A Journey Through New England and Israel
Copyright (c) 2016 Paul Katz
A Note For On-Line Viewing
What follows is a trip journal, a travelogue. I've used a blog platform for writing this journal, but it is not a blog. Blogs typically have the latest entries appearing first. Normally, you have to scroll down the page to see older entries, or navigate to older pages in the blog. In this case, I wanted the journal to appear in chronological order from the beginning of the trip to the end. So when you get to the end of the page, click on the "older posts" link, which actually takes you forward in time to the next day in sequence.
The bottom of the page also references the months of October and November. Ignore these. They have nothing to do with the dates of the actual entries. Rather, they are artifacts of my tricking Blogger to put the entries in chronological order.
Prologue
You may think that Sabbaticals are just for college professors, and that they are a year long. I am not a college professor, but I did get a sabbatical. And while it was not a year long, it was long enough. In 2006, I went to work for a high-tech startup called Fulcrum Microsystems. As startups tend not to pay as much as companies that actually make a profit, they have to find other ways to compete for talent. One way that Fulcrum competed was to promise employees a 4-week sabbatical after 7 years of service. A sabbatical is extra vacation time on top of the normal allotment, but it must be taken all at once. The idea is to give the employee some rest from the stress of work, returning refreshed and re-energized and ready to work hard for another 7 years. For many startups, that could be a bit of a joke, as most don't last 7 years, but as I was joining Fulcrum in the 7th year of its existence, and as it was on a solid path toward an IPO (initial public offering), enjoying a sabbatical 7 years hence was a reasonable possibility at Fulcrum.
In 2011, five and half years into my tenure at Fulcrum, the company was in serious danger of going down in flames. Smelling a bargain, we were acquired by Intel before it was too late. It didn't make us all rich, but we still had jobs, for which we were thankful. And wouldn't you know, Intel had a sabbatical program too - an even better one: eight weeks off after 7 years of service. The only problem was that they would not count the years worked at Fulcrum, so I was back to zero and wouldn't be taking mine until 2018 at the earliest.
A bit more than 3 years after the acquisition, Intel announced a new sabbatical program. They would continue to offer 8 weeks off after 7 years of service, but now were also offering 4 weeks off after 4 years of service. I was just a few months away from marking my 4th anniversary with Intel and having been deprived of my Fulcrum sabbatical at nearly the last minute, I was taking no chances on this one; it took me all of four nanoseconds (a nanosecond is one billionth of a second) to decide I would invoke the 4 weeks off just as soon as I was eligible.
The next step was to decide what to do with four whole weeks of rest and relaxation. I began to fantasize about long days playing guitar, riding my bike, going to the beach, flying radio controlled airplanes, and dabbling in hobbies long dormant and household projects long awaiting my attention. I was suddenly awakened from my reverie by Sandra's suggestion. Well, not really a suggestion, more like a statement of fact: we would take a 4-week long trip. "But my darling," I immediately countered, "The company is paying me to not show up at work for four weeks, but they aren't going to pay for airfare, rental cars, restaurant meals, hotels or contributions to your collection of refrigerator magnets commemorating all the places we've been!" It is the nature of our relationship that while I try my best to temper the flow of dollars out of our bank account, Sandra ensures that I don't reach the end of my life having never had the joys and experiences for which life was invented. She usually wins, and I must confess I have benefited as a result. "When will we ever have a chance to travel like this again?" she asked. I had some answers, but all risked the uncertainty of a future we can't predict. In the end, I agreed it was a fine thing to do with 4 weeks away from the office.
The next challenge was deciding where to go. Sandra wanted New England to see the fall colors and do some historical sight-seeing. I wanted to return to Israel, where we had not been since shortly after we were married 29 years before. Mixed in there somewhere was a stop in New Jersey for the marriage of cousin Jessica. The big compromise was struck: the wedding, to be followed by a driving tour of New England for two weeks, then fly to Israel where we would do another two-week driving tour. Natalie and Benjamin would join Sandra, David and myself for the long wedding weekend, then fly back to their respective homes to go back to work. We would all meet again in Boston two weeks later and fly together to Israel - the five of us together for two weeks of touring. For some families, this could be a catastrophe, for others fairly annoying for most parties involved. For us, however, there can be nothing better. We are blessed with a family where the parents know no joy greater than spending time with their kids and where the kids are not annoyed, nagged, harassed or embarrassed by their parents frequently enough to prevent them from going on an all-expenses-paid trip to Israel.
