(I’ll save you the trouble:
per·e·gri·na·tion:
noun
literary•humorous
noun: peregrination; plural noun: peregrinations
– a journey, especially a long or meandering one.)
After many cancelled plans and other false starts, we actually began our vacation travels yesterday. This will be a very different trip than others we have written about here, they way 2020 is a year that is unlike any others in my lifetime.
This year was supposed to hold a great deal of travel for us. There was supposed to be the trip to Sweden in May tacked on to the IASSIST conference. There was supposed to be the trip to the Dominican Republic for Nikki and Adam’s wedding. There was supposed to be the annual pilgrimage to the Saratoga Springs for the Travers Stakes. There was supposed to be the amazing trip to the West Indies to sail with a group of friends on a windjammer ship. There was not supposed to be an international pandemic. The world was not supposed to turn upside down. But things never happens the way they are supposed to. They just don’t usually crash and burn so dramatically!
When it became apparent that there would be no fancy airplane trips for us (right after I *finally* get status on an airline no less!!! Grrrr!) We started looking into road trips. Canada was our first choice but the continual postponement of the border opening made it clear that wasn’t going to happen. Then we decided to head south and, torn between mountains and beaches, we booked some time in a cabin in Asheville, NC and some time at the beach in Hilton Head, SC. At the time, NY was the pariah of the US with massive numbers of coronavirus cases appearing every day. So we looked to escape and visit places we’ve never been and stop to visit friends in NC and VA on the trip back north.
And then things got even stranger. NY started to get things together as the rest of the US became the nightmare. And it became obvious that heading to virus hotspots was a bad idea – made impossible by the NY degree that doing so would require a 14 day quarantine upon return. Sooooo, no trip?
OVER MY DEAD BODY! (Wait, bad choice of words!) Hours of searching and days of waiting brought the answer: the northeast had started to do better with the virus so we could all stay safe together. So to Maine we were bound! Since we still hadn’t made the mountains/beach decision, we split this trip the same way we planned to split the southern sojourn: 7 days in a cabin at Moosehead Lake and 3 days at a hotel at Old Orchard Beach. And not long before we left, the state of Maine dropped the requirement for a negative COVID test before entering the state. (We did it anyway and – surprise! – we don’t have it!)
And so we were off! Buddy went to his happy place (Creekside Kennel – highly recommend it!) and we packed up and hit the road. Since we were going to north of the middle of nowhere – a mere 11 hour drive from home – we opted to stop halfway. Well actually about 2/3 of the way. We wanted to avoid stopping in Vermont because even though it is one of my favorite places, they were VERY strict on out of state travelers. So we pushed through to NH and stopped for the night in Franconia at the Franconia Inn.
This place is a stereotypical mountain “resort” circa 1950s (think Dirty Dancing but with out NYC money). It was quaint and charming, had a basic swimming pool as well as a restaurant and bar. Exactly what we needed after nearly 8 hours of screaming sunshine in the convertible. The pool was refreshing, the wine palatable, and the dinner flavorful if a tad over done. A good night’s sleep and a reasonable breakfast later, we were back on the road.
The plan was to spend a little time wandering around the Franconia region before heading north east for the roughly 4 hour trek to the cabin. But that plan was quickly scuppered when we realized that all of New England was puttering through Franconia notch. Many were looking to go hiking as most of the parking lots at trailheads were full to over flowing. Others wanted to partake of water sports (does *everyone* in Connecticut own a kayak?) but they were all sitting in traffic on the Kancamagus Highway. Another quick shift in plans and we were on the last leg of the trip.
The drive itself was picturesque and uneventful but clouds followed us the entire way and grew more ominous as we got closer to our destination. We finally got to the southern end of the lake just as the raindrops began to fall. Actively falling rain is Frank’s requirement for the roof going up so the timing was great. We grabbed a late lunch, hit the local grocery store, and proceeded to our rental unit in Rockwood.
And as we arrived, the skies opened up. Luckily our accommodations are in a lovely apartment over a garage on a property that fronts the river that feeds the lake. We were able to park in the garage and unload all the belongings to a lovely 2 bedroom, one bath, wood paneled apartment with moose and deer festooned decor.
Finally, we could settle. We had no where to be and nothing to do. Well we had to eat dinner (we LOVE marinated pork loin, prepared potatoes au gratin and broccoli that takes very little time and effort to prepare in an unfamiliar kitchen!) and have game night with the family. A bottle of wine to go with both followed by a cup of tea before bed. It’s too much to recall all the typical statistics since this is 2 days in one post but I promise more witty repartee and pointless numeric musings tomorrow.
Meanwhile, here’s some lovely pictures.
The Cannon Family's travel blog 