Author: cpp@alum.mit.edu

Grange Fairgrounds (July 1)

We pulled into the Grange Fairgrounds in the early afternoon, and were soon met by Ryan Frankhauser, the organizer of the Bluegrass Festival. Although camping was not supposed to start until the 2nd, and the festival itself not until the afternoon of the 5th, there were already quite a few campers set up. We selected a shady site close to the main gate – no sewer, but close to the showers and bathroom.

One of the interesting features of the Grange Fairground are the benches.  Each has been donated – some by businesses but most as memorials to special occasions or special people.  This last idea makes great sense to me.  How comforting to sit on a bench in a location where one made happy memories with someone, and think of that person.  Since many local families have been attending the fair for generations, and family members come from all over the world to attend the fair, this is a much more meaningful memorial than a gravesite visit.  I selected one of these benches for the blog because it shows the kind of devotion that local families have to the Grange Fair.  I selected the other because it shows how much the fair is part of local life and culture.

The Grange Fair itself lasts for 10 days at the end of August.  At that time, the fairgrounds become a village with thousands of permanent residents (1500 tents and 1500 RVs) and many services.  This is the hairdressing salon, waiting for August.

 

July 2 was the official start of camping for the Bluegrass Festival and the place began to fill up.  However, we arranged to go to Harrisburg with friends Don and Mindy to visit Don’s daughter Suzanne.

Although only a few campers arrived on the 1st, the music was already beginning.  Neighbor Andy demonstrated some of his guitar method, and explained how he had decided to learn to play at age 58.  He has since acquired a fair number of instruments (and good technique.) He spent a fair amount of time trying to convince me that I should take up guitar too.

 When we got back to the campsite after our visit with Suzanne, we found that campers were already organizing jam sessions.  We went to a session with many musicians organized by our neighbor on the other side, Tom. People seem to have got to know one another through many years of meeting at bluegrass events.  The talent was pretty amazing – these were just the audience, not the performers.

We were not sure of the etiquette, so we brought chairs and cookies.  The former were necessities, the latter apparently not usually done (although a lot of cookies got eaten).

We had been getting calls from Chuck’s sister Karen.  She just bought an RV in California, and was in the process of driving it home to Connecticut.  On the 3rd, she was toodling along I80, which passes right by State College.  We arranged to meet her in the Lamar truck stop, to see the new RV.  We will be camping with her and other family members at the end of August.  (No Grange Fair for us – but that is OK as there is absolutely no way to get a campsite at the fair.)

When we got back to the campsite, the jams were in full swing.  We were planning to hang around and listen to music, but we started talking with our newest neighbors, Jan and Ed.  This lovely couple, originally from Long Island but now living in Oneonta, were completely charming and we spent the evening exchanging anecdotes and RV tips.

For July 4, we had a busy day.  Friends Susie and Phil invited us for a bike ride on the local Rails to Trails trail.  We have lived in State College for 17 years and did not even know that this beautiful 16 mile trail existed!  We will certainly want to bike this route many times in the future.  (And maybe take some photos with our friends, too!)

For dinner, we were invited to a BBQ by our friends Amy and Bob.  They always invite an interesting mix of people, so the discussion is lively.  And, once again, I forgot to take any photos!

We always go to the fireworks, and I like to get as close as possible.  If my stomach does not vibrate at each blast, we are not close enough.  The town always has a festival, and this time this local hot air balloon, which frequently sails over our house, was there to give tethered rides.  This year’s display was excellent.  As well, there was a spectacular sunset

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After the fireworks, we returned to the campsite, anticipating the Bluegrass Festival to begin the next day.

 

 

Home Again (June 25)

Our house was rented to one person from Jan. 1 through June 30 and to another from July 1 through December 31. It seemed prudent to check for damage, etc between renters, so we have headed home. Our first renter, a new faculty member at Penn State, had finished moving to his newly purchased house at the end of May, so we released him from his last week of the lease, and were looking forward to being at the house.

The trip from Ithaca to State College, is now only about 3 hours, due to road improvements, and I have to say that more frequent visits will be in our future. However, we did not get off to an early start. Since we needed to drive the RV to the house to unload, and then to the Grange Fairground to park, this was a bit worrisome.

When we pulled up to the house, we immediately saw that we had new neighbours next door. We went over to introduce ourselves, and we are looking forward to getting to know Anna and Carl better when we get back. We had a fairly long talk, so we feel like we know them a bit. They helped us move my mother’s (very heavy) carpet and also gave us a tour of their house.

Between our visit with them and all the things we wanted to unload (things from my mother’s house, items from the RV which we were not using, and lots and lots of laundry) we took quite a bit of time. However, we were able to get our RV to the Grange Fairgrounds during daylight to find a storage spot. Fortunately, there were others parking at the same time, was we found a appropriate parking space even though none of the staff were around.

The next day was a heavy working day for me, with a Ph.D. defense and a meeting with a graduate student. We also had a ridiculously big stack of mail, considering that we had picked up the mail only a few weeks previous.

Most of the week was spent doing practical stuff around the house, or just enjoying being home.  I put up the bird feeder, and was pleased to find that our yard attracts a variety of birds, including a humming bird.  I was surprised at just how quickly my flower beds had become completely overgrown with weeds.  I seldom spend a lot of time weeding, but I guess pulling a few each day keeps then down when we are home.  I was pleased, however, that I was able to enjoy garlic and kale from the garden, so that I got to enjoy some of my summer bounty.

I was a bit disappointed to find that the Wednesday departmental lunch had stopped for the summer, but enjoyed lunch with friend Don instead, while Chuck went to work.  In the evening Chuck and I had dinner with Murali, Jim and Gloria.

Thursday and Friday were spent doing things around the house and walking around the neighborhood.  The construction that was started on our street last summer is supposed to be completed this summer, but keeps stalling, so there were great piles of gravel and huge sections of pipe at various places.

State College has sprouted lawn signs.  When I left, quite a few people had signs supporting inclusiveness – our nice protest at the current state of the government.  To this have been added signs protesting development of land on the watershed for more housing.

