TLGSRTA - Day 2 - Here We Are

7/4/15, “Here We Are”

Mammoth Hot Springs, Wyoming (Yellowstone National Park)

There was is an apocryphal story about this day in history, 239 years ago, that King George wrote in his journal, “Nothing of significance happened today.”  First of all, news took weeks or months to cross the Atlantic, so there was no way he would have known about that famous document that begins, “In CONGRESS, July 4, 1776,” and he actually did not even keep a journal.  Today, news travels around the world in seconds, and I keep plenty of journals.  This one, the one that I share with the public, the one that details my travel adventures has plenty to say about today.

After I closed last night, I went back in my cabin and, I don’t quite recall how it happened, but, my computer slid off the bed, damaging it badly.  A piece was cracked, and I was worried it would stop working at any moment.  It has held up so far.  My stress continuing, I went back to sleep, hoping everything would be better in the morning.  It was.  I had a great breakfast, consisting of coffee, Montana grain pancakes, bacon, and eggs, all delicious.  We went the Old Faithful VC where I got my brochure and did my WHS stamping.  We were soon on the road.

We set out to collect six Stamps and the Plaque today, but the trip is about more than Stamps and Plaques.  It was about enjoying the natural beauty of the region.  We did it all.  Our first stop was the VC at Madison, where there was a charming little basin of water and a mountain called National Park Mountain.  Apocryphally again, this was the spot where the National Park was invented.  For my first cigar of the day, I chose an ESG, and we walked around a bit.  We then got in the car and headed towards the West Entrance.

There was lots of traffic going the opposite direction, and there was a long line at the entrance station.  The stamp was outside the park.  One thing led to another, and we decided we’d get lunch in town in West Yellowstone, Montana, where we’d get the stamp, and, by then, the traffic would die down.  West Yellowstone was everything we hoped Jackson would be, and we had lunch at a charming cowboy restaurant.  I got the bison steak, which was quite decent.  We then headed back into the park, and we had gambled right.

The traffic was gone, and we went to Norris Geyser Basin, which had a stamp and some scenic walks, where we could literally feel and smell the sulfur from the geysers.  I chose a Headley Grange for the walk, until a ranger told me that I couldn’t smoke it in the geyser area.  We went back to the car, and I finished it en route, sticking my head out the window to smoke.  There was another nearby stamp at the Museum of the National Park Ranger, which was a charming old backcountry ranger cabin.  Our next and final stop would be Mammoth Hot Springs, the main village inside the park.  I have been rather light on details, both due to time constraints and because words cannot really describe the idyllic beauty of these drives and walks.  Pictures can come closer, but they fail, too.

We made our way to the Albright VC, where the Plaque was alleged to be.  I had figured it would be outside.  No dice.  I went inside and still couldn’t find.  I started to panic.  I implored my mother to find me the Plaque, as she had so many times before.  She asked at the desk, and they said it was downstairs.  We went to the bookstore, bought some gifts, got my stamp, and then headed downstairs.  We were both appalled with the lack of respect they showed the Plaque, squirreling it away next the restrooms.  With some difficulty, we managed to get a few good pictures, but the disappointment of this charming village soon grew.  We went for ice cream, underwhelming.  The general store had some souvenirs, but it, too, was disappointing.  We gassed up, and I calculated that the tank was simply registering an extra 4 gallons of gas, which meant we could only ever fill it up to three quarters of a tank.

Since I couldn’t smoke at the hot springs, we took a walk along Beaver Ponds Trail, which afforded nice views of the hot springs.  That was where I smoked my Cuban for the National Park, an Hoyo de Monterrey.  After we were done walking, we headed back, and my mother went into town, while I went across the street to find a bench with a nice view, where I proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that we can begin to make our way back to the hotel.

Old Faithful, Wyoming (Yellowstone National Park)

I have frequently written in my personal journals about pure happiness and pure good, about how rare it is for me to feel pure happiness for any extended period of time, about how there are so few relationships (by which I mean any type of relationship, romantic or otherwise) in my life that a pure good, that most relationships have a mix of good feelings and bad feelings, that I choose the relationships that provide more good than bad.

Along those lines, one of my happiest travel memories was during the greatest of our summer road trip adventures.  It was at the Grand Canyon 14 years ago (not 16 years as I had thought).  I woke up first thing in the morning, remembered where we were, and just ran outside to see the Canyon, which was visible from just outside our cabin.  I was so happy to be there, and it was a pure happiness, no nagging doubts in the back of my mind about work or girls or money, just a wide-eyed 13-year-old excited to be at the Grand Canyon.

I suppose I had a similar experience with Old Faithful this morning, though it was not pure happiness, but it was still happiness.  The geyser is visible about a minute from our cabin, but we did not see it erupt until this morning, after breakfast, only catching the tail end of it.  We again only caught the tail end of it this evening.  It is called Old Faithful for a reason, and I’m sure we’ll see the full eruption at some point.  A year ago tonight, I was at Juneau with Sokol, enjoying an Opus X outside Juneau, having a conversation that would wind up shaping the next six months of my life and the three months afterwards during which I dealt with the fallout of those three months.

Tonight, I sit here alone in Yellowstone National Park, enjoying a Davidoff, and I am finally happily alone, both physically right now and in general.  “To say ‘I love you,’ one first must know how to say the ‘I.’”  I have never had trouble saying the “I.”  With this Independence Day, I will focus on the “I,” on loving myself and the few people in my life who truly add value to my life.  You know who are, there are only ten of you in the world.  If you are not one of those ten people, do not think that even ties of blood will make a difference.

Okay, so after I closed, we headed to Fort Yellowstone, which used to serve I guess as the civil headquarters of the Park, and I finished my cigar there.  We then headed back to our hotel, and Old Faithful was about to erupt when we got there.  The time it took us to drop off our bags and grab our drinks caused us to miss the beginning of the eruption.  I lit up a Davidoff and headed to the Snow Lodge, where I could get Wi-Fi, had the rest of my cigar and drink, and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can publish.

