From Newport, we were looking at four days of driving to get back to Springfield for Dad’s surgery. For that first night, I had reservations at a Thousand Trails park in Pennsylvania Dutch Country. That would get us more than a quarter of the way there.
New York City.
I had mapped a GPS route that veered around New York City. That was the last place I wanted to drive through on a Friday afternoon. But when we got to the exit to take us off on the expressway loop, there were warning signs for low clearance. NO TRUCKS! 10 Foot Clearance! Kate pulled out of the exit lane just in time. Seeing our change in course, Siri rerouted us to stay on I-95, which put us driving in Manhattan and over the George Washington Bridge at exactly 5:00 on an August Friday night. In a motorhome, towing a car. Bumper to bumper for two hours.
It’s a good thing Kate was driving, because she’s much more collected than I am when it comes to driving in cities. Hell, she even drove an RV in Paris! But me… I’ll take hairpin turns on the Pacific Coast Highway over New York traffic any day. I was a nervous wreck from the passenger seat! And by the time we got to New Jersey, I said, “Good riddance, New York!!” In an RV, at least.
Buggy on the road.
It was dark by the time we got to Pennsylvania, and we had to take some smaller roads to get to the RV park. We passed several Amish buggies driving on the side of the road with flashing red lights, and I was happy to be in the countryside again. There were farms and tiny villages. Many of the houses were dark except for candles in each of the windows.
When we got to the Pennsylvania Dutch RV Park, the host said, “It’s too hard to get into a site in the dark. You’ll have to park over in the lot until morning.” That seemed crazy to me, but we went with it. And in the morning, another host came around and thanked us for being cooperative and offered us free breakfast in the store.
Clothes on a line.
I really wanted to see more of Pennsylvania Dutch country in the daylight, so we left Bessie in the park with Bailey and Gypsy and took the CRV for a drive. Surprisingly, we didn’t see any more buggies. Just a few people in Amish clothing: men and boys in straw hats and suspenders, girls in solid-colored frocks. It was a beautiful drive on a sunny Saturday morning. Old stone houses and barns, villages dating to the 1700s. Even the cows looked relaxed and happy. I love this area, and I’d like to come back through it and spend some time.
I was thinking of you two a lot when I was visting Eugene. Amazingly, it turns out one of my dear friends, who I haven’t seen since the seventies, lives just a few blocks from your house. Had an amazing road trip with Shea up in Oregon. I could happily have travelled like that for weeks if I didn’t have to be back to care of my old horse. Inspired how you tied up lose ends, rented out your place and hit the road.