No ETA: Bob, Marty, and Julia On Tour

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2011-03-06T06:18:00.000-08:00

2010-03-31T21:55:00.000-07:00

The No ETA Tour has essentially come to its end. Our lease on the Palm Desert condo was up at the end of March and we are heading east. There will be stops along the way and adventures to come, but travel from now on is to get someplace, not for its own sake.

Our family sabbatical thus will have spanned the seasons from August to April. Our rough itinerary changed in important respects as we went along; we spent the winter in Palm Desert, CA instead of roaming the Pacific and we have put off until another year our trip to Greece and Rome. But for all that we have had the rare opportunity to see large portions of the U.S. and Canada and to be with each other 24/7 for more than 8 months.

Here are a few lessons learned:

•Serendipitous travel worked well for us. We rarely planned our next destination; we made few advance reservations. By 4 PM most days we knew where we would stop for the night. We tried to stay several nights in each location to cut down on the packing/unpacking, and to go deep rather than wide. We valued recommendations that we heard as we went along, especially from locals. The web site Yelp proved very useful for restaurant and hotel advice.

•Our decision not to tie up capital in an RV proved to be sensible. We tent camped; we stayed in motels, inns, cottages, and a few upscale hotels; we rented a condo for several months. Financially this was probably a wash, but there was a clear gain in flexibility.

•Travel with a pet is limiting. There are increasingly fewer pet friendly hotels/motels, and many charge up to $20 per night for the privilege. The only chains that we know of that welcome dogs and don’t charge are LaQuinta Inns and Drury Inns. The AAA Tour Books are valuable for finding places to stay that take pets. We also found that several western states do not allow dogs in state parks, even in the parking lots. Furthermore, national parks do not allow dogs on trails. So Baxter spent much of his time in the car as we toured museums and gardens, and day hiked.

•Home schooling (or “road schooling’) requires a significant amount of time. Some kids might work well under a regimen that allows them to determine their own pace and time to complete a set of daily assignments. We generally adopted a more rigid system of school in the morning and adventures in the afternoon, starting each weekday at 8 AM. Sometimes it was a challenge to find a quiet spot in which to work.

•Families who travel in the U.S. for an academic year will find that the dark months of December, January, and February pose a challenge. Generally speaking there are few places in which the temperatures are warm enough to be outside each day during these months. And the short days mean that by late afternoon it is dark. Florida on the East Coast and the Southern California desert in the West are about it. Any elevation above 1,000 feet will be too cold for camping, except in an RV with heat.

•There are many places to see and much to do; there is never enough time to do everything. When the trip is over there will still be lots left for the next time.

2010-03-29T20:42:00.001-07:00

Finally, at the end of March, the desert is in bloom. The locals say this is a great year, due to to the significant rain that fell in mid-January. It certainly is a rare treat for us New Englanders to see that cactus, of all varieties, develops such brilliant colors. Apparently the flowers will last two weeks or so and then, suddenly, all goes brown again as the desert plants tuck deep within themselves to endure the searing summer and fall.

2010-03-25T10:03:00.000-07:00

Andrew is spending spring break this week with us in Palm Desert. With guide Dennis, who we met in Red Rock Canyon near Las Vegas in November, Andrew and Marty spent a day on the rock formations of Joshua Tree National Park. And we all went up the Palm Springs Tram to Mt. San Jacinto, still deep in snow. For a Maine family spending the winter in the Coachella Valley it was great fun to toss snowballs at each other.

2010-03-23T17:49:00.000-07:00

San Diego is just 90 minutes from Palm Desert, across the mountains. But a world away. Whereas the Coachella Valley is a string of small cities, with national, state, and regional parks, BLM land, and agricultural areas, San Diego County is densely populated and typical Southern California sprawl. We spent a week amidst the crowded freeways, based first near “Old Town” and then north in Carlsbad. The first location gave ready access to the famed zoo, and the many attractions of Balboa Park – the Science Museum, the Museum of Man, two art museums, a Japanese garden, the Botantical Society building, and the park itself. Carlsbad put us close to the Pacific beaches, Scripps Aquarium, Torrey Pines and, of course, Legoland.

2010-03-02T16:17:00.000-08:00

Many may think of Sonny Bono as merely the weak end of the duo with Cher. But he is remembered in these parts as a politician – mayor of Palm Springs and Congressman. We drive on Sonny Bono Avenue, when we go to the Springs, and yesterday we visited the Sonny Bono Wildlife Preserve on the shore of the Salton Sea. The Sea is a giant lake (380 square miles) that formed when part of the Colorado River was misdirected for a year and a half before the First World War. It has waxed and waned ever since while growing increasingly saline. That much water in an otherwise vast desert has naturally attracted large quantities of birds and other critters, hence the preserve. Sonny slipped in a few earmarks to try to have more water directed to the inland sea; the reclamation project now seems to be languishing and evaporation is taking its toll.

Nearby are several thermal energy generating plants and thermal mud pots. These vents steam and bubble away; it would be a fine place for a coven of witches to meet.

2010-02-22T12:06:00.000-08:00

The Coachella Valley would be dust dry desert were it not for the geological faults that run through here. The faults cause water to percolate to the surface in spots and these oases have attracted humans and wildlife for thousands of years. Most of the original water holes are now parts of gated communities and golf courses. But Palm Canyon in the city of Palm Springs has been miraculously preserved. It is managed by the Aqua Caliente band of Cahuilla Indians who were here first. Visitors can walk on mountain trails through the original California Palms for miles with no sign of human habitation in sight.

2010-02-21T07:05:00.000-08:00

The Tour de Palm Springs attracts many thousands of riders to the Coachella Valley for a weekend of exhibits, vendors, and a very scenic 100-mile bike race that goes through five cities. Marty trained for this century ride for over a month. Fortunately, she had come to know Nancy through the Desert Bike Club, which organizes rides every Saturday morning from Palm Desert. By mid-afternoon, she had met her goal and the 100 miles were behind her. Many riders came in later; few of them smiling.

2010-01-29T11:24:00.000-08:00

There is much to be said for flexibility. As we admired the early morning light Thursday (note the several feet of snow on the mountains), Marty suggested that we take a day off from the usual home school schedule and head for Joshua Tree National Park. So off we went to experience the high desert.

Many of the washes – the rivers of sand that become creek beds during rains—still had traces water and the cactus is starting to bloom. The park encompasses two distinct ecosystems representing both Mojave and Colorado desert; most of it is above 3,000 feet. So we took along warm clothes.

2010-01-20T16:29:00.000-08:00

Winter in the desert is sweet indeed. For most of the first two weeks, we had essentially cloudless skies, temps in the upper 70s, and little wind. Mornings and evenings were cooler, in the 40s, so only lunch was a patio meal. But for a family from central Maine, even being able to walk outside without watching for icy patches and slush is a bonus. This week is rainy and all meals are inside. But the rainbows are nice (viewed from our patio) and the clouds over the mountains fun to see.
Both Marty and Bob are running or biking daily and Julia has been riding her bike as well as her scooter. The pool and hot tub are also getting plenty of use.
The Coachella Valley is home to one of the largest wind farms in the U.S. Above is a shot from one of our hikes.

2010-01-06T19:28:00.000-08:00

The No ETA tour went back on the road after celebrating New Years Eve with Sue and Larry in Atlanta. Since January and February are difficult months for perambulation, we decided on a fixed-base strategy. Warm weather, of course, was a desideratum. And since the Coachella Valley of Southern California and Death Valley are essentially the only paces in the Western US with reliable daytime temps in the 70s, we went for the Valley. We have found a nice two-bedroom furnished condominium in Palm Desert, quite close to the best hiking and biking trails. Home schooling continues. But we have the added benefit of a large public library (and borrowing privileges) and even a YMCA home schoolers PE program twice a week. It is a nice change not to pack and unpack every few days and to be able leisurely to enjoy sampling a wide range of activities and cultural institutions. The photos show the car ready to depart Parker Head (in the rain) and the first afternoon in Palm Desert.

2009-12-12T15:27:00.000-08:00

The No ETA tour is on a two week recess. We are back in Maine for the holidays, which also include Art Lawrence's birthday and Andrew's college vacation. Readers of the blog are invited to check back early in January for an update on our doings. Until then, best wishes to all.

