Wandering Where We’ll Be

After the White Mountains, we spent one night (Saturday) at a Maine State Park (Lake St. George, near Liberty, ME).  Then, we drove up the coast of Maine to Acadia National Park.  We camped in the park two nights (Sun/Mon), and did several hikes in the park — magnificent landscape and views!!

Tuesday, we crossed the border into Canada, staying at a campground near St. Andrews, New Brunswick.  Wednesday, we spent part of the day in St. John, New Brunswick, and, we stayed two nights (Wed/Thurs) in Fundy National Park.  Fundy Bay has some of the highest tides in the world, so it was really fun to walk on the tidal shores.

We’re in Moncton, NB right now, and will be going to our first farm on Prince Edward Island this weekend.

Tim

OK, back to our visit to Hartford, Connecticut, where we attended mass at St. Patrick/St. Anthony parish.

We had picked up a visitor’s guide to Greater Hartford and Connecticut’s River Valley, and the guide listed, among many others “attractions,” two Catholic churches in or near downtown Hartford.  We decided to see if we could find them and – since it was Saturday – see if we could attend mass at one of them.

We parked just a block from the capitol building, and while Dan was finishing a blog entry we would post later that day, I walked Jake on the capitol lawn.  We also had a brief rain shower pass over while we were preparing to leave the truck, so we grabbed our umbrellas.

We first found St. Patrick/St. Anthony, just a few blocks from where we had parked.  The sign in front of the church indicated that the parish was run by Franciscans.  According to the guide we picked up, St. Patrick/St. Anthony is “home of Connecticut’s first Roman Catholic parish,” and the church building itself is a 19th century Portland brownstone edifice, which has more recently undergone interior restoration.  The outside of the building was beautiful, with its below-street-level courtyards/gardens on either side.  But, we couldn’t go inside at that time because a funeral service was being held.  So, we took note of the Saturday mass time (4 pm) and continued on.

After looking for and finding a Wi-Fi hotspot, checking email and posting Dan’s blog entry, we drove over to Hartford’s Westend neighborhood.  There, we saw Mark Twain’s house and visited the Harriet Beecher Stowe Center on our way to the Cathedral of St. Joseph.  The visitor’s guide describes the Cathedral as follows: “Contemporary design and noted for its stained glass windows and artwork.  World’s largest ceramic mural depicting Christ in Glory.”  Wow!!  I would say that “…noted for its stained glass windows…” is an understatement.  Most of the sides, front and back of this huge Cathedral ARE stained glass windows, and they are magnificent!  The pipe organ in the balcony looked monstrous; it would have been fun to hear it being played.  We walked around the Cathedral a bit and took a few photos.  But, it was getting time to head back to St. Patrick/St. Anthony for 4 pm mass.

The interior restoration was apparent as we walked in.  The altar/lectern had been moved from its traditional cove in the front to an area in the main body of the church where one would normally find the first 15 or so rows of seating.  The church had pillars down the sides, and I’m guessing that the original layout of the seating had been very similar to that of St. Mark’s in Shakopee, with two sections of pews in the center and two more sections on the outside of the rows of pillars.  However, now, the outer sections of pews were slanted in toward the relocated altar/lectern, and two more sections of seating were located on either side of the altar/lectern, facing each other.  This gave the church more of a “circle-‘round-the-altar” feel.

OK, the music…  The pipe organ, which was located in the balcony (both the console and the pipes), was used for all songs except for the communion hymn.  A male cantor with a beautiful tenor voice led the songs and sang the Responsorial Psalm verses.  Here’s the “menu.”

Entrance Hymn: Marty Haugen’s “All Are Welcome”
The organ took this at pretty much the same tempo we do it, and ended it just as we do: “…place.” 2-3-and-4-1.  It was a fitting song to welcome us to a very welcoming community. 

The Gloria and most other mass parts were from Haugen’s “Mass of Creation.”

However, the Alleluia was taken from Richard Proulx’ “A Festival Eucharist.”

Preparation Hymn: “Rejoice, O Mary, Heavenly Queen”
This was a nice, old hymn tune from the 16th century.

Communion Hymn: “I Want to Walk as a Child of the Light”
This one was done on piano, and when we finished all three verses (? – Are there more?), the pianist briefly – and beautifully — improvised on the tune while they finished cleaning up after communion.  Dan hadn’t heard us do this song before, and really liked it.  He said if had a “funeral” list, this song would be on it.

