Snowbirding 2019: In Mesa and Gilbert

I take a break from camping and spend some time selling rocks and visiting friends.

Posts in this series:
The Long Drive
At the Backwaters Campsite
In Mesa and Gilbert
A Quick Stop in Wickenburg and Forepaugh
Off Plomosa Road
• Camping at the Big RV Show
• A Trip to Organ Pipe with the WINs
The Tucson Gem & Mineral Shows
Wickenburg Gold Rush Days
• Constellation Park Interlude
• White Tank Mountain Park
Bumming It in Phoenix and Apache Junction
A Dose of Civilization
Return to the Backwaters

With my Colorado River Backwater vacation over, it was time to get back to work. I was scheduled to participate as a vendor in the annual Flagg Gem and Mineral Show in Mesa, AZ from January 4 through 6, so that was my next stop.

Setting Up My Booth

I headed east on I-10, letting Google Maps direct me to the Mesa Community College campus where the event would be held. At about 3:45 PM, I was following a young guy on foot to the space in the covered parking area to where my booth would be.

There was not much I could set up. After all, I’d chosen space under the covered parking area so I wouldn’t have to set up my tent shelter. But although that saved me some work, it also made some extra work for me. Without the tent and its sides, I couldn’t just leave my merchandise out overnight. There was no point in setting up more than just the tables to mark my space. So that’s what I did: I pulled the three folding tables out of my truck’s back seat area and set them up in a row along the outside edge of my booth space.

I should mention here that my booth space was huge: 14 x 28, I think. I didn’t need that much space, but it was the smallest space they offered. This was a big contrast to the 5 x 8 space I’m allowed at Pybus Public Market in Wenatchee where I do most of my selling. Rather than the usual challenge of cramming my wares into a tiny space, I had the unusual challenge of spreading everything out so it looked as if it filled the space.

The “Rough” Cargo Trailer

Meanwhile, I’d been texting back and forth with the owner of a cargo trailer listed on Craig’s List in Chandler. I was pleasantly surprised to learn that he was only 4 miles away from the show. I headed over to see the trailer.

The owner, Dan, lived in a kind of cool neighborhood in Chandler. From the street, it looked like any other subdivision, but each home had a very deep back yard — so big, in fact, that I suspect many of his neighbors had horses. Dan had a goat — the biggest goat I’d ever seen. It was very friendly and kept coming up to us to be petted. He also had a pit bull mix dog who was equally friendly but not quite as annoying about it. And he had a big garage in the back yard (although not as big as mine; as if anyone’s is).

He’d bought the trailer three years ago from someone else on Craig’s List to use as a storage shed for his tools until his garage was finished. Now that his garage was done, he didn’t need it anymore and wanted to sell it.

The trailer was in reasonable condition. Sure, it had some dents — thus his description of it being “rough” — but it was solid. It was outfitted the way I wanted: side door, back barn doors (vs a ramp), and two axles. It even had a screen vent and lighting (which needed some work). I could stand up straight in it. The price was good, but I’ve learned never to offer the listed price for anything on Craig’s List. (Frankly, you’re an idiot if you ask your best price since everyone wants a deal.) I offered him 10% less and he took it. He agreed to hold onto it until I was ready to come get it. I told him that might be Monday and he was okay with that. I also took a close look at the plug for the connection to my truck since it seemed that it might not be long enough to reach the truck with the hitch extension I needed to use with the camper on top. I went back to the camper, raided my mobile bank, and paid him. He gave me the title.

I do admit I had buyer’s remorse several times until I picked it up. What if it was too big? Had I paid too much? Did I really want to tow a trailer for the rest of this trip? Did I really need a trailer? The usual. All that cleared up a few days later when I put it to use.

Friends in Gilbert

From there, I went to Gilbert, where I’d be staying with friends. Tiffani and Jan have a house in a subdivision there with a guest room that’s always available for me and Penny. They’re great people and lots of fun and I know they think I don’t drink enough and go to bed too early. (I’m just not a party animal.)

I backed into their driveway, in front of the door to the extra garage they didn’t use, not sure whether overnight street parking was allowed there. (It was, fortunately.) Then I went inside where I was greeted by Jan. Tiffani came a short while later with a pizza to put in the oven. A while later we were eating pizza and drinking wine and watching something on television with the volume turned way up.

I did my laundry in their enormous washer and dryer. I was wearing my last clean pair of underwear and only had one pair of socks left. My jeans were so dirty I think I could have grown potatoes in them. The washer was so big, I only needed to do two loads, although I suspect that if I didn’t care about whites vs. darks I could have gotten it all — including my camper’s sheets — into one load. When the first load was dry and I had clean clothes to put on, I took a long, hot shower. It wasn’t until then that I felt as if I was done camping for a while.

At the Flagg Gem and Mineral Show

Slabs for Sale
I put out two boxes of rock from a Washington friend to sell. A slab of obsidian was the first thing I sold, but it was also the only slab I sold all weekend. Go figure.

The next day, I was out by 7 AM and on my way to the gem show. The show opened at 9 AM and I had until then to set up. After offloading most of my stuff, I backed the truck and camper into a spot against the fence. Then I went about putting the table cloths on the tables and setting up my easels for pendants and earrings, my display pieces for rings and bracelets, and the display boxes for cabochons. I also put out boxes of petrified wood and obsidian slabs I’d brought from Washington; if there was any place I could sell them, this would be it. Of course, I never took a picture of my booth.

The show was pretty big and well managed — which makes sense considering it’s been an annual event for more than 50 years. Lots of vendors selling everything: rough stone, slabs, cabs, specimens, display pieces, beads, and, of course, jewelry. The organizers of the event required every booth to have at least 75% of its merchandise related to stone or jewelry so there weren’t the usual vendors selling salsa or microfiber cloths or blenders that you see at so many shows these days.

The other vendors were very friendly. The couple behind me, who were from Idaho, sold mostly Asian-made stone items such as bowls and statues and display pieces. The wife was completely entranced with Penny, who I had tied up in my booth for much of the first day. The guy west of me owned a local prospecting shop and was promoting his business, as well as selling metal detectors, books, and all kinds of prospecting equipment. The woman east of me was Native American, selling mostly beaded jewelry. Across from me were some guys who owned a nearby coffee shop that featured jewelry and items from local artists; they were selling mostly turquoise cabochons at prices a bit beyond what I like to spend.

I spent most of the first day cataloging the stones I’d purchased the day before and putting them on display in the appropriate box. I have my cabochon boxes sorted by price: $10 and Under, $15 to $20, and $25 and over. (I wish everyone did this.) Although I originally began displaying my cabochons to give people an opportunity to pick one for a custom pendant, I soon began selling cabochons to people who just wanted the stones. That’s fine with me since I mark up all the stones I sell — and sell ones I’ve polished myself — so I make money on every sale. It’s actually better when I’m really busy, since special orders can get stacked, making them difficult to fill in the two hours I say I can fill them in. At this event I sold about two dozen cabochons and took special orders for three pendants. I also sold some pendants that were already made, along with some earrings, a bracelet, and a ring.

