48stateroadtrip.com

Just in case anyone from a big state wants an opportunity to say “well landsakes!”, I started the day in Maine, traveled through New Hampshire to get to Massachusetts, then went to Rhode Island before finishing up at my cousin’s place in Connecticut. Five states in one day — try *that* from Brownsville! Anyway:

They put their welcome sign behind a tree on the center median. Just how welcome did they want me to feel?!

Major thanks out to J-Bigs and Alexis for putting me up in New Haven. Dearly appreciated and your Indian restaurant was one of the best I’ve ever been to. And I’ve been to more than one, yes.

bkd

It took me a while to figure out where the mansions were. On my way to that discovery, I found the yacht club, yacht museum, and some fort that you had to take a tour to get into and that I therefore stayed outside of. Here’s a picture commemorating the yacht experience:

A lighthouse protects ships from hitting the right-side stanchion.

And because I don’t think either of them are that great, here’s another photo. I imagine if you take the decent aspects of both of these photos, they might add up to one all-right picture.

I like how everything other than the truck on the bridge is leading the viewer’s eye *away* from the frame.

Then I found the mansions. It was about 4:30 and they close up at 5, so I just stopped at the first one I came to on Bellevue Avenue, which turned out to be the Marble House and to look like this:

You’re not allowed to take photos inside.

It was designed and lived in by an ex-wife of some Vanderbilt. She was into women’s suffrage (that was the story they told about her inside the mansion) as well as inflicting suffering on women (she was apparently pretty awful to her daughter). She was also very, very tacky about her decorating decisions — basically like Hearst, but without *quite* the means. Versailles is so over-done. IMHO.

I imagine the other mansions are sort of similar. If they’re not, nobody tell me, otherwise I’ll feel like I have to go back some time. (Thx.)

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So, yes, the half-way state: Rhode Island.

My DSLR is not really well suited for this type of photography.

Per the requirement, I *did* stop off somewhere for clam chowder while there (New England white, not Rhode Island red) and also bought clam cakes, which were sort of gross (but I finished them). Experienced a great disappointment in Rhode Island: the #3 hamburger in the country is locked up inside a formal dining restaurant that’s closed from 2:30 to 5:30 — roughly the exact length of time I had available to be in Newport, R.I.

It’s okay — I don’t have a jacket with me on this trip anyway.

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It *is* readable, if you want it bad enough.

Almost to the half-way state. Kind of sad, actually. Then I’ll have to start planning next year’s trip. To celebrate being in Massachusetts, I went to a CVS and bough cold medicine. Probably should have stopped off in Alston to see my old apartment, but alas.

State over.

bkd

Big drivin’ day yesterday (like eight hours total), but I checked out some more Maine before high-tailin’ it out of there. Have I used “high-tailin'” recently? Seems too familiar somehow.

Oh, stayed the night in the Seven Mountains Motel in Rockport, Maine. It was like a classic 1960’s motel (park in front of your room, single-story, 15 or so units), but the couple that ran it sort of did it like it was a bed and breakfast. Jean and Norman were their names. Norman had an outstanding Maine accent. It was awesome, recommended.

Anyway, went to this lighthouse and took these two photos.

Birds near the lighthouse.

Lighthouse near the birds.

I was kind of expecting a grander lighthouse, but as it *does* sit near the water, I’m guessing this one’s effective at least.

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One thing’s sort of for-sure: I don’t get very excited about shorelines. I’m glad they exist, they don’t cause much harm, but, you know: meh. Shoreline. I took a picture of this one, though, in Maine, somewhere in Acadia National Park, which is located on Mt. Desert Island about half-way up the coast. Go:

It’s not like it’s an eye-sore, just that I’m not sure what you do with it besides look.

Anyway. Lady ranger at the visitor center also suggested, when prompted, I go on this hike to Mt. Sargent, which she described as the second-best hike in the park (I didn’t ask, I figured she knew what she was doing). In my short time in the region, I’ve developed a sort of love-hate thing with New England hikes an there was a lot of both on this one — but for a hike that had me swearing at the trail engineers for the entirety of a certain 30-minute stretch, this was a lot of fun and one I’d rank toward the top of the list. And I sort-of forgive it for being a 4.5-mile, 3.25-hour hike (that’s slow).

And the photos won’t show the fun parts so much, because it’s hard to take pictures of yourself while dangling off railings, climbing up wet granite on your hands and knees, or taking the downhill granite like a park whore parkour course (who knew?). Oh well.

For the information-hungry and per the ranger’s instructions, I took the Spring Trail to the Jordan Cliff Trail (the part with the ladders and rungs) to the East Cliff Trail (the part with the hands and knees) to the Mt. Sargent Summit to the South Ridge Trail to the Penobscot Mountain Summit to the Penobscot Trail (the parkour course) back to the Spring Trail. This was probably as dangerous a hike as I’ve done (largely because of the rain the night before — I imagine the footing’s pretty sure when the rocks are dry). It also wasn’t much of a tree prison. Excelsior.

Water trickling onto the trail.

Trees, holding on tight(ly).

The view of Jordan Pond from Jordan Cliff. The rung at bottom-right helps hikers not fall.

This is a ladder you must climb.

A stream crossing! And me without my poles.

Caterpillar: go!

Looking over the side of Mt. Sargent toward a bunch of little Maine islands in the Atlantic.

And they have cairns that look like this there.

View from the top.

Signs on Mt. Sargent.

The top of Mt. Penobscot.

Me, there.

Granite wall on the way back down.

Fun trail.

Part of what I don’t like about sea coasts is that, at least the ones I’ve been to on this trip, they’re crowded. The drive around the Acadia coast is silly with tour buses (that stop in the middle of one-lane roads) and even on a weekday at the end of September, there’s nowhere on the coast you’re going to be able to stand without having company. Big Sur and Oregon coasts felt the same way to me.

Pictured Rocks Lakeshore, though, I liked a lot. Maybe it’s just the crowds.

There’s also a lighthouse near Acadia (at the tip of the Mt. Desert Island peninsula), but it’s lame.

Dunn out.