Then, before the closing prayer, the priest started – and all joined in praying — the Prayer of St. Francis, which was printed in the worship aid.  I assume that they pray this prayer at every mass because of how the congregation joined in with little prompting and the fact that the parish is run by Franciscans.  It was a nice touch.

Closing Hymn: “All Creatures of Our God and King”
Another old, hymn tune, which ends with “Alleluia, alleluia! Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluuu-ia!”

Then, this past Sunday, I attended mass at St. Francis of Assisi in Belfast, ME.  They had a pianist, who also led the songs and canted the Responsorial Psalm verses.  She had a soprano voice, so there were many high notes for me to try to hit. 🙂  And, we sang “You Are Mine” for one of the songs, and the version didn’t hold a candle to the St. Mary’s Saturday Choir’s version. 🙂  Also, at this mass, the pianist was playing another verse of the communion song to “cover” the priest, and one woman in the back of the congregation decided to sing a “solo” to the instrumental.  When the pianist finished the song, she – and many in the congregation — just smiled as she kept from laughing.  Apparently, this isn’t the first time they’ve received an impromptu solo from the congregation. 🙂

As I write this, we are in Acadia National Park on the coast of Maine.  After two nearly rain-free days (YEA!!), we have rain again this morning.  But, I’m dry, sitting at the picnic table under the “kitchen” fly we put up right after setting up the tent when we set up camp here two days ago.  Dan is still sleeping, so I’ll see if I can do a little catch-up and get something written for the blog.

The rain seems to make the all the colors I see so vivid.  There’s the light yellow tent, the red truck, and the green tarp.  But, mostly, I see the reddish-brown trunks and the dark green needles of the spruce, fir and pine trees that dominate the campground area.  Dan and I have talked about all the similarities of the areas of Maine that we have traveled in to northeastern Minnesota.  It almost feels like we’re “home” again after camping in the “big woods” of Indiana, along estuaries in North Carolina, in the sandy soils of the outer banks, in the leafing-out hardwoods of Connecticut and in the dunes of Cape Cod in Massachusetts.  The landscape of Maine is one that is very familiar to us: the abundant evergreens; the birch and aspen; the tell-tale, rocky landscape that is evidence of a glacier-scoured region; and a “lakes” region in western Maine where we heard loons “singing” as we went to sleep a couple nights ago.  Even the manner of speaking – while not the same – is more similar to Minnesotan than any of the other areas we’ve visited – the southern, New Jersey, New York, Boston and New England accents/dialects.  We stopped at a roadside restaurant after our two-night backpacking trip in the White Mountains, and our server didn’t assume – from our accent – that we weren’t from the area.  And, the gift shops even remind us of Minnesota, with the “up-north” décor, including loons, moose and evergreen trees.  Now, as we approached the coast, another element, which is very NOT Minnesotan, is added to the mix: the whole culture of the sea, including seashells, sea gulls, fishers’ nets, lobster baskets and buoys? (We’re not sure if these have a technical name, but – to us – they look like big bobbers.), and large boats (sail and motorized).

OK, a quick catch-up, in case Dan gets up soon or my laptop battery starts running low…

Last Thursday, we did continue on the White Mountain National Forest in New Hampshire.  It was late afternoon when we got to the visitor center and talked to a ranger about backpacking in the mountains.  He gave us some ideas for a short backpacking trip, and we bought a detailed trail map.  Initially, we were planning on camping a night at a Forest Service campground and, then, leaving the next morning for a two-night backpacking trip.  Discovering that the “cheap” campground hadn’t opened for the season, yet, and that the other nearby campground was $20, even for just a site with no water or electric, we decided to hike the approximate three miles into the first backcountry campsite and stay there for free.  (We just had to pay $3 for each of the two nights we would park the truck at the trailhead.)

So, we pulled out our backpacks, culled the backpacking gear we would need from our “car” camping gear, threw together a food pack for two nights and headed down the trail.  The hike in was fairly straightforward, following a Forest Service road with a gentle, upward slope and running mostly parallel to the Pemigewasset River.  We got to the campsite (The “campsite” actually consisted of about 20 sub-sites – tent pad and fire grate – at the Franconia Brook East Campsite.) just as the sun was setting, picked a site, set up the tent, filtered some water from the nearby river and had a rice dish for supper.  There was a light mist in the air, but not a soaking rain.

When we woke up the next morning (Friday), the rain had stopped sometime during the night and the tent’s rain fly was nearly dry; this would not last.  We had English muffins with honey for breakfast, filtered water for the day’s hike, broke camp and took off up the trail.  Just beyond the campsite we stayed at, we entered the Pemigewasset Wilderness and the trail narrowed to a single tread way, continuing the gentle, upward slope alongside the river.