TLGSRTA - Day 1 - Here We Go

7/3/15, “Here We Go”

En route, I-80 E, Utah

Here we go, our last great summer road trip adventure is underway with a scenic drive through Utah and Wyoming.  On any other trip, this day would be an absolute highlight, breakfast at Utah’s “most iconic” restauarant, a quick stop at Fossil Butte NM, lunch in historic Jackson Hole, and a couple of hours at Grand Teton NP.  That is the plan for today, and, yet, it is basically a travel day.  Compared to the adventures that await us, this day is boring, but here we go.  After I closed at the airport last night, there was quite a delay getting airborne.  The flight itself was relatively unadventurous, though the plane took off close to an hour late.  It was close to 11:30 PM by the time we landed.  We got the car and headed to the hotel.  There was a Wendy’s and a gas station right by the hotel, so my mother checked in while I went to the gas station, Wendy’s being closed unless you had a car for the drive-thru, and I did not feel like going back to get the car just to get a Frosty.  Instead, I stocked up at the gas station on snacks for the road for both of us and a car charger for my phone.

When I got back, it was almost 1 AM.  Whether it was the caffeine, our naps, or the general stress of travel, we both had trouble sleeping, and it was 2 AM by the time I fell sleep.  I woke up with a start, my watch saying 8 AM.  It seemed we had overslept.  The diner opened at 8 AM, and we were supposed to be on our way to Grand Teton NP at 8:30 AM, 9 AM at the absolute latest.  I woke up my mother.  I then realized I had forgotten to set my watch back.  Yes, it was 8 AM in New York.  It was only 6 AM in Salt Lake City.  I alerted my mother to my mistake.  Needless to say, she was none too pleased.  We both had trouble getting back to sleep.  As we were getting ready, I had a nagging suspicion that I had left something off of my itinerary, some NPS in Wyoming en route.  Sure enough, I had forgotten to list Fossil Butte NM, which was 10 minutes off of the highway.  I quickly readjusted, and we got ready.

She went down to the lobby for breakfast, while I made my way to Ruth’s Diner, the “most iconic” restaurant in Utah and a veritable breakfast spot.  While the iconic part was probably inside, everyone was sitting outside, the whether so beautiful.  That is what I did.  As soon as they sit you down, they give you one of their famous “mile-high” biscuits, which is deceptively good.  I asked my server what dishes they were most famous for, and she mentioned the benedicts.  The article that named this place the “most iconic” restaurant in Utah recommended the pulled pork benedict.  I asked her about it.  “That’s my favorite,” she replied.  Excellent.

It truly brought breakfast to another level, each bite an explosive sensation in my mouth.  They sell the coffee mugs, and I asked my server if I could just purchase the mug I was using.  She said that was fine and added the nominal charge for the mug to my tab.  I went back to the hotel to pick up my mother and got in the passenger seat.  The drive has been very scenic, and we are now approaching the Wyoming border.  After I wrote a proposal, I proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can go back to my proposals once we enter Wyoming.

En route, US-89 N, Wyoming

Here we go, by the time I finish this entry, we will be at Yellowstone National Park.  The big one.  As my mother and I drove this afternoon, we tried to piece together the great summer trips we took, figuring out why we never went to Yellowstone.  It was always in the back of our mind, but we did other things instead, none of them bad trips.  I think there was some element of as I grew older the desire for us to take epic family trips simply faded, and Yellowstone simply never happened.  It is happening now.  Here we go.  We have finished the opening acts, the amuse bouche and the appetizer.  Tomororow is the main act, the main course.  Tomorrow, on the Fourth of July, we will finally do Yellowstone, Stamps and Plaques and all.  We will do it up right.  As we drove through Grand Teton National Park, it felt almost perfunctory.  I kept thinking in the back of my mind that it was just the appetizer.  Wait, here we go, here’s the sign.

Here we are.  We have Officially entered Yellowstone National Park.  It only took us 16 years.  It is fitting that our last great summer road trip adventure will take us here.  It was 16 years ago, to the day maybe, that we went to Grand Canyon National Park on what was and always will be considered our greatest summer road trip adventure.  It brings tears to my eyes as right this, both thinking of the epicness of our last 16 years of travel and the knowledge that is our last big one.  Our GPS says that we will be at our hotel within an hour, but that is ambitious.  Anyway, I was writing about how, as we were driving through Grand Teton NP, something that would, under any circumstances, be a major thing unto itself, we just wanted to get it over with, scarf down our appetizer so that we could get to the main course.  We just wanted to get out stamps, take a few pictures, and get out of there, moving on to the next site.  In fact, the route we were taking, Grand Teton NP was literally unavoidable.  The route from Jackson, WY to our hotel in Yellowstone NP literally went through Grand Teton NP, and it truly felt that way, that we were just getting our stamps because we were there.

Okay, so what happened after I closed in Utah?  As I mentioned, our first stop was Fossil Butte NM.  It has been 11 hours since I had my meal at Ruth’s Diner, and we have not had an Official meal since then.  It might be another two hours before we have dinner tonight.  I am starving, and the snacks have come in quite handy.  Actually, I need some more.  Okay, so we made our way to Fossil Butte NM, which wasn’t much, but it was an NPS.  We were tight on time, since my mother wanted to walk around historic Jackson, and I wanted to make sure I got every stamp at Grand Teton NP and at least made a pass at getting the full enjoyment value out of the NP.  We got our stamp, I lit up a Las Calaveras, and we found our scenic overlook.  In a touch of irony from the trips we used to take (I guess both of our bodies have changed significantly in the past 16 years), she didn’t want to do too much walking, while I was pushing for a longer hike so that I can finish my cigar.

We compromised, and we agreed that I could smoke the rest of my cigar out of the window, and then I would ditch it and take over the wheel.  It turned out that we were taking a slightly different route, so we found ourselves at a gas station.  I told my mother to gas up while I finished the cigar, and then I would ditch the cigar.  She seemed none too pleased with the idea of gassing up and admitted that she didn’t know how to gas up.  I told her that I had confidence in her ability to figure it out.  I was wrong.  As I smoked my cigar, I saw two Asian tourists standing there, watching her attempt to figure it out.  I did not find out all of the details until later, so I will recall them in their proper place.

