Driving to Wichita – Day 5

Day 5, Sunday

Comfort Inn, Greenfield, Ind.

An enjoyable, less stressful day

I am on the road by 9:15 a.m. after editing one article and doing the regular morning routine. Patches of blue are peeking between feather-whisps of a mostly overcast sky. I make a quick stop at a Circle K for gas and am quickly on the interstate. Surprisingly, getting through Indianapolis isn’t too bad, not scary like the other big cities. I pass the stadium where the Indianapolis Colts play.

Traffic eases outside of the city. The driving isn’t bad except for the tedium and road conditions. The road surfaces are beat up like the hotel I spent last night in. Thump, thump, thump; whine, crunch, rumble, bloops – it can almost lull me to sleep until I hit a bigger bump. I amuse myself by trying to put words to the various noises. Often there isn’t anything that can describe the sounds.

Peaceful driving in Illinois

I cross into Illinois at 11 a.m. Illinois has a more peaceful feel, but there’s not much to see. Coming into Casey at Exit 129, there’s a sign announcing the World’s Largest Wind Chime. I don’t usually go in for these kinds of attractions, but I need a break, and I like wind chimes.

I drive into a quaint little town that is reminiscent of an old west town seen on movies. It’s Sunday and no one is around. A sign points left and I make the turn and up ahead is the end of the downtown area. My eye is immediately caught by a tall rocking chair on the left and I pull into a parking space in front of a shop/café. The wind chime is in a manicured area next to the shop.

The car temperature is 84 degrees. I open the car door and, oof, the humidity slams me in the face. Nearby is a sign that offers free trolley tours on Saturday. Too bad it’s a Sunday. I’m a day late. I grab the camera and start taking pictures then I cross the street for a closer view of the chair.

World's Largest Rocking Chair

(I read later online that this is also advertised as the largest chair in all of America at 56.5 feet and weighs 46,200 pounds! I see also there is a “battle” for world’s largest chairs with a map and info to visit other places in the U.S Casey, Ill., is home to eight Guinness World Records for largest things and touts itself as “A small town with a big heart.”) To see more about big things in Casey, visit: www.bigthingssmalltown.com. 

My eyes are not only raised to the beauty of the humongous chair, I’m also taken with the garden area around the chair. I like how they’ve used small, smooth, rounded stones around all the plants. This gives me an idea for my own garden back home.

World's Largest Wind Chime

I go back across the street and explore the area around the wind chime. This, too, is 56 feet tall and the longest chime is 42 feet. Unfortunately, the café and gift shop are not open. I’m left to mosey around on my own. There is a pull cord at the wind chime to allow visitors to hear its sound. It doesn’t allow a big pull, just enough to get the deep, mellow resonance of the chimes. Nice!

There’s not much else to do with the stores closed. I head back to the interstate stopping long enough to photograph the big yardstick near the center of town. Half an hour of tedious driving later, I see a sign for a Ponderosa restaurant in Vandalia, Ill., and stop for a delicious steak lunch with salad bar. I seldom eat steak, but when I’m traveling, I crave it. I am very happy with the meal. I’m not brave when it comes to trying different foods. I prefer the familiar when I’m in unfamiliar places.

It's a big yardstick

I’m back on the interstate for a short time when I see a Comfort Inn sign at Exit 45. It’s about another hour to St. Louis, Mo. My goal is to do the Chain of Rocks Bridge from the Illinois side. I don’t need to be in Kansas City, Mo., until Thursday, so I have plenty of time. This might be a good quitting time for today. Tomorrow morning should be cooler and a better time for walking the bridge. If I stop now, I can chill out and take a break from driving. I’ve been really pushing myself the past few days to get west.

There’s an old farm on the opposite side of the highway with farm equipment on display. Have I said how I like farms? I turn onto the ramp and feel I’m in the middle of nowhere. The Comfort Inn is the opposite direction from the gas station and busy section. Just the way I like it. Across from the hotel is a sign about the American Farm Heritage Museum which must be that farm I saw from the interstate. As it’s early, I think about going there, but it’s so hot out. I wouldn’t be able to enjoy it. I pull up to the hotel.

The desk clerk says check-in isn’t until 3 p.m. and because this is a college town, they were full last night and the rooms are still being cleaned. (College town? Where? There’s nothing here – unless it’s about agriculture.) I ask about the Chain of Rocks Bridge, but she doesn’t know anything about it. She disappears to ask others. They don’t know, either. However, she does find out Room 314 is clean and available.

I thank her (and the others she spoke with about getting me in) for their effort and load my luggage onto a trolley and push it to the elevator and make my way down the hall. I fumble the door open and I’m surprised. This is a room I expect from Comfort Inn! It’s not elegant or fancy, not new or perfect, but it’s good, clean, and under $100.

I settle in, check messages, and decide to go for a swim. If I sit too long, I won’t go. The pool is similar in size and shape as last night’s pool, but it’s much cleaner and better maintained. The handrail extends to the bottom step. I totally enjoy the 15 minutes in the water swimming back and forth and doing other water exercises.

Refreshed, I return to the room, change into a lounging gown, and rearrange a few things before settling in the easy chair by the window. I put my feet up intending to read my book. It feels so good to relax and not feel pressured to do anything. The view out the window is of a farm with barn, pastures, fences, green vegetation. I love that -- no concrete, no highway, nor businesses in sight. And it’s quiet! I don’t do much reading and end up cat-napping. Purr-fect!

Later I post a few photos and one to the Photo-a-Day Facebook page. I watch a little TV bouncing between Food Network, HGTV, and the Travel Channel. I scour the atlas during commercials trying to find a different way home. There isn’t an easier way.