2009-12-07T18:42:00.000-08:00

Long distance car travel can be monotonous, it can be frustrating, but it always seems to produce surprises. Pictured above are several days' catch of roadside phenomena. Included are a concern in Holbrook, AZ which sells statures of dinos (and much else), a mighty fine donut shop in Gallup, NM, the Roger Miller museum (closed) from somewhere in Oklahoma, Buzzies Diner in Illinois, and two oddities from Amarillo, TX, including Cadillac Ranch, a cultural icon from the 1960s,

2009-12-07T17:56:00.000-08:00

Joshua Tree National Park is one of three public wilderness/recreation areas that border the Coachella Valley. The landscape here varies between low and high desert; much of the park is above 3,000 feet. Several of the valley springs are located within the Park. Pictured above is the natural vegetation of Cottonwood Spring, just as it has presumably been for many thousands of years (minus the guardrail). The iconic plant is of course the eponymous Joshua tree – a form of yucca. They grow to over 30 feet high. Also within the park are examples of monzogranite erosion that creates large piles of naked boulders without the more usual glacial activity that moves rocks into piles.

2009-12-05T08:47:00.000-08:00

We headed inland to the Coachella Valley, northeast of San Diego, to check out the claim that it has the ideal Southern California winter climate. The San Andreas Fault runs through the Valley. A series of surface water impoundments along its length gave rise to the distinctive palm oases that first attracted people here. Although Palm Springs is the best known of the so-called Desert Cities that grew up around the water, we stayed in the smaller Palm Desert (elevation 200 feet; population 49,000). Because the area boasts almost continual sunshine and mid-winter temperatures in the high 60s, it has became a golf and outdoor activity Mecca. One guidebook claims that here is the best winter hiking and mountain biking in the country.
The Living Desert Arboretum and Zoo collects and displays desert flora and fauna from arid regions worldwide. The Julia butterfly and the giraffe took highest honors for the day.

2009-12-03T21:24:00.000-08:00

Today we touched the Pacific Ocean at Long Beach, CA (above). We were reminded that the last seawater contact was on the north shore of Prince Edward Island, in September. According to Mapquest, a direct trip between there (Cavendish, PEI) and here (Long Beach) is 3,623 miles. Obviously we have been doing some zigging and zagging, since we have over 7,000 miles on the GPS. One of the highlights of our visit to the beach was the Aquarium of the Pacific. Touch pools are all the rage in these places, but AOP did the ultimate. In addition to the usual assortment of sea cucumbers, crabs, and sea stars to grab, they had sharks and rays in the touch pool! Admittedly, the sharks were small but the ray was full size – about the size of a single bed. And there were eight different varieties of sharks to rub. Sharks are smooth to the touch; rays are bumpy.

2009-12-03T20:58:00.000-08:00

After a week in Las Vegas and its incredible sprawl, it was a great relief to once again head into the desert. The trip from LV to Victorville, CA (just beyond Barstow) crosses the Mojave and reminds one of how arduous travel in these parts was before the speed and comfort of the modern auto. But enough of that; next stop—Disneyland!
Early December is off-season for Disney. The Anaheim area motels and restaurants are less than half full, and cheap room rates are the norm. We chose an older property one block from the main gate. In the summer or during school vacation weeks, the place is probably a nightmare; during our stay it was as quiet as could be. In the Magic Kingdom the lines were short and it was easy to move around. The only advantage of the slow periods, however, is the lack of crowds; prices in the theme parks do not change. Favorite ride: Pirates of the Caribbean.

2009-11-28T08:59:00.000-08:00

A continuing challenge for us while traveling is how to maintain an exercise schedule. What might be called basic exercise is easy enough – we hike when we can and walk fairly extensively while touring. But cardio fitness is something else again. Many of the motels have some sort of fitness equipment, often just an exerbike or treadmill in a small space, but at least functioning and available. A number of places have been pretty good outdoor running areas. Both Bob and Marty, for example, enjoyed running along the rim road at the Grand Canyon and on trails in the Mountain Park where we camped in Tucson. Las Vegas jogging, on the other hand, is more difficult. The city is not conducive to either walking or running, and many neighborhoods are sketchy at best. Lap swimming, which is one of Marty’s passions, requires an appropriate pool. She has found several community centers with excellent facilities and recently has used her YMCA membership to good use. Although we drove completely across Las Vegas to get there, a brand new Y was open the day after Thanksgiving for lap swimming.

Exercise is one more thing to try to fit into our daily schedule along with school work, taking advantage of local sights and experiences, and travel from here to there. We are learning how to adjust, balance, and compromise to try to achieve everyone’s desires. But the challenge remains.

2009-11-26T16:52:00.000-08:00

Although almost everything in Las Vegas is open on Thanksgiving, we decided to bypass the multi-course turkey dinners available at all of the high-end restaurants (e.g., $59.95 per person pre fixe at Wolfgang Pluck, not including beverages and gratuity) and have a non-traditional cookout at Redrocks Canyon. Our menu: hamburgers and veggie burgers, sweet potatoes on the grill, green beans with almonds, and pies from Whole Foods for dessert. It was a sunny, cloudless day in the upper 60s. At Willow Creek picnic area there were many other families and lots of kids with the same idea. Great fun. And wild burros.

2009-11-24T17:12:00.000-08:00

Las Vegas is our Thanksgiving destination. It offers reasonable hotel rates, easy air travel access, and proximity to world-class rock climbing. Since Andrew is spending his vacation with us, the last two of these were of great interest. As it happens, this is a low period in the convention business that is the principal engine of the Las Vegas economy. So all hotels are on sale this week. We choose a Residence Inn located in a quiet area off of the strip that offered a discounted 2-bedroom suite. And the place takes pets. All good.

Despite the hype, the heart of Las Vegas is not really kid friendly. The mega hotel/casinos along the strip are not set up for families. To get even to the ticket booth for Cirque de Soleil, for example, required us all to walk through a large smoke filled casino. Similar pathways go to the (very brief) free acts at Circus Circus. Even using the monorail requires casino travel because the station access is always through a casino. But away from all that, the city has a university, museums and parks, and looks like every other southwestern metro area with endless suburbs and their accompanying malls.

2009-11-23T08:37:00.000-08:00

Old Route 66 mostly was buried underneath Interstate 40 as it heads west across Arizona. But one section was left intact—the so-called Oatman road. Here twisting narrow two-lane runs through an otherwise barren desert with hairpin tours so sharp the speed limit often becomes 15 mph. Little wonder a better highway was eventually built. Oatman itself is an old mining town that lives on as a few shops and a saloon. And wild donkeys, left over from the glory days. First we saw the sign; just outside of Oatman we saw the donkeys. Of course we had to stop.

2009-11-23T08:22:00.001-08:00

Our final two days in Arizona were spent along the Colorado River at Cattail Cove State Park. Downstream 15 miles is Parker Dam, which created the massive storage system called Lake Havasu. The dam provides water and electricity for the Los Angeles area almost 300 miles away. So in a barren desert consisting mostly of gravel hills and canyons here is a watery lushness with deciduous trees and jet skis. Lake Havasu City lies 10 miles north with its London Bridge and endless condos. We were far enough away to have brilliant stars in the cool desert sky. We were also something of a curiosity being the lone tent among the RVs. But perhaps because we stood out, we found this to be the friendliest stopping point of our entire trip so far. Even the ducks made us welcome.

2009-11-18T18:48:00.000-08:00

We felt that we shouldn’t miss Prescott, AZ as we generally head west toward Las Vegas, where we will spend Thanksgiving week with Andrew. So from the desert we drove north back into the piney mountains. The town lies at 5000 feet in the midst of two national forests. Hiking/biking trails surround the city on all sides and the climate, although cooler than Tucson, easily supports year-round outdoor activity in the sunshine. The iconic Thumb Butte, above at sunset, is a great hike as we discovered yesterday. The greater community has three colleges, a VA hospital, and all of the usual retail big and small. In addition to Starbucks, free-standing and in several grocery stores, there are at least 10 other coffee places, including one combined with a laundry. Not bad for a population of 40,000.

2009-11-17T08:55:00.001-08:00

Chuck Cramer, a close friend of Marty’s Dad, invited us to the open house of the Tucson Soaring Club. Because of the landscape and desert thermals, this is a prime area for gliding. The club has 30 or so sailplanes, mostly owned by members, and the all-important tow plane, owned by the club. It was a busy place. Planes were taking off and landing ever few minutes and those fortunate enough to have reserved in advance were taken for rides in the two-seaters. These planes rise thousands of feet on the warm air currents and can travel for hundreds of miles. Great fun!

