Roadtripping #7

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It’s been some time since we have seen any snow lying on the ground.
The trees are still naked here, but it’s a nice change to see them bathed in sunshine rather than snow, mist or rain. 

We are passing through Connecticut without any plans to stop.
Hartford is an attractive city from what I can see.
Waterbury is pretty too, with some beautiful buildings and a really nicely laid out lawn cemetery.  The roads are really rough though. That’s not cool. 

Ugh. Traffic. 
We obviously didn’t skirt the more densely populated areas widely enough.
This road trip is not about being stuck in traffic. 
And the roads are still really rough. I think one of my kidneys just rattled loose.
Get your roadmaking act together, Connecticut. 

It’s after 6pm and we are heading East on Route 84. 
There is green grass here. It seems CT has shrugged winter off a little earlier than her northern counterparts, which is only to be expected. 
I’d still rather be in Canada. Sad face.

The road just got better. I think we must have crossed another state line.
Hello, New York.

Roadtripping #6

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As we crossed the border of Vermont, I channeled some Barry Gibb and sang 
‘Massachusetts’ for my companions. They were enthralled, of course. 
Mind you, I had been channeling Karen Carpenter all morning, as that’s what my brainPod was playing, so it was a refreshing change – for me, at least. 

We saw a sign to Shelburne Falls and decided to take a detour and look around.

Shelburne Falls is a really pretty town nestled below a hydro-electric plant on the Deerfield River in the hills of Massachusetts. There is a river with a causeway, from which water spills very prettily.  There are also some glacial potholes quite close to town: pools and channels carved out by water movement underneath a glacier, which makes these geological formations really old and really interesting. 

The shops in the street are really well presented, with personality reminiscent of the quirkiness and sense of fun that we saw last night in Montpelier. 

After crossing the bridge and taking a couple of snapshots, we visit the market store. It’s obviously run by hippies, but it is kind of cool. They have some really groovy knitted animals, and my friend distracts the store attendant while I take photos of them, just in case that is frowned upon by the aforementioned hippies. 

Then we visit Mo’s Candy Store. Even before we get in the door, we are greeted by cheerful violets in a half-barrel, and some brightly coloured chairs with cute sayings painted on them, like “When I feel blue, I eat pink ice-cream”. The presentation is really cute and inviting. It’s just what the entrance to a country town candy shop should be.

As we walk in the door, we are met with the most divine aroma. Not just sugar or the mixed fragrances of commercial candy. There are three confectioners making different types of candy at the back of the store. That’s what smells so amazing. 
This place has everything.  Chocolates, fudge, truffles, cookies, hard candy, taffy, and jars full of all kinds of sweets. 
I make my selection:  a PB cup in milk chocolate and one in dark chocolate, and the same choices in maple cups. Maple cups are new to me, but I love maple foods, so I know they will be a winner.  I also choose a peanut butter pothole cookie sandwich which looks mouth-wateringly divine: chocolate cookies filled with peanut butter cream. 

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Some of the treats at Mo's Candy Store.

I can feel my jeans getting a little tighter just thinking about that cookie, but it’s going to be totally worth it. 

Dumb and dumber.

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We stopped at a roadside information centre in Hartford, VT where there were several police vehicles, including a K-9 unit parked and talking casually.
Just as I was taking a typical tourist “rubbernecking” photograph of the police units, a shiny black truck pulled into the stop and sideswiped one of the police pickups.
The police yelled at the driver to stop, then to stop the engine and get out of the vehicle. The police dog barked and strained at its lead; they are trained to protect their officers and vehicles as well as sniffing out the bad stuff and things/people that need to be found. One officer picked up the fender of the pickup and tossed it in the back of the vehicle.
In those couple of very dramatic seconds, the truck driver responded by hanging out of the window of his truck and yelling at the police for parking in a stupid place.
Really? That’s how you’re going to respond to a bunch of angry cops when you have just tried to park on one of their vehicles?

We watched, quite amused, as the police went over every inch of his truck looking for violations.

As the officer with the dog brought his K-9 workmate back to his vehicle, I explained that I was a tourist from Australia and I would like a picture of his dog. They were both happy to pose for a picture, although Mitch the German Shepherd was still more interested in the scowling truck driver a few metres away.

