanes and participating in the sing along that was roaring at the winery.
I'll keep you posted.....
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