2009-11-17T07:45:00.001-08:00

Tucson is surrounded by wilderness areas, as well as regional, state, and national parks (actually one national park—Saguaro—but it has two discrete pieces to the west and east of the city). Within these areas are museums and visitor centers with up-to-date interactive displays that make learning fun. The Arizona Desert Museum is quite close to our campsite in the Saguaro forest. Here the full panoply of desert ecology is on display: geology, fauna and flora, water systems, mining history. There is even a special section devoted to the desert hummingbirds. And for an experience below ground, there is Karchner Cavern State Park. To visit here is to begin to understand how fragile cave systems are and to what lengths one must go to preserve them while still allowing tours. This incredible cave was kept secrete by its discoverers for 14 years until the State could guarantee that it would be developed with extreme sensitivity. Its beauty is now on display behind airlock doors and with precautions that extend to limiting the amount of lint that may enter from the clothing of visitors. But all of the restrictions were amply justified by the experience that unfolded as we walked along the path.

2009-11-16T19:22:00.000-08:00

Several readers of the blog have asked how the home schooling is going. Here is a progress report as we approach the end of our third month:

Julia’s school materials fit in a large plastic file box that we schlep into our room or campsite together with our luggage each time we check into a new place. Our standard daily routine puts off touring until the afternoon. We start schoolwork at breakfast around 7:30 AM and continue either in our room, campsite, picnic area, coffee place, or the local library until about 11:30 AM. If we have a full day of travel, we use the next Saturday or Sunday to make up the work not done. We are generally following the 6^th grade curriculum of the Bath Middle School using materials that her teachers gave us and trying to stay approximately on their schedule. We purchased our own texts and workbooks in Earth Science and in Geography to make those subjects more portable. We followed the 6^th grade social studies and science textbook selections of the Denver Public Schools because Denver, unlike most systems, lists the texts for each subject at each grade level. By happy coincidence, the Geography text began with chapters on Eastern Canada and on the US National Parks, so Julia has a firm foundation for some aspects of the current focus of our travel. In Earth Science she has been studying earthquakes, volcanoes, landforms, topography, and maps as well as plate techtonics, which have included the formation of the Rockies and Grand Canyon.

One of our challenges is keeping up with Julia’s reading. She will read two or three shorter books each week; longer books last longer. But this means constantly buying new books. We have become very adept at finding used bookstores and library book sales. Julia’s Grandfather gave a Kindle for her birthday; we have loaded a number of classics and she has read them as well. At the moment the Kindle is broken awaiting replacement. So more stacks of books in the back seat. In either case, each finished book is the subject of a written book summary and review. Other writing assignments have come from our travel – descriptive essays on particular features of places we have visited and a longer research report on the songbirds of this part of the Southwest that we have encountered. The other subjects – art and music – we have approached opportunistically. When art museums are near, we visit, take notes, do sketches. When we can hear live music we do. It seems that a lot of learning is going on, both from the school materials and from all of our experiences.

2009-11-14T10:24:00.001-08:00

Every American taxpayer should visit the 309th Aerospace Maintenance and Regeneration Group (AMARG) near the Pima Air and Space Museum in Tucson. Here are stored decommissioned military planes, approximately 2,500 of them at any given time. From huge cargo planes, B-52 bombers, to fleets of all sort of fighters and special mission aircraft, they sit row upon row in the desert sun. Most are wrapped up to prevent environmental damage; many of them could be flown back to service with a day or two of maintenance. We tried to do the math of how much money is sitting here on the ground – obviously many billions of dollars. We took a bus tour requiring all sorts of security just in case we had evil intent. But we only wished to learn more about how our money is spent.

2009-11-13T09:50:00.001-08:00

The drive from Flagstaff to the Tucson area took us through a variety of landscapes and an amazing 25-degree temperature increase. By the time we reached Saguaro National Park it was 91. Finally, T-shirt weather! We are camping in a cactus forest for a few days, learning about Sonoran Desert ecology and listening at night to various howls and grunts from the darkness.

2009-11-09T18:02:00.000-08:00

This blog prefers not to render adverse judgments, especially on entire communities. But the members of the tour were decidedly unimpressed with Sedona, AZ. Julia felt carsick as soon as we crossed the city limit. Marty got to the essence: “retail, retirees, and red sandstone!”

The red rock formations that surround the city are spectacular as was the drive through Oak Creek Canyon from Flagstaff, 35 miles to the north. And Bob liked the plentiful outside tables at the various coffee places, always a plus as far as he is concerned. But there is something entirely too self-congratulatory about this small place, which has seen a significant inflow of wealth in the past 15 years, but now has a serious housing crisis with new construction halted and a large inventory of unsold homes on the market. Can bus tours stopping on the way to Grand Canyon keep the place afloat?

2009-11-08T17:25:00.000-08:00

The ancient Hohokam and Sinagua built large pueblos as well as multistory cliff dwellings. The largest had over 100 rooms on five levels. Quite an engineering feat for stone age people. The ruins on three sites near Flagstaff partially tell the history of these cultures, but also leave many questions unanswered. At Montezuma Castle National Monument, for example, a massive cliff dwelling (above) was built next to a five-level pueblo on the valley floor. Why bother building into the cliff as difficult as this would be? And living in the cliffs wouldn’t have been any picnic either, constantly going up and down tall ladders and footholds cut into the rock. The biggest puzzle is why here, as in Mesa Verde to the north, by 1400 everyone seemingly walked away. The earliest Spanish explorers to the region over 100 years later described completely intact empty dwellings.

The southwestern climate has certainly helped preserve what the people left. At 7,000 feet (Flagstaff) it was very dry and in the low 60 degrees today; in the valley at 3,000 feet, where the cliff dwelling pictured is located, it was 78 degrees. Nice blue skies too.

2009-11-07T19:05:00.001-08:00

Drought and warring neighbors would be enough for any tribe, one might think, but there was worse! At some point around the year 1100, approximately the middle of the inhabitation period, a large volcano erupted a few miles from present day Flagstaff. The lava spread for miles; the ashes covered 800 square miles and created a number of cones that are still prominent in the landscape. Underneath all that are numerous pueblos and pit houses. The area is preserved as Sunshine Crater National Monument. We hiked a lesser cone to Lennox Crater and walked through one of the lava flows. Fortunately Julia was able to detail some of the standard features of volcanoes.

2009-11-07T11:15:00.000-08:00

We left our hotel at Grand Canyon with the idea of heading south, although we had no particular destination in mind. At what would be the final canyon overlook –Grandview trailhead—we met Greg climbing out with full pack and not really breathing very hard. Since this trail is said to be the steepest of all that go below the rim, he piqued our curiosity. So we welcomed the chance to give him a ride back to the Village area even though it meant backtracking 15 miles or so. He had completed a nine day hike in the inner canyon and would return for more next April. He is about Bob’s age.

With the morning going fast we decided to just go to Flagstaff and visit several local attractions over the weekend. The first of these was Walnut Canyon National Monument. Having already been to Mesa Verde and the Grand Canyon is a distinct advantage at Walnut. The small scale of the place has an intimate, very human feel. The cliff dwellings are modest as well, at most several rooms. The area was inhabited off and on for several hundred years and then abandoned at about the same time as Mesa Verde. Only a few others were on the main canyon trail; hence a much more peaceful place than the South Rim.

2009-11-05T06:37:00.001-08:00

A person might think that the Grand Canyon during the first days of November might be somewhat deserted. November, after all, is hardly a prime-touring month, until, perhaps, the final week, and even then most people who travel are heading to Granny’s not to a resort. But think again. All of the many hotels at the South Rim are full this weekend (the North Rim is closed) and for the rest of the month, with the exception of a few weekday nights. So we altered our rough plans to look around eastern Arizona and headed to the big ditch to secure one of the last remaining rooms for Tuesday through Friday. Since all of the visitor services are clustered together in Grand Canyon Village, there are many, many people here. Staying just on the rim, one is hard pressed to secure a quiet spot to meditate on the grandeur that meets one’s gaze. The answer is to head down one of the trails that go into the canyon. But this is reverse mountain climbing. The first part of such a hike is relatively easy – down, down, down. Next comes a nice lunch—if you brought one – and then, looking back up the trail, you see how you will spend the afternoon. It is a haggard bunch that emerges from the Canyon trails. They, and we, really earned the traditional ice cream.

Julia’s Earth Science studies of the movement of plates, the classification of rocks, and the rock cycle, nicely meshed with the various geological exhibits that we visited. The Canyon is about as fine a geology laboratory as exists anywhere and the Park Service has taken full advantage of the didactic opportunities. Se we tried to do so as well.