I crawl into the comfy bed at 9 p.m.

End of day overview: 

Average weather: hot and humid, gorgeous clouds; 79/93 degrees

Places visited:  World’s Largest in Casey, Ill.;  Rating: 4

Miles driven today: 227

Trip total: 1,153 miles

Hours driven: 3 ½ 

Hotel:  Comfort Inn, Greenville, Ill., Room 314;  Rating: 4

Meal: Ponderosa, Vandalia, Ill.;  Rating: 4

Expenses:

Gas cost: $11.99    Meals: $23.19    Hotel: $92.59   

Driving to Wichita - Day 4

Day 4, Saturday

Comfort Inn Polaris, Columbus, Ohio

Some days the driving is not fun.

Breakfast is lost on me. It usually comes with the price of the room, but there is seldom anything that catches my fancy. I’m not usually hungry in the morning however I grab a biscuit with gravy and eat half.

Back in the room, I check messages again before doing the newspaper editing. One thing that keeps bringing my spirits down is the water ban issue back home. It seems every day the commissioners are threatening to fine anyone caught using an outside hose. There are constant leaks because of the old system of pipes and with the horrible drought this year, water levels are critical. I’ve got to stop reading that site for my own sanity, but I like to keep track of what’s going on.

I check out of the hotel before 10:30 a.m. The desk clerk says to take I-270W to avoid going into downtown Columbus. I fill the gas tank and a few minutes later, take the ramp off I-71S to I-270W… and I hate it! The traffic is heavy and I can’t see anything! There is a lot of construction, and to make matters worse, it rains – hard. Vehicles don’t slow and I feel like the walls of the concrete over passes and the surrounding construction zones and traffic are closing in on me. Tears don’t help the visibility, either. 

I want to go home! Can I possibly find another way home? Can I get a fine even if it’s raining and there are no workers about? And this is the better way through Columbus? I feel claustrophobic in cities. My mind wails and babbles. Stop it! I have to get hold of myself. Breathe!

I reach I-70W and once away from the city and out of construction areas, traffic spreads out, the land flattens, speed limit rises to 70 mph, the rain stops, and I breathe easier. I can see fields and farms and when I cross into Indiana at 12:20, it’s even better. However, the bridges, as in Ohio, have cement sides that I can’t see over. It would be nice to see water.

Leaving Ohio

The first rest stop comes 15 minutes from the border. I pull in. Hopefully, there will be someone to answer my questions. Indianapolis is getting closer. Uh, oh, another city; do I stay on I-70W or take I-465 which, on the map, looks like it goes around? 

This is another unmanned facility and before getting back in the car, I take a few photos of the ominous, black sky. Hadn’t someone at the last hotel mention tornado? 

A few moments later, the sky fell to earth

A few minutes later, I run into heavy rain again and it is the weirdest rainstorm ever. The landscape across the fields and ahead looks gray like fog, but it isn’t fog or mist. It looks like the sky is actually falling to the earth! 

And it rains so hard, and traffic doesn’t slow down in the least. How can anyone see? I’m scared witless, position myself behind a big rig, and focus on his tail lights. Oh, my, gosh, do I dare drive through Indianapolis in this? Can I take another city in the rain and poor visibility? I am brave! I can do this!

But I see a Comfort Inn sign in Greenfield and decide to call it an early night. It’s only 1:30 p.m. I need to work anyway as Saturday is the busiest work day. This hotel is easy to find right off the interstate, but the front entrance is small and I feel I’m entering the back door. It’s not very inviting. There’s a pool right off the lobby. A swim after lunch will be just fine.

The clerk says check-in isn’t until 3 p.m., but finds a room available -- Room 307. She says the time change to Central time is the Illinois border and to stay on I-70 through Indianapolis. It’s a struggle to get the luggage trolley into the narrow elevator. I push open the door to the room. Ewww, what’s that smell? It’s like dirty socks and reminds me of the hotel in Syracuse, and again I think it must be some kind of cleanser they use. It’s not a clean smell, for sure.

I return the luggage trolley to the lobby and see a Cracker Barrel across the parking lot. It doesn’t take me long to remember why I do not like these places. It’s 2 p.m. and the place is practically empty. The hostess sits me next to a large group of loud-talking people (which I don’t mind them having a good time, but with plenty of tables available, it would have been nice for a quieter place.) And the meal… bland, making me determined to never eat at another Cracker Barrel again.

Back at the hotel, I don my swimsuit and head down to the pool. It looks just OK at first, not very inviting, though. I go to get in. The handrail only goes down the first two steps. I have to let go to make it down the other three. That’s a safety issue, for sure. There looks to be pine needles around the floor of the pool which is weird as this is inside. 

I swim to the deep end and begin my usual swim exercises, but soon my attention wanders. This room is in bad shape and not well maintained. There’s no clock, the walls all have deep scratches and dirt smudges. The floor is painted an ugly, milk chocolate and looks like…. Well, I won’t say what it looks like. The more I look around and notice, the more my stomach churns. I can’t take anymore and make my way to the shallow end.

I struggle up the three steps to where I can reach the hand rail. I don’t want to touch it now that I can see it from the underside. It’s filthy and rusty. Gross! Gross! Gross! I hurry back to my room trying not to drip, but I don’t want to spend another minute in that pool area.

I set up my laptop and can’t get internet service after going through all the directions she had given. I try to call the front desk, but the phone won’t work. I get dressed and go back to the lobby yet again. She says there’s problems with the internet and will come up with me. She gets off at floor 2 because she has to go reset the internet then will come to my room.

