It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.
I called it "The Perfect Storm".
Seven people (three kids under age eight, two parents, and two grandparents) driving 1600 miles in six days through the New England countryside all packed into a minivan full of Diet Coke, Root Beer, licorice, Funyuns, Snickers, Almond Joys, Kit-Kats, potato chips, apples, bananas, and E.L. Fudge cookies. Stirred together, this was a recipe for disaster-- or at least some interesting reactions. Smoke and heat was inevitable. Spontaneous combustion was a possibility. Things could explode or fizzle. We just didn't know before we left what, if anything, might happen.
But, in the end, we all arrived back home as planned, and the only items missing were two of the three credit cards we took with us (one MasterCard lost in NYC, and an American Express lost in Palmyra) and a large bottle of expensive shampoo, probably left in Massachusetts.
On a scale of 1 to 10 (1 being a total Titanic-style disaster, and 10 being a trip to heaven and back), I would rate this a 7.3. While we did get very wet, we didn't drown, we didn't lose any kids, we did not sink any boats or lose valuable possessions, and we did not cause or become part of any natural or man made disasters, yet we did not sense any angelic influence, either... aside from our kids behavior (told below), or me driving through Manhattan without causing a major international incident.
Chrissa did not accompany us on this trip. Fearing a scholastic tidal wave upon her return, she decided that missing school just wasn't worth it. So, she stayed with some friends.
There were a lot of unexpected twists in this little journey of ours. First, I (Cade) did all the driving... all 1600 miles of it. Dad "conveniently" forgot his driver's license and Michelle was too scared to drive in Manhattan
or Boston or any points in between. I smell a conspiracy, but I can't prove it. Second, despite our parking mishaps in NYC, I did not get cussed at or flipped off during the entire trip. I was a bit saddened by this, as there is nothing funnier than a good old fashioned NYC bird-finger pointed at you-- and you expect something like this in NYC, just like you would expect to eat a potato when visiting Idaho. I did get honked at once in Manhattan, but that is to be expected. So, all driving went well, that is, until we arrived in Stockbridge Massachusetts when a little old lady gave me the Stink Eye and a noticeable disapproving shake of her head while I was trying to maneuver a U-turn as she was trying to turn left around me. I'm not a great lip-reader, but from what I could sense, she mumbled a few words at me from within her car as she leered at me through cataract-covered corneas. Third, our kids did surprisingly-- no, astonishingly-- well in the car during this trip. Lacking was the usual fighting, punching, pulling, biting, kicking, throwing, and tattling that typically describes a Jensen road trip. The only explanation was that aliens invaded our home before we left and took possession of them for the following week. I'm not entirely certain this happened, but I can find no other explanation. Only alien supernatural powers could pull off something like this. Nevertheless, I thank them.
The New England leaves were also unexpectedly absent. Prior to our arrival, a strong storm had blown through, knocking off many of the leaves that we had hoped to see during our travels. Ironically, looking back, the New England leaves were not as good as they are right now in our own town of Cranberry... and, despite searching for lighthouses, the only one we found came to us by chance... in Erie Pennsylvania, of all places, as we pulled off the highway during our trip back home to take a potty break-- an hour north of our house .
And, finally, while we shouldn't be surprised at all, we were followed around New England by a little black rain cloud that showered on us at every possibility. Actually, it was a BIG rain cloud, and the rain wasn't nice, either. Similarly, last year we visited Hershey and Lancaster PA with mom and dad... and it rained on us there, too. I'm beginning to sense a trend.
We left PA and went to NYC our first day, taking 6 hours of early morning driving to get there. Dad claims the little car on our GPS that represents our car going down the road had spent time in the black (meaning we were off-road), in the red (meaning we were in opposing traffic), and in the blue (meaning we were in surrounding waterways), but I was too delirious to pay much attention. I vaguely remember the little car being upside down at times, and actually driving backwards. But I can't be certain. I was SO incredibly tired that I can't remember much of that drive.
NYC was everything expected. We only had plans to visit the Statue of Liberty (Ethan wanted to see it as proof that America was "real") and Ground Zero. However, our adversities started as soon as we crossed into New York state when, upon arrival at the Holland Tunnels that takes you under the Hudson River and into NYC, we had to pay an $8 toll. We then had to pay another $5 toll when I failed to turn off the road at the right exit and had to make a U-turn to get back into the city. That's $13 for getting lost, if you are keeping track.
The first parking spot, pre-determined, turned out to be an apartment complex. The second turned out to be a coat closet (although they did have cars in it, I'm certain that it was never designed for cars in the first place, and after being told it would cost me $55 to park in the closet for 4 hours, I had to perform an unprecedented 73-point turn to get the car back out of the closet in hopes of finding something better). The third turned out to be a bigger closet-- maybe pantry size, but not much larger, which we decided to use for the small fee of $29.
