I'll Cross That Bridge When I Come To It

The music was cued up for singing as I rolled out of Jonesport, Maine with a 6.5 hour drive 
(in a perfect world) to Plymouth, New Hampshire.  For the first time in 3.5 months in New England, I was meeting with familiar faces, my sister and niece, for nearly a week of food, games, chat, and hopefully, fun. 

It was my first visit to Plymouth, a small college town in the Lakes Region at the southern end of the White Mountains. They’ve maintained a sweet little Main Street with Plymouth State University nearby; and you don’t have to venture too far to access hiking trails, riverfront, and lakes. There was plenty of time spent cooking & eating good food, a few challenging games of Rummikub, a gift box of books to share, a belated birthday celebration, one day of rain, one night without sleep, and a one-mile hike. The visit was too short for my sister and I; too long for my niece. 

​Summer in New England has officially ended here, yet Vermont continues to pull me in.  

In just three hours, I happily arrived solo at the Crown Point Campground in New York. While it was a short journey, I wasn’t sure what to expect while crossing Vermont mountain passes since the floods. There were single lanes for miles, but a great deal of clearing and shoring up had been done, while drivers were cautious and considerate.  

My actual arrival time at camp was 10:30 am; far too early to set up the homestead, but a glorious sunny Sunday to park the car and hop on the bike across the bridge to rural Vermont. It was this region near Lake Champlain that brought me back in the spring pondering a more permanent life in the Green Mountain State. While it isn’t meant to be, I still see possibilities as a seasonal person in a few years. 

In no time, the campsite was in good form and I was ready for an outdoor week. Shamefully, I realized that I hadn’t camped in five months (yes, Florida); though horrendous thunderstorms pushed me into my car for two nights of sleep. A little flooding but all good. 

I was in familiar, pleasant surroundings and while I lived on the New York side, I mostly played on the Vermont side of the bridge. The view of Lake Champlain with the Green Mountains to the east and the Adirondacks to the west is one of the most beautiful spots in this country.