Friday was a bit slow, but things picked up on Saturday, which is when I started selling more jewelry than rocks. A man who had taken a deep interest in my recently completed rosary came back with his wife for a second look. I could tell that they really liked it, but the $140 price tag may have been too high. (It’s a lot lower than the $180 I’d originally wanted to price it at.) I sold out on all my K2 granite stones — I started the day with seven of them — and also sold a bunch of bumble bee jasper. And I sold a handful of cabochons that I’d made from Washington state obsidian and petrified wood, leaving me without samples of finished stones to help sell the slabs.

Tiger Tail Jasper Kingman Turquoise
Here are two of the five pieces I made on Friday and Saturday: Tiger Tail Jasper in sterling silver and Kingman Turquoise in copper and sterling silver. The turquoise piece sold literally two minutes after I put it on the display board — the buyer was standing right there when I hung it — thus reinforcing my belief that I need to buy more turquoise stones.

The Vehicle Shuffle

In the meantime, I’d asked security if I could leave my camper parked overnight in the lot. They said I could, as long as I didn’t sleep in it. No problem. On Friday, I dropped the camper’s legs and moved the truck out, then lowered the camper nearly as low as it would go. I didn’t bother with the sawhorses since I wouldn’t be spending much time in it. So on Friday evening, when I returned to my friend’s place in Gilbert, the truck was camperless.

That made it a lot easier to pick up the trailer, which I did on Saturday after the show. I’d brought along the hitch extender from home — I suspected that I might buy a trailer while I was in Arizona — and put that in place to see how the trailer would tow at the end of it. I was ready to try to back out of the deal if it looked as if the trailer was too heavy for it. Dan was still home — he told me he had plans to go out that evening — and helped me, which made things a lot quicker. Satisfied that the trailer would be okay at the end of the hitch extender and that the wire might even reach, we disconnected it and reconnected without the hitch extender.

The trailer did have two immediate problems:

  • The trailer had no license plate, making it a perfect target for any cop who wanted an easy ticket to write.
  • My truck was so tall that the trailer’s front wheels were off the ground. I assumed that once the camper was back on the truck the rear end of the truck would come down enough to make that problem go away.

I didn’t consider either problem too serious to drive away, so I did, already feeling a little better about my purchase. I parked in the road in front of my friend’s house that evening. It looked pretty funny with those wheels off the ground.

Overnight, it rained hard. I’d wondered a bit whether the trailer leaked — there was a dent in the front driver’s side near the top — but it was bone dry inside in the morning. I took it with me to the gem show, where I arrived after 9 AM, and parked near where I’d left the camper.

Sunday at the Show

The show was off to a slow start that morning, with a lot of very wet booths and no shoppers. I was glad I’d packed up everything except my tables before leaving the night before. I debated whether I’d bother setting up for the last day. I told myself that if I saw blue sky to the west when I arrived, I would. I didn’t see any blue sky at all.

Rainbox Jasper Slabs
Slabs are usually on display in water because when they’re wet they give you a good indication of what they might look like when polished. This vendor’s display clearly identified the rocks and where they were from. I took photos of the displays so I could document the stones later on.

I decided to do a little shopping. I walked up and down the rows of the rock seller booths, looking for inexpensive cabochons and slabs. I found plenty and spent much of the $120 I’d brought with me that morning. (I’d somewhat wisely left much of what I’d taken in the day before back at the house.) I wound up buying two nice turquoise stones from a mine in New Mexico — that stood me back $43. (Ouch!) I also bought some very inexpensive slabs. And a nice pair of perfectly matched mookiate jasper cabochons for earrings.

Along the way, I stopped at a rock club booth where a bunch of older guys were chatting together. I asked if anyone could help me identify some slabs I had. They said to bring them over. So when I was done shopping and had dropped off my purchases in the truck, I returned with a box full of slabs. By that time, most of the guys were gone, but one person suggested I talk to “Richard” and another brought me to Richard’s booth and introduced me.

What followed was about 45 minutes of me pulling out slabs and Richard telling me all about them, including how they were formed and where they were most likely from. I pulled off pieces of masking tape, wrote the info he provided on them, and stuck them on the rocks. I stumped him once or twice and to make up for it, he’d reach into one of his boxes of slabs on display for sale and hand me another slab, telling me that it was like another one I had. It took me a moment to realize that he wanted me to keep these rocks, too. Soon he was giving me more rocks than he was identifying. It took a little effort to keep him focused, but we finally got through them all.

I told him I wanted to buy him lunch and he said no. So I asked what I could do for him.

“Buy some rocks,” he said.

“But you already gave me a dozen of them,” I replied. “My box is full.” I handed him a $20 bill, which was all I had left.

“Do you want change?” He asked.

“No, I’m good,” I told him.

He gave me another six or so slabs, telling me what each one was. Then he pulled out a gorgeous piece of imperial jasper marked $10. “Do you like this one?” He asked.

“Yes,” I told him. “It’s gorgeous. But I don’t have any money left.”

“Just take it.”

He handed it to me and I put it in my box with the others. Then I thanked him and made a quick departure before he could give me any more.

Leaving the Show

I dropped off my rocks in the truck. By this time, it was after 1 PM. The sun was breaking through the clouds and there were shoppers around. About a quarter of the vendors hadn’t set up that morning. I debated only briefly about setting up. It would take at least 30 minutes to dry off the tables and get them set up again and the event ended at 4 PM. It wasn’t worth it.

So I packed up the tables and stuck them into the trailer with anything else that was large. I had no way to tie anything down, so I left my jewelry and cabochon cases in the truck, not wanting the cases to get damaged if they shifted around.

I disconnected the trailer and put the hitch extension back on with the hitch on the end. I raised the camper, backed under it, and lowered it onto the truck. I fastened the tie-down straps. Then I backed up to the trailer with the assistance of a man who saw me backing up and came over to help. I hooked up the trailer and plugged it in. The cord just reached. Success!

My Rig
Here’s my truck, camper, and new old trailer in the parking lot right after hooking them up. It would be a few days before I got the kayak and tent frame off the camper roof.

Well, partial success. The front wheels of the trailer didn’t make firm contact with the ground, so I’d need to get a drop hitch. And since my truck knows when there’s a trailer plugged in, I learned quickly that every time I made a right turn, the plug would come undone. That means I needed a longer cable or extension.

I stopped at Walmart and Napa and picked up various supplies to drop the hitch and rewire the plug to the trailer. I’d do it all in the morning, I figured. I was in no really hurry to leave.

