Destination USA

FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS--VOLUME 2

FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS

VOLUME #2 OF QUERIES BOTH CREATED AND ANSWERED BY THE AUTHOR

Q. Why don’t you post to the blog more often?

A. The people who ask that question – and there are many of you – are those who have never attempted to deal with all the technology required to maintain a blog.  It’s not the writing of entries that takes the time, it’s the posting of entries, which includes uploading many pictures, editing the blog entry and most importantly, getting a satellite signal from Gus that is strong enough to do any of those things.  We were recently staying at my cousins’ house in

Chicago

that was completely WIFI.  He and his wife had five computers for four people, all of which were lightning fast as was the connection.  But that was a three-day period.  And when I did boot up the computer, it was for work rather than blog.

     Consider also, the amount of free time that is needed to blog.  I am amazed at the thousands who find the time to update their blog, whatever it may be, on daily basis.  Do they have a life?  And if so, is any of it spent away from their computer?  Decisions about how to spend your time must be made.  Do we take a day trip to the Black Hills of South Dakota (shortly on our agenda)… or do I sit in Gus and blog?  Uh… I wonder which to choose.

     Then, of course, there is that precious hour between 9:00 p.m. and 10:00 p.m. when Henry is peacefully sleeping.  Do I make love to my husband?  Watch an hour of T.V.?  Read my book (currently the horrific and eye-opening Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee in preparation for, again,

South Dakota

)?  Or do I blog?  Occasionally, when the satellite gets a strong enough connection, yes I blog.  But those other things are important as well.  I leave it to your imagination which is first on the list.

     So why do I not blog more often?  There are, quite simply, not enough hours in the day.

Q. How are you dealing with the price of gas? Is it affecting your itinerary?

A.  We are resigned to the fact that the price of gas is going to affect the cost of this trip.  And we are accepting of the fact that there is nothing we can do about, except travel less.  That is not an option, as it is completely contrary to the point of this trip.

     Fortunately, the cost of diesel has not risen as precipitously as the cost of unleaded.  Right now, diesel runs about $2.89 a gallon as opposed to the $2.49 it cost when we started in late August.  So it’s going to be about $50 more per tank to fill Gus.  The big hit is actually in the

Malibu

, which gets filled about one a week or more because of our frequent day trips.  That costs at an additional $15 to fill.  Between the two, we’re looking at, minimum, a few extra thousand in fuel beyond what we had estimated.   It hurts, but it’s not a fatal blow.  And though we’re on a budget, there’s no point in nickel and diming ourselves out of seeing what we want to see or doing what we want to do.  Perhaps we could have saved just a little by not ALL buying cowboy hats during yesterday’s trip to the Mall of America in

Bloomington

,

MI

– but Henry looks so adorable in his, I would rather take on an extra letter or two.

Q. What have been your favorite places so far?

A. What I have come to realize is that our best experiences are those in which all three of us are engaged and excited.  The most fun we can have is when everyone – Rick, Henry, and I – are sharing the joy of a new experience (or even an old experience that, because we three are sharing it, feels new again).

Niagara Falls

is the one Henry mentions most often. We entered the Falls on a bright, sunny day, got there early enough so there was no wait on the famous “Maid of the Mist.  And no matter how many times you may have seen it, the sight of this powerful wall of water magnificent.  The town of

Niagara

, on the other hand, is not.  It is a neon-lit, honky tonk wasteland and we were again fortunate in having chosen to stay at lovely Niagara-on-the-Lake on the Canadian side, just a few miles away by car but a world away in sophistication and beauty.  Our campsite, which was very Ma and Pa Kettle, was also right off the

Niagara Parkway

, a heavily wooded two lane road that wound around the lake and through

Niagara

wine country.  A trip to the fabulous Butterfly Conservatory surrounded by botanical gardens made our stay there complete.

Another perfect experience was the one day that we spend in the city of

Chicago

.  As any new visitor to the city must do (and both the boys were first-time tourists to the Windy City), we took a boat tour complete with fascinating tidbits of information such as the fact that the Chicago River has just been upgraded from “highly toxic” to merely “highly polluted.”  Architecture is the highlight of any trip to

Chicago

and it is very impressive.  Our boat dock was right near the construction of the new

Trump

Tower

but alas, no sign of the Trumpster or Bill Rancik.  Later, we strolled over the Grant Park and the new section known as

Millennium

Park

, containing sculptures, bridges, an entertainment complex, and two massive fountains that spit water.  Having been forewarned, we brought a bathing suit for Henry who, along with every other child in

Chicago

on this gorgeous day, played happily in the fountain for an hour. 