The second-to-last challenge was the planning of the trip. Sandra does great trips and I trust her totally to put together a trip that will be busy, interesting, compelling, comfortable and ultimately pleasurable. It's a huge amount of work to pull this off, but she does it every time, usually the night before we are to leave. On this trip, Sandra decided to try out Airbnb, a website that helps property owners rent out their private property to travelers on vacation. Sort of like Uber, except they don't move. One can find beautiful properties at a fraction of the cost of comparable hotels, and often in locations where hotels are not even available.
The last challenge was being able to catch our plane. The wedding was set for Sunday, October 11, 2015. We would need to arrive in New Jersey before Shabbat (the Jewish sabbath, which begins at sundown on Friday). Monday and Tuesday of that preceding week were Jewish holidays, when work, travel, phone, computer and commerce are all prohibited, just as on Shabbat. And the holiday was Succoth, which entails building a temporary structure in the backyard called a succah. Because of the holiday, my last day at work, and thus the beginning of my sabbatical as far as Intel was concerned, was Friday, October 2, 2015. The schedule for the following week shaped up to look like this:
Monday: Holiday spent in shul (Jewish temple)
Tuesday: Holiday spent in shul
Wednesday: Furiously disassemble and store the succah, prepare the house for our departure and pack
Thursday: Head to the airport for a 1:00 PM flight to New Jersey
When we've taken trips in the past, upon our return, people will ask me, "What did you see?" and "What did you do?" and "Where were you?" I can only stare at them with a dumb look on my face while I ransack my brain for a memory - any memory - of what the heck I had been doing for the previous week or two. I don't have a great memory (obviously) and the longer the trip, the more there is to remember, and the less I remember it all. As I was about to drop a ton of hard-earned savings on the trip of a lifetime, I thought it best to write down what we did each day so that in my old age, when I'm living in a cardboard box under the freeway, I'll have a chance of recalling exactly what led to my being there. (I'm joking - my kids are going to be wildly successful so that they can keep me appropriately sheltered in my twilight years!)
Right from the beginning, our days were packed and there was not much time to capture the memories before they were overwritten by the next day's adventures. That meant not much time for creativity. And as the purpose of keeping a trip journal was just to jog my own memory, my notes tended to be terse and dry at times. Well, like, almost all times. But when we got home from the trip, I thought there might be one or two people who might be momentarily interested in what we did, and at the very least, Sandra and the kids might like to have their memories jogged as well. So I decided to capture my notes in a format that could be easily shared, along with pictures (each of which can spare me the writing of a thousand words). In this age of the Internet, a blog seemed like a perfect platform upon which to plaster these memories. But this isn't a blog, in the sense that it was not produced a post at a time, nor is it something that will get updated after the whole story has been told. And while I will make some effort at keeping it interesting, much of it is nothing more than little bullet points intended to prod sleeping neurons in my brain to help me remember the sights and sounds already recorded therein. For those of you reading this without benefit of those recordings, this journal may be more confusing and frustrating than illuminating and edifying, and most certainly at many times, excruciatingly boring. You have been warned...
In 2011, five and half years into my tenure at Fulcrum, the company was in serious danger of going down in flames. Smelling a bargain, we were acquired by Intel before it was too late. It didn't make us all rich, but we still had jobs, for which we were thankful. And wouldn't you know, Intel had a sabbatical program too - an even better one: eight weeks off after 7 years of service. The only problem was that they would not count the years worked at Fulcrum, so I was back to zero and wouldn't be taking mine until 2018 at the earliest.
A bit more than 3 years after the acquisition, Intel announced a new sabbatical program. They would continue to offer 8 weeks off after 7 years of service, but now were also offering 4 weeks off after 4 years of service. I was just a few months away from marking my 4th anniversary with Intel and having been deprived of my Fulcrum sabbatical at nearly the last minute, I was taking no chances on this one; it took me all of four nanoseconds (a nanosecond is one billionth of a second) to decide I would invoke the 4 weeks off just as soon as I was eligible.