As we reached about 2100 feet (about 4 ½ miles into the hike), it began raining – a mist at first and, then, more steadily.  The hiking got more difficult, as well, with most of the “tread way” consisting of a series of watermelon-sized rocks that had to be carefully navigated — either stepped over or on – to proceed.  Complicating matters, we didn’t know exactly how far we were going that day.  The ranger we talked to at the visitor center told us we could pretty much camp anywhere, as long as we were at least 200 feet from the trail and river.  But, once we went past about 1800 feet in altitude, there were no suitable spots for a campsite; the incline was too great and/or the forest was too dense.

We continued up the Bondcliff Trail, which led to – what else – Mount Bondcliff, at 4265 feet, and the rain also continued.  We met a couple coming down the trail, who asked us how far it was to Wilderness Trail, where we had come from about a mile or so back.  This was just as the misty rain was starting, and we were thinking about covering our packs and putting on our rain gear.  (You get hot and sweaty quickly hiking up the inclines, and you hope that you won’t need to add the rain gear quite, yet.)  The couple was fully equipped for rain and looked really wet; it was time for the rain gear.

Then, we met a group of four young men, who were also soaked and asked us if we had heard the weather for tomorrow (Saturday).  We had heard “more rain.”  They looked disheartened, so I assumed that they were on a longer trip through the mountains.  They had come from Guyot Campsite, the first designated campsite we would be encountering if we continued – about three miles up the trail, but also with at least 1000 meters in altitude.

We were both getting tired and sore (actually, ALL of us – each time we stopped to rest or have a snack, Jake would look back down the trail, as if to say, “This way, right?  Back down is this way.”  The trees were getting shorter and more windblown, and we were encountering snow/ice on the trail in some spots.  We were almost at Treeline, but with the heavy fog, we couldn’t see what almost certainly would have been expansive views.  We were at about 3600 feet, and Dan said he would give it another city block.  (We had already talked about going back down.)  We went about 50 feet, turned a corner and were facing a steep tunnel of trees and rocks, with the rain continuing and the wind picking up in force.  Dan changed his mind; he was ready to turn around.  So was I.

So was Jake.  We turned around, and Jake yanked us down the mountain.  We took turns with Jake, but unhooked him from his leash for the stream crossings; he did better on his own.

When we got down to the start of Bondcliff Trail, we went the other way (west) on Wilderness Trail a short distance before I spotted a small, level area (it looked like a very old road or railroad bed) with a fire ring that had been used before for a campsite.  We – and our sore muscles – were very, very relieved to find the site.  I figured, later, that we hiked about 12 ½ miles today – much of it over some steep, rugged terrain.  We set up camp, filtered water and had a potato dish for supper.

The next morning, we had English muffins for breakfast again, set down camp and hiked the four or so miles along the river back to the truck.  Most of the trail followed an old railroad bed, so was very level; we needed that after yesterday.  It was also raining steadily today, so we were happy to get back to the truck.  We drove east through the White Mountains and caught glimpses of what are probably magnificent views, had it not been so foggy.

We are on the road now and ran across a private Wi-Fi hotspot, so I thought I’d post what I have so far.  But, I don’t want to abuse it, so I’ll post again when we get to a public connection.

 Tim

We’re in Manchester, NH, and wanted to post a quick update on where we are, etc.  We need to get back on the road to find a place to stay tonight — hopefully, in the White Mountains.

We spent last Saturday in Hartford, CT, and we went to 4 pm mass at St. Patrick-St. Anthony in downtown Hartford.  More on that — especially for the St. Mary’s Saturday Choir — in a future post.  Suffice to say we’d visit there again.  We also saw Mark Twain’s home and Harriet Beecher Stowe’s home — both in Hartford.

We stayed one night at Massasoit State Park in Taunton, MA (southwest of Boston) and, then, two rainy nights in Provincetown, MA on Cape Cod.  Yesterday, we visited Salem, MA, and earlier today we visited Gloucester, MA.  Last night, we stayed (for free) at a campground in Harold Parker State (Massachusetts) Forest, where it wasn’t quite as rainy.  So, we began to dry out, but rain is in the forecast for tomorrow, again.  Being on the road for this long doesn’t afford us the opportunity to pick and choose “nice” weekends.   So, we take whatever comes our way and enjoy the sunny, dry days when we get them.

OK, we better get back on the road.

