Road trips are Americana at its finest. Nostalgia for those of us born in the 70’s is loading up the family vehicle and hitting the open road. Now granted, most of the time my family “vacation” included going to see my grandmother or simply moving. However, my father was a truck driver and during the summer, we occasionally took a trip or two in the big rig out on the open roads of America. Not exactly the traditional family road trip, but you work with what you have. Now having a family of my own, my husband and I have become quite adept at the traditional road-trip, much to the chagrin of our 3 teenage children. From their reactions to vacation you would think they were going to prison. I get it, we are old, embarrassing, and taking them away from their friends. In our defense, we do have to separate them from the pack to spend any actual time with them. Sometimes their joy is just too much to handle.
The road-trip in and of itself seems to have changed. While there are many, many, MANY people on the road, there does not seem to be many families in mid-travel. Has the road-trip become less popular? Has the idea of spending countless hours in the car with the family fallen by the wayside? Or have we, as a society simply become too busy to vacation? Like a good scientist, I (briefly) researched my hypothesis. My brief research brought me to a book “Don’t Make Me Pull Over!: An Informal History of the Family Road Trip” by Richard Ratay. His humorous and very informative history of the road trip is a must read for those who love Americana memorabilia and travelled during the 70’s. Richard and I agree that the road trip is becoming less popular. Even though my children almost have to be forced in the car at gun point in the beginning, they do, during the course of the trip, occasionally glance from their electronic device and notice something new. The true magic occurs when they actually comment or initiate conversation with either their uncool parents or even more miraculously, one of their siblings.
While “getting there is half the fun” is often quoted from parents to youths to keep angst at bay, the transit days are not the best. I consider transit days to only include driving and usually driving the interstate to make the best time. There is seldom anything interesting to see and some hours drag on forever. With the occasional break from monotony coming from the very back to when Joseph will frequently tell us the miles we have left is a prime number, or if you add all the numbers on the GPS together it is a prime number, or square root of something. It’s funny. Trust me.
After a long, hard day of travel a quiet room with a soft bed is all that is wanted. However, there has been very few times the hotel has been quiet. I will readily admit when I am tired, I immediately revert to an over-tired toddler. I want silence, not quiet, but silence. If you are breathing too loudly, you are part of the problem. Suffice it to say people that I am not related to, do not give a fat baby if I am grumpy. This is their off time as well. I get that. But I do think there should be some ground rules of at least generally accepted public etiquette. The top should include all sports should be played outside the hotel lobby, especially those including bats. If you decide to take over the entire lobby with a potluck of 50 people or more, please do not serve skunk ass sandwich with garlic and feet dressing. I am not a complete prude though. The cookout in the Holiday Inn parking lot should be left up to the management. This isn’t really what I expected to see in New York, but I am happy to know rednecks live everywhere.
Depending on the direction you are heading, you might be able to get off the interstate and find something that will pique the senses. The first part of this trip included getting to New England. We chose to “swing by” Niagara Falls on the way. The views were stunning despite the rain. Even though I have only been to Niagara the one time, I will say the absolute best time to visit is mid June around 8:00 pm when it is slightly raining. The park was almost empty. At first we were just going to view the falls from the top. However, when we looked down to see people standing in the falls, our sense of adventure was piqued. We found the ticket window for the Cave of the Winds tour and were on our way. An elevator takes you 175 feet down in a hand carved shaft that took over two years to complete. At the bottom, you may find the same gentlemen that we encountered who did not give two spits about his job. This very unengaged fellow gave Tim a child’s size poncho. While it did little to keep him dry, he was very cute wearing it as a cape.
Our next detour on the road took us to the George Eastman house. George Eastman is responsible for quick, and easy photographs as he is the inventor of the Kodak company. The house is set in Rochester, New York on impeccable grounds. Not only did we tour the history of photography, but also the home. While it is not as elaborate as the Biltmore in Asheville, North Carolina, it is still a beautiful home built around a pipe organ. That sounds odd, I realize but literally in the middle of the house is a giant organ hidden behind decorative panels. The music collection was most impressive.
Usually our one night stops are fairly boring and include one of the main hotel chains. As I searched for lodging in the Adirondack’s, chain hotels were not available. I had to begin looking at the (gasp) motels of the area. By reading the book mentioned above, I learned that motels got their name from being called “motor hotels” meaning usually you could park directly in front of your room. I always thought it had to do with outside doors. Any way, Clarke’s Beach Motel is where we stopped. The accommodations were clean and adequate. The entire hamlet of Old Forge, New York appears as if time stopped in the 70’s and Clarke’s Beach Motel was no different. From the pinball machine and pool table to the brown carpet and brown and green coverlets, it was as if you expected to see the Brady’s roll up in their wood paneled station wagon. I think it did our children good to stay in less than modern accommodation. Every once in a while they need to dry off with a towel that has 4 threads holding it together and sleep in a room with an inefficient air conditioner.
After four days on the road, we arrived at our rented house for some much anticipated down time. The house sits on 12 acres near the end of Islesboro Island. I am in love. I will save details of the house for a later post. Tomorrow we head south again, but it will takes a week or more to get home as the road trip continues tomorrow in Salem. Hopefully, after the four days of rest and relaxation everyone will be ready to hit the road once again.