The next step was to decide what to do with four whole weeks of rest and relaxation. I began to fantasize about long days playing guitar, riding my bike, going to the beach, flying radio controlled airplanes, and dabbling in hobbies long dormant and household projects long awaiting my attention. I was suddenly awakened from my reverie by Sandra's suggestion. Well, not really a suggestion, more like a statement of fact: we would take a 4-week long trip. "But my darling," I immediately countered, "The company is paying me to not show up at work for four weeks, but they aren't going to pay for airfare, rental cars, restaurant meals, hotels or contributions to your collection of refrigerator magnets commemorating all the places we've been!" It is the nature of our relationship that while I try my best to temper the flow of dollars out of our bank account, Sandra ensures that I don't reach the end of my life having never had the joys and experiences for which life was invented. She usually wins, and I must confess I have benefited as a result. "When will we ever have a chance to travel like this again?" she asked. I had some answers, but all risked the uncertainty of a future we can't predict. In the end, I agreed it was a fine thing to do with 4 weeks away from the office.
The next challenge was deciding where to go. Sandra wanted New England to see the fall colors and do some historical sight-seeing. I wanted to return to Israel, where we had not been since shortly after we were married 29 years before. Mixed in there somewhere was a stop in New Jersey for the marriage of cousin Jessica. The big compromise was struck: the wedding, to be followed by a driving tour of New England for two weeks, then fly to Israel where we would do another two-week driving tour. Natalie and Benjamin would join Sandra, David and myself for the long wedding weekend, then fly back to their respective homes to go back to work. We would all meet again in Boston two weeks later and fly together to Israel - the five of us together for two weeks of touring. For some families, this could be a catastrophe, for others fairly annoying for most parties involved. For us, however, there can be nothing better. We are blessed with a family where the parents know no joy greater than spending time with their kids and where the kids are not annoyed, nagged, harassed or embarrassed by their parents frequently enough to prevent them from going on an all-expenses-paid trip to Israel.
The second-to-last challenge was the planning of the trip. Sandra does great trips and I trust her totally to put together a trip that will be busy, interesting, compelling, comfortable and ultimately pleasurable. It's a huge amount of work to pull this off, but she does it every time, usually the night before we are to leave. On this trip, Sandra decided to try out Airbnb, a website that helps property owners rent out their private property to travelers on vacation. Sort of like Uber, except they don't move. One can find beautiful properties at a fraction of the cost of comparable hotels, and often in locations where hotels are not even available.
The last challenge was being able to catch our plane. The wedding was set for Sunday, October 11, 2015. We would need to arrive in New Jersey before Shabbat (the Jewish sabbath, which begins at sundown on Friday). Monday and Tuesday of that preceding week were Jewish holidays, when work, travel, phone, computer and commerce are all prohibited, just as on Shabbat. And the holiday was Succoth, which entails building a temporary structure in the backyard called a succah. Because of the holiday, my last day at work, and thus the beginning of my sabbatical as far as Intel was concerned, was Friday, October 2, 2015. The schedule for the following week shaped up to look like this:
Monday: Holiday spent in shul (Jewish temple)
Tuesday: Holiday spent in shul
Wednesday: Furiously disassemble and store the succah, prepare the house for our departure and pack
Thursday: Head to the airport for a 1:00 PM flight to New Jersey
When we've taken trips in the past, upon our return, people will ask me, "What did you see?" and "What did you do?" and "Where were you?" I can only stare at them with a dumb look on my face while I ransack my brain for a memory - any memory - of what the heck I had been doing for the previous week or two. I don't have a great memory (obviously) and the longer the trip, the more there is to remember, and the less I remember it all. As I was about to drop a ton of hard-earned savings on the trip of a lifetime, I thought it best to write down what we did each day so that in my old age, when I'm living in a cardboard box under the freeway, I'll have a chance of recalling exactly what led to my being there. (I'm joking - my kids are going to be wildly successful so that they can keep me appropriately sheltered in my twilight years!)
