I spent a little while in the morning back at the the Metropark and then drove into Cleveland, where I took a 2-hour cruise on Lake Erie and the Cayahoga River. We had to stop for a while to let a big barge go past us. Afterwards, I went for a short walk in the nearby financial district. There was a shopping center along the way but it was closed and abandoned, as were a number of the stores en route. I did finally stop into a Subway and get a huge vegetable salad.
Then I walked back to the pier, which also held the Rock and Roll Museum. I spent three interesting hours at the Museum, but I was disappointed not to see anything about the Dick Clark Show in Philadelphia. Also I think of Rock and Roll as the music of the Fifties. After that came hard rock, soft rock, punk rock, disco, and more, but they treated all of these as Rock and Roll, so there wasn't all that much on the Fifties. There was also a fair amount about music which paved the way for Rock and Roll, which was actually quite interesting. The part I enjoyed most, though, was a listening post where I could choose any artist admitted to their "Hall of Fame" and hear any song the singer or musician or group had ever recorded. I listened to some Everly Brothers, the Platters, and Elvis for a while, and enjoyed it very much. It was almost 7:00 by then so I pointed my GPS toward a Red Roof Inn where I had made a reservation and called it a day.
Some more favorite signs: \
At a cafe in Clarion, PA: "Unattended children will be given an Expresso and a free puppy."
At a railroad crossing in Cayahoga National Park: "No parking on the tracks." At first glance this seems reasonable. But think about it. Who in the world would park on railroad tracks except someone bent on committing suicide? And would they likely be deterred by a sign telling them not to do this? I don't think so!
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Friday, July 30, 2010
Approaching Cleveland
Flowers in Cleveland's Metro Park
I found signs for America's Byways (scenic roads as an alternative to interstate highways) and followed the signs. Actually I followed them in the wrong direction for about 5 miles before I stopped to check a map and got myself turned around in the right direction. This is getting to be a habit! The road took me along the old Ohio and Erie canal. There was a jogging/bicycle path beside the canal and I took a very pleasant half-hour walk along the canal and then had lunch in the small park next to the canal Visitors Center.
A little further down the road I stopped off for a few hours at the Cleveland Metro Park. It is big - somewhat like Fairmount Park, with a walking path along the canal and benches where people were sitting and fishing. I found a small grove with picnic benches that I had all to myself and read my science fiction novel for quite a while.
I found out that I was only about 7 miles from Cleveland, but there were no campgrounds in the area and the motels were quite expensive. I just couldn't bear to pay $90.00 for sleeping at the Holiday Inn, but fortunately I didn't have to. The Holiday Inn had a large parking lot and I just parked my car there, hung out in the Holiday Inn for a while, while people at some large Pakistani celebration milled about, and then I went to sleep in my car. Not quite as comfortable as inside the Holiday Inn, but not bad either, and definitely a good value for the price.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
In search of a campsite
Today I was looking for Cuyahoga National Park in Ohio. Ever heard of it? Me neither, but it's BIG - 33 square miles - that's BIG. Today I really wanted to get out of Pennsylvania and move on, so I got on an interstate highway, Rt. 80. It was dull, but at least I was zipping along at 70 miles an hour - for a little while; then I hit construction. Now I was zipping along at 10 miles an hour, and it was REALLY dull. For the first time since I've been on this trip I took out one of the Books on Tape that I brought along, The Battle of Gettysburg. Mostly I've been perfectly content to just enjoy the scenery and sing softly to myself. I know lots of songs. Fortunately, I am by myself since I can't imagine anyone else would want to listen to me singing all day long. And although I do know many songs, I am starting to repeat myself.
Finally, though, I reached Ohio. I was given a free state map at the Visitors Center and some direction from the park ranger behind the counter. On the map I noted a park not far away, and my AAA tour book confirmed that there was a campground in the park. I was on my way! I was now on a state road. I passed houses, stores, auto repair places, and more road construction. Suddenly I saw a sign. telling me that I was now in Cuyahoga National Park. But I did not see a park office. All I saw were more houses, stores, auto repair places, and road construction. Eventually I saw a sign that said there was a Visitors Center in two miles. I drove two miles, three miles, four miles. Still no Visitors Center. Finally, I pulled in to a gas station to ask directions. I do not like to do this. I know I have a poor sense of direction, but nevertheless, stopping to ask directions is an affront to my manliness. Usually when I am with Elise, I make her ask and I pretend that I am not with her.