As we approached Jackson, a drive of about 150 miles, I noticed something.  The gas tank was still at full.  No, that was not possible.  It should have been at least half empty.  This couldn’t be right.  I mentioned it to my mother.  She said that she really filled it up well, putting as much in it as she could.  Wait, what?!?  Yeah, she kept filling it up, even after it shut off.  Huh?  She thought the pump was broken, since it kept shutting off.  No, no, no, there’s an auto-shutoff mechanism.  It automatically stops once it’s full.  She didn’t know that.  It’s actually kind of a big deal, you’re really not supposed to do that.  She could have flooded the mechanism or something.  I don’t know a lot about cars, but I know you’re not supposed to do that.  We decided that we would simply gas up every 200 miles.  That would handle it, or so we thought.

Jackson was quite a letdown, yet somehow we spent an hour there, getting liquor, Wendy’s, and gas.  Right, so we went to the gas station, and I asked the guy if he knew anything about it.  No, he never drove a car in his life.  He rides a bike.  Fuck.  Well, I went back to the pump.  It would only put 3 gallons in the tank.  Fuck again.  We had driven 150 miles since our last fill-up, and we could only put 3 gallons back in the tank.  We could be in dire straits if that kept happening.  We talked about replacing the car in Helena, keeping spare gas in the tank, no idea what to do.  When we finally got data service, I looked it up online.  Sure enough, overfilling the tank like that can fuck up the sensor, which meant two things.  First, the gauge would constantly register as full.  Second, since the tank would think it’s full, we would have trouble properly filling up the tank.  We were probably going to have to replace it in Helena.  I did not relish that thought.

Anyway, there were four stamps to collect in the Park, and I had to do a few other things to make the Park Official.  We did it all, we got all four stamps, and we had some great vistas along the way.  When we got to the Jenny Lake area, we did our little nature walk, and that was where I lit up my Punch, the first Cuban of the trip.  We had about an hour there, which gave us plenty of time to walk and enjoy the views.  We got back in the car, hit the last VC, discussed how we would literally just have to keep track in our heads of how much gas was left in the tank, calculating how much we put in and how much we’ve driven.  We then made our way north along US-89 towards Yellowstone, and I proceeded to write this entry en route, which I will now close, as it looks like our estimated arrival time of slightly after 8 PM will be on point.  Tomorrow’s the big day, though I’m sure I’ll write again from the hotel.

Old Faithful, Wyoming (Yellowstone National Park)

Well, here we are.  A year ago today, I was writing from Glacier Bay National Park, now Yellowstone National Park.  Two years ago today, in Edmonton.  Three years ago today, I was in New York.  However, for four Independence Days now, I will be at a US or Canadian World Heritage Site.  2012, we did our first cave tour at Mammoth Caves National Park.  2013, I did my epic drive up to Wood Buffalo National Park in Canada, and I did my first little walk there around 11 PM.  2014, we did our boat tour of Glacier Bay National Park.  2015, tomorrow, we will do our big tour of Yellowstone National Park, Stamps and Plaques.  That’s what July 4^th has been about to me for four years running now.  It’s funny, last year, July 3^rd, everything went perfectly, except for the Stamps and Plaques.  This year, everything somehow has seemed to go wrong, except for the Stamps and Plaques.  I was five for five on Stamps today, and we are saving the Plaque for tomorrow.  Tonight, I will enjoy the peaceful tranquility of our cabin in this wooded area as I sit outside enjoying my cigar and bourbon, just as I did three years ago.  I still have a shot or two of that bourbon left from Kentucky.  If everything goes well this trip, defined quite simply as “Mainland US Complete” and “Canadian Prairie Complete,” I will celebrate with the rest of that bourbon when I get home.

I cannot begin to describe the tranquility beauty of where I am, nor can my cell phone camera capture the view of the moon and stars.  I will not even try.  It has been a very long day, and we have another long day ahead of us, so I will be brief.  I intend to crash literally the second I finish my cigar and bourbon.  After I closed, we were soon at the Old Faithful Inn.  One small problem, our cabins were at the Old Faithful Lodge, not the Old Faithful Inn.  We had to drive back around a little, but we got everything sorted, took our ceremonial pictures with Old Faithful, and discussed dinner logistics.  I wanted to eat at the Snow Lodge, in no small part because that was the only place to get Wi-Fi, and I had pretty much been off the grid all day, except for a few small pockets of service.  The meal was slow and disappointing, though the sausages were really good.  I think the Diet Coke and bread was the best part of the meal.  I also got a huckleberry cheesecake to go.

After dinner, we walked back to our cabin, and I tried to set up the fan.  I tried to put into a window, which caused the screen to fall out, and as I tried to grab the fan, the wire knocked over my new coffee mug, destroying it beyond repair.  Fuck.  Well, nothing to be done about it.  I went outside to fix the screen and then came back inside.  I figured out the logistics for the next two days, the most efficient way to get my Plaque tomorrow and get every stamp before we left.  I reviewed it with my mother, who was pleased with the minimal amount of driving my optimization entailed.  We then parted ways to our separate rooms, and I lit up a VSG and poured myself some bourbon.  I had to go to the bathroom, and, without getting too graphic, I soon felt a dampness around my feet.  It was nothing from my body.  No, the bottom of the toilet was leaking.  I wiped it up with towels best I could, but my pajama bottoms were soiled with a gray liquid, which I severely hoped did not contain any bodily fluids.  I washed my feet and rinsed the feet of my pajama bottoms.

After everything was sorted, I went outside with my cigar, bourbon, and chair, where I proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can get some sleep.  Tomorrow’s the big day, as it always is on July 4^th.  I think next July 4^th I will be in Nova Scotia, 2017 in Newfoundland, getting the WHS there.  I am absolute loving this July 4^th Plaques and Stamps thing.  I have no idea what I’ll do starting in 2018.  Maybe back to watching the fireworks locally, since nothing will be able to top these six Independence Day adventures.

TLGSRTA - Day 0 - This Is It

The Last Great Summer Road Trip Adventure

7/2/15, "This Is It"

John F. Kennedy International Airport, New York (JFK)

As my mother and I sit at Kennedy, preparing to embark on our last great summer road trip adventure, just like the ones we used to take when I was in grade school, it would be easy to reflect on what has changed in the past fifteen years, both in our lives and in the world, but that is not what this entry will be about.  No, this entry will be about something else entirely.  This is it, the big one, the last great summer road trip adventure.  We have been talking about this trip for fifteen years.  We did all the great trips, Grand Canyon and the surrounding Parks, Tennessee and the surrounding states, the Great Lakes, California, the Pacific Northwest.  We saw it all.  We never got around to doing this one.  Whether we just ran out of summers before I went to NYU or if we never wanted to deal with the difficult logistics, whatever it was, we never got out there.