She can’t get the phone to work either and after returning with new cables, she finally brings back a different phone. 

I settle down to check messages and finish the work for the week. I post on Facebook about the crappy hotel rooms. Friends suggest swappig to Hampton Inns. But I’m a Choice Hotel member and I loved the Comfort Inns when I journeyed south. I write in my journal while watching TV.

End of day overview: 

Average weather: rainy, humid, 82-73 degrees 

Miles driven today: 168

Trip total: 926 miles

Hours driven: 3

Hotel: Comfort Inn IN086, Greenfield, Ind; Room: 307; Rating: 2

Meal: Cracker Barrel; Rating: 2

Expenses:

Gas: $22.98  Meals: $26.65  Hotel: $106.39   

Traveling to Wichita Day 3

Day 3, Friday

Comfort Inn, Painesville, Ohio

I’m up by 5 a.m. The work table is small and not comfortable for anyone with a laptop, journal, and logbook. I skip the journal and write up the first two traveling days for the blog, however, I can’t access “new post” on my blog site. I waste time flubbing around with it and finally give up. I fill out Trip Advisor reviews for the Erie Canal Tours and the Comfort Inn in Syracuse before packing everything up for the day’s journey.

I ask the lady at the counter about area attractions saying I don’t want to go to downtown Cleveland and I want some place quiet. She suggests Holden Arboretum in Kirtland, Ohio, half an hour from the hotel. 

At 9:25 a.m. the temperature is already 81 degrees under sunny skies. I’d like to drive for awhile before taking a break, but when I reach the exit and see the Holden Arboretum sign I decide to take the woman’s suggestion.

I drive and drive feeling like I’m veering too far from the interstate and getting into the middle of nowhere. Three times I almost turn around, but something compels me to keep going and I finally see the entrance sign. (It really is only half an hour from the hotel; it just feels like a long time.) There’s an overall peacefulness about the entire area that permeates my soul the minute I pull off the road. I need this after yesterday’s stressful interstate driving. 

The actual visitor’s center building is farther along. I buy a general admission ticket at a little ticket booth for $10 and for another $4, one for a canopy walk which also covers the 219-step tower. I’m not sure I can handle climbing 219 steps, but a canopy walk sounds very interesting. The young woman says the canopy walk is about a 15-minute hike. 

I find a parking space and a short walk takes me to the visitor’s center. The middle section of the inside is open and cavernous. They offer many educational and research programs here.

Holden Arboretum, Kirtland, Ohio

The Holden Arboretum property covers 3,600 acres with over 20 miles of hiking trails and cultivated gardens, and is considered the largest arboreta in the U.S. The Audubon Society has named it an important bird area. There are more than 120,000 plants documented with themed displays, recommended-for-the-region sustainable plants, gardens, and conservation areas.

They also offer hour-long tram guided tours along with dozens of educational programs and events. Visit www.holdenarb.org for more information. 

One of the trails heading off past the garden

I approach the information area and explain my walking issues to the woman behind the desk. She says she will give me a special pass so I can park closer to the canopy walk. I see a garden out the huge back windows and decide to check that out first.

This is the Holden Butterfly Garden and the view outside the door is more spectacular than what can be seen from inside. I step out onto a terraced deck and immediately begin taking pictures. This is absolutely gorgeous! There are flowers, shrubs and lily ponds, with water tumbling over rocks to the pond on one side of the bridge and a fountain shooting water into the air on the other. The layered terrace leads down to a brick path which slopes down to a pond and over a bridge. Many flowers and shrubs, so many I can’t name, are in bloom on both sides of the trail. The colors are amazing. I would love to have these in my garden back home. I meander across the bridge and onto a grassy rise and paths amid flower gardens with fields beyond. 

I could stay here all day

Across the bridge is there is choice in direction

The colors, textures, and patterns are incredible. The trail continues across a field, but I turn back and loop around to make my way along the grassy path that meanders the far side of the pond. Benches are strategically placed to allow one to sit and contemplate. The chirp of birds and the trickling water sounds are soothing to the soul. Oh, yes, I need this after the busyness of the last couple of days. I take my time even though the sun is starting to get to me.

What colors!

I wander around, up a slope and down and cross another bridge circling back to the building. I sit under a pergola in the shade with the visitor’s center at my back, get out notebook and pen, and look across the pond. I want to write a poem, but my mind is so boggled by the beauty, no words come. I could just sit here all day.

A perfect spot to rest out of the hot sun

What a view from the resting spot

Pink water lilies started popping up

Wait! Where did that pink water lily come from? I didn’t see it before. There’s another over on that side, then another. It’s like they are popping-up right before my eyes only I don’t actually see it happen. The blossom is suddenly just there. Oh, of course, there has to be pictures. I jump up to get various angles of the blooms.

And white ones on the water fountain side

But the sun is brutal and the humidity is getting to me. It’s affecting my breathing. I feel woozy and sick. Uh oh, I am not going to be able to do the canopy walk in this heat. I explain my dilemma inside and the lady returns my $4. Darn, I would have enjoyed the canopy walk.

I leave the parking area feeling a little downhearted that I can’t do the walking I used to do. I would make the attempt, but the heat would do me in. I love this place; these types of places. I hope I can find more places like this. I stop for photos in a couple of places on the way back to the main road. 