The Statue of Liberty was great. Ethan and Preston really liked it. Of course, with all the added security these days, we probably spent as much time waiting in the security line as we did on the ferry to and from Liberty Island. But, we got some great pics of the family there. Ethan is now only semi-convinced America is real... he has to see a bald eagle, wild, before he is fully convinced. I'm concerned that upon seeing a bald eagle, his final demand will be physical proof of Bigfoot or something.
Ground Zero was interesting. I had been to the World Trade Center towers 7 or so years before the attacks-- I remember a much bigger site. Ground Zero appears so small. But, I'm pleased to report that construction on the Freedom Tower appears to be moving forward, although there doesn't appear to be much done considering the 9 years since they all fell.
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| Comparison photo at roughly the same location |
Our first overnight location was in Plymouth Massachusetts, so we had to get out of Manhattan and on the road to Plymouth as soon as possible. That drive took us through Connecticut and Rhode Island, but we made it to our beach house in decent time. The next morning, we backtracked a bit to Newport Rhode Island, an ocean side resort town that, in my opinion, was the best town we saw on the entire trip. We "toured" the tourist spots, saw all the super-expensive yachts in the harbor, and then toured Breaker House-- a small (70,000 square feet) home once owned by Cornelius Vanderbilt in the late 1800s. By comparison, Corny's brother, George, owned the much larger Biltmore home in Asheville NC (which Michelle and I have also toured) at 130,000 square feet... but who is counting? Sibling rivalry must apparently end at or around 30,000 square feet. Besides, Breaker House was Corny's "summer cottage", so we can certainly understand why it was only 70,000 square feet-- who needs all that extra space? Corny's home consists of gobby architecture and ultra-expensive ego, just like George put into Biltmore. But, we loved it.
Amazing-- the skill of some craftsman in putting something like this together. The Breakers House offers self-tours with audio guides that describes what you are seeing as you walk through the home, and the kids got their own headset that was set to a kid's rendition of what they were looking at. Of course, all the original areas are roped off so you cannot sit in Corny's throne or in his hand carved-out-of-a-single-block-of-marble tub, but that didn't stop Amberlee from crashing the ropes and rocking in one of his chairs located on the second floor loggia. We got the Stink Eye from the guard, but I quickly snatched her up and apologized. While this mansion is out-of-this-world magnificent, it was hard to think about 133 Hazelwood Drive in Cranberry Township PA as a "home"-- while we are hard at work painting walls with $25 a gallon Ace Hardware paint, Corny covered his walls with platinum leaf and Spanish hand-stippled leather, or a bazillion pieces of hand-cut marble laid into a 200 square foot Renaissance style mosaic on the ceiling.
Newport had many other mansions of comparable status, but we didn't have the time, money, or self-esteem to go through those. We ate dinner at Buskers, an Irish pub, the joke being we were probably the only people that year who walked into the pub and ordered WATER as our beverage.
I absolutely loved Newport. I plan to revisit it as soon as we get the opportunity.
Our beach house was nice... a small place in Plymouth Mass that was a stone's throw from the Atlantic. We had the whole house to ourselves and stayed in it for 3 nights. Kudos to Michelle for finding another gem to stay in.
The next day took us to Plimoth Plantation (yes, the spelling is correct) and Cape Cod. Plimoth was a bit of a disappointment to me personally. Others liked it. I'm not sure if it was the rain or what-- but there wasn't a whole lot going on at the time. Its a village with an Indian section (we were instructed to call them by their tribal name-- Wampanaog-- but Indian was easier to pronounce) and a colonist section. Actors played their roles in costume and we were supposed to mill about and talk with them. There weren't a whole lot of actors present. So, with the rain and mud, it made for an overpriced stop. The kids liked it, though, and Ethan was quick to ask the Indians how they caught their fish, how the colonists cooked their food, and how many cannons they had to protect themselves (this cannon question was a common question at virtually all stops along our route through New England). Also of interest was the tour bus full of English tourists who so pompously questioned the Wampanaog about their relationship with the much wiser colonists, etc. All I can say about Englishmen: they have big noses and egos to match.
After Plimoth, we went to Plymouth Rock (a forgery if I ever saw one... I mean, seriously, can anyone truly say that THAT rock was the same rock that the Pilgrim stepped onto roughly 400 years ago??) and the Mayflower II. The Mayflower was a great experience... again, actors portrayed crew and Pilgrims, so we got to tour the ship and ask questions. Amazingly, only one Pilgrim died on that journey... the English colonist that we talked to said this particular guy was "taken by God because of his sins". Funny stuff. Personally, I would have never made it out of England very far-- I would either be taken for my sins or simply throw myself overboard at the thought of being on that ship for as long as they were.