Now, here we are, on our way to Yellowstone National Park.  It is not just going to be Yellowstone.  It will be Grand Teton, Yellowstone, and Glacier National Parks.  More than five days together, the longest trip the two of us have ever taken alone together, my father being unable to join us.  It’s not just a jaunt to Yellowstone, like our jaunt to Acadia two years ago.  No, it’s our last great summer road trip adventure.

After I drop her off at the airport on Wednesday, I will then continue across the Canadian Prairie, visiting sites in Alberta, Saskatchewan, and Manitoba, before flying home in ten days.  It is the last great summer road trip adventure.  After this trip, there will literally not be a single site left in the continental U.S. that is worth taking a vacation day to visit.  Sure, I will take a day off for my brother’s wedding, which is a month from today, and I’ll visit Crater Lake National Park while I’m there.  What else is left?  Places like Congaree National Park and Port Chicago Naval Magazine National Memorial?  Hardly worth getting on the airplane to see those sites.

This is it.  The last great summer road trip adventure.  At the end of this year, I will be doing my big Asia trip, but no driving.  Next summer, Rio, again, no driving.  At the end of 2016, Australia, which will include some driving, maybe, but not much, mostly flying.  Summer 2017 trips, while they will be numerous and epic, none of them will include significant amounts of driving.

No, this is it.  The last great summer road trip adventure.  In the fifteen years we discussed and planned it, we never realized how big of a deal it would be, that we were quite literally saving the best for last.  In a few days, we will be standing in front of the Plaque at Glacier National Park, and I will utter the words that will bring a tear to my eye: “Mainland US Complete.”  There is no one else in the world I’d rather have standing next to me when I say those words.  Why?  Because no one else in the world fully understands the meaning behind those words.  It will be over two years before I go to Hawaii and complete my travel goals, but, for this trip, the last great summer road trip adventure, Mainland US Complete will be a great thing to say.

As for Day 0, well it’s been quite an adventure.  Connor came over last night, crashing on my floor again.  He was still there in the morning.  He has in own key, which is fine, since he is one of the few people in the world I trust absolutely.  We said our goodbyes, and I went to the office.  It was an extremely stressful day, rushing to get everything out before I left.  To make matters worse, I dropped my phone, and the screen broke, so I had to fix it during my lunch break, the stress of which left me with neither the appetite nor time to get lunch.  When it was time to leave work at 3:30 PM, I hurried to Hop Won for what served as my pre-departure lunch.  My usual guy was there and asked about my suitcase.  I told him about my trip and that I wouldn’t see him for a couple of weeks.  I talked about all the details and answered his questions.  Although I was tight for time, I was glad to engage him in conversation.  He’s practically a friend, I’ve known him that long and see him that frequently.  However, time did takes its toll, and I had to place my order.

After I scarfed down an egg roll and some spare ribs, I lit up a Cohiba and headed to the cigar store.  Raymond and Connor were there, having finished watching a movie or two at my apartment.  The car service called to say they had a flat tire, just as my mother arrived.  There was much chaos and confusion, and people were giving me cigars.  It was really confusing.  My mother introduced herself to Connor, not having met him before and exchanged greetings with Raymond while I was in the humidor.  Eventually I said my goodbyes, and we caught a cab.  My computer was having issues, which messed up my work stuff, which further led to more stress.  Eventually, we got through security, and I was plugged in by my gate with two hours before my flight.  I worked for an hour or so and then proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close, as we are about to board and embark on our last great summer road trip adventure.  This is it.

Maine 2015 - Day 2 - Icons

6/28/15, “Icons”

New York, New York

I suppose that I need to go to Katz’s Deli for either lunch or dinner tomorrow.  When I decided to take this trip to Maine, which would mark the third year in a row that I have gone to Maine for the first weekend of the summer.  I see no reason why this will not be an ongoing annual tradition.  When I began to plan the trip, I literally had no idea what I wanted to see.  I just knew I wanted to be in Maine this weekend.  Probably at the top of my list was visiting my old friend.  I wound up planning the trip around visiting him.  Then I remembered that checklist I was trying to complete of the most iconic restaurant in each state.  Well, I knew that I could easily check off New Hampshire, Maine, and Massachusetts on this trip.  That became the focus of my trip.

One thing led to another and I put everything together Thursday night after I got back from the movies.  In other words, from the time I planned the trip to the time I left, I did nothing but sleep and work (and eat).  I did not chart out any itineraries or print any directions or anything.  I just found the three restaurants and came up with the order in which I needed to do everything, no schedule.  This is in complete contrast to the way I usually travel.  The restaurant in New Hampshire was part of an inn, the oldest inn in New Hampshire.  The restaurant in Maine was a lobster shack near Portland.  The restaurant in Massachusetts, the oldest restaurant in America, was in Boston.  Hmm, how did I put that all together?

I believe my reader has already witnessed most of the voyage, but I will recap.  I drove up to Augusta after work on Friday, saw the State House in the morning, met my friend in the afternoon, and went to the hotel in New Hampshire for dinner, and that was where I spent the night.  Today, I would jet back across, having lunch at the Lobster Shack, get my brochure in Saugus, visit my Aunt, have dinner at the Oyster House in Boston, drive back to New York, stop at Sleepy Hollow, drop my travelling companion off at a subway station in the Bronx, drop off the car at the rental station, and be back at my apartment by midnight, if all went well.  Of course, all did not get well, and I suppose some details are in order.

The thing about this list of “most iconic” restaurants is that it’s not the list of the restaurant that serves the best food.  It’s something more.  I knew going on, the goal wasn’t to find the best lobster in Maine, the best oysters in Massachusetts or the best steak in New Hampshire.  No, it had more to do with the atmosphere and the history.  Each restaurant succeeded there, more than making up for what they may have lacked in food quality, not that that the food was bad.  Last night’s dinner was delicious portions of meat, and the breakfast was even better.  High quality breakfast meats and eggs, including sausage that tasted better than any breakfast sausage I’d ever had, complimented a perfect blueberry pancake.  It was everything that breakfast should have been, and doubt it had changed in the past 200+ years.  Why bother changing it?  Bacon and eggs are the perfect breakfast foods.  Why mess with it?