I’m back on I-90W by 11:15 a.m. and soon take I-271S which by-passes Cleveland. Oh no. There’s a division – I-271S Expressway and I-271S Local Traffic. What does that mean? Does it require a special pass? I take my chance and stay to the left on the expressway. Even though an expressway, it doesn’t mean it’s easier getting through the outskirts of Cleveland, though. There’s a lot of traffic and the speed limit drops from 70 miles per hour to 60 and is 50 through construction areas (of which there is a lot and few pay heed). It’s funny how a drop in speed limit feels so much slower. This is steering wheel clenching and stressful. My back aches and my head pounds. 

Interstate 271S goes on and on and there’s nothing spectacular to look at and ends up being another day of boring driving. I reach I-71S and it’s not much better. I get a glimpse of a farm every once in awhile. What’s really disappointing is that bridges all have concrete walls on both sides that I can’t see over so there aren’t any river or water views. I suppose it’s good to focus on the traffic and road.

There are various signs before exits: area attractions, lodgings, food places, and the last is places to get gas. I reach the outskirts of Columbus, see a Comfort Inn sign and pull off the interstate. I want to call it an early day because I need to work. However, once off the highway, I have no idea which way to go as there are no more signs. I can see signs above a Hilton, a Residence, and a couple of other hotels from the traffic light, but no Comfort Inn sign. I turn right and drive for a bit then make a turn to try to get back figuring the hotel should be near the interstate. I take another road and then double back again. These are all multi-lane roads with lots of traffic. 

Polaris signs are everywhere and this entire section of Columbus seems to be full of huge shopping malls, all named Polaris. I am totally lost and confused. Did some developer buy up all this land and name everything after himself? 

About Polaris

According to Wikipedia, Polaris Fashion Place, owned by WP Glimcher, encompasses a 1,200 acre retail plaza, outdoor promenade, restaurants, and two-level shopping mall featuring eight major anchor stores and more. There are also over 100 other commercial and residential developments in this area. 

I finally stop at the Residence Inn for directions (Comfort Inn isn’t far) and shortly I’m checked into the hotel. The good-sized room is on the first floor with a king-sized bed; a nicer room than the previous two, but not great. I would love to take the time to go for a swim in the indoor pool. I have too much work, though. (I always panic that I won’t get it done in time, but I manage to do so.) Life is good.

But what is that loud music playing? At first I think it’s from the next room. It’s not, it’s coming from outside somewhere. It’s that level of noise where I can hear the bass and thumping, but not quite loud enough to hear what the songs are.

I set up the laptop and call Papa John’s for delivery then check messages. Awww, my kitty, Pele, sent me an email (helped by my good friend Nan McCarthy, Pele’s Auntie Nan, who is taking care of my baby puss while I’m gone). How touching. I miss my fur-baby so much! My eyes leak. How precious is this: 

Hi Mom,

Auntie nan came over yesterday morning for a visit. She brushed me, checked that I had plenty of food, and cleaned out my litter box. Then we had some tummy rubs and sat and watched the birdies out the slider. They looked confused, because there was no food. Auntie said Leo greeted her when she arrived and helped her check the plants, which all looked fine. I ate some of the wet food while she was there. Auntie was wondering what you mix with what for the wet food. I told her she should go get the stuff I like, but she said she didn’t know what brand it was. I’m going to work on that ....

Miss you,

Love,

Pele

Leo is the neighbor's cat who keeps me company when I'm gardening.
Unfortunately I’d run out of Pele's favorite food before leaving home and although I’d gone to three different stores, none had it. (I can’t always find it.) I settled for a couple other different kinds. 

I chow down a couple slices of Papa John’s pizza while I work on the newspaper. We are shooting for a 20-page edition this week as compared to the regular 24. This will be a little easier on me, too. I put together the docket, community calendar, and edit the editorials in the folder for this week.

I next import 63 photos taken during the day, edit four, and post one of the pink water lilies to the Photo-a-Day challenge. 

By this time I’m totally brain dead. I move some things around for the night and settle to watch a little TV before bed. I write in the journal during commercials. The outside music stops about 8 p.m. and I crawl between the clean white sheets of the bed at 9.

End of day overview: 

Average weather: sunny, humid, 81-88 degrees

Places visited: Holden Arboretum          Rating: 5

Miles driven today: 173

Trip total: 758 miles

Hours driven: 4

Hotel:  Comfort Inn Polaris, Columbus Ohio    Rating: 3

Meal: Papa John’s     Rating: 3

Expenses:

Site fee: $10    Meals: $21.99     Hotel: $103   

Day 2, Thursday

Comfort Inn, Buckley St., Syracuse, NY

It’s a restless night; not that anything is particularly wrong, the bed is comfy ‘n’ all, just after the first two hours I cannot get back to sleep. My mind keeps “writing” all night. I finally give up trying to sleep, crawl out of bed at 3:45 a.m., and make coffee; it’s not good, but not bad. I settle at the computer, and now that I’m ready to write, the words are spent. I struggle with the writing between the journal and the blog and in the end, the blog isn’t done and I feel like I’ve wasted a lot of time.

The invoice for the night’s stay is slid under the door. Yikes! This is the most expensive place I’ve ever stayed and as rundown as the place is, it’s certainly not worth the $204. I don’t even want to think about what the holiday weekend price would be. I check Google Maps and find it’s five hours to I-271 which will take me south from I-90. I’m ready to move on from this disappointing place. 

I comment on the price on checking out, and the very nice clerk behind the desk says it’s because today is the start of the New York State Fair and it’s also freshmen orientation at Syracuse University. She said the hotels jack the price. I walk out of a building disappointed, but get a chuckle when I see two guys smoking in front of a No Smoking sign.