Tim

I’ve created a map that shows our actual route.  You will see it in the right-hand column under — what else? — “Maps”.

After the Tuckerton campground alluded to in the last blog, we continued on to…????? 
The adventure begins benignly.  We drove through the rest of New Jersey BUT we ran into rush hour traffic near New York.  It wasn’t bumper to bumper; stop and slow…yet.  We continued on and bypassed many highways nearer to New York.  We stayed on the Garden State Pkwy to avoid the worst of the traffic.  This was the plan all along.  It worked.  We drove through a bit of New York.  We could tell the driving habits of some in this area were a little “cut-throat”.  There were swerves, swoops, jockeying for position, fingers I’m sure were in there too, cut-offs, etc. 

It wasn’t until we made it to Connecticut that the FUN really began.  We had just made it to I-95 in lower Connecticut and the rush hour (which is unbelievably long with all the traffic here) was in full swing away from New York.  Now it was bumper to bumper, stop, wait, and go for 13 miles.  Tim was driving.  It was awful.  We had set our sights on Hammonasset Beach State Park to camp at and getting there was taking a long time.  We decided to keep heading there since it had all the amenities.  We got there finally and guess what?  The gates were closed because they close them at sunset WHICH WAS ABOUT 12 MINUTES AGO!!!!  THERE WAS STILL LOTS OF LIGHT IN THE SKY!!!  DENIED!!.  We went in search of another campsite which was nearby.  Signs led us there at first.  Looked like a good area for camping, all woodsy and such.  We got there and it was RV infested.  Not only that, it was $35 DOLLARS A NIGHT!!  We could stay 3 nights somewhere else for that price.  They didn’t have any campsites without electric hookup.  We left.  It was now getting dark.  We looked at our maps and info and decided to try to go to a campsite near Cockaponsett State Forest.  We didn’t know at the time it was next to it.  We traveled in the dark on a back road (kind of, this near to New York, any “back road” is going to be used a lot).  It was pretty along this route because people’s yards were lit.  It seemed very New Englandish.  We then turned on another back road.  We couldn’t find the campground which had several primitive walk in sites for free.  It was too dark to find this place so we stopped outside an eating area in Chester and asked a lady where this camping place could be.  She told us it is (she was guessing because she hadn’t been to this campsite) it would be near Cockaponsett.  She also said when we get there it would be very dark.  There are no lights in that area.  Great (sarcastic).  So we followed her directions and made it to Cockaponsett.  We were looking for a specific road called Filleys.  The roads in this area were very backwater, not paved, no lights, no people, pure woods lost (I would think it was werewolf country if such a place existed).  We slowly drove on these roads and we would see rocks and trails but no campsites but “youth sites, reservations required”.  It was very late now and we still hadn’t even seen…”Wait, on that upright log stuck in the ground, carved into it, FILLEYS ROAD”.  We went on it and it was more of the same, no campsites.  We eventually found a grassy “parking lot” and camped there FOR FREE!!  $35 dollars a campsite, gimme a break! We woke the next morning to Jake wanting attention and trying to crawl into our sleeping bags.  I didn’t tell you yet, there are many ticks in this area.  Tim found a tick on/in his knee later on this same day.  We found others not “in” us yet.  We left early and found a private campsite for $19.95 a night.  Nice place.  We then ate and took a nap.  We later drove to the beach, nice but colder.  We had a drink at a beach bar called The Pavilion.  We then drove back to Chester for dinner since it was the epitome of New England village.  It was a wine and artist night there (to our surprise).  We ate at a local place.  We saw some art.  Then we went to Middletown and saw a free concert at Wesleyan University.  A choir and orchestra were singing/playing.  At first, it was a combo of both.  Then it was the orchestra.  It was really good.  We then drove to our campsite and went to sleep.  Today’s journey is to Hartford, Connecticut. 

Write you all later,

Dan

Oh, we recently posted more photos to our Flickr site.  To see them, click “Our Flickr Site” under “My Links” in the right-hand column.  Or just click here.  Enjoy!

Hello all!  OK, a quick entry to get caught up…

Monday night we found a state park (named First Landing) near Virginia Beach.  We got in just as the sun was setting, so we wanted to get going on setting the tent up.  As we were getting out of the truck to unload our gear, a short woman with long, black hair walks up to us and says, in a New York/New Jersey? (I can’t tell the difference, yet.) dialect, “You can walk around to the empty sites for firewood if you want.  And, yea, you’re better off up here.  I’m down on the ocean side, and it’s windier than a mother-f’er.  But, I don’t know if you want this site.  It’s too hard.  And, did I tell you, you can just walk around and pick up downed wood for your fire… like that one right over there.  But, you’ll want to get it started pretty soon.”