2009-11-03T18:38:00.000-08:00

Petrified Forest National Park is an easy drive from Durango that took us past Shiprock, NM—which always seem to be mentioned in Tony Hillerman novels—down the old stage road to Gallup and then across part of the remainder of Route 66 to the Park, which is just across the Arizona boarder. Here we found the Painted Desert, fabulous pictographs left in the 13th C. by he same Native American groups that lived in the Mesas to the north, and, of course, the petrified tree trunks that are randomly strewn across the prairie. Because this is a big park and we are in off-season, we were able to be quite alone out on these arid grasslands with nothing but the wind and these ancient relics of earlier times.

2009-11-03T18:21:00.000-08:00

Those who have seen the Dinsey/Pixar movie CARS (and everyone should see it) will recall that the town on the all but abandoned two-lane road was called Radiator Springs. It happens that the actual town of Holbrook, AZ was the model for Radiator Springs. And we stayed in one of the wigwams! At a local eatery the Pixar crew is fondly remembered. They spent several weeks being inspired by this most uninspiring way stop on the old Route 66. The concrete wigwam turned out to be surprisingly comfortable.

2009-11-01T17:48:00.000-08:00

The major issues of the last few days were what costume Julia would wear trick or treating and where, after all, we would be on Halloween. An interstate motel would not answer very well on either count. So we extended our stay in Durango for an extra day and after much discussion, Julia chose to be a cat with pink ears and tail, black shirt and pants, and a black mask, all of which paraphernalia was fortunately available at a single costume store in town. The yarn shop next to our bed and breakfast supplied the required large safety pin and a cotton gift bag for the treats (and even an initial Snickers to start things off on the right foot).

We are in the midst of the historical section of the city, with residential streets a few blocks away. So with hundreds of others we worked the lengths of 3^rd and 4^th Avenues and Julia collected her booty. Finally, the bag beginning to weigh down her arm, she announced that Halloween was over and we went back to our room to look over the results and sample where appropriate. Although far from home, Julia pronounced the event a success.

2009-10-31T09:13:00.001-07:00

Durango, CO, (elevation 6500 feet) lies in the southwest corner of the state near the San Juan Mountains and just on the edge of the Colorado Plateau. It is a tourist stop because of its proximity to Mesa Verde NP and Purgatory Ski Area, one of the great powder bowls of the west. Plus it is an outdoor haven for hikers, rock climbers, and mountain bike enthusiasts. Both Bob and Marty had visited Durango previously, but this is our first time here together. Even in the unseasonable cold and snow, it is an absolutely beautiful area, with mountains and mesas in the view from every point of the compass. Tourism has prompted the development of a lively downtown area and Fort Lewis College provides a cultural side to the city.

In the clear mountain air, snow melts, and actually sublimates, quickly once the storms pass and the sun returns. So 10 inches all but disappeared in a day, even though the daytime temperature never went above 35 degrees. On Saturday, our final day here, the temperatures will be in the high 50s. More normal for this time of year. Nevertheless we are heading for the lower elevations and balmier weather of New Mexico.

2009-10-29T19:41:00.000-07:00

Mesa Verde National Park preserves the cliff dwellings of the ancestors of the modern Pueblo Indians. There are said to be 4,000 archeological sites within the park boundaries, and many more such ruins throughout the Southwest. We toured the most accessible, Spruce Tree House, in the remnants of the big snow that swept the Rockies this week. Kivas are circular pits, 10 feet deep, cut into the rock and covered by a wooden ceiling and then a carefully fitted mortared stone roof that is level with the plazas that join the buildings in these small villages in the sides of the mesas. Although originally understood by archeologists to be solely for ceremonial uses by the men and boys of the village (sort of frat houses), new evidence suggests broader community uses especially in the colder months when these underground chambers would be the warmest areas available. So perhaps comfort trumped sexism, at least for part of the year. The distinctive pottery dates from about 1250 AD, just before these dwellings were abandoned somewhat abruptly due to a prolonged drought or hostile neighbors (or both). The structures sat for 600 years essentially undisturbed until some cowhands stumbled upon some of them in the late 1800s. Although serious looting reduced them until the Park Service stepped in, they are amazing places to visit, even on a wintry day.

2009-10-27T18:40:00.000-07:00

There are always surprises. In this case, when we arrived in Golden, CO (just west of Denver), near to where Joann lives, we immediately saw a sign announcing that Buffalo Bill’s grave was a nearby tourist attraction. Who knew? In one day we had driven the whole of Mr. Cody’s life--from North Platte, where he was born, to the place of his untimely death. And he is as commercialized in Golden as he is in Nebraska; somehow I think he would be pleased.

Our wonderful long weekend at Joann’s, with several trips to Boulder to spend time with Andrew, was marred only by an early cold front and accompanying snow. Not that snow in higher altitudes is totally unexpected at the end of October, but we were here to enjoy family members not wind chill. Nevertheless, the Rocky Mountains are beautiful this time of year.

Golden, itself, home of Coors and Colorado School of Mines is one of our very favorite communities. The river has a white water park; there are hiking and bike paths everywhere, and looming mountains and mesas. It also has a community recreation center that would be a major addition to any town. The center has huge exercise facilities and a lap pool and waterslide pool. For our friends in Maine who know the Bath YMCA – think times four.

2009-10-24T17:36:00.000-07:00

North Platte, Nebraska, turns out to have two major tourist attractions. It is the birthplace of William “Buffalo Bill” Cody, the great showman, who is responsible for much of the idealized view of the late 19 c. West in popular culture. It is also home to the largest train yard in the world. We took a pass on Bill, but went to see the trains. Over 150 freight trains rumble through North Platte each day. The yard, where trains are assembled and disassembled, has over 300 miles of track. As our guide told us: “Think what the Fed Ex sorting facility looks like, this is the sort for train cars.”

As we watched from the 8th-story of the observation tower, a coal train with 120 cars, each holding 100 tons, headed east while a container train headed west. As we headed west out of town ourselves, we took a small road that had a railroad crossing before joining the major highway. A freight train was stopped at the crossing and nothing moved for at least 15 minutes while we sat and waited. We finally decided to backtrack to a bridge, on the view that even the most efficient yard still has occasional delays.

2009-10-23T06:58:00.000-07:00

The mostly straight and flat interstate I-80 that crosses Nebraska has a speed limit of 75 mph, thus making this not only a fly over state, but, for most travelers, a zoom through state as well. We, on the other hand, decided that we would try to see something of the great grasslands –the soul of Nebraska – that make up almost a quarter of the state. So we detoured northwest on scenic Rt. 2 from Grand Island to Broken Arrow and then on to North Platte (back on the interstate) where we spent the night.

This is the Sandhill Region. Geologically it is a huge glacial sand deposit, which rises and falls in dunes and plains. Some places are open exposed sand, such as river banks, but mostly the sand is covered by a thin layer of soil that will support prairie grasses, but little else. We expected to be able to imagine vast herds of bison thundering across the swards of flowing grasses. However we encountered another immutable law of travel – things don’t work out as you had planned.

We left Omaha in driving rain and 40 degree temperature. Some members of the group wondered why we were going to tour on such a day, but the maxim: “Go in sun; go in rain” held sway. At Grand Island there were four inches of snow on the ground and the temperature was 32. We persisted. By the time we were 50 miles into the sand hills we could see snow covered dunes through the gloom but no grasses. Only corn, just like everywhere else in the state. So that thin layer of soil was being used for agriculture even though all of the guidebooks said that it was unsuitable. Bob blamed high fructose corn syrup production; this blog takes no position on the matter other than to note that he ranted on about its evils for some time. A file photo from further north in the state shows what we hoped to find.

2009-10-22T08:06:00.000-07:00

Amana, Iowa is the home of the eponymous appliance company; everyone knows that. But what we didn’t know is that Amana is also the site of one of the longest surviving 19th Centuryutopian communities – the Amana Colony. Founded by German immigrants in the 1850s, who had run out of land in New York State, this large settlement of more than 25,000 acres and seven villages, centered on a religion that emphasized simplicity, humility, and productive labor. The commune formally ended by mutual agreement in the 1930s due to a foundering economy and tensions among its members over administrative policy. They then adopted a clever market strategy, which severed the church from the economic aspects of the community and then put ownership of the principal assets, land and factories, into a joint stock corporation called the Amana Society, which still exists.

