My first, last, and only post...
Disclaimer: This story is long (and I mean long), and probably 1) not as interesting to you as it is to me, 2) not entirely complete, 3) not as good as if I had told you in person, but emailing it is easier than trying to tell you over the phone, and most importantly 4) you can never hope to comprehend how great it was, because Calvin, David and I have been friends for an exceptionally long time and there are so many things that I will have to leave out, mostly because you wouldn’t find them nearly as funny as we did/still do.
So we left at 9ish on Thursday morning: myself, David, Calvin, and Daniel William Francis Gardam. It was a good ride to Kempton, where we had to drop off Gardam because he needed to go home before Sports Camp started that weekend. Never having been to Kempton before, and having a little time to kill, we decided to try and visit some Kemptonites. First we tried to visit Dale, but he was gone, so we drove around the winding Kempton roads (a lot faster than Gardam liked) till we came to Briggs’ house. Everyone on the trip knows his whole family fairly well, so we were looking forward to seeing them. Both cars were home so we took that as a likely sign that they might be as well. We went up to the front door and knocked. No answer. We opened the door and yelled, “BRIGGS”, but still no reply. We walked inside, hoping to find someone. We ended up in the attic (Briggs’ room). The house was completely empty. We chilled in his room for a little, hoping he would come back, but we eventually just left him a note and went outside, where we proceeded to jump on their trampoline for a good 10 minutes.
After we dropped Gardam off, we started off to NYC. We drove straight to Shay Stadium (the Mets stadium), but not without a few problems along the way. Trying to get through Lincoln Tunnel was laughable. We sat in dead-stop traffic for two hours, but in a way, it was kinda enjoyable. The highlight was definitely seeing 4 black Lincoln Town Cars (with similar license plates and nearly exact copies of one another), with tinted windows and old men dressed in black suits, separated by a few cars in the wait. We tried not to stare for fear of being knocked off.
When did finally arrive, it was a few minutes before game time, so we donned our Pirates/Steelers gear on, bought our tickets from a scalper, and headed into Shay Stadium for our first game watching our team in an away stadium. Mets fans are no where near as intense (or frightening) as Yankees fans, so we were not too worried about anything as we cheered louder than any of them. Then again, they weren’t very loud, having nothing to cheer for in their 5-0 loss. It was the best sporting event I have ever been too. Our star rookie pitcher (still undefeated) pitched a no-hitter for most of the game, and struck out their best player 3 times. It’s was miraculous. We were heckling and taunting the crap out of every Mets fan near us, and they couldn’t say anything of merit, cause their team was losing, nay, being owned by our lowly Pirates (one of the worst teams in the MLB). *sigh* It was beautiful.
After driving to Calvin’s uncle’s house (in Norwalk, CT, on the way to Boston, our next stop) and spending the night there, we slept in and ate then began the drive to Boston. By far the most enjoyable drive I have ever been on. Usually, when you are driving, there is at least one responsible person in the car who will maintain a sense of order and slowness, but not this time. David, our only driver, loves to speed, but wasn’t all that experienced with making a move in precarious situations where the average driver would not even consider it. That is, until the drive to Boston. He is obviously more risky than normal drivers, but today he took it to the next step. We weaved in and out of lanes, averaging at least 95 mph. It felt like a video game, and we all know how fun video games are…
Boston was a lot sweeter than I expected. I mean, it’s no New York, but it’s definitely a place I wouldn’t mind living. It’s super clean, a nice oceanic view and smell, and not intimidating in the slightest. The food was good, not great, but good. We walked around, saw some street performers, sat by the bay, and just wandered around for hours. We tried to get to the Harvard area via foot, but didn’t really know how. Around early evening, we wanted to get to our car, but didn’t exactly know how…Boston’s a lot bigger than we had originally thought. We walked through its China town…which we didn’t know exist, over highways, through construction sites, until we finally found the parking garage. Calvin actually complained about his feet feeling like they were about to bleed…hehe
We ate dinner at this awful wanna-be seafood shack that a random guy we asked suggested to us. The food was super greasy, everything was fried, and it all was drastically overpriced. Not that it wasn’t an enjoyable experience though.
