I left on the ninth, the massive storm front that had just dumped 55 inches in Washington, DC only a mere few hundreds miles away and slowly making its way north. Despite the forecasts, I threw caution to the wind and hightailed it out of New York for a four day adventure in Beantown. There was not a cloud in the sky as I opted to take the scenic route through Rhode Island, and do some geocaching along the way. It would in fact be my first ever visit to the state too.

Oh wow... a rock...

Driving towards Newport, RI

Rhode Island was… blah. Although I drove through Newport where all the famous mansions were, Rhode Island didn’t really do anything for me. It just felt… blah. After a few hours of hunting down geocaches here and there, I decided I had seen enough of the state and continued northward. By the time I arrived at Boston it was around 3PM, the sky still as blue as the Caribbean ocean. I was about a day ahead of the storm, and I was determined to start checking out the city as soon as I settled into the hotel and stashed my car safely away at a nearby parking garage.

Boston!

I’m glad I picked the financial district too. It was immaculate, lightly crowded, and the T line was literally right outside the hotel. I bundled up and headed straight for the North End, cutting through Christopher Columbus Park and enjoying the splendid view of the harbor. Before I knew it, I was standing right outside Paul Revere’s House, amazed and awed that I was finding myself walking the same paths and traveling the same roads that so many famous men of history had once been on.

India? Fuhgetaboutit!

Still standing! Now where's my pizza??

Once the sun began to set, I decided it was time to see for myself if the Italian food here (namely the pizza) lived up to the hype. It was time for Santarpios Pizza!

Santarpios was located in East Boston, so I hitched a ride on the blue line over, and promptly got lost from there, even with my GPS. I had gotten out of the stop for Logan’s Airport, but once I got above ground all I saw were a maze of freeways and no clear way through. Santarpios was somewhere out there, but my GPS would not cooperate and insisted I had at least a 2 mile walk ahead of me. I wasn’t willing to do anything more than a half a mile, so next thing I knew I was hopping freeway barriers, dodging an insane amount of traffic moving at breakneck speed, and breathing in the toxic fumes of all the car exhausts before making it to the other side and hoofing it another few city blocks before I finally found the pizza joint.

Man this had BETTER be worth it. I walked in, asked for a booth and was promptly seated. My muscles were aching from climbing the freeway barriers, so I was glad to be able to stretch my legs and relax a bit.

Weird menu by the way. I had never seen one so brief it didn’t even have the option of ordering pizza by the slice. It included choices for the types of pizzas you wanted, and beverages. That was it.

I opted for extra cheese and sausage, and patiently waited. The pizza came after about 10 minutes and I was ready to dig in. I used a knife and fork to cut a piece and savored the moment before I took my first bite, indeed the first bite I would ever take of a pizza made in Boston. And the verdict was…

Meh.

Don’t get me wrong, it was good pizza, spicy and tasty, but there were no heavenly choirs singing, or psychedelic moments that took me to a different level of the astral plane. It was just modestly good pizza. Yes I am in fact a New York snob, deal with it.

I did note that it was so thin you couldn’t really eat a slice by hand, so I had to use a knife and fork for the most part. That’s just weird. It wasn’t until a few minutes when the crust began to harden again that I was able to fold up a slice and eat it by hand. I had another slice or two and then had them bag the rest. Good thing I had cash on me too, because they didn’t accept credit cards either.

Once my food was boxed and ready to go, I bundled up again and braced myself for the walk back to the T line. There had to be some better way to get to it, but rather than use my Garmin GPS, I went to Google Maps on my iPod this time. There appeared to be a park that separated the streets nearby from the T line, so I made a beeline straight for the park, initially discouraged to see that the gates were closed. Undeterred, I kept moving along the fence, until somehow, by the grace of God I was able to find the still open main entrance, which led directly to the subways. The park also afforded me an amazing view of Boston’s skyline in the distance, so I took a moment to take it all in, until I could hear the rumbling of the blue train nearby. I raced ahead and down the stairs, just in time to catch another ride back to the hotel, before the latest episode of Lost would start.

Returning from Wonderland: The Blue Train

After Lost ended, I was all settled in for my first night, enjoying the view of the buildings from the 7th floor, and anxious for tomorrow to begin so I could start my journey on the Freedom Trail. Outside, the city lights twinkled in a night that had been further darkened by a brewing storm.

A view from my hotel window.

Tags: boston, boulder, Christopher Columbus Park, driving, geocaching, gps, iPod, italian food, journey, new york, North End, Paul Revere, pizza, Rhode Island, skyline, storm, subway, travel
Categories: Lincoln's Personal Log
 
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While I was researching GPS devices to get for my car, I inadvertently came upon a wondrous thing called geocaching.