Chicago

truly is a world-class city with a great deal of open space.  And it made both Rick and I wonder, what the heck is wrong with

Boston

?  Why don’t we have open spaces where kids can splash on a sunny afternoon?  Why has all the new construction of the last two decades been so mundane?  Sure, we have the swan boats and they are charming, but we need more.  And we’re both hoping that the new Rose Kennedy gardens will arise to fill the gap.

One experience that I reveled in but did not mean as much to Rick or Henry was the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in

Cleveland

.  I think, to truly appreciate it, music has to have played a major part in your life, as it has in mine.  And in fact, as we were walking through, it felt as if my entire life flashed before my eyes, from the first album that I ever bought at the age of six (The Beatles Second Album) to the songs I most loved to dance to in my younger years (I’ll Be There, The Four Tops) to the music I chose to walk down the aisle to at the Little White Wedding Chapel in Las Vegas (You’re All I Need to Get By, Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell). 

There were concert costumes and ticket stubs, bits on music written on napkins and pieces of paper, guitars, and a very well done show about the inductees.  All in all, almost as much fun as rock and roll.

Q.  What are your greatest frustrations?

A. Trying to get Gus fixed when he breaks down is truly a challenge. 

The first time it happened, in

Canada

, we were able to get into a repair shop immediately, and left three hours later, $350 poorer but roadworthy.  The second time Gus needed some service was in the RV capital of the world,

Elkhart

,

Indiana

, where we could not book an appointment to save our lives.  A bitter irony, made even bitterer by the fact that, when we finally did get an appointment, it took two full days to take care of a few simple repairs.  Rick would not leave the service station for fear that, the moment he walked away, the work would come to a complete halt.  So we hung around feeling bored, frustrated, and helpless.

One of Rick’s frustrations is the lack of social contact.  We can go for days with no one to talk to but one another.  And for some reason that I can’t fathom, Rick just doesn’t think that’s enough!  I just turn to my book and am perfectly content.  But Rick can’t.  So he likes it best when we’re at campsites where people are friendly and willing to chat.

Henry’s greatest frustration, as I mentioned before, is lack of playmates.  He’ll meet kids briefly but then have to leave, and he finds that painful.

My greatest frustration is a longing to know more about the people in the places we’re visiting. 

When we were in Amish Country (

Shipshewana

,

Indiana

), I was desperate to know more about the lives of these righteous people – how they live with the temptations that surround them and maintain their values, what a typical day is like, what they allow into their lives and not allow.  And though we came into contact with a great many Amish people, no one seemed very willing to talk.  At one point, I even considered inviting myself into someone’s home but that was going a little too far… even for me! 

There are times when we’ll run into someone who seems happy to chat – a 42 year old waitress in Indiana who was pregnant at 18 and now had three grandchildren (clearly, her daughter followed the same pattern); Gloria, a Hispanic woman working in Western wear shop in the Mall of America who had moved from Texas to Minnesota; and others.  When I used to go overseas, some of my most exciting times are when I got to know the people who live in the countries I was visiting; I feel the same way here in the

United States

. 

See Spot Run

It looks like a joke.  It feels like a joke.  It should be a joke.   

It’s

Dog

Mountain

in

St. Johnsbury

,

VT

, the handiwork of Stephen Huneck, whose recovery from a near death experience inspired him to pay tribute to the species with an entire mountain dedicated to dogs and dogginess.

The centerpiece of the mountain is Dog Chapel, whose entrance is marked by an angel dog with about to take flight.  And that’s just the beginning.  The pews all feature dog heads on the ends, dog chairs, and stained glass windows.  The entryway contains thousands of messages and photos from dog lovers who want to pay tribute to the loss of their best friend. 

Outside, a sign invites “all breeds, all creeds, no dogmas allowed.”

The only thing that stops the chapel from being completely absurd is the talent of the artist.  He’s good, no doubt about it.  The word most frequently used to describe his artwork is “whimsical,” and it seems right that he has published a number of children’s books. 

His sculptures are cool.  The dog pond is lovely.  But does it seem a little over the top to spend so much effort creating a place where, as Huneck puts it,  “people can go and celebrate the spiritual bond" they have with their dogs?

Spiritual bond?  With your dog?  Aren’t those letters supposed to be transposed?

A great deal of time and money have been spent here on

Dog

Mountain

, not only by Stephen Huneck in erecting his masterpiece, but by the thousands who have made the pilgrimage to post heartfelt treatises about their eternal love for their pooch. 

I guess that means it's not a joke.  But it seems a little laughable to me.