And, I’m thinking, “Well, first we’d like to set our tent up.  And, we’d love to chat, but unless you’d like to help us, you’re kind of keeping us from that task.”

But without much of a response from us beyond nods and “yea, you’re probably right,” she looks us both over and asks (mostly to me), “Are you Jewish?”

“No.”
“Really?  Ya know, I had a couple Jewish doctors, and they were just excellent.”  She went on to elaborate on some procedure she had done by one of said doctors, but I honestly wasn’t listening too closely.  Somehow, it came up that we were from Minnesota.

“Culpepper!” she exclaimed.  “You shoulda kept Culpepper.”  She continued on about some other Vikings football players (or former)… I heard the names Moss, Moon…  Neither Dan nor I really keep up on NFL football.  Then, she dropped several other names of players in other teams, all of which might as well have fallen on deaf ears.  Dan tried to engage her with the little he had heard of the players: their run-ins with the law.  But, I tried to move out of her focus toward the truck to signal that we really wanted to start unloading our gear.  It didn’t work.

She looked at Jake, and we got all the usual questions.  “What’s your dog’s name?” “What kind is he?”  In my explaining that we’re unsure of his breed because we found him when he was – the vet guessed – about 8 months old, I mentioned that he was now about 8 years old.  She explained that she used to be a Vet Tech.  She began giving us suggestions about the various blood tests we should have done on Jake when he gets to be a certain age.  “Because he’s getting up in age.  He must be about, what, 8 years old?”  We kind of lost her in the Vet jargon, and Dan finally interrupted, “Wait, wait.  I hate to interrupt, but we need to get started on our tent if we’re going to get it set up before dark.”

“Oh, OK, but he should really get that blood test, and that collar is too big.  You really need a smaller one.  And, remember, there’s wood for your fire all around the campground.  You just need to walk around and find it.”

“OK, thanks.  Nice talking to you.”  OK, on to the tent.

The next morning, I got up, let Jake out and, then, back in the tent, and went to shower and shave – yes, I shaved for the first time since before we left – about 2 ½ weeks.  It was nice NOT shaving during that time, but it’s also nice to be clean-shaven now.  I probably won’t let it go that long again, but who knows.

I made banana wheat pancakes for breakfast; they turned out well.

We broke camp, and got on the road.  Almost immediately, we crossed Chesapeake Bay via the Chesapeake Bay Bridge and Tunnel – actually, tunnels; there are two of them.  The eastern shore of Virginia is very pretty, and we noticed some houses/farms that looked like they had been plantations – with rows of big, old trees leading to a large house.

We were going to go to Chincoteague National Wildlife Refuge/Assateague Island National Seashore, but we learned at the entrance that pets are not allowed – not even in your vehicle.  We continued up U.S. 13 into Maryland and, then, Delaware.  We stopped for the night at Killens Pond State Park, south of Dover, DE.  We stayed in the “primitive” section of the campground, which was cheaper and required a short walk to our site (about a half block).

Wednesday, we got the oil changed in the truck and continued on to Atlantic City, NJ.  Mostly, we just wanted to see the place; neither of us are gamblers and we had Jake with us.  We found “Lucy,” the giant “elephant,” walked through “her” gift shop, and took a picture, just for the cheesy factor.  Then, we found a cheap place to park near the Hilton, and walked – with Jake – down the boardwalk between the casinos/shops and the beach/ocean.  We went down quite a ways, past Trump Plaza, and, then, back again.  Then, it was time to find a campground.  After running into problems with restrictions on dogs (no dogs) at New Jersey State Parks and State Forests, we ended up at a small, private campground near Tuckerton, NJ.

More later…

Tim

The University of North Carolina is a very beautiful place in a “historic” way.  The buildings remind me of Boston with all the brick siding and boxy old world charm…bell tower included.  I’m beginning to think all campuses have this same “look” to them to appear “intellectual” enough to attract students to their “time-honored, foundation-of-knowledge”.  I wonder how many students would be attracted to a dumpy old cardboard shell of a building; even if it had the wisdom of the ancients inside?  Or, is it all eye candy to fool others into thinking “knowledge is at hand”.  Anyway, I liked a number of bushes and trees in the area.  The sidewalks were brick of varying types in different areas of the campus.  We eventually walked Jake off of the campus and next to a busy highway…whoops.  We made our way back to campus through a residential area. .  We were in an upper class neighborhood and the houses were tucked away in greenery and bright flowers.  They have Ivy for lawns on many lots.  We made it back to campus and drove away.