In spite of getting up early, I’m not on the road until 8:55 a.m. It’s raining and 75 degrees. I pray this storm makes it to New Hampshire. I’m still upset by the exorbitant hotel costs. It’s not fair when I’m just passing through and I’m not here for the local events. I follow the woman’s directions to get back to the thruway, get the toll ticket and head west. 

What amaze me are the huge billboards along the thruway that are on the farther side of fields. How is that safe driving trying to read those? One catches my eye about the Niagara Falls Museum. From what I can see, it sounds like it’s right on I-90. That would be cool. Maybe I will go to the falls in spite of saying earlier I wouldn’t.

I reach Buffalo, see a sign that says I-290 Niagara Falls, and choose to stay on I-90 looking for that Niagara Falls Museum. All my attention focuses on the driving. Driving through the city of Buffalo is horrendous with the rain, heavy traffic, and construction areas. It’s a nightmare with on and off ramps, over and under, bridges, buildings, etc., and then there is the toll in Buffalo. It cost me $6.50 to get from Syracuse to this point. No, the attendant tells me, this is not the end of the thruway. 

I pass the Exit for I-90 which also loops around Buffalo to Niagara Falls, but I want out of New York. A mile or so down the road is another ticket booth and farther along at the last toll booth it cost another $3.15. The entire thruway system from Albany to past Buffalo cost $16.05 (counting the two times I got off). Oh, I so want to find another way home, but to do so would mean I wouldn’t do Niagara Falls. I’m not sure I want to go there anyway.

Today turns out to be a day of long, boring driving with not much to look at. I did see a few barns and silos that catch my fancy and I even get a photo of one. I cross into Pennsylvania at 12:10 p.m. and stop for lunch an hour later. Golden Corral offers a huge buffet with many choices. It’s not spectacular food, but you can fill up for a reasonable price.

On the Interstate

Tires hum

Making different sounds

Along various sections

Of the interstate

Thumps and bumps

drones and whines

Zzzzzzzoops and clacks

all at 55 to 70 mph

Cement, tar, grooved areas

old broken segments

the noises and the jarring

keep me from dozing

Flashes of green

glimpses of vegetation

eyes need to stay

on vehicles and traffic patterns

On and on

hour after hour

passing some

others passing me

I wiggle in my seat

when legs and butt go numb

shake arms and hands

when back and shoulders ache

Anything to get

another half hour 

putting home

so very far away.

--Sasha Wolfe

Another of those farms I love.

One highlight of the day is that both Pennsylvania and Ohio have real visitors’ centers. I pick up maps and brochures. I consider doing a 13-mile drive around Presque Isle in Erie, Pa., as the lady at the visitor center suggested, but I stay on I-90W. I want to get as far west as possible before turning south.

I end up at a Comfort Inn in Painesville, Ohio, east of Cleveland for the night. The clerks are awesome and offer to help with my luggage, but I turn them down and get everything to my room. This room is small with two queen beds. Fine for a single person, but it would be tight with two people. I unload my gear and return the luggage trolley to the lobby. I change into a bathing suit back in my room and head to the indoor pool. Oh, that feels so good after the 90 degree heat outside. I spend 15 minutes constantly moving and return to my room a little after 4 p.m. I change into a lounging gown and settle in to check messages and work.

End of day overview: 

Hotel:  Comfort Inn, Painesville, Ohio     Rating: 4

Meal:  Golden Corral    Rating: 4

Average weather: 75/90 degrees

Miles driven today: 310

Trip total: 585

Hours driven: 5 ½ 

Expenses:

Gas cost: $20.66   Tolls: $9.65   Meals: $10.90   Hotel: $117.52

Day 1, Wednesday

Hillsborough, N.H. 

This is it – the leaving. I’ve been relatively calm this morning after being in panic-mode the past few days, but the adrenaline is kicking in. I head out the door at 8 a.m. The sun is shining, the sky bright, and the temperature is 58 degrees. The goal is to reach Herkimer, N.Y., where I will take an Erie Canal tour. Google Maps says Herkimer is a four-hour drive. It’s also where the Herkimer diamond mines are – which are not on my agenda for this trip.

I cross into Vermont an hour later and after taking the long way through the city of Brattleboro, Route 9 narrows and begins its long, winding, ascent up Hogback Mountain. This is my third journey along this route, but my first during summer. Vegetation and trees are green, however this year’s severe drought shows in the rivers which are big, tree-lined ditches in the landscape with dry, rock-filled bottoms in which water-trickles meander a pathway through thousands of rocks. In some places, the rivers and brooks are just long trails of dry rocks between high bankings. Still, I love the winding road up and down over the other side of the mountain. This is one of my favorite routes to drive; it’s fun and interesting.

There is a steady line of traffic skirting around Bennington, Vt., on Route 279 and crossing into New York, the countryside opens up into long rolling hills and farmland with lines of trees and vegetation separating large sections. The traffic is heavier than I prefer. I can’t take time to look around. But the driving is enjoyable and the vibrant tunes on the CD player keep my mood light.

I love the New York countryside! It’s not that New Hampshire and Vermont are not beautiful, but there’s something about New York I can’t quite put my finger on. Is it because of the open fields and rolling hills? Is it the lines of trees and vegetation that seems to delineate one large open area from another? Or is it those huge, beautiful (and sometimes rundown) farms and barns with gigantic and often multiple silos?

I pass through Troy, N.Y., get on I-87S and soon pick up my ticket at the toll booth at Exit 1 for I-90W, which is the New York Thruway. You get a ticket every time you enter the thruway and whatever exit you get off at, designates the amount of toll. Those who travel the thruway often purchase Easy Pass tags.