After leaving the empty parking garage, we started our all-night-long trek to Maine (we found out why the garage was empty when we paid for the parking…all $26 for 2 ½ hours…). At first driving was fine and everything was normal…we weren’t too tired. Around one or so, after we had broken into Maine’s border, with David going slower than normal, we see flashing lights behind us. We pull over. The cop comes up and asks, “Do you know how fast you were going?”
David: “No. Not too fast I think.”
Cop: “91.”
David: “Really? I swear it was around 80…”
Cop: “I’ve been following you since the TOLL!” (somewhat flustered and angry sounding)
David: “Oh.”
Cop: “You in a rush?”
David: “No.”
Cop: “License and registration please.” (I fumble through the glove compartment, looking for any official-looking document)
Cop: “This isn’t your car? Who’s is it?”
David: “His sister’s” (pointing at me)
Cop: “And who are you?”
Not wanting to deal with the trouble of pronouncing/spelling my name, and not being a big fan of cops in general, I mumble to David “…it doesn’t matter…” The cop, hearing this, flips his lid and half-yells at me, “What? You don’t think it’s my right to ask you what your name is?!” Choking back laughter, I stumble through my name, he asks us where we are going/why we are here, and we explain and he goes back to his squad car. He comes back 10 or so minutes later, and hands David a ticket. Then, the best thing in the world happened…
Cop: “Have you ever seen a moose?”
David: “No.”
Cop: “Have you ever seen a Clydesdale?”
David, not seeing the connection of size, said, “No.”
Cop: “Awww come’on. You’re from Western Pennsylvania, with all those Amish around there, you must’ve seen a Clydesdale.”
David: “Oh yeah.” (lying)
Cop: “Well, you hit a moose at 91 mph, you’re as good as dead.”
As he starts to walk back to his car, he uttered the famous words:
“Just slow down.”
I, of course, had to skip some parts (some due to lack of memory, others due to lack of interest. When we reached the next toll, David, fearing the cop tailing us again, asked the toll lady the shadiest question possible. “Have you seen any cops come through here recently?” She, not really understanding, or believing that he asked her that, said, “No…I don’t think so…” Hehe…that was fairly amusing.
This drive started at 11, and we had lost our minds by 3:30. We were giddy, and tired, and hungry, and going more slowly than normal, due to David’s newfound Cop-Paranoia. We stopped at an almost closed gas station, where we got Rockstars and gas (David asked the clerk if moose were common in Maine, and he said yes…who knew?). Even though it was dark out, we could see the inlets of water connected to the ocean, and it looked so cool. As we were getting closer to our campground, the sun started to rise. It was the most beautiful sunrise I had ever seen. The sky turned colors I had never seen before and it looked unreal. When we did get there, it was 6 am and we had gotten over our tiredness…somewhat anyway. The campground hadn’t opened yet, and our campsite was occupied, so we went to the “picnic area.” I picked out this state park cause there was a lot of water and I guessed it would be nice. I’ve never been more right. We climbed out of the car, and down to the rocks. Maine is absolutely gorgeous, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. The sun was still rising and it shone down like I have never seen on the glistening water. The bay was surrounded by large rocks, not separate ones, all one big rock, just worn away in some areas. Pines trees grew on the rocks with moss underneath them. No place I have seen in person had ever looked so perfect.
We slept on a rock on a semi-island which we walked to when the tide was down. It was a wonderful sleep. We didn’t really consider that the tide would rise enough (or quickly enough) to trap us there. But it did. And fairly high. It wouldn’t have been a problem, if we didn’t have our pillows and sleeping bags over there. We first tried to wade over, but it was too deep, and getting much deeper very quickly. We then tried to figure out all the possible ways to solve this (someone swimming over and driving to get an inflatable raft, or garbage bags, or getting someone who has a boat). David and Calvin swam over, but the water was freezing. Calvin, not being nearly as tough/athletic as David, started to panic and freeze up (not literally). There was no way he could’ve drowned, so don’t worry, but David ended up swimming back and pulling him over to the other side. I was there sitting…waiting…as I saw a pair of kayakers. I yelled to David (he and Cal were still drying off, Cal still recovering). David went and asked them if they could help us out, and they came over and ferried our gear across. Once all of it was on land, I jumped in. The water was dead cold, but I made the swim fine.
