West Virginia: Glass Blowing at Blenko

Blenko Visitor Center

9 Bill Blenko Rd.

Milton, WV 

In June of 2009 I had the opportunity to visit the Blenko Visitor Center in Milton, West Virginia with Cousin Peter and Aunt Joanne. 

In preparing for that particular road trip what struck me most about this particular glass factory was that one of the earliest pieces included the stained-glass windows for St. Patrick's Cathedral in New York City. I have been to that church countless times and spent an inordinate amount of time staring at those windows. I am not 100% sure that the current stained-glass windows in St. Pat's are the ones that were made by Blenko but nonetheless, glass fascinates me and just reading that they had such a big client like St. Pat's made me want to see this company's work up close.

The tour was self-guided and lasted about an hour for us. During the tour we were permitted us to watch the glassblowers at work before viewing an exhibit of  pieces produced by Blenko.

Pieces that do not meet the high level of quality expected by the artisans are broken down and the glass is reused. When the glass is broken down it is sorted by color into these stalls outside. 

Ultimately, the tour ends in the gift shop where there are tons of pieces you can chose to purchase.

Who doesn't need a glass ear of corn?

Everything was so beautiful. Glass is such an amazing medium to work in. If you have never seen someone blow glass before you should really consider checking out a factory like Blenko.

Mississippi: Longwood Plantation

Longwood Plantation

140 Lower Woodville Road

Natchez, MS

Some of you may recognize this house from the HBO television series True Blood. I don't watch the series myself but I understand it was used for some external shots.

Also known as Nutt's Folly, Longwood Plantation is an octagonal mansion which was built by Dr. Haller Nutt.  Its construction began in 1859, before the American Civil War, and thus it is referred to as antebellum architecture. Antebellum is Latin for pre-war.

The basement level of the house is very ornate but the upper floors of the house are unfinished. Construction began in 1859 but when the Civil War broke out in 1961 construction stopped. Dr. Nutt died before the end of the war leaving the construction incomplete.

In addition to touring the living quarters, unfinished construction, and viewing the ornate exterior of the home, you can stroll the grounds and visit the family cemetery on the property. Much worth the visit to see how the Civil War put a real halt to the prosperity of plantation life in the deep south.

Vermont: Ben and Jerry's

Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream Factory

1281 Waterbury-Stowe Rd.

Waterbury, VT

Ben Cohen and Jerry Greenfield met in 7th grade gym class at Merrick Avenue Junior High School in 1963. It is a well publicized fact but the reason I recall the fact so clearly is because my parents grew up in Merrick, New York too. In fact, both Ben and Jerry graduated from the same junior high and high school as my father; Merrick Avenue Junior High and Calhoun High School, respectively. I think they are both about 2 years younger than my father. 

In any case, if you should find yourself in the beautiful state of Vermont I recommend a visit to the Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream Factory in Waterbury, VT. I don't recommend that you go at the height of the summer though; the crowds can get pretty big. Go in the spring if you can.

While there you can take a tour of the factory at the end of which they will provide a sample of the ice cream they are producing that day. Additionally, there is a scoop shop at which you can choose from a multitude of flavors. If you are daring enough you can try the Vermonster; a monster-sized sundae comprised of  20 scoops of ice cream, hot fudge, banana, cookies, brownies, and other topping choices.

There are also some fun hands on crafts and photo opportunities like the one below. Like Cousin Rachel and Cousin Peter, you too can put your face in place of Ben or Jerry's in their famous ice cream container cover.

There is also the Graveyard where some of the great retired flavors have been laid to rest. As a frequent cemetery-goer this is my favorite part. Here the cousins, Meghan, Kelly, Rachel, and Peter, gather around the grave of White Russian.

It is worth the visit!

