In mid-June we paid a visit to our old stompin’ grounds in Western New York, paying visits to family and friends and collecting our few remaining possessions for shipment to Arizona. We were fortunate to be hosted by a number of excellent cooks and so were well fortified by the time we hit the road again. The visit served to remind us how pretty New York is and how expensive. Unfortunately we wasted parts of several days in attending to repairs to the water heater in the coach; it still isn’t quite right but at least we have hot water, if not on demand at least within a reasonable period of time.
We made a brief stop in Central Bridge, just off the Interstate and used that as a base for a visit to the bustling city of Cooperstown. 
While there were several options to pick from for the day’s entertainment, most of the admission fees were more than we cared to spend and so we selected the Baseball Hall of Fame over the art and farm museums. It turned out to be a good choice and was far more interesting than we might have expected, not being big fans of the national pastime. I lost interest in the game when the Dodgers left Brooklyn and so was delighted that the museum’s heaviest concentration is on the glory days of the game, when the star players were mythic creatures, not over-indulged egomaniacs on steroids.
Our next stop was Rochester, Massachusetts which bills itself as The Gateway to Cape Cod. It wasn’t the most convenient place to be for a visit to the Massachusetts State House in Boston but it was one of the few affordable campgrounds in the vicinity. It was over an hour’s drive north to Boston and the day of our visit was a wet one with thunder, lightning and a heavy downpour for most of the trip. Throw in bumper-to-bumper traffic and it was not a joyful experience, especially when we had to pony up $22 to park the car for a two-hour slog to the capitol and back. 
The capitol was completed in 1798 and sits in what was once John Hancock’s cow pasture, making it one of the oldest capitols still in continuous use. We had an appointment for a tour but unfortunately the rotunda echoes something fierce and we weren’t able to hear much of what the guide had to say. The ominous rumbles and cracks of lightning didn’t help any. We do know that photography is not allowed in the legislative chambers, probably to keep the taxpayers from seeing that nobody was hard at work.
And, because photography was not allowed, we don’t have pictures of The Sacred Cod, a wooden fish which serves as totem to the Representatives. The Senators also have their totem which is known as The Holy Mackerel.
The following day was much improved, weather-wise, and we were in a much better mood as we headed off to the east for a visit to the Rhode Island state house in Providence. The building is on a small knoll overlooking the city and is built of white Georgia marble. Our guide pointed out that the dome is the fourth largest self-supported marble dome in the entire world, behind only St. Peter’s in Rome, the Minnesota state house and the Taj Mahal.
There is always so much to see and each state house we’ve visited boasts its own unique architectural detail or artifact or snippet of history; Rhode Island’s state house boasts a cannon used at the Battle of Gettysburg with a cannonball firmly embedded in its barrel, proving some Reb was a mighty fine shot. The barrel and the ball were both so hot that they are permanently fused together.
While in Providence we visited a National Historic Site devoted to the story of Roger Williams and the founding of Rhode Island. The city of Providence is a bit on the run-down side and we were happy to get away and head back to the campground to enjoy happy hour with our new-found friends, John and Barbara and their two Siamese cats. It was very impressive to see the male cat, Chauncey, strolling along on a leash just as a dog might. Having once had a Siamese cat as a pet, we know that such signs of cooperation are rare or perhaps our cat was just a contrarian.
It rained mightily on the day we moved north to Naples, Maine but once we got around Boston the skies cleared and we had more or less pleasant weather for our entire visit to the Lakes Region of Maine. Naples turned out to be a cute little resort community perched between Long Lake and Sebago Lake. One visit to the local library and we were hooked. It’s a big white house with a wrap-around porch, a view of Long Lake and hanging baskets of bright pink petunias dangling from the porch rafters. And they have, by far, the finest used book sale section we’ve seen. It’s an entire room in the basement, the books shelved just as they would be in any self-respecting library. Their half-price sale was coming up the very next day so instead of cleaning house we went back to town to buy books.
The Maine State Museum is closed on Mondays so we made a special trip to Augusta on Sunday to tour the museum and then went back again on Monday to tour the capitol building. Our tour guide was quick to point out that we shouldn’t expect to see any gilt, stained glass or other “just for show” adornment on the state house, Maine folks being frugal souls. The Maine state animal is the moose. There are signs along the highways and byways to keep alert for them but, once again, they eluded us. Just as in Alaska, there were signs indicating their presence but nary a moose to be seen anywhere. We are now convinced we are more likely to see a unicorn than a moose.
Last year we were in Canada during the Fourth of July holiday and so weren’t able to partake of one of our favorite traditions, taking in a small town parade. 
But this year we had Naples, Maine to enjoy. It was a boiling hot day but we managed to set up our chairs in some semi-shade and settled in for the festivities, chitty-chatting with some of the locals and waiting for the excitement to begin. All of the nearby towns sent their gleaming fire trucks, a local campground had a float, there were several Farmall tractors and just like that the parade was over with, the crowd cleared and we all went home to wait for nightfall so we could watch the fireworks out over the lake. A rather severe thunderstorm moved in early in the evening, we lost electrical power and we decided to skip the fireworks, the pyrotechnics of the storm being sufficient.
Our next stop was Northwood, New Hampshire from which we made a drive to Exeter to visit the American Independence Museum, headquartered in the circa 1721 Ladd-Gilman House. The Folsom Tavern has recently been moved to the same property and is now part of the tour. George Washington may not have actually slept there but he did stop by for a visit in 1789. Exeter is also home to the Phillips Academy, a prep school for the veddy veddy well-to-do.