After driving into town and eating lunch/breakfast, we came back, registered and napped for a long time. One of the things that we wanted to do in Maine was get some good seafood (especially since Boston’s had disappointed us). We saw these little signs for a lighthouse inn and chowder house. It sounded interesting and we were looking for a little, unknown place that would have great food. We say signs for a lighthouse along the way, and thought that might be it. It wasn’t, but it was tens times better.
It was a different state park, with a lighthouse right on the shore. It was cloudy, verging on stormy. The water was choppy, the sky foreboding, and there were no sounds except wind, water, and a distant boat bell that continued to ring. I had only been to a place like this in my dreams, or seen it in a movie. The rocks were jagged, yet all one piece. They were a fake looking gray, very dark and deep. The pines here were a dark green, and very proud, with the gray sky behind them. We could see the ocean, the true ocean, without any peninsulas or islands on the horizon, unblemished and powerful. I felt so alive.
We left and went back on our voyage to find a seafood place. We found this little place, and decided to try it. We walked in and it looked kinda like what we wanted: small, not a chain, down-to-earth. David and I got Clam Chowder to start off, and it was really chunky and frightening looking, but it turned out to be the best chowder ever. Then came the entrees… We all ordered something called “Taste O’ The Sea.” The name should’ve been a clear warning for us, but it wasn’t. It was supposedly various types of seafood (shrimp, scallops, lobster, etc.) over pasta with alfredo sauce. Sounds pretty good, right? Hehe…right… The problem was…the seafood was fried and greasy. You’d think it would have been sautéed or properly prepared to put in pasta, but it was like they took it from someone else’s meal and just threw it on. It didn’t taste awful, but it definitely didn’t taste good. Plus, the chowder was extremely filling (and much much better tasting) so none of us even came close to finishing. The waitress (who was in her 60’s) asked us if anything was wrong, and we assured her it was great and everything was fine, even though it wasn’t. Worst part, the Taste O’ The Sea cost $17.95, the most expensive plate n the menu. At least we know now…
That night we slept out on the ground in our sleeping bags. We built a sweet fire and the wind was blowing pretty hard on and off, keeping the fire going. We talked for a while, all said our 10 best days (or tried to), best things we’ve done/experienced, and other things like that. It started to rain, and we went into the car, but before long, it stopped and we went back out to our mattresses of pine needles, not worried about anything that Maine could throw at us.
I woke up only to find that Maine did indeed attack, and in a way I hadn’t considered. I had been bitten several times by mosquitoes. But that wouldn’t have been all that bad if one of the bites hadn’t been on my eyelid... My left eye was swollen and could only open halfway. When something like that happens, it can ruin a lot of things. Like everything. But, luckily, David happened to have his sunglasses on the trip. Now these are just any sunglasses. No, they’re Solar Shields. They are big, black, very very tinted, have side shading, among other features. Basically, they are like sunglasses blind people would wear. This was nice because then people couldn’t see my eye at all, and made me feel much less self-conscious (which is rare, but when it is something like a swollen-shut eye, I do get self-conscious :P). The best part of this was many, many people assumed that I was actually blind. Some people would stare, some would purposefully not look at me, it was hilarious. Calvin and I played it up big in New York a couple of times (having him read me things that I couldn’t “see”…hehe good stuff…). But that was New York, and we’re not yet out of Maine.
People never pick up hitchhikers, or at least, that’s what I thought…before we did. He sat in the front, with me and Cal in the back. We never got his name, but he was a stout, strong smelling Indian. He told us where to exactly where to go. He has lived in Maine all his life. He mumbled and was difficult to understand, but whenever we didn’t, we would just nod and say “…mhm…” I asked if he had ever been in a dangerous situation while hitchhiking. After saying no, he told us a couple of stories about times he’s hitchhiked before (he does it every year, for some reason, we’re not sure). He said one time, a woman pulled over to pick him up. At some point during their conversation he said, “You know, I could rape you right now?” We’re not exactly how that fit into context, but we’re sure it was innocent. He also said at some point, “You know…women have been known to force men to rape them too…” Me and Cal almost lost it so many times in the back. We actually got some of it on tape (I had to pretend I was getting something out of the middle compartment so I could get Cal’s camera out). It was such a great experience.