Cape Cod was surprisingly HUGE. While we had plans to drive up the Cape to the very tip, we decided to turn back after an hour-and-a-half drive got us only half way there. So we stopped at some local towns, visited the cold, rainy beaches to collect seashells, and got some seafood at a small place in Falmouth. Cape Cod is way too big to spend only an afternoon in... you really need at least one full day.
The next day, we "toured" Boston. I say "tour" because the weather had other plans for us, unfortunately. We managed to tour the USS Constitution (i.e., "Old Ironsides", the famous battleship of the early American navy), which was fantastic. Again, Ethan got to ask all he wanted about the cannons. We then started on the Freedom Trail through Boston, but only got as far as Bunker Hill when, ironically, we were forced to retreat to our car due to the incessant rain. The rest of Boston was toured from within the car. We got to see a lot, but I want to see Boston again when the weather is a bit more cooperative. The historical parts of Boston are so narrow (the streets) that I literally had to drive part-way on the sidewalk just to let cars pass me. Early Bostonians must have been much skinnier that we were... which really isn't too far a stretch of the imagination.
From Boston, we went to Salem Massachusetts hoping to see witches and people hanging by their necks from trees or being burned at the stake or being crushed under a pile of boulders. Unfortunately, no such sightings. I was looking forward to a witch lynching. We were tempted to stop at some of the witch museums, but they were devoid of tourist and, again due to the rain, we just couldn't bring ourselves to get out of the car. So, what we saw, we saw from the car. Salem was a poor town, kinda dirty, without much to really see, so it was a bit of a disappointment to us. They did have a 1630 Puritan village that we could tour, much like Plimoth Plantation, but it was closed. Apparently, even the fake Puritans don't like it raining as much as it was either. We were surprised to learn that only 20 witches were killed in Salem. Twenty! That's it! I mean, twenty is a lot, but come on... 20 people roughly 400 years ago? Isn't it about time we got over it?
From Salem, we travelled west to Lexington and Concord which, if you are an American Revolution enthusiast like I am, you'll know that these were the locations of the first Patriot - British military engagements of the Revolution. Concord has the Minuteman National Park, which we stopped by... I was AMAZED by it, even though it is a mere 5-mile trail that points out where things happened during the first night of the first day of the American Revolution; where Paul Revere rode (the trail was his path) and was captured; where colonists were attacked, etc. Again, I want to revisit with bikes-- or maybe the dune buggy???-- to get a good glimpse of the entire Battle Road, as it is called. Because darkness had set in by that time, we continued down the road, west, to our next overnight location: Northampton Massachusetts, home of Ivory Creek-- our B&B.
Ivory Creek was a nice B&B. It was actually constructed as a B&B, not a home that was converted to one. So the rooms were nicely appointed, but we had (for the first time) strangers sharing the house with us. It wasn't quite as weird as I had thought it would be. The breakfast was a bit unusual... kielbasa, eggs with herbs, and fried bok choy. Eh? Yeah. I liked it all, but not a kid favorite, so we had the innkeeper find the Fruit Loops. And, dad isn't much of a fried bok choy kind of person, which is an unusual deviation from his usual culinary connoisseurship.
From Northampton, we continued west and took a quick detour off the turnpike to a small town called Stonebridge Massachusetts. Having no idea what this town was, we were surprised to realize it is/was the hometown of Norman Rockwell, America's most famous painter. You know him:
They had his home, studio, and museum you could tour (we didn't), and the whole town was set up around this one person. Fantastic little town, despite the bread store not having any bread, and the chocolate store selling chocolates that had been imported. The town was teeming with senior citizen tourists-- like flies on a dead carcass, catching a glimpse of anything Norman Rockwell and snatching up anything being offered for free. We decided to leave before we got trampled underneath Rascal scooters and walkers.
Our next and final stop was Palmyra New York. We pulled into Clifton Springs (just outside Palmyra) rather late, and without realizing it at the time, the entire town was without power. Probably took us 10 minutes to realize this, but when we did, the town took on a whole new dimension. All the houses were dark, streets were dark, and the B&B we were staying in was dark. Eerie! I thought we had inadvertently returned to Salem. Soon the lights came on, we got settled in, and went to bed. This B&B was a converted home, really old, and not as nice as the others we had stayed in, but the lady was nice and she made a great breakfast for us. The house was OK... maybe 3.5 stars, but you could tell the house had been there since the time of Adam. She didn't force her kids to stay out of our way, either, which made it an odd interaction... us walking through the house of a stranger with her kids running through and around us. Didn't like that much. Palmyra was, of course, the same as we remembered it from last summer, but it was the first time mom had been there, so we did the whole church thing... Hill Cumorah, Smith farms, printing shop, etc.
And, from there, we drove home to Pittsburgh.
What a whirlwind tour! We were able to ID stops for a return trip (while cutting out the not-so-spectacular places), and will hopefully soon return to pick up what we failed to see.
See the slideshow titled "Family Vacation 2010", right side of blog.
