Whirlwind of Wandering
You can’t take it with you so spend your money on experiences over sundries. Let’s wail through the east coast like a banshee on a bender.
It’s game time. We blasted through a multitude of states but did our best to pick up on the terroir.
A WHIRLING DERVISH
Did you know…
[they…] aim to reach the source of all perfection, or kamal. This is sought through abandoning one's nafs, ego or personal desires, by listening to the music, focusing on God, and spinning one's body in repetitive circles, which has been seen as a symbolic imitation of planets in the Solar System orbiting the sun.[1] - wikipedia
To call something a whirling dervish is to say that object or person resembles a spinning top or is wild in its movement. The story that I’m about to unfurl to you is wild in movement. New Hampshire, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Maryland and Virginia: We crossed more lines than a talk show hosts in search of ratings. We saw a state park high in The White Mountains. We gazed at Alexander Hamilton’s handy work. We settled the long debate as to which Philly cheesesteak is truly king. After gorging ourselves on meat, we indelibly delved into chocolate. What story wouldn’t be complete without a rendezvous to ravage freshly steamed crab? This story is not without that and soon you shall be informed of all of this via this episode of Leons’ Great Escape.
OUT OF PORTLAND, ME TO LAKE WINNIPESAUKEE
We wove our way from Portland, Maine to Turtle Kraal RV Park in Alton, New Hampshire. The distance wasn’t much more than 65 miles but the roads were sinuous. The miles were few and it would still take us hours to reach our destination.
This area of New Hampshire is buried in trees. Similar to upstate New York, it’s as if the earth is attempting to reclaim its natural state. Roads are well maintained here and some of the smoothest, albeit canopied, that we’ve ever seen.
Shibleys at the Pier: Order a lobster roll and the tuna. You can’t really go wrong.
Lake Winnipesaukee is the life blood of Alton, New Hampshire. It provides entertainment year round; ice fishing in the winter and sailing in the summer. Along one of the banks you can dine at Shibley’s at the Pier. They’re generous with the helping of lobster that they lob on a bun. It’s served up with charm as you take in the glisten off the wake of passing boats. Their Bloody Mary is an excellent counterpart but be careful not to imbibe too hard or you may end up like the gentleman that didn’t tie his vessel down properly and then had to take an ice bath to rescue the craft.
whoops, that wasn’t tied correctly.
THE OLD MAN OF THE MOUNTAIN
Yeah, it’s a little rickety but it does the job.
There once was a prominent figure pronounced in granite. The Old Man of the Mountain adorned the side of Cannon Mountain in Franconia Notch State Park for all recorded history up until May 3rd, 2003 when he fractured. This is where I should expound to loquacity about how fragile life is or on impermanence.
The Old Man of the Mountain — Credit: Jeffrey Joseph, public domain.
The old granite man is gone. Let’s pretend that I did expound and that you’re now in awe of my interlude. Notch State Park offers a gondola ride to a vantage point that allows the visitor to see all the way to Canada. They also boast that they have the most elevated bar in all of New Hampshire. We sampled some brown ale and a salt rimmed plastic cup containing a tequila beverage. Notch provides a short bit of hiking and some unforgettable views. This excursion was helmed by our darling, former disk jockey, Aunt Kim Dudzik. We dished about all the comings and goings of our trip and other whatnots. The Dudzik family is one that we don’t see often enough. A road trip like this provides irreplaceable moments such as the ones that we shared with them.
The view from the top of the observation tower at Notch State Park.
Aunt Kim, Candice and Pepper hold their own against the gusts of wind.
THE GARDEN STATE
Speaking of family, we were able to reunite with Anita and Tony Casertano in New Jersey. Like a first dance or a quinceañera the thrill of fried hotdog with brown meat gravy carves a deep groove in the cortex. Sense zero sarcasm here because there is nil. The Casertano’s took us to the guilty pleasure that is Libby’s. You want this.
We’d move on to see a city that is trying to find its way. Paterson, New Jersey was the brainchild of one Alexander Hamilton. Hamilton was an American statesman, politician, legal scholar, military commander, lawyer, banker and economist. He was one of the Founding Fathers of the United States. Back in 1775, you could be all of those things and no one batted an eye. Now we pigeon hole everyone such that you can only be one thing. God forbid if you want to be a doctor and an artist or a physicist and a violinist in 2019. This is sounding bitter and I digress.
A stoic Hamilton.
Hamilton saw the power of the falls here and leveraged them to great effect. Industrial power poured through the town and its coffers. This was a hub of innovation, prosperity and self-reliance but time is finicky and now it’s a bit dodgy. Loud bass thumps immodestly from rusted out beaters and the character rich buildings crumble. There are still good bones; you can see Manhattan from here. Soon enough, developers will have their way with Paterson. For now, it’s a hidden gem whose gleam takes a keen eye.
The Falls @ Paterson State Park.
They call it The Garden State and I’d, instead, call it death by trees. Are you sensing a theme? It’s lush in the Northeast. MTV gave me The Situation and the Jersey Shore. That is not what I saw. I did hear the trope clamor of chatty Jersey girls so at least that myth wasn’t dispelled. There is a refinement and class that New Jersey should get credit for but the crassest cohort seems to outshine when the media points its lens. That could just be the case for the garbage television that I watch.
BROTHERLY LOVE
Across the street from Betsy Ross’ place is a huge flag hanging from a fire escape. The flag that she created didn’t look anything like this.
This intersection is a madhouse.
I like Philadelphia better at night. Is that odd? The streets seem more aggravated when the sun is up. When the sun is down, the city comes alive in the best way. Liberty and the pursuit and defense of it is what makes this place tick — That and cheesesteaks. We prefer Carmen’s but in the arms race that is Gino’s vs Pat’s there is no question that Pat’s kicks the filling out of Gino’s.
We didn’t have much time in Philadelphia but we did see some quintessentials like the liberty bell and a giant statue of the patron saint Rocky Balboa.
Freedom!
Hersheypark Camping Resort is where we stayed in Hershey, PA.
MILTON S. HERSHEY
Hershey, PA is not very far from Philly and it’s where you can learn about Milton S. Hershey, an American chocolatier and icon. This town is his vision of a capitalist utopia and it’s really not half bad. It’s said that he learned from the mistakes of George Pullman and prioritized ownership and savings for his workers. Read placards about his life at The Hershey Story for $13.50 per person. It was enjoyable. The sipping chocolates that they offer, by the flight, in the cafe are even more enjoyable.
FREDERICK, MARYLAND AND FARM LIVING IN VIRGINIA
Water flows through the middle of Frederick, MD.
The buildings are so cute you could just eat em’.
Frederick, Maryland is where we found friends, craft beer and restaurants a plenty. Matt and Megan — we honestly can’t get enough of the Casertano Family — joined us for a romp around “Fred” and we painted that town. Brick lined streets and local businesses buzz in this affordable western Maryland city. Walk through a Wegmans and you’ll be jealous of the seafood that they can buy on a whim.
We were also lucky enough to meet up with their friends that own a farm in nearby Virginia. The farm has some beautiful acreage and a stone house originally constructed by Mennonites. The exclamation point to all of this was the steamed crab feast that we shared around a picnic bench before dusk.
Crab carnage.
WHAT NEXT?
We’re in North Carolina next and have high hopes for what they call The Research Triangle. The cities of Raleigh, Durham and Cary provide a southern tech scene, affordable housing and might be a fit for our permanent landing. Candice and I seemingly go in circles with what would be an ideal domicile. Unlike a whirling dervish, we don’t want to spin forever. Onward we go!