It’s beautiful driving along the Mohawk River. The traffic thins and I enjoy the scenery. I pass a couple of places that say something about Erie Canal locks, but I don’t stop. I need to be in Herkimer by 1 p.m. I definitely want to stop at a couple of these other places on the trip home, though. I am fascinated by the engineering of such structures.

I make it to Herkimer in time to get a ticket. These tours often fill up and pre-booking is recommended online, however, I hadn’t wanted to take the chance in case I didn’t make it. I took the chance and lucked out. There’s a little time to browse through the gift shop before boarding. I want to come back in after the tour to get a book on the building of the Erie Canal. 

It is a beautiful day for a boat ride. Another woman traveling alone, Sharon Kravis of Amsterdam, N.Y., and I start conversing while waiting in line and we sit together on the top deck during the trip aboard the Lil Diamond.

Brief Friendship

A smiling face

warms the heart

after hours

of solitary driving

Two women

traveling alone

share a table

share conversation

Both admit preference

to being along

Both admit joy

at good conversation

Two women

two strangers

for a couple hours

become friends.

--Sasha Wolfe

I love history and I’m fascinated by canals and know little about them. Unfortunately, the narration is a recording that has been played too many times or the speakers are bad. It is hard to listen to all the static and the sssssss to the words and sometimes the sounds are ear-blasting. Very few people are listening and talk amongst each other and to strangers.

A little Erie Canal information

(gathered from the narration and various websites)

The Erie Canal was constructed to connect the five Great Lakes to the Atlantic Ocean. Construction began in 1817 and was completed in 1825, 363 miles long with 36 locks and a difference in elevation of 565 feet. Workers had to cut a 40 foot wide channel, four feet deep. The soil removed was placed on the downhill side to form the towpath. Horses and mules on the towpaths could pull the early boats along the canals. This was an easier, quicker way to get goods and people across the state and to farther areas than going over land. The canal has been enlarged three times.

Below are some components to the canal system:

Locks are elevators which lift or lower boats to the next level of the waterway. (There is a 565-foot elevation difference due to the land rise between the Hudson River and Lake Erie.)Western New York also has lift bridges which are vehicle bridges over the canal which lift to allow boats to pass underneath. There are moveable dams which are used to regulate water flow between Schenectady and Fort Plain, New York. Dam gates can be lowered to form navigable pools or raised to allow ice and debris-filled waters to flow. There are guard gates which can be lowered to isolate sections for emergency purposes, repairs, winter freeze protection, etc.

Here are some other terms regarding the canal system:

Canalized are sections of rivers or lakes that have been modified for the canal. Land cuts are areas totally excavated for the canal (such as most the original towpath era canal system) and not the canalized sections of rivers. 

The Erie Canal today, because of modifications and expansions, is now also referred to as the 20^th Century Barge Canal, New York’s canal system, and the New York State Canal System (which includes other canals in the state).

I struggle to listen to tidbits of the tour narration and pick up:

The tour takes us through Lock E18 and back. The guard gate we pass under is lowered in the winter (with one at another end?) so the canal can be drained in this section. The Mohawk River runs parallel to this land cut. This section is No. 3. The Mohawk Valley was/is a valley of immigrants; diverse people with diverse foods. The main thoroughfare through Syracuse was once part of the Erie Canal. 

Soon, though, I am up moving around to take pictures. People are so nice and graciously move aside so I can get good shots. Some of us chat and exchange the “Where are you from?” conversation starters. One lady is part owner of the Sky View Motel in Bartlett, N.H. I am excited. I remember staying there once many years ago. She said it’s been in her family for years.

The scenery along the river/canal is beautiful, green, quiet, and peaceful. My eyes follow the towpath alongside. Many towpaths are now walking and biking paths. I see a bald eagle, but he is flying away and I can’t get a good picture.

We reach Lock E18 in Jacksonburg, N.Y. The boat slips into the lock at 383 feet. The door swings shut behind us and the water is let out into tunnels. We slowly drop 20 feet as the next level of water is 363 feet. It takes about seven minutes and cement walls rise on both sides. The huge door slowly swings open and when it’s clear, the boat moves forward. We turn around where the canal merges with the Mohawk River and make our way back to the lock to begin the journey upward 20 feet as water is now pumped into the lock.

Entering the lock, water level 383 feet

Once the doors are closed, the boat is lowered

Once at the correct level, the  huge doors open 

Heading back into the lock to return

The recorded narration is turned back on. I’m quickly bored by it and the too-fast talking. My brain won’t take it in. Plus, it’s hard to hear with all the static. It’s like listening to an old photograph record with a bad needle or a radio station when you can’t quite tune it in. Sometimes I want to put my fingers in my ear the recording is so shrill. No one else seems to be paying attention, either, as there are conversations going on everywhere. I ask the captain for a photo and he gives permission.

The temperature is in the 90s when we get back to the shop. I am so hot and sweaty at this point that I can’t wait to get to my car and turn on the air conditioner. I forget I wanted to go back inside the gift shop and get a book about the canal. I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten all day.

I stop at the thruway toll booth for a ticket and I’m soon heading west. My original intent was to spend the first night in Utica, but the break from driving by taking the tour refreshed me and I keep going. This is what can be fun with not booking hotels ahead of time. I can change my mind and be totally spontaneous and I want to get farther west.

While the eastern part of New York was beautiful with huge farms, rolling green landscapes, and the rivers, the area after Herkimer is boring. I stop at Schuyler Rest Stop remembering the nice visitors’ centers traveling south where there would be racks of brochures on area attractions and live attendants who could make suggestions on places to visit and book hotel rooms. 

