By Barry Zander, Edited by Monique Zander, the Never-Bored RVers
“History”: Remember Fifth Grade when you learned the words “Plymouth Rock”? And there were all those other names, like Lord Baltimore, Benjamin Franklin, Jefferson Davis, Roger Williams, William Penn, Benedict Arnold, etc., etc. Since arriving in the colonial states of the East, we often find these names as part of the landscape on the narrow roads we
A Motorhome nests among the Provincetown area dunes
travel.
If it's New England, there's gotta be a lighthouse photo
Plus others, like “Moby Dick” author Herman Melville, The Kennedys’ hide-away Hyannis Port, Explorers John Cabot and Henry Hudson, Captain John Paul Jones, and seaman Nathan Hale, Chappaquiddick, portrait painter Gilbert Stuart, radio inventor Guglielmo Marconi … around every curve is another name that I had heard but with which I had not become personally acquainted. There are many more and, I’m sure, many more to come in the weeks ahead.
The bell rang – move to “Geography” class. In doing a bit of research on the computer (working off battery in our dry-camping situation) I discovered that there are only four Maritime Provinces. It changed in 2001 when Newfoundland and Labrador officially merged. The other three, Prince Edwards Island, New Brunswick and Nova Scotia have stood their ground, so to speak.
Moving along to “Science.” I mentioned that I did online research. Here’s fact that amazes us: We’ve stopped for at least one night in 31 different spots (in 17 states) since starting this journey in March. We were never without cellphone service in any overnight place, and many of those were well off the beaten path. That’s quite a change from when we first set out in 2006 on our new life and were in a celebration mode when we did have phone service. For those new to this type of traveling, I will warn that many, if not most U.S. National Parks, pride themselves on not having communications with the outside world. Be prepared!
Okay, it’s “Recess.” Go outside and play.
Since we last chatted, Monique and I have spent a day in Provincetown, Massachusetts, while parked
Every place around here has "The Best Lobster Rolls in Town," so we had to try one. Not bad!
along “The Cape.” When we pulled up stabilizers, we proceeded along “The Grand Army Highway of the Republic,” stopping for a few minutes in Plymouth (or Plimoth, depending on whose doing the spelling), where we viewed Plymouth Rock. The important message I have about Plymouth is there is free RV parking along the harbor, while just about everyone else pays dearly for the privilege.
Rigging alongside the U.S.S. Constitution in Boston Harbor
Later that day, with our trailer set up for the night at a campground outside Boston, rather than thread our 50 feet through a maze of congested narrow streets, we took our truck into town. It was here that on our National Park service tour of the U.S.S. Constitution we learned that what are referred to as “cannons” on land are “guns” aboard ship. Not news to you Navy vets, but we found it interesting.
I recall in the ‘60s when Life Magazine had a feature on the worse traffic in America – in the City of Boston. After spending almost two hours Tuesday going about six miles, I believe it may have gotten worse over the years. If you repeat our mistake of visiting Downtown Boston at rush hour, be warned that drivers dodge in and out of lanes making right turns from left lanes and passing on the right in the parking lane. We were never so glad to return to our cozy home on wheels.
Other than that, I’ll just say that Cape Cod, Plymouth and Boston all qualify as places to see when traveling the roads of America. We’re now up the coast in Salisbury Beach State Reservation, still in Massachusetts waiting for the weather to clear so we can enjoy the fine Atlantic Beach.
An Ol' Salt makes his way in Plymouth Harbor -- too good a scene to pass up
From the “Never-Bored RVers,” We’ll see you on down the road.
© All photos by Barry Zander. All rights reserved
A COMMENT FROM A PREVIOUS BLOG
Chuck wrote, “From a born and raised New Englander, they are WALLS not fences.” Barry’s response: I stand corrected. Where I come from, you climb walls and bound over fences. I guess it’s a definition that hasn’t permeated throughout the nation over the past 300 years.
Because of the numerous Spam comments on this site, the comments section has been deactivated. Please email us at [email protected] and I will pass along your comments. Learn about Alaska and see travel photos at ontopoftheworld.bz (and much more to come when time allows).