Oui, Oui, Quebec

Rick was forced to eat a lot of crow – along with plenty of escargot, frites, and other Frenchified foods – during our stay in

Quebec City

.  He could only find one nasty man at the Ferry who bore out his theory that the Quebecois are rude. Otherwise, people were perfectly lovely to us, all speaking in English except for a few who couldn’t tell that my absurd attempt to bring back some high school French didn’t go beyond a few simple phrases.  Henry, as always, made a new friend, Jeremy, with whom he fed the birds and played Power Rangers during one outdoor meal.   Though they didn't share a common tongue, it does seem that children share the language of play which makes them able to relate in any situation.

It really is a taste of Europe in

North America

, with cobblestoned streets, soaring churches, large public squares, and excellent small restaurants.  A perfect place for a romantic rendezvous, which is why it is so popular for honeymooners (including that of Rick’s parents, Doris and Harold, oh so many years ago.) 

We wandered, we watched a street performer (Henry loved him because he set his butt on fire), we ate, we shopped (though alas, we did not buy), we had ourselves a fine time. 

FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS

Q. How can you all stand each other in such a confined space?

A. It can be, admittedly, difficult. But it’s possible. For example, on a rainy day like yesterday, one person can go out and do errands, leaving me and Henry in Gus to get on each other’s nerves. However, when it’s not raining, there’s a lot of open space and sky which opens up the terrain considerably.

Q. Does Henry miss his friends?

A. Yes, very at most campsites is extremely friendly and sociable. And Henry makes friends easily. All you have to do is say “hello” to a child and they’ll be over to visit. The other morning we had a six year old from a neighboring campsite and a French Canadian girl from next door all playing happily in Gus with Henry’s toys. On the other hand, it can be VERY difficult for Henry to say goodbye to his new-found friends. Hopefully, after a while, he’ll come to the realization that new friends are right around the corner – but he’s not there yet.

Q. How do you decide where to go?

A. By consensus – and by pressuring Rick to say “yes” even when he would rather not. After five days of utter relaxation on Prince Edward Island, we will be heading to Quebec City, a place that Rick definitely did not want to go. It may be un-PC, but as Rick says, he doesn’t like the Frenchies. He’s heard that they don’t like us much either. I have heard that Quebec City is absolutely gorgeous and I’ve never been there – a point of appeal for me. So we’re going. If we hate it, we’ll leave. If we love, we’ll stay for longer. That is the greatest flexibility of this kind of travel.

Q. What is the difference between traveling and vacationing?

A. Vacationing is when you let others do the work for you, because that is the very definition of a “vacation.” Traveling is work, though pleasant work. And compared to the kind of traveling that I was used to – bucket of bolt busses in Vietnam, overcrowded trains in India, chickens squawking on my lap in Indonesia – Gus the bus is the height of luxury.

Q. What is your itinerary?

A. Sketchy, at best. We have been up through Maine into the Atlantic Provinces and to Prince Edward Island, where we are right now. Tomorrow, we will head north through New Brunswick and into Quebec, stopping in Quebec City. Then we’ll head south again through Ontario, with definite stops in Niagara Falls (Rick and Henry have never been and Henry will love it) and then back into the U.S.A., where gas and butter are much cheaper than here in Canada.

Q. Is there a “theme” to this trip?

A. At first, I was sure there would be. I had lofty goals of seeing the strangest places in the United States – or the biggest, or the best. Rick’s goal was to hit every diner we passed. Henry’s was to go to every amusement park. But after a few weeks on the road, I believe that none of it will happen. And here’s why. It takes hours on the road just to get from place to place. After driving a 40 foot vehicle for 8 hours, none of us have the ambition to drive another two or three hours out of our way just the see the biggest plastic lobster on the East Coast. I know that a year seems like a huge amount of time, and that we should be able to take it easy, but we’re constrained by weather and by the enormous size of our great nation!

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Week One

The complaints are coming in fast and furious (that is to say, one) that we (that is to say, I) am not posting frequently enough about our Big Adventure.  It seems that some people need to be kept up to date on a daily basis about what we are doing.  And that is, quite simply, not going to happen.  Here’s why:

1)      Some days, like today, we do laundry. Anyone who wants to read about that is desperate for excitement.  That person is probably sitting at home watching paint dry.

2)      I have a four year old son.  Enough said.

3)      We have only been traveling for a week!  A little more time to get some adventures under our belt would not be amiss.

4)      In between adventures, I am working – which is, right now, the most difficult adjustment of this trip.  It is certainly not a vacation; not while I’m writing from the road and Rick is constantly making repairs and adjustments to Gus.  Not while we are on a budget meaning that a meal must be cooked at least twice a day, clothes must be washed and, God forbid, Gus must be cleaned.  I have picked up and used a vacuum more times in the last week than I have in the last ten years.