This place has a McDonald’s, an ice cream counter, a tacky gift shop, and some crappy vending machines. There are no brochures, no visitors’ info. What a wasted stop! I continue on my way and eventually see a Comfort Inn (my favorite hotel) rising high above and off-ramp near Syracuse. I quickly take that exit. Uh, oh, the ramp swings around and I’m heading in the wrong direction and coming onto I-81S.

I ask the toll booth attendant as I’m fishing out the money about the Comfort Inn. She says this is the correct exit and I should take the first exit off I-81S. I do that, but at the end of the ramp, get totally confused. I drive for awhile and finally stop at a little ice cream place. The young girls have no idea where the Comfort Inn is, but one pulls out her cell phone and is able to give me clear directions back the way I came.

I find the hotel, NY342 Comfort Inn & Suites Airport, Buckley Street, and I am lucky to get a room. There are only four left. The hotel is packed because it’s the start of the New York State Fair and freshmen orientation at Syracuse University, and it’s coming into Labor Day Weekend. (Leave it to me to be traveling during an expensive time of year.)

The hallways are hot and have a dirty sock smell (I think it’s from some kind of cleaner.) I open the door to my room and that same odor hits me in the face. Ugh! I settle in hoping my presence will help. I was going to take a swim, but there are too many kids in the pool. 

This hotel has a cute indoor café near the pool area. I sit at a small bistro table and order a pina colada and chicken tenders. For once, a TV is showing a program I don’t mind watching “American Pickers,” however, by the time my food arrives, a noisy group arrives and the chance of a quiet meal is gone. The food is horribly salty, but at least I can eat enough to fill me.

I return to my room to do a little work before bed. I spray a bit of my perfume around trying to dissipate the stale smell. At least the bed looks clean. I crawl between the sheets before 9:30 p.m. It’s comfy and it doesn’t take long to fall asleep.

End of day overview: 

Hotel: Comfort Inn & Suites, Buckley St., Syracuse, N.Y.; Sasha rating: 2    

Meal: Atrium Café at the hotel; Sasha Rating: 3

Places visited: Erie Canal Tour, Herkimer, N.Y.; Sasha rating: 4

Average weather: 66-90 degrees

Miles driven today: 275 miles

Trip total: 275 miles

Hours on the road: 7

Expenses:

Gas cost: $28.34   Tolls: $6.40   Admissions: $19   Meals: $27.97   Hotel: $203.89

Writing Travel Memoirs

I'm back into my dilemma about writing. I go on an adventure and want to write about the whole story. I want people to get the full version. I want them to know what it's like to travel; to give those who don't get the chance the ins and outs about the adventure. I want to give readers the exciting aspects along with the parts that are disappointing or mundane.

Yesterday I spent the entire morning editing photos and writing about Day 1. I took the original quick blog writing I did, my journal notes, and the notes I wrote in the little notebook I carry with me. I wrote up a long detailed version and then I copy and pasted it into a new document and removed most of the personal commentary about the traveling. Am I being true to myself if I do a condensed version? 

I loved my book “Too Cold for Alligators” which was published in 2014, but was it too personal for readers? My goal is to give people the full experience of traveling; the disappointing and stress along with the exciting and fun parts. I want people to know what it’s really like driving the interstates, the chance to be spontaneous and stop at places that catch my eye, and not knowing where I’ll be spending the night.

But maybe people don't want full details (unless murder or gory accident is involved). They want the happy story. Which is understandable, but life isn’t all sunshine and roses. And, although I want to highlight fascinating places I visit, the journey isn’t an advertisement for those places.

How can readers get the full understanding of what it's like to travel if stories are only about the good parts? No one travels without personal issues happening or emotional aspects kicking in. Why can't those be allowed in the writing? They are part of the journey, after all.

So, do I follow my heart and tell my story or do I do what I think will sell? There are pros and cons to both sides. I know what most people will say: Follow your heart. 

My heart says to take people on the journey with me. Let them feel what I felt, see what I saw. Let them experience the excitement along with the disappointment. In the end, it was an incredible experience and I visited some amazing places.

Day 16: Thursday, the Drive Home

My apologies for putting the last part of the trip in the beginning, but there was a bit of a mix-up between my laptop which I took on the trip and the Mac which I use at home. I blogged a couple of days while traveling using an old blog site, however I fell behind. I will catch up.

I am bound and determined to get through life and travel without a GPS, but sometimes… 

I leave the hotel at Niagara Falls at 1 p.m., the temperature is 86 degrees, and the gas gauge reads ¾ full. The goal is to drive for a couple of hours, find another hotel, and make the final push for home tomorrow. The sky is overcast and not long into the drive, it begins to rain. Ugh, not again. I’ve driven through more rain on this trip than we’ve had all summer (it seems). 

I reach the outskirts of Syracuse and see a sign for a Hampton Inn. OK, this will be a good stopping point and I pull off the thruway, pay the toll while trying to see all the signs at the end of the ramp so I know which lane to be in for the hotel. I take a right expecting to see the hotel nearby. No signs of the hotel although I see a tall Super 8 sign above all buildings farther down the road. I never actually see that hotel, either, as I go through traffic light after traffic light.

As is often the case, things don’t go as planned. I finally give up and turn around (especially as I’m heading west again and I want to be going east). I return through all those lights, stop at the toll booth for another ticket and I’m back on I-90E. At Exit 32, just before Utica, I see another Hampton Inn sign, take the ramp, pay another toll and this time ask the attendant where to find the Hampton Inn. 