The idea behind it is pretty simple: use a GPS device to discover hidden caches around the world that were placed by geocaching enthusiasts. Once you find a geocache, you can sign the logbook to note that you were there, and also post a field note online to indicate your discovery of the cache, and your experiences in finding it too if you so desire. People also sometimes leave items that you can take with you, as long as you replace it with one of equal or greater value.

It’s the kind of hobby that for me would be an answer to prayer. It was becoming a ritual for me to spend my free time by either gluing myself to the Internet in the vain hope that I might finally get a tweet from some smoking hot virginal babe professing her undying love to me, or playing Nancy Drew mystery games and watching movies from Netflix while chowing down on Cheetos. I needed something that would put me out there and give me a reason to move around again, instead of just driving aimlessly around New York with a violent urge to mow down anyone who got in my way.

There were many fascinating geocaches in Lake Placid too, so much that I’m kicking myself for not finding out about it sooner while I was up there, but fortunately, there are tons of local caches in my area to choose from, and I decided my very first geocaching experience would involve finding one hidden in a lamp post somewhere in town.

So off I went for my very first geocaching hunt, and in the dark, cold, pouring rain too! Wheeeeeeeeeeeeee!

I arrived at the location, then followed the steps to locate the right lamp post. I had to take a certain number of steps in various directions to find the correct spot, akin to finding buried treasure, and I was exhilarated. Even the bad weather couldn’t bring me down.

Except, I couldn’t find the cache. I looked and looked, retraced my steps, looked again, and still could not find a thing. I ended up looking at each lamp post within a 100 yards of me in addition to the one that was SUPPOSED to hold the cache, and apparently I was getting noticed, as people were starting to stare at me in curiosity as they walked by. I looked up after feeling around under one lamp post to see one group walking by and eyeing me in suspicion.

“Don’t worry, I’m the lamp post inspector, just here to make sure these lights are all working smoothly.” I made a satisfactory gesture as I knocked on the lamp post. They continued walking on.

Where the crap was this @#$% thing already, son-of-a…

So then a police car pulls up near me.

Oh Lord, please don’t tell me these numbnuts actually called the cops on me…

But fortunately it kept moving on. Whoooooo… man, I really have had just about enough of cops getting all up in my space lately too. The last thing I needed was to get yet another stupid ticket, or worse, wind up in jail because I don’t know how to keep my mouth shut for nothing.

Finally, after 30 minutes of getting drenched in the rain and learning how to breathe again after the cop scare, I gave up. I’m convinced somebody had stolen this cache, and that’s what I’m gonna go with, especially considering people had been posting online that this was one of the easiest caches they ever found too, so I’ll insist that the cache was really stolen and not accept the possibility that it was right under my nose all along, and only schmucky idiot buffoons like me would be incapable of finding it.

Sigh.

Ah well, tomorrow’s another day. I’m planning to head down to South Street for a relaxing afternoon by the water, and supposedly there’s another cache right by the seaport that I can go look for. Yeah, we’ll see. I bet that’s probably long gone by now too.

Tags: driving, free time, geocache, geocaching, gps, hobby, lake placid, lamp post, new york, rain
Categories: Lincoln's Personal Log
 
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When I left last Tuesday, I only had a rough idea of where I’d be going. I knew I wanted to take a drive through Connecticut, Massachusetts, and Vermont, but other than that I was playing it by ear. I started out in Connecticut on Route 7, and boy I couldn’t leave that state fast enough. Shortly before reaching the Massachusetts border things finally started to look better, scenic wise, but the area had a “blahness” to it that left me with no desire to stick around.

Massachusetts was a completely different story. I entered via the Berkshires and was greeted by a picturesque view of autumn leaves and old fashioned buildings that made me think I had traveled back hundred years in time. I had originally planned to keep going on Route 7, but I got a call from Mumsy who suggested, “Hey, why not go to Yankee Candle Headquarters?”

I made a mad dash for the interstate, completely perplexed that I had to drive miles and miles just to find an entrance ramp to get on, but once I was on it the rest was smooth sailing to South Deersfield. I spent the rest of the afternoon ohhing and ahhing everything the store had to offer (pictures forthcoming in a future post,) then bought popcorn! And umm, maybe a hundred dollars worth of candles too. *ahem* But moving right along…

I was roughly somewhere in the middle of Massachusetts now, so I decided, best thing to do was go up 91 and then take the Mohawk Trail to Williamstown, where the Greylock Mountains were located. The scenery kept getting better and better, and in hindsight I probably should have stopped at a restaurant that overlooked a huge valley on the way, so high up was it that you forgot there was a ground underneath you. I need to go back there some day.

North Adams and Williamstown also turned out to be lovely, a place worthy of staying at again for a more conventionally planned trip. I stayed the night at a dinky place called Willows Motel, which had a 19 inch TV you had to squint at from your bed and free wifi, that is, assuming you brought a ten foot antenna with you to shove up blue sky’s butt in the vain hope that you might get a decent reception. All I can say is, thank God for Verizon. To top it off, there was no table either. I had to eat and use my laptop on a nightstand. Ah well, at least the room was clean.