The land in dispute is currently owned by Penn State.  Penn State is a land grant university.  The land grant universities were established by the federal government around the time of the civil war, in order to provide better agricultural and engineering training.  Because the government was short of funds but rich in land, each university was granted a large amount of land, which they were to use to fund the development of the university – by use, by sale or whatever means they had to raise capital.  (Interesting factoid: Cornell U almost did not get built because the land they were granted was so useless.)  So, Penn State’s sale of land, although unusual at this point in time, is in keeping with the purposes for which the land was granted.  The controversy over the sale seems to depend on two points: the fact that the need for funds at this time may be due to the huge expenses incurred due to the Sandusky scandal, and the possibility that development might impact water quality.  With signs on many lawns, the battle lines are now clearly drawn up but we will wait until we really get back to see if we need to wade into this controversy.

We needed several trips to the RV to bring back all the laundry, etc that we had unloaded.  However, by Saturday morning we were ready for our new tenant, a freshly minted law professor with a 6 month contract at PSU.

We were happy to meet the new tenant, who seems like a very reasonable guy.  His main interest is in working, and he immediately asked whom he could hire to take care of the lawn and do some cleaning.  He just accepted a position in England for next January, so not having to purchase any household items is definitely a bonus for him.

By Saturday afternoon, we were set up at the Grange Fairgrounds.

 

 

 

Ithaca/Enfield (June 18)

Traveling from 1000 Islands to Ithaca should be straightward.  We crossed the 1000 Islands bridges and got directly onto I81.  However, Ithaca is not on a major highway and we had to meander on smaller roads to get to our campsite near Robert H. Treman Park.   (We might have preferred to stay at one of Ithaca’s 3 state parks, but we made the reservation before we learned the deficiencies of the on-line system. ) Although we were not in the park, the Finger Lakes Trail borders the campground.

Our campsite was right beside the campground pond.  I expected to hear the same melodious frog sounds I heard on Wellesley Island.  However, this pond is filled with bull frogs, which call all night and most of the day, filling the campground with load croaks that sound like fog horns (and are almost as loud).

This is a big birding area. Several of the more permanent campsites had feeders, and we found a branch for ours as well. We filled the feeder with freshly purchased bird food, and were very soon rewarded with exactly what was promised on the bag: cardinals, blue jays, rosy grosbeaks, several types of woodpeckers and finches, as well as birds not listed: a large number of redwing blackbirds (visiting from the pond) and various types of sparrows (which we cannot yet tell apart).

The weather was very hot and muggy when we arrived.  It was not surprising that a major thunderstorm hit that night, with impressively high winds.  However, we were secure in the RV.

Chuck is still “RV watching” as there are many different combinations of vehicles.  He was intrigued by this rig – the cab of a big transport truck, carrying a jeep and pulling a full-sized travel trailer.

On Monday we headed into town, planning to go to Stewart Park, drive by our former house, etc.  However, when we reached downtown, our tire pressure gauge was complaining about low pressure.  A quick check at a service station showed that it was the new tire which replaced our flat in Boston!  This time, however, our problem occurred at mid-day, with lots of options for service.  We pulled into a place on Rte 13 to see what could be done.

Having learned that would we have to wait at least a couple of hours for service, we decided to pick up fast food for lunch and hike a mile to Buttermilk Falls State Park, which is just south of town.

As the T-shirt says: “Ithaca is Gorges”.  Buttermilk Falls is just a sample of the 4  major gorges/waterfalls in the area.

When the kids were very young they were in Sue’s daycare, which is only a couple of blocks from the Falls.  On nice afternoons in the summer, Sue would transport the kids to the park and do pick-up from there.  It is such a lovely spot that we started packing supper and having a picnic most evenings.  So our picnic lunch at the park was both scenic and nostalgic.  We also hiked much of the trail that goes along the falls to the upper park. I cannot say I recall ever visiting the upper park. This time, just as we were about to emerge at the top, we got the call that the tire had been repaired.

Fortunately, the tire could be patched.  Fixing the tire was enough excitement for one day. We went grocery shopping and then back to the campsite.

Tuesday, as usual, was a work day, and we did not do much else.

Wednesday we headed out to Taughannock Falls State Park – another waterfall hike. The river has cut a very deep gorge – up to 400 feet deep in some spots – and we did a large loop at the top of the gorge rim, as well as a walk along the river bed to the falls and back. We also took a side trip to the shore of Cayuga Lake.  A lot of walking and beautiful scenery was involved. The final climb from the lake to the rim of the canon was a bit much for Rumple, but he did make it.

 

 

 

The Cayuga Lake shore.

 

 

As we headed back to the campground,  our car engine light went on, indicating that the engine was overheating. We pulled into a shopping plaza, and discovered that we had no engine coolant. A kind person stopped to help, and took Chuck to Walmart to buy coolant. (He was on the way to supper with his wife and 2 young kids, so this was particularly kind.) Refilling the tank with coolant allowed us to get back to the campsite, but in the morning the level was down considerably.  Since we were headed to State College, we decided to delay repairs until we got home.  We were able to keep using the car by refilling the coolant tank twice daily.

On Thursday we went to Robert H. Treman State Park and walked its gorge trail. It is quite lovely – very similar to Watkins Glen, which for some reason is more famous. It has 3 waterfalls, one of which empties into a lovely swimming area (which was under renovation when we visited).  Since then there has been a lot of rain, which does not bode well for the renovation.  See video on the Robert H. Treman Park facebook page https://www.facebook.com/204962196191935/videos/vb.204962196191935/1569588749729266/?type=2&theater)

In the evening we went to Ithaca Commons and met our friend Gale for dinner. I have been friends with Gale’s husband, Joe since our undergraduate days in mathematics at U. of Toronto (1971?) and I have known Gale since I stayed with them on a trip to California that led to my going to graduate school (around 1983).   They moved to Ithaca a few years after we did, and their two older kids were in Jonathan’s classes in elementary school. Unfortunately, everyone but Gale and younger son Daniel were out of town.

For dinner we had  “Chinese tapas” on Ithaca Commons.  This  idea, which we had encountered in Toronto, has not yet made it to State College, but it should.  The idea is to order many small plates of food which can be shared or hogged.  This gives even greater variety than the usual family-style Chinese meal, and is similar to the banquets I enjoyed in Beijing.

For dessert we moved to another place that I think had just opened when we left Ithaca. (Due to the Cornell Hotel School, Ithaca has a fluid restaurant scene – only a few of our old favorites, including, of course, Moosewood, are still operating.)  We ended the evening at Gale’s house, so we could visit with Daniel, who had been at work during dinnertime.