At the same time, we are certainly not at home, doing home-like stuff such as being on a schedule.  So what, exactly, is this trip?  And how do we truly relax?  That has been the greatest challenge thus far.  We’re all a little on edge, trying to adjust to a new way of life. 

And while week one has been great fun, relaxing it was not.  We have driven from

Boston

to Bar Harbor then up to

Annapolis Royal

,

Nova Scotia

, which is where we are now.  Both trips took nearly a full day, taking into account traffic and pee stops.  So two of the seven days were spent driving.  As I mentioned, one was spent doing laundry – four loads in the campsite laundromat. 

Rick has had two lobsters in

Bar Harbor

, and would have had one for every meal if that kind of expense weren’t in the budget.  One was purchased from a man and wife running a side of the road lobster stand which was open from 4:30 p.m. to 7:00 p.m. or whenever the spirit moves them (it said so on their sign).

Henry was on more boats in one day than he’s been in his life, being that going from Annapolis Royal to a whale watch on Brier Island included two five minute ferries each way.  The boat ride to see the whales was frigid and wet.  The sea was extremely choppy.  The sky was dark and threatening. 

And we all had an awesome time.  We probably saw the same two humpback whales for the entire three hour trip, but it just didn’t matter.  Watching anxiously for a little grey fin to appear out of the water, never knowing if it was going to be ten feet or 100 feet away was tremendously exciting – and sometimes, when the whale was very close, reminiscent of the scene in “Jaws” where Roy Schieder is scooping chum.  Henry was incredibly enthusiastic, and had no problem patiently waiting for ten or 15 minutes for the whales to resurface.  He should be so patient when waiting for a glass of apple juice.

He’s also been very excited by all the lighthouses.  I believe he’s attracted the romance, and perhaps by the fact that they are so easily recognizable.

He also loved

Cadillac

Mountain

at

Acadia

National Park

, where we were all challenged by fierce winds, which only made the experience all the more entertaining.  We used our

National

Parks

Pass

for the first time, which, for anyone planning a trip to even two or three National Parks, is the greatest deal known to mankind.  A $50 pass gets a family into any park for a year!  For a Jewish family from

Boston

, it is nirvana.

From here, we head to

Halifax

, the capital city of

Nova Scotia

, and then onto to

Prince Edward Island

.  I pray that my projects will be completed so I can, for the first time on this trip, truly relax.  But then I’ll be worry that I’m not earning enough to pay for the big trip.  I guess you just can’t win!

Will We Need a Referee?

 

 

With barely a month to go before we set off on our big adventure, the personal “civil war” between my husband and I has begun.

 

“Honey, can I meet Cyber [an RVnet buddy and organizer of the Gettysburg Rally we attended in May] in Verona, Ontario to go fishing?” he asked, all wide-eyed and innocent.

 

“Where is Verona, Ontario?" I asked suspiciously.  He wasn't sure, he replied, but it couldn’t be too far off course.

 

A few clicks on the laptop and we learned that Verona, Ontario is just north of Toronto. Since our route in August was to take us north to Bar Harbor, Maine;  up through Nova Scotia to Prince Edward Island; back down through New Brunswick to  Quebec City then down to Toronto, yes, Verona certainly was enroute.

But it seemed to at first glance that it was just too far to go in a mere 12 days.

“It’s got be 1500 miles!” I shrieked.

 

Oh, never, said Rick, shaking his head. Can’t be that far. Not even close. Maybe 900 miles, at the most.

 

Once again, a few clicks on Mapquest gave us the answer.

 

It was approximately 600 miles from Boston to Charlottetown, PEI and 915 miles from Charlottetown to the by now notorious Verona, Ontario.

Still, my husband insisted that it wouldn’t be that big a deal to get there. I did some calculations – at 40 miles an hour, it would take 37.5 hours of driving.

 

Rick insisted I recalculate it at 50 miles per hour. “Do we get to stop to pee?” I asked.

 

Our sketchy itinerary gave us approximately a month to cover the same amount of ground. Rick has his fishing rod at the ready, but needless to say, he won’t be using it in Verona, Ontario.

Sorry, Cyber.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gettysburg

Call me an idiot – which would be perfectly fair when it comes to U.S. history. Though I’m sure it was taught to me in school, I breezed right past it, far more interested in other subjects. As an adult, I found that I learned most of my history by traveling. But given my propensity to leave this country for foreign lands, I probably know far more European and Asian history than I do American.

