As much as I like to wing it when I’m out there on the road, there’s certainly room for just a wee bit of planning, I think.
So it’s like this: come late September I’ll land at the airport, then run through the place like Godzilla to the ocean after getting smacked around by King Kong, to wherever the SkyRide bus is before it makes its next run. The one I plan to take is called the AF bus, and for a mere $13 I can haul my wambos all the way downtown without having to front for a more expensive taxi. I’ll get off at the Market Street Station, which puts me right at 16th Street Mall, and from there I can either walk or take the free MallRide bus to my hotel to check in, or, to pick up my rental. The hotel is actually closer to the bus stop, so it might make more sense to go there to drop off my luggage first before heading out again to pick up the car. We’ll see.
Once I’m all settled in and I got my ride, I shall bask in the glory of knowing I am now 3,000 miles away from New York, in a state I have dreamt of visiting ever since I donned a Colorado Rockies t-shirt back in high school. And then I shall… err… um…
Hmmmmm.
You know, I’ve been traveling for a while now, and one thing I’ve learned from my experiences is that I don’t travel quite the way most other people do. I don’t drink for one thing, so I avoid the bar scene and anything else ensconced in alcohol. I’m also not into the night life either, so all these guides about the best raves or concerts or whatnot just goes right over my head. I tend to gravitate towards the historical instead: the museums, the parks, the gardens. The QUIET.
And of course, the pizza. Especially the pizza. And ice cream. But mostly pizza.
"Beau Jo's" by The PreppyDude (OH YEAH)
So it’s likely the first thing I’ll do is skip down to the capitol building and sit squarely on the 13th step so I can officially declare myself to be exactly one mile above sea level. Knowing I’ll be that far away from the humidity of sea level ALONE would be worth the trip.
From there, maybe a stop by Denver’s botanical gardens, or certainly a nice walk around the 16th Street Mall too, with a possible stop at the Tattered Cover bookstore. And maybe Larimer Square as well. I should have enough of the afternoon left to cover the LoDo district, and from there maybe explore the surrounding areas of Denver a bit before settling in for dinner, say, at the Buckhorn Exchange, Denver’s oldest restaurant. Or maybe Illegal Petes!
"The Mile High Steps" by jimmywayne
But you know what, just to be there would be enough. To breathe in the mountain air, spreading my arms out Jack Dawson style, closing my eyes and letting the warmth of the city envelope me… that would be enough.
And then lying in a comfy bed at the hotel, looking out the window to admire the city lights, and perhaps the mountains in the distance, knowing that out there, a 15 day, 2,500 miles journey awaits me. A journey that will change my life forever.
I can’t believe I only got 2 hours of sleep last night and still managed to stay awake for a 350 mile journey to Portland, Maine, and even got in an hour of sightseeing in Kennebunkport on top of that too.
Taken with my iPhone using HDR. Awesome.
I took a stroll in Kennebunkport’s Dock Square, saw the Bush Compound, had pizza (twice), took another stroll in downtown Portland, tried unsuccessfully to get into a beauty pageant at my hotel (while almost getting arrested for begging some of the contestants to go out with me,) and took a drive to see the wharfs before it got too dark.
Overall, quite a long day. :-D
Which way to my woman?
I was going full on manic using my brand new iPhone to take pictures, augmented reality to help me find pizza joints, and other funsie stuff that could have kept me occupied till kingdom come if I didn’t finally force myself to pocket the phone and head back to the hotel. After 300 miles and using the iPhone all day, the verdict is in: Verizon’s network performed spectacularly. I used bluetooth handsfree in my car, used Navigon to drive to my destination, Yelp to find POIs in town, and an HDR app to convert some of my iPhone pics into higher quality photos with better dynamic range, and then posting them online as fast as I was taking them. I was absolutely having a blast.
Note the Valentine special. FAIL
I’m not sure how it ended up that I would be sightseeing lighthouses and sniffing around for geocaches on Valentine’s Day though, but there it is. I wanted to completely ignore the holiday, but the beauty pageant kind of threw me for a loop, with some seriously gorgeous women walking around and rolling their eyes at me while I tried to roll the tongue back into my mouth. Eeeeeeesh. Seriously.
Why wouldn't they let me in?! WHYYYY??? WHY GOD WHYYYYYY???
Still, I need to soldier on. There’s plenty to see here in Maine, believe it or not, and I intend to make the best of it.