We hit the road, heading straight across to Portland, where I would be getting lunch at the Lobster Shack on Cape Elizabeth.  It was touted as Maine’s best lobster roll.  Reader, if you have ever been to Maine, you should know that any place that claims or is claimed to have the state’s best lobster does not.  You know where you get the best lobster roll in the state?  The little roadside shack with no more than two people in front of you in line, where there are picnic tables out front and garbage tables in the back.  They serve the best ice cream in the state, too.  They don’t brag about having the best lobster rolls or the best ice cream in Maine.  Why not?  Because the shack 30 miles down the road also has the best lobster rolls in the state, and the shack 50 miles down the road also has the best ice cream in the state.  Why don’t they say they have the best?  Because the locals know where to find these shacks without checking a list put out by an internet magazine.  They just drive until they get hungry and stop at the next one, and it is always amazing.  That’s the way life should be.  An overcrowded and overpriced touristy spot does not have the best anything.  It is, however, the most iconic.

It had been raining all morning, and I knew it was the kind of rain that doesn’t stop anytime soon.  I smoked another Las Calaveras as we drove, listening to the soundtrack albums from Tangled, Hercules, and Mulan, and I was starving by the time we arrived.  Of course it was still raining, which meant that sitting outside was not advisable, and the inside was extremely crowded.  As soon as I set foot outside of the car, I could smell the ocean.  I ordered far more food than was necessary, but it was all delicious, and the interior seating area certainly lead to the iconic description.  I got a lobster roll, of course, along with fries, a clam cake, a Diet Coke, and a blueberry pie.  Maine at its most iconic.  It was good, but something called the best lobster roll in Maine should not just be good.  It should be great.  It was not great.  Breakfast was great.  The lobster rolls and ice cream I’ve had at roadside shacks were great.  This was just good.

After lunch, I lit up a VSG and got back on the road.  I had told my aunt I would be there at 4 PM.  We had gotten a late start, and my GPS was now showing an arrival time at Saugus Iron Works at 4 PM, which meant that I would not get to her place until close to 5 PM.  We hit traffic, and it was 4:30 PM by the time we arrived at Saugus.  Saugus Iron Works NHS has been my white whale, the last NPS in New England that I needed to hit.  It is only open during the summer season, as I learned the first time we (my parents and I) attempted to visit it.  My mother and I returned last summer, but they didn’t have any brochures.  They still didn’t have the brochures when I went to Maine last October.  I was half expecting them to still not have them.  They had them, and I went to stamp my brochure.  The stamp did not come out right.  Well, fortunately, they had plenty of brochures.  I got another one and stamped it right this time.  I took a few pictures and lit up a Cohiba before returning to the parking lot, announcing, “New England Complete, for real this time.”

It was close to 5 PM, and my aunt would only be able to host us until 6 PM.  I made a wrong turn, and it was 5:30 PM by the time I got to my aunt’s place.  My cousin, my favorite cousin, a girl I’ve loved for practically as long as I’ve known her, was not there, and I was quite disappointed, as I had not seen her since a year ago, during my last June Maine trip.  Fortunately, I’d be seeing her and most of the extended family at my brother’s wedding in five weeks.  With not much time to spare, my aunt and I got down to business, discussing the recent family feud.  I will not air my family’s dirty laundry in public, but, as always, she provided good insight.  I did not agree with the advice she was offering, but it was good insight.  She spoke in code at times to avoid keying in my travelling partner to the details, not that I minded if he knew, but my aunt and I are both smart enough that we had no trouble instantly catching each other’s hidden meanings and the concrete facts behind her abstractions.

During a recent trip, I wrote about how I consider myself a servant of truth, so it should be clear how much I hate being lied to.  It should be even clearer that, at the top of the list of lies I hate the most are lies that people tell me to spare my feelings.  I can handle the truth.  Don’t lie to me because you don’t want to hurt my feelings.  She instead tried to get me to see the nobility in someone lying to spare your feelings.  Bullshit.  Truth comes first.  My feelings are secondary to that.  I understand that not everyone feels that way.

We said our goodbyes, and then I went to McDonald’s, where my travelling companion got his dinner.  I had realized that my original plan for the return journey simply would not work, so I decided instead that we would go straight from Boston to the car rental place in North White Plains and take the train home directly from there.  I drove into Boston, again making a wrong turn, the GPS, as always, being so unclear in Boston.  I was starving when I got there, but I saw a familiar plaque.

Wait, this was a National Historic Landmark?  Just a year ago, my mother and I went on a quest to visit a large quantity of NHLs in Boston in one day.  We did it by neighborhood, and this was in one of the neighborhoods we hit, just a couple of blocks away from other NHLs we hit.  How did we not include this?  No matter, it was better this way, since now I could eat here, though we could have had lunch there during our quest last year.  This place, the Union Oyster House, touted itself as the oldest restaurant in America.  It did not advertise, “The best oysters in Boston,” though Daniel Webster used to eat massive quantities of oysters here.  I went inside and asked for a table.  I was told that the wait for a table was over an hour.  Seriously?  I started to walk out.  She said that if I wanted lighter fare I could eat downstairs.

Well, wasn’t the downstairs the more iconic part?  It was.  I looked at the menu.  All the most iconic foods were on that menu.  Perfect.  I saw down at a table and looked at the menu.  I ordered a clam chowder, grilled oysters, and clams casino.  Again, it was good, not great.  However, it was about the atmosphere, and I was not disappointed.  After my meal, I hit up the gift shop.  I bought two beer glasses (one for myself, one for my friend, the only friend I regularly buy travel gifts for anymore, the friend I love the most), a keychain, and a replica of the restaurant.  Yes, they had a little ceramic model of the building.  Well, it’s an NHL, and a replica of an NHL is an automatic buy for me.