On Friday we took a day to visit friends. Chuck met his friend John, with whom he used to work, and I met with Bonnie, who has also moved away, but visits Ithaca frequently and happened to be there when we were.  While waiting for Chuck to finish up, I also took a quick bike ride on the new trails that go along the flood canals.

After lunch we visited some of our old haunts. We started with Ithaca Falls, which is very close to the high school and our old house. The falls used to be completely unmarked, and reached by a poor (although very short) trail. Now there is a small park , parking and a proper path. (Whether all of this still exist 3 weeks later, as I write, is dubious due to several torrential rainfalls. Here is a link to a recently posted video. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Mosp4eaaiY) In any case, the falls were in their full glory for our visit.

We then went to our old house (improved by the addition of a much-needed front porch). Can you believe that this beautiful stream was on the boundary of our property.?  Elisabeth and her friends Kerri and Monika used to turn over the stones to look for salamanders. Our backyard was also the favorite grazing spot for a herd of about 20 deer. (There is no backyard in Ithaca that was not the grazing spot of at least a few deer.) I had a substantial vegetable garden which had been put in by the former owner of the house, a retired farmer. He had an electric fence, but after electrocuting a squirrel, I decided to protect my veggies with a 7 foot wire fence – and that was frequently breeched. (No chance to peek in the backyard to see what the new owners did to the substantial yard.)

We also visited Stewart Park, on the end of Cayuga Lake, with magnificent old weeping willows (many of which had to be replaced during our time in Ithaca, because they do get old and more vulnerable to the wind).  We also went to Sunset Park, which is near our old house – tiny but with an impressive view of the lake.

Finally we went out to the Cornell Lab of Ornithology. I took a very nice sabbatical there, studying whale vocalizations in the Bioacoustics Lab. I had a little slice of window, overlooking the main pond and a bunch of bird feeders (with an amusing set of visitors including birds, squirrels and raccoons). We took the main hike around the pond (despite some rain) but unfortunately the new lab building, which was in the planning stages when we left, was already closed.

One interesting feature of the hike were tiny frogs, about the size of my pinkie fingernail, which were hopping across the paths.  A google search revealed that these are baby toads.  Apparently baby frogs avoid being eaten by aquatic predators by growing quickly into big tadpoles, while baby toads avoid being eaten by aquatic predators by metamorphizing into tiny toads and getting out of the water.  Neither of us had ever seen these babies before, so we must have been there at just the right time when they left the water looking for hiding spots.

For our dinner we met up with our friend Sandy (mother of Kerri and Monika) at the Sunset Cafe, near Ithaca College.This offers a wonderful view over the lake. We had been out of touch with Sandy since Elisabeth’s bat mitzvah (11 years ago) so there was a lot of catching up to do.

On Saturday morning we parked at Stewart Park and rode our bikes to Ithaca Framers’ Market to meet Gale for brunch.  Ithaca Farmers’ Market is more like a city market than a small town farmers’ market, with a lot of prepared foods, handicrafts, and music, along with a few farm vendors. When we lived in Ithaca, it was THE place I liked to take the kids on the weekend – we would buy some snacks and fruit, climb the willow trees on the flood canals, feed the ducks and listen to live music, as well as seeing friends. Many of my favorite vendors are still there, along with the trees and the ducks. There seemed to be a bit less music, but we were at the exact right distance to enjoy the music from the festival that was taking place at Stewart Park.

John had invited us to visit him at home, so that was our next stop. Like Chuck, he is a software engineer. However, he has a very active hobby handcrafting guitars. We toured his workshop and learned quite a bit about how a guitar is put together, and what to look for in terms of sound.  We did not hear him play any of his creations, but he gave us a CD he had recorded which we are enjoying when we drive.  We were very impressed by the craftmanship in the guitars, including a lot of inlay work. As well, his wife Joanne is a fine quilter. We enjoyed our visit and were very impressed by their skills.

From there we headed off to visit our friends David and Lisa, who had just returned from a trip to Madagascar. (David is an international economist, and spends a lot of time in Africa.) They seem to have had a fascinating trip, and it was good to catch up with them. As well, their youngest daughter, Emma, returned from a trip to Europe during our visit. We last saw Emma when she was about 8, so seeing her as a recent high school graduate was very nice. The two older kids, Alexander and Lily, who were in elementary school with our kids being almost exactly the same age, are (of course) off doing their own thing.

 

Wellesley Island (June 15)

Having concluded our business in Toronto, and with the intention of arriving in State College by June 25, we decided to go to Ithaca, NY via Thousand Islands at the east end of Lake Ontario.  I had also hoped to visit Presqu’ile Provincial Park en route – however, with the levels of Lake Ontario up by about 40″ we concluded that the impressive shoreline would be under water.  So, we headed directly to Wellesley Island State Park, which lies just on the US side of the first 1000 Islands bridge over the St. Lawrence.  Again very little difficulty at the border except that we had to surrender our fresh tomatoes.

The on-line reservation system stated that there were only 5 campsites available, none with any services.  So, when we pulled into our uninspiring campsite, we were surprised to see that the park appeared to be mostly empty.  The park is huge, with 7 camping areas each with about 100 sites.

The following morning, Rumple and I went for a lengthy walk along one of the shores and through several of the campgrounds.  It is the egg laying season for snapping turtles.  The highlight of the walk was watching a large snapping turtle dig a nest by the roadside.

In the afternoon, Chuck and I biked along the same route and more, exploring the entire camping area and marina of the park.  We rescued a small snapping turtle who was crossing the road, but diverting a car and then encouraging the beast to move along to the edge of the road.  The small ones, at least, can really scramble when they need to.  We also saw a lot of turtle egg “shells”.  I guess that the nests are preyed on by various birds and small mammals.

Chuck had the brilliant idea of checking at the office to see if any better campsites were available.  It seems that NY State park campsites are mainly NOT on the on-line reservation system, and we should have checked when we checked in.  In any case, we were able to move to a site with electricity, which made our stay much more pleasant, as we could use our appliances.  Most importantly, since we had booked a boat tour of the Islands and the weather was predicted to be very hot, we had air conditioning, which made it possible to leave Rumple in the RV.

On Saturday we headed off to the mainland to start our boat tour – only to find that the on-line booking system for the tour was also defective.  The tour operator decided to give us free tickets for a tour later in the day, and we went into the little town of Clayton for lunch and a walking tour.  We ate overlooking the St. Lawrence Seaway, and watched a couple of big freighters cruise through.  Clayton was having a dog diving competition, and we watched for a while as the dogs jumped into a dockside pool and swam their laps.