The view from my window here is spectacular by the way. While Portland doesn’t have modern skyscrapers and sprawling urban jungles like I’m typically used to, there’s something particularly inviting about this old city. I get the sense that the way Portland looks now is just the way it looked almost 100 years ago. Aside from some modern updates here and there, the buildings continue to defy the passage of time, retaining an old world appeal of generations long gone. It’s not Boston, but at the same time there’s an undercurrent of rich history here that draws me in just as much as Beantown does. Can’t wait to go out tomorrow and really soak in the local culture.
Every year around this time of year, I start getting gobs of traffic to my Anti-Valentine series of posts, in fact the kind of ridiculous traffic I only wish I could get every day. Because if I did, I could quit my job right now and book out of town faster than the Blues Brothers. Ahhhhhhh the irony, that the one day I hate more than anything also happens to be the same day I get the most traffic to my blog.
This time though, instead of wailing and moaning over Single Awareness Day, I have decided to celebrate this time of wubsie wubs instead. I’ve always been a romantic sap, and so what if I still haven’t met the girl of my dreams (and never will)? So what if I secretly pray every happy couple I see holding hands in the subway gets pushed in front of an oncoming train? So what if I hope every happily married couple out there dies in a violent fire, never to be heard from again? There’s a still a little room left in the cold cackles of my heart for luuuuuuUUuuUuuUrv. After all, why should I be deprived of screaming 80s ballads at the top of my lungs even if there’s no occasion for it? (A fun pastime by the way that’s second only to gouging on Taco Bell chalupas during a Psych marathon.)
Nup, this time I shall celebrate the season of love, and I can’t think of a better way to do that than a trip to Maine in February.
I actually leave on the 13th for Portland, and I figure with all the weather we’re getting I’ll be too busy freezing my gams off to get depressed about a stupid holiday. Even more fittingly, I booked a cottage at a bed and breakfast in New Hampshire right after Valentine’s Day when the prices quickly plummet, so after freezing my bazoonies in Portland, I’ll soon be soaking in a jacuzzi with a cottage all to myself, whaaAaAaaaaaat?
Who needs a woman when you’ve got a jacuzzi, pizza and a MacBook?
Bailey of Makeover Momma was visiting Manhattan today for a Redbook Magazine photoshoot, finally giving me the chance (and the excuse) to get back into Manhattan even after a series of brutal snowstorms kept me away. At least this time Mayor Blooming-Idiot-Berg managed to get enough of the snow plowed so I could zoom in by taking the train. I had checked the MTA for two days to make sure the tracks I wanted to use were still running on schedule, and fortunately there were no delays even on Thursday after the snowstorm flatulently dropped the big one on us the night before.
Neither rain nor sleet nor snow will keep me from the city!
I bought my ticket and got on one of the platform lifts, just in time to hear the announcement:
“The 9:39AM train is currently on time.”
Yay!
Five minutes later…
“The 9:39AM train is currently on time.”
Yay!
Five minutes later…
“The 9:39AM train is currently delayed.”
Ya – WTF?
Are you seriously kidding me? 10 minutes before the train is supposed to show up and only NOW it’s delayed?
I was about the jump on the tracks and tear my clothes off when the announcer updated again indicating my train would only be delayed 8 minutes. Oy.
It wouldn’t be a problem though, because poor Bailey had missed the first Bolt Bus she needed to be on, not because she was late mind you, but because it left EARLY. Like 15 fricking minutes early. The poor thing slipped and slided all over the ice trying to catch up to it but it was just too late.
Fortunately I had better luck, after the slight delay I was in Penn Station before I knew it. It never gets old coming here either. The ambiance of the bustling crowds, the aromas of coffee and tasty foods permeating the air while we scurried about like sewer rats was something I never grew tired of. Nearby a guitarist would jam like the Beatles while I checked my watch and made my way towards Sbarro.
Back in the city!
Bailey’s bus arrived an HOUR late, on top of missing the first one, but as harried as we both were, it was still so good to see her. I handed her a gluten-free bagel, then we quickly hopped the subway to Columbus Circle and got above ground again, but of course I wound up walking the wrong way before I realized my error and we turned around and eventually found the entrance to the Redbook building. Yet another reason why I need an iPhone.
Is that an angel I see? Why no, it's Bailey!
Once I was sure she could go up safely, I made my way back to Columbus Circle… only to be texted a few minutes later by Bailey letting me know that she was sadly too late for the photoshoot. :(
Permit me to rail against the cheesy lot of second hand electric donkey-bottom biting hag beasts that run Redbook Magazine. When you invite someone to be featured in your magazine with its huge circulation of 10-15 subscribers, it is incumbent upon you to at least offer paid transportation so she can actually get there on time. Or did you think a married woman of two kids could drop $500 plus change to fly to Manhattan while staying at the Marriott any old time she liked? Blimey.
