Strange Birthdays

     We're heading south. The big news today is, Barbara's 50! - Three times now, Barbara has split her birthday between two countries. And once, she woke up on ship on her birthday, crossed the International Dateline into the next day by taking a launch to Fanning Island, then came back to her birthday when she came back to the ship. Once, we totally lost the day before her birthday while flying to Australia. It just melted and fell into the sea as we slept.

     The second biggest, we're back in the good old USA! After months of french TV, no TV, Loonies, and Kilometers, things of the USA are good to be back to. Canada was a wonderful place to be. We'll miss it. We decided paint and flower stores must do well, from the look of their houses and yards.

     We picked up our mail at Elsworth. One letter. Pulling into Bar Harbor RV Park, the welcoming sign said, “Make noise, we evict you. No second chance.” We kept quiet.

     I left the emergency brake on again, burned it out. Well, maybe, there's just enough space for one more adjustment. It's cold. In the low 40's. 

     At Acadia National Park, there's lots of good views, when the fog allows. The wind will just blow you down. A car pulled in next to us at an overlook near the summit. Two young kids jumped out, just started running pell-mell down the mountain, disappearing into the fog. The mother went ballistic.  Though she didn't know, the mountain is a dome. No cliffs, that we saw. But who knows what surprises the fog holds? In that mother’s place, I most likely would have behaved the same way.

     It's Sunday morning. Lots of fantastic looking churches, but most are deserted. We decided to go to Bangor. “Paul Bunyan Days” seemed to be over, the town was deserted. Barbara found a gift shop, just had to see it. I leaned against the car and waited. A motorcycle cop drove by. Then, two or three runners. Must be some sort of small race. To make a long story short, by the time Barbara was shopped out, more than 1000 runners, walkers, and limpers came by  me.

     We went back to Ellsburg. Barbara had a mail package from Kinley. Kinley can really do a birthday package up right!

     Passing through Freeport,  we stopped at the giant LL Bean store. I asked what time they closed. The clerk said, “Do you see any locks on these doors?” Seems they had closed three times in their history. Fire, President Kennedy's death, and for the death of LL Bean.

     The highway rose slowly, then we passed through The Notch. It was very windy there, and we could see Mt. Washington, the home of world record winds. 230 MPH. Past The Notch, headed down, the mountain bloomed. It's hard to compete with Sugar Maples in the Fall.

     We asked a man at a store in Ammonoosuc, “Where can we find a moose?” He told us where to be at daylight, we were, and the moose was there too. Barbara was no longer mooseless!

     Heading west into Vermont, we began to see covered bridges. We decided to search for a maple syrup farm Barbara had heard about. After we drove forever, it seemed, on a dirt road, a farm ahead was promising. The sign said, “We're not it. Directions, $10.” We finally found it on our own, the $10 still in our pocket.  40 gallons of juice equals one gallon of syrup. There are four different qualities of syrup, depending upon how early in the season it is taken. Maple syrup can actually be made in Arkansas, but it is difficult to time when the sap starts to rise, with all the warm weather we have in February.

     September 28 – We start our longest move, through Massachusetts and Connecticut to the KOA in Plattskill, NY.  We found out upon arrival that our scheduled tour of New York City had been canceled, the driver of the bus had quit. After a day or so, it was now on. The driver and guide were both former New York City policemen. We visited the Statue of Liberty, Wall Street, and were shocked when we reached the top of the Empire State Building. Skyscrapers just stretched to the edge of our vision. Coming down, we flew through ten floors in seven seconds. To me, that's free fall. Then Times Square,  Rockefeller Center, NBC – and then headed for home. They gave a prize for the oldest woman on the bus, and since most of our companions were old, Barbara asked about a prize for the youngest. That idea was unpopular. A good place to see, not one I would want to live in.

     At Starlight camp, we were on top of a mountain overlooking the Amish country. Farms seem to have 20 or 30 acres. Dozens of giant hot air balloons were taking off at daylight. They make good use of their land. We went to an Amish Farmer's Market the next day. Shoofly Pie, fresh squeezed apple juice. Barbara was about to take a picture of two Amish men, playing checkers. They waved it off, no pictures. They were making a living off the tourists, and I thought that was a little odd. We overate chocolate at Hershey. Horse and buggy rigs were just everywhere. The simple life has it's attraction, taking life directly from the land. Many of their harvesting devices were familiar, from Wing, many years ago.

     We moved to Gettysburg, and toured the battle site. So much pain and death on these fields. The last man to fall on Pickett's charge fell right here, by these bushes. We left out on a dreary morning, somehow appropriate. Past a statue of an officer on his horse at the crest of a hill, past thousands of crosses standing in straight rows. We don't want to glorify war, but we must pay tribute to these brave men. We were glad we saw it, even more glad when we left.

     We drove through Maryland. The leaves were not quite at their peak yet, but we saw it a couple of years later, backtracking I must admit, which we try to avoid. The second time around, Maryland was as glorious as New England was now. Moving into West Virginia, it was a hard trip. Even on this great interstate now through these mountains. Its hard to imagine the hardships of the pioneers, traveling here. We camped at Broken Wheel Campground, and the name seemed appropriate. West Virginia is a poor state, very rich in natural beauty – and coal.

     The old grist mill on a rushing brook at Babcock State Park, which of course we pictured, is a great photo attraction. We have seen photos of it, all over the country. The New River Gorge is actually very old, and the world's longest single arch steel bridge spans it, 867 feet above the river below. The coal seam is about three quarters of the way to the top, and it's easy to mine. Just drop the coal to the valley below, haul it off. Many sky divers gather at the New River Gorge bridge one day each year, to risk killing themselves. I just don't have that urge.

     This was a backward, isolated area for so long, before this high tech corridor we came down. Travel was hard for these friendly people, who speak so much like the Arkansas hill people of my youth. The slang is so similar, it is amazing. I know they never visited back and forth much, over these mountains. The New River is also a top white water river.