30 May 2012

 

Still no bears but we have seen an Indian! Sadly, his name was Gupta Singh and he was wearing a turban whilst serving us propane in a petrol station, so he doesn’t count. According to him, and he should know, there are more Sikhs in America than anywhere else outside India, including Barnsley –phew!

Since I last wrote, we have been to New York. Now I know the few who read this drivel are miles more sophisticated and worldly than us but, if you haven’t been there – go! It’s great. We went to see the brilliant(according to his very wrinkly old folks) godson and his very lovely gentleman friend Adrian, I mean girlfriend Adrienne. We camped in an expensive but handy RV site in Jersey City from which one could catch an underground to Manhattan and from which one could see the backside of the Statue of Liberty. Many people think this is her best side and I am inclined to agree as we didn’t get the chance of a full-frontal. This place, should you ever need anywhere to camp in new York, is called Liberty Harbour Marina and RV Park. It cost us $80 per night which was a bit of a shock but was miles cheaper than a hotel. Having said that, one does have to put up with a fairly average place with less than average people working there (apart from a charming and helpful old Mexican who was the night security guard).

Liberty's rearview

2nd guide and fellow enthralled passenger
(he was the guy in the film Platoon who shot himself)

If you only have 3 days and not much money, then I recommend that you take a city tour on day one, sponge off godsons on day two and then get up and cover the bits you missed or want to see more of on the third day – sounds rather like Easter but actually it was more fun and we had chocolate. We had a bit of luck buying a hop-on hop-off guided bus tour from the appropriately named City Tours. Over three days one could tour all over in the most flexible way including night tours and harbour tours. A guide on one of our hops-on came close to being glowered at when he amusingly insisted on calling me “Essex”. He had the grace to apologise and admit that he had never seen an angry Brit before and then referred to me as Dorset. Another knew bugger-all about anything and we couldn’t hear or understand her so we... yeah, you guessed it, hopped-off.  The third was great and very knowledgeable and didn’t even get flustered when we had to do an unscheduled detour into the definitely off-piste parts of Harlem due to a building that had fallen over (not due to Al Qaeda for a change). We knew that something was up as there were 6 helicopters circling like vultures over the spot.

View fron "Top of the Rock"

Some highlights that we would advise you not to miss (even if it means a bit of a queue): World Trade Centre (very well done, spooky and sad), Top of the Rockefeller Centre (not to be missed for the views but you need a clear day; we had to wait until the morning we were leaving before it wasn’t in the clouds), Grand Central Station (despite being almost train-less these days, it’s an amazing work of art and not a bad place to get a quick lunch), Central Park (unbelievably totally man-made; it used to be a marshy swampy bit with a few rocks until a couple of chaps won a competition in the mag “Practical Park Builder” with their design and - voila - it was done. Now it is a good place for people watching from runners, walkers and staggerers, to bored maids out walking millionaires’ dogs). Like anywhere, going out of season helps with the crowds but beware of clouds; there is no point at all going to a place famed for its skyline if you can’t see it and if you do take a tour, make sure it is an open-topped bus not a coach.

North Tower footprint Ground Zero NY

Central Park

J & A showed us bits which trippers don’t normally go to: we walked the Highline, a cool park created on a reclaimed elevated railway, we ate huge and real NY Italian pizzas and drank in the city’s oldest pub – McSorley’s. The chap outside, dressed like a gangsta leprechaun, was either the owner, a bouncer or the original McSorley. Either way, he was a miserable git who turned away some perfectly respectable Americans, saying that they couldn’t go in as they had had too much to drink already! I believe, in this digital communications age, the correct expression is WTF?