Roadtripping #5

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Vermont really is stunning in its beauty and grandeur.
Mountains and trees and more mountains, with higher snowy peaks rising in the not-so-distant skyline.
Robust pines and cypresses boast their rich green among their naked deciduous forest neighbours, although some still bear a few almost transparent autumn leaves that have, by some miracle, held on through winter.
Signs along Route 89 promise moose crossing and bears crossing.
Given the number of signs, I am disappointed that we didn’t see a single one. That would have been really cool.

Snowing #2.

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It’s snowing in Montpelier, VT, this morning.
This gentle, whimsical snow is so pretty.
Lazy flakes of snow settle on my clothing and skin, but there is not enough to settle on the ground.
Perhaps this is Vermont’s way of apologising to me for yesterday’s misery.

Montpelier, VT.

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Montpelier is a very pretty city. Quirky storefronts, colourful houses, clean streets, and big churches. The shops and businesses here have clever names – there is obviously a culture of thoughtfulness and word play here that I really admire and enjoy.
One gets the distinct impression that there is money here. This is, perhaps, the playground of the well-to-do who like having ski resorts and snowfields conveniently close. I don’t see any small or beat-up houses, nor any old cars in the street or driveways. People here might not all be rolling in it but, generally speaking, they are closer to being “rich” than the people in my small country town or any other town like it.

It would be great fun to explore some of these shops, but it’s getting late and people are closing the doors and heading home for the night.
I don’t blame them.

Roadtripping #4

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The border crossing at Highgate Springs was easy. Too easy. No lines, no drama. No official acknowledgement of my heartbreak at leaving Canada so soon.
Our passports were scanned and we were waved on.

We are heading into Vermont late in the afternoon.
I don’t want to be here. I want to be back in Canada, following my original plans and enjoying the company of those with whom I had planned to pursue those dreams. Tears and resentment make it hard to see or appreciate anything much.
It wasn’t meant to be this way. It’s not OK. I’m not OK.
Take me back. Please?

The RV rumbles down highway 89.
In the hope of finding somewhere to stay overnight, we pull in to an information centre.
The guy there tells us that there are no campgrounds open yet – the “season” doesn’t start until May 1. Then he tells us that there are no “travel plaza” truck stops in Vermont, because “that kind of commercialisation” is not what Vermont is about.
Fabulous.
More tears.
I’m over it.
Let’s turn around and go back to Canada.
No, eh? Damn.

Another traveller informs us that Walmart allow/welcome campers in their parking lots because they know there is nowhere else for them to go at this time of year.
The information centre guy fills his ‘information’ role by googling Walmart locations for us. Thanks buddy, but we are capable of doing that ourselves.

We head for Montpelier and Barre in the hope of finding a friendly Walmart.
Thank God we are self-sufficient. And thank God for Walmart.

Oh, Canada #2

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Oh, Canada.
I don’t want to leave you.
It’s too soon. I want more.
I don’t care about cold, or snow, or wintery pictures.
I’m not done loving you yet.

I promise you, I am coming back.
This is not goodbye. This is “see you later, eh!”

Wait for me.
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Roadtripping #3

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Adverse weather conditions further east and north have caused us to cut our trip through Canada short. Our plan was to head for New Brunswick, Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island, but there are high winds and too much snow and ice for safe travelling in an RV.
I am devastated about that, but unwilling to drive into danger to pursue my desire to see the Island.
I have wanted to go to PEI ever since I read Lucy Maud Montgomery’s ‘Anne of Green Gables’ books as a young girl. It was definitely on the bucket list for this holiday, and I’m afraid it will have to remain there for my next visit to Canada.

So, we have decided to go south rather than east.
Sorrow.

Quebec #4

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Philipsburg, St Armand… Finally.
I have wanted for so long to be here.
It’s a small, quite old-fashioned village. It’s late afternoon on a cold day, so there is nobody about. The crisp air bites at my face as I stand at the shore of Lake Champlain. My mind sees the images of the lake in different seasons that I have looked at so often, taken from this same vantage point.
Today my photographs are of the frozen lake, still deep in its hibernation over winter. I now have a complete set.
The Canadian Legion branch 82 is closed today, but I know what it is like inside anyway.
The church nearby is also closed, but in my mind I see a happy couple and a proud father on the steps, smiling for photographs and enjoying their special day.
I know a number of the locals, although they do not know me.

I take photographs for the memories, but I know I will return. Part of my heart remains here. I’m never really far away.