Upstate New York and Vermont

Upstate New York along the Canadian border is something between the beauty of Minnesota and the subculture of Deliverance.  I'm sure you wonder where we get our impressions of places when we travel so quickly through some of these areas.  So let me introduce you to some of the characters we met in upstate New York.  First, there's Marge, a cross between Flo saying "kiss my grits" on Mel/s Diner and Edith, Archie Bunker's wife.  Marge is a waitress at a coffee shop where we sought desert and coffee.  She'd been dealing with all the tourists of the season, has opinions about everything, but has never heard of bread pudding.  Most of her opinions align with 20th century thinking, or earlier.

Next there's Buddy.  He's a hard working American beer drinker who lost his good paying job to foreigners and now tries to make a little extra down at the casinos.  I met him after we visited the Eisenhower Lock to watch sailboats go through.

We stopped at International RV park.  Kathy filled water while I visited with the locals about a bridge that had been built in 1899 and used until 1970.

Finally, there's the RV park manager who brags about his comprehensive maps of the area and gun collection.  We were in Adirondack park trying to find BLM camping. He talked us out of dry camping in the area after sightings of the escaped convict in the area. One escaped prisoner had been shot two miles away from where we planned to camp and the locals were gun toting rednecks.

Back north to the Walmart in Malone, we ended up parking out front near the Tractor Supply and the noisy highway.  We were getting a good night's sleep except for frogs then we were awoken by a vomiting dog.

The next day, we happily crossed Lake Champlain into Vermont.  Vermont, home of the earth-loving green people and many famous lesbians, should welcome the two of us and our rig.  Beth Robinson served as co-counsel in the case of Baker v. State, the landmark 1999 decision that led to Vermont becoming the first state to enact civil unions. We hoped that the home of gay marriage, Vermont, would offer a diverse cultural experience. We found little beyond hunting and fishing.  That being said, our first campground was lakeside and would have been perfect if it weren't next to a large fifth wheel with two tents and fifteen kids outside.

Our next stop was Brighton State Park.  $30.00 with no services was shocking but even more shocking was their idea of a level site for a 35' rig.  The angle of the driveway and the ditch caused by rain runoff was terrible.  We got stuck while turning into the spot. Without freaking out, I created a ramp with our levelers in order to get in/ We got it in and we stayed in! After a quick swim in the cool pond and a campfire, we chatted with our neighbor, Denise.  She is a youth minister who camps at Brighton nearly every summer.

This next morning, we decided to visit the only national wildlife refuge in Vermont.  We drove 7.5 mile toward Missisquoi NWR. After briefly getting lost, we finally found it and got our stamp/

Back at camp, we asked for fill to fill the ditch.  The camp host brought two five gallon buckets and was not too enthused about it. Kathy moved the rig back and forth about 8 times as I moved out leveling blocks to build mini-bridges over the ditch and watched tree limbs. We finally got the hell out without a scratch. While saying goodbye to Denise, she told us dogs were not allowed in NH state parks.  The northeast was continuing to show its unfriendliness toward RV'ers.  Luckily, Denise was wrong.

Education Day

Both of us are proud not only of our own education but of some of the valuable educational institutions that influenced our desire to obtain our advanced degrees.  

Kathy had wanted to visit Notre Dame University.  She had been influenced by the movie Rudy.  It was one of her dad's favorite movies that they watched together each holiday season.  It is the real life story of a janitor who not only got to attend Notre Dame University but also got to play on the legendary football team, The Fighting Irish.  This heartfelt story, plus the fact that her Dad was fond of the school, motivated her to want to see the Notre Dame football field and campus so  Southbend, Indiana became a destination. 

We found a Walmart parking lot, disconnected the jeep and drove to campus.  It was summer so we were able to drive around the campus,  including the football field.  Each entrance gate is named for famous Notre Dame coaches.  We parked at the campus store and information center and rode our bicycles across campus and walked inside the Main Building, one of the most recognized campus buildings.  We gave ourselves a tour to appreciate the architecture and the history.  We saw the beautiful art work and even the Rosary Crown, which was designed to be placed on the golden statue on top of the building. The crown was so beautiful that they decided it needed to stay inside and was never put on the statue.