Abe Lincoln drank here too (or so they say)

Freedom Tower World Trade Center NY
Still under construction and has just become tallest in the city

Having felt like we had walked our already short legs down to stubs, we left the city and continued North through bits of NY State, Connecticut and Massachusetts, en-route to Boston. There were of course dramas. A nasty squeak had developed and it wasn’t coming from the Navigator. We off-loaded the camper and discovered that the cargo bed was splitting and sort of coming away from the chassis. Had it continued, it would have only been a matter of miles before complete disaster. As always seems to happen here, a kind and concerned passer-by advised us who to contact and a wonderful small company called Balmville Collision dropped everything from their busy programme and devoted a day to fixing us. At one stage we had most of their workforce – six guys or so, working on the problem. I am pretty fed-up with S Karrosser (the Swedish makers of the camper). I ‘phoned them to try to get advice on correct mounting points for our Navara and they said they would email the drawings – they didn’t and in fact have never helped in any tiny way with any request for information. So, everyone, don’t buy their kit if you want any form of after sales service.

Mended and poorer but happier we wound our way onwards towards Boston. Here we discovered that one of the bods had failed to connect correctly the electrics to the camper’s 12v supply from the truck. Satisfyingly, we identified what was wrong but irritatingly, we failed to fix it. Another trip to another mechanic and we are now absolutely hot-to-trot. (Watch this space.) I don’t hold a grudge against Balmville Collision – they were very sorry and had we not been several hundred miles away, they would have fixed it.

 

Boston didn’t really grip us. The Nav’s diary says (amongst other things) that it was like driving through Clapham in the rain! We did go to a great coffee shop which we had read about in the  Telegraph in England. It is called Polcari and is wonderful in many ways. It’s not so hot if you fancy a cup of coffee – they don’t sell it in liquid form. I think the Telegraph Travel bit should have pointed this out; we drove bloody miles to get there and had to have a cup next door (still quite good though). Then I wanted to walk to the harbour and hoy a PG Tips bag in for old time’s sake. With the draconian waterways-littering fines, (and I had left the teabag in the truck) – I didn’t. Anyhow, it was here that the locals started moaning about tax and about the government changing its mind and, as I’m told they say in the best bodice-ripper stories, one thing led to another. It was jolly lucky for them that the Brits decided to bestow Independence upon them and not come-down hard and teach them a lesson. Bye the way, the seppos are still moaning about tax and the government going back on its word, so they may as well not have bothered and could even now be celebrating the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee with us.

We went to Harvard

It was about now that the Nav and I had a slight misunderstanding. I thought that she wanted to see Viagra Falls and, not wanting to be negative, I was outwardly ever-so enthusiastic. Conversely, she thought I was dead keen and went along with it. As it turns out, we were both happy to give it a miss and not be subjected to mass tourist rubbish and crowds. It was also cold and grey and that was not what we had come for. We then had to decide whether to head for Wyoming (our next fixed point) via the northern route – Chicago, Minnesota, South Dakota, or via the more central route of St Louis, Missouri, Kansas, Colorado. Due to the above mentioned cold and grey and to finding more interesting things in the book, we have decided on the latter. So, I am now writing this sitting in a small clearing 200 feet above the Ohio river looking across to Kentucky on the far bank. It’s reportedly about 90 F with night-time lows of about 25. Bye-bye cold!

Industry on the Ohio

The Ohio is amazing; we have been vaguely following it for the past week or so and have passed through the nightmare of vast, rusting and redundant iron and steel works around Weirton in West Virginia and through unexpectedly beautiful forest and farming land of Ohio and Indiana. The river is huge and is made navigable by a system of dams and locks. Huge rafts of 15 or so barges plough slowly up and down carrying all sorts of stuff from coal to benzene. I have a feeling that some of them may be just wandering up and down trying to find a buyer as I have just seen a raft of coal going north east and another one going the other way a hour or so later. Maybe they could use a bit of my red-hot logistical advice here.

US Army Corps of Engrs barge - REs don't have anything like this

Since we are on the subject, America could cut right back on its oil consumption and thus considerably reduce its carbon emissions etc by kicking the habit of mowing everything. Even the smallest mobile home is surrounded by acres of grass all of which gets cut by, often quite large, people on ride-on mowers (so do all the verges and central reservations). Trade-in your motors for push mowers and help save the planet and lose weight at the same time.