Right from the beginning, our days were packed and there was not much time to capture the memories before they were overwritten by the next day's adventures. That meant not much time for creativity. And as the purpose of keeping a trip journal was just to jog my own memory, my notes tended to be terse and dry at times. Well, like, almost all times. But when we got home from the trip, I thought there might be one or two people who might be momentarily interested in what we did, and at the very least, Sandra and the kids might like to have their memories jogged as well. So I decided to capture my notes in a format that could be easily shared, along with pictures (each of which can spare me the writing of a thousand words). In this age of the Internet, a blog seemed like a perfect platform upon which to plaster these memories. But this isn't a blog, in the sense that it was not produced a post at a time, nor is it something that will get updated after the whole story has been told. And while I will make some effort at keeping it interesting, much of it is nothing more than little bullet points intended to prod sleeping neurons in my brain to help me remember the sights and sounds already recorded therein. For those of you reading this without benefit of those recordings, this journal may be more confusing and frustrating than illuminating and edifying, and most certainly at many times, excruciatingly boring. You have been warned...
Days 1 Through 3: Goodbye Office!
Monday, October 5 - Tuesday, October 6 (Week 1)
I began to count the days of my sabbatical starting with the first work day that I didn't go into the office. This happened to be the Jewish holiday of Shemini Atzeret, the last day of the week-long festival of Succoth. This was an appropriate day on which to begin a sabbatical, as it is a day similar in many ways to the weekly Jewish Shabbat, or in English, Sabbath, origin of the word sabbatical (noun). Shemini Atzeret is followed by another equally sabbatical (adjective) holiday, Simchat Torah. These days are spent in communal celebration, involving lots of food, dancing, drinking (which is needed to get the dancing going, since instrumental music is prohibited on the holiday and we must rely on our own voices to get a groove going), and of course there's worship in there somewhere too. The party actually started Sunday night (Jewish holidays are sundown to sundown), so by the end of the day Tuesday, we are all pretty much partied out. But there's no rest for the weary...Wednesday, October 7
To do list for the day:- Take down the succah and store the pieces in the garage
- Pack for the trip
- Write up instructions for Ori
- Try to get to bed at a reasonable hour
We eat in the succah for the week of the festival of Succoth. Taking it down and storing the pieces is a bit of a chore, and not without some degree of sadness, as Succoth is my family's favorite holiday and it always seems to pass too quickly. But this year, no time for tears. We've got a plane to catch!
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| The succah (without decorations or furniture) |
Then there's packing. I'm a very slow packer. It takes me hours and hours to decide how to pack for every contingency and somehow make it all fit in the smallest suitcase possible so that I can feel like I'm traveling light. It can take me 3 hours to pack for an overnight. Now I have to figure out how to fit 4 weeks worth of clothing for two continents with wildly disparate weather forecasts into any size suitcase at all. The problem is compounded by the fact that we're going to a wedding at the beginning of the trip, so David and I need to pack our suits, and do so in a way that will minimize wrinkles. We'll be doing laundry periodically, so I figure a week's worth of clothes should be about right. We buy and borrow some big sized suitcases, one for me, one for Sandra. We always try to fit into a carry-on, but if we are ever to carry a large suitcase, this seems like the time. Little did we know this decision would be the first domino in a cascading sequence of hassles.
Our close friend and honorary son Ori was to house sit for the month we would be gone. The primary purpose was to have someone sleeping in the house so that our two pathologically deranged cats wouldn't become completely unhinged and bring about the total destruction of all our worldly possessions for lack of human contact.
When we got to thinking of all the things Ori would need to know, the list grew quite long, from how to deal with the litter box, to providing access to the cleaning lady, gardener and gas meter reader, to where all the emergency supplies are stored in case of earthquake, WWIII or zombie apocalypse during our absence. It was a few hours of work to get it all written up and printed out. He smiled at us kindly as we explained it all to him in a frantic fit of anal-retentive, control-freakish neurosis.
Somehow, it all got done. We were ready to go.
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| Chai |
Our close friend and honorary son Ori was to house sit for the month we would be gone. The primary purpose was to have someone sleeping in the house so that our two pathologically deranged cats wouldn't become completely unhinged and bring about the total destruction of all our worldly possessions for lack of human contact.
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| Mocha |
Somehow, it all got done. We were ready to go.