On the upside, at least I now had my friend all to myself, so we made our way back down time to Washington Square to check out a cozy little gluten free restaurant called Risotteria, and had ourselves a blast. Bailey has Celiac Disease, which precludes her from being able to eat any kind of wheat, but I never personally realized how difficult it was to eat out while making sure to avoid anything that had gluten in it until I researched more about this disease.
So for her I decided I would spend one day completely gluten free, which wasn’t easy considering I had to wait in Sbarro of ALL places for Bailey’s bus to arrive. On one side were a delicious array of strombolis, pastas and pizzas, while the other side offered a hefty selection of delicious tasty gelatos. My Lord.
But now that we were at Risoterria we could both safely pig out like there was no tomorrow. We both ordered panini sandwiches and winkies while sampling the OMG-so-GOOD gluten-free breadstricks as well. Risotteria also has a small pastry section where you can purchase all sorts of delicious gluten-free pastries to go.
Bailey shows off a tasty plate of gluten free paninis. Mmm mmm MMM!
Since I’m a glutton for gluten, I’m able to contrast and compare the differences between the gluten free items we had and the real deal. The breadsticks were amazing, the paninis full of WIN, and even the winkies were tasty enough to eat. It definitely doesn’t compare to the original Twinkie, as I found it to be more stale tasting with a harder, more solid texture, but the creamy filling more than made up for it.
Does my winkie look big to you?
Our waitress was also as sweet as a soda pop, and all in all it was just an amazingly pleasant afternoon with a near and dear friend. Since Bailey and I are both hearing impaired, we practiced a little bit of sign language on each other, and also talked for a good long while about blogging, our families, our hopes and dreams, and the future.
After our lunch was over, we made our way back uptown and had a few minutes to spare before the next Bolt Bus left. I pointed the Empire State Building out to Bailey and also Madison Square Garden, then we went inside Borders Books where she kindly bought me a tasty cup of hot chocolate. :-D
Bailey posing with the Empire State Building in the background.
Bailey in front of Madison Square Garden. I'd take a photo of myself with her but then why ruin the picture? Tee hee.
But alas, 4PM had now arrived, and it was time for her to go home again. We hugged and I waited until she was safely on the bus, then made my way back to Penn Station to take the train back home.
Even though it was rush hour, the crowds seemed to slow down a beat, and once again a guitarist could be heard in the background, belting out a Journey tune.
“He took the midnight train, going anyyyywhereeeeee…”
I loved New Hampshire. As soon as I peeled off I-91 to finally enter the state, I knew I was in for something special. I never realized I-91 stayed within Vermont even though the border to New Hampshire was literally only yards away, and yet I hadn’t officially crossed over until the day was nearly spent. As twilight approached, the mountains loomed higher and larger than I’ve ever seen before, while wisps of snow twirled around on the roads and danced in the wind.
My iPod announces my arrival at Bethlehem. Heh.
I was now on Route 302, criss-crossing the White Mountain region in nearly pitch blackness as I made my way towards Jackson. I was worried about the road conditions but I sailed right on through without any issues, and after about an hour of mountain driving I arrived and checked into the resort with the temps at a balmy 2 degrees. Eeeesh.
Although oddly enough, it actually felt warmer here than it did back in New York earlier, where it was still in the 20s. Strange. but anyhoo, I settled into the condo, then promptly headed out again to explore Jackson.
A covered bridge marking the entrance to Jackson
Jackson itself has a business district that starts with a covered bridge, leading you into a loop around town where many bed and breakfast inns resided. Quite a few of them also had dining available to the public as well, but tonight I would indulge in the feasts offered by the local Shannon Door Pub, which was renowned for their good pizza. Of course, I being the disgusting New York snob that I was, scoffed at this claim and set out to prove them wrong. :-D
It was music night at the pub, the mellow sounds of a harmonica and guitar permeating the air as I sat and listened while waiting for my takeout. I wanted to stay, but I felt enormously out of place, being by myself and not knowing anyone here, so I was content to order the pub food and discreetly exit stage right, back to the resort and in front of my fireplace. I wish I could have stayed though.
Live music at the Shannon Door
As soon as I returned back at the ranch, I rearranged the furniture and sat down to have a taste of the pizza, and oh… my goodness. Somebody up here actually knows how to make pizza! I’m stunned! It didn’t have that New Yaaawky taste to it, but it was chewy, slightly spicy and very delicious. They only offer one size from what I could tell, a personal size about 12-14 inches in diameter, but I devoured the whole thing in no time.