Another campus with history we wanted to get more in touch with was Kent State. Four hours east of Notre Dame and across the Ohio state line it was our next destination. Growing up during the Vietnam era, Joy had heard about the Kent State Massacre and had always wanted to see the campus which survived such violence as a response to peaceful protest.  

By accident we pulled in and parked the RV and Jeep next to the parking lot where the four students had died during the May 4th, 1970 shooting.  Immediately we were connected to the event. The locations where the students fell were marked by iron posts and their names carved into brick pavers.  This area used by students daily before and since the shootings made us reflect not only on our own mortality but on the lives of those lost and what they could have been had they lived.  

Next we walked up to the student building where the museum is.  The building reminded me of the student union at my own alma mater, Bemidji State University.  The front side of this building faces the knoll where the Victory Bell stands - the same bell that had witnessed the riots the days before the shootings. We learned the protests were not entirely peaceful as some students had looted local business and started fires, which is why the National Guardsmen were called in, eventually coming over the knoll and firing tear gas to disperse the protesters. After retreating back down the hill, they fired their rifles wildly into the air before they fired at students in the parking lot.  

A total of 67 shots were fired in 13 seconds. Four students: Allison Krause, Jeffrey Miller, Sandra Scheuer and William Schroeder, were killed. Sandra and William had not been involved in the riots or protests at all - they were simply on their way to class.  Nine other students were injured, one of whom was permanently paralyzed.  None of the soldiers were ever held responsible for their actions.  

Kathy and I were greatly moved and highly encourage others to visit and learn more about this piece of history.   We'd like to think that a similar incident wouldn't happen today - but we're not that naive. 

Gila Cliff Dwellings

Gila Cliff Dwellings was on my top four tourist destinations for our instate travels while living in New Mexico.  It seemed to get pushed further down the list of travel priorities, as we found so many other interesting things to do, so it was January before we headed there. 

Mapping the route was cumbersome because snow had already hit the mountains and one route had a low bridge we wouldn't fit under. We decided to play it as safe as we could and drove south to Deming and then back north up the winding roads to the Mesa Campground. We decided to stay here because of the steeper road grades closer to the Gila National Park and after driving there in the jeep - it was the right decision. Turns out we timed our trip just right as the snows from the previous day had melted off roadways and remnants lined the shadowed forest.  When we arrived, we disconnected and set up camp.  There were only 3 other campers in the campground, which overlooks a beautiful reservoir. 

Turns out we timed our trip just right as the snows from the previous day had melted off roadways and remnants lined the shadowed forest.  When we arrived at the park, we disconnected and set up camp.  There were only three other campers in the campground which overlooks a beautiful green reservoir.  

Our site had one small issue. When we turned on the water, the knob got stuck on and we could not shut it off.  I hopped into the jeep and drove to the camp host site.  No one was there and hadn't been there for some time.  It spooked me a little.  I drove back to the site, got the tool box out and ended up fixing the spigot ourselves.  The valve ball had become rusty and got stuck.  

That evening we took a family walk around the park, which we had to ourselves.  Keila, our thirteen year old Labrador, was tired and walked slowly while Frances, our four year old toy poodle, wanted to run through every site and sniff everything.  

We had an early campfire and the dogs enjoyed staying outside with us, as the air was cool and crisp.  As we headed in for bed, Frances freaked us both out.  As Kathy was trying to come into the door, Frances saw a raven that she decided was going to kill us all.  She lept out of the RV and started to chase the raven. She ran about a block in the blink of an eye. Kathy went after her, trying not to show any hint of panic, even though she was.  We knew Frances was a runner and that once she locked onto a target her hearing suddenly became disabled.  Luckily, after becoming satisfied that the raven was no longer a deadly threat, she to Kathy's calling voice, quite pleased with herself.  It was the first time since leaving Houston that Frances had sprung herself.  Unfortunately, it would not be the last.  