The next morning I drove into Vermont and passed through Bennington, and I immediately decided this was another town worthy of a more extended visit. In fact I think that whole area from the Mohawk Trail to Bennington deserves another trip to for a more extended stay. There was just something about it all that appealed to me. Old style towns with a mountain backdrop, yet with a freshness and appeal that left a smile on my face. The only thing I didn’t like about the area was how close it was to Albany. Ew. Just knowing I was that close was enough to keep me driving.

Well that, and the unbelievably spectacular views I was being treated to as I continued traveling up Route 7. Vermont was absolutely gorgeous, the scenic drive alone was worth the trip. I finally landed in Rutland after an hour or so, but this time I decided I didn’t really like the area. It felt too… New Yorkish to me, even though Killington was just a hop away. I drove up Route 4 to Killington but again, it just seemed like there was nothing there for me. I realized this drive would have been more appropriate if I had been a skier or a winter sports enthusiast, but since I was neither, the only thing left to do was to stay at a resort with a breathtaking scenic view, and the only one I knew that fit the bill (The Cascades) had nothing available. Not feeling the magic, I decided to head back to Route 7 and continue up to Middlebury.

But once again Middlebury did nothing for me either. Seems Vermont is a great place to be until you actually stop driving. It could have been all psychological, or because I hadn’t planned beyond a simple drive here, but I definitely did not want to spend the night at a town that reminded me too much of home for some reason. I was also a mountain man, and because I was now out of the mountainous state park, there wasn’t enough of a backdrop to suit me, unlike Williamstown and North Adams back in Massachusetts.

So, what to do? I now had several options. I could keep going north to the Vermont capital Burlington, stay at a classy hotel for the night, then hop a ferry over to New York, and from there I could visit more familiar grounds, specifically Lake Placid, a favorite vacation spot of mine. Or, just continue north from Burlington and take the scenic byway Route 2, which would have seen me travel over several islands and bridges from Vermont to Plattsburgh NY, but God only knows what I was going to do from there. Or, I could turn back and drive instead to Ticonderoga, New York, another favorite area of mine, spend a night there, and maybe use that as a launching platform for daily trips into Vermont again, or again, just go from there to Lake Placid.

I ultimately opted to drive to Ticonderoga, and I’m glad I did. Route 125 proved to be the most scenic drives yet in Vermont, and I was driving during that part of day when the sun was just beginning to set. Some of my best pictures may in fact be from that particular drive. I drove over the bridge and stayed the night at a gorgeous Best Western.

One of the things about these kinds of trips was having to make snap decisions that I might wind up regretting. Where do I stay, where do I go, what do I do? I had to make these decisions on the fly, and as the day wore on, I had to make them quick, or wind up spending the night in my car or at a sleazy motel. I also wasn’t relaxing as much as I’d like because I was running around like a chicken without a head, exploring every area I could find. It was exciting, to be sure, but eventually you wind up needing a vacation just from the vacation itself.

After the night in Ticonderoga, I opted to go to Lake Placid, thinking maybe I made the wrong choice, but curiously enough, the bridge I went over closed the very next day. If I had stayed in Ticonderoga I wouldn’t have been able to go back into Vermont unless I took a ferry. Interesting how that played out.

By this time now I just wanted to relax. I wanted the mountains, a place to stay with a scenic view of the lake, a fireplace, and hot babes. Well, 3 out of 4 ain’t bad.

So now, after 5 days of my vacationing adventures so far, I think I’ve learned a few things:

The places I like to visit don’t really have that much to offer unless you’re an outdoorsy kind of person. Things like hiking and camping don’t really appeal to me, although I did try hiking once. ONCE.

I’ve never even skied either, though I do think I would enjoy the experience, especially snowmobiling and maybe a few other winter related activities.

These things always tend to be done in groups though, and I guess one of the reasons I’ve never done it is because I’d really feel the sting of being alone. I’d just watch as the whole world would walk around in pairs and groups while I’d stick out like a sore thumb, being the lone ranger that I am.

I’ve also noticed that I tend to go places when it’s offseason, which helps save on the costs and from dealing with the crowds, but it also means recreational places that would normally be open during peak season would not be available then, leaving me with even less options.

I also realize that because I’m traveling while its offseason, I haven’t had an issue with finding a place to stay with the hotels I’ve chosen, which I’m sure would not be the case if I had been traveling during a busier time of year. It’s something I’ll need to consider for the future.

All in all, I think the kind of vacation that would ultimately suit me is one that’s tailored for reclusive writers. Ever seen The Shining? Well think of me as a slightly less crazier version of Johnny. But it does seem to fit me, having a hotel all to myself, in a wintry wonderland, peacefully enjoying a warm fireplace as I typed merrily away on my laptop, which is in fact what I’m doing now.