 
So you can imagine my surprise… and my dismay… when we toured Gettysburg, site of the largest and most violent battle ever on U.S. soil. It wasn’t the monuments, or the large expanse of rolling hills that captured my imagination.

 
What got me and stuck with me was the when our tour guide told us that some of the battles on this hallowed ground took place at approximately 20 paces… more than close enough to see your enemy’s face and feel the warmth of his blood.

It is estimated that approximately 51,000 soldiers died in the three day battle, some killed directly, others from wounds inflicted during fighting. That figure is just seven thousand shy of the number of casualties during the Vietnam War.

With a good tour guide and a little imagination, you can close your eyes and see that bloodshed. And it is horrifying. Later, I came home and did some research, which led me to photos of the battlefield which show men splayed out across the field of battle. Then I read the Gettsburg address, of which I only knew the first few words, and imagined as far longer than it is.

Forgive me, but I didn’t even realize that it was a eulogy.

Nov. 19, 1863

Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation or any nation so conceived and so dedicated can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of it as a final resting place for those who died here that the nation might live. This we may, in all propriety do. But in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead who struggled here have hallowed it far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here.

It is rather for us the living, we here be dedicated to the great task remaining before us--that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they here gave the last full measure of devotion--that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain, that this nation shall have a new birth of freedom, and that government of the people, by the people, for the people shall not perish from the earth.

I am a convert. And this, in part, is what our one year trip across the United States is all about.

What was it like, you might ask, touring this astonishing battleground with a four-year-old in tow?

Well, there were times when, instead of listening to our guide, we closely examined the mechanisms of nearby cannons. We had our picture taken with reenacters on Little Round Top. I certainly can’t say that Henry appreciated the gravity nor the bloodshed that took place there.

But he can say “Civil War” which is a level of information that is perhaps greater than most four year olds. And he fully understands that soldiers once fought on that ground.

He came away from Gettysburg with as much,  if not more, information than I had going in. And that is certainly a good beginning of an education in American history.

INTRODUCING GUS THE BUS

Meet Gus the Bus, our best friend and companion for our upcoming trip!

Named by our son Henry, Gus is a 2001 Holiday Rambler Endeavor 40 PBD -- a huge mother at 40 feet with a toad (for those who are not familiar with RV talk, that means the car that you "tow" behind you). It has all the modern amenities, including a microwave, two TVs, and best of all, a Data Storm satellite that keeps us connected to the rest of the world.  In addition, two slide outs -- one in the kitchen area and another in the back bedroom (actually, the only bedroom) make it nice and comfy when parked in an RV Campground somewhere in the U.S.

Note the Martha Stewart Interior!

In the next several weeks, Gus will be put to the test as he travels from Boston to Bowling Green, Kentucky, where Rick will be attending an RV conference.  From there, we head north to Gettysburg, Pennsylvania for our first RV Rally with like-minded travelers. At the rally, we will attend ice cream socials, sit around the campfire, and hope that we see some buffalo -- Henry's fondest wish after a recent episode of Postcards from Buster.

My letter is published in TIME Magazine!

After years of writing travel articles and getting rejections, the last year has been a good one for seeing my name in print.  Last January, a letter of mine was published in National Geographic.  Then, I was published in Journeywoman online (see link).  And this week, I got my own little by-line in Time Magazine (o.k., it was a letter but still... it's a national publication!)  The full text of the letter is below.

"The U.S.'s response to tragedies that occur beyond its borders is often woefully inadequate. The loss of human life and livelihood is always worthy of our attention, compassion and benevolence. Today I can say that our nation--from politicians to philanthropic organizations to ordinary people--has done us proud in reaching out to the victims of this unimaginable catastrophe. I can only hope that such an outstanding display of generosity will not be limited to this one event but will be extended wherever and whenever disaster strikes and the citizens of the world need our help."

SHERRI SWIMAN West Roxbury, Mass.

TOP TWENTY

In no particular order...

• Sedona/Grand Canyon, AZ
• Florida Keys, FL
• Pennsylvania Dutch Country/Hershey, PA
• Austin/San Antonio, TX
• Prince Edward Island, Canada
• Savannah, GA
• Seattle,WA
• Vancouver/Jasper, BC
• The Great Lakes
• Chicago, IL
• Rehoboth, DE
• The Outer Banks, DE
• Appalachian Mountains, GA
• Yellowstone, WY
• Santa Fe/Taos, NM
• Monument Valley, UT
• Memphis, TN
• Savannah, GE
• The Historic Triangle, VA
• Badlands/Wounded Knee, SD