In the afternoon, we boarded our little tour boat and enjoyed a 3 hour cruise around the islands.  It is really lovely.  Needless to say, there are some huge mansions including Boldt Castle (which can be toured, although we decided not to).   The water was very high, and some of the islands had nothing but the cottage or a tree visible.  It was a very nice thing to do on a very hot afternoon, and we definitely got a better view of the islands than would be possible by either car or kayak.

Oddly, in what appears to be a prime kayaking environment, we used our bikes but not our kayaks.  Perhaps if we had just one additional day …

My final activity on 1000 Islands was to retrace my morning hike alone in the dark.  I have always liked walking in the dark – preferably without a flashlight.  However, there were several deserted stretches of road that I found rather spooky – it was easy to imagine coming upon a wild animal (although I suspect that the eyes I saw glowing in the dark belonged to someone’s straying cat).  It was all worth it to listen to the plethora of night noises – especially the chirping of the frogs.

 

 

Toronto (Indian Line – June 3)

Saturday dawned clear and warm. Considering that we only stayed one night in Barcelona, we had unpacked a ridiculous amount of stuff, but we are now expert packers and got off pretty promptly.

We made a slight mistake with our EZpass, which we will likely need to fix online. EZpass is a transponder for paying tolls in the NE US and along the Canadian border. The rates are different for cars, RVs and RVs towing cars, so we actually have 3 transponders, one for each condition. However, until we went through the toll booth, we forgot that we had both the car and the RV+car transponders active. We’ll have to see what we are charged when we get the bill. The helpline was not that helpful, but the person thought we could get the car charge removed due to the concurrent timing.

Incidentally, going through the toll booths with the RV is not really problematic, as long as you can drive straight. There is not much room side-to-side and when possible we use the truck lanes.

We were expecting to be delayed at customs going into Canada, but it was no more difficult than with the car. The customs agent joked about our taking everything “including the kitchen sink” and waved us through. We hope it will be as easy in the other direction.

We camped at the Indian Line Recreation Area, at the intersection of 407, 427 and W. Finch.  I do not recollect this recreation area from my childhood.  However, in the summer of 1975, I took a solo bicycle and camping trip to McMichael gallery, and I must have camped at this spot, as it is the only one in the area.  The campground has nothing to offer but campsites, so it is not surprising that we did not take any family trips there.  It does sit on the edge of a flood control reservoir, which attracts a lot of birds, but there are no hiking trails, swimming or other recreational activities.

Since the campground is very close to Toronto International Airport, we were worried that it would be noisy.  Actually, we could not hear the planes.  What we could hear, very loudly, were the traffic from Finch Ave and the freight train line that runs beside it. Both had very constant traffic.  However, because the noise is steady, and because most of our campsites have been close to interstate highways and hence traffic noise, we did not find it terribly disturbing.

For the first week, we were camped on the edge of the campground, practically on Finch.  Although this was noisy, we did enjoy a pair of Baltimore orioles who lived in a roadside tree.  For the second week, we moved into the interior of the campground, where an unhappy family kept us awake with their fighting and other problems.

The campground is large enough so that a walk around the perimeter is quite a bit of exercise.  As well, it has a quite varied landscape and proved to have quite a number of birds.  One of the people we met was a fellow originally from Morocco and then France, who had lived much of his life in Toronto and was a keen birder.  After he retired he moved into an RV, and spends his summers at Indian Line and his winters in another Canadian campground.  He knew a lot about birds and was very entertaining, although his promise to show us an evening bird, the woodcock, did not pan out.

Although the campground only operates in the summer, it had a lot of seasonal campers.  We were amazed to learn that many of the campers were there for various construction jobs, especially the TransCanada Pipeline.  These guys were very friendly and helpful – several came from towns not that far from Toronto but got tired of commuting more than an hour in each direction.  As well, there seemed to be several families, although school was still in session.  Finally, there were the folks using the campground like a cottage, although, as I said, it was not particularly attractive.

In any case, it was very convenient for us, as it was less than 30 minutes to my mother’s house, even during rush hour.  As well, it was fairly convenient for visiting friends.

I took a daily trip to the house to “supervise” the estate sale (but really to agonize over what she decided to trash without even trying to sell).  In the end, the sale was on June 11.  We barely cleared the cost of hauling away the trash and things that did not sell and could not be donated.  However, the house was very clean when she was done, and I spent only a few hours doing some vacuuming and rolling up a carpet which I decided to save when it did not sell.

I have mixed feelings about doing a sale this way.  I have to admit that I already have more china etc than I need and that had I taken more it would probably just collect dust in my basement.  Getting any big furniture to State College was out of the question.  And we needed to leave enough items in the house so that the sale agent was willing to do the work.  On the other hand, I still ended up spending 2 weeks at the house and saw a lot of beautiful (but slightly damaged) items hauled to the trash .  Fortunately, it is unlikely that I will ever need to do this again.

It was not all work.  We had two delightful dinners with my friend Susan, and she also took us to the Art Gallery of Ontario (AGO) for the Georgia O’Keefe exhibit.  I was shocked to learn that O’Keefe was repelled by the characterization of her work as erotic – even after learning this, I could not help but see all the suggestive holes and passages as female symbols.  AGO also has a great collection of Tom Thompson and Group of Seven paintings, and I could have spent more time there.  As well, the building has been beautifully renovated since I was last there – we were able to enjoy the renovation while enjoying a snack in the gallery cafe.

We also visited my childhood friend Michael and met his wife Shanette.  It was at lunch with them that I realized that I had enjoyed a Toronto specialty – not once but 3 times, with them, with Susan and with Therese.  This is a tapas-type Chinese meal.  I am not talking about dim sum, but rather the “tasting menu” which seems to be a feature of several Toronto area Chinese restaurants.  For one price, you can order endlessly from the menu – each small  plate made up by order.  They are large enough to share, but only about 1/4 the size of the usual “family-style” Chinese menu item.

After visiting Michael and Shanette, we headed out to the Royal Botanical Gardens to the west of Toronto.  We broke our usual habit of visiting botanical gardens between flowering seasons.  This time, both the irises and the peonies were making very colorful displays.  However, I think we missed the best of the gardens, the Rock Garden, so we will need to go back another time.  The Gardens also had an interesting display of Lego sculptures of garden flora and fauna like this huge hummingbird.