Nevertheless, in desperation I stopped at a minimart and got some directions from a young woman behind the counter. She did not seem very confident about her directions, however, so a couple miles down the road, I pulled into a gas station and asked the first man I saw where I could find a park Visitors Center. He didn't seem all that confident either, but he gave me the same directions as I had received from the young lady, so I was encouraged. He admitted that his directions would not take me to a Visitors Center, but they would take me to a ranger station and the rangers should be able to direct me to a Visitors Center. Close enough! I followed his directions and eventually came to a park maintenance station. There one of the staff made a phone call and then gave me some general directions to the Visitor Center. Well, not exactly a Visitor Center. The Visitors Center would be closed by the time I arrived, but there was a yellow trail mix store across from the Visitors Center and they could direct me to a campsite. The ranger also told me that I "can't miss it" even though his directions were somewhat vague.
I have noticed that people who know how to get to a particular place often think that the person they are directing "can't miss it," but this is frequently not the case. I have already missed more than one place that I "couldn't miss." In any event, I was off again, and although the road twisted and turned, I nevertheless managed to find the yellow trail mix store. The lady inside was very friendly and helpful. She explained to me that there were only 7 campsites in the whole park, but that since they were primitive campsites and almost no one knew about them, six of the seven were still available for this evening. Three of them were in an open field, so I signed up for one of the ones in the woods. She then explained to me where to find the campground. It was not far away which was a good thing, because once I found it and unloaded my gear, I would have to take my car back to the Visitors Center parking lot and leave it there and then walk back to the campsite.
I followed her directions and looked for the campsites, but I did not see any campsites; I did not see any signs indicating the presence of any campsites. I did walk up a muddy path which had a sign saying "horse trail." A horse trail is not a campsite - I knew that - but it was the closest thing to a campsite that I had seen along this road. A few feet into the woods, I saw a doe with her fawn; we stared at each other, and then they ran off. I was pleased to see the deer, but I would also like to have seen some indication of a campsite. This I did not see. Deeply discouraged I drove back to the trail mix store to tell my tale of woe to the lady and ask for my money back. This was my lucky day; at least the store was still open. The lady who was very nice to me before was still very nice to me. I told her that I saw a sign pointing towards a hostel nearby and that I would try there rather than continue my search for the mystery campsites. She tore up my credit card record and I was on my way to the hostel.
I again saw the sign pointing to the hostel but I did not see the hostel. This was beginning to be a pattern! I saw a lady walking a dog. I asked her about the hostel. She told me that there used to be a hostel but it was no more. I did not know which was better or worse - campsites without any signs or a sign without any hostel. But the lady with the dog also told me that there were some very nice campsites just up the hill - the missing campsites! I went to take a look; I saw the three campsites in the open field - actually the lawn of what used to be the hostel, but I still couldn't see any campsites in the woods.
It was enough, already! I remembered that on the main road a few miles back, I saw some motels. I headed back and eventually found my way to a Motel 6. When Elise and I went crosscountry 40 years ago, Motel 6 was just getting started. It was called Motel 6 because the price was $6.00 a night. Although the price was now $40.00 a night, that is still a good price for a motel. The room was clean; it had a bed; it even had WIFI. I took it.
Finally, though, I reached Ohio. I was given a free state map at the Visitors Center and some direction from the park ranger behind the counter. On the map I noted a park not far away, and my AAA tour book confirmed that there was a campground in the park. I was on my way! I was now on a state road. I passed houses, stores, auto repair places, and more road construction. Suddenly I saw a sign. telling me that I was now in Cuyahoga National Park. But I did not see a park office. All I saw were more houses, stores, auto repair places, and road construction. Eventually I saw a sign that said there was a Visitors Center in two miles. I drove two miles, three miles, four miles. Still no Visitors Center. Finally, I pulled in to a gas station to ask directions. I do not like to do this. I know I have a poor sense of direction, but nevertheless, stopping to ask directions is an affront to my manliness. Usually when I am with Elise, I make her ask and I pretend that I am not with her.