I wonder if that’s my calling, to be a traveling kind of writer? That maybe the best kind of vacation for me is a recluse or a retreat somewhere where I can enjoy some peace and quiet, great food, a scenic view, and an ideal setting that would allow me a chance to really get my creative juices flowing. I’ve been googling around for online communities that might offer more information or even vacation packages with professional writers in mind. It might give me a better idea of how to plan for a future vacation, where to go and where I could ideally stay.

Speaking of my next vacation, that happens to be in just a few weeks, where I take a short trip to Lancaster, Pennsylvania to catch a bluegrass show. And eat melted pretzels at Sheetz!

Who knows, maybe I can find a sexy Amish girl there willing to give me wubsies and bake me pie.

Tags: autumn, Connecticut, drive, driving, fireplace, food, hotels, lake placid, Massachusetts, new york, recap, ticonderoga, time, travel, vacation, Vermont, writer, writing
Categories: Lincoln's Personal Log
 
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I’m on the last leg of my vacation trip, and finally have some time to sit down and reflect on my experiences so far, especially when it comes to blogging about it all.

Rather than use an iPhone (which are not hearing aid compatible and relies on the crappy AT&T network), I went with the next best thing, an iPod Touch that I tether to my PDA Phone using Verizon’s Broadband Connect. This way I have the advantage of using a faux iPhone on the Verizon network, as well as access to the Internet wherever I had a signal. I didn’t have to worry about motels or restaurants not offering wifi for my laptop either, since I could tether my laptop to my phone instead.

As far as connections go, Verizon gets an A here. There were times when I completely lost the signal, but I was so far high up in the mountains that it was to be expected. If I had to guess, I’d say I had a signal and access to the Internet virtually 99 percent of the time. Total WIN there. It makes liveblogging or livetweeting my experiences as they happen as easy as pie. Mmmmmm, pie…

Many of the apps on my iPod relies on geolocation to work ideally, especially Google Maps, and as long as I was in New York this wasn’t a problem. It was amazingly accurate in pegging my location, despite the fact that the iPod had no GPS chip.

That is, until I wound up in Massachusetts. Then the iPod went from thinking I was in Martha’s Vineyard, to thinking I was in Seattle.

Despite being unable to track me, I could still use Google Maps manually instead of having to rely on paper maps, except that it incessantly flashed popups telling me it could not locate me, even though I was not using the geolocation feature, and I couldn’t find any way to disable it either. I already know you can’t locate me, there’s no need to tell me that a hundred times a minute. Yeesh.

The net result of all this was a ton of wrong turns, missed exits, and complete absurdity when I came across a street in Google maps that simply did not exist in real life. FAIL

So it looks like I will have to supplement my iPod with a bonafide GPS device now. The TomTom is working on an iPod dock for the future, though I don’t know how reliable it will be, and I hear Garmin is better for the USA. A speakerphone would also be a bonus, as it would negate the need to get a headset (I’ve been thinking about getting one, but the only time I would really need it is for when I’m driving.) Something to research for the future, for sure. In the meantime, if any of you use GPS devices, I could use some advice on what you think worked the best.

Other than that, the iPod was very useful for finding points of interest, though it tended to be a hit or miss thing. Some things worth checking out wouldn’t be listed, so I always had the feeling that I was missing something right under my nose. As far as locating highly rated hotels in the area, the Simultravel app I was using for that gets an F for EPIC FAIL. It only listed a fraction of the hotels within the area I was in, making the effort of locating a good place to stay for the night on the fly a monumentally hair tearing experience. I ended up going back and forth from using Google Local to surfing TripAdvisor all on my iPod’s Safari browser, and since TripAdvisor is a slow and bloated site to begin with, just trying to find a place to stay on the go proved to be more ridiculously frustrating than it should have been. It wasn’t until I stumbled upon Hotels.com’s tailored made site for the iPhone that finding a place to stay finally became more of a pleasure than a horror. It’s how I found Best Western in Ticonderoga, New York, easily the best hotel I’ve stayed at by far, and while chatting with a friend on Google Talk on lodging ideas and checking my email, I booked a reservation there while I was pulled off the road somewhere south of Burlington, Vermont, doing it all on my iPod. Technology can be truly beautiful sometimes.

As for finding points of interest and dining, I used a combination of Yelp!, Where to? and Google Local to find places worthy of checking out. It made such an impromptu vacation as mine all the more pleasurable and easier to manage.

Finally, I noticed when entering a dining establishment that the first thing I would check for was an electrical outlet to plug my laptop in. LOL My laptop’s battery gives out after only 40 minutes, so it certainly does create a handicap when I’m lugging it around. That MacBook with its 7 hour long battery life can’t come soon enough for me.

