CapeCod and beyond!
When going to Cape Cod, you have two choices, well three if you count going by boat. Otherwise, you get to choose one of the two identical bridges. It is either the Sagamore Bridge for the northern route of the Cape, or the Bourne Bridge going to the Southern side of things. Why a bridge has the word SAG in it, I'm not sure.
These bridges were built at the same time, starting in 1933. That explains the narrow lanes, a high right-hand curb to bounce off like a wayward billiard ball, and let’s not forget the low guardrail.
At least they let you see where you will plunge 636 feet to the water. Both are due to be replaced soon. Each is like the other, no difference, so you take the one closest to your destination.
Sagamore Bridge, we go.
The following is my attempt at a catchy 2- yr old rhyming verse, a la Dr. Suess. Don’t hate me. This is dedicated to my Granddaughter, Cameron.
One Bridge, Two bridge! They are the same bridge, only two.
How can that be?
Army strong, the Corp builds strong. One Bridge, Two bridge.
One Bridge, Two Bridge, which shall we take over the water?
One to use, a must, a fuss, since a Flying Beast we not be.
One or Two, and awayyyy…. we go.
Up…Up..and Up some more,
Cars do it, so many cars.
So many cars going Up, Up, Up…
Trucks do it too.
So many Trucks going, Up, Up, Up.
Why can’t we do it?
Why do we look in fear at going Up, Up, Up?
Here we Goooooo…
Up, Up, Up.
One Bridge, Two Bridge, up we go slow!
A grip so tight on the steering wheel we hold, going slow.
Neither wall, nor car, nor big rig, swiped…climbing to the tippy top!
Such a view to see, if we could just open our eyes.
Down we go, uh oh…. Da brakes boss, da brakes!
Brakes are good, oh my…
The engine roars and goes Whoaaaaaa, bringing the Beast in for a landing.
With a snort of flame and wheezing of breath, we find safety below our wings afleet,
Having defeated the mighty bridge, once again.
The End, (fortunately)
Finding our feet back on earth, we made our way to the interior of Cape Cod. Where the heck do people live, all you see is scrub oak and sand. Definitely, one of those times pulling off to the shoulder would not be advised.
Someone would stick a sign there, that says here lies the Beast where they were sucked into the sand, never to be seen again.
A short time driving from the nefarious sinister bridges, we found our RV Park, nestled in the family-vested farmlands of Sweetwater Farms. Another gem, this one in the wilds of Cape Cod. I could hear a faint whisper, a siren song off the bay. You and the Beast will have to pass over one of us, come back, come back. The bridges were mocking me, knowing I have to return.
In an RV, on CapeCod? Please plan a stay at Sweetwater Farms.
Check out the RV Park website to know more. Trees on every lot, nestled in your rig, among them and well shaded.
I dare you to say you already know this next factoid.
**Acorns fall from the mighty oaks twice a day, dusk and dawn.**
How do we know this, you ask?
Well, an acorn at 100-foot, drifting to earth sounds like an asteroid rock hitting the roof. Trust me when I say. It happens twice a day.
We took the car and drove eastward the next day to explore. Clear to the tip of the Cape, we went.
Province-town is unique. A runaway seaside cottage town. Bicycles, cars, and pedestrians all vying for the same patch of decaying blacktop. Plan on parking and bringing a bike to get around. Otherwise, you are too focused on not hitting someone in the street to enjoy the atmosphere of Key-West in the north country.
Literally, homes are along the roads, something you would imagine only in a small European village from a century ago.
We visited several of the beaches, soaking up some sun at each stop. The one disconcerting item is the waving flags at the lifeguard stands, a blue flag with a shark picture on it. If that isn’t enough to scare you from entering the water, the hefty Jaws™ inspired sign at each beach that says, “Great Whites frequent these waters, swim with caution!” might give you pause. Needless to say, our taste for the water was deflated a bit.
We like ice. In an RV with a small freezer and no large chest freezer in the garage to hold crystal clear ice until needed, we were at an impasse.
Ice melts in any dang cooler you buy. We have tried a few. Then came a countertop Icemaker. It does reasonably well. Still not getting the kind of ice, the crystal clear, free of any taste ice, we are used too…
We found the perfect solution on line. A freezer/refrigerator, no bigger than that cooler you take tailgating. It operates on 12 volts or a 110 power adaptor like a laptop. Within a half-hour, it was down to below zero. Impressive. My son and I built a platform for it to sit unmolested between the front seats over the engine doghouse. When traveling, we move it to the hallway. Ice is good, case closed.
On the go a lot? Check out the line of them.