Nevertheless, in desperation I stopped at a minimart and got some directions from a young woman behind the counter. She did not seem very confident about her directions, however, so a couple miles down the road, I pulled into a gas station and asked the first man I saw where I could find a park Visitors Center. He didn't seem all that confident either, but he gave me the same directions as I had received from the young lady, so I was encouraged. He admitted that his directions would not take me to a Visitors Center, but they would take me to a ranger station and the rangers should be able to direct me to a Visitors Center. Close enough! I followed his directions and eventually came to a park maintenance station. There one of the staff made a phone call and then gave me some general directions to the Visitor Center. Well, not exactly a Visitor Center. The Visitors Center would be closed by the time I arrived, but there was a yellow trail mix store across from the Visitors Center and they could direct me to a campsite. The ranger also told me that I "can't miss it" even though his directions were somewhat vague.
I have noticed that people who know how to get to a particular place often think that the person they are directing "can't miss it," but this is frequently not the case. I have already missed more than one place that I "couldn't miss." In any event, I was off again, and although the road twisted and turned, I nevertheless managed to find the yellow trail mix store. The lady inside was very friendly and helpful. She explained to me that there were only 7 campsites in the whole park, but that since they were primitive campsites and almost no one knew about them, six of the seven were still available for this evening. Three of them were in an open field, so I signed up for one of the ones in the woods. She then explained to me where to find the campground. It was not far away which was a good thing, because once I found it and unloaded my gear, I would have to take my car back to the Visitors Center parking lot and leave it there and then walk back to the campsite.
I followed her directions and looked for the campsites, but I did not see any campsites; I did not see any signs indicating the presence of any campsites. I did walk up a muddy path which had a sign saying "horse trail." A horse trail is not a campsite - I knew that - but it was the closest thing to a campsite that I had seen along this road. A few feet into the woods, I saw a doe with her fawn; we stared at each other, and then they ran off. I was pleased to see the deer, but I would also like to have seen some indication of a campsite. This I did not see. Deeply discouraged I drove back to the trail mix store to tell my tale of woe to the lady and ask for my money back. This was my lucky day; at least the store was still open. The lady who was very nice to me before was still very nice to me. I told her that I saw a sign pointing towards a hostel nearby and that I would try there rather than continue my search for the mystery campsites. She tore up my credit card record and I was on my way to the hostel.
I again saw the sign pointing to the hostel but I did not see the hostel. This was beginning to be a pattern! I saw a lady walking a dog. I asked her about the hostel. She told me that there used to be a hostel but it was no more. I did not know which was better or worse - campsites without any signs or a sign without any hostel. But the lady with the dog also told me that there were some very nice campsites just up the hill - the missing campsites! I went to take a look; I saw the three campsites in the open field - actually the lawn of what used to be the hostel, but I still couldn't see any campsites in the woods.
It was enough, already! I remembered that on the main road a few miles back, I saw some motels. I headed back and eventually found my way to a Motel 6. When Elise and I went crosscountry 40 years ago, Motel 6 was just getting started. It was called Motel 6 because the price was $6.00 a night. Although the price was now $40.00 a night, that is still a good price for a motel. The room was clean; it had a bed; it even had WIFI. I took it.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Camping at Rusty Acres
What with getting up late, doing some laundry, preparing and eating breakfast, going thru a lot of aggravation getting my netbook to do what I wanted it to, and packing up my camping gear, it was time for lunch by the time I was ready to start out. By the time I actually hit the road it was almost 2:00. My GPS tried to take me northwest by going south, but I caught on sooner than yesterday and turned her off. This is definitely putting a strain on our relationship!