Pennsylvania: The Rocky Steps in Philadelphia

Philadelphia Museum of Art

2600 Benjamin Franklin Parkway

Philadelphia, PA 19130

In July of 2009 it was Cousin Adam's turn for a road trip as a gift for his 16th birthday. Cousin Adam seemed to be a kid that was willing to really road trip; to spend a few hours in the car moving from place to place rather than just choosing to drive to one location and spend a few days. Thus, Cousin Adam and I checked out several locations in Pennsylvania including the great city of Philadelphia. 

I had been there a few times before but I had never done a bus tour. One of the stops on the route was at the Rocky steps. You know, the scene in Rocky when he runs up the huge staircase. Well, those stair lead up to the Philadelphia Museum of Art.

The tour did not allow us time to visit the museum but I had been there many times before. Adam would have gone to the museum with me but we visited another museum already that day. What Adam really wanted to do what run up those steps!! ...And so he did!!!

 I recommend that if you find yourself in the City of Brotherly Love, a.k.a. Philadelphia, that you go in and check out the beautiful collections of art that the museum owns or one of the many traveling exhibits that they host from time to time. Run the steps if you dare!

Missouri: The St. Louis Arch

The Gateway Arch

200 Washington Avenue
St. Louis, MO

In June of 2008, my Cousin Peter and I drove the length of the Mississippi River from its origin in Lake Itasca, Minnesota to its end in Venice, Louisiana. The route we chose to follow is most commonly known as Great River Road. It stretches almost the entire length of the Great Miss from Hastings, Minnesota to Gretna, Louisiana. The highway is comprised of a little over 2,000 miles of both state and local highways spanning 10 states; Minnesota, Wisconsin, Iowa, Illinois, Missouri, Kentucky, Tennessee, Arkansas, Mississippi, and Louisiana.

Now I am not sure if you remember the natural disaster taking place that summer but I sure as hell do; in June of 2008 the Mississippi River was swelling due to months and months of heavy precipitation. The Great River flooded cities and towns all along its banks. The flooding began on June 7 and continued through July 1. Ask me which day Cousin Peter and I began our road trip that year. Aww, come on, ask. Hell, I'll just tell you - - June 7th. 

Let's not pretend this is the first trip that did not precisely work out as how we planned. Our families were freaked. You know what the media does with stories of natural disasters; they sensationalize them - - they find the most horrific locations to televise and  they splash the images all over the airwaves non-stop. We were fine. Yes, we had moments of some panic and concern. We had to reroute our path a little bit along the way but for the most part things went according to plan.

On June 12, we reached the Gateway Arch in St. Louis, Missouri. Now I am not a fan of heights. I say that but on almost every road trip I find myself at the top of some tall structure thinking quite loudly, "Why the hell am I up here?" 

On this particular occasion I was thinking to myself, "Why the hell am I up here again?" Yes, I had already been to the top of the St. Louis Arch back in the fall of 2002. Cousin Peter, though, had never been to the top of the world's tallest stainless steel structure. And so 630 feet up we went together for what I believe was $6 then but now costs $7.

What most people do not realize is that this memorial structure is really just a ride up to an observation deck. Ear arm or leg, if you will, contains a tram that lifts passengers up to walkway where tourists can look out over the river and state of Missouri through the short wide windows. The trams feel a little like being on a Ferris wheel. Up to five passengers can be squished into these tuna-can-like cars that rise up to the observation deck, swinging slightly every few feet up to adjust for the curve of the structure. It is a scary rickety feeling. When we were there in June 2008, the south tram, which we were on had just been repaired three months prior; in March 2008. The previous year a cable had snapped and closed that tram. Knowing that, getting up there was a little - - hmm, terrifying.

Once at the top, on windy day, you can feel that building sway. And sway it did! It's really designed that way for safety; it is earthquake resistant and can stand winds up to 150 miles/hour.

What was most remarkable about this particular trip to the top was the view of the flooding. I am not sure if it is clear to you what you are looking at here if you have never been to the Arch but look closely - - that is a parking lot along the riverbank. 

Here it is a little zoomed in. See the street lights?

Once back on the ground I took this photo. See the handrail towards the lower part of the picture centered between those two trees? The river was covering the walking path and parking lot along the riverbank.