 I suspect that they are even more busy mowing at the moment as it is about to be Memorial weekend and everyone is making a huge effort to make everywhere look nice. It is actually very impressive and I wish the average Brit would take a similar pride in his surroundings. Memorial Day (which falls on the last Monday of May) is taken very seriously with a Bank holiday and parades and services. It is one of the reasons why we are hiding in the woods – to escape the crowds.

 

National Pride

Fozz woz ere?

I should add, for those of you who are interested in our route, we have been staying in some wonderful spots on the way down here: The Green Mountains in Vermont (remote and unspoilt), The Adirondacks in New York (- a bit developed for tourism, so, some tacky resort areas. Despite this we did find an unspoilt lake to ourselves and slept to the call of loons and coyotes), the Allegheny National Forest. I have been intending to add a map to this blog but despite being good with maps, I am bad with technology and have had no luck so far.

Mason Lake - Adirondacks

 What else to report? Ah yes, I’m worried the Nav’s gone native – she bought a packet of “Hungry Joe’s Instant Pancake mix and some real locally made maple syrup (delish.) We have had varied results so far; probably due to a small non-stick saucepan being inappropriate.

We have missed being in Kentucky for the Derby earlier this month. The woman in the liquor store tells us that the winner was a horse which everyone is hoping will go on to win the third of the US big races and so become the first Triple Crown winner for decades. She thought its name was something to do with booze –“I’ll-Have-Another” or “Minzapint” or “Creme-de-Menthe-Frappe”, I’m not sure - look it up and pile your money on.

I expect that some of you are aware of my strange fascination with names. America is full of wonderful village and town names, many of them easily on a par with Piddletrenthide in Dorset or Pratts Bottom in Kent. Here is just a small taste of those in southern West Virginia: Switzer (!!), Tug Fork, Job, Cucumber, War, Crum, Gary, Bald Knob (no photo – boo), Fort Gay (great posting), Bozoo, Hico, Rupert(!!), Odd, Bog, Mud, Petroleum, Left Hand, Sample(!! - in Kentucky), Policeman’s Helmet, that’s enough names – ed. Actually, I made the last one up but all the others are pukka.

Worried looking Indiannan tortoise on our picnic table(for Imi)

We've upgraded our truck

I’m writing this from the Northern end of the Blue Ridge Parkway(BRP)/Skyline Drive but before I begin I would like to share a few thoughts about trains. They have trains here that are so long that a single one has more wagons to it than the whole of the British rolling-stock combined. They wouldn’t be able to operate in England without using Scotland as a shunting yard (or vice versa in case you are Scottish and are a bit sensitive). The thing is that these American trains hoot – all the time, at night. The noise isn’t just a mildly annoying Brit NEE-NAH, it’s more like the Queen Mary in fog.  They don’t appear to do it during the day, or I’ve not heard them at it. As far as I can see, one train that is 30-odd miles long keeps hooting at a perceived danger point until the whole thing is past. By that time the front, which controls the hooter, has arrived at another DP. As no one lives far from a railway line, this means that the whole country is kept awake by hooting trains when they should be sleeping. Surely, productivity must suffer?  The whole issue could be solved by installing proper level crossings; barriers come down, people stop, problem solved without a hoot being heard. We are not that far from Washington so I may call in and enlighten them. I could be told to bugger off and mind my own business, which would be fair enough. I have a suspicion that they (our cousins) find the noise “evocative-of-a-bye-gone-era”.

Another, shorter, observation is that over here, unlike in England, Harley Davidsons are not regarded as a gay icon. In fact loads of people ride them. They are mostly old and fat men with moustaches. I think they are retired estate agents and, although they try their best with leather, studs, tassels and silly helmets etc, they absolutely fail to look like Hells Angels or young tearaways.