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| Ori prepares to spend a month with our cats |
Day 4: LAX to EWR
Thursday, October 8
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| David's traditional flying shirt on the airport parking shuttle to the terminal |
On the flight out, there were great views of the Utah Canyon Lands, Goose Necks of the San Juan, Moab, Monument Valley (we think - it was a bit far away) and the rim of the Grand Canyon. We had taken a memorable driving trip to these places in 1999, and it was fun to get this little flash back as we were beginning another big journey. Just as we crossed the Colorado border, we hit major turbulence. Flight-attendant-sitting-down-in aisle type turbulence. I personally find that sort of turbulence amusing. Airplane wings only work because they ride on the air, and turbulence is a friendly reminder that there's plenty of air out there. Flight attendants are always so blasé about turbulence, so when they actually take notice and sit down, I feel like it is an exciting and unusual event. Eventually it smoothed out and the remainder of the flight was uneventful.
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| Rendezvous on the Newark Airport Airtrain |
With Natalie's suitcase at Sandra's feet and a duffle bag laying across the laps of all three kids in the back seat, we set out towards Princeton Junction. While driving, Jessica's parents, Marlene and Gary, called us, as they were on their way at that late hour to pick up their other daughter Becky and her husband Philip from the Philly airport. They recommended the Omega Diner just at the moment that we were driving up to it, so we stopped there to eat.
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| Tired, but happy at the Omega |
Day 5: Phiadelphia Freedom
Friday, October 9
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| Let the adventure begin! |
At this juncture, I feel compelled to explain our dietary habits, as they are no-doubt confusing to those readers who don't quite understand kosher and wonder what we are up to, and those who completely understand kosher and wonder what we are up to. It is also important to explain this as it is an important theme for the Israel leg of the trip. In short, we make it our practice to not eat foods forbidden to Jews, such as pork and shellfish. We also do not eat meat and milk together, which is another important port of the kosher dietary laws. Someone adhering strictly to the laws of keeping kosher would therefore never eat at Jammin' Crepes or any restaurant that wasn't certified kosher by a rabbinic authority as not serving milk and meat in the same establishment and if meat is served, that it be only kosher-slaughtered animals permitted by the Torah. As such restaurants are relatively rare, and as we have a life-long habit of eating out at non-kosher restaurants and are reluctant to give it up, we compromise by eating only vegetarian and fish dishes (not considered meat) when dining at non-kosher restaurants. This is in fact cheating, as no Orthodox rabbinic authority would accept such a practice as acceptable observance of the laws of kosher, but it is what we do. That said, we do take particular pleasure when we have the opportunity to choose a certified kosher restaurant over one that is not, but more on that when we get to Israel.
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| A lovely day in Princeton |
The Liberty Bell museum gave lots of history about the bell, culminating with the bell itself at the far end of the hall. However it was not at all clear from the exhibit why the Liberty Bell is the icon that it is. From the exhibit, it would seem that it was nothing more than one bell among many, and that it was poorly made, having cracked when first put to use.
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| Financial analyst contemplating the price of liberty |
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| That thing's cracked! |
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| Happy historically-minded homeschoolers with Independence Hall in the background |
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| A close up of the Independence Hall tower |
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| Inside Independence Hall, where it all happened |
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The Pennsylvania State Court House, home of the U.S. House & Senate for 10 years
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The Representative from Westlake Village, California
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Day 6: The Aufruf
Saturday, October 10
In the morning, we dressed in our Saturday finest (one step down from the Sunday finest we would be wearing to the wedding the next day), had some breakfast and headed out on a walk to Gary and Marlene's shul (rhymes with "cool" - a shul is an orthodox Jewish synagogue), the Chabad of the Windsors. It was a beautiful and cool morning, which made for a pleasant walk. Unfortunately, Sandra was not feeling well in the morning and decided to stay at the Loren's to try to sleep it off. The shul is new, large and beautiful. There was a crowd of about 120 people, which pretty much filled the place. The highlight for many in the congregation was Matt's aufruf. An aufruf is a tradition where the groom is given the honor of an aliyah - being called to the Torah - at Shabbat morning services, following which, he gets pelted with candy thrown by the congregation. Besides keeping all the little kids amused and busy collecting the shrapnel, it's a symbolic way of wishing the groom a sweet life with his new wife.Following services, there was a big kiddush with lots of food. We visited with the shul regulars, the Rabbi, as well as friends of Matt's and the Lorens's who had come for the aufruf. David in particular got friendly with a bunch of kids. I spent an enjoyable time visiting with Matt's dad, Peter Montel. He had been a K-12 science teacher and had retired 5 years before due to declining health. Though he had had a new heart valve, a pace maker, a defibrillator and kidney cancer, he seemed to me to be a happy and high-spirited man and I found him to be inspiring.