We also went out for dinner with Michael’s mother, Margie, who was practically a second mother to me during my teenage and early adult years.  Margie has been an inspiration in so many ways – not the least of which is the extent to which she has remained fit, active and totally current.

I also spent some time with other childhood friends of my mother’s generation, Rinah and Ze’ev.  I am lucky that my parents had such good friends and that I have been able to keep in touch with them over the years.

The campground is in a part of Toronto that has a large (Asian) Indian population.  Just a few blocks away is the impressive and beautiful BAPS Shri Swaminarayan Mandir, a stunning temple.  The entrance area is all intricately carved wood. My photo does not do it justice.

The main temple is a confection of lacey carved marble.  (http://www.baps.org/Global-Network/North-America/Toronto/Visitor-Info.aspx).  It was carved in India and then shipped piece by piece to Toronto.  It is quite an amazing piece of work! Photos are not allowed inside.  

 

 

 

 

 

We took advantage of being in the Indian part of Toronto by having dinner with Don and Judy at a dosa place in The Punjab Plaza, a large strip mall with almost entirely Indian stores and restaurants.  We found the dosa fillings a bit spicy.

For our final evening in Toronto, we attempted to have dinner again with my brother Louis.  Unfortunately, this time he refused to exit the car.  So, he went home hungry and we returned to the Montmartre without him.  I am not sure how we will handle the next visit.

 

Barcelona (June 2)

Friday morning we hopped in the car and headed back to the US to pick up our RV. The trip was uneventful and all seems to be well with the RV.

We went back to our campsite in Barcelona to spend the evening and pick up the kayaks. We had a pleasant dinner overlooking the lake at the BBQ place in Barcelona, and took a walk on the windy beach. We also tried out all our recently repaired RV systems.

Remember the broken kayak handles? Chuck spent an hour or so making new handles using nylon straps with a candle to seal all the cut edges.

Back at the campground, we enjoyed a bonfire.

 

 

Birding is a great hobby for a person with an elderly dog who needs lots of slow walks. It gives me an excuse to move very slowly, while enjoying nature. I really observe a lot more because I am looking for birds – especially birds which are in the trees or bushes or on the ground.

Chuck and I have learned a lot of new bird names, and seen a lot of small colorful birds which we never saw before, even though we have been on our home turf. This is partly due to our increased alertness and partly due to using binoculars.

Both in Toronto and State College, two places where I have spent a lot of time in the woods, I saw warblers and Baltimore orioles, which I had never seen before. As well, cardinals and blue jays, which I thought were rare, turn out to be quite common.

I have been participating in a citizen science project called eBird. The idea is that you keep track of everything you see when birding, and submit the list, location, date, time and “effort”. This is used by the scientific ornithology community to track bird populations. If anyone is manually curating the submissions, they must be getting a laugh at my submissions – the woman who is traveling around the northeast counting robins.

I would say that at least half of the birds I have seen since I started this process (not counting some huge floks of birds at Montezuma) have been robins. This is partly because they are easy to see and identify – big, boldly colored and very noisy. However, it is also because they are very plentiful, even though they do not flock. They love mowed fields (and RV campgounds have lots of these). They also live in the forest. They start calling at down and stop when the stars come up.

Robins also have much more subtle coloring than I realized at first. It took a while for me to recognize them when I could not see the breast. They have dark brown heads, light brown backs, and a strip of white on each side of the tail.

One frustration is the “LBB” or little brown bird, as my friend Rebecca has dubbed them. I can now identify a couple of types of sparrow and other LBBs, but mostly they just look like generic sparrows to me.

A good birder can identify a bird by its call or song. I am not a good birder. Robins seem to have dozens of songs, and usually if I am tracking a bird by its song, it turns out to be a robin. Cardinals, blue jays, crows, mourning doves and Canada geese are the only birds I am willing to say I have “identified” if I have only heard them call.  If we get serious about this, we will have to start listening to the calls of the birds we can identify by sight.

Everything about birding is made easier by the free apps that are available.  We are using Merlin for bird identification.  It is easy to use, and has several pictures and vocalizations for each species.

Barcelona, NY (May 21) We are camped on the south shore of Lake Erie.  This shore is endless vineyards.  I was going to say “wine country” but with the Welch grape juice headquarters just down the road, I will have to say “Concord grape country”.  At this time of year, the vines are very pretty.  Each gust of wind reveals the delicate pink underside of the leaves, so that it looks like the vines are in bloom, although I am sure that the blossom season is still weeks away.

 

This is also great birding country.  The Great Lakes are a huge barrier to migrating birds.  As I learned the year I worked at the Cornell Lab of Ornithology, the migrating birds sit on one side of the lake, bulking up, until they are fat enough and the weather is favorable for a crossing.  Then they fly across, usually at night, land on the other side, famished, and need to rest and eat some more.  As a result, the lake shores attract a lot of birds and birdwatchers.

We are camped at a tiny KOA, just outside of Barcelona, NY and across the road from the small lakeside Ottaway Park which is a birding “hot spot”.  Apparently this area is well used by migrating raptors, but we are about a month too late.  Nevertheless, we see bald eagles and ospreys daily.

The campground itself is overrun (as many of them are) with robins, which provide noisy background music of twittering most of the day.  As well, we have been enthralled by a pair of Baltimore orioles which have been flirting daily and are a very colorful sight in a tree adjacent to our campsite.

Ottaway Park, across the road from us, is on a small cliff overlooking the lake.  One thing I find interesting is that Canadian black squirrels are found in this park, although I have only seen American grey squirrels in the campground.  When I first moved to the US, I was amazed by the huge grey squirrels here.  In Toronto, the squirrels are small and black.  It was only after working at the Lab of Ornithology that I realized that the lakes and the St. Lawrence River provided the geographical isolation that allowed these differences to develop.  However, I imagine there are now occasional squirrel crossings on the bridges or by hitchhiking on vehicles, bringing admixture.  (I have heard that American grey squirrels have made their way to Europe, with bad consequences for European squirrels.  The Great Lakes are formidable barriers, but nothing compared to the north Atlantic.)