Slightly more normal bikers

I had the vague idea that the Blue Ridge Parkway was built by the Corps of Commissionaires as I hadn’t really understood what a helpful and friendly, but rather broad accented, cousin was explaining. There comes a time when it’s better to just nod and say “yes how interesting” rather than keep asking them to repeat themselves. A useful information sign eventually cleared things up and informed us that the BRP was built by the CCC – Civilian Conservation Corps, partly as a means of employing some of those worst affected in the Great Depression. Hundreds of schemes such as building reservoirs, parks, roads and trails mean that America is fortunate to have many brilliant National and State parks and other “recreational facilities”, as they are now known. The BRP is just one but it gives an idea of the scale of the project. It is a 469 mile long road running down the most spectacular section of the Appalachian Mountains – just to give Americans a chance to be in one of their prettiest bits East of the Mississippi. It is wonderful, and I urge anyone travelling in the Southeast to use it. It is free, no commercial vehicles can use it and it is safe. The down-side is that during peak seasons it can get busy. When the trees change in autumn, and the leaf-peepers come out, it may be best avoided. In April it is empty. Several of the campsites were still closed when we went North but those that were open were practically deserted.

we say sausage

We occasionally ventured away to find even more remote areas of National Forests so that we could camp for free – “wild camping” we might call it; the National Forest rangers call it “dispersed camping” and seem too happy to advise where the nicest and quietest bits  are. In fact, these rangers were all most helpful, particularly the Law Enforcement branch. One pulled up alongside us in a lay-bye and advised us to ignore the road closed signs and go on through what he thought was the prettiest section until the road was actually blocked. He then gave us a route around. He was armed with a huge pistol and a tazer. “People don’t seem to mind being shot but they sure are scared of electrocution”. His name was Ranger Haines and he was enormous and is now known as Tazer Haines (by us). I think he may be related to Dennis. We were later to meet an equally good guy called “Hopeful” Smith as he had only just got his tazer and seemed to be itching to use it. He gave us his number and said to give him a call if we saw anything untoward and he would be right down to zap it. Now that’s my kind of ranger.

On one of our detours we drove for miles and miles along bumpy stone tracks hoping to find  a nice spot to stay for a couple of nights and discovered that everyone for 50 miles was called Hicks. I suspect they may have all been related judging by the look of them; we didn’t stay. We went through a couple of small towns, Banner Elk and Valle Crucis, described in the book as achingly beautiful – huh, the authors have obviously never visited the Cotswolds. They were both a bit moderate. Mind you, they may have looked significantly better under several meters of snow – I think they may have been skiing resorts. I think the guidebook translation of “awesome” into English is “quite pretty”. I was hoping for a picturesque and romantic dinner in a recommended restaurant in Valle Crucis but it was shut and we couldn’t find anywhere to stay so we had an almost as good a time in Wal-Mart’s car park in Boone. This place is of Daniel Boone fame and one often sees other reminders of childhood songs and films: Dula – where a chap called Tom killed his bird as in “Hang down your head Tom Dooley” by the famous Kingston Trio, Cumberland Gap (15 miles? – Lonnie Donnagan?) and What did Della-wear? Etc etc.

raining hard

 Along the whole mountain chain runs the Appalachian Trail; some 2,184 miles from Springer Mountain in Georgia to Mount Katahdin in Maine. We walked it in one afternoon – well, a bit of it, 5 miles. Some hardy souls walk the whole way and I think that their feat (and feet probably) could correctly be described as awesome. We met a chap, who was doing it and had covered 800 miles heading North so far, at an average of 16 miles a day. He had been joined by his sister for a long weekend and we had a chat. Pleasingly, they looked mightily impressed for a split second when we told them we had just walked down from Maine but I think binos as my only equipment gave the game away. He, like many here (god knows how I will cope with the Spanish to the South), had a broad accent and when he said his name was Salty I replied “what, like salty bacon?” “well, sort of but without the bacon - Soltie”. This caused the Navigator to do a nose trick and to try to kick my shins. An absolute mystery sometimes. She later told me they were Jewish and not great on bacon. How was I to know? (Even if his sister was called Rebecca).