Purple Nail Polish, MVD, and Visiting another Friend

Purple Toenails?
I always choose boring colors for my nails. This time, I picked something crazy. Lavendar?

On Monday, which was Tiffani’s extra day off from work — she’s off Sunday, too — she scheduled pedicures for herself, Jan, and me. So after I treated her for breakfast, we met Jan at her regular nail place and settled in for a good foot pampering.

Then it was errands. She needed to run up to Scottsdale to pick up medicine for one of her cats. I needed to go to motor vehicle to get a temporary permit to legally tow the trailer up to Washington. She very graciously volunteered to drive me there so I wouldn’t have to take my truck with camper and trailer attached to motor vehicle where parking might be scarce.

By then, I was on hold with USPS. A package I was expecting from India had been recorded as arrived in Phoenix but not scanned in. It had been in limbo for about two weeks and I needed to follow up. We were near the head of the line at MVD over an hour after starting the call when someone finally answered. He was unable to provide any additional information and told me to call DHL, which is the company that supposedly handed off the missing package. Good thing I hadn’t sat around waiting for them to answer. Instead, I managed to wait on hold for one bureaucracy while waiting on line for another, thus wasting time while wasting time. (Oddly enough, ten minutes after he told me he couldn’t help me, my phone pinged with a notification that the package had been scanned in and would be delivered by the end of the week. Coincidence? You tell me.)

When we were done with motor vehicle, we headed north. Tiffani had to pick up Jan at Falcon Field Airport, where their company is based. She knew I had another friend I planned to meet up with who lived up there and suggested I visit him instead of going all the way up to Scottsdale with her. So I worked my phone and arranged to meet him for lunch. Tiffany and Jan dropped me off.

My friend, Mike, is a retired FAA guy. He owned a piece of property across the street from one of the orchards I fly at every summer. In 2010, when he was just starting to build a house there, I rented space on his lot to park my big fifth wheel while I was on contract with the orchard. I would up spending the next three summers there — every summer until I bought my own land in the area.

He’d built the home as a place for he and his wife to retire to. But when he was done, she told him she didn’t want to move there. I really felt awful for him; I’d gone through a similar situation with my wasband when he broke similar promises he’d made to me. He wound up selling the home and if I hadn’t been financing a helicopter overhaul at the time, I probably would have bought it. It would have been an excellent AirBnB property and I already manage the house next door.

Mike was now in the process of getting divorced and had bought a home in Mesa. It was a nice place on a corner lot in a subdivision. He looked great when I saw him — healthier and happier than I think I’ve ever seen him. It’s funny how beneficial a major life change can be.

He showed me around his place, which still needed a lot of furniture. Then we left Penny behind and took his car out to lunch. We wound up at a place Tiffani had suggested that he knew well. I had an excellent eggplant parmesan sandwich, which is something I haven’t had since my New York days. We talked about what he was doing to keep busy and what he’d learned about dating. He pretty much confirmed what I already suspected; too many needy women wanted full-time relationships but the ones that most interested him were the ones who wanted to maintain their own separate home and space. I think the smart folks have it figured out — at our age, we just don’t want the changes and compromises that come with a live-in partner.

Afterwards, we fetched Penny and headed back to the airport where I was going to meet up with Jan and Tiffani. Mike dropped me off and I promised I’d come again, perhaps before the end of this trip.

Woody was at the airport when I got there. He’s the other partner in Jan and Tiffani’s helicopter flight school business. Like Jan, he’s a recently retired airline pilot. But he also flies helicopters. He was one of the cherry drying pilots I worked with last summer. It was good to see him and to finally meet his new dog.

When Jan and Tiffani showed up, we didn’t hang around long. Jan had to go down to the San Tan Valley to see a telescope he was interested in buying. He has a 12-inch telescope in a backyard observatory and was interested in upgrading to a 16-inch. So he, Tiffani, Penny, and I headed down to see it.

16 Inch Telescope
Here’s the telescope Jan is considering. It needs to be mounted on this angle (33°) so it can properly track objects in the night sky. Jan is concerned that it might not fit in his observatory.

The guy who greeted us was a spry older man — 85, we later found out — who had not one but six telescopes. Four field telescopes were in his garage and the other two larger ones were mounted in a shack in his backyard. The shack didn’t look like much and, for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out how he opened the flat roof to look out. But then when Jan asked him to open up to get more light in, he unfastened a few latches and then slid the entire roof back onto a frame just outside the building. It was a neat setup. Chatting with him, we learned that he was a helicopter pilot, had gone flying with a friend in one of Jan and Tiffani’s helicopters years ago, and used to live in Wenatchee! Small world.

Cocktail with Bacon
I sure wish I could remember what this cocktail was. It was extremely tasty, even with the bacon.

Afterwards, we went back to Jan and Tiffani’s house to drop off Penny. Woody showed up with his two dogs. We climbed back into two cars and headed out to dinner. It was early, so dinner consisted of happy hour drinks and bar munchies. It was my last night in Gilbert and I enjoyed spending it out with friends.

Heading Out

I woke up early this morning, stripped the guest bed, and threw the linens in the washer with all my dirty clothes. Then I took my last luxury shower until the next time I was someone’s guest, making sure to wash my hair thoroughly. When the linens and my clothes had gone through the dryer, I remade the bed, arranged the nine (!) pillows on it, and started bringing things out to the camper. The inside of the camper was a complete mess that I’d deal with when I stopped for the night.

It was nearly 10 AM when I said goodbye to Jan and Tiffani. Realizing that a professional could do a better job at rewiring the trailer than I could, I’d made a 10:30 appointment at a local U-Haul dealer so their “hitch pro” could do it. With the clock ticking, I pulled away from their house while they prepared to go to work.

Appointment Stacking

If there’s one thing I’ve learned living 10 miles from the closest supermarket and other in-town conveniences, it’s what I call “appointment stacking.” That when you schedule all the things you need to do within a certain window on a certain day. If done just right, you can get appointments and errands crammed into the minimal amount of time, thus making the absolute best use of your time without a lot of additional trips.

That’s what I did on Tuesday. I stacked the U-Haul appointment, DOR errand, Napa and Walmart return errands, lunch, eye appointment, grocery shopping, and long drive from Gilbert to Peoria into one 8-hour period.

At the U-Haul place, the pro did what I asked: he cut the existing hitch wire extension and replaced it with the longer wire I provided. He was able to reuse the plug. While he worked, I fiddled around with the hitch. I realized that the adjustable drop hitch I’d bought at Walmart dropped the hitch too much. Fortunately, U-Haul had other options. I chose one and asked them to put the 2-5/8 inch ball I’d bought on it. When they were all done, the trailer sat pretty level with all four wheels on the ground and the wiring cable was plenty long. Total cost: $65. So worth it. Later, I’d return the extra parts I’d bought at Napa and Walmart.

