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Eurovan Travels

Heading out!

Bye House
Bye House!

Here we go! 11:00-ish as they say. All loaded up and Pammie is behind the wheel on the first leg of the journey. Bye house, be kind to your caretakers. Bye street, bye, bye, bye…..whoops! Forgot the leg pillow. Hi street, hi house, hi pillow. C’mon to Montana. Repeat.

Smooth sailin’ now. Looks like the Google’s gonna take us over through Vermont? Whoops, told Pam too late, missed the exit. Bad navi! Oh well, there will be a couple more exits I think.
Looks like the Google wants us to head Down 495 now. Okeedokee then. Off we go! I’ll let you know what happens.

Pammie kicked butt and drove us all the way to Sturbridge Mass. A solid 2 hour effort in her first stint at the wheel with me mumblin’ and grumblin’ in the passenger seat when we hit a huge traffic jam just outside of Haverhill. Come to find out, it was a rather bad accident. I’ll shut up now! A little history of Sturbridge and the Mass Pike is in order here. History according to ME, that is.

When the Charlie Kohlhase Quintet used to tour a bit, we’d pick up John Turner at his house in the van. He’d spend a fair amount of time adjusting the seat, mirrors and all the other shiite he wanted to adjust and then he’d drive us out of Boston and when we got the Sturbridge truck stop on the Mass Pike, which is about a 45 minute drive, he’d pull in give up the pilot’s chair. So, to me, the Sturbridge Mass truck stop is really the John Turner truck stop. So, when Pam said she was going to drive first when we left, I said, naturally, “are you going to make it to the John Turner truck stop?

The Turner truck stop turned out to be the perfect destination because Miss Pam had just about had enough…but…i’ve been to there many times and it’s a shithole of gargantuan proportions so we decided to take the exit instead. Neither of us has ever been to Sturbridge Village so, let’s see what that’s all about, shall we? Pam jumped out at a nondescript parking lot. I saw the sign for Sturbridge Village but somehow missed the turn so I took a different turn instead. The road got a little interesting and then we passed a lake. We both saw an odd sign as I tore by, a fishing sign AND a wheelchair sign. Hmmmm, handicapped fishing hole?! Let’s check THAT out!

First lunch stop
First lunch stop

Quick u-ie and bang a right and…ahhh…dirt road and a nice, breezy lake. A little further and we cross a little bridge with a large section of the lake to our left and the smaller part to right. A couple hundred more feet down the road we see a right that leads into a nice dirt parking lot right next to the lake. I park the party van and we commence to exploring the place. Right next to the lake, the origins of the crazy sign are revealed; a handicapped accessible dock, right over the water with places in the rails to park one’s fishing pole and enjoy the beauty of the lake. This may be the first handicapped fishing dock I have ever seen! Pretty damn sweet!

Pammie whips up a nice lunch of ziti salad, ham and cheese sandwiches and cape cod potato chips accompanied by a nice cold Sierra Nevada Ale. I collapse in a stupor of warm, balmy breezes, incredibly beautiful scenery and the extended, relaxed company of my best friend and lover. This is the first stop, on the first day, of our first ever almost-cross-country road trip and it’s already sublime. We both savor the moment silently chowing down and taking it all in.

After that brief slice of  bliss. We stroll around a bit and look for a place to take a dip. The water is pretty funky and there’s a LOT of lily pads so we decide to bag the swimming idea and get back on the road. A quick cleanup and we hit it. We consult the Google for our exit strategy and it takes us to route 20 instead of right back to the pike. GREAT! We pass through Brimfield, which is an “Antique” center of the universe when the antique shows are in town. Fortunately, they are NOT in town today. Don’t get me wrong, I like an over-priced yard sale about as much as an unexpected finger pinch from a pair of old rusty pliers, but I’m glad we don’t have to plod through an endless traffic jam of shitboxes piloted by deal seeking bluehairs.

making wet tracks
Making wet tracks

We’re both kind of spacey as lunch digests and the beers kick in. Western Mass blows by in a hazy, early summer, steamy blur and, shortly, we’re back on the pike. Pammie takes a good gander at the back of her eyelids for a while while I get in the the groove of piloting the party bus. This baby is a cruiser for sure. Set it, forget it, and take in the sights! The sky turns quite black and shortly we’re sailing along in a sea of hail-size raindrops. It’s pelting! I love to drive in this shit so on we go. We’re trying to hit Holley New York tonight and it’s looking good.

We hit Holley NY around 7PM. Pam has scoped the scene out and we head toward the Erie Canal where there is a small park with camping facilities and showers. We poke around a bit. Make a few navigational errors and, finally, wind up in a beautiful little park right on the Erie Canal. There are some signs on the bathroom that tell you to call the local police to get in after hours so we make the call. Within a few minutes, a young officer arrives. We inquire about camping in the parking lot with the lily-white Langley party bus and he’s a tad skeptical. “That thing is a camper?”. I invite him to take a look inside. When he does he kind of shakes his head in disbelief and then says, “I have to call the chief to check if it’s okay to camp in the lot.”

While he checks, Pam and I both comment to each other about how nice a spot this is and how we think the officer is going to let us stay. Sure enough, we get the thumbs up so I turn the bus around so the bikes aren’t out in the middle of the lot. We decide to take a tool around town on the bikes to check out the Holley, NY scene.

This a beautiful little town and it appears that there ain’t much going on a Wednesday night! We head back to the campsite to cook dinner. Pammie cooks up a wonderful dinner with hot italian sausage, peppers, mushrooms and ziti salad. We eat out on a picnic table in the park and are both struck at how quiet and peaceful this spot is. Hopefully we continue this streak of luck tomorrow!

Down for the night
Down for the night