As far as the digital/internet side of my vacation goes, I certainly learned a few things that will better prepare me for next time. Another thing I need to get a handle on is how to manage my blogging/social media time. I noticed I spent far too much time responding to tweets and comments when I should have been driving and getting to wherever I was getting. And once the day was spent, I found myself too exhausted to blog about the day’s events while it was still fresh on my mind. Ironically, when I finally had time to recap my vacation experiences so far, I ended up blogging about my third day of vacation, rather than the first day, so my chronology was all out of sorts. I was also using BrightKite to tweet/blog my latest movements, but I only used it intermittently, and there were times when it didn’t go through at all. It made for a disjointed way of getting the crux of my vacation experiences out there for all to read, but since this is all new to me, I’m sure I’ll eventually find my mojo and liveblog my experiences in a more consistent manner.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go light my fireplace.

Tags: battery, blogging, browser, driving, experiences, geolocation, google, google maps, gps, hotels, internet, iphone, ipod touch, laptop, new york, PDA, phone, social media, technology, travel, tweet, vacation, verizon, wifi
Categories: Lincoln's Personal Log
 
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I spent the night at Ticonderoga (home of Fort Ticonderoga) before deciding to head out to Lake Placid the next day. Vermont was gorgeous, but I couldn’t decide on any place to stay, so I went for the familiar and hopped back over to NY for the remainder of my trip. I got up, feeling refreshed and charged after staying a night at an awesome Best Western here, then decided to make a quick stop at Walmart (yes I’m ashamed of myself, but there was no Target nearby, so nyah.)

I walked in and checked the men’s section, deciding to check out the jeans and see if there might be one or two worth getting. I bent over to check the tags when

*RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP*

Did I say I might get jeans? Because I’m pretty sure I was gonna need a pair like, right now.

All I could do now was hold the shattered parts of my old jeans together with one hand and a new pair with the other as I waggled my way to the checkout lines as fast as I could. And of course, this would be one of those Walmarts that didn’t have self-checkouts either. FAIL. And, the express line was closed too. FAIL.

And now I’m stuck behind this woman who had literally, two carts, TWO carts worth of junk. Who does that? Still, I try to look as natural as possible even while I can feel the breeze go right through my undies, waiting for this land whale to finally check out her ten boxes of Ramen noodles and other assorted goods. Finally it was my turn. I quickly I paid up, then waggled as fast as I could to the car.

In hindsight, I probably should have just gone back into the store and changed in the fitting rooms, but this was not a day where logic prevailed.

I got in my car and drove around the back, figuring I could change in the backseat without anyone getting a peep show from me. So of course, as soon as I find a spot and park, a door to the building opens and out comes this woman who was probably on a cigarette break. She’s talking to someone behind her but she is looking right at my car and STARING. I figure I’d wait a minute or two to see if she’d go back in, but she didn’t and she never stopped staring either. I hadn’t even done anything yet, I was just parked. What is this lady’s problem??

I gave up and drove to the side of the building instead, and while I’m driving the woman actually walked out the door so she could continue staring as I drove away. Good grief. I parked next to a truck that was unoccupied, got into the backseat as fast as I could, then started changing. While I’m changing, all of a sudden the back of the truck opens all the way up and out comes this trucker, looking curiously at my car, and I’m wondering if he could see me (I had tinted windows, thank God.) Still, I finished changing, and opened the door to get out. Except… I couldn’t, because the child locks were engaged.

Why would I keep the child locks on? Why, WHY would I do that?? I sat there for a few minutes, wondering which way I should opt to crawl over so I could get out of the ride that had suddenly become my prison. I finally opted for the passenger seat, then grunted, jerked, banged my head on the rearview mirror, and wiggled my way over, before finally landing flat on my hiney as I opened the passenger door and free fell to the ground. Owie.

Mercifully, that was the end of it. I was now wearing my new pair of jeans and a new jacket (which I also bought) and feeling much better about things. I drove out and headed to a nearby ATM machine to get some cash (which charged me $2.75 for the convenience, what the flip!?!)

I then headed north, trying to put the unpleasantness of the morning behind me as I started taking in the views of Lake Champlain.

Then I passed by a state trooper. And sure enough I could see him in the rearview mirror as he screeched to a halt and made a quick u-turn. Oh no. No, no, no…

Well maybe he was going after someone else. Nope. I could see the lights go on and I sighed heavily as I pulled over. This was going to be one of those days.

“Can I see your license and registration please?” All business.

“Sure, here’s my registration, hold on I’ll get my license.” I pulled it out of my wallet.

“Do you know why I stopped you, sir?”

“Because I’m awesome?”

“No sir, you were speeding. The speed limit here is 45 and you were driving 15 miles above the limit.”

“Really? I was going that slow?”