I then went outside, to take my pictures.  However, my phone was at 5%, and it needs to be at 6% to take a picture.  Charging it back up was a process.  Also, since this was an NHL, it means that it needs a cigar for an Official picture.  I wanted to just smoke one cigar for the whole drive, so I lit up my biggest cigar, a Canones, which I knew would last two hours or more.  I took my pictures, and we hit the road.  I was dead tired with about an hour left to the destination, and Sleepy Hollow no longer became advisable.  Again, no music.  It got to the point where I lost confidence in my driving abilities, that’s how I tired I was, so we stopped at the next rest station, even though we were only 45 minutes from our destination.  I got some coffee and a donut, and I rested my eyes before I gassed up and cleaned the car.  I didn’t light up another cigar, opting instead to air out the car for the last segment of the drive.

The train was at 11:59 PM, and we got there with more than half an hour to spare.  The train was late, but an express train came around 12:05 AM, getting us to Grand Central around 12:45 AM.  I was at my apartment before 1 AM, where I cracked open one of the blueberry beers I had bought in Maine, which is quite an interesting beer, lit up my Sunday Dunhill Nightcap, and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close along with closing this trip.  It was a good trip, and it is one I am eager to repeat, though perhaps with a different travelling companion.  Next stop: Salt Lake City whence my mother and I will embark on our big summer trip to Grand Teton, Yellowstone, and Glacier National Parks before I explore the Canadian Prairie.

Maine 2015 - Day 1 - Old Friends

6/27/15, “Old Friends”

Hancock, New Hampshire

Here I am sitting outside at New Hampshire’s oldest inn.  It was established in 1789, the same year that George Washington became the first President of the United States, the same year the Constitution took effect.  Yesterday’s entry focused a lot on my political views and very little on my travels.  Today will be the opposite.  I made this trip to relax in Maine and to eat at three of New England’s most iconic restaurants, not to debate same-sex marriage.  However, sitting here at this historic inn, I cannot help but think how the Framers of the Constitution would have thought.

There was no debate on same-sex marriage in 1789.  Gays were considered evil or diseased or whatever.  However, I firmly believe that if John Hancock lived today, he would support same-sex marriage.  He would laud the decision of any state legislature that allowed same-sex marriages.  I do not, however, believe he would have allowed it as a right guaranteed by the Federal Constitution.  That said, there would have been rational debate on the issue.  If our framers were alive today and allowed to make a ruling, I'm inclined to believe that they would have overwhelming supported same-sex marriage as a legal right.  I'm inclined to believe that they would have dismissed the religious zealots who call homosexuality a sin.  I'm inclined to believe that they would have understood the science of today and made the right decision.

Times change, and views can change with it.  New facts come to light, the general views change, and society evolves.  People reexamine their beliefs and look at things in new ways.  If that was not the case, rational debate would not be the profitable activity it is.  My views on the issue have certainly changed over time.  They changed when I went to NYU and encountered gay men for the first time in my life.  They changed when I engaged in open discussions about sexuality.  They changed when I realized that homosexuality was not a joke to be made in a high school cafeteria.  They changed again when I fell in love with a lesbian, when I realized that, even if we could never date, she was the most wonderful person in the world, when I realized that she was someone I would do anything for.  They changed again yesterday morning when I read Kennedy’s Opinion.  People are entitled to make these changes, and John Hancock would think differently about these issues in 2015 than he would have in 1789.

This kind of rational debate is what was missing from this issue, and that was what so bothered me.  A fervent defense of same-sex marriage became the hottest issue on the liberal agenda, while condemnation of it became the backbone of the Christian Right.  Where was the middle ground?  Surely there were people who felt the middle ground and were too afraid to express that viewpoint without being attacked by both sides.  Not everyone can express their thoughts and feelings as eloquently as I.  Instead, they chose to remain silent, leading to a lack of debate, causing the issue to be decided by fiat instead of legislative reform.

It bothered me from the first federal court case where a district court ruled a Florida state law unconstitutional, and it bothered me as same-sex marriage became legalized in an additional 17 states in the same fashion.  It bothered me to such an extent that I could segregate my views on this lack of proper jurisprudence from my opinions on the merit of same-sex marriage.  It bothered me so much that I found myself opposed to same-sex marriage, hoping that the Supreme Court would overturn the federal court decisions that legalized same-sex marriage in 18 states.  That all changed when I read Kennedy’s Opinion.  How many other people changed their mind when they read his Opinion?  Too few I’m inclined to say because too few people examined this issue from a rational perspective, and that is a very unfortunate thing.

Alright, enough of this, and I have had a very interesting day of travel.  This is a Travelogue, and I will return my focus to my travels, but it is cold out here, and my laptop is dying, so I will head back inside before I continue.

Okay, I woke this morning slightly before 8 AM to a familiar chirp from my phone, indicating I had received a text message.  I knew who it was without having to look.  She is the only person who would text me before 8 AM on a Saturday and, more importantly, the only person whose texts I would answer before 8 AM on a Saturday.  The content of the discussion (the new Pixar movie) is not important.  What is important is that she is an old friend.  That is what the theme of this entry will be.  The thing about old friends is, friendships fade for a variety of reasons, but, when you reconnect with an old friend, it is like the lost years never happened.  Why does that happen?  Well, it’s quite simple, the friendship works now for all the reasons it worked before it faded away.

This particular friendship faded because of geography.  We reconnected over lunch nine months ago when we found ourselves in the city on the same day for the first time since we parted ways three years ago.  We instantly bonded at that lunch, and we have now been in constant communication, about our favorite movies, music, travels, whatever we find that bonds us.  It is a friendship that works.  That’s the key thing about any friendship, any relationship.  It doesn’t matter why it works.  It’s just important that it works.

One such text exchange we had yesterday was a few texts about the same-sex marriage ruling.  I had held off texting her about it, even though I was reading every word because, to be perfectly honest, I wasn’t sure how she felt about it.  I know she comes from a religious upbringing and has deeply set conservative political values.  I also knew that she has libertarian leanings, that she is one of the most compassionate people I know, and that I could not her imagine feeling hatred towards any group of people for who they are.

I got my answer in the form of an excited text with several rainbow emojis.  Oh, did I mention she’s also one of the biggest Harry Potter I know, that she practically worships J.K. Rowling?  I’m not sure if my reader is familiar with Rowling’s political views, but when it comes to equality and LGBTQ rights and same-sex marriage, there is no greater ally in the world than Rowling.  I began to wonder if perhaps my friend had once been opposed to same-sex marriage, only to be swayed by Rowling’s impassioned defense of it.