I spent the night at the aptly named Rustic Acres Campground. My site was right up against the woods and I spotted a deer there at sunset. Again, I was the only tent camper in the campground. I did have a nice chat with a couple with a huge trailer who were driving back to Arizona after visiting their grandchildren in New England. I hope they enjoy being with their grandchildren as much as I enjoy being with Miriam - but I suppose they must or they wouldn't be driving all that way in that huge vehicle to see them.
Incidentally, if any of you are expecting any e-mail from me during this trip, that probably won't happen. So far I have been able to receive e-mail, but I can't send any. I don't know why. This computer is just very cranky.
I spent the night at the aptly named Rustic Acres Campground. My site was right up against the woods and I spotted a deer there at sunset. Again, I was the only tent camper in the campground. I did have a nice chat with a couple with a huge trailer who were driving back to Arizona after visiting their grandchildren in New England. I hope they enjoy being with their grandchildren as much as I enjoy being with Miriam - but I suppose they must or they wouldn't be driving all that way in that huge vehicle to see them.
Incidentally, if any of you are expecting any e-mail from me during this trip, that probably won't happen. So far I have been able to receive e-mail, but I can't send any. I don't know why. This computer is just very cranky.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Led astray by my GPS
An American axiom: "Your health is too important to entrust entirely to your doctor."
An American axiom: "Your money is too important to entrust entirely to your financial advisor."
A proposed new American axiom: "Your travel is too important to leave entirely to your GPS."
I attempted to tell the little lady in my GPS that I wanted to get from where I was to where I wanted to go without going on any super highways. Apparently she understood the part about staying off super highways but not the part about taking me where I wanted to go. The result was that I spent about 40 minutes driving around in a big circle and ending up not very far from where I started. I must admit, however, that she did take me on a scenic route via back roads through Pennsylvania Dutch country that I didn't even know existed in northwestern Pennsylvania. I saw women driving horse and buggies down the narrow roads and tending beautiful flower gardens in front of their homes. The GPS lady also took me up a gravel road with a great view of the valley below and the mountains beyond the valley. At one point I had to stop to let a couple of Pennsylvania Dutch farmers back up a large truck into a narrow driveway. He made it look easy. I stuck my arm out my car window and gave them a "well done" sign. The man beside the driver gave me a big smile and waved back.
That evening I found a very pleasant family campground with a nice wooded site, a laundry room with a microwave oven in addition to the washers and dryers, and even wifi. I had trouble connecting to the wifi, but the lady running the campground sat down with me and eventually solved the problem. Afterwards, she invited me to join her and a friend and share their hotdogs, but I was already too full from having just eaten dinner at my campsite.
Whatever happened to tent camping? At the state park all but one of the sites that I saw had trailers of one sort or another, and tonight I was the only tent camper in the campground. It made me feel a little like a relic from a more primitive time, but it also had its positive side. I remember that one of the reasons Elise and I stopped camping years ago was that we were so frequently annoyed by campers playing their radios or TV's. Now even if people are still doing that, at least they're doing it inside their trailers, so folks like me who appreciate a little quiet don't have to hear it.
An American axiom: "Your money is too important to entrust entirely to your financial advisor."
A proposed new American axiom: "Your travel is too important to leave entirely to your GPS."
I attempted to tell the little lady in my GPS that I wanted to get from where I was to where I wanted to go without going on any super highways. Apparently she understood the part about staying off super highways but not the part about taking me where I wanted to go. The result was that I spent about 40 minutes driving around in a big circle and ending up not very far from where I started. I must admit, however, that she did take me on a scenic route via back roads through Pennsylvania Dutch country that I didn't even know existed in northwestern Pennsylvania. I saw women driving horse and buggies down the narrow roads and tending beautiful flower gardens in front of their homes. The GPS lady also took me up a gravel road with a great view of the valley below and the mountains beyond the valley. At one point I had to stop to let a couple of Pennsylvania Dutch farmers back up a large truck into a narrow driveway. He made it look easy. I stuck my arm out my car window and gave them a "well done" sign. The man beside the driver gave me a big smile and waved back.