The villages today give tourists a glimpse of life in the colony and preserve its history. We spent a few hours in the main village of Amana. We picnicked next to the old railroad station in a quiet area. Surrounded by fields as far as the horizon and with only abandoned buildings near us, for a few minutes we were transported back in time to when this little place was the epicenter of the lives of its citizens, working from before dawn at the tasks of the community and gathering for common meals twice a day.

2009-10-21T18:23:00.000-07:00

We are on our way to the Denver area for the weekend, to meet up with Andrew as well as Bob’s sister-in-law Joann. So our time between Canton, MI and Boulder, CO is more limited than we would have preferred. The consequence is that many possible detours and site seeing opportunities have to be passed by. It is one of the immutable laws of travel that there is never enough time to do everything, but this week is even more constrained than usual. Nevertheless, even though we had to press on through western Michigan, Indiana, and Illinois, we became more expansive once we crossed the Mississippi River on the Iowa border. Suddenly we were in the center of the Quad Cities: Moline, Rock Island, Bettendorf, and Davenport. Serious river towns with grain elevators, river locks, and even casinos.

We stayed in Davenport on the Iowa side. Downtown is the Figge Art Museum in a wonderful modernist building and an interesting sky bridge. Otherwise, things are fairly quiet. Because Moline is the home of John Deere tractors, we ate dinner at the Iowa Machine Shed in order to thoroughly sample local fare (October is pork month).

2009-10-21T05:24:00.001-07:00

After leaving Toronto, we met Lauren and Daren at the Henry Ford Museum, in Dearborn, MI, on the way to their house in Canton. On such a nice day we chose to stay outside and tour Greenfield Village. The village is a large collection of houses and buildings that Ford collected because of their historical interest. Noah Webster’s home from Connecticut, Booker T. Washington boyhood cabin, the Wright Brothers bicycle shop, Robert Frost’s retreat, the Edison lab and machine shop, train stations, Model T garages, slave quarters from a Georgia Plantation, an early carousel, and many others, all were disassembled, loaded onto train cars and brought to Dearborn by Ford to be part of his living history site, which opened to much fanfare in 1929.

Ford in many of his activities was influenced by the work of the industrial engineer Frederick Winslow Taylor who conducted some of the early studies on manufacturing processes (so-called, scientific management). It was Taylor’s belief that there is only one “right way” to do anything. Ford transformed the automobile industry with his applications of these views, and in Greenfield Village, one can see him similarly at work with the way that history should be taught.

Since Lauren was on midsemester break, we used the opportunity while at her house to completely unload the car and sort through all of our gear and stuff, shipping a box home, drying out the damp tent, and generally getting ready for the next phase of our journey.

2009-10-19T12:51:00.000-07:00

Our week in Toronto was a mixture of business and touring. While Marty attended the AMOS annual meeting, Julia and Bob explored the city. Bob and Julia were able to have dinner with Bob’s sister Joan, and all of us were able to spend part of a lovely day with Chris, Lise, and Lucas, a Toronto family we met in St. Andrews last month.

Julia and Bob were able to append most of a day in each of the major Toronto museums, known as OSC (Ontario Science Centre), ROM (Royal Ontario Museum), and AGO (Art Gallery of Ontario). All city museums these days seem to have adopted three or four character names, like airports. Some of the highlights: The Body Worlds exhibit at OSC as well as the IMAX on the Colorado River and Grand Canyon, The Dead Sea Scrolls at ROM, and the Canadian Art, African Art, and Henry Moore sculpture collection at AGO. Both ROM and AGO have recently undergone major renovation and expansion. In the case of AGO, this encased the older classical building in a contemporary shell, with beautiful and large exhibit spaces on five floors. Pictured above is a glimpse of the new wooden floating staircase as seen from one of the original galleries.

All of these museums, as well as the McMichael Gallery just outside of the city, have put a great deal of effort into children’s’ programs. There are interactive guides, opportunities to sketch, lots of hands on exhibits, and even a mask making station (guess who) in the African section of AGO.

Toronto has become a city of immigrants and we explored some of the various neighborhoods and sections of the city. Signs in Indian, Chinese, Vietnamese, Portuguese, Arabic, Korean, Afghani and a number of other languages announce that a block or two, or much more, is largely populated by recently arrived peoples who are now making Toronto their home. The rapid expansion of Toronto and the consequent stresses on resources of all sorts was a major theme in an earlier chapter in Julia’s Geography Alive curriculum, so she was prepared to experience this grand diversity.

2009-10-15T17:46:00.000-07:00

After several days in the center of Toronto, Julia said that she wanted to go to the countryside. This created the perfect opportunity to go northwest of the city to the McMichael Gallery of Canadian Art, in Kleinburg, ON. This independent museum has a large holding of the Group of Seven – Canadian realist painters from the first half of the 20^th Century—as well as a collection of First Nations materials. The painting above is by Tom Thompson who was the mentor to several members of the Group and the small building is his studio, which was brought to the grounds. The day we visited the gallery sponsored a children and art exhibit that included opportunities to contribute stories and pictures to a notebook. Julia was an enthusiastic participant.

2009-10-14T08:47:00.001-07:00

Between Montreal and Toronto (where Marty has a conference this week), we decided to explore the Montebello region, an area to the north of the Ottawa River that is the country of the voyageurs. For two centuries after its initial exploration by Champlain in 1615, fur traders and missionaries traveled west from Quebec along this river to tap the indigenous wealth of the northlands, pelts and souls. Then came loggers and sportsmen. The hotel where we stayed is a legacy of this rich history. The Fairmont Montebello, originally a hunting and fishing preserve, is said to be the largest log hotel in the world. This is an impressive claim given the size of the old national park lodges in places such as Yellowstone. In any case, the place was full of families with kids, enjoying the Canadian Thanksgiving weekend in the woods, in “rustic elegance.”

2009-10-11T04:49:00.000-07:00

Montreal, where we have spent four days, is a UNESCO City of Design, one of six worldwide and the only such designated city in North America. It shows in the views from every street corner. There is an old section along the river, with narrow streets, and as the town rises to the heights of Port Royal Park, there is an amazing mix of neo-classical, beaux-arts, and modernist buildings every which way. And numerous large churches. The Museum of Art is two buildings that represent this mix – a classical pavilion from 1912 and, across the street (and connected underground), a modernist gallery designed by Moshe Safdie in 1991. In addition to walking around, camera in hand, looking up like the tourists we are, we also found a wonderful botanical garden containing The Insectarium (mostly dead) and the Montreal Science Museum, which is full of clever interactive exhibits on materials, design, and futuristic technology. Julia and Marty tried the brain wave contest that involves moving a small ball through a tube. Julia won.

2009-10-09T17:07:00.000-07:00

One of the advantages of No ETA travel is that it leaves room for serendipity. One morning we set out from Quebec City and headed west with no particular destination in mind. A sign soon appeared for Chemin du Roy (The King's Road), which as it turns out, is the oldest roadway in Canada. From 1737, it linked New France's three largest cities: Montréal, Trois-Rivières, and Québec City along the St. Lawrence. It was originally built 21 feet wide and pretty much has stayed that way. So like following a long driveway, we wound through fields, towns, housing developments, and shrines about half of its 160 kms. Meanwhile we would glimpse from time to time the divided highway that runs the same route, but without the history, and the turns. We felt very smug.

In Trois-Rivières we made the decision to head north to La Mauricie in the hope of finding a romantic cabin within the national park. At park headquarters they told us that no such accommodations are available off-season. It was camp or go elsewhere. And so it goes with us; each day develops its own themes as we try to take advantage of opportunities that crop up. Fortunately we had our tent and the weather held.

2009-10-09T04:27:00.000-07:00

La Mauricie National Park is northwest of Quebec City; not quite at the end of the road but it feels that way. For several days, we were part of a small band of late season campers enjoying wildlife, vistas and trails, and spectacular fall colors. The park occupies the boundary between the southern hardwood and northern spruce forests of Quebec and encompasses more than 150 lakes. No cell signal or internet connections here, so our postings are somewhat delayed.

2009-10-03T18:31:00.000-07:00

Quebec City conjures images of an old walled fortress town, European narrow streets, cafes with French spoken at every table by low BMI stylish types, and inexpensive wine. One forgets that it is a major port on the St. Lawrence Seaway. An intriguing destination plus a handy dock equals, voilà (as we say here), cruise ships! The Crown Princess and another were disgorging as we arrived for our look around. The walls and cafes are indeed in place, but those small streets were packed with people from Ohio (hey, nothing against Ohio) taking pictures of each other as huge tour buses passed by carting the less hardy to must-see sights. Not even the restaurant wait staff spoke French after the initial “Bonjour.” And with the taxes, the wine was pricey.