“I noticed you had another ID card in your wallet. Can you show it to me?”

“Sure.” He had seen my work ID so I pulled it out and gave it to him.

“How long have you been working for this agency, sir?”

“About ten years.”

“Have you ever been pulled over or received a speeding ticket?”

“Been a while since I was pulled over, never received a speeding ticket. I never speed though, I just go faster sometimes.”

“I would like to verify this ID as well. Please wait in your car, sir, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

My humor was completely lost on him. He took my ID, probably to see if I did in fact work for THE MAN, and after a few lengthy minutes he got back out again. I could see he was holding a ticket.

You son of of a___

“Sir, instead of citing you for speeding, I will issue a parking citation. You will not have to worry about receiving any points on your license or having your license suspended as long as you pay the fine in time. Please fill out the form here and here, and mail it in, or you can stop in person if you so desire. Do you understand everything I’ve just explained to you?”

“Yes sir, thank you sir.”

“Have a nice day, and please drive safely.”

“Thank you, you’re not going to follow me now right?”

“…Do I have reason to?”

“Oh no no, in fact I’m right by Stewart’s here, I think I’ll go in for some coffee.”

“Have a nice day, sir.”

He finally drove off.

I looked the ticket over, and one thing bugged me: it had no fine amount listed, which made no sense to me. I was in town though, so I figured I could stop by and pay the fine in person, just to get it over with.

Despite having Google Maps on my iPod, (which was going on and off because the signal was weak here,) it took me 30 minutes of wrong turns and head banging to find this fricking building. I had this preconceived notion of what a court building should look like, so I certainly didn’t expect THIS:

Seriously?

I walked up to the door, which had a sign that said:

“Court temporarily moved to Town Supervisor and Clerk’s Office.”

Sigh.

I should have mailed it in, but I’m just not wired that way. I like to get things over with NOW instead of having something like this hanging over my head and ruining my vacation mood. So I pressed onward, and spent another 20 minutes looking for the Town Supervisor and Clerk’s office before finally locating it inside an RV park. Yes, seriously.

I walked up to the door and read another sign:

“Closed for lunch.”

You get it? The entire town government was closed for lunch. Really? Gads.

Lunch was close to over, so I decided to wait another few minutes, pondering over why this blasted ticket did not have a fine amount on it, and absolutely convinced that if I mailed it in they’d somehow lose it for sure. I was putting myself through this grief primarily because I didn’t know before then that the fine amount would be determined by the judge himself.

That’s not how we do things downtown though. Our traffic violations have fines that are predetermined by statute. When you get cited, the fine amount is clearly listed on the ticket itself, and you can just stop by in person or mail in the guilty verdict along with a check. Here I could mail a guilty plea, but there was no indication as to how much I needed to pay, which completely threw me.

It was after lunch now, so I went back and entered the “building,” which to me really looked more like an oversized trailer home.

I walked in and saw a pair of clerks chatting it up.

“Hey there, I just wanted to see where I could find out about paying a ticket?”

“Oh, you’re here for the court?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“I’m sorry, court doesn’t start until 4PM. If you want you could come back then.”

I just looked at her.

“Um, what? What kind of town court STARTS at 4 o’ clock in the afternoon??”

“That’s usually when session begins. Sorry.”

Sigh.

I got back to my car and thought about what I could do. I COULD let it go, but I’m too OCD for that, so I decided what I could do is drive to Lake Placid, check into my hotel, then drive back to the court, a round trip of 120 something miles. Yes, I’m an idiot.

So that’s what I did. I finally drove to Lake Placid and made it here at long last around 4PM, checked in, then cleaned my car out to get things ready for my quick trip back, this time using the interstate so I could make better time.

I tossed some of the trash in my car into the garbage can and walked out again, only to realize too late that I had just thrown my key card into the trash as well. I was now locked out of my hotel room, AND the building itself, because each door needed a key card to gain entrance. And I had to go to the bathroom too. Like, really badly.

Funny thing, this would be one of those buildings that didn’t have a lobby either, since it was a sister hotel that was now part of a bigger resort complex. So I’m frantically going around the building looking for an unlocked opening while doing the bathroom dance, trying to figure out what to do. Thankfully, somebody else had also checked in and were about to walk in, so I tried to be as nonchalant as I could as they opened up the door with their keycard and I walked up behind them. They held the door open for me, and I RACED back to my room like a bat out of hell itself.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh……………..

Finally, I went back to the trash can and started diving around for my key card, getting my arm soaked in day old coffee before finally locating the card. I went back to my room to clean myself up a little, then went off to start the drive back to the town that I was now swearing I would never drive through ever again, never ever, amen and amen.

After an hour and a half of intense driving, half terrified that I was going to get pulled over again, I finally made it into town, got out and quickly jogged into the building again. I noticed by now the RV park was hopping. There were trailers and RVs everywhere.