That evening I found a very pleasant family campground with a nice wooded site, a laundry room with a microwave oven in addition to the washers and dryers, and even wifi. I had trouble connecting to the wifi, but the lady running the campground sat down with me and eventually solved the problem. Afterwards, she invited me to join her and a friend and share their hotdogs, but I was already too full from having just eaten dinner at my campsite.
Whatever happened to tent camping? At the state park all but one of the sites that I saw had trailers of one sort or another, and tonight I was the only tent camper in the campground. It made me feel a little like a relic from a more primitive time, but it also had its positive side. I remember that one of the reasons Elise and I stopped camping years ago was that we were so frequently annoyed by campers playing their radios or TV's. Now even if people are still doing that, at least they're doing it inside their trailers, so folks like me who appreciate a little quiet don't have to hear it.
Monday, July 26, 2010
First day on the road
I had a long and pleasant breakfast with my cousins Malcolm and Ilene and didn't get on the road until about 11:00. My first stop was Boscovs Department Store, about three miles from my cousins' house. Boscovs wasn't actually on my itinerary. It's not usually considered a tourist attraction. I stopped there for sentimental reasons. When I would come to Harrisburg to visit my mother at her assisted living residence, our routine was to go to lunch and then to Boscovs. My mother had Alzheimers, and a few minutes after we ordered lunch she would often ask me if she had ordered yet and, if so, what was it that she had ordered; nevertheless, she could still find her way to Boscovs in her car without ever getting lost. She rarely bought anything for herself, but she always insisted on buying something for me - even if it was only socks and underwear. Just wandering around the store brought back memories. My mother is buried in Harrisburg, but I never visit the cemetery; I much prefer to remember her at Boscovs where I can still envision us walking up and down the aisles together.
From there I headed north towards Penn State College - a beautiful drive up through the mountains. My first stop was Lewistown. Like many small towns - and large towns as well - it looks very economically depressed. The main street had many empty stores. There was a sign in front of one store which said, "No Loitering." Loitering didn't seem like much of a problem; I certainly didn't see anyone loitering; in fact, most of the stores had closed at 3:00 and I was just about the only person on the street.
I did find one restaurant open and went in for a cup of coffee and a piece of apple pie. I saw a piece of something that looked like apple pie in the dessert display case and asked the waitress if it was indeed apple pie. She said that her best guess was that it was apple pie with cranberries. In any case it was quite tasty, and we had a good laugh together when it turned out to be carrot cake with walnuts.
I also stopped briefly in State College creamery long enough to buy a scoop of ice cream named after the football coach. The "Paterno Special" (peach ice cream) was quite good!
I spent the night at a campsite in Greenwood State Park. My popup tent popped up just as it was supposed to, my little camp stove performed as it was supposed to, and I had a very interesting conversation with a gentleman in the men's room who had grown up in the area and was happy to give me a summary of the area's history over the last 50 years - so all in all a good first day on the road.
Favorite roadsign for the day: "Buckle up - next million miles."
From there I headed north towards Penn State College - a beautiful drive up through the mountains. My first stop was Lewistown. Like many small towns - and large towns as well - it looks very economically depressed. The main street had many empty stores. There was a sign in front of one store which said, "No Loitering." Loitering didn't seem like much of a problem; I certainly didn't see anyone loitering; in fact, most of the stores had closed at 3:00 and I was just about the only person on the street.
I did find one restaurant open and went in for a cup of coffee and a piece of apple pie. I saw a piece of something that looked like apple pie in the dessert display case and asked the waitress if it was indeed apple pie. She said that her best guess was that it was apple pie with cranberries. In any case it was quite tasty, and we had a good laugh together when it turned out to be carrot cake with walnuts.
I also stopped briefly in State College creamery long enough to buy a scoop of ice cream named after the football coach. The "Paterno Special" (peach ice cream) was quite good!
I spent the night at a campsite in Greenwood State Park. My popup tent popped up just as it was supposed to, my little camp stove performed as it was supposed to, and I had a very interesting conversation with a gentleman in the men's room who had grown up in the area and was happy to give me a summary of the area's history over the last 50 years - so all in all a good first day on the road.