We have decided that Tim is WAY better at map following than I am.  He told me that I am better at getting around a place if I have seen it at least once because I remember landmarks.  Anyway, we couldn’t find highway 86.  We must have crossed it 3 times but we couldn’t find it.  We went another way back to our campsite.  The rain finally stopped, but the sun was too low in the sky to warm our campsite..I could see my breath.  After a fire, we went to bed.

Woke, to a sunny day, YYEEAAAHH!  We were off to the next camping site.  Driving, driving, driving; the campsite directions were weird and after some turning back and wandering about, we found it..Oyster Point.  Next to an estuary, it was a hot, dry, windy place with deer flies and lone star wood ticks.  Then, as we set up the tent and rain fly, A THUNDERHEAD ROLLED IN AND IT STARTED TO RAIN!!!!……AGAAIINNN!!!!  Well, it stopped within half and hour and the sky cleared after about 1 ½ hours.  We went for a short hike and then went to sleep.

I woke up after Tim.  He already had eaten and had breakfast burritos waiting for me.  Then before we cleaned up and set down to go on with our trip, we gave Jake a dental treat.  He has never had something that he chews on (verses inhales) out in a green “yard” before so what he did next was a surprise.  He buried his treat as we watched.  We laughed.  Little did Jake know, he would never see that beloved treat again as we put him in the back of the truck and drove away (evil laugh follows this statement).

The next day, we made it to Beaufort (pronounce bo-fort verses byoo-ford).  In said town was the Maritime Museum for the area.  Blackbeard apparently lived here in his day and eventually met his demise at the hands of the English navy.  They cut off his head, tied it to the yardarm (I think that’s what you call the long forward jutting arm of a sailing ship) and displayed it as they came into the next town to prove Blackbeard was dead.

No, the museum didn’t have his head on display.

It did have lots of shell types, old ship equipment and lots of history about the area.  We walked around the touristy area looking for a T-shirt shop with a Blackbeard motif. Found a lot of t-shirts but nothing I liked.  The rest of the day was almost pure truck driving.  At 3pm, we made it to a ferry crossing startpoint at Cedar point.  The next ferry was at 6pm to Ocracoke.

  How to waste time for 3 hours with a dog, class 101.
  First, use the restroom. Next, go to small gift shop.  Both of these steps to be performed with energetic little dog locked in the car with windows partially open.  Next, with dog, have late lunch on beach.  While having lunch, endure 40 mph gusts of wind off Pamlico Sound right next to you while being pelted by white sand blowing at you like a small sandstorm at times.  Your next step will be to take the dog for a walk down the driving wind beach; letting him sniff at various things and stopping him from eating unsavory stuff you don’t want coming up later in your tent.  We saw a decomposing dolphin carcass (we think, it was still a little gross but not too bad to look at..Jake wasn’t interested in it).  After said walk, step whatever in how to waste time consists of reading in the truck while your tired dog licks himself free of sand and goes to sleep.  Then, without dog, go and watch kite surfers nearby.  The wind is so strong and the kites are large like partial parachutes that when the surfer “jumps” a wave, he is literally 30 feet or higher in the air.  Then, without going out of the water, he uses the wind to get himself back at his starting point to do the same thing. This looked really cool.  The last step in the process will be after the arrival of the ferry to Ocracoke.  You will drive onto the ferry and get out of the car to winds that are in excess of what you have already endured and you will be on that ferry for another 2 ½ hours.  Enjoy.

We spent the night at Teeters, a backyard RV and tent site on Ocracoke Island in the outer banks of North Carolina.  That night, we ate at Howard’s End, a bar in a lodgelike building with license plates of cute sayings, college pennants, different country flags, and lots of other knickknacks.  It was fun and the food was good.  Tim had a fish sandwich and a Blue Moon beer and I had a hamburger with a Rogue Dead Guy beer.  After that, we drove back to the windy campsite and went to bed.

Next day, we were off and running.  Quick shower in the morning, set down the tent, eating granola snacks for breakfast, we headed for the lighthouse.  We found it.  Looked neat but we couldn’t go in.  Then we went on a search for a T-shirt.  I wanted one that wasn’t so “IN-YOUR-FACE”.  Beaufort had t-shirts as I said but why I didn’t like them is they would have nothing or something small and cute on the front (which I didn’t mind), but on the back, a huge piraty picture done in colors and sayings you could see from a satellite (not my idea of the type of thing I would wear).  This area was a favorite spot of Blackbeard.  His real name was Edward Teach.  I found said T-shirt at a place called Teach’s Hole.  The shirt (red) has about a fist-sized emblem of a Jolly Roger (skull and crossbones) and below it, says “TEACH’S HOLE, OCRACOKE ISLAND”.