The next stop was the Arizona Department of Revenue office where I needed to renew my business permit for Flying M Air to sell drone photos in Quartzsite. That went surprisingly fast and only cost $12.

Then I had time to kill before an eye appointment. I took care of the returns and headed north through the Phoenix area. My appointment was in the Deer Valley area in North Phoenix. So was P.F. Chang’s and I was hungry.

My eye appointment was at 5 PM. Sunset was just after 5:30 PM. I was at least 50 miles from where I wanted to spend the night and I knew I wouldn’t make it before it got a lot darker than I like to drive in. So while I ate I started thinking about alternative places to spend the night, using satellite view in Google Maps to get ideas.

My Campsite
One of the best parts of RVing with a self-contained rig is that you can camp for free in a lot of different places. I know this particular area well; I used to land my helicopter at Wild Horse West for burgers once in a while.

Eye exam and some grocery shopping done, I climbed into my truck at about 6 PM and headed out. I ended up about 15 miles away, parked for the night in a deserted off-road vehicle camping area that was technically in Peoria. I didn’t think anyone would bother me and I was right. I spent the next hour organizing my camper for the next part of my journey and settled down with Penny to read a book. I was asleep by 9 PM.

Snowbirding 2019: The Long Drive

About 1,253 miles in three days. But who’s counting?

Posts in this series:
The Long Drive
At the Backwaters Campsite
In Mesa and Gilbert
A Quick Stop in Wickenburg and Forepaugh
Off Plomosa Road
• Camping at the Big RV Show
• A Trip to Organ Pipe with the WINs
The Tucson Gem & Mineral Shows
Wickenburg Gold Rush Days
• Constellation Park Interlude
• White Tank Mountain Park
Bumming It in Phoenix and Apache Junction
A Dose of Civilization
Return to the Backwaters

Note: I haven’t been blogging nearly as often as I should and I do need to apologize for that. I have some excuses. Do you want to hear them?

  • My 8-year-old laptop is so damn slow that it’s frustrating to use it. I ought to have bought a new laptop this winter, but I bought a Hobie kayak and a cargo trailer instead. (More on both in a moment.)
  • I discovered that the charger for said laptop sucks power out of my RVs batteries faster than my solar panels can put it back in so I haven’t been charging it. The idea of running a generator to charge a laptop is distasteful to me (although I do admit that I used it to charge all my drone batteries the other day).
  • I had seriously sucky Internet service for the first two weeks of my trip. (Of course, that didn’t stop me from getting on Twitter every single day.)
  • I’ve been extremely busy doing things other than sitting in front of a computer. (And isn’t that a good thing?)

Anyway, let me fill you in — as briefly as possible for me — on what I’ve been up to since I left my home in the capable hands of the best house sitter in the world on December 18. I’ll do it in multiple blog posts so I can bang them out more quickly and (hopefully) not put readers to sleep with a very long post.

– Maria


I took the fastest route from Malaga to my first long term campsite on the Colorado River. In case you’re wondering, that’s route 84 to Twin Falls, ID and down Route 93 to Las Vegas, NV. Because I really don’t like to drive in unfamiliar areas at night, I broke the trip up into three days and squeezed it into a weather window that called for some rain and high winds but no snow.

Fastest Route
Google knows its stuff. I’ve tried a bunch of different routes and this one is definitely fastest.

Sinclair
For some reason, Sinclair gas stations really crack me up. Does anyone else remember the old sitcom “Dinosaurs”?

The first day was Malaga to a state park in Glenns Ferry. I drove in light rain for the first half of the day, hitting the forecasted high wind right around Pendleton, OR, where I stopped for fuel and a late breakfast. I’d been a little concerned about my high profile vehicle — I’m driving a pickup truck with a relatively large Lance truck camper on top — but it didn’t really affect me as much as I’d worried. The truck drove well at the speed limit, which was 75 in most of Washington, 65 in Oregon, and as high as 85 in Idaho. (70 mph seems to be the most fuel efficient speed.) I stopped for fuel in Mountain Home right around sunset, so it was pretty dark when I arrived at Three Island Crossing State Park. From what I could see, there was only one other camper — a pull trailer with its lights on. I picked a site on the other side of the campground and backed in. Although the water was turned off for the winter, the electricity was turned on, so I could run my electric heater and use my coffee maker in the morning.

I left before dawn for day two, which took me into Twin Falls and then down route 93. Although 93 is only one lane in each direction, the speed limit was 65 and there was no traffic. I fueled up in Wells, NV and probably should have fueled in Ely. That made things a little tense when my thirsty truck’s low fuel warning came on in the middle of nowhere, NV. Fortunately, I found fuel in Ash Springs, a tiny town that might exist primarily as a fuel stop. From there, it was down 93 to I-15 and I-15 into my next night’s stop, the KOA at Sam’s Town Casino in Las Vegas.

I picked that campground for a few reasons. First, I know it. Second, it’s reasonably priced. Third, it has great, underutilized showers, which is important when your shower stall is your bathroom and you know it’s the only shower stall you’ll have for the next two weeks. Fourth, when I’m getting ready to start two full weeks off the grid, I want a fully charged battery, empty waste tanks, and full fresh water tanks — all of which I could get at a full hookup campsite.

I had dinner at Sam’s Town: a half-dozen oysters on the half shell, an end cut of prime rib which was too big to finish and wound up being fed to dogs over the next week or so, and cheesecake. I stuffed myself, which was a big mistake. Honestly, the prime rib wasn’t even good. I could have spent the same on a much better and lighter meal at MGM Grand; one of their restaurants has an excellent steak tartare.

Oysters Prime Rib
The oysters were amazing. I probably should have had 2 dozen of those and skipped the rest of the meal. Or not?

In the morning, I had a long, hot shower, took care of the waste and fresh water in my rig, and headed out, stopping at Walmart for bottled spring water and Trader Joe’s for other goodies on my way out of town.

I didn’t take the quickest route from Vegas to my final destination. Instead, I took route 95 to I-40, crossed, the river, and drove south on the Arizona side through Lake Havasu.

Clouds
The clouds were amazing as I drove down route 95 south of Boulder City toward I-40.

London Bridge
While I was at Lake Havasu City, I stopped for fish and chips at a restaurant near London Bridge.

You see, I’d been thinking about a Hobie inflatable kayak for about a year. I’d left home without my kayak and I wanted another look at the Hobie. At the Hobie dealer in Lake Havasu, I took one for a test pedal/paddle — it has a pedal drive — and bought it. Somehow, we squeezed it into my camper, which was already full with all the additional crap I had to bring south with me to show my jewelry at shows in Arizona.