Favorite roadsign for the day: "Buckle up - next million miles."
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Starting my trip with a visit
Spanish is a great language. For example, instead of having to say, "I dropped the vase and broke it into a thousand pieces," you would say, "The vase dropped and broke into a thousand pieces." No blame. Not really any responsibility - it just happened. Another more relevant example. Instead of having to say, "I started my trip by turning onto the expressway going in the wrong direction," I can say, "The trip started with a turn onto the expressway going in the wrong direction" It just happened. Not my fault. John Steinbeck in his travel book Travels with Charley also started his trip with a wrong turn on his home turf, and when I spoke with a good friend of mine from New York about his trip , he mentioned that he had also started a long trip by getting lost on his way to the George Washington Bridge, so I'm in good company.
Getting to my cousin's house near Harrisburg also proved somewhat problematic since there was a poorly marked detour close to his house. Fortunately the little lady who lives in my GPS knew an easy alternate route (How does she do that?), so this wasn't the problem it might have been. "Your GPS - don't leave home without it." The visit with my cousins was very pleasant. Another of my cousins was there and we talked about everything from family history to financial derivatives, politics and our personal lives. One of the conversational highlights - my cousin's comment that his wife "refused to marry me until I got my divorce (from my previous wife.)" Good talk followed by a very good dinner. The most confusing part had to do with my family tree. Seems like my aunt by marriage to my uncle was also my mother's aunt by virtue of being a daughter of my mother's grandfather - or something like that. In truth, I've never been very interested in my family tree. I'm perfectly satisfied just to think I might be a descendant of King David and let it go at that.
The sad part of the trip was that I didn't get to see my cousin Frances, who is just a year or so older than I. The last time I'd spoken to her a few months ago she had had a minor heart attack and had moved into an assisted living residence. When I called her a week or so ago, she told me that she had been diagnosed with leukemia and that the chemotherapy wasn't going very well. When I called this morning to see if she was well enough for me to visit her, she said that she wasn't, and when I mentioned that perhaps I would be able to see her on my way back from my trip, she said matter-of-factly that she was planning to go into hospice care soon and wasn't expecting to still be around then.
I remember Frances when she first came to stay with my family at the age of 18 or so. She was slim and beautiful, graceful and vivacious. She hasn't been slim and graceful for several years now, but she is still vivacious and I will miss her. It was also a reminder for me how precarious life is. I'm glad I'm doing this trip while I still can.
Getting to my cousin's house near Harrisburg also proved somewhat problematic since there was a poorly marked detour close to his house. Fortunately the little lady who lives in my GPS knew an easy alternate route (How does she do that?), so this wasn't the problem it might have been. "Your GPS - don't leave home without it." The visit with my cousins was very pleasant. Another of my cousins was there and we talked about everything from family history to financial derivatives, politics and our personal lives. One of the conversational highlights - my cousin's comment that his wife "refused to marry me until I got my divorce (from my previous wife.)" Good talk followed by a very good dinner. The most confusing part had to do with my family tree. Seems like my aunt by marriage to my uncle was also my mother's aunt by virtue of being a daughter of my mother's grandfather - or something like that. In truth, I've never been very interested in my family tree. I'm perfectly satisfied just to think I might be a descendant of King David and let it go at that.
The sad part of the trip was that I didn't get to see my cousin Frances, who is just a year or so older than I. The last time I'd spoken to her a few months ago she had had a minor heart attack and had moved into an assisted living residence. When I called her a week or so ago, she told me that she had been diagnosed with leukemia and that the chemotherapy wasn't going very well. When I called this morning to see if she was well enough for me to visit her, she said that she wasn't, and when I mentioned that perhaps I would be able to see her on my way back from my trip, she said matter-of-factly that she was planning to go into hospice care soon and wasn't expecting to still be around then.
I remember Frances when she first came to stay with my family at the age of 18 or so. She was slim and beautiful, graceful and vivacious. She hasn't been slim and graceful for several years now, but she is still vivacious and I will miss her. It was also a reminder for me how precarious life is. I'm glad I'm doing this trip while I still can.
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