Last week I grabbed my datebook to jot something down and realized our friend Steve C’s birthday card was tucked there waiting to be mailed–except it was already a couple of days after his birthday. I’m notoriously late sending birthday cards–believe me, if you get one on time, it’s an anomaly–so when I have them and they’ve been ready to mail forever, and I simply forget–I SUCK. I texted apologies, told him the card would go in the mail, and suggested that I atone by doing a late birthday post in his honor before the end of March. And LOOK! It’s still March!
I asked him which of our vacations or visits evoked the best memories for him so I’d know what photos to include, and he said it was our trip to Maine in 2000. That was a good time. It was bookended for me by lots of family visits. On the way there, a milestone birthday for Tom’s mother that the entire family celebrated together in Gatlinburg. Visits with my sister, nieces, and getting to see Josh’s band play. A trip to Yellow Springs, my favorite Ohio small town. On the way back, another visit with my sister then a stay-over in Alabama with Terri and her mother.
But in between those family visits: Steve was visiting Tim in NYC from California, and I drove from my sister’s to meet him there. After a few adventures (that’s code for “I got lost driving into Manhattan”), we met, hung out a while with both Tims, then headed out of the city. I’d been on the road all day, so the plan was to find a place to stay overnight then drive to Maine the next morning.
Where the plan went wrong was that it was October. In October, the leaves change color. Apparently this means everyone from everywhere will use up every hotel room, motel room, bed and breakfast, and parking lot throughout all of New England. I drove all night while Steve and I talked and talked and talked, mostly to keep me from falling asleep at the wheel. Other than my couple of hours in NYC and the many, many stops looking for lodging, I was on the road for about twenty-five hours. Because where did we finally find a hotel room?
Portland. Our destination city.
There was no way I was going to crash land at James and KK’s place at six in the morning in my zombified state. The hotel–and I don’t remember which one it was–told us we had to check out by 11 AM or pay for another night. As I recall, our four-hour nap cost us about $130. This is the only hotel that’s ever done that to me, but apparently there is no mercy shown during leaf viewing season. You have been warned.
It was all worth it. We had so much fun with James and KK. We went to LL Bean, Apple Acres Farm, and all kinds of shops and cool plant nurseries. We had great food the entire time we were there (and we still have a secret about our favorite pizza place!). We went to Portland Head Light and shot lots of good pictures. We saw beautiful scenery–well, Steve saw more than me, since he and James hiked up some hill and I was all, “Go! Save yourselves!” because I was tired and lazy. We saw an N.C. Wyeth exhibit among many other works at the Portland Museum of Art. Mostly we just had fun exploring the world of James and KK and spending time with them. I believe we even got to meet James’s sister and see the very cool place she was living.
And after it was all over, we enjoyed a drive back to Manhattan (with a side trip to Plymouth Pebble Rock) to spend more time with the Timothys.
Magic days with good friends.
Thanks for all those memories, Steve, and happy belated birthday (again).
Becky, that picture of you and Steve is so sweet. You both look great and happy. I can’t believe it’s been twelve years!
The water behind me and Steve is the Royal River (minus a car-full of boulders), and that was probably in Pownal, on our way to or from Bradbury Mountain (big hill).
The Old Port is that cool dense area with all the red brick buildings, built near the wharves. Our downtown consists of a couple blocks adjacent to the Old Port, and then there is the Arts District, a couple more blocks near there, anchored by the museum where we enjoyed the N.C. Wyeth paintings.
Obviously, you are long overdue for another visit to Portland, Maine! 😉
Happy Birthday, Steve (DB)!
I do not know of these boulders you speak. 😉
Thanks for filling in some of the blanks! My memory just ain’t what it used to be. Those were happy times, and that’s the part I remember best.
It cracks me up that you still call Steve “DB.” Heh heh.
I’m a planner. I like to plan my vacations fairly carefully. I like to know what I’m doing from one day to the next… Get an idea of what’s going on, etc. Once I’ve done my planning I’m totally open to adjust, change plans, whatnot… As long as there’s something of an agenda to work with as a starting point. Best efforts aside, this trip turned out to not follow any plans right out of the gate! After about Day 2 I just gave up.
Sitting in the passenger seat while Becky was driving through Manhattan streets was scarier than hell! I think that set the tone that anything else would be fine… ANYTHING else would be better… That’s when I threw all plans out the window and decided to just go with the flow… Just, you know… Whatever… I wasn’t going to make it out alive if I didn’t make a complete attitude adjustment!
(Side Note: $357 for that small nap in that hotel – I put that on my credit card. Total bastards! I won’t forget them either…)
The visit with James and KK was great as well. Both are wonderful people… And what a fantastic place they got back then. I don’t really hear from either – hope both are doing well…
The trip was unbelievably fantastic. I’ve been searching for pizza as good as our ‘stolen pizza’ for 12 years now. Nothing compares. Plymouth Pebble Rock was most certainly an eye opening experience… (Twelve years later and I’m still pissed about that. The more I think about that the more pissed off I get! Really?!?!?). One day I’ll just let that go… Well, probably not… Really???
Thank you Becky for a trip that I’ll never forget! The lasting memories, times we shared together are priceless and I wouldn’t trade our time together for anything!
First, our drive out of Manhattan was a relatively painless experience. If you’d been in the car with me BEFORE I got to Tim’s, you’d have reason to be frightened to this day. Even I am.
Second, I think you have to be exaggerating about the cost of that hotel. No way I’d have gone half on $357 for a nap.
And don’t call it “stolen pizza!” You make it sound like we did a dine and dash. It was a “secret pizza.”
I treasure all the memories as well, including Barnaby the cat using you as his mattress.