We had a nice walk back to the house and found Sandra feeling somewhat better. Matt and his family came over and we all spent the afternoon talking and eventually napping. When Shabbat ended, we were hosted by the Loren's at an Italian restaurant for dinner, where we were joined by Gary's brother Steven, Loraine (Gary's brother Bruce's widow), Loraine and Bruce's daughters Jamie and Allie, as well as Gary and Marlene's friends from Las Vegas, Lou and Carrey Tarter and their kids, Stacey and Dave. After dinner, we returned to the Comfort Suites hotel in order to leave Gary, Marlene and Jessica some time and space to get ready for the wedding.
Day 7: Post Nuptial Drip
Sunday, October 11
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| The tisch |
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| Ok, Benjamin, what did you say to her? (Photo by Natalie) |
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| You go, cuz! (Photo by Sandra) |
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| We are so ready for this! |
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| Mugging while waiting for the ceremony to start (selfie by Natalie) |
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| It was at this point that I lost it (photo by Natalie) |
It doesn't take much to move me to tears - I've been known to cry for laundry detergent television commercials. Fortunately I was prepared for this eventuality and had a supply of tissues in my pocket, which were now coming to good use. When the family was finally all gathered under the chuppah, I wiped my face and tried to get my act together. However, to my horror, almost immediately I was called up to bestow the priestly blessing! [WARNING: what follows is a graphic and juvenile narrative that should not be read by young children or dignified adults, or anyone who thinks I have any dignity.] My eyes were dry at this point, but my nose was still running. My voice was steady but high pitched and as I began the blessing I could feel snot begin to run down the inside of my right nostril. Naturally, we were surrounded by nearly a half dozen photographers and videographers and I didn't want to wipe my nose and have it captured on their wedding video forevermore. At last, I could bear it no longer. I was sure that a large glob of phlegm was hanging off the end of my nose and there was a very real danger that it would blow off in the draft of my breath and land who knows where! I could no longer risk it and had to raise a tissue to my face and wipe my nose. I did a quick wipe and continued on. I was nearly to the end when another glob began to drip down the inside of my nose. I decided to hold off another wipe until I had completed the blessing, praying that the glob would not do a double flip with a half gainer onto the front of my suit, or worse, the bride's dress. I could feel the wetness on the end of my nose and wondered if it was obvious to the bride and groom, whom I was standing before, or to the video camera, or to the multitude of still cameras or to all those gathered. In the end there were no acrobatics by the proto-booger, and I have yet to hear from the Lorens, or the newly minted Mr. and Mrs. Montel, that anything untoward was captured in pixels. [Children may continue reading from this point.]
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| Sandra with Cousin Steven |
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| David, Natalie, Steven, Benjamin & Jamie |
Day 8: Piermont NY
Monday, October 12 (Week 2)
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| Cousins |
In the morning, my sore throat felt no worse, but it was not the same for Sandra. She was feeling quite bad and decided to stay in the hotel and sleep some more while the kids and I went to meet the Lorens for breakfast at the Town Diner in East Windsor. Present were (left to right in photo) Marlene, Paul, David, Natalie, Becky, Benjamin, Allie, Philip, Loraine, Gary and Jamie. After a big breakfast and lively conversation, we said our goodbyes and went back to the hotel to get Sandra, who was still feeling poorly. Since we had no more formal events planned for the rest of the trip, we wanted to send David's and my suits back home with Natalie. I had been so disgusted by our over-sized luggage situation, that I decided to send my large suitcase back with her with the suits and a few other things inside. That left only Sandra's large suitcase, but at least there was only one large one to deal with. We had time before we needed to be at the airport to drop Natalie and Benjamin, so we decided to head to Paterson, NJ, where Sandra's grandma Frieda was born and her father had run a textile mill. Traffic was bad and by the time we got there, we didn't have enough time to sightsee. The area was economically depressed, we were the only white-skinned people in sight, and we were not sure if it would be a good idea to walk around anyway. We didn't know it at the time, but we hadn't seen anything yet!