Our primary purpose in camping here was to visit our RV dealer in the aptly named town of Northeast (as in NE Pennsylvania).  The propane tank is now repaired.  Needless to say, we will never drive with the propane on!  We still need parts for the bedroom fan, and they are on order.  Because we will be heading north and then coming back to the area, the dealer will order the parts and they will install them at some point in the next few weeks.

We had our first evening fire and invited a couple we met while they were dog-walking.  (Rumple was asleep in the RV or this might not have happened, as he is quite protective of our campsite.)  Linda is a retired school psychologist and Ed was an engineer for GE.  Although they were not in the military, 4 of their 5 children and some of the spouses, are.  They took up RVing so that they could quickly deploy to look after grandchildren if their children are deployed.  They had a daughter in Iraq for two years, with a small child left in the US.  It is hard for me to imagine the stress this family must suffer each time the US gets involved in another war.  Despite all the stresses, their kids apparently love being in the US military.  It was fascinating to hear about their lives. Another unique thing about this couple is that they travel with a small parrot, who accompanies them on dog walks by nestling inside Linda’s jacket.

We also met a woman traveling alone with her dog, who has had more RV problems than we have.  I do not find this reassuring!

Tuesdays are work days.  As a result, we had only a few hours Tuesday afternoon to do any fun activities.  We went to Lake Chautauqua, which is just south of us, to go kayaking. We thoroughly enjoyed the paddle around the town of Mayville and the ice cream we had later.   We also saw a pair of bald eagles and an osprey.  We are giving up on “Rumple the kayak dog” because he was really miserable throughout the trip, even though the water was calm and he was cuddled up with me.   However, he did enjoy his share of the ice cream.  We never kayak for more than a couple of hours, and he will stay in the RV in future.

When we took the kayaks off the car, we noticed that the handles we use to attach the leader ropes are beginning to fray, threatening our car-top carrier system.  It is unlikely that the kayaks will detach from the car as they are each held down by two ropes and two straps.  Instead, the danger (which we learned a couple of years ago when this actually happened) is that when the rope detaches from the kayak, it can wrap itself around the wheel axle.  On the previous  occasion, we were driving the car and the driver side front rope detached, so we stopped almost immediately.  Nonetheless, it was a very difficult task to release the axle (made more difficult by the traffic whizzing by).  Since we are now towing the car behind us,  it is possible that we would not notice the problem for miles, and really damage the axle.  So, the problem needs to be fixed quickly.

Chuck did a great job (in my opinion) of replacing the handles the last time they broke, but as the replacement handles are beginning to fray, he felt that his solution was not sufficient.  So, we are looking for a better solution before we move on.  Fortunately, the towns nearby are well-supplied with hardware stores.

On Wednesday Chuck was feeling a bit under the weather.  He worked a bit on the kayak handle problem, but mostly rested.  I went for an afternoon bicycle ride.  This area has lots of on-road bicycle lanes, which are 5 to 8 feet wide (unlike the more typical lane which sometimes peters out to 5 to 8 inches).  So, it was quite pleasant to ride around the towns of Westfield and Barcelona.

Highway 5 is the old lakeshore drive and runs between the campsite and the lake.  There is not much traffic, because I90 runs parallel to it about a half mile further inland.  Just inland from I90 is the rail line, which has heavy freight traffic.  We hear trains about every 30 minutes, and I have been stuck at the crossing waiting for a train to pass every time I have needed to cross the line.  These are long trains, often piled with double high container freight.  Today’s train was loaded with the container part of UPS trucks, ready to hook up to truck cabs when they are off-loaded.

Westfield is a lovely little town with some very nice stately homes.  I have no idea what industries might have made this economically feasible – perhaps the Welch factory or the rail line.  The town seems to be thriving and is probably pretty busy once the tourist season is in full swing.

It also has a charming little park with this statue of Lincoln with a young girl of the town who advised Lincoln to grow a beard.  When he learned that the presidential train was to pass through the town, he asked to stop and have her assess the results.

 

Barcelona is right on the lake and has a scenic lighthouse, as well as a large pier and yacht harbor.  The pier is full of gulls, geese and ducks, as well as the occasional eagle.  The town itself seems to be tiny, but it has quite a few restaurants.

The weather has swung from cold to hot to muggy with rain.  The last 20 minutes or so of my bike ride were in the rain – even though it had not been terribly hot, it was a relief to have the rain clear the humidity.

Our final day in the area was very rainy, so we decided to go to the Lucille Ball and Dezi Arnaz Museum in Jamestown, at the south end of Chautauqua Lake.  (Lucille Ball (real name) grew up in Jamestown.)  The museum was fun, although not profound.

The real fun began when we went to the Harvest Cafe for a late lunch.  This place was extremely friendly.  From the owner and cook, Daisy, we learned all about her move from NYC to small town upstate NY three years ago, and her attempts to invigorate the downtown by encouraging the town council to have more festivals, etc.   Along with a bunch of her friends/customers, we also tried out the chair challenge (is it true that women, but not men, can lift a chair in certain positions?).  And we joined in the general chatter and gossip.  For a while we really felt like we were part of the life in this small town.

I just read Michener’s “Caribbean”.  Like many of Michener’s historical novels, this is both heavy-going and fascinating.  I finally finished it, and am going to switch to some light reading (or maybe even do some statistics).

Tomorrow we drop the RV at our dealership for the fan repair, and head for Toronto.

Toronto (Hove St) – May 26

Leaving our RV with the dealer for repairs and the kayaks at the campground to avoid the drag while driving, we headed up to Toronto. We have done this trip dozens of times and it was uneventful.

Staying at my mother’s house on Hove Street is increasingly depressing. Her presence is fading, as we move things out. It is also increasingly difficult to live there – the internet has been discontinued, the dryer does not work, etc.

Saturday was clearout day. My brother Donald and sister-in-law Judy came to collect the last items they wanted from the house.  I also collected a few items.  We went out for dinner at one of our favorite north Toronto restaurants, Santos.

One thing that will be left behind is my chestnut tree.  When we moved from our previous house on Whitburn to this house on Hove, my mother transplanted 2 trees.  One was a striped maple which originally came from a campground in northern Ontario.  My mother had always wanted this type of tree, which grows naturally only far north of Toronto, but as a conservationist, she would not disturb even the smallest seedling on a camping trip.  However, at a site where new campsites were being put in, she was able to rescue a sapling, which grew to a fairly large tree once transplanted to Hove.