There was also now a line of people at the door, all waiting for their day in court I suppose, yet I couldn’t see anything that remotely passed for a court room. I did see the judge though, who looked like he had just gotten back from a day of working at the steel mills. The court clerk asked if she could help me.

“Yeah I’d like to see about paying this ticket.”

“Oh, well you’ll have to wait until the judge is ready to see you, though I don’t know how long that will be.”

“I can’t just pay the ticket now?”

“No, he has to see the case first, then he decides what the fine amount will be.”

“Seriously? Because where I live, the fines are predetermined. I’ve never heard of a judge determining traffic fines like this before.”

“Wow, that would make things a lot easier here.” She said this as if it were the most brilliant thing she had ever heard.

“So… what do I do then?”

“Well let me get your casefile. When did you get the ticket?”

“Today.”

“Oh… we’re not going to have the casefile then. It takes a few days before we get the next batch of caseloads from state police. I won’t be able to do anything for you until then.”

Sigh. “So, what do I do?”

“Well, you can sign a guilty plea now, and then when we get the casefile, the judge will set a fine and send you the bill by mail. Since you handed this in person, you just have to mail the payment.”

“Ok…” I signed the forms. “Thanks for your time.”

“Oh by the way,” she called out. “No personal checks! Has to be cashier checks or money orders!”

Good Lord. “Yes, ma’am.”

There was nothing left to do now but start the long drive back to Lake Placid. I drove in pitch blackness, half wondering if this day would end with me barreling into a stray moose or driving off a ledge somewhere, but fortunately, it seemed the worst was over. I got back to the hotel around 8PM completely exhausted, and thinking up creative, violent things I’d like to do to state troopers (even though the dweeb had done me a favor by only citing me for a non-moving violation.)

Yep, I think I’d just as soon pretend this day never happened.

Tags: car, clerk, driving, funny, government, lake placid, locked out, new york, pants, police, state police, ticket, ticonderoga, town, upstate, vacation, walmart
Categories: Lincoln's Personal Log
 
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So Sunday I crossed the entire breadth of Long Island under the reasonable assumption that if I just drove out east far enough, I would find a completely unobstructed view of the horizon for the harvest moon, as well as get some nice snapshots of the scenery. Under that logic I decided to drive, and drive, and drive, and drive, until I ended up at a place called Montauk, which is about as far east as you can possibly go in the entire state of New York before driving into the Atlantic Ocean.

The trip was nice, until it turned into one lane and I had drivers up my ying yang while the guy in front me of course has to drive 20 miles an hour, because what’s the hurry, really? So I’m feeling myself getting squeezed by tailgaters and slow pokes the whole last hour of driving before I finally and mercifully pulled into the town/village/hamlet(??) of Montauk.

Since I had a couple of hours to kill I decided to explore the area, beginning of course with:

Nothing says small town like a good old fashioned burger.

I walked in and the place looked like it was 100 years old. I placed an order for their specialty burger and watched as a few more people came in, still dressed in summer clothes, all of them barefoot.

Clearly there were hicks in New York too. I waited like 10 minutes for my burger, and when I finally got around to eating it, it tasted a bit… fishy to me. No, I mean it really had a fishy taste to it. Bleh. And I HATE seafood too.

Ah well, I made up for that by having pizza instead.

Californian pizza in New York? FAIL

I took a walk through town, not much to it really, just a few stores sprinkled here and there, though I did find an amusing junk store with these signs on the door:

Heh.

I could live in this store forever.

Also passed by a florist too:

Preeeeetty....

So prettttttyyy...

After walking around town a bit, I decided to chance a quick trip down to the harbor before going out to Montauk Point to set up my camera for the moonshot. As I pulled out, I saw this in my sideview mirror:

Thank you world for all these constant reminders that I'm single. Douche balls.

I found a beach that offered a vantage view of the channel boats navigate through in order to enter Lake Montauk, but the beach was infested with flies. I only managed to get two or three shots off before I decided to flee and get back onto the parking lot.

Why yes, the branch DID have carvings of stupid skanky teen couples professing their love for each other. OMG, can I fricking DIE now??

I didn’t take two steps onto the parking lot before I sprained my ankle and spiraled almost face first into the cement before finally catching myself. Oh my goodness. PAIN. I limped the rest of the way to my car and I just knew this day was going to get worse before it got better.

I could still walk though, albeit a bit tenderly, so I started to drive my way back to the state park about an hour before sunset. The water was really amazing. Everywhere you went you were surrounded by water:

Man, don't make any wrong turns here.

The park included the famous Montauk lighthouse, and after paying $6 for parking(??!?), I was finally able to take a photo of it for the first time:

Gee, it looked a lot bigger to me in the postcards...

