Made It to Maine...with Help

Our campsite in Greenbelt

We left later than we had planned. Actually we left two days later, but we felt as ready as possible on Wednesday (9/15) morning and still didn’t leave until 11:30 a.m. This was okay because our first stop was only 4.5 hours away. In fact, it took us 7.5 hours because of traffic and a few stops, which tend to take longer because of the cats and because we have lunch in the trailer. So, for now on we’ll tack on a couple extra hours for long drives. By the time we arrived, David was tired but our campsite in Greenbelt National Park was pleasant.

David slaving in the kitchen

Unfortunately, we didn’t have time to linger, and the following morning we had breakfast and left. The day didn’t start out too well. Immediately upon leaving, the GPS directed us to the Baltimore-Washington Parkway. “No trucks!” read David. “What do we do?” “Don’t get on it,” I said, “I’ll reprogram the GPS.” David kept driving while the GPS was reprogramming. It was taking forever to reroute us. “Oh no, we’re headed downtown! This is a nightmare,” said David, imagining us dragging our 30' trailer around the White House. “It’s just like driving around the Arc de Triomphe at rush hour in Paris all over again,” I said, but really, it wasn’t a big deal. “Just pull into that shopping center while the GPS finishes.” In a couple minutes it had rerouted us, and we were soon merrily on our way on I-95. 

Our campsite at Kettletown State Park, CT

We stopped at the first Maryland Welcome Center we came to. I got a state map and also a “cheat sheet” telling us exactly where RV’s headed north should go. We followed the cheat sheet over bridges and on toll roads. (Tolls cost a total of $76.80 this one day.) There was a lot of traffic, a lot of getting on and off various highways and a lot of switching lanes to keep in the proper lane. This was very tiring and also only the fourth day that David had pulled the trailer. It required a lot of focus. He especially disliked the temporary concrete construction barriers on the highway as they made the lanes even narrower. Once we crossed the Tappen Zee bridge over the Hudson, the GPS was in charge again. We were on I-87 headed toward I-684 when the GPS told us to get on the Saw Mill River Parkway in New York. “It says ‘passenger cars only’” said David. I didn’t have time to consult the map and had already looked at all the restricted roads for RV’s. “I don’t know why,” I said. “It’s probably okay.” Foolishly, we got on the parkway. It started to climb steeply. “Maybe it’s because of the steep hills,” said David. I looked on the map and saw that it was a shortcut to I-684. “We’ve only got a short way to go on this,” I said. After several miles we came to a low bridge. “We can’t go under that bridge!” exclaimed David in a panic. Our RV is 10.5 feet to the top of the a/c unit, and the bridge had only an 8.5 foot clearance. Fortunately, there was an off-ramp right before the bridge. “Get off that ramp!” I pointed. David got off. “Oh God,” said David clutching his forward in his hand. “That would have been a disaster.” We were driving along a city street. I looked on the map, but it didn’t have enough detail. The GPS directed us along some streets and then back to the parkway, at a point past the low bridge. Like idiots, we got on the parkway a second time. “This isn’t a good idea,” said David. “We’ve only got about nine more miles to go before the Interstate,” I said. “We’ll never make it,” said David. He was exhausted by hours of difficult driving. “What if we come upon another 8 foot bridge? What do we do? Rip off the top of our trailer? Stop all the traffic on the parkway?” We really didn’t know what was ahead of us. We came to a stop at a red light, and Providence intervened.  The woman in the car next to us rolled down her window and said, “You, know, you’re not supposed to be on this road.” She explained that there were low bridges ahead. She said we could get off here and use our GPS to find another way to the Interstate. David turned right off the Parkway and started to climb a steep hill. I deleted the Saw Mill Parkway from the GPS route, and it soon found another, somewhat circuitous route to the Interstate, but no low bridges. “That would have been ugly,” said David clutching his forehead. 

By this time he was ready to call it a day. I found a campground closer than we had planned--Kettletown State Park in Connecticut. On our way there, we took a wrong turn and found ourselves climbing and descending a steep, narrow, winding road with no place to turn around. After a few miles we came to an intersection, turned around, and David raced back up and down the hills, eager to get to our destination. By the time we reached the campground, the brakes were "smoking". This park was beautiful but charged $30 and no hookups! We backed into the campsite, which was on a slant, and got the cats into the trailer. It started to rain, then to pour. David was too tired to put down the stabilizing jacks. Then we discovered that we were almost out of power. The battery should have been charged by the truck during the day, but didn’t. Evidently, something is wrong with the connection. “I can’t fix it now,” said David. “It will take 3 or 4 hours.” We did what we could with what little power we had. Around 8:00, the rain stopped, and we decided to set up the generator since “quiet time” wasn’t until 10. So we dragged the 100-pound generator out of the truck bed and plugged in the trailer. Later that evening David sat at the table clutching his forehead. “David,” I said, “we didn’t hit the bridge, so stop thinking about it. We learned our lesson.” “It would have been ugly,” said David again. “That woman saved us. It’s not that she was the guardian angel, the guardian angel was speaking through her.” The next day we drove without incident to Bangor, Maine. Overall, a successful first few days. The trailer is intact, and we’ve learned many lessons. 

The Cats

"What are we doing here?"

"Who me? I didn't do it!" Plato

We covered the back seat of our truck with towels and set up the cats with food, water, scratching pad, cat bed and a toy rat stuffed with catnip. They can crawl through the window into the truck bed and use the kitty litter box back there. The first day, Neptune stayed in my lap the whole time, and Plato stayed on the armrest between us. They complained a little but settled down. They didn’t eat, drink or use the kitty litter until we put them in the trailer. They seem to like the trailer okay because it doesn’t move. The second day, Neptune complained a little, but Plato took a more subtle route. Our GPS mount won’t stay on the window, so I put it in the cup holder in front of the armrest. Suddenly the GPS was telling us to get off the highway and go the opposite direction. “Is that right?” said David. “No!” I said. “It can’t be. Ignore it.” I checked the GPS, and we were headed home. The second time it happened, I knew what was going on. Plato was reprogramming the GPS, the sly little devil! The GPS was right at his feet. He tried this sneaky maneuver several times over the next few days, but I was on to his little trick, so he didn’t succeed in redirecting us home. For the most part, both cats are doing very well, considering no one asked them if they wanted to go to Canada. They probably would have said, “And be bounced along in a noisy truck for hundreds of miles and hours a day and then be cooped up in a little trailer? No Thanks!”