The other tree was a horse chestnut which was planted due to a misunderstanding.  As a young child, I had been told that the chestnut trees were all dying due to chestnut blight.  I did not understand that this was the American chestnut, not horse chestnut, and so I collected some of the plentiful horse chestnuts that can be picked up in the fall from the trees in downtown Toronto.  Several sprouted but only one lived long enough to be put in the garden.  It was perhaps 10 feet tall when we moved to Hove – it now towers over the house and my mother complained for years about the plentiful chestnuts it produces, and how the local squirrels dig up her garden to bury them.   The gardener trimmed it back severely, which proved lucky a few years ago when a huge ice storm closed Toronto for several days and brought down many trees.  But it lost a large limb last winter, and I will not be surprised if the new owners bring it down.  (I am pleased to say that a project at Penn State, as well as other US universities, has successfully produced blight resistant American chestnut trees, which will soon be re-introduced to their original habitat.)

On Sunday we went to the McMichael Art Gallery in Kleinburg. When I was in high school and college I considered this a biking adventure from my parents house – about 10 miles on country roads through the farms. Although I think it is still possible to get there by side roads and bike paths, it is now part of the greater Toronto metropolitan area. The town itself has become very touristy.

The gallery features the works of a group of famous Canadian painters – Tom Thompson and the Group of Seven. These artists mostly started as Canadian landscape painters, but then brought impressionism to the work. Growing up, I was most interested in Tom Thompson, who painted the northern forests where I spent my summers. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tom_Thomson) I found it an almost painful evocation of my childhood to see some of these works, especially Thompson (who is not featured highly in the gallery but whose studio has been moved to the site and is in the photo) and, Lawren Harris,  for whom they were having a special exhibit on contemporary artists. (http://www.ago.net/the-idea-of-north-the-paintings-of-lawren-harris)

In the evening we went out for dinner with my younger brother Louis, who Down Syndrome. At birth his life expectancy was about 20. However, due to advances in medical care, he is now in a cohort of Down’s patients who are in their 60s. He enjoys a chicken dinner at the Swiss Chalet, and we always take him out when we are in town. This time, however, something went wrong. He did not want to go home.  After a second cup of coffee, we were able to coax him into the car, but it was a bit harrowing.

On Monday we met with the estate sale agent, who immediately set to work on finding everything in the house. She has been working at it with her team ever since. We have only 3 weeks until the closing on the house, so fitting in the sale will be tight.

The way it works is that the agent goes through everything in the house, determining what can be sold and what is just rubbish. She might call in dealers for items such as artwork or specialty furniture. Besides the specialty items, everything else gets priced and then there is an estate sale, open to the public. After the sale, she brings in a dealer who buys bulk items. Anything left over at that point is either donated or trashed.

Closing out a house this way is probably the most demoralizing thing most of us will want our kids to do for us. We will want them to do it for two reasons: 1) most of us will prefer to stay in our homes until we die and 2) we hope they will outlive us. In any case, my mother’s house was very full. Firstly, she loved beautiful things and collected them on trips, from catalogues, antiquing with her friends, etc. Secondly, she and my father inherited things, especially china, from their families. (Since most of the family kept kosher, they had meat and milk dishes, cutlery and pots for both ordinary and Passover – 4 sets each.) And finally, while my mother was always happy to give thing away to friends and family,  she hated to trash them or give them to garage sales. So unpacking the house is like an archeological dig – dishes I remember from my early childhood, my grandmother’s roasting pan. a photo of my great-great grandfather dressed as a Russian officer (although we are sure that Jews inducted into the csar’s army were the lowest of the low and never officers) as well as cake-plates and serving pieces that she collected. Every one of these reminds me of my mother in some way. But there is only so much room in the house, and my kids, came too late in life to see my mother use most of these items for entertaining,   So, it all has to go.   These were my mother’s memories, and to some extent my father’s, but they were also mine and it is hard to let them go.

The agent made it quite clear that her preference is to have no-one living in the house while she is working. We can already see the awkwardness, since she will be selling the pots we are cooking with, the furniture we are sleeping on, the dishes we are eating on, etc. So we checked out the nearest RV parks and found that there is one right on the highway near Toronto airport, which is only a few minutes drive from my mother’s house. We decided to move there as soon as the RV has been repaired.

When I was growing up my parents tried to get out to a park each weekend, especially in the summer, but also for walks in the snow or toboganning. This was not as straight forward as it sounds, because my father often had to work during the weekend, he sometimes went to religious services on Saturday andd uring the school year my brother and I had Sunday school from 9 -12 on Sunday mornings. However, the Toronto Regional Conservation Authority maintained a number of small conservation areas which were all about 10 miles from the city boundary. We were heavy users of these areas with our friends, the Billers, and sometimes another set of friends, the Teitels (sometimes known as TAB). The routine was always the same – my mother made up tuna, salmon and egg spreads, which my brother and I would made into sandwiches, neatly cut and wrapped in wax paper. A cooler would be filled with sandwiches, hotdogs, cole slaw and potato salad and one car would be filled with 4 adults, 2 dogs, 4 kids, coolers, and folding lounge chairs.

Once there, we would have lunch and then the dads would sit in the car and listen to sports on the radio, while my mother would take us on one of the educational nature trails. Since we visited these parks frequently and my mother never failed at this, we kids knew all of the interpretive signs by heart. But my mother always acted as if the information was fresh and fascinating. Sports and hikes finished, all of us would go for a long walk with the dogs. And then the men would fire up the barbecue  and we would roast our hotdogs and marshmallows. (We had never heard of s’mores.)

Nowadays, several of these conservation areas have added RV campsites and the city has grown outwards, so they are in the greater metropolitan area. This makes them very convenient – especially for people like us who are visiting the northern suburbs, rather than the downtown. On the other hand, the campsites do not have sewers, so we will have to be careful about water use.

Toronto’s landscape was built by the glaciers of the last ice age. It is built on glacial morraines and cut by deep ravines, with 2 major river systems, the Humber and the Don. Tuesday morning Chuck worked and Tuesday evening I did, but Tuesday afternoon we took a long hike through a park that meanders through the West Don Valley. The park starts about half a kilometer  from my mother’s house, so we walked to the park and then took the main trail. It seems that most Torontonians are scofflaws when it comes to leash laws, and Rumple was very happy to join the other hiking dogs off-leash.