Her directions are a bit long and she ends by saying, “It’s only about a 10-minute drive.” Oh, dear. I take the road she says and the next as she directed, but by then I was forgetting. Had she said left or right? I swear she said Hartford, so I must be going the right way and I drive and drive and suddenly, I find myself in Utica and there’s the thruway again and no sign of a Hampton Inn or any inn for that matter. 

The frustration and confusion spill out of my eyes as I get back on the thruway. The gas is getting low at this point. I probably should have filled the tank before heading east again, but by now, I’m a bit of a wreck. Traffic is heavy and no one slows down for the rain. Lightning flashes – two big jagged streaks to the ground. The tears added to the rain diminish my vision further.

I am sick of the driving, the traffic, and the rain, and I’m tired of not finding the Hampton Inns. My body aches from sitting. I have trouble seeing the road and focus on the vehicle in front of me. Maybe I’m not cut out to be a traveler and a travel writer. Maybe this was all a mistake and I should have just stayed home to begin with. I don’t care anymore, I’m going home tonight! It will be difficult as I seldom drive after dark anymore and the rain makes it worse. However, if my calculations go well, I should be home by 10 p.m. I can do this!

But first I need gas and stop at a travel center on the interstate. That is my first break in three hours and shortly, I’m eastbound again. And at 5:30, I drink the last of my water. Uh, oh, I should have picked up a couple more bottles while I was stopped.

Lightning flashes across the gray-brown sky. I grip the steering and continue on. It’s a bit discouraging because I was looking forward to this drive during daylight when I can see the Mohawk River. There are a few sections to traverse before I get home that I know are going to be scary in the dark, especially in unfamiliar areas.

The first is getting on I-87N from the thruway. I pay my last toll and the attendant thinks Route 7 is Exit 6. I take the ramp building up speed for the interstate, round the corner, and slam on my brakes. Five (or more) lanes of solid lines of traffic are stopped with these three lanes merging onto I-87 with at least two other lanes merging from the far right from who knows where. I don’t know how many lanes are on the interstate. Traffic inches forward.

I’m behind a big semi which I can’t see around. I have no idea how long this goes on. Is it like this every evening? A mile or so later, there is a sign stating an accident at Exit 5. This is only Exit 2. Oh, there goes my getting home by 10 p.m.

What surprises me is how courteous drivers are. If someone wants to change lanes, he is easily let in. Merging traffic from exits 2, 3, and 4 are allowed in. The speed picks up a little and Exit 5 is passed and I reach Exit 6. Uh, oh, this says Route 7 goes west. I continue to Exit 7 hoping there is a Route 7 east. Ah, yes, east, I drive continuing down into Troy through many traffic lights. I pass a restaurant I stopped at on previous trips south. Wait a minute! When did I cross the Hudson River?

The night gets darker and the rain continues. I pass through Hoosick and wonder if Route 279 around Bennington, Vt., coming west also goes east. It does. There is one spot where I don’t know whether to go right or left and I come to a complete stop in the V. The one car behind me zips past. I choose to go right and at the end of the ramp, the sign says Vermont Route 9 with an arrow pointing left. Yes!

The trip across Vermont on Route 9 is an adventure unto itself. The speed limit is 50 mph in most places. It’s a beautiful, curvy drive during the day but at night, in the dark and the rain, and feeling like I’m driving through an unlit tunnel, I am scared out of my wits. The only light is from my headlights, the vehicles behind and in front of me and the occasional house or store. The headlights behind me create an odd reflection in the side window and I keep thinking something is coming at me. All I can do is to devote complete attention on the car in front of me and when he gets too far ahead, I watch the white line on the right hand side of the road. Sometimes I get too far over and hit those rumble strips and the noise makes me jump. 

The road rises up and over Hogback Mountain and then down and often does not have a white line, but a guard rail which is scarier than the white line. There is still at least one vehicle on my tail. I am surprised he never passes when he has the opportunity. Maybe he’s doing what I am and concentrating on the vehicle in front. Headlights from oncoming cars blind me for those few seconds before they pass and one hits a huge puddle that slams water into my windshield. I almost have a heart attack. My hands and arms ache from gripping the steering wheel so hard. It’s one petrifying experience!

I reach Brattleboro and lose the car in front of me. I take I-91N for a short stint and due to the construction there is only one claustrophobic narrow lane with cement walls on both sides. My exit comes up and I can’t see where to turn and pop my high beams on for a second. Then I’m going around the rotary and soon cross the New Hampshire state line. There is still that one car behind me.

The next scary spot is the round-about being constructed in Keene. There are so many barrels I have no idea where the road is, where to turn, and am very grateful for a car in front of me. Route 9 makes a left and that initial section is freshly tarred with no lines yet painted. There are just little white flag things to show where the lines will go. Sometimes I can’t even tell if I am in the right lane. The car behind me sticks close.

Finally, after what seems like forever, I reach my Hillsborough exit. The car behind me goes straight. A few minutes later, I’m home. Thank heavens the light goes on when I open the garage door. It takes three tries before I safely back into the garage. (It’s the first time coming home after dark without any other lights on.) 

I open the door to the house and turn on the hall light. Pele is in the dining room staring at me. Her fur is all puffed out and her eyes are huge wondering who is coming in the door at this time of night.

“Kitty, I’m home!” I call. She comes running and sits up on her hind legs stretching her front paws to me. I scoop her up and hug her as tight as I dare. “I missed you so much, baby!” I croon into her fur. She purrs and purrs and rubs against my face letting me know she missed me, too.