After a really long day of driving, we got to Brooklyn around 9 pm. David was a bit worried that his aunt and uncle would be strict, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. They live in a building that has 4 separate apartments (I believe they own the building, but I’m not sure). Anyway, they stay in the bottom apartment, someone else in the second floor and fourth floor, but the third floor is empty. Apparently, they are fixing it up and going to move in there to I think, but they weren’t when we were there. We got it all to ourselves. An apartment in Brooklyn, with no curfew or rules. Talk about perfect.
We woke up the next morning early-ish cause we wanted to go try to get Conan tickets. We went to the nearest subway stop and take it into Manhattan. New York is huge…and I love it. There is so much to do and see and place to go…so cool. We walked around, asked where the NBC building was, found it and then found out Conan isn’t filming till November. We cried. Then we went to Central Park to nap…and a good nap it was. We were so tired and somewhat grumpy/negative and it was exactly what we needed. After the nap, we took the subway to the harbor where the Statue of Liberty is. We stopped at a street vendor for some lunch and had some of the best food I have had in a long, long time. Even right now as I think about it, I salivate. We sat and ate, looking out over the water. After that we went to Ground Zero and saw where the towers once stood. It was pretty powerful, but we couldn’t really see that much…lots of construction and fences in the way. After that, we couldn’t really decide what to do and were laughing and somewhat bored. David, noticing that we are all a bit disgruntled, somewhat tired, and needed a break from one another, came up with an ingenious idea: we would all split up, do whatever we wanted for an hour, then come back and tell each other about it.
That hour may have been the highlight of the trip for me. I love wandering city streets, feeling alone and more free than ever. I had wanted to get on a roof of a building all day, so I decided that would be my first course of action. I went to a big hotel and waited for someone who had a suite card to use the elevator so I could get to the highest floors. I had to take some steps to reach the roof, but when I finally did see the door, it said it was alarmed. But, it was not all lost. The view from the window in the hall was so cool. There’s something so special about being higher than the world and looking down on it. I love it.
I then went to the most bustling area, bought a drink, found a comfortable pole to sit on, and watched. I watched everyone who passed by. People-watching is also one of my favorite things to do. You can learn so much by just seeing how people interact with one another in all types of situations. And people are so darn cool.
We met up, David was late of course, and headed off to Yankee Stadium. We had decided to have dinner after the game, so we were pretty hungry, but we hardly noticed because of everything that happened. The subway to the game was completely full, like how you see in the movies. There were a lot of weird people and public transportation is funny, because it’s almost as if there is a rule that while riding it, you cannot talk, because most people don’t. Of course there are those annoying ones who do, and do rather loudly and about things you don’t want to hear about, but they are all hated anyway…hehe…
When we got there, we had to dip and dodge and duck our way through the crowds to get our tickets and get to our seats. The stadium was packed. We were sitting in the highest right field bleachers, but that’s where all the hardcore/poor fans sit, so it was well worth not seeing the game. Yankees fans all act like they care a lot, and react to every little thing. They either boo or cheer nearly every play in the game, so it’s quite a rollercoaster ride. But considering the Yanks won 7-0, it was mostly all ups. We got the wave to go around the entire stadium 7 times and innumerable chants broke out randomly. Even though I’m not a Yankees fan, it might have been the most fun game I’ve gone to. There was so much feeling and power in that stadium it was almost tangible.
We took the subway back to Manhattan and looked for any food-related place open. We came upon this little diner that was empty except for the employees. We walked in and sat down. They were speaking Italian, so right away we were worried. The waiter was extremely tall and intimidating and the cook sounded and looked exactly like Hollywood portrays mob bosses (I muttered “…we’re dead…” so many times…hehe). Oddly enough, we got our second best meal of the trip here, and only for $27 total. Weird how that kind of things works out.
Then we took the subway back and slept.
The ride home wasn’t very eventful, aside from the very end, when I challenged David to make it to the gas station right near my house by 6:01. As we were getting close, it was getting very close to 6. Lights at the wrong moments, people going slow, 6:00 as we are driving down the street the station is on. It’s a left turn into it and there were cars zooming by. Right after we pulled in it turned 6:01. This may not be that interesting to you, but it was actually pretty sweet and surprisingly very intense (me and David we shaking with adrenaline afterwards...hehe…).
Of course, this is only what I could remember and put down on paper, and it is no where near complete. There is so much that happened that is not here, but it’s the best I could do (or rather, as much as I could do before dying from exhaustion). I may tell you more when I see you next, if you want to hear it, maybe even if you don’t *grins*