Into the weekend

Today was a good, low-key day with not a lot of travel. I got my lights fixed this morning, drove to my destination for the day, and settled in for the weekend. My scooter is off the carrier and has been slightly warmed up - it rained a lot this afternoon yet so I didn't ride it much. But I got out to the general store in Stonington early this evening yet. I'm staying in Old Mystic, and plan to explore Mystic and the seaport area tomorrow, tooling around on the Vino since the sun is supposed to shine. It's going to be a bit chilly, but nice - finally. I think perhaps tomorrow I'll even hit Mystic Pizza. After I work out at the Curves that's 2 miles from here, of course. I think I may also get some reading done this weekend too. So far I've finished one fiction book, so it's time to read something of substance.

Lost Day

Today was one of those rare days that I wished I fit the profile of a typical pastor. Usually I rebel against the stereotypes and expectations, and am proud that I don't fit the mold. But when the Massachusetts state trooper pulled me over for a broken tail light about noon, I wished I did. Yes, just a broken tail light. No speeding. No erratic driving. No suspicious activity. Just a turn signal and brake light that didn't work as I exited off the turnpike to get gas for the Beast. About 45 minutes to an hour later, I finally got to drive on down the road, with a warning ticket to repair the light and the insight that I fit the profile of a typical drug runner.

Not quite the "pastor" image, huh? Seems they have a problem in the area with people carrying drugs up and down the coast using RV's. So this woman, traveling alone in an old RV was suspicious. As he checked out the mapquest print outs and maps on my passenger seat, he spent several minutes asking me all kinds of questions - where I had been, where I was going, when I had started on my trip, what I did. I thought that by telling him I was a Lutheran minister, he would realize that I was no threat. Ha! Just the opposite, it seems. That would make a good cover for a drug runner, don't you think? That's what he thought. At the time I didn't realize that was what he suspected of me, but I could tell his many questions were not out of simple interest in my journey.

So when he went back to his car with my license and registration, I fully expected him to come back in a few minutes after seeing my clean record with just a warning to get my light fixed. A good 20 minutes later, I was starting to wonder what the heck was going on. I thought about calling someone, but decided that if I got on my cell phone he might be even more suspicious of me for some reason. Finally he came back, and it was then that I noticed he wasn't just a plain ol' state trooper either. He had on some special uniform for 'fugitive apprehension' or some such thing with all the security garb and everything. Now I was starting to worry a bit - did I look like someone who was harboring a fugitive or something?

He apologized for the delay, and told me that he couldn't find my RV registration on the computer, but since I actually had my registration with me, he would give me the benefit of the doubt. Don't know why the state of Wisconsin doesn't have me on record... I've paid my $67.50 both years I've had the RV now. Anyway, that's when he told me about the people transporting drugs using RV's and asked me if I didn't think that a minister would be a good cover for a drug runner. So he asked me even more questions.... all the same ones he had asked earlier, plus more about this trip I was taking and whether anyone had asked me to transport anything for them and "wouldn't I have more fun if I had someone with me?" In other words, he was still suspicious of the fact that I was traveling alone. He then asked if I'd mind if he poked his head in the RV for a while. Other than the fact that it needs cleaning, I was more than happy to have him come in and see my cabinet full of theological books and too many clothes and shoes and even my minister's garb in the closet for when I'm preaching at Mom & Dad's church in July. But he just took a quick look around and decided I was ok, I guess.

It was after he allowed me to go that I realized how freaked out I was by the whole thing. When I called Linda to vent, she reminded me I always tell too much about myself too, and that probably made him suspect me more. THAT ticks me off. Yes, I'm an open book, but shouldn't that make me more trustworthy, and not suspect? But no. In this world, when I'm open and trusting with some people it makes me a target for being used. With others it makes me somehow suspect because it's so 'unnatural.' That's just WRONG. So with my mood for the day ruined, and my paranoia at high level as I drove off (was he following me to see if I was delivering my drugs?) I decided I wasn't in much of a sight-seeing mood. Plus every time I turned right, I was worried that another cop would pull me over for the same reason.

Rhode Island looked nice as I drove through. I even finally drove along the scenic highway 1A and took one look at the bridge across Narragansett Bay to Newport and decided no way was I navigating my Beast across that, so I headed to Connecticut where I am now tonight. This campground has a service center and they're getting me in tomorrow morning to fix my tail light. I sure don't want to go through that again.

I don't think I'll be going back to Massachusetts anytime soon - at least not with my Pink Beast.

Groovin' down the highway

My mother joined me on my trip today. Not literally, but she was sure with me in spirit as I drove through the northwest corner of Massachusetts. I certainly didn't expect to be driving through any mountains in Mass, but there I was winding my way up and back down the lower portion of what I think was the Green Mountains. There were a few stretches that would have made my mother nervous. That's when she joined me.