I recommend taking the trip to the top at least once in your lifetime should you have the opportunity and lack acrophobia and claustrophobia; fear of heights and enclosed spaces.

Hawaii: Punalu'u Black Sand Beach Park

Punalu'u Black Sand Beach Park
Ninole Loop Rd.
Naalehu, HI

Now of course I did not road trip to Hawaii from New York. You can't drive to Hawaii from any state. Why does Hawaii have interstate highways then? I don't know.

But back in December of 2009, my Cousin Kelly and I went to Hawaii with a tour group. We had one day all to ourselves on the Big Island of Hawaii. And what did we choose to do? Um, get on a bus that drove around the perimeter of the island to do some site seeing. 

I did try to convince the bus driver to let me drive the bus just a few feet in the parking lot so I could say I drove in all 50 states but it was a no-go. I was a little like that pigeon in the children's book, Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus by Mo Willems. "Please? I'll be your best friend!" 

One of the stops on the tour was at this remarkable beach. 

The sand really is black. It is composed of basalt which comes from the lava that is flowing into the ocean.

There is a legend associated with this beautiful black sand. Legend has it that anyone who removes stones from any of the black sand beaches will suffer the wrath of the Goddess Pele. Pele, the Goddess of fire and volcanoes, sees the sand and stones as her children and exacts a terrible curse upon those tourists who thoughtlessly pocket these nature-made mementos of their vacation.

There is some truth to this legend as many hotels in Hawaii and Hawai'i Volcanoes National Park receive numerous packages from mainlanders returning rocks and sand with notes claiming that they have suffered sudden, unprecedented bad luck since having taken the fragments of lava. And not just mild bad luck but serious bad luck; death of loved ones and pets, broken relationships, serious health issues, legal problems, financial troubles, etc. And apparently the only way to appease Pele is to return her possessions to her.

Now some believe this curse was made up by park rangers who were fed up with tourists desecrating the park. I personally really don't believe in superstitions myself but if I were you, I wouldn't try it.

Massachusetts: Provincetown Rock Jetty

Provincetown Rock Jetty

519 West Fayette Street

Baltimore, Maryland 

Oh, about 10 years ago I started taking my younger cousins on weekend road-trips as a gift for their 15th or 16th birthdays. It seems almost every year one of them was turning 15 and I think that is a perfect age for a road trip with an older cousin for many reasons:

1. At 15 you don't have a job.

2. At 15 most of them do not have a boyfriend/girlfriend.

3. At 15 you don't want to spend your whole summer couped up in the house...

4. ...or stuck traveling with your parents  

Fifteen is the perfect time to hit the road with an older, wiser, fun-lovin' cousin. Right? Well, I hope so because that is what I did with them. At this point I have run out of 15 year-old cousins.

This past summer, 2012, it was Cousin Bitzy's turn to hit the road with me. Typically my cousins did not choose the destination, although I always offered to let them pick. I just don't think they knew where they wanted to go. 

I put an awful lot of thought into choosing the best location to travel to with each of them based on distance, expense, but mostly on their interests and personality. Although, you do learn an awful lot more about a person when you spend 4 days in a car with them; that's for damn sure.   

Cousin Bitzy is a theater kid, loud, and fun, and dramatic; a real life-force to be reckoned with. I thought a trip to see the Gold Coast Mansions in Newport, RI would be just up her alley; lavish and regal and full of drama. Having already spent several trips in Newport though, I wanted to add something to our trip that I had never done before. For all my excursions to the various corners of Massachusetts, I had never been to Provincetown; the last little community on the end of Cape Cod known mostly for its, hmmm, flamboyant residents. And so off we were - -

I put a lot of research into planning a trip. I need to know addresses, how long it will take me to get there, the best places to eat, what is there to do, how much will it cost me, etc. Once I get there though, my only goal is to "absorb the local color"; a phrase my mother used quite often. It means to just observe, breathe, blend in, or better yet soak it up.