I arrived in Ehrenberg, AZ around 3:30 PM and stopped at the post office, where I retrieved my box key and collected the mail already waiting for me. (I rent a box there every winter.) Then I drove south on the unpaved Oxbow Road, my fingers crossed. There were three sites I was considering; last year we’d been stuck with the last choice. This year, luck was on my side — I was absolutely thrilled to find my first choice campsite unoccupied. After debating with myself on how I’d park my camper to get the best view of the backwater channel while not completely isolating myself from a friend who’d be joining me, I backed in, dropped the camper’s legs, and pulled my truck away. If my truck could sigh in relief, I think it would.

Camper View
Here’s the view from my camper’s back door. I always try, when parking out in the desert to put something I’d like to look at out my back door where I can see it from my dining table.

My 1250+ mile drive was over.

The Dancing Cow

A fable as told by Mary Poppins.

Mary Poppins is back in theaters. The current movie is a sequel — not a remake — after all, how could they even think of remaking a perfect classic? — but it did get me thinking about the original. I was three when it came out in 1964 so if I saw it then, I don’t remember. I did see it sometime when I was a kid. And I saw it again recently, when I spied it on some streaming service and decided to settle down for a little fantasy from my childhood.

There was a movie a year or two ago with Tom Hanks playing Walt Disney and wooing Mary Poppins author P.L. Travers to get the rights to make a movie. I didn’t see that movie, but it did get me wondering about the book the movie was based on. So yesterday, when I was browsing the audiobook selections at my public library and saw the original Mary Poppins book available, I borrowed it and downloaded its files to my phone, along with a half dozen other audiobook titles. Although I started to listen to Neil deGrasse Tyson’s Astrophysics for People in a Hurry, I quickly realized, as my mind kept wandering, that I cared very little about quarks and bosons. I needed something light that would pull me in with a story line. Mary Poppins was just the ticket.

So yes, as I drove southeast through Washington and Oregon in an 8,700-pound truck with a 4,400 pound camper with gear on top of it, I listened to a female British voice actor read Mary Poppins to me.

The book was different from the movie. In it, Mary is terribly vain and not especially nice. She does have that magic carpet bag, though. Bert is in just one chapter and doesn’t ever seem to meet the children. Jane and Michael have twin baby siblings, John and Barbara, who aren’t even a year old for half the book. Mr Banks is cheap but there’s no bank scene. There’s no chimney sweep scene, either (Bert is a street artist and a match seller). There are other scenes, though, that never made it into the movie and that’s what this post is all about.

You see, in one chapter, Mary Poppins told a story about a cow and I found a moral in it. I’m not sure if that’s what P.L. Travers intended, but I suspect it was. The moral had nothing to do with the rest of the story in the Mary Poppins book — at least not as far as I can tell.

Let me tell you a short version of the story.

The Story

There’s a cow called the Red Cow. She lives in a great pasture with the best grazing. Every year she has a Red Calf and she takes care of it. Her life is routine and blissful and she’s happy.

Then one day she starts dancing and she just can’t stop. She can’t sleep, she has trouble eating, and she can’t even properly take care of her Red Calf. While it isn’t exactly unpleasant, it’s definitely inconvenient and is disrupting her idyllic life. Not knowing what else to do, she decides to go to the king for help.

The king sees her dancing and commands her to stop. She can’t. Then he notices that she has a star caught in one of her horns. The courtiers try to pull it off. When that doesn’t work, the king tells one of the courtiers to look up a solution in an encyclopedia hidden under the throne. There’s no reference to a dancing cow, but there is a reference to a cow jumping over the moon. So the king tells her to jump over the moon. There’s some nonsense about her being a proper cow and cows don’t do that but she really isn’t given a choice. So she jumps over the moon.

On her way down, the star falls off her horn and drifts away. She lands in her own pasture where she’s greeted by the Red Calf and promptly pigs out on all that good grazing. She’s happy again.

But not for long.

She feels as if there’s something missing in her life and she connects it with the star. She enjoyed the dancing, even though it was a bit of an inconvenience. She wishes another star would come down and get stuck on her horn, but that doesn’t happen. So she goes to Mary Poppins’ mother to ask for advice. (That’s how Mary Poppins knows the story.) Mary’s mother says that stars fall down all the time, but seldom in the same spot. She’s not likely to catch one again in her own pasture.

And that’s when the Red Cow realizes that the best way to catch another star is to leave her comfortable pasture.

The Moral

It’s the moral of the story that really hit home for me, especially today. I spent the past week packing for a trip that would last two to three months. The whole time, I’d be living in my truck camper, often parked out in the desert without a power, water, or sewer hookup. Sometimes, I’d be so far off the grid I wouldn’t even get a cell signal. Although I don’t mind it at all — in fact, I rather like the challenge of living like this for a while every year — it’s not nearly as cozy and comfortable as my home.

And that’s what I was thinking about as I packed and did laundry and had a long, hot shower, and used the dishwasher and had super fast internet access and slept in a warm, cozy bed. That’s what I was thinking about throughout the day every day when I looked out the windows at the changing season on display.

Winter View from my Home
Here’s what it looked like from my north-facing windows the other morning. It’s hard to leave a view like this behind.

I was so comfortable at home. Out on the road I faced the real possibility of being cold at night and not having a good shower for quite a while. Laundry meant a laundromat, dishes would be washed by hand, I’d have to go outside and start up a generator — thus breaking the marvelous silence of the world around me — just to use the microwave.

What was I thinking? Why in the world would I want to leave my nice comfortable home for a less comfortable and often inconvenient life on the road?

I knew why: I love to travel, I love to be on the road, I love to visit with friends and see new things and go new places. And I love visiting a few places I’m very fond of. I love the freedom of a life on the road: coming and going as I please, changing plans as I see fit, making it up as I go along.

I love nights like tonight: parked in a mostly deserted state park campground on a river, sitting on my camper’s bed, typing a long overdue blog post into a laptop, glancing up through the skylight every now and then to watch the moon play hide and seek with some clouds. I like sipping a glass of wine and thinking about my day — rather than tuning into a television that distracts me from my own thoughts — and wondering what the next day will be like.

I could be the Red Cow, content in her comfortable home. But I’d rather get out and see if I can catch and hold a star. Even a modest little star that makes life different or special.

On the Cusp

I’m on the cusp of another major life change and it feels good. Exciting, uncertain, terrifying, challenging. I won’t say more now but I will say this: I’m pretty sure it was my brush with death back in February that has pushed me into thinking about another path to find and follow.

Understand this: at about 5 AM on February 24, 2018, I really thought I was going to die. I should have died. But I didn’t. I was the luckiest person on the planet that morning.

The lesson I took away from the experience was one I already knew: life is short. Don’t waste time doing shit you don’t like doing. Or shit you’re bored with.

I’m getting bored and it’s time for another change.

How I Spent My Autumn Vacation, Part 6: In Vermont

Not the peak color I was hoping for, but still a great time.

(Continued from Part 5: On the Road to Vermont)

My friends Tom and Tammy are among my oldest friends and that’s who I stayed with in Vermont.