But the food was excellent and the architecture fabulous as was the Museum of Civilization, in a brand new building. And on the second day, although it rained, the ships’ passengers and their tour buses had left the usual throngs of tourists for us to walk with. Outside of the old city, life is more normally urban with trendy shops and smartly dressed locals.

2009-10-02T17:33:00.000-07:00

“That guy’s got Moxie!” was probably last written by Raymond Chandler, but this punchy now archaic characterization refers in two ways to our first day of travel as we now head west (well, north, and then west). First, Moxie, the canned soda, has a connection to Lisbon, ME, a few miles from home. The taste is carbonated cough medicine, so it is little wonder that its never large market share is now near zero. But a six-pack of the bright orange cans can still be had at a rickety store (and Moxie museum) on Main Street into which Andrew a few years ago walked and came back with an orange shirt with the Moxie logo above the pocket. Second, and most germane here, Moxie takes its name from Moxie Falls, 130 miles to the north along the Kennebec River corridor. We were heading to Quebec via Jackman, ME, and decided to make the side trip. The falls and gorge – one of the largest in New England – are but a .6-mile walk from a secondary road. Well worth a detour.

Although the hills and valleys are full of color in northern Maine and southern Quebec Province, the peak is actually past. Towns along the route are hunkering down; large woodpiles are in just about every yard. In Jackman, near the border, the tourists have stopped coming and they can’t wait for the first snow or two that will bring the snowmobilers and, then, later on, the ice fishermen. Despite meager snowfall elsewhere in the state, they get many feet and temperatures in the minus forties from time to time. A sign on a motel near where we stayed offered taxidermy services and game butchering in addition to free Wi Fi.

2009-09-20T06:06:00.000-07:00

After 4 days on Prince Edward Island, we began the the initial leg of what will eventually become the great Southwestern US National Park trip. We are stopping in Maine for approximately ten days for various commitments and appointments that could not be accommodated during the summer.

It turns out that Cavendish, on the northern PEI shore, where, by the way, the Green Gables house is located, is only 480 driving miles from our home in Parker Head (i.e., Phippsburg, ME). It seems a world away, and certainly not as close as, say, Atlantic City, NJ (which is 476 miles). Of course this is a matter of perception, involving issues of what is “close” these days and how different, really, Maritime Canadian culture is from the Northeastern US. We had plenty of time to reflect on these and other questions as we made our way from Cavendish to Charlottetown and its Arts Center, and then across the stunning 8 mile-long Confederation Bridge, ultimately to Moncton, New Brunswick, where we spent the night. Moncton is known for its Magnetic Hill – a quirk of terrain in which an apparent upward slope on a stretch of highway is actually a downward slope. So cars appear to be rolling uphill! This is the third most visited natural phenomenon in Canada according to a local press release.

The seven-hour drive from Moncton to Phippsburg takes one through dense spruce forest both in New Brunswick and northern Maine. It is hard to comprehend how much land is devoted to these forested areas – from the car they extend to the horizon in all directions. But, of course, there are towns, occasional farms, cell signals, and Tim Hortons. It is a not unrewarding drive.

Along the way we happened upon yet another great picnic spot, this time by Lepreau Falls in southern New Brunswick. Our standard pattern is to carry lunch ingredients in the car each day and to look for interesting places to stop. Often there is schoolwork left over from the morning that requires a picnic table and felicitous environs. And Baxter always is up for a walk. We have been fortunate to find nice places and to have great weather in which to enjoy them.

Since we have been traveling almost a month, we’ll put together some general thoughts on our experiences so far in our next post.

2009-09-16T08:48:00.000-07:00

Prince Edward Island, the third of the Maritime Provinces that we will visit on this trip, looks a lot like Ireland with trees. The same gently rolling green fields with distinct borders. The same predominance of dairy farming. The same rapidly changing weather as clouds move in from the Gulf of St. Lawrence and then pass over just as quickly. And similar long views of undeveloped coastline. An example of the weather – this morning the sky was very gray and threatening, with a sharp northern wind. So we packed the tent fairly quickly and got all the gear stowed in the car. Within 30 minutes it was raining. An hour later, blue sky: a definite Irish progression.

The island’s history is similar to the rest of the area. Initially temporary settlements were established by French fishermen in the 16th century and then, as part of New France, waves of Acadians came to farm. The English rousted many of these at the end of the Seven Years War, but unlike, say, New Brunswick, there were havens on the island and the Acadians never really left. So despite two name changes, first as St. John in place of Île Saint-Jean and then as Prince Edward Island, and massive waves of Loyalist and Scottish settlers, more French seems to be spoken here than elsewhere in the Maritimes.

Bob was last here 30 years ago. Since then the ferry from New Brunswick has been replaced by a spectacular bridge. The bridge has brought more tourists, especially more bus groups, and has made it much easier for trucks to supply the island. And so there are many more tourist attractions. Sears and Walmart are here. And Starbucks has opened in Charlottetown and will soon have a store in Summerside (the other city). Alas.

2009-09-14T03:48:00.000-07:00

Joe Delaney is a retired bus driver in Cheticamp, Cape Breton, who exemplifies the whimsical humor so characteristic of this part of Canada. This, after all, is a country happy to call two of its most common denominations of sovereign currency Loonies and Toonies. Joe, it seems, some years ago laid out a roadside garden and to deter various vegetable predators created three mannequin-like scarecrows, using his kids’ discarded Halloween masks and clothes from the thrift shop. Soon he noticed that tourist cars were stopping to take photos. So to capitalize on an obvious business opportunity he and his sister Ethel brought in a trailer the next summer and opened a snack bar and gift shop, surrounded by 20 or so of the same mannequins. And no garden. More people stopped and even tour buses. Summer after summer he continued to grow the display and now more than 100 scarecrows are part of Joe’s (and Ethel’s) establishment, one of the most popular photo ops on the Cabot Trail.

A little context may explain Joe’s success. For some reason, everyone thinks that the 120-mile Cabot drive should properly be done counter-clockwise. Joe’s genius, among other things, is to be located near the south end of the counter-clockwise scenic drive, just past that last cliff and breach and as the road turns boringly inland. By the time drivers and passengers get to Cheticamp, they are quite tired of the twisting roads and panoramic views. Even exquisite experiences of the majestic forces of nature pale after two or three hours in a bus or car. Enough mountains and sea; people are ready for Joe’s scarecrows.

Joe sets up his display in May. By the time we saw it in mid-September, the summer sun, rain, and wind had taken their toll. Halloween masks are really not made to be out in the weather for four months. They fade, they sag, they tear. They become actually weird. And this gives the extra soupcon of interest that keeps those cameras snapping. Joe estimates that 30,000 people may have stopped this year. Next summer Joe will be back with even more.

2009-09-12T16:08:00.000-07:00

Cape Breton Island constitutes the northern part of Nova Scotia. Much of it is a national park circumnavigated by a road called the Cabot Trail, after John Cabot, the 17th century Italian explorer who sailed under the English flag and was the first known European to land here. Since the Vikings got to Newfoundland, they probably were here as well, since it is only about 100 miles, but they left no trace.

The Cabot Trail transverses a series of mountains following the coast around the head of the island, giving a series of views of steep cliffs, hillsides, river valleys, and crashing surf on both the Atlantic and Gulf of St. Lawrence sides. Along the way are a few towns, mostly very small, that cater to tourists in summer and hunker down against the winds the rest of the year. Several harbors support a declining livelihood from fishing. Unlike the rest of Nova Scotia (oddly), the culture here is staunchly Scottish. There are tartans aplenty and Scottish burrs. And a Gaelic College. The people look like they were transported from Edinburgh or Inverness yesterday. Ruddy cheeks and sturdy shoes predominate. And fiddle music. And bagpipes.

The water is too cold for much of a beach culture even in the warmest months. So the usual tourist experience is to drive and gawk. There are bus groups, mostly seniors. We overheard conversations about heroic driving days over dinner at our Inn, one of those cabins-plus-a-main-dinning-room places.

