I feel like a chapter in Canterbury Tales. The director of an episode. I have two characters, some dates, a route and a destination shrine in mind. It came to me in the night, as I mentioned, and I believe in those dreams before dawn.
We will cross New York State by the southern route. I remember Watkins Glen and Buttermilk Falls from my childhood and adult years, so we will see those on the way east. Then cut north, through the beautiful towns of my art show days. Another tour of Saratoga Performing Arts Center is on my list of musts. I hope the magnificent architecture is intact.
Lake Champlain can only be crossed the first time by ferry, so we will do that. Mother would be so pleased, and my passengers will be, too. Vermont is OK; I remember great shows at Manchester, the home of Robert Todd Lincoln. We need to drop way south and may do it that way.
Our middle destination is Portsmouth, New Hampshire. How I remember going with mom and her six grandchildren and the flapping chicken. One grandchild did not like lobster, but I cannot recall who it was. I remember taking a sightseeing boat out into the harbor and the ocean. The captain and the crew were distraught over hitting a lobster pot marker buoy. It seemed close to a criminal offense, in their panic.
The whole town of Portsmouth was a two day adventure, I recall. I also remember The Old Man of the Mountain, Franconia Notch, New Hampshire. But, the Old Man is gone now. Eons of weather sheared it from the mountain side. Probably no use trying to interest current teenagers in a memory half a century past.
I’m considering dropping way south to come home. Back in my day, all of New England oozed its history. I wonder if it does still, and would charm a modern teen. Concord to Lexington. Minute Men. I looked at a map to “re-locate” the route and thought it looked mighty similar to the Washington, DC beltway.
Then I remembered fourteen year old Caroline navigating me around with her GPS. Ruth reading off the route from Beth’s GPS on the way home. Laura and Victoria will do me equally as well. It’s just the details, now.
Beth and a Minute Man, 1976