Leaving Maine, Push to Penn.

9/13/10

River falls from town to harbor

Leaving Maine

Side streets to harbor

Typical craft

We left Maine today with a general plan to make it to Brunswick, not too far away to try and hook up with a friend of JoAnn’s mom.   I also had a plan to make it to the Sears in Brunswick to get the Diesel’s tires rotated and oil changed after more than 6500 miles since the last change. I had checked the oil and in spite of the  miles it was still clean.  I changed it anyway.  We missed the lady friend so we continued southward and stopped  at Camden.  This is a very historic and wealthy seaport town.  the harbor was filled with beautiful yawls and ketches of the most elegant lines and fittings.  Strolling the waterfront we shopped for used books pastries and coffee.  It was a relaxing stop even though the rig had to squeeze the narrow streets.  

New England is filled with steepled churches, all prim and painted white.  Most dating to the last century with attached  well kept cemeteries.  We have not had the chance to wander any of them yet but I’ve always found the dates and inscriptions interesting.

back street parking

The weather continued to drizzle so we made for a campground in Freeport.   Poor signage as usual so believing we were lost, “It can’t be out here,” we turned around only to see another camper speeding toward us from the opposite direction.  Hmm, perhaps we gave up too soon, again.  So we too with some difficulty found a place to turn around and learned another lesson about the resistance of the hitch to make up the difference in vertical angle between truck and trailer.  We strained it though and got turned around.  Sure enough the camp was only 500’ further than the point at which we turned around.  Sorry but they had just rented the last space!  Guess who got it?  The other RV that came at us just 10 minutes ago.  Now What?  It’s dark and its raining.  Well they had an overflow space in the parking lot by the office with power and water but no sewer.  We’ll take it.  That will be $40.00 cash!  Crusty old dude.  As it turned out we had  more space and privacy so it worked out.  Somewhere a train whistled good night.

Push to Penn.

9/14/10

We had stayed hitched up so we pulled out fairly early with the intention of taking 2 more days to get to the big RV show in Hershey with a target of Milton just across the border from New York and New Jersey where they both meet up with Pennsylvania at Port Jervis.  We got to Port Jervis so after a restock at WallMart and noticing the signs in the parking lot that they no longer allowed overnight camping which we wanted to try we decided to push for Hershey.  It did not look that far away on the map and we had been making such good time.  Mistake.  The connections between freeways was a long 2 laner with construction detours, 35-45 mph most of the way and through congested business districts.  The afternoon ticked away and getting on to the E-W interstate took a couple of wrong shunts requiring back tracks.  We still felt OK since we had called ahead and made reservations.  The daylight faded and still it seemed it was always another 70 miles away.  The freeway itself was under a lot of construction where the orange traffic barrels went on for miles narrowing the lanes to the point that thundering semis trying to squeeze by us left a few pearls of sweat on my forehead.  I don’t like driving at night and my night vision is getting older.  JoAnn is trying to keep up the navigation from the right seat in the dark.  Somehow between the bouts of doubt 4 different maps, a Woodall Camp guide, and a GPS we manage to keep heading East.  Thats my basic crutch now, East, as long as we’re going East surely we’ll intersect with Hershey.  Its a black moonless night now and the freeway seems to be only occupied with the semis and trailers bedecked like Christmas trees sporting 3-4 dozen red lights.  Like angry giant cockroaches that multiply at night they surround me on both sides forcing me to wind up the Chevy to near redline to get ahead or try to back off straight and steady to be jettisoned out behind, an Airstream hot dog slipping the surly bonds of  Whiteliners and Kenworths. And I’m running out of fuel.

We finally make it to the general area and now need to find the little town of ElisabethTown.  We get lost again and this time the freeway is deserted, no stations for that last resort of help.  No businesses, just acres and acres of empty industrial warehouses.  It would be the last straw if that boat had not already left an hour ago.  I am in pain from my neck and down my back and butt.  My eyes are blurry and my arms are noodles.  So we pull another exit  into an empty sodium lamp lit complex with no indications of what is made here.  It’s erie.  Parked beneath one of the lamps Jo tries to keep up some semblance of spirit and hope but more turns, backtracks and loops leave me dazed.  But what’s the choice.  At last we stumble into Elizabeth Town but the streets are tiny and the trailer now feels like a tanker on my tail.  We turn around again to head over to a Turkey Hill Service station and ask.  “Why you just turned around half a block to soon!”  Agh, Jesus help me!!  “Just go back and cross under the trestle to the right and go about 2 miles.  

Everything is moving on fume remnants now.  It’s been almost 11 hours on the concrete and its almost 11:PM.  Tooth picks couldn’t prop up my eyelids.  The KOA park is in utter blackness.  They did leave a map with site on the bulletin board but we can’t see a thing.  It takes JoAnn, again to lead the lumbering rig by walking ahead with a flashlight guiding the beast into an arrival gate. I was never more drained.  It did not even come close to the time one late dead tired night on my motorcycle in Idaho when the gas station kid hosed me and the bike an all my gear with gasoline.  I did not have the energy to be angry.  I think I was on the verge of tearful madness then.  This night was a bit worse.  I don’t remember anything after shutting off the ignition

The morning broke clear and blue.  Though still sloppy groggy I stumbled outside to the smell of aspen leaves on wet grass.  The cattails in a pond very close by were clicking in the faint breeze.  All felt all the more sweeter and last night was a fading nightmare.  I’m so thankful for JoAnn’s help.  So it’s pop three advils and head up to the shower.  No quarters needed.  they were immaculate and 30 minutes later as I began to prune up the pain pills and hot water softened and eased it all down the road..