We went on to Cape Hatteras and the lighthouse they have there.  We stopped at a beach to let Jake run free and tire him out as well as to see the ocean.  He was so cute as we ran around and played with him and he ran between us to play with both of us as Tim was near the water and I was halfway up the sandy beach (about 100 feet).  We collected some shells and then drove.  As a side note, gas is about $3.10 on average here at this time (we are doing all this driving and not telling you about gas prices so I thought I’d put it in).  When we reached the lighthouse we couldn’t go to the top and be on the outside little rail walk area because of the wind.  The average wind of Kittyhawk, which is nearby is around 30-40 mph (according to a Wright Brothers display at their museum for 1903).  I’d say the wind hasn’t changed much.  It definitely feels that fast or faster almost all the time.  I am wearing many layers since I get cold in 80 degree heat much less 50 degree [guess] with wind.  The lighthouse is said to be the tallest on the coast at over 200 feet high.  It is candy cane striped in black and white.  We went inside and climbed all the way up and looked out thru the door which they had open for people to see since we couldn’t go out.  The Diamond Coast is said to be the graveyard of the Atlantic with all the ships that have sank in the area.  The lighthouse was actually moved over 1500 feet to the west in 1999 since the coast has eroded away over the last 100 or so years and was only within about 100 feet of the ocean before the move (it used to be 1600 feet from the ocean way back when).  They moved it in one piece and this feat was a fantastic undertaking because of the size of this thing and trying to keep it from falling apart in the move.  We continued on.  We stopped for lunch at a place called The Fish House.  Good food.  The floors were tilted toward the water because this place used to be a real fish house and the containers they kept the fish would drain away excess water on the floor to the water edge.

Now we needed to find a campsite for the night.  On the way, we drove by big sand dunes (on highway 12 in the outer banks between Cape Hatteras and Bodie Island lighthouse)  Tim wanted to go out and walk on them but because we didn’t know where we were going to camp, we didn’t.  Also, we didn’t know if it would be allowed since when you walk on major blowing, eroding sand dunes, they move a lot.  This was displayed to us clearly because the sand was actually covering some of the road in places as the dunes were blown in that direction.  Think driving over the edge of a small but steep soft hill at over 50 mph.  It got to be about 1 foot deep at times (only about twice and only for about 3 feet long, all the rest we went around or wasn’t worth bringing up)

We eventually found a campsite really close to the Wright Brothers Museum in Kill Devil Hills.  This site was slightly creepy since they had tubs with live crabs in them.  Some of them were dead.  I assume they died fighting each other since I did see one eating another from underneath its shell, kinda like a tick embedded in your skin….EEEWWWW! 

This morning, we went to the Museum.  It has a couple of big memorials outside.  Yes it is STILL windy and I’m wearing my layers.  Then we went inside and read all the historic stuff.  Very cool. 

We have since driven to Hampton, Virginia.  Tim is doing laundry wherever he found a Laundromat while I write this blog.
Things are going well but we are hoping to find a place to stay for a longer period (longest stay we’ve had thus far is 2 nights).  Since this is the east coast, we assume we will find somewhere with many things to do and will require more than 2 nights to do them.

I think I am done with this blog entry,
Talk later,
Dan

It’s 8:30 Thursday morning, and it’s been raining almost non-stop for the last 24 hours, with no signs of letting up.  We’re at a campground in Jordan Lake State Recreation Area just south of Chapel Hill, NC.  I couldn’t sleep or just lie inside the warm, dry tent anymore, so I got up, let Jake out (but didn’t stay out with me – he obviously prefers the warm, dry tent right now), and boiled water for some tea.

We left Asheville, NC yesterday morning, and since it kept raining, we kept driving.  But I didn’t want to drive past Chapel Hill without checking it out.  Chapel Hill is known for its indie (independent) music scene, and several bands I like come from the Chapel Hill area (e.g. Superchunk, Whiskeytown, Ben Folds, and others).  There were no campgrounds close to the Durham/Raleigh/Chapel Hill area listed in “Don Wright’s Book of Free and Cheap Campgrounds,” so we had to punt – that is, look at the map for green shaded areas or little green tree icons with little green tent icons, drive toward the area and watch for signs; it almost always works.