The highlight, so far, in addition to the Dancing Goat Café, is the Alexander Graham Bell Historic Site and Museum. Bell, as it happened, had a second home here and spent a great deal of time advancing various projects during the summers and even occasional winters. He formed a group of young engineers in 1907 first to build kites, and then airplanes. He is considered the pioneer of Canadian aviation. Due to a lack of good communication, he knew little of the work of the Wright Brothers and essentially reinvented many aspects of powered flight. One of his group was John Curtis who would go on to become a major developer and manufacturer of planes in the US. He then turned his attention to boats and with a member of HD-4, pictured above) with foils that went 87 mph in 1911. The foils, which look like a rack of surfboards, are below the water and as speed increases lift the hull above the surface, allowing very fast speeds and a flat ride.

2009-09-12T15:28:00.000-07:00

2009-09-11T05:27:00.000-07:00

From Halifax we are bound for Cape Breton Island. The direct and fastest way requires driving back north almost to New Brunswick on a divided highway before crossing the causeway at Port Hastings. But a secondary road, Route 7, which runs along the shoreline east of Halifax beckoned us. It is irresistible on the map as it connects tiny coastal towns like Sheet Harbour, Marie Joseph, and Larrys River. Julia, who is learning map reading as part of her Geography study this year, traced the Marine Heritage Route (as it is called) and off we went.

Those of us who live in Maine commonly tell visitors to avoid Route 1 at all costs. It is crowded, commercialized, and doesn’t actually run along the ocean but for a few widely scattered glimpses here and there. This is not even a recent development—there is a famous essay by E.B. White from 50 years ago that lodges these same complaints about Route 1.

By contrast, this stretch of Route 7 is to be highly recommended. At almost every turn we passed a bay, the mouth of a river, a harbor, or a cove, with tree-studded islands, beaches, coastal rocks, picnic spots. The towns are mostly what Julia’s book calls political boundaries. We found exactly two stores and one gas station along the entire route. Now and then houses, the occasional church, boats on stands. And for the better part of a day, few other cars or trucks. Just blue sky, sparkling water, and a twisty two-lane road.

2009-09-10T16:23:00.001-07:00

We went to Halifax for haircuts and culture. The haircut issue was pressing; they should have been taken care of before we left two weeks ago. And a person is quite obviously not indifferent to where and by whom she has her hair cut. So internet advice was sought and a terrific place named Thumpers was chosen. Ideal location – close to a Just Us coffee shop (now holding 2nd place overall in North America, just trailing Jittery Joes in Athens, GA) and Bob’s new all-time favorite used bookstore. The bookstore, Doull Books, and its proprietor, John W. Doull, are right out of Dickens. A large, two-floor establishment with books piled and stacked to the lofty ceilings. An admonition on the door speaks harshly about the habit, universally practiced by patrons, of pulling books off shelves willy-nilly and leaving them on the floor. Mr. Doull spends his days near the door with mountains of books, classifying them in some arcane way, and making the occasional sale. Assistants, all in dark clothing, grab stacks and carry them off to the various sections (such as where I browsed on the upper floor: “German culture, Buddhism and theology, science and technology”). One could spend days in the place.

After a quick stop at the Art Gallery of Nova Scotia (for lunch), we spent much of the afternoon in the Discovery Centre, a children’s science museum. Essentially every exhibit is a hands-on, experiential learning opportunity. Among notable examples: a sprint course in which it possible to race a horse or Olympic sprinters over 15 yards (Julia and Bob both beat the horse), a Roman arch made of large carpet blocks so that transfer of forces can be understood, a 20 foot suspension bridge, the largest soap bubble apparatus anywhere.

Halifax has become a hip town due to its six colleges and universities plus lots of post-college young people who have gravitated to this harbor city. We found a vegan/gluten-free restaurant next to a yoga studio. Ommmmmmmmm.

2009-09-10T04:31:00.001-07:00

Nova Scotia was settled along its coasts, with little in the middle. Makes sense. The sea was a source of supplies and of income, especially in the days of the cod fishery. Our first stop on the Atlantic coast was Lunenburg, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. (We missed the sign for Joggins fossil cliffs, the other World Heritage Site. Oh well, maybe on the way back.)

Lunenburg was recognized for its well-preserved 18th Century buildings, built mostly by German immigrants, in the same wave that brought the Pennsylvania Dutch to the mid-Atlantic States. The beautiful harbor has a rich shipbuilding and fishing heritage. We especially liked the church architecture and the Aquarium and Maritime Museum, which has many hands-on exhibits. We toured two fishing vessels and talked extensively with a retired captain who had many stories. We have now seen large specimens of both sturgeon and cod and extensive material on sperm whaling --- three reasons the Atlantic coast was settled in the first place and now rare in these waters.

2009-09-09T03:52:00.001-07:00

The coast of New Brunswick might be called the Loyalist Trail, given all the attention on those fleeing the new American nation who settled the towns and cities along the west shore of the Bay of Fundy. The Nova Scotia side of the Bay, on the other hand, is the Acadian Trail. There is an Acadian National History site in Grand-Pre, with reconstructed church, interpretive center, and a great deal of material on Acadian culture prior to their expulsion in the mid-18th Century. And other towns along this part of Southern Nova Scotia reinforce the story (the coast route we followed for the past two days is called the Evangeline Trail, after the Longfellow poem). We learned about a clever Acadian technology that probably was a principal cause of their undoing. This coast is low lying and therefore inundated by salt water because of the Fundy tides. The Acadians settled in the salt marshes that no one else wanted and developed a system of earthen dykes and wooden sluices, with one-way flapper gates, that kept out the rising tides and on the ebb allowed the marshes to drain via the one-way gates (the photos show the seaward and landside of a reconstructed dike). Over time, the rain and snow washed out the leached salt in the soil creating a large area of very fertile fields that the Acadians planted. So the British had an economic reason to remove the Acadian population in addition to their national and sectarian enmity for anything French. Taking the Acadian highly productive lands would attract settlers, enlarge colonial trade, and remove the last vestiges of French culture from the North American coast.

The village of Annapolis Royal besides being picturesque has an excellent example of an 18th Century star fort with earthen fortifications. Originally built by the French, the British expanded it and renamed it Fort Anne (as well as renaming the city). Although very quiet now – we were the only visitors on Labour Day – it stands as a reminder of how keen both countries were to bring their rivalry to the New World.

2009-09-06T17:17:00.000-07:00

Fundy National Park is described by the New Brunswick Tourist Board as a small park with a very fragile eco-system. But to a visitor, the area is lush and vibrant. The epic tides of up to 48 feet make for vast beaches, and create significant coastal sculpture as the erosive effect of all that water surging and ebbing. We camped several nights at the edge of the park near the harbor town of Alma. At low tide the fishing boats sit in the mud, propped up by special stands that their crew insert as the tide goes out. To the east are the famous rock formations called the “flower pots.” During our visit, we encountered a dance troupe on the beach among the tourists using fabric wings to represent the forces of wind, water, sky, rock, sun, and ice in the constant changing of the Bay and its shore.

The Park area encompasses the Wolfe, Lower Salmon, and Upper Salmon Rivers, which flow into the Bay. All of them were home to significant logging and milling operations in the late 19th century as the red spruce stands along the Fundy coast were harvested. Docks at the mouths of the rivers allowed ships to be loaded (at high tide) for transport south. We came across one former site developed by the Pejepscot Lumber Company that shipped logs to its sawmills in Maine. It is hard to imagine that Maine logging one hundred years ago had to be supplemented by trees felled elsewhere, but here is yet another connection between our home state and New Brunswick.

2009-09-05T11:01:00.000-07:00

Shortly after leaving St. Andrews we began our drive east along the shore of the Bay of Fundy. St. John was the first stop. Once again, the local history involves Samuel de Champlain, who named it in 1604, and American loyalists at the conclusion of the Revolutionary War, who settled in significant numbers and saw to the incorporation of the city in 1783. Champlain, of course, claimed the whole area as part of New France. But as a result of the British victory in the Seven Years War in the 1760s (in North America, the French and Indian War), the English forcibly exiled most of the French, or Acadian, population. Those who ended up in the French colony of Louisiana became known as Cajuns; we hope to look into that area next month as we head for the Southwest. Some Acadian families were able to eventually return to the Maritimes and the fact that now all signs and notices are in French as well as English must be sweet revenge.

From St. John, we took a scenic byway called the Fundy Drive to St. Martins, which affords breathtaking views of cliffs and sea, and access to huge beaches. Julia is beginning to learn about igneous and sedimentary rocks. The beaches here are made up of both granite (igneous) and various sandstone and basalt (sedimentary) boulders and pebbles in the most amazing range of colors—white, yellow, blue, purple, red, green, grey, and black. What sand there is lies above the high tide mark and is reddish brown (essentially ground up granite and other rocks). Since we do a lot of beach combing we have had to impose a rule about not bringing more rocks and sea glass back to the car.