That’s when I realized I had a problem. The lighthouse was closed at sunset, and the rest of the area was covered in shrubs and trees. It was almost worse than being in the city. I simply had no idea where to find an ideal spot so I could watch the moon rise. So I went up to the beach and started walking around the lighthouse, carrying my camera with the tripod attached. This is what constitutes a beach in this area by the way:

I'm supposed to walk on THIS?

And yep, while I was walking across, I sprained my ankle again. Not as bad as the first time, but just enough to aggravate me and remind me once again that I suck.

The fishermen apparently LOVE to fish in these areas though:

You'll never catch anything! NEVAH!! Ahhhhhahahahahah!

What the flips is this thing??

For some reason I actually thought there would be a manmade sidewalk because I could see a fence in the distance, so I continued trucking along, gingerly walking/limping over rocks until I finally found myself on a rocky ledge behind the lighthouse. Did I say sidewalk before? Well not quite:

You have GOT to be kidding me.

I was already halfway on this ledge before I realized there would in fact be no smooth-as-silk sidewalk waiting for me, and it actually would have been more dangerous for me to turn back since there was a bunch of snot nosed little turdlings that were hopping the rocks around me and blocking the way. I couldn’t believe how unsafe it was. One slip and your boom booms go bye bye as you plunge 30 odd feet to your certain death. On top of this there were fishermen all over these ledges, tossing back their fishing poles at random moments so that God forbid you had the misfortune of being behind them as the bait and line flew over you. Can you say fish food? Oy.

The sun was already beginning to set now, so I made my way through as fast as I could on this crazy obstacle course, with a twice sprained ankle and a camera + tripod leaning on my shoulder. Hop, hop, hop, hop, OW! *&^%, hop, hop, hop…

I finally made it off the ledge, which of course led to an area where I was now sandwiched between two small cliffs, obstructing my view even more. Sigh. There was an unpaved road that led upwards, so I rested a minute or two to catch my breath, than made my way up the road. I still could not see any moon, just shrubs and trees and cable wires and whatnot. I might as well have been in an Amazonian jungle. I walked and walked, the light of the sun slowly fading away, until I came across a gigantic pool of MUD that covered the entire road. There was absolutely no way around it.

Why, God, WHY?

I just stood for a few minutes and looked at it, before finally letting out my breath and deciding that it didn’t look too deep, so maybe if I just hugged the side enough my shoes wouldn’t go that deep into the mud.

So I got as close to the side as possible, then took my first step.

*SPLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH*

Oh Mommy. The pool of mud was like a foot deep. I was completely submerged up to my ankles. I groaned as I plopped through, one SPLOOOOSH at a time until I finally made my way past the pool.

Squish, squish, squish, squish. And then of course I sprained my ankle AGAIN, almost dropping my camera as I stumbled a few feet before catching myself. Man.

By this time, dusk had finally descended, and yes, of course, I still could not see the moon.

I finally gave up and squished back to my car. Before leaving I decided to see if I could get a glimpse of the moon and finally at long last I saw it, even though it was now past its harvest peak. Since I didn’t want to leave empty handed, I swung around and drove back into the park. I must have done several circles trying to find an ideal spot but I just could not find any, except for one spot that was already taken up by some dweebie photographer, and of course he has a girl with him sitting adoringly at his feet while the man gets himself the perfect moon shot. God in heaven, should have driven off the road so I could nail his bony little …

But anyhow, I decided to just go back into the parking lot and get whatever shots I could from there. This was one of the only moon shots I could manage:

Yes it's fuzzy. Yes it looks like the sun. But it's the moon, I assure you.

As for the rest of the photos, I used a bracketing technique on my camera to get shots with different exposures, then used a software program to merge them all together to create what’s called an HDR image. It’s not perfect, but overall, I guess I could have done far worse considering the day I was having.

Probably the best photo I took then.

The final result. Yes that's the moon, not the sun. Shut up already.

With night fully upon me now, it was time to take the long trip back home. I stopped by a Carvel since a day of having pizza and burgers simply cannot be complete unless it’s topped off with ice cream.

The Carvel was empty, so I walked inside an ordered a chocolate cone. Suddenly it was instantly filled up by 30 people. I’m not kidding, in the space of a minute, it was PACKED, including some weird looking elephant-man type dude who felt it necessary to stand two inches behind me while I was waiting for my order. Finally I looked back at him:

“Dude, seriously, a little space?”

He stepped back once, about 4 less steps than I would have liked. The crap was taking my ice cream so long?

Ah, here we go, sheesh. I grabbed my cone, licked and limped back to my car again, and steeled myself for the long, lonely drive back.

Maybe next year will be better.

Tags: beach, burgers, camera, clouds, couple, day trip, driving, flowers, harvest moon, ice cream, ledge, lighthouse, montauk, new york, ocean, photo, Photos, pizza, rocky, town, water
Categories: Lincoln's Personal Log
 
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