So, we found the above-mentioned Recreation Area, the campground looks really nice, and it’s only $15 a night.  The problem is, it’s still raining pretty hard.  But, this is where we want to be, so we don our rain jackets and begin to set up our kitchen fly (tarp).  We’ve become pretty good at selecting sites that will accommodate a fly (strategically placed trees, mostly) and, since, it’s early in the season, we generally have our pick of sites.

OK, the tent will go there; there’s the fire ring; the picnic table is moveable; so we’ll put the tarp between these two trees, and we have tie-offs to these other trees.  The tarp is almost set up, and the park worker comes by to collect our fees.  He asks if we’re sure we want to camp here.  Wondering the same thing ourselves, we tell him yes.  In fact, since we still want to spend some time in the area, we tell him we’d like to stay two nights!  He tells us that a campsite is normally $15 a night, but because of the crummy weather, he’ll give us a deal and only charge us $10 a night – SWEET!  So, we tighten the last tie-offs for the fly and go to move the picnic table so that it’s under the fly.  We move it about a foot, and it won’t go any further.  AAAGH!!  Leaves, pine needles and crushed rock had been disguising a chain that’s keeping the table in its current location.  OK, go to Plan B on the fly.  We’ll put it between these two trees and pitch one side of the tarp at a real steep angle, tying off one corner using a tent stake.  Cool, it works!

We get the tent set up with little difficulty (other than the steady rain).  We get some water going on the stove for hot chocolate, heat up some left over pasta from the other day and add some stuffing that I had in the food tote.  (Yea, I know, a lot of carbs, but just what we needed for a cold rainy day; it tasted excellent!)

Wow, it’s STILL raining!  …and Dan’s still in the tent.  OK, I’ll tell you about Asheville; but, first, more hot tea to keep my hands warm.  🙂

Since we left Indianapolis and before Asheville, we had been doing really well with making our own meals: cereal, oatmeal or pancakes for breakfast; easy sandwiches or cheese and crackers with carrots and celery or fruit for lunch; and hot meals at the campsite for supper.  But, Dan and I had been talking about wanting to also “hang out” with the locals, and one of the best ways to do this is by going to coffee shops, restaurants and bars.  You can look at a map, with its multitude of symbols that can give you a good idea of the area.  And, you can drive through an area to see an area’s architecture, layout, vegetation, etc.  But, to really get a feel for an area, you need to walk its streets and visit the places where the locals hangout and talk to them.  So, this was in the back of our minds as we approached Asheville.

I had found a free campground east of Asheville that we were going to check out.  But, we wanted to check for Wi-Fi hotspots in town first.  My Ji-Wire software listed several coffee shops in Asheville, so we looked for the addresses (streets) on our map.  Here’s one in East Asheville; let’s see if we can find it.  We found the street and drove down it, watching the addresses on the buildings count up, closer to the one we were looking for.  We were looking for The Relaxed Reader.  Oh, darn, it should have been on that block on the right.  OK, we’ll go around the block and look for it again.  What does that sign say?  I think it says “Outspoken;” maybe that’s it.  OK, I’ll park.  As we’re getting out of the truck, Dan notices rainbow colors in the sign and a pink triangle in the middle of the “O.”  Cool – our people!

So, we order some beverages, connect to the internet, check email and post a couple blog entries.  It was hot on this day (near 80), so we each took turns staying with Jake outside.  A woman who had helped get our beverages and lunch came outside to have a smoke when I was out with Jake.  I asked if she owned the coffee shop, and she did.  I asked her about the GLBT community in Asheville, if there was a “gayborhood”, and about other places the community hangs out.  She said there is a pretty good concentration of GLBT folk near her shop in West Asheville, but that there is no single area that is primarily GLBT, like “Boys Town” in Chicago.  She directed us to the handful of GLBT bars in town.  After talking with her, I suggested to Dan that we see if we could find a campground closer to town, so we could come back into town later in the day.  And, we found one about 20 minutes south of town: Lake Powhatan State Recreation Area. 

We set up camp, went back into town, had a drink at both O Henry’s and Smokey’s.  We met and talked to a young man at O Henry’s who was from New Orleans and was displaced to the Asheville area after Hurricane Katrina.  After Smokey’s, we got a sandwich – and I had a local brew – at the Mellow Mushroom in downtown Asheville.

The next morning, just I was going to try to make some breakfast, it started raining, has barely stopped since then, and is still raining as we sit here in McAlister’s Deli across from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill campus.

Tim