Sep 23, 2008

Road Trip USA Fall 2008




Tuesday, September 23, 2008




Well, yes, I know it has been a very long time, but here we are now. Where, you ask? You can't tell from the picture? We're sitting on the deck of an adorable little cottage on the south shore of Lake Erie, about 40 miles east of Cleveland. It's one of those perfect fall days: clear, blue skies; no humidity, that special golden quality of the light; and because it's here on the lake, there's a brisk bit of breeze. I'm wearing a t-shirt under a long-sleeved cotton (from Mexico) shirt with a sweatshirt hoodie on top. I could go inside and be warmer, but then I wouldn't have this incredible view.


We left Mexico Thursday, September 11, leaving our house in Ajijic at 7:30 in the morning, crossing the border at Laredo about 8:30 that evening. Very easy trip since the highways are so good except for a little bit. That was over 700 miles. We left Daisy and Howdy at home for this trip because we have so many different stops, but our friend Tinker is taking very good care of them there. (Hi, Tinker!) I'm just hoping that they're behaving themselves. As we crossed the border into Texas, we had every intention of looking for a place to stop for the night within a couple of hours. But the border guard warned us that parts of I-10 east of Houston might be closed the next day due to the proximity of Hurricane Ike (avoiding him was the reason we had left Mexico a day earlier than planned). So, intent on getting as far as we could, we kept driving through the night. I was wide awake having consumed many bottles of my last Mexican Coca Light for awhile (That's Coca-Cola for those of you who are wondering just how depraved we've become), so we pushed through San Antonio and onto I-10. What a phenomenon we saw. In our east-bound lanes, there was very little traffic, but in the west-bound lanes the traffic was thick, steady but slow. There were many school buses, evacuating coastal residents we presumed, and many, many ambulances with lights flashing but no sirens--those we figured were evacuating hospital patients, and possibly the elderly from residential facilities. We reached our goal which was to be east of Houston and beyond the morning traffic snarl and stopped for the night. The first place--a Hampton Inn--was boarded up with a sign saying, closed for the hurricane. Luckily, there was a Confort Suites next door that was open, so we had a bed for what was left of the night.

The next day we set out across the rest of Texas and all of Louisiana, heading for Fairhope. Although the distance was much shorter than across Mexico, it took us about 12 hours because of delays, rerouting, and convoys of emergency vehicles. At one point, we counted a string of 28 ambulances headed west for Houston. This was Friday when Ike was scheduled for landfall that night. We were encouraged to see this kind of preparation, of course--a far cry from Katrina three years ago.

We had a great weekend in Fairhope with Corey, Candy, and Gaby. Candy was performing that weekend in a play in Mobile, so we saw flashes of her coming and going. Corey went to see the final performance, a matinee on Sunday, while we took on the onerous chore of babysitting Gaby. It was quite hot and humid, so we grabbed our bathing suits and headed to the beach by the pier in Fairhope on Mobile Bay. We took a picnic and had a wonderful time. Gaby ate grapes and green beans. She swam with her little vest on and declared that she was going to swim to Mexico. Bob pointed her in the right direction and wished her luck. Unfortunately, the current was against her. On Monday we did routine errands--applying for absentee ballots, renewing the car tags, etc. See Gaby swimming.

On Tuesday, September 16 (I think), we drove to Louisville to spend a few days with Melinda and Mark. They gave us our own space in the basement and we renewed our relationship with our old big screen TV there. Looking around their house is just like being home again: Oh, look at that picture; there's our old loveseat and recliner. We met up with our friends from Northern Ireland who exchanged houses with us in 2005, Rory and Maureen Hamilton. They were in KY for the Ryder Cup to see their best friends' son, Graeme McDowell, play. And, as the Irish and the Brits say, "He was brilliant!" We got to see old friends and colleagues from work. I had lunch with some of the faculty I used to work with, and they all made me feel very missed. Mark cooked some yummy dinners for us, and we went out a couple of nights as well, including a great evening with Pam and Steve in Shelbyville. Sunday we had a rare treat, going to a softball game with Mark and his friends. They played "brilliantly" as well, playing their second-best game ever, according to their star player/baseman/pitcher Mark. They lost only 22-2. Afterward, we celebrated the loss at their sponsor's bar in Germantown (a neighborhood in Louisville). Pics. Later, we met Rory and Maureen, Bruce (at whose house R & M stayed while in KY) and Joy at PF Chang's for dinner.

(OK--I'm almost up to date. Hang in there--just a wee bit more. That "wee" keeps sneaking into my vocabulary after a few days of hanging out with the Irish.)

Monday we said goodbye to M & M, wished her luck on her first anatomy & physiology exam (today--go Mel!), picked up Rory and Maureen at Bruce's house in Shelbyville, and set off for Ohio. Why Ohio? Well, a couple of months ago Rory and Maureen met up again with Vera Jean at Rory's Aunt Margaret's funeral in Wales. Aunt Margaret had been a sort of tutor/governess to Vera Jean whose father was a diplomat posted overseas, and VJ had stayed close to her and her family through the years. Anyway, when VJ heard that R & M (are you keeping up? Pay close attention.) were coming to KY for the Ryder Cup in September, she (VJ) kindly offered the use of her family's vacation cottage on Lake Erie, near a town called Geneva-on-the-Lake, about 40 miles east of Cleveland where VJ lives with her husband and two daughters. So, we loaded the cottage address into the GPS and arrived on the doorstep around 7 yesterday evening, just in time for a spectacular sunset over the western end of Lake Erie.
The cottage is on a slight bluff right on the lake with long steps down to the shore. Looking again this morning, I could see that the shoreline is buttressed with stacked rock, serving as a sort of seawall. There's a tiny strip of sand with some scattered pebbles, and I could see lots of pebbles on the lake floor where it's shallow. Then there seems to be an abrupt drop-off. We can see no shore to the west, east, or north. It's just like looking out onto the ocean. This is a small neighborhood of little cottages, mostly for summer use. I would imagine winters on this lake would be brutal. There are grassy lawns all around with lots of giant trees. There's not much sign of fall yet--just a hint of color in the occasional tree. As we left I-90 yesterday, we drove through the town of Geneva which is about 10 miles inland. It has a little downtown area, very well-preserved. You would swear you were driving through Bedford Falls from It's a Wonderful Life and Jimmy Stewart is going to pop out of the corner drugstore any minute. There's a very real sense of being in a time warp here from about 40-50 years ago.

The cottage is not very big. There are two small bedrooms and one very nice bath. The kitchen is big and well-stocked. Fireplace in the living room, enclosed sleeping porch/office, and beautiful deck overlooking the lake. Well, you can see in the picture. It's a lovely little place, very warm, welcoming, and cozy. And, there's wireless internet! Yay for me, the addict. Pics.

We'll be here for a few days, then drive to northern Virginia to visit Susannah and John. After that, back to Alabama for a few days, then back to Mexico. Stay tuned: I may be inspired to write again soon ...... or not.




Betty

1 comment:

Joan said...

I could very well be wrong, but in the far recesses of my brain I feel like Geneva-on-the-lake could be the town where we once had a vacation cottage with the Hellers. Bob would have been 3 or 4 at the time, this trip giving rise to the oft told tale of Bob mistaking the foot of cousin Jan's bed for the familiar KC toilet. Joan