We headed back to Newark to drop Natalie and Benjamin at the airport. Somehow we ended up on the surface streets of Newark. That was an educational experience, particularly for David. Lots of people (mostly men) hanging out on the street. No one working, no one with any place to go or anything to do on a Monday afternoon. We were the only white-skinned people we saw, even in cars. It made us nervous, but no one paid us any mind and my interactions with other drivers were all cordial. We finally made it to the airport and said our goodbyes. We needed to talk to the Enterprise Rental Car people because our electronic toll pass did not seem to be working. I was worried about pulling into the car rental return, because I did not think we would be able to get the car out again, so we decided to find an off-airport Enterprise office. Sandra dialed a location into the GPS and we headed out. Within a short time, we were on the streets of some very bad looking Newark neighborhoods. We decided to bail out and find a freeway so we could jump to light speed and get out of Newark. I figured I'd find another Enterprise office in some safer looking town and hoped that we wouldn't have to take many toll roads en route, or if we did, that there would be some way to resolve the fact that we seemed to be breaking the law at every toll booth.
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| View from the West side of the Hudson River |
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| The living room in Piermont Airbnb |
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| Famous drummer at Thunderdome Studio |
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| Sleeping Beauty |
Day 9: West Point
Tuesday, October 13
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| The West Point Academy is heavily guarded! |
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| A modest chapel on campus |
The point is a land mass that sticks out into the Hudson river. It was a strategic location during the revolutionary war. They hung a 1700 foot long, 65 ton chain across the river. Any British vessel attempting to get past the point would have to stop to deal with the chain and then would be fired upon with canons from the shore. The British never made it past the point.
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| A beautiful view...and the river is pretty from here too! |
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| A Jewish young man ponders a trophy captured from a vanquished enemy |
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| One view from Perkins's hilltop |
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| The 5-story Perkins Tower in the hands of a 25-story tall David |
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| Thank you for the view, Mr. Perkins! |
Day 10: Bridges
Wednesday, October 14
In the morning, I was feeling really sick, and though I had slept reasonably well, I was exhausted, my body ached and I could hardly move. It made me think about my friend Dan. A few weeks before the start of the trip, Dan informed me that he had cancer. By the time it was discovered, tumors had already spread to multiple organs. When he started telling me this, I figured the next words out of his mouth were that he only had so-and-so long to live. But instead, what I heard him say was that he was going to fight this thing. In the days and weeks that followed, I marveled at his attitude. He's a smart guy - he knows what the odds are. Nevertheless, he has remained steadfast in his determination, positive in his outlook and though I could tell that the disease or the procedures had weakened him some, he remained up-beat with the same laugh in his voice that I had known for almost 18 years. If Dan could keep his head up and keep moving through the hell he was no doubt enduring, then surely I could muscle through some little temporary virus. |
| The Tappan Zee bridge growing some extra limbs |
We passed through White Plains, NY and then got on the Merritt Parkway through Connecticut, which is a scenic drive featuring elaborate over crossings and beautiful color-changing trees. We would have taken Highway 7 North to Danbury, but it was showing up as congested on the GPS, so we decided to go farther East and take Highway 58, which was billed as a scenic route. By the time we got to the 58, David was hungry and Sandra and I thought we might also be able to eat something. We pulled into Fairfield about noon and had something to eat, then headed back north on 58, past the beautiful Hemlock Reservoir. The leaves were stunning. More on that in a moment.
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| One root in summer, one in fall, along Highway 58 in Connecticut (Photo by Sandra) |
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| Could that be Mike Mulligan's Mary Anne? |
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| Lots of cool stuff outside... (Photo: Sandra) |
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| ...and inside (Photo by Sandra) |
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| Stationary steam engines used to power factories during the industrial revolution (Photo by Sandra) |
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| Kent Falls State Park (this is why you go to New England to see the leaves change!) |
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| The source of yellow snow |
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| At the bottom of the falls |
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| More extreme beauty at Kent Falls (Photo by Sandra) |
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| Approaching the Cornwall covered bridge |
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| And if someone comes in from the other end? |
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| Kickin' back at the Locust Tree B&B |
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