Yep, New Hampshire was getting off to a great start. When the locals can please my taste buds with their pizza, you know the times are gonna be good.
After my pizza feast, I turned in for the night and woke up the next morning to a frigid icebox. My goodness. It was too cold to go geocaching, but perfect for indoor shopping, so I decided to use the occasion to get some tax-free shopping out of the way until the weather got warmer. I had breakfast at a place called Peach’s, which I found by sheer happenstance, and amazingly enough also turned out to be the number one rated breakfast place on TripAdvisor too.
I didn’t find the food exceptionally good though, but the mood and atmosphere of the restaurant was awesome. It was an ancient building that was as cozy and inviting as a bed and breakfast inn. You can sit in the back by the windows to enjoy a view of the forest next door, which I promptly did and treated myself to pancakes and eggs. The waitress was very cute too, but I couldn’t follow her speech pattern well enough to take a leap and ask her out. Sigh. I hate being hearing impaired sometimes. Although I’m sure she would have said no anyway and was just being friendly (I’m good at reading body language ya know.)
Breakfast at Peach's!
After pancakes I hit the outlets in North Conway, making sure to cover every store that was there. I expected the prices to be higher since there were no taxes, but I was surprised to see the prices were pretty much similar to back home. I ended up buying a Banana Republic scarf (originally priced at $40) for only $23, and a few other trinkets here and there for Christmas gifts. After the outlets I hit up a few other stores as well, including the nearby Christmas Loft, a retail store that reminded me of Yankee Candle with all the Christmas items they had on display, including a wintry village you could walk through while browsing for things to buy. Neat stuff!
It's Christmas every day here!
With the shopping finally done, I drove around Jackson for a while to figure out where to stop in for dinner, and finally decided on the Red Fox, a bar and grille restaurant similar to an Applebee’s or TGI Friday’s. They had three dining areas to choose from, so I chose the lounge and was brought to a nice corner booth that was furthest away from the bar. There was hardly anyone here since the restaurant had just opened, so I had arrived at just the right time. I ordered nachos for appetizers and a meatloaf sandwich. Just about everything is cooked over a woodfire grill, although I wasn’t aware of why this was such a selling point until my waitress brought the nachos:
Nachos from heaven. Mmm mmm mmm!
Oh my goodness gracious. Nachos that roasted on an open fire. And my word, they were the BEST nachos I have EVER had. Then came the meatloaf sandwich and I was in sheer heaven. Honestly, I never knew meatloaf or nachos could taste this good. This was definitely no Applebee’s.
Deep in the mountains, with single digit temps the norm, a cozy bar and grill, awesome food, and Christmas lights and decorations twinkling everywhere. There was truly no place I’d rather be. Most people prefer the summer, but I was definitely a winter man. As dark and cold as this time of year might be, it was also a time of twinkling lights, warm fireplaces, hot cocoa, and a landscape blanketed in snow. Forget palm trees and beaches. THIS is where I felt most at peace.
Eventually I had to drag myself away from the Red Fox, so I brown bagged what I didn’t finish and headed back to the resort. Night turned to morning again, the weather now much warmer, but not before leaving a light dusting of snow on the ground. Perfect weather for geocaching and a lazy drive around the mountains.
This time I had breakfast at a place called Glen Junction, another restaurant I picked completely at random. Their special today was pumpkin pancakes, so I treated myself to a stack and some home fries on the side. I barely had time to settle in after my order when the pancakes arrived. Already? Seriously, this was the third time in a row now where the food arrived stupidly fast. I could not believe how quick the service was around here.
And my God, the PANCAKES:
I can hear angels singing!
And I thought the pancakes I had back in Nashville were good. Nope, this stack of pure AWESOME eats it for breakfast (no pun intended.) At the risk of repeating myself, THE BEST pancakes I’ve ever had. It was topped in maple cream, then whip cream, with each bite the equivalent of a sugar-induced rave party going on inside your mouth. It took every ounce of restraint to keep myself from ordering two more dishes. Ay yi yi.
After inhaling everything on the plate, I sat back to digest a bit and watch the cute trains inside the restaurant as they quietly circled the room, Christmas decorations once again lavishly placed everywhere. I could have stayed in all day and relaxed, but I had a mountain to explore, so I gathered up my stuff and headed out, due north on Route 16 towards Mount Washington. As I drove I began to understand why this region was known as the White Mountains too. Typically most of the mountain tops are your standard gray or green (depending on how much tree covering there is), but there were one or two here that are completely covered in bright white snow. I had never seen anything like it.