My research into Provincetown revealed that there was a very interesting walk to take there. At the very western end of Commercial Street, just behind the Provincetown Inn, there is a mile-long jetty. I saw pictures of this thick rock path jutting out into the sea; children prancing around on it, couples holding hands. Ah romantic, serene, ahh.

Aww hell no, that shit was some scary!
 

I parked the car a few blocks away at a metered lot; parking in Provincetown was rough. We walked in some serious heat down to the jetty. And yes, there were children prancing on it and couples walking hand in hand. It was beautiful; I'll give you that BUT I couldn't get more than 30 steps out onto it before I had to turn back. There were big gaping crevasses between the enormous stones. This wasn't a leisurely walk, it was a balancing act even if only in my acrophobic mind. I wasn't looking out at the calm of the ocean; my eyes were glued to my feet. 

This was not for me. 

But we tried it. And that is really what travel is about; giving something new and different a try.

If you have been to the jetty and made it out to the end and back alive, I'd love to hear from you. 

Maryland: Edgar Allen Poe in Baltimore

Westminster Hall and Burial Ground

519 West Fayette Street

Baltimore, Maryland

This past October, 2012, I attended a conference in Baltimore, Maryland. I had been to Baltimore before on many a day trips. Being so close to Halloween I thought it only appropriate to visit the grave of one of the city's most noteworthy former residents, the author of many mysterious and macabre tales, Edgar Allen Poe.

I want to call him one of Baltimore's beloved native sons but Poe was actually born in Boston. He did, however, live out his final days in Baltimore and wrote some of his most well known stories while residing in Baltimore.

He is probably best known for his works The Raven and The Tell-Tale Heart. My favorite of his poems is his last complete one which was published shortly after his death in 1849; Annabel Lee. This is how it begins...

It was many and many a year ago,
   In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
   By the name of ANNABEL LEE;--
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
   Than to love and be loved by me.
She was a child and I was a child,
   In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than love--
   I and my Annabel Lee--

His remains are interned at the Westminster Burying Grounds located at the intersection of Fayette and Greene Streets in downtown Baltimore. It was just a two block walk from the conference hotel.

The location does offer tours of the burial grounds and catacombs, however, my travel companion and I just walked around the graveyard ourselves.

Westminster Hall

The grave of Edgar Allen Poe

Westminster Burial Ground is the final resting place of several famous Marylanders including, but not limited to: 

James Calhoun (1743-1816) the first mayor of Baltimore
James McHenry (1753-1816) signer of the Constitution
Philip Barton Key (1818-1859) son of Francis Scott Key who wrote the "Star-Spangled Banner." Philip was not as famous as his dad, I suppose, but he did have a scandalous death; he was shot and killed by his lover's husband.

Interestingly enough, where Poe is currently interned is not where he was originally buried. He was originally buried at the back of the church yard in an unmarked grave near his grandfather, David Poe, Sr.

The narrow walkway between raised tombs leading from Poe's tomb to the back of the churchyard.

Poe's original gravesite.

Edgar died on  October 7, 1849 at the age of 40 under rather mysterious circumstances; he was found delirious on the streets of Baltimore and brought to Washington College Hospital where he died 4 days later having never regained clarity. If you ask me, I believe it was the drink that killed him! He had a simple funeral attended by just a few people on Monday, October 8, 1849.

On October 1, 1875, Poe was re-interned at a location close to the front of the church. His original grave was then marked with the stone above.

Should you get the chance to be in Baltimore, I recommend Westminster Burial Ground. If you happen to take their tour, please drop me a line and give me your review.

In the Beginning...

I think my first road trip was in 1991 at the age of 17. I say "I think" because becoming a road tripper was not a plan or a goal by any means. I am not really sure how I arrived at setting the goal of seeing the 48 contiguous states before my 30th birthday. I got to Alaska and Hawaii before by the time I was 35; thus the title to my blog 50 by 35, 50 states by the age of 35. But I digress...