2009-09-01T08:25:00.000-07:00

St. Andrews, New Brunswick, and our home state, Maine are united in two chapters of North American history. At the end of the Revolutionary War, families who had remained loyal to the crown were essentially ostracized. Many New England loyalists made the difficult choice to move east to what are now the Canadian Maritime Provinces. A group of fishermen from Castine, Maine moved not only wives and children but also their houses to a peninsula in Passamaquoddy Bay and there founded what is now St. Andrews. Their white frame Cape Cod style homes are still visible along several streets on which we have walked. Maine at the time of the Revolution was part of Massachusetts and wouldn’t become a state until 1820 (as part of the Missouri Compromise). Even then, the northern boundaries with Canada were not of great concern (think trees!). But in the 1840s a dispute between land owners broke out that became rather grandly known as the Aroostook War. No lives were lost—it was mostly drunken brawls. The matter was settled by the Webster Ashburton Treaty of 1842, which finally fixed the borders of Maine as well as upper New York State. St. Andrews stayed in Canada by two miles.

High over the town looms the fading glory of the late 19th century Canadian Pacific Railroad resort hotel – the Algonquin –where we happen to have found a cut-rate deal for a few nights. The lawns provide nice vistas and many places to relax and for golfers there is a famous course on the property. St. Andrews, as Marty put it, is a beach town without tee shirts and taffy. Water Street has tea and coffee shops, several restaurants, and a few galleries. Primarily it looks like a really nice village Main Street. The residential area shares the quiet of the hotel grounds. In fact the loudest sounds we heard during our stay were from a lone bagpiper announcing the approach of dinner from the shuffleboard courts (in kilt, of course).

The Huntsman Marine Sciences Center is at the edge of town. Displays at their aquarium included a touch tide pool where Julia was able to study close up clams and scallops, as well as sea cucumbers and many types of crabs, sea stars, whelks, and periwinkles. With 26-foot tides, the beaches here are vast as the tide ebbs creating lots of places to explore.

2009-08-30T17:51:00.001-07:00

Across Frenchman’s Bay from Bar Harbor lies the Schoodic Peninsula, which contains the towns of Sorrento, Winter Harbor, and Prospect Harbor. All of them have experienced the gentrification that has so characterized Mt. Desert Island for the past century. Large second homes occupied for a few months by families from Boston, New York, and Philadelphia dominate the shoreline, with the locals living in more modest structures to the back. The “summer people” create a mini-culture in these areas that is superimposed onto the coastal Maine ethos. In Winter Harbor where we detoured for lunch from our drive along Rt. 1, we found a café with 10 kinds of gelato. Now “gelato” is not said much, if at all, in Lewiston/Auburn, or most other parts of Maine for that matter outside of Portland and Bangor, but in Winter Harbor, population less than 1,000, as in Bar Harbor, you can have your pick of flavors.

After passing Schoodic according to our guidebook you get to the real down east coastal Maine (the phrase “down east” by the way derives from the sailing directions from Boston – run down on a southwest wind, that is, heading directly east, along the coast). The tourists thin out, rocky headlands dominate instead of structures, the harbors, as above, are filled with working boats not yacht clubs and sailboats. The storied Rt. 1 can get downright lonely in stretches, even on a weekend in late August. There are many more trees, and bogs, and blueberry fields than towns, and cars, and people. Side trips are worthwhile. We cut off to visit Jonesport, a fishing town, and Quoddy Head State Park, near Lubec, which is the most easterly point on the US mainland. Julia is standing in front of the candy-stripped lighthouse that marks the spot. We stayed in Machias while Danny blew itself out and the next day also drove to Eastport. All of these places are just hanging on with fishing so meager in New England waters and the lobster fishery in crisis. Despite the awesome natural beauty, as one commentator quipped the economy of Washington County is so down that it has become essentially recession proof.

Julia has been using the opportunities of the large tides to look for snails and other critters in the pools along the shore every time we stop.

2009-08-29T15:34:00.001-07:00

First stop Bar Harbor, on Mt. Desert Island. We came here with Marty’s family: sister Sue, brother-in-law Larry, father Art, and his wife Sarah. The first two mornings dawned perfectly sunny, with endless blue skies. Exactly what we had really not seen much of in Maine all summer. The Bar Harbor Inn is right on the harbor and so over breakfast we watched the lobster boats heading out, fishing boats returning, and a few private yachts, some of them very large, bobbing at their moorings. By the third morning tropical storm Danny had begun to appear with significant wind and rain. The water now had whitecaps, the boats stayed in the harbor with a forecast of much worse to come, and we had to feel sorry for the couple in a nearby sailboat that was bucking and straining and on which sleep would not have been very restful.

The hiking on trails and strolling on carriage roads are some of the extraordinary opportunities of Acadia National Park, which covers much of the island. On a family carriage road walk, Larry, a professor in the forestry school at the University of Georgia, gave Julia, and the rest of us, a tutorial on tree identification so that she could answer one of her three questions (see below). With Larry’s valuable guidance, we also visited two of the gardens in Northeast Harbor open to the public – Asticou Garden and Thulia Garden --- both in full bloom.

The next day on a hike we came across a park ranger who answered the other two questions.
The final evening’s activity was Reel Pizza, a Bar Harbor movie house that serves food (guess!) while you watch. We saw the new Myazaki anime “Ponyo,” which is typically joyful and mysterious.

As a warm up to the official beginning of (home) school next week, Julia was given a research project consisting of three questions. Here are her answers:

1. Why are most of the coastal rocks on the island pink?
Because there is feldspar that mixes with the granite, making it pink.

2. What is the significance of the name of the island and who named it?
Samuel de Champlain was mapping the area in 1604 as part of the St. Croix settlement. He observed the barren-top mountains from what is now Frenchman’s Bay and recorded “isle mont dessert” in his journal. The name stuck.

3. How many trees on the island can you identify?
Cedar, spruce, white pine, moose maple, balsam fir, white birch yellow birch, red maple, hemlock, and pitch pine. Thank you, Uncle Larry!

2009-08-25T04:52:00.000-07:00

Thoughts on Traveling (before we actually go anywhere)

We have been talking about spending a chunk of time traveling for quite a while. Once this would have been a major sailboat cruise. Then we talked about buying an RV and traveling around the US, perhaps trying to visit all 56 national parks in one year. We were inspired by my brother Bill and sister-in-law Cathy's experiences in their RV as well as tales of similar families spending a year or more traveling (as examples see Rich Luhr’s blog at www.tour.airstreamlife.com or Bobby and Danine’s at www.ayearabout.wordpress.com; both couples have a daughter whom they home schooled while traveling).

Finally, however, we decided not to make any capital purchases. This would allow us to feel that we were not locked in to any specific forms of travel or destinations or even any specific duration. Our very rough calendar that includes Eastern Canada, national parks in the southwestern US, Hawaii and other parts of the Pacific, and southern Europe, is based on ideas we generated during the summer and some commitments that required at least one of us to be near home at several points. But nothing actually requires us to follow this plan. As we explained to Julia’s school, one of our reasons for wanting to follow their curriculum is that if we at some point decide to terminate the travel idea altogether, with some notice she could join her classmates and not be too far behind in at least most of her schoolwork. To further ensure flexibility, we decided not to rent out our house while we are away.

So we plan to use our existing car, pack tent and sleeping bags, and seek out inexpensive motels, hostels, bed and breakfasts, camping areas, as the situation warrants. We will spend more on average each day than we would if we were RVing, but we don’t have to pony up tens of thousands of dollars for a rig that we would only use, at most, for a year. And as soon as the RV was off the table, spending winter in the tropics and spring in Europe became feasible ideas.

There are many generic travel web sites, but I would mention “One World, One Bag” as particularly helpful in thinking about lightweight, relatively unencumbered travel, and Matt Gross’ blog on frugal travel for the New York Times.

2009-08-23T06:32:00.000-07:00

This blog will keep track of our adventures while traveling from late August 2009 to May 2010. We credit the name “No ETA” to Anthony Correa, a jewelry business owner in Edgecombe, Maine. His beautiful wooden sloop, NOETA, is often pictured in his catalogues. “Noeta” is also a Finish word meaning “blacken with soot” And it is the name of a company in RI. We plan to practice free form travel with a minimal of fixed itineraries and schedules, hence, in general, we will have No ETA.