But first, as you might expect, some back story.

The BBS Days and Beyond

I met Tom back in my BBS days — yes, I ran a multi-line networked bulletin board system (think prehistoric Internet) out of my home starting in 1989 when I bought the computer that changed my life. (I thought I’d blogged about the computer changing my life and hoped to link to that post, but a quick search yielded no results. I’ll have to blog about it in the future.)

At the time, Tom was working in a family owned business selling tombstones in a greenhouse just a few miles away. He ran a multiline BBS out of his office there. I honestly don’t remember how we met, but when I left my full-time job to become a freelance writer and computer trainer/consultant, I’d often spend free time visiting with him and talking about computers. Back then, I had an Apple Macintosh IIcx and I think he had a IIci. (I’d later run my BBS on a Mac SE/30, which was perfect for the task.

Through Tom, I became part of a computer “super user” network that included him and other BBS SysOps: Mike, Ralph, and Zeke. Mike was especially well connected. He worked for a design firm that did a lot of cutting edge things with computers and, thus, had access to all the latest and greatest hardware and software. We’d occasionally drive down to his office to gawk at his new toys and play with the latest offerings from Adobe and other companies, many of which no longer exist. (Aldus comes to mind.)

I was self-taught on computers and had managed to get a per diem gig teaching computer applications: Mac OS, Microsoft Word, Microsoft Excel, and Lotus 1-2-3. I think being so well connected with other computer superusers helped make that possible.

Anyway, time went on. Tom married Tammy. My future wasband and I went to the wedding. They sat us at the same table as Mike, who was so white he could be albino and another guy I didn’t know who happened to be the blackest black guy I’ve ever seen. Of course, he and Mike sat side by side. I wish I had a picture. (Isn’t it funny the things you remember?)

Tom and Tammy moved to Vermont not long after that. Tom was into winter sports and I think he was as fed up as I was becoming with the traffic, congestion, and expense of living in the New York City Metro area. He telecommuted to a new job with a big company. He’d gone beyond mere “superuser” status and was a networking expert. He could work from home with a fast Internet connection and he did, making occasional trips down to New Jersey when he needed to.

I didn’t see him at all after his move, but we kept in touch via email and a little Twitter and later text messaging.

Meanwhile, they had kids. Three boys, all named with the initial T.

I moved to Arizona and invited them to visit. But I could understand why they didn’t. Airfare isn’t cheap when you have to buy five tickets. And then there’s that school thing. They like winter sports so they couldn’t come in the winter. And who wants to go to Arizona on summer vacation?

We continued to keep in touch throughout my crazy divorce. He was extremely supportive, providing me with a lot of useful computer information when I needed it.

It was around then that Tom kept suggesting that I come stay with them for a while in Vermont. The boys were away at college (already!) and he had plenty of room in his big, old farmhouse. It was definitely an inviting idea. I hadn’t been to Vermont in years and I remembered how amazing the fall colors had been on my last trip. I envisioned another trip with my camera. We have a nice autumn here, but no autumn compares to Vermont’s.

Still, I couldn’t get a trip together. There was always something else I had to do in the autumn. But this year, I decided to go for it. After playing around with a calendar and his schedule, we decided I’d come during the first week in October.

At the T’s

I rolled up to Tom and Tammy’s house in the Maserati in late afternoon on October 1. It was overcast and wet. Tom came right out to greet me and Penny. It was really good to see him — for the first time in at least 20 years.

After chatting a bit and unwinding from my drive, he gave me the tour of the three-story wood frame house that dates back to the 1800s. They’d put me in Penny in one of two dedicated guest rooms on the second floor with the shared bathroom right outside my door. How nice!

Tammy was busy with something that evening, so Tom and I went out to get some dinner. Along the way, he showed me a few local highlights, including Singleton’s General Store, which features “guns and liquor.” (I had to buy a tee shirt.) We ate dinner at Mr. Darcy’s Bar and Grill. It was good.

Afterwards, back at the house, we just relaxed in the living room with his two big chocolate labs stretched out on the sofa with us. I was pooped and went to bed early.

SpeedTest
Not all rural areas have crappy Internet. The Ts access is three times faster than mine — and mine is nothing to be ashamed of.

The weather was kind of crappy the next day — overcast and rainy — and I had no problem amusing myself indoors while Tammy, a lawyer, and Tom worked in their offices. I’d brought a handful of stones and some jewelry-making supplies and tools. I sat at the kitchen table and made two pendants while Tom and Tammy occasionally stopped by to see what I was up to. I used Periscope to broadcast me creating a piece of jewelry and, although it didn’t have many viewers, I kept it running until the end. The Ts have excellent high speed internet, so I know I wasn’t straining anything.

Lego Candy
I took a photo of the Lego candies to share it on Twitter for my friend Andy, who is a real Lego fan.

Sometime during the day, we went to The Vermont Country Store, which exists to showcase Vermont products and sell tourists stuff they really don’t need. Yeah, I know I sound critical/cynical, but when you’ve spent enough time in tourist destinations, you really get a feel for that kind of shop. There was a lot of merchandise, including more candy and old-fashioned toys — like the ones we played with when I was a kid! — than I’d every seen under one roof. There was also clothes and linens, and kitchen stuff. And maple syrup, of course. One of the nice things was being able to taste three different colors of maple syrup, side by side — there really is a noticeable difference! It was a neat place to browse.

Tammy made dinner and we had a relaxing evening sitting around with the dogs and chatting. I didn’t feel guilty for doing almost nothing all day because I knew the weather would be better later in the week. Besides, it was nice to just take it easy in a comfortable place. I’d been on the move almost non stop since arriving in the New York area the previous Saturday.

Exploring the Forest on ATVs

Penny in the ATV
Penny wrapped in a blanket in a milk crate attached to the front of the ATV I rode. She wasn’t happy about it, but it was the only solution to bring her with us on the very bumpy roads.

Tom took Wednesday off. He pulled two ATVs out of his shed and fired them up. We mounted up, with Penny wrapped in blankets in a basket in front of mine, and headed out on back roads and trails into the adjacent national forest. The trails were very rough in parts, forcing me to slow down and remember my ATV training from about 20 years ago. I was able to follow Tom, but a few times he got way in front of me. It was a lot of fun to be challenged (for a change); my ATV riding in Washington is limited and local.

He showed me the foundations of an old farmhouse long gone and nearly forgotten in the forest and a lake his boys like to camp at, and an old irrigation setup with a dam. Everything was accessible only via narrow forest trails surrounded by relatively new growth trees showing their early autumn colors.

Forest Dam
One trail ended at this old cement dam that holds back a small pond for feeding an irrigation pipe.