In 1991 I took a trip with my Cousin Jenny to visit some colleges that she was interested in attending. Don't ask me which college it was. I do believe it was in Ohio though. And I am sure it was in February because while we were sound asleep on some girl's dormitory floor the phone rang and on the other end of the line was her father telling Jenny that her brother Zach had just been born; the 5th child and only boy. In the morning we both thought it was a dream; her dad doesn't make boys - - but he did!

Back in 1991, I did none of the driving because I did not yet have a drivers license. I don't know why it was but I did not get my license until I was in my second year of college. I am not sure if I was 19 or 20 but it was not long after that that I did take my first road trip as a driver.

I think that first "REAL" road trip took place in January of 1994. Real in that the trip was a vacation. A friend from high school and I set off for Memphis, Tennessee. Unbeknownst to her parents, she was off to visit a boyfriend who her parents did not want her to see. After graduating, he had joined the military and was stationed in Mississippi or Alabama or somewhere south of Memphis. He had agreed to meet us there.

I do not recall spending much time with her beau. I don't even remember her spending much time with him. What I do recall, though, is one hell of a trip.

Not more than 3 hours out, I lost the brakes in my car. We spent the next half of a day in a service station. It is worth noting that my father is a mechanic. Doesn't matter how maintained your car is, when road tripping you must be prepared to throw your plans out the window should your vehicle decide to make a pit stop.

After leaving the service station, the next event came in the form of an emergency broadcast warning. Oh yes, there were tornadoes spotted in eastern Pennsylvania. We never saw any but it added another layer of anxiety to the traveling.

This was back before the Internet, back before everyone had cell phones, and back before I knew making hotel reservations was the wisest thing to do. After dinner at some roadside mom and pop place, my friend and I opened the restaurant's yellow pages and picked a hotel. We called from the pay phone in the restaurant to learn their rates and make our reservation. When we got there it looked just like the Bates Motel; a house with a row of rooms behind it. We thought nothing of it.

When we got into our room it was the most god-awful thing I had ever seen; mismatched bedspreads, orange shag carpet; broken furniture. We didn't care. We were exhausted. I just wanted to go to sleep.

My friend went off into the bathroom to get ready for bed. I had just finished inspecting the sheets and laid down when she called to me, "April, come here." Ugh. What?!?! I thought to myself if I go in there because she sees a spider or something I'm going to be furious. I'm tired. The day has worn me thin.

It was not a bug though.

There she stood in front of the window, wide-eyed. I stared at her blankly as she extended her arm through the window; through where there should have been a pane of glass. WHAT!?!?! She did it again. There was NO glass in the window frame. After upon further investigation we discovered that none of the windows along the back of the room had any glass in them.

We were out of there!

The hotel clerk couldn't understand why we would be leaving. He was concerned we had "used" his room. First though he tried to put us up in the house; a room without any phone.

Ugh, now I had psycho hotel clerk on my hands.

We left though. Found another hotel at a rate that far exceeded our budget but better safe than shacked up with Norman Bates.

Then when we finally reached Memphis I was overwhelmed by just how many Elvis impersonators we saw there. There as old Elvis, young Elvis, think Elvis, fat Elvis, wheelchair bound Elvis, black Elvis, Asian Elvis. I know that was where he lived but really??? Until I learned that we just so happened to be there during his birthday week. It is not always riddled with Elvi (the word for multiple Elvis).

After relaying this tale I am often asked why I would have ever bothered to take another road trip. 

Um, because that was awesome. I lived to tell and retell these tales over and over again. I wouldn't have had these stories or experiences if I had just stayed on my couch that week.

Eh, road travel is not for everyone. But it is for me.

Travel in your own Backyard

I have posted this on my other blog Digging Up the Dirt on my Dead People but it belongs here.

