Boston Trip, Part Deux

Last I said was that we arrived at the Berkshire Mountains. To pick it up from there...

We drove and drove along Route 2 admiring the gold and brown and green leaves along the way. Not many reds, but plenty of golds to go around. The road is one lane in either direction much of the time, and I was expecting mass crowds. However, we had the road much to ourselves and took our time going under the speed limit. We especially had to watch our speed on the famed Hairpin Turn, where the road does a U-turn as we zig-zagged down the side of one mountain. (If you click on the picture you can see the Hairpin Turn sign.)


Shortly thereafter we arrived at The Spot. I think I mentioned already that this trip was inspired by a drive my sister and I took seven years ago. One particular spot on that drive was the inspiration for the trip-- a lovely stretch of road about 2 or 3 miles long that winds through a valley between mountains. The road is at the base of a mountain, so if you look left you see trees going up up up as far as you can see. If you look right you see a sweet brook babbling over rocks, about 20 feet wide. It's quite picturesque and just speaks rest to my soul. We came upon the stretch and I was in heaven. It was just beautiful, with the canopy of the trees overhead and the gentle brook next to us. I was so taken by it that I didn't take any pictures... oops. But this is what it looks like around there:

After the stretch of road through the valley the road climbs up to the top of the next mountain. At the top of that mountain my sister and I took a picture, which I happened to find the morning we left for Boston. I'll scan it tomorrow and post it here:

Brad and I found that spot at the top of the mountain and re-enacted the pose, with Brad being Steph. She likes to be goofy so she pretended to be zipping up her fly. Goodness. The place where we're standing is in the parking lot of a trading post gift store kind of place. There were people around so we asked a gentleman to take our picture. Brad tried to explain that he was going to do something out of the ordinary and pretend to zip up his fly, etc. The guy took the picture quickly and then he and his wife walked away in short order. Apparently they weren't so amused. I guess it might seem kind of creepy to someone who doesn't know my sister nor husband's sense of humor... but I thought it was funny.


And speaking of funny, or ironic at the least... what do you suppose is the name of the town where my inspirational stretch of land is found?


Florida, Massachusetts. God, you just crack me up sometimes. I leave stinkin' Florida for a dream vacation to... Florida.

And just for an added dose of irony, the "statue" of the town of Florida is a giant snowplow.


After we found The Spot we ambled on toward Williamstown, home of Williams College. It has about a zillion beautiful steeples with rolling hills, etc. (Sorry for the bad pic-- it was taking quickly with one hand reaching out the top of the convertible.)


Long ago when we planned this trip I had a fantasy that Brad and I would fall in love with Williamstown, move there and work at the college, and live happily ever after. We walked around the town, got out and got some ice cream at the local place and talked with the high school girl behind the counter. She was a bit reluctant to actually carry on a conversation (ah, yes. Now I remember how cold New England is-- and I'm not speaking meteorologically). We asked what people did on weekends, etc., and were told there was a movie theater at the mall about a half hour away, um, not much else, I guess, shrug. Hmm. Maybe we need a wee bit more city nearby. And that coupled with the abundance of non-traditional relationships / families we saw, along with some interesting postings on the community bulletin board at the coffee shop... made us think that perhaps our midwestern, slightly traditional selves might be more well suited in a different locale. So much for my little fantasy. A girl can dream.

I forgot to mention-- just before Williamstown we stopped at The Natural Bridge state park. It was closing in 40 minutes so we made quick time walking the 100 yards from the parking lot down to the actual bridge. The first thing we saw was a beautiful waterfall over marble. The area had once been a marble quarry and now is protected.


That water's path took it directly to a big HUGE rock, where, over time, it has eroded a hole through the rock, making a Natural Bridge.

The picture is really bad-- we had no battery time left and it was really hard to capture the essence of the place. It was like a giant jungle gym for grown-ups-- walkways here, stairs there, etc. It was truly amazing to see the power of the water. There are moments that I just marvel that God invented gravity. Why? Why not let everything float and be a mess? It was pretty cool.

And this was our final shot, taken by a stranger on the street in Williamstown. I so enjoyed being bundled up and feeling the cool wind against my face. Lots of wind, in fact. I had a decent windburn on my cheeks the next day.

To end the trip we drove south on Route 7 to the Mass Pike, and took that over to our hotel in Waltham. I pricelined a place that turned out to be a total dive-- holes in the sheets, mold in the shower, ick factor = 1 gajillion. But by the time we arrived we had 8 hours to sleep until we had to leave for the airport, so we made the best of it. Our flight home was uneventful and smooth, and we arrived home with time to do laundry and nap.

Overall the trip was amazing, a dream come true. But on the first two days I was a bit out of sorts. Brad kept asking me if I was ok, and my answer was, "I don't know." For many years I've yearned to live downtown in Boston, preferrably the North End with the cute bakeries and produce shops and meat shops. I've loved the charm of it, the character, the deep history and roots-- I think I take security in deep roots like that. But as we walked the streets the bliss I expected to feel wasn't there, and instead I was uncomfortable and on edge. People where everywhere, cars parked haphazardly, apartments on top of one another... it was hard to get a breath. I was confused at my reaction, as I guess I have been a lot in the last few months. Who am I if I'm not enamored with the city and lusting after a cozy apartment in the North End? Since when am I uncomfortable with all the people around? What is with this identity crises at age 30?

In the end I can answer that yes, I am ok. But my reaction threw me for a loop. Brad said that maybe one reason that God had us move to Florida (oh, please God, tell me your reasons so I can hurry up and learn the darn lessons and move!) was so that Brad and I would grow to have a similar mindset on a place to live. He has been more comfortable in the suburban kind of situation, which I have scorned for years in favor of city life. But now that we live in the boonies, I like my space. I like not hearing people on the floor above me. I like having shades open and not worrying about people seeing me in my pj's. I'm becoming someone I didn't know I wanted to be, but I see value in my changing preferences and it's fun to share dreams with Brad.