It wasn’t raining but the forest was pretty wet and the trail was muddy in spots. I kept a sharp lookout for mushrooms — I was hoping to find some chanterelles — and I actually found some that could be edible. But “could be” isn’t the same as “are definitely” so I left them behind, not wanting to potentially poison my hosts or myself.

After asking me if I was up for a ride on a really rugged road, Tom led me back the way we’d come and then up a different road and trail. It started out the same as the others and then got very rough, with lots of big rocks, tree roots, and fallen branches across the trail. I followed as closely as I could without slipping out of my comfort zone. Suddenly, the trail ended at the edge of someone’s grassy yard and I admit I was a little surprised when Tom continued across it, hugging the edge of the grass. Then more trail and finally a turn with a climb up a short hill.

There was a log cabin there and we walked up the steps to sit on the porch. Tom and his family had been there many times; he knew the three men who had built it by hand. We looked out over the hillside, into a bank of clouds, and Tom assured me that there was usually an excellent view down into the valley and mountains beyond.

We were still sitting there when a small SUV drove up from the other direction and an older couple got out. One of the builder/owners. It felt awkward for only a few minutes; they quickly realized who Tom was. We were soon chatting with them about the place and when they unlocked it, they invited me in for a tour. It was a really basic place with two big rooms and a sleeping loft. Completely off the grid, it didn’t have any electric appliances.

As we chatted, the clouds lifted a bit to give us glimpses of the valley beyond. But they never lifted enough to give us a good view of the valley.

Valley from Cabin
The clouds lifted just enough to give us an idea of how amazing the view from the cabin’s porch might be on a clear day.

We headed back not long after that, taking it easy at the house. Tammy, who’d gone out for a meeting, returned with barbecue takeout from their favorite place. It was good.

Day Trip to Manchester

I was on my own the next day and that was fine. I decided to drive down to Manchester, with a stop for breakfast along the way. I also wanted to check out the Dorset Quarry, which I’d read a little about online.

So I headed out, dropping down off the mountain into Wallingford, where I picked up Route 140. A Google search before departing had me aiming for a little restaurant called Dorset Rising, but I soon reached a section of road work where the detours put me on progressively more rugged roads. Worried about the Maserati, I made my way back to the main roads and somehow wound up on Route 7. So I took that all the way down to Manchester and then came back up Route 30 to Dorset. I passed the quarry along the way, but my primary goal was breakfast so I kept going.

Although Dorset Rising had a nice outdoor dining area where I could have eaten with Penny, it was kind of nasty out — too cool to enjoy a meal outdoors. So I left her in the car and went inside alone. A while later, I was seated at a comfy table with a latte and a breakfast burrito in front of me. They had a nice selection of baked goods but I resisted the urge to take some with me. (We — well, mostly I — had been picking away at those Italian pastries since my arrival. They weren’t nearly as good after two days in a cooler as they had been fresh. Lesson learned.) Instead, I got an iced tea to go and got back on the road.

Dorset Quarry was right down the road and I pulled into the parking lot. The quarry has an impressive place in history: when it first opened in 1785, it was America’s first marble quarry. It supplied marble to there New York Public Library and other buildings in New York City and Washington DC.

I grabbed Penny’s leash and she and I left the car for a walk around what had become a popular local swimming hole. Of course, it was nearly deserted that day — certainly no swimmers — but I could imagine it being a fun spot on a hot day if it wasn’t too crowded.

Dorset Quarry
Dorset Quarry is a popular swimming hole — but not in early October.

Penny at Dorset Quarry
The south side of Dorset Quarry’s big pond. Can you see Penny running towards me?

We tried to walk around the north side of the quarry but the trail soon wandered off into the woods in a direction I didn’t want to go. So we backtracked to the road and walked over to the south side, past huge marble blocks left behind from operations long ago.

As I walked, I looked down at the ground along the path. I was looking for stones — small pieces of marble that I might be able to polish into cabochons. I wound up with about a dozen of them, all smaller than my two thumbs held side-to-side. I filled my jacket pocket.

We reached the place where a creek fed the pond. There was a bridge over the creek and a ladder coming out of the water. I don’t know how deep the water was; I couldn’t see the bottom.

I wandered around and took pictures. Then we wandered back to the car.

We continued on to Manchester, with a quick stop at the Kitchen Store at JK Adams. I was looking for a gift for my house sitter, who really likes to cook. Nothing struck me so I kept going.

A short while later, I was pulling back into Manchester Center and parking in the lot behind Northshire Bookstore, which Tom had recommended. That was, of course, my first stop and I, of course, left with books in hand. Penny and I walked up one side of Main Street and down the other. I wound up buying a maple syrup sampler for my house sitter. (I later kicked myself for not buying myself syrup; I erroneously thought I still had some at home.)

We walked back to the car and stowed my rather heavy purchases in the trunk, then headed down Depot Street, where there were a handful of outlet stores. I was looking for the “wood shop” Tom had told me about. Before I found it, I stopped in at Eddie Bauer, where they had a storewide sale, and bought myself a few shirts and a scarf. I also bought a scarf with pictures of a pug dog on it for my friend Janet, who travels with her aging pug, Lulu. Then Manchester Woodcraft, where they had a huge selection of reasonably priced items made of wood. Try as I might, however, I didn’t find anything I couldn’t go home without.

Then it was back to the car again, stopping only a moment to read the Thomas Jefferson quotes under a Jefferson monument. One of them really stuck with me and I took a photo to share it on Twitter:

Men by their nature are divided into two parties: those who fear and distrust the people, and those who identify themselves with the people, have confidence in them, cherish and consider them as the most honest and safe depository of the public interest.

You might be able to guess which party I’m in.

We continued south on route 7A, past the Orvis company headquarters and the American Museum of Fly Fishing. That got me thinking of Janet again — she’s really into fishing — but I didn’t stop.

Tom had suggested going to the top of Equinox Mountain to take in the views from up there, but when I arrived at the turn, I discovered that it was a toll road. Not willing to spend $20 for the privilege of driving up a mountain road to take in the view on a cloudy day, I skipped it.

I did stop, however, at the Arlington Dairy Bar where I took a photo and tweeted “Will brake for ice cream.” I had a shake and Penny had a small dish of vanilla ice cream. Then we were on our way again.

Arlington Dairy Bar
Will brake for ice cream.

We kept going, eventually reaching Bennington. By then, the weather had turned bad and I wasn’t interested in dealing with traffic to maybe find a place to get out and walk around. So I followed the signs for Route 9, which cut across the national forest on a scenic road that climbed up one side of the mountain and down the other. There wasn’t much to see in Wilmington, which was on the other side of the mountain, so I hopped on Route 100 and headed north. More pleasant driving, although the weather was either gray or drizzling rain the whole time.

By that time, it was late afternoon and I felt done exploring. I think the weather had a lot to do with it. But I did make one more stop: the Crowley Cheese Company, which was a few miles off the main road west of Okemo Mountain Resort. I tasted a bunch of cheeses and wound up buying two for my brother.