A mountain top covered in pure white snow
Thick, billowing clouds covering some of the mountains here
I picked up a few geocaches along Route 16, until I arrived at the popular auto road for Mount Washington. Unfortunately it was closed for the season, and not even the Snow Coach tours were open. Ack.
FAIL
I was disappointed, but the views here were so magnificent that you could park just about anywhere and still enjoy watching the mountains and the snow put on a spectacular show. The Adirondacks were beginning to pale in comparison to what I was seeing here. I always thought I had to visit the Rockies to see mountains like this, but the White Mountain Forest region were as steep and majestic as you could possibly ask for here in New England.
I decided to keep going and do a complete loop around the White Mountains. I passed through Gorham, then turned left onto Route 2 and drove leisurely to Bethlehem. From there I entered I-93 and went south to Franconia and eventually Franconia Notch State Park. This was the site of the where the famous Old Man of The Mountain once used to be, before the rocks finally crumbled in 2003. Even without the famous landmark, the views here were spectacular, so much that I constantly stopped at turnoffs and circled back and forth just to take it all in.
Pulled to the side to take this quick shot
I’ve never skied before, but coming here and seeing all this now sparked a desire for me to give it a try in the near future. That and of course snowmobiling, which I would have done on this trip, but there just wasn’t enough snow yet to cover the trails. The upside though is that it gives me a reason to come back here in February.
After an hour or two of mountain peeping, I finally got back on the interstate and continued south to Lincoln. I had passed quite a few small towns in New Hampshire by now, but for some reason I liked Lincoln the best. Something about this particular town that offered just enough of civilization before getting TOO commercial, unlike North Conway. While stopping at a Mickie-Ds, I discovered a train just sitting there next to the parking lot near the Hobo Railroad:
Say cheeeeeeese!
From Lincoln I turned east again onto Route 112, which cuts through the White Mountains back to Conway. Plenty of turnoffs, parks and hiking trails could be found along the way, and because it was early in the season I practically had the roads to myself. I thought the Blue Ridge Parkway was nice, but Route 112 and 302 made the Blue Ridge look like a drive through Calcutta. It all seemed so mellow and serene, and the cars I did see would lazily move about, yet never so slow that I was on top of somebody’s bumper. It was bar none one of the most relaxing mountain drives I’ve ever taken.
Yes, I'll live here.
All in all I drove about 120 miles, and I could have easily done it again, but by this time it had gotten dark again, and I was ready for another good dose of mountain food. It was time… for BBQ.
BBQ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I stopped at the Hill’s Top BBQ just south of Jackson, walked in and was instantly greeted as if I were a long lost relative. The restaurant was cozy and lush with Christmas decor, each table having no less than 6 different bottles of sauce to choose from. Yep, I tried them all too. I had a platter of chicken tenders, wings, fries, pulled pork and potato salad, and Lord it was SO good.
After gouging myself in wings, I sat back and reflected on just how different things were here compared to home. I couldn’t get service this fast at a drive-thru, let alone a full fledged restaurant. And the people were extraordinarily friendly, so much that I found it almost unnerving. Even when I stopped for ice cream at a Dairy Queen, the DQ girl who took my order was ridiculously friendly.
“How are you today, sir?” She greeted me in an almost singsong voice. “Are you all bundled up and warm tonight?”
“Umm… Yeah… I’m doing good here…” I had to suppress my Brooklyn inclination to tell her, “WHATAYOUTHINK??” before grabbing my blizzard sundae and tossing change at her.
Yep, this New Yawker flatlander definitely isn’t used to this level of friendliness. You know, where people actually enjoy treating each other like human beings. :-D
After BBQ and another cozy evening by the fireplace, I would spend one more day here before returning home. I found just enough time in the morning to visit Jackson again while it was still snowing, driving through some of the residential areas and taking snapshots of some of the beautiful scenery here.
A wintry wonderland in Jackson
It’s funny, New Hampshire was never on my radar before, but after the past few days I’m kicking myself for not having visited here sooner. It was so tough to leave, but I promised myself I would return again this February, if only to go snowmobiling for a day.
On the way back home I took a little time to visit Concord and Manchester, nice little cities from what I could tell, but it occurred to me that without the mountains, this part of the state just didn’t do as much for me as Jackson and North Conway did. I arrived at New London in Connecticut and took the ferry back to Long Island. Flat, crowded, boring, hostile Long Island. Sigh.
I may be a resident of a flat and ugly island, but in my heart I will always be a man of the mountains.
Flickr Stream of Photos Taken During This Time Span