Wednesday I visited my friend Therese for much of the afternoon. We both managed to get parking tickets (along with a dozen other cars) for parking on the wrong side of the street. (If there had not been so many cars already parked, I would have read the parking signs more carefully.)   It just goes to show that Torontonians sometimes do pay for being scofflaws.

In the evening, we visited our friends Kathy and Salomon, who are recently retired and enjoying lots of travel and cooking. We had the benefit of Salo’s wonderful cooking skills, as well as a long evening walk with their dog and ours.

Salo recommended Glen Rouge conservation area as a place to walk the dog, so on Thursday we headed out there for another hike. It has very nice trails and we enjoyed the walk. It also has a very nice campground. However, unless we take the 401 with the RV, it is almost an extra hour of driving compared to the campground we selected, so we decided to stick to the less attractive but more convenient spot.

The transCanada highway, is highway 1. It goes coast to coast including a jog to become Toronto’s main street – Yonge Street. As traffic became worse, Canada built superhighways to supplement its main roads, adding “4” to the highway number. So, the 401 is the Toronto bypass for highway 1. However, Toronto has spread out to become a conurbation of multiple cities, each fairly large already. The 401 is now very congested, and the part that goes through greater Toronto is 8 lanes in each directions – 4 express and 4 “local”. Torontonians drive like New Yorkers, weaving among the lanes at high speeds. Perhaps some day we will be willing to do this in the RV. Mostly we avoid the 401 even when driving the car. Instead, we take the 407 which follows highway 7 north of the city and which is very convenient to my mother’s house. The campground we will stay at is at the intersection of 407 and 427 (near highway 27, of course).

Near my mother’s house is a cute-looking French restaurant. By the time we became aware of it, my mother had severe arthritis and was unable to negotiate the steps. (In fact, easy access is one of the reasons that Santos became a favorite.) We decided to give it a try, and were glad we did. Besides the fact that the charming staff all had charming French accents, the food was very good.

Friday morning both the estate sale agent and the real estate agent showed up. However, we needed to get to our RV dealer before the service department closed, so we had only brief discussions before taking off for Erie, PA.

Waterloo NY (May 19): We decided our best travel plan was to stay on I 90 across the top of NY state. This takes us right past the Montezuma National Wildlife Refuge, a renowned birding hotspot at the top of Cayuga Lake. We lived in Ithaca, NY, at the bottom of Cayuga Lake for 15 years, and passed by the Refuge every time we travelled to Canada. But we never stopped there. In fact, the irony is that Ann, the friend who got us started in our birding hobby, was among closest friends there, but we never went birding with her.  So we decided that on this trip we would make up for some of our missed birding opportunities.

We stayed at the Junius Ponds RV Resort, which is close to Waterloo, NY. It is a bit different from other RV parks we have stayed at. On one hand, since they are only open 6 months of the year, they do not have “permanent” residents. On the other hand, most of the sites are taken up by seasonal campers, many of whom have been on the site for years, storing their campers on site during the winter.  Apparently there is a long waiting list, and people who sell their campers often sell the right to the site with it.  In any case, it is more like a cottage colony than an RV park.   People seem to know their neighbors, and there are multiple activities as well as sports facilities. Many of the RVs have built on porches, fenced gardens, etc and appear to be cottages at first glance. This actually makes good sense as an alternative to a vacation cottage. The cost of a site is about $1200 for the season which is probably not that much higher than typical taxes, water and sewer charges for a cottage. And if annoying neighbors move in – you can pick up your RV and move or sell it with your rights to the site.

May 20th is Chuck’s birthday. Although we had planned to go to Montezuma early to do some birdwathcing, he was very tired from the long drive the day before, and I was not up to waking him up early on his birthday. In the end, we spreak our birdwatching over 2 days, with a walk from the visitor center in the late morning of the birthday and a drive along the birding trail earlier the following morning.

When it gets hot, it is hard to see the birds. I have no idea where they hide, but the best birding is on cool sunny mornings. Fortunately, the day morning was both clear and cool, so despite our late start we saw lots of birds. The hike takes you through the woods and along the shore of a marsh and the Seneca River, and with both habitats available, there is a vast variety of bird life. Now that I am recording my observations for the eBird citizen science project, I can tell you that were identified 25 species during our 2 hour walk. This was abetted by the fact that we met many birders familiar with the local birds and the ranger in the visitor center was also helpful.  Nothing very scenic that can be captured with a phone camera, I’m sorry to say.

On the way into the Refuge, you pass a line of utility poles with their bases in the marsh. Atop each of these poles is a huge nest made of big sticks. I thought these were bald eagle nests (and we did see one of the 60 pairs that nest in the Refuge) but apparently they are osprey nests. Ospreys, which are a type of eagle, have made a remarkable recovery since the days of “Silent Spring” and are now common throughout the east coast. We saw several at the Refuge, but we have seen them at almost every stop east of the Appalachians, as they will fish in both fresh and salt water.

Unlike other wildlife reserves we have visited, dogs are allowed on the trail at Montezuma. However, we did not know this and left Rumple in the RV. By 2:00 it was getting quite warm, and although we left the air-conditioning on, we were worried that it might not work and that Rumple would overheat. So we returned to the RV. Actually, we need not have worried – it was much cooler at the campsite and the air-conditioning did turn on. Of course, Rumple was happy to sit outside with us, instead of being stuck on his own at home.

 

For Chuck’s birthday dinner we went into Geneva, NY to the “Beef and Brew”. Part of the Cornell School of Agriculture where I used to work is located in Geneva, and I also did a project with the Geneva folks while at Penn State, but we have never been there.It is a very cute little town. More importantly for our purposes, the Beef and Brew turned out to be a very cute little restaurant with good food. However, since Chuck does not drink beer at all, and I am only a very occasional imbiber, we were not able to fully appreciate the offerings of the brewery. On the other hand, we did appreciate the attitude of the wait staff, who each exhorted us to “enjoy each others’ company” (and we enjoyed the food too).

The main wildlife attraction at Montezuma is not the hiking trail, but rather a drive between the Seneca River and the marshes. Since the campground has a late checkout time, we decided we could take a morning drive to see more wildlife. The Refuge has an amazing array of birds. We could easily have spent more time.

The area has two other important attractions, the Harriet Tubman House and the home of Susan B. Anthony which are on our list to do if we come back this way.