I began to wonder how many people Rowling had influenced, how many people Rowling had turned from prejudice to acceptance.  It’s probably a very large number, and, if my friend was in that group, it made me very happy.  I could be wrong.  She might have always been a supporter of same-sex marriage, but I guarantee there are plenty of people who have been swayed by Rowling.  In fact, I’d wager Rowling has changed more minds on the issue than anyone else in recent history.  Isn’t that a wonderful thing?  That a celebrity who is loved by her fans would use that to steer her fans away from prejudice and towards tolerance, acceptance, or even support.  It was a happy thought.

After I finished getting ready this morning, we headed down for a disappointing breakfast spread at the Hampton Inn, lacking compared to what I am used to seeing when I stay at a Hampton Inn.  The coffee was good, though.  We finished getting ready and headed to the State House and Museum.  I was pleasantly surprised to find a gift shop, where I procured a flag pin and a couple of keychains, before we headed to the State House to take our pictures.

I then lit up a Four Kicks, and we made our way from Augusta to Norway where my old friend was awaiting our arrival.  It had been at least a year since I had seen him, and we instantly reconnected.  It is funny how many of my old friends I met through the autograph collecting.  The friend who texted me this morning, the friend we were visiting, my travelling companion, the guy I have been constantly messaging about Game of Thrones theories, all of them I met through autographing.  All of them, I formed a bond when we met, lost touch with for a while, and was easily able to reconnect for the same reasons we had a bond when we first met.

He was renting a house and old dairy farm, the combined size of which was approximately 10,000 times the size of my apartment.  His rent was less than mine.  He gave us the scenic tour, and it was like I literally stepped into a different era.  Rustic, that’s the best word to describe it.  It looked like such a peaceful place to live.  “The Way Life Should Be” is Maine’s motto.  I have always felt that way, possibly never more so than this afternoon.  We then headed to lunch to a new restaurant he wanted to try.  From his description, it seemed like a chic new Italian place, but it just had traditional American food, burgers, chicken tenders, steaks, etc.  The portions were big, and we couldn’t finish everything.

Afterwards, we headed across the street to the waterfront, where we sat in a gazebo and enjoyed the scenery.  I lit up an Hoyo de Monterrey, which I had been saving for this occasion.  After the cigar was done, we went to the ice cream shack, since no trip to Maine could be complete without blueberry ice cream.  We had gotten so lost enjoying each other’s company, discussing celebrities and autographs, that the time had gotten away from us.  It was now becoming a tight schedule to get to hotel by 8 PM for the last seating at the restaurant.

Having dinner at the restaurant was the main reason I had chosen this hotel.  There is a list of the most iconic restaurant in each state.  I am trying to dine at each of those 51 restaurants.  If it were not for that list, we would have been staying in Portland tonight, instead of driving three hours to New Hampshire.  We returned to the house, and my friend told me that his wife should be home by then.  It occurred to me I had never even seen a picture of her.  Apparently, she does not like him to post pictures of her on Facebook.  She was there when we arrived, but it was hello and goodbye, since we needed to head to the hotel with all due speed.

As we drove, my travelling companion said that he could never live here, that it was too boring.  It was ironic, since I was having the exact opposite thought, how wonderful it would be to live here.  This was, quite literally, the way life should be.  I was so exhausted from the heat that I couldn’t even think about a cigar.  It was a three-hour drive, and I only smoked one cigar the entire drive, a Cabaiguan.  We got to the hotel with time to spare, and this was very much the historic inn I imagined.  In fact, they didn’t even have a free table at the restaurant, so they told us we could get settled in and come down at 8:15 PM for dinner.

The restaurant was certainly iconic, even if the menu was not, but I did my best to order what I imagined would pass for colonial fare.  I got a charcuterie appetizer, along with a local beer, and beef and lamb for my main course, both of which were too fatty.  I was too hungry to care, and I imagined that meat in colonial times was just as fatty.  I got a dessert for later and then went upstairs.  I soon went outside, enjoying the summer New England atmosphere, along with the historic Colonial feel of the neighborhood.  I responded to the email chain I had started with my father and his friends about the same-sex marriage decision and lit up an Avo.  I then proceeded to write this entry.  After my cigar, I headed up to the room, where I finished the entry which I will now close, as it is close to midnight, and I have long day of driving ahead of me tomorrow.

Maine 2015 - Day 0 - For the Children

6/26/15, “For the Children”

Augusta, Maine

I typically do not use this Travelogue to write about political issues, instead preferring to focus on philosophical themes that transcend the political issues of our day.  However, to ignore the events of today would be to ignore the very Zeitgeist.  In possibly its most significant ruling in years, the Supreme Court ruled this morning that State Legislatures cannot restrict marriage to being between a man and a woman.

I have worded that sentence in a very careful way, in contrast to the wording most news outlets have used.  Why?  Because, to me, that was the issue at hand.  The Tenth Amendment clearly states, “The powers not delegated to the United States by the Constitution, nor prohibited by it to the States, are reserved to the States respectively, or to the people.”  The wording is unambiguous.  Nowhere in the constitution does it give the federal government any powers in marriage laws, nor does it prohibit the States from passing laws defining marriage, as they have for over 200 years.  Marriage is clearly in the realm of the States.  Right?

The obvious challenge to that is the Fourteenth Amendment.  The relevant passage goes, “No State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.”  It is the equal protection clause that is at play.  Are same-sex couples being denied their equal right to marry?  Well, um, see, the thing is, couples don’t have rights.  Individuals have rights.  The question needs to be rephrased.  Are gays and lesbians being denied their right to marry?  No, of course not.  If laws were passed forbidding gays and lesbians from marrying, then it would be very different.

Okay, let’s ask a different question.  Are gays and lesbians being denied their right to marry the person they love?  Um, what right to marry the person you love?  I’m not sure that’s a right.  If an adult brother and sister were in love, they would not be legally allowed to marry.  Are they being denied their right to marry the person they love?  The same logic could be used to answer that question.  Is that the next step?  To allow adult incestuous couples to marry seems the next logical step, yes?  To be clear, I am not supporting the Rick Santorum argument, “If the Supreme Court says that you have the right to consensual sex within your home, then you have the right to bigamy, you have the right to polygamy, you have the right to incest, you have the right to adultery. You have the right to anything.   Whether it's polygamy, whether it's adultery, whether it's sodomy, all of those things, are antithetical to a healthy, stable, traditional family.”  I am arguing from the opposite direction.