I think one of the pluses of RV life and traveling is the times of meeting up with old friends, having dinner and talking over past adventures. You'll recall last we visited with Mona and Marla in Vermont. On the Cape we got to visit with Bob and Allison, is was great seeing you.
On our planning radar is always a Thousand Trails RV Park, since we are members. Thousand-Trails-the RV campgrounds network that is, is fantastic! Recently, being the avid weather watchers we are, a dilemma front adn center was rain in the forecast at out next destination. We made a joint decision to forego our destination in Virginia on the Chesapeake due to the impending forecast. We were somewhat trapped in a park that happened to be Thousand Trails. A well tended, well managed park full of like minded folks.
Being hopeful, I drove to the Ranger Station (office) on my last scheduled day. Our hope was to sit right where we were and wait out the rain. This Park is overall mostly booked, it is still summer vacation time. I braced for the inevitable comment of them not being able to accommodate us.
Thoughts of hunkering down in a WalMart parking lot going through my brain.
Hershey RV Park in Lebanon, PA, has an excellent friendly staff. They searched the database and were ready, willing, and able to accommodate my extended stay, without so much as even changing sites. Kim, the Park Manager, happened to be coming by the Ranger Station at the time. Despite the early hour, sipping her coffee, was pleasant and most helpful. My membership number was confusing the computer. It appears my Upgrade to Ultimate Odyssey, a designation of membership, was not showing. Kim got to the bottom of it and found my new membership number. THANK-YOU. Now we don’t have to break camp and drive in the rain, sitting for days in the rainy weather. Instead, we had sunshine and lollipops, right where we were.
It just gets better !
At the ranger station Kim, the Manager, had brought a jar of homemade Salsa to the co-worker on duty tending the gate. I, in my jovial way, yes dammit I have one, said, “So where is mine? Two afternoons later, she arrived at my campsite and bestowed a jar of the same Salsa. Hot, as in spicy, but we washed it down with a bag of Tortilla chips. Not many folks in the customer service field would go to such lengths for a client. Kim, along with the entuire staff at Hershey RV Park, are over the top!
We had managed to change our itinerary on the fly. The rain gods were not happy. After sitting in Hershey a few more days, we headed south, dodging raindrops. We arrived at our alternative travel itinerary staying west of any rain. New Market, VA. it was. Why you might ask.
Well, it was about halfway to our undisclosed secret location, close to my eye doctor’s appointment. We both are learning that traveling in the BEAST for more than 250 miles at a time is more than enough.
As i've said before, its the journey not the destination.
What we discovered was a very unique RV park. More than just a park, it is also host to the venture known as Endless Caverns. A one hour guided tour underground is genuinely breathtaking for the unacquainted spelunker. This opportunity was one I refused to pass up. Imagine an RV Park where you get to walk out your front door and arrive at such a fantastic spectacle of nature.
As my guide related to my group of one, yes, it was just me, I was told the History of discovering the Caverns. My guide, Haley told me the cavern was found by two boys hunting rabbits. They had chased a ‘Wiley wabbit’ down a hole. Most likely, the rabbit escaped the dinner table one more time that day. In the process of moving a few rocks, the wonders of Endless Caverns became known. Of course, it was pitch black down there in the fall of 1879. Candles revealed the expanse of truly unexplored caverns. A home to bats and spiders until now. The boy’s parents ventured in only so far, convinced they were seeing the roots of their crops coming through the roof of the cave. Actually, the Stalactites and Stalagmites were extensive and still are.
A humorous side is how during Prohibition after electric lighting parted the dark in 1927, a large circular room became a bar and dance floor a few years later. A large boulder shaped like a table served well for a few years. I can’t imagine putting your best clothes on to go below ground to the party. I thought drinking in a friend’s backyard on a Friday night was crazy.
Outside, the RV park is a marvel in terraced farming. RV sites carved level on a steep grade. Driving in and up, following the Camp Host, you wonder if you’ll make it uphill. Soon you find yourself on a level drive all your own. Surrounding the Park is a well-tended trail. Miles of walking in the woods depending on your desire for exercise. I made a loop going halfway around the perimeter one evening. Honestly, this is in our TOP 5 RV parks.
After our stay, visiting local businesses, getting behind a few buggies. Wait, no, we never saw a one. In reality, what we found was an entire grocery store run by Calico clad women—impressive effort and ingenuity for low prices, and good choices.
Excitedly, we packed up and headed back to where this leg of our journey started—our undisclosed secret location in Virginia. From here, we plot and plan our way South on our next exciting adventure.
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Chronicling our adventures and laughing at our own foibles is enjoyable. Life is too short. Laughing at oneself is one of those things that bring others closer. The enjoyment of writing is only as good as knowing it puts a smile on the faces of those reading it.