Day 6

We woke up around 9 this morning with the threat of a 10 o’clock checkout time. This, however, was not too strict since there were only a handful of people in the park this early in the season. There was a puddle of water sitting on top of the rainfly. It was not raining now, but it had overnight and those cement blocks now were very useful. We used the bathrooms and cleaned up as best we could. Suzanne and I were invited to dinner tonight by some of Suzanne’s friends from last year so we wanted to look somewhat presentable.

Because we drove all the way out here, I was determined to see something while we were here. So we drove to the Park Loop Road and up to the 1,530-feet summit of Cadillac Mountain, the highest peak on the Atlantic coast. Once at the top, it was a lot windier, which made it much cooler. I was one of the few wearing shorts—most people had jackets on. There was some Corvette show up here, there were about a dozen Corvettes parked in the parking lot. We walked around on the small loop trail that encircled the summit. It was so windy though that we didn’t stay too long. I don’t think I even took a picture.

Soon we were on our way. Today we would have to make some serious time. We wanted to get to Saxtons River in order to meet Suzanne’s friends for dinner. We headed off the island, past all the tourist attractions that line the entrance road to the park. Once in Ellsworth it was about noon, so rather than take US 1, we jumped on US 1A which goes northwest to Bangor and I-95. We stayed on 95 for the rest of the trip through Maine. It was about 180 miles from Bangor to the New Hampshire border.

Once we made it to New Hampshire, we were hungry. We really hadn’t eaten yet today, so we started looking. Suzanne saw a Burger King but I don’t like that place so she was nice enough to wait for a place that would make us both happy. I was looking for a Wendy’s but would have settled for anything if we didn’t find something soon. We got off I-95 and onto NH 101 just before the toll. This is a road with absolutely nothing on it. Just trees—no strip malls, no houses. Not until we got to Manchester did we see any sign of civilization. We finally ate and soon we were back on the road and heading for Milford.

As we were driving away from the outskirts of Milford, and the road was beginning to open up, we had a slight delay. As we were merrily rolling along, driving toward us was the driver’s enemy—the constable on patrol, the local sheriff, a bluecoat, a copper, a flatfoot, the fuzz, the heat, insert your favorite 70s slang term here. I was driving noticeably fast and he picked up on that. So he turned around and flipped on the Christmas lights.

The last time I’d been pulled over was 1987; the outcome of that engagement was not a victory for the home team. Coincidentally, Suzanne was with me that day too. I was hoping today would not make the record 0-2. One thing I knew I had on my side was that there was no proof. The cop was relying on his eyes to judge my speed and I don’t think courts put too much merit in this. He approached the car and said, “Are you in a hurry, sir?” They always call you sir, what is the deal with that? I replied, “No, not particularly.” He said he was stopping me for doing 60 in a 40 mile per hour zone. I told him I didn’t think I was doing 60 but graciously handed over my license and registration. You have to say that to put up some sort of resistance, even if you were doing 65, you’re still not lying. He went to the cruiser and did the background check. All the while I was pretty confident that I would not be getting a ticket since he really had no proof. Minutes later he returned to inform me that he was not going to ruin my day, and that I should take it easy so as not to clip someone coming out of one of the many side streets ahead. He didn’t even write up a formal warning slip, just sent us on our way.

Don’t get me wrong, my attitude toward this kind of thing is not really as negative as it seems. I will admit that it was probably a good thing that we were stopped since it was wet and, at times, foggy and perhaps we were going too fast, although I always had control of the vehicle. If he’d decided to give us a ticket, I might have a different opinion, but he didn’t, so I look upon the incident favorably. Record: 1-1.

After our brief rest stop, we climbed into the mountains, the clouds, and the rain. Once in Keene, we stopped for a bathroom break and turned north on NH 12 which headed for the Connecticut River and Bellows Falls, the “big” town outside of Saxtons River. It seemed to take forever to get there knowing we were about 20 miles away. We crossed the river at Walpole, then went north on US 5 into Bellows Falls, Vermont. Now we were close. A few miles on VT 121 and we would be there.

As we pulled into the house where Suzanne was going to stay for the summer, we rolled out of the car and went in. Suzanne stayed here last year so this was a reunion for her while I was making my first impression with no shower and the staleness of driving all day. It was about 6:30 by now so we’d been driving for a long time. I was introduced to Mel (short for Melanie) whose house I’d be staying in tonight. Her kids, Emily and Austin were also here. Austin is about 6 or 8 years old and Emily is maybe 10 or 12. Austin became the doorman while we dumped our stuff in the house. Mel gave us the tour and told Suzanne where she would be sleeping for the rest of the summer.

The house is old, the type with a large front porch and huge trees adjacent. The inside is a delight. Because Mel is an artist, she fills the house with creativity. The decor is composed of her and her children’s artwork. There are many little things around the house tucked into corners and on surfaces. For example, the refrigerator is literally covered with things: pictures, drawings, magnets, etc. You can barely tell what color it is. The wooden spoon handles are all painted with designs and bright colors.

Suzanne called her friends Darryl and Stephanie, who invited us for dinner tonight, to see when they wanted us to come and tell us how to get there. Their daughter, Sarah, took a liking to Suzanne, as most kids do when performing with Suzanne in the theater.

We threw our stuff in Mel’s house and got back in the car (can you believe it) to drive to Bellows Falls where Darryl and Stephanie live. We arrived at their house and sat down at the kitchen table while Stephanie made dinner. We talked for a while, mainly about the upcoming theater season and last year’s season. We had fajitas for dinner and Dylan had macaroni, most of which ended up on his shirt, Dylan is probably about 2 or 3 years old. While we were eating, Mel dropped in with Suzanne’s roommate for the summer, Krystyne. She had picked her up from the bus stop in Bellows Falls and decided to drop by. They didn’t stay for dinner though.

After dinner we talked some more while watching Dylan. He was very active, running around with a paper bag on his head, dumping his basket of toys, and requesting that everyone try on this hideous Santa Claus mask. It looked like the type of mask that would bring fear into little children’s hearts rather than spread the joy of Christmas. I commented that Dylan is more entertaining than TV but I would imagine the enjoyment of the whole thing wears off quickly if you experience it 24/7.

After finally getting away, we drove back to Mel’s, where Mel, Krystyne, and Jamie (returning from last summer’s season) were talking at her kitchen table. We all talked for a while until Jamie had to go. Then Suzanne, Krystyne and I went up to their room to try and sort through all their stuff. They decided to take the bunk beds apart and move the furniture around that night. After the dust settled, I had a place to sleep on the floor among all the bags of clothes, shoes, etc. We went to bed around 1ish and they had to get up at 7:30 tomorrow morning for first rehearsal. Good luck.