It never completely feels like you’re “on vacation” until Monday morning – when you know everyone else is at work and you find yourself hundreds of miles away from home. It’s a funny feeling breaking out of the routine, but since there had been a 17 month lapse since my last vacation, my senses were long overdue and it felt good to wake up at the Comfort Inn in Scranton, Pennsylvania.
The day before I had drove North on Interstate 81 through the Shenandoah Valley, recalled all of my memories of Virginia, crossed West Virginia, Maryland, visited Gettysburg in the afternoon sun and made my way to this hotel when I started getting tired of driving somewhere around 10pm. My thoughts were a short night in a hotel would be a good spot to begin my drive on day two across the Catskill Mountains.
There was nothing special about the morning other than the novel continental breakfast. A few travelers were making their way downstairs while CNN rambled the morning headlines. I was amused at the “do-it-yourself” pancake bar and surprised at how much you can do with a little water, a bag of mix and a waffle maker. Never saw a self-serve device like this, but the idea of a hot waffle with plenty of sticky syrup was amusing to start my day, despite the fact it tasted like it came from an Easy-Bake oven.
I didn’t want to waste anytime and after a handful of minutes in the lobby, I was packed and ready to head East into unchartered territory in Western New York. The sun was just coming up over the mountains and the morning traffic was dying down and I hoped into the Jeep and turned up the stereo for some traveling music.
Before I left for this vacation, I made one massive Mp3 mix of plenty of new music from Athlete, Broken Social Scene, Dismemberment Plan, Ben Harper and an abstract collection of funk from The Funk Brothers. I never took the CD out of the deck either. My soundtrack was perfect too as I drove along Highway 9 across hillsides of pictureresque Pennsylvania townships, each one colored in the random orange of early fall and a cool morning mist was rising from the the valley.
The hills came on like waves as I crossed into Western New York over the Delaware River and every turn was a postcard. Bright colors, pristine blue lakes, a casual stillness in the air as long shadows and crickets during the daylight hours made my morning trek serene. There were lots of photo opportunities along the way including some old churches, more fall colors and the landscapes around one of my favorite little towns along the way – Starlight Lake. Sounds like a nice place to visit – either that, or a plot for a horror movie.
I’ve always heard people talk about the Catskill Mountains and since most of my life as grown up around the foothills of the Smokies, I was excited to experience the new mountain scenery, but I can’t say that it’s as special as my Tennessee home – at least not in this portion of the state. Most of the mountains were actually quite small in contrast to the Appalachian and Smoky Mountains, but the drive along crystal clear trout streams sprinkled with bright purple asters on quiet mountain roads make this place a special refuge for anyone around New York.
I took the backroads across The Catskills and it took longer than I imagined, but it was worth the time. I finally made it to the Eastern part of the state and stopped for a late lunch at a cliffside restaurant called the Overlook which overlooked five states.
The afternoon was spent winding my way through towns bordering Massuchusetts. I had been driving for about six hours when I finally crossed over Herman New York and the Rip Van Winkle bridge and finally arrived in Massachusets about dusk. It was still light enough to see the incredible historic charm of of this state and the first thing I recall was a Shaker Village.
The Shakers are an important chapter in American History and still practice an orthodox life of simplicity much like the Amish and the Quakers. Their rustic way of life is accented by furnishings that are often dark and simple and meeting places where it was said they would “shake” during ceremonies, thus the namesake. Here are a few photos just inside the State Line.
It wasn’t long that the shadows from the Catskills blanketed the valleys with night. I did watch the sunset over these villages from the top of a high ridge before settling into the rest of mile miles to Concord and it was thrilling to be a long way from my routine.
Driving through Massachusetts is terribly frustrating at night. One of the first things you may notice is there are no billboards! Some time ago, this sounded like a good idea to me, less billboards and more natural scenery, but if you’re a tourist it’s ridiculous– especially at night! My daylight hours were tough too. I wanted to find a good restaurant and a hotel along the way, but driving in the dark with vague road signs that say “Food” or “Lodging” as the markers are hardly a clue and has to be rotten for tourism. When the sun went down on my first night, I dropped off on many side roads wasting time and flirting with finding myself lost. Nevertheless, I finally reached made it to Concord, MA close to 11pm.
Like alot of European roadways, Concord has lots of “roundabouts” in the city. There are no red lights, but rather simple circles that can become confusing if you’re not careful. The first roundabout into Concord led me to one of the only hotels – a Quality Inn on the edge of town. Perhaps I was expecting a bit more in the way of accommodations and eateries, but the Monday night life in Concord is sleepy indeed. Instead of running around trying to find a better hotel, I decided to bunk in the night and get a fresh start in Concord on Tuesday.