From there, it was back to the T’s.

Another guest joined us late that evening and, true to form, I’ve forgotten his name. He came up from New Jersey to do a photography job on Saturday. The four of us spent the evening watching a few episodes of a weird show on Netflix, sitting on the sofas with the dogs lying all over us. The newcomer wound up in the guest room next to mine.

Rutland, Okemo Mountain, and an Old Cemetery

The next day, I went with Tammy into Rutland, VT. She had a yoga class there and I had to visit the post office.

My big piece of luggage was already pretty heavy and I knew that if I added the books and rocks, it would likely weigh more than the 50 pounds allowed by the airline. The solution was to cram all that stuff into a flat rate box and send it home via Priority Mail. So after dropping Tammy off at yoga, I went in search of the post office and took care of that. I also sent Janet her scarf.

With a little time before I had to pick up Tammy, I found a car wash. I had a moment of fright when I saw brushes in the wash tunnel in front of me, but the guys working the controls flipped a few switching and nothing other than water touched the car. I could have made it look a lot better if I had a rag to dry it off afterwards, but I didn’t. Still, it was better than before I’d had it washed. I figured I’d wash it again in New Jersey before handing it off to my brother.

When I picked up Tammy, we weren’t in a rush to get back so we drove into town for some breakfast at one of the coffee shops there. I left Penny parked outside near the car. I had a great breakfast sandwich and managed to muster enough willpower to skip the pastry I wanted for dessert.

We drove back and Tammy got back to work. Tom was already working up in his office. The day had turned nice and I was ready for another day trip. This time, my destination was the Okemo Mountain Resort. Tom had told me that I could drive almost all the way up to the top of the mountain, hike a little more, and visit a fire tower at the summit. The weather looked good enough for a hike so I headed out around noon with Penny.

The drive up the mountain was mostly smooth with just one big pothole I almost didn’t avoid. At the top was a gravel parking lot with about ten other cars and space to back in the Maserati. I grabbed Penny’s leash and got out with her. Together, we walked through an open car gate and up a gravel road. Up is the appropriate word. The road climbed, sometimes steeply.

Tom had told me that the fire tower wasn’t visible from the road, but if I walked to the ski lift I’d be able to see it in the forest from there. But when I got closer, I found a small marked trail. I followed the sign onto a narrow trail into the woods.

Fire Tower
The fire tower atop Okemo Mountain.

Penny ran ahead, as she does. Some hikers coming back thought she was a stray and tried unsuccessfully to catch her. Then they saw me and told me what they’d thought and done. We all laughed. It was that kind of mellow, pleasant day.

We reached the fire tower and, because the stairs looked so iffy, I picked Penny up and carried up with me. It was only five flights and each flight was narrower than the one before it. I came up through the trap door and found myself in a small area with a wooden floor and glassless windows all around. I put Penny down and took in the views in all directions. It really was a gorgeous day.

View of Ludlow
Here’s the view to the east, toward Ludlow. As you can see, it wasn’t quite peak color yet, although I think the cold rain that had been coming through Vermont may have spoiled the autumn leaf season.

I took photos in most directions, including down toward the ski lifts. Then, hearing some people coming through the woods toward the tower, I picked up Penny and headed back down.

In the forest, a couple was stopped on the trail. The husband pointed out a cool looking little snake escaping into the underbrush while his wife absolutely freaked out. I tried not to laugh as I passed them and headed back to the road.

We walked around for a while by the ski lifts. I took some more photos.

Ski Lift
View from the top of one ski lift.

I went into the woods looking for mushrooms and found a bunch — but not the ones I hoped to find. I played with the portrait mode on my iPhone and found myself disappointed again at how limited it was for subjects other than people’s faces.

Mushroom1 More Mushrooms
The obligatory mushroom photos. I took more than a dozen but I’ll only bore you with two.

After poking around in the woods for a while, we went back the car and headed down the mountain. I stopped along the way at a view point where a couple were having some wine and cheese at a picnic table. We chatted for a while (of course) and I discovered that they were from New Jersey. They tried to talk me into have lunch at the restaurant near the bottom of the road, but when I drove past a few minutes later, I knew it wasn’t for me. Instead, I drove into Ludlow, parked, and had lunch with a hard cider outside Mojo Cafe, which I highly recommend.

After a quick walk in town, we got back into the car and headed back to the T’s.

I did make one other short trip before day’s end: to that old cemetery down the road. It was full of wonderful old tombstones, many of them very ornate. The oldest one I saw dated back to 1809, making the cemetery over 200 years old. I walked among the stones, taking photos and thinking about the people who had lived and died — sometimes quite young — in the area. There was one row of stones with the same last name repeated over and over. You could follow the history of the family as you walked in one direction or the other.

Tombstone Tombstone
Two of the dozens of interesting old tombstones in this 200+ year old cemetery.

Later that evening, we were back in Ludlow for dinner. The plan had been to have dinner at Homestyle Hostel, but the place was mobbed and we couldn’t get a table. After a few craft cocktails across the street at Main and Mountain Bar, we wound up at another restaurant a bit farther down the road. I honestly can’t remember what it was called — maybe I had too many cocktails? We had a good dinner and I picked up the tab, mostly because I really appreciated having such a great week with my friends in Vermont.

Last Day

The whole time I was in Vermont, I was pretty vague about when I would leave. Originally, I was going to leave on Thursday; I had some friends in New York State I was hoping to visit for a day or two on my way back to New Jersey. But I was enjoying myself so much that when Tom and Tammy told me to stay through the weekend and my brother reported that he had to work on Saturday and go to a match on Sunday, I agreed to stay until Saturday. I figured I’d spend Saturday evening and Sunday with my friends in New York.

Saturday was the day of the farmer’s market in Rutland. Tom, Tammy, and I headed out together in the morning to see what they had that we wanted. It was a nice farmers market, even that late in the season, with plenty of produce and baked goods and other items. I wound up buying a package of frozen spaetzle, a German pasta that my grandfather and dad used to make when I was a kid. (And no, it wasn’t nearly as good as theirs was.) We wound up walking into town and having breakfast at the same place Tammy and I had eaten the day before. I had the same breakfast sandwich since it had been so good.

We headed back to the T’s after that. I’d already repacked my bags, setting aside enough clothes in a smaller bag for my overnight stay in New York. I packed everything into the car’s trunk, loaded Penny on board, and said goodbye to my hosts.

It had been a great six-day stay in Vermont, despite the less than perfect weather and the disappointing foliage. There’s nothing like reconnecting with old friends in person. I just hope I have the opportunity one day to return the favor and host them on a trip out west.

It was a little after noon when I finally left. I had a long drive ahead of me, but it felt good to be heading toward my next destination.

(Continued)