A very strange people these Americans

 Before leaving the BRP and starting  the SLD (Sky-line Drive) we visited Monticello near Charlottesville. This is a very popular spot which was the home to Thomas Jefferson who was and is a frightfully important man in American history. I’m not going to go into all that he achieved here, look him up, but he wanted to be remembered for three achievements: he drafted the Declaration of Independence, he founded the University of Virginia and he was responsible for the Statute of Religious Freedom for Virginia. He did lots of other things too (such as owning over 600 slaves) and was an all-round good-egg. We (Brits) almost certainly thought of him as an ungrateful terrorist. He built his surprisingly small mansion on top of a steep hill and therefore suffered from an acute water shortage for most of the year. No wonder he kept a close eye on the weather. Anyhow, if one can go when the crowds aren’t too bad it’s a good day out.

Monticello - nice but surprisingly small

(like me?)

The Sky-line Drive had just been closed for the day due to snow! We had based our whole timetable so far on moving North with the warm weather but you know what they say about best laid plans etc. We did spend a cold night up on it and very nice  it was too but we needed warmth. So headed for lower  altitudes and off to Gettysburg for a view of the famous battlefield upon which the tide of the civil war turned in favour of the Union. Again, like so many tourist and historical places in America, it was very well done. There was an excellent introductory film and an exhibition of the famous cyclorama, painted by a frog only a few years after the battle. The self-guided tour was well laid-out and meant that one could go at one’s own speed and avoid the masses; there were a lot of people but in high season it must be hell.

Fantastic back-swing, the vicious, double-jointed brute.

Typical gunner - he's going to miss that house.

Between Gettysburg and Philadelphia we drove through Amish country. This was fascinating but on should stay clear of the main routes through. The  area has become a bit of a tourist trap offering such delights as Amish buggy rides and Amish home visit experiences. The do suffer a little more because of the masses stopping to take snaps of each other beside the quaint old-word village signs; of course we didn’t.

Amish shopping

why?

To make more room for these

The best name we have found so far belonged to a baker called Otis Spunkmeyer – fine breads and cream buns. It doesn’t feature in our photos as I was so excited that by the time I had stopped the truck and got the camera out, he had disappeared.

I'd say so

I ought to mention that we had, on the way north to Phili, passed through West Virginia and Maryland before hitting Pennsylvania but I must have blinked or nodded-off as I can’t recall noticing them. They are very narrow states in this area and are what one might expect if one allows a guy from Durham and a Corn to join up to decide the boundaries – Mason and Dixon (Line).

Independence Hall 

Philadelphia was our first taste of a high-rise city and it was very impressive. There are lots of huge sky-scrappers and also some wonderful of historical buildings. One of them houses the Liberty Bell but as it’s broken, we didn’t go to gawp, unlike long queues of normal tourists. Apparently it  cracked when rung for too long and too hard on Washington’s birthday once. Shoddy goods? It was cast in the Whitechapel foundry, they must have seen those yanks coming and thought here’s a chance to rip them off. The city also boasts some terrible roads. They are in a shocking state and probably contributed to our present Nissan problems – more of which next time when I will also introduce you to New York.

Wildlife tally so far:

2 deer with vultures (road kill)

10 or so white-tailed deer
20 racoons (road kill)
1 live racoon (wanted to get into our truck)
2 things that looked like waterbuck but couldn’t have been
2 Skunks (1 dead 1 alive) – they both smell
Loads of wild turkeys
2 beaver-like things
1 elk – I suspect it had been tethered to attract tourists
5 copper-head snakes (in a half hour. The rangers had said they weren’t active yet)
Chipmunks, squirrels etc.
Turtles
Red Efts (look them up)
Birds – too numerous and fantastic to mention
2 Jewish people

We have just bought Peterson’s Field guide to North American Birds which is a recommended, easy-to-use book so we should get better at identifying and reporting them.  Also, we will see a bear – soon.