John and Barbara had invited us to camp in their yard during our visit to New Hampshire so we cancelled our reservations near Concord and went instead to their hillside home near Wolfeboro. Wolfeboro bills itself as the nation’s first summer resort, perched as it is on the shores of Lake Winnipesaukee. The town was hosting their annual arts and crafts fair plus Mitt and Anne Romney, local residents, were taking a break from campaigning so the town was teeming with tourists as we crept through our way through on the way up the hill. Once we got settled in, John and Barbara whisked us off for a boat ride. It was a beautiful bright afternoon and we enjoyed seeing all the interesting lakeside homes, some quite plain and ordinary, others fanciful and elegant. Generally speaking, I’m not a big fan of boats but it was a most enjoyable afternoon. Our entire visit was a pleasant change of pace, with happy hours and communal meals.
Of course we had to make the trek to Concord to visit the state house and get our passport stamped. 
It was a long drive over hill and dale but we didn’t have any time constraints and we arrived in plenty of time to take a leisurely stroll through the capitol building. They don’t have tour guides but the lady in the gift shop stamped our book and sent us on our way to poke about at will. New Hampshirites cannot complain about a lack of representation – the state has 400 members in their House of Representatives which works out to one representative per 3000 people. Their chamber is arranged like an amphitheater with row upon row of seats but no desks.
They get paid $100 a year plus mileage and are expected to get their legislative work done in 45 days and go back to the real world. On the other hand, there are only 24 state senators, or one per 60,000 people. The state’s motto, which intrigues me, is “Live free or die” and is attributed to a Revolutionary War general, John Stark. Bought the tee shirt. An enormous statue of Daniel Webster graces the front lawn of the state house.
After saying good-bye to John and Barbara and negotiating our way backwards out of their driveway the next stop on our New England tour was Williamstown, Vermont just a few miles southeast of the capital city of Montpelier. Given that Vermont is such a small state and not heavily populated, it’s hard to understand why Montpelier is so very congested. Everybody in the state, including children and pets, must drive around alone in their cars all day. We plunked a fistful of quarters into a parking meter and headed up the several flights of stairs to the massive pine doors. Painted on the outside to look like bronze and inside to look like mahogany, they lead directly to the welcoming committee, a group of tour guides waiting to show off their state’s capitol. Fire consumed an earlier version of the capitol and so when it was rebuilt it was made as fire-proof as the technology of the day allowed. Which means cast-iron abounds – stair risers, radiator covers, supporting columns. A statue of Ethan Allen guards the front door and the Goddess of Agriculture tops the golden dome. The legislative chambers are beautifully restored to their original condition….or as close to original as old photos and building plans would allow.
I was disappointed that the drive to The Vermont Country Store was in excess of 80 miles so we decided instead to make the much shorter drive to visit Rock of Ages Granite Quarry near Barre. 
A tour guide accompanied us on the bus ride up to the quarry and provided a wealth of astounding facts regarding the granite memorial business. Just the sheer weight of granite is mind-boggling…166 pounds per cubic foot. Extrapolate that to the size of the blocks being lifted from the quarry and one is instantly awed by the strength of the derricks doing the lifting. And how close to impossible it must have been back in the days when they used horses to drag the slabs out. The days of blasting with dynamite are gone, along with the huge percentage of waste material. Quarrying doesn’t look high-tech but it is. Artisans turn the stone into beautiful and lasting memorials but also into machine parts both large and small. We saw some enormous cylinders which are used to extract the water from wood pulp in order to make newsprint.
Rock of Ages has been in operation since 1905 when it was formed as the Boutwell, Milne & Varnum Company, and they’ve used just 1% of their total supply of granite. According to the guide, they have enough left for another 4000 years. During a tour of the gift shop/museum I came across a bas relief of some of the artwork which was installed at the Libby Dam in Montana in the 1970s. Rock of Ages also provided many of the granite tributes at the WWII Memorial in Washington, D.C. And of course the Vermont State House is made from Barre granite. We were told that a majority of the quarrymen came from Scotland, near Aberdeen, and they settled in the highlands above Barre. The stone carvers came primarily from the Carrera region of Italy and they choose to live in Barre in the valley. Our guide urged us to visit Hope Cemetery where many of them are buried, their graves graced with tombstones of their own handiwork.
With the afternoon fading fast, we headed northeast to the small town of Cabot for a tour of the Cabot Creamery. Owned by a consortium of dairy farmers, the factory has been in operation since 1919 and has won many prizes for their fine cheddars. There was a lot of elbowing and jockeying for position around a counter spread with samples of many of the flavored cheeses Cabot produces. The habanero cheddar cleared my sinuses quick as a wink…it’s not a subtle cheese. They were all delicious, as were the dips and butter. Our guide told us that it takes ten pounds of milk to make one pound of cheese. We saw curds and whey being stirred in an enormous long vat, the whey eventually draining away (a-whey) and leaving the curds to be pressed into blocks. The guide pointed out that New Englanders prefer white cheddar, the natural color, but that Cabot had trouble selling it “outside” where folks were used to yellow cheddar. Sales picked right up when they began adding an organic color to the cheese.
It was hotter than blue blazes (and humid to boot) when we visited the Hope Cemetery on Saturday. One can hardly imagine the array of monuments! There are some that were selected straight from the catalog but most are unique, lasting tributes to the skill and imagination of the carvers. Some are austere, some elegant, some ostentatious with some whimsical themes thrown in for good measure.
We are now returning to New York, in the Hudson Valley where we will make sorties to visit the Connecticut capitol in Hartford and New York’s state house in Albany. That will leave just Hawaii’s page in the passport unstamped. Maybe when they finish the bridge….