I am in love with travel. In my senior year of college I set a personal goal to drive to each of the 48 contiguous states before I turned thirty; the age at which I was sure you had to be grown up. I was just a few days shy of reaching that goal and a few years later I had the opportunity to add a great feather to my cap; I drove to Alaska. You’d be surprise how many people don’t think it’s possible to drive to Alaska. I blame that on cartographers. Every U.S. map that I have seen has Alaska cut out into its own little box, just floating there off to the side. That’s not really where it is, but I digress…

A few years later I was asked to give a presentation to my local DAR (Daughters of the American Revolution) On any topic of my choosing. I decided to share with them some stories from the road, answer some of the most commonly asked questions that I get, and give them a little bit of insight into how helpful the Internet can be when planning a road trip.

In preparing for my DAR presentation I discovered that I have never truly been a tourist in my own home state of New York. Oh, sure, I had been to Niagara Falls, spent a weekend in the Catskills, driven out to the Hamptons in summer traffic (a fate worse than death), and climbed the steps of the Statue of Liberty (a fate seriously close to death). And I have scanned Lake Champlain for New York State’s version of the Loch Ness monster, loving known as “Champ,” but I have never really been a tourist. I have never gone to a location in New York just to see what it’s like; just to learn something about the area. No, during my trips around New York I have often been the tour guide taking relatives from far away to see the sights that define New York.

It was then that I decided it was high time to get my tourism on; to discover a part of New York that I didn’t really know. I charged up my camera, pulled up the figurative black knee socks (I never really where socks), and hit the highway for parts less known.

“In the bosom of one of those spacious coves which indent the eastern shore of the Hudson, at that broad expansion of the river denominated by the ancient Dutch navigators the Tappan Zee, where they always prudently shortened sails and implored the protection of St. Nicholas when they crossed, there lies a small market town or rural port, which by some is called Greensburgh, but which is more generally and properly known by the name of Tarry Town.”

Thus begins one of the greatest short stories to be born out of New York, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow written by Washington Irving in 1820. If you are not familiar with the ominous tale of the headless horseman and the ill-fated teacher, Ichabod Crane, which is set right here in my own backyard, I highly recommend you pick it up. It is available on Google books [http://books.google.com/books?id=zAl0j_FUTnkC&lpg=PT23&dq=The%20Legend%20of%20Sleep%20Hallow&pg=PP1#v=onepage&q=&f=false].

If you do have the opportunity to tarry while in the Tarrytown area, I recommend a visit to Sunnyside, home of Washington Irving. A visit to an author’s home gives you a perspective on his or her life like no writing ever could. You will be permitted to linger in his study, climb the stairs to his bedroom, hold the handrails he held, and look out onto the ever changing Hudson River which sweeps by his home.

Up the road a piece from Sunnyside you can visit the grave of Washington Irving in Sleepy Hollow Cemetery. Like me, you might be surprised to learn that this is also the resting place of steel tycoon Andrew Carnegie; cosmetics empress Elizabeth Arden; and the “Queen of Mean,” Leona Helmsley. This sleepy, little market town was the retreat of many famed and wealthy individuals. Irving himself was pretty much a rock star in his day, hosting guest such as Charles Dickens, Nathaniel Hawthorne, and President Martin van Buren.

If you do happen to be in the area in October, plan ahead; purchase tickets online to an event called The Great Jack O’Lantern Blaze at Van Cortland Manor in the town of Croton-on-Hudson. I am going next weekend with a few friends and I can't wait!! Blaze consisted of a display of more than 5,000 carved pumpkins. Words and photos cannot capture the amazing glow of never-ending fields of jack-o’-lanterns.

For those of you who may never get to go to Tarrytown, I invite you to be a tourist in your own area. What is your hometown known for? How did your town come to be what it is today? And what do you really know about it? Can you separate the facts from the legends? If not, I bet your local librarian can help you with that!

Welcome!

By the time I was 35 I had reached my goal of having traveled to all fifty states. Now I am constantly questioned as to where I plan to travel to next and why; "haven't you already been there?" 

I plan to use this blog to share my travel experiences past, present, and future. I'll share photos, favorite destinations, reviews, and traveling tips.

Stay tuned!