I could see her sitting in my passenger seat gripping the arm rest with her fingers rubbing back and forth. She has a habit of doing that when she's either nervous or lost in thought. (Seems to be genetic, as I find myself doing the same thing without thinking.) It wasn't enough that I could see her there, but I also heard her voice, "Don't you think you should slow down?" It brought back many memories of one of the few trips we were able to take when I was a kid. We went to Montana and Wyoming and drove through many mountains on narrow, winding roads. Of course they were much higher and the drop-offs were much steeper. But today still would have been enough to make Mom grip that arm rest. The "Bear Crossing" sign would have only added to her anxiety.

But despite the pain-in-the-butt roads, the scenery was beautiful and I only ticked off a few people who got stuck behind my Pink Beast crawling up and down those hills. I also got my shopping groove on today! Bennington Potters, The Apple Barn, a maple syrup farm, and the giant Yankee Candle store in central Massachusetts. I'm staying near there tonight because to get to the next campground along my route would have meant getting into camp way too late.

I think people in New England must not camp much. The choices of campgrounds here in Massachusetts and in the days to come in Rhode Island and Connecticut are very slim. The one I'm at is the most poorly run campground I've been at yet this trip, but I don't have a lot of choice in the matter. (I'd have another way to describe the operation here, but some of my church kids may be reading this blog.) And one look at the shower during my exploration has helped me decide that I'll get an earlier start tomorrow because I won't be showering! Oh well, it's a place to stay for the night.

Rain, Rain Go Away

OK, it's been raining way too much on this trip. Not a heavy, stop me from going anywhere kind of rain - just a dreary, constant threat of starting up again kind of rain. Even so, driving through New York state, and now this corner of Vermont, has been beautiful. Today I made it to Cooperstown to get to the Baseball Hall of Fame. I don't know if it was all the rain and cloudy dreary weather or what, but I got kind of emotional during the multi-media presentation in their theater.

Yeah, I know I'm always a sap. I cry at tv commercials, fer Pete's sake! But a history of baseball movie? Could have been hearing the reactions of all the school groups there to the stuff in the movie. Could have been the thought of all the years that baseball has been such a staple in some people's lives. Could have been just remembering some of my own experiences in stadiums with family and friends. I don't know. Or maybe I was just tired from driving in that darn rain!

It was a very cool thing though, and I'm glad I went a little out of my way to get to Cooperstown. No I'm not going to look for the theological significance of baseball. I'm not going to try to make it into a sermon illustration - although I did once read a book about baseball theology. It was just a simple pleasurable experience about a simple pleasure in life. Guess I better make sure I hit the Pro Football Hall of Fame on my way back through Ohio in July, to see how it compares.

Tomorrow will be about another simple pleasure - shopping! I have to check out the Bennington Potters factory and yard store while I'm here in town and I saw some cool looking shops along the way to the campground too. Plus I must get some Vermont maple syrup. I know they have it in all the shops, but I noticed on my way out of town to this beautiful campground in the hills that there was a farm on the side of the road where they produce their own and sell it. That's what I want - from the people who made it themselves. Now let's hope the rain stops so I can actually enjoy the shopping experience!

Sidenote to all people who are into antiques, B & B's, and wineries (seems like folks who like one like all three) you truly must plan on a trip to New York sometime. From the time I was driving up the Lake Erie side of the state, there were constant vineyards and wineries. Driving along Hwy 20 across the state, there were a scattering of more wineries plus more antique shops than I have ever seen in my life. And traveling through the Finger Lakes region, there were far far more Bed & Breakfast establishments than there were hotels and campgrounds combined! Sounds like heaven for some of my friends.... I didn't check any of them out (since I'm not all that into antiques or wine, and I have my own B&B on wheels) but I'm sure there must be some good ones in the mix.

Back roads

Today I got off the beaten path a bit as I headed east. After stopping in Buffalo to have buffalo wings in their original home - the Anchor Bar - I decided to avoid the toll roads and freeways. So I headed across New York on Hwy. 20, a two lane highway that goes through every little town and burg. It was a nice drive at a leisurely pace, raising the question, "Do farmers everywhere drive 10 miles below the speed limit?"

I also came up with a couple of other questions. First of all, as I drove through the hamlet of Townline, I wondered what exactly is a 'hamlet'? It seemed to be much smaller than the 'village' that I drove through next. So is it bigger than a 'town' or a 'township'? I like the sound of it though - a hamlet.

Another question - or more of an observation. I passed a road called "2 Rod Road" and a little later passed "4 Rod Road." You would think the next one would be 5 or 6, but down another stretch I passed "3 Rod Road." Shouldn't 3 be between 2 and 4?

Just some thoughts. Another thought that I should have added yesterday, after spending some time at Lake Ontario. How amazing that water can be so powerful and dangerous up the river leading to Niagara Falls and going over those rocks. But there at Lake Ontario, the same water was calm and blue and beautiful. Well, it was beautiful in both situations - powerful & dangerous, and calm & peaceful. But it was in it's path over the rocks and rough spots that the water became it's most powerful. What does that say about life?