Note that, at this point, I have very carefully avoided giving my opinion on any of this.  I am simply presenting the relevant arguments, as I see it.  See, the problem is, there is no debate on these issues.  On one side are the mostly conservative religious extremists who believe homosexuality is a sin and oppose gay marriage for that reason.  On the other side are the mostly liberal gay rights supporters who attempt to ostracize anyone who says anything that might be construed as slightly homophobic.  There is practically no middle ground, and there is no debate, just both sides ranting and raving.  Any policy issue, and same-sex marriage is absolutely a policy issue, needs to be debated in an open and constructive environment.  That debate has never happened on this issue, and with today’s ruling, the Supreme Court has prevented the possibility of debate on this issue.  Still haven’t given my opinion yet, intentionally so.

As I see it, there are actually three questions here.  The first, should same-sex couples get married?  The second, should same-sex couples have a legal right to get married?  The third, do same-sex couples have a constitutional right to get married?  (I am condensing language here, meaning “individuals in a same-sex relationship” where I write “same-sex couples.”)  Okay, so, the problem is, those are three very distinct questions, which people should answer differently.  Why, then, would almost everyone answer each of those three questions either all yes or all no.  Where are the people who say, “Same-sex marriage sickens me, it is a sin against god, but, unfortunately, the constitution says same-sex couples have the right to get married”?  Where are the people who say, “I’m gay, and I love my boyfriend, but I just can’t see anything in the constitution that says the State Legislatures can’t define marriage as between a man and a woman.”  You never hear those positions presented, and you don’t hear it because there really is no debate on the issue.  All you hear is the two sides shouting their answers to the first question, calling the other side sinners or bigots, and letting their answers to the second two questions being defined by their answer to the first question.

Reader, have I made it clear at this point how I see the issue?  Now, what is my stance?  How do I answer those three questions?  The first two questions are easy.  I have two female friends who are romantically interested in women, coincidentally both have the same name.  One has a girlfriend, whom I recently had the pleasure of meeting.  How could I possibly say in good conscience that, if they decide they want to spend the rest of their lives together, that they shouldn’t get married?  To do so would be to say, “I don’t approve of your relationship,” which, in turn, means, “I don’t approve of you.”  The two friends I mentioned, I love them both very dearly, and I love them for who they are.  To say that I don’t approve of them would in turn mean that I don’t love them, and that is completely opposite to what I just said.  So, my answer to the first question is that same-sex couples, who choose to get married, should absolutely do so.  The second question is even easier.  I am a staunch libertarian.  I do not want the government telling people who they can and cannot marry.  In fact, I don’t want the government to have anything to do with marriage.  Marriage should be a private contract between two individuals, and it should not need to be sanctioned by the government.

Now, the third question is so much more complicated.  Do same-sex couples have a constitutional right to get married?  I have always favored a strict interpretation of the Constitution, and I think I have explained in the opening of this entry why a strict interpretation of the Constitution does not support a constitutional right for same-sex marriage.  This entry, as I have just written it, is exactly how I would have written it when I woke up this morning.  When the Supreme Court issued its Opinion this morning, I was not sure what to think.  My immediate reaction was that it was a great victory for gay rights at the expense of the destruction of our Constitution, but I knew that I had to read the whole Opinion before I could figure out what my opinion was.  As I read it, I was basically thinking to myself, “Alright, Kennedy, give me a reason why your interpretation of the Constitution is correct and mine is wrong.”  He did not.

However, he did one better.  He gave me a reason to favor a liberal interpretation of the Constitution.  “Without the recognition, stability, and predictability marriage offers, children suffer the stigma of knowing their families are somehow lesser,” he wrote.  “The laws at issue thus harm and humiliate the children of same-sex couples.”  Oh, crap.  I never thought about it that way.  How could we possibly tell a child that the reason his parents can’t get married is because a document written over 200 years ago does not prevent a State from defining marriage as being between a man and a women.  Tell that to a child with two moms.  Go ahead.  That was a serious thing.  Reader, if you are continuing to oppose same-sex marriage go explain to a child of a same-sex couple why his parents can’t get married.  No?  You don’t want to.  Or are you in the civil union camp?  Allow civil unions with equal rights as marriages?  Okay, go tell a child why parents are only allowed to have something called a “civil union,” but his friends’ parents have a “marriage.”  How is that not a stigma to the child?  So, what’s my opinion on all of this?  We must allow same sex-couples the legal right to get married.  Not, they should have the legal right.  They must have that right.  Why?  For the children.

Alright, why have a spent so much writing about same-sex marriage in a Travelogue.  Not because it is the defining issue of our time.  No, because it was the biggest news story of the day, so much so that it dominated all of my social media feeds today.  While I communicated privately with a few people about it, I carefully avoided posting anything about to social media, instead opting to save my thoughts for this entry.  I had to wake up early since I wanted to leave early.  I quickly packed and rushed to make it to work by 7:37 AM.  I went for my traditional pre-departure lunch at Hop Won, bought some cigars for the trip, and finished up at work, heading down to meet Pablo.  We got our tickets and took the train up to North White Plains.  I had reserved a full-size car, which is called by the car industry a mid-size, and it felt like the smallest car I had ever driven.

I put on Red and lit up my Nic Toro, which I hadn’t smoked in quite some time, maybe not in over two months, since this was the first time I have driven in over two months, I have realized.  Of course, we got stuck in traffic, and a trip to McDonald’s proved quite a detour.  All in all, we lost well over an hour, showing an arrival time past midnight.  After dinner, I switched to Taylor’s eponymous 2006 album and lit up an Aging Room, which also lasted into much of Fearless.  I smoked a Las Calaveras for Speak Now.

It was a long and boring drive, 11 PM by the time we got to the all-too-familiar border sign to Maine.  I rounded out the Taylor collection by listening to 1989 without a cigar, and I finished up the drive with an Avo, listening to the first half of Les Miz.  It was not long before we got to the hotel, checked in, got coffee, and headed upstairs, where I lit up a Prensado and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can publish and get to sleep.