After a big breakfast, we headed north to the national park in the jeep.  While driving the winding roads, we realized it was good that we didn't try to camp closer.  The roads were magnificent motorcycle roads except for the culverts on the corners but would have been treacherous in a 31-foot motor home. The drive was absolutely beautiful and the photo opportunities numerous.

After passing through the little location of Gila, we finally got to the park headquarters.  We went inside and got Kathy's Passport America stamp and information about the park.  A guided tour of the caves started in an hour or so but we could climb the path on our own and walk through the caves and explore.  We did just that.  

The climb was moderately strenuous and we took several breaks.  We chatted with one of the volunteers as we climbed.  He was an older man who told us he lived in the park's staff and had just completed training.  He would be helping the ranger on the guided tour and invited us to join him as he rushed ahead of us on the steep incline.  

The trail turned across the river and the temperature changed as we moved from the cool snow covered ground to warm, and then hot, barren rock walls.  When we finally saw the man-made pueblo in the natural cave openings it was awe inspiring and I felt I had come home.

I have always had a connection to Native American culture and the dwellings seemed familiar and the comfortable to me.  The southern openings allowed warm winter sunshine to heat the cave where early man had lived.  I looked through stone portholes and imagined life with a hundred or so neighbors.  Soot from long forgotten campfires stained the ceilings and rear wall while handmade bricks walled areas for rituals and privacy.  I really do think I could live in a place just like this but convincing Kathy might be a challenge.   

After our mental time travel, we made our way down and found the warmth had melted more snow and the stream was running fast and cold.  In the little town of Gila, we visited the local store and shopped for local jams and jellies.  Of course we bought green chile jam made by local native americans.  We learned of hot springs in the area and made our plan for the next day.  

Our second night in camp we skipped the fire and played cards.  We'd become avid Spades players thanks to our friends Fay and Mary, fellow volunteers at Bosque del Apache NRW. We needed to practice, though, because they had been winning too many games.  We played a few hands and discussed playing strategies before bed.  

The next morning, we grabbed our swim suits and headed back up to Gila.  This time we turned toward the Gila River.  We knew we found the right place when we happened upon naked man putting on a pair of jeans next to his motorcycle.  Luckily, he and his friends had finished their soaks and were leaving.  

We checked out the self pay box, found the restroom to change, and selected a natural stone-lined hot spring pool to soak.  The temperature was about 105 while the other two pools were a little cooler.  We stayed in the pool closest to the road, where signs asked people to be family friendly, aka WEAR CLOTHES.

It was a wonderful pool except it needed to be cleaned.  The algae on the river rock bottom released with our movement and began floating in the water with us.  After realizing this, we tried to not stir anymore up.  After a long warm soak while watching the Gila River amble by, we were refreshed and ready to head back to camp and then home. 

We saw several javelinas scramble up the rough terrain on one corner of the road and wild turkeys on another as we drove back to the campground.  We decided to stop at a historical marker which boasted of an native american camp in the area.  We actually found many pieces of ancient broken pottery just laying in the grass.  It was nice leaving them for others to come and discover as well.  

The drive down the mountain seemed easier than the one up, but the sky was clouding up and we needed to watch for an incoming winter storm. We decided to stop in Demming for lunch.  It was just a mile or two off our route home and gave us time to check the weather. Kathy found us a little restaurant in a historical old downtown building. In fact, it was a garage in an alley that advertised soul food.  Sure enough, it was real southern cooking with ribs, greens, and pecan pie.  Yummy!

Back on the road, we opted to go back through Hatch, the route we had come.  The storm seemed to go south, but as we got to Hatch it was obvious the snow had come through this area too.  Luckily, the roads were not icy and the snow was light.  We made it back to the refuge to find a wonderful white blanket of snow.