travel – A Play on Words

Road Trip – Dickens Across America Wrapped Up

Posted on June 26, 2013 by dlmarriott

We are safely back in Wisconsin and, as enjoyable as the trip was for everyone, we are all happy to be out of a car and back in the comfort of our own homes.

I had great fun taking Mr. Dickens along on our journey. He gave me the chance to meet people along the way who were curious about the picture I was carrying around. I was also able to connect with people on the internet who share my enthusiasm for Charles Dickens and his works.

A special thank you to the Charles Dickens Museum in London for sharing our journey with their fans. If I ever achieve the dream of taking a trip across the pond, the museum is on my “must see” list. It was the museum that launched Dickens On Tour, which just happened to coincide with our road trip, and provided me with this fantastic opportunity. I even learned more about Charles Dickens as I looked for links between the places and sites we were seeing and the two trips Mr. Dickens had made to America.

So to wrap it all up. we took Mr. Dickens to many places far and wide. We went through small towns and big cities. We visited every environment possible. We saw the ocean, rivers, lakes, mountains, canyons, hills, valleys, plains, desert, even a salt lake and salt desert.

We experienced temperatures from the 40’s all the way up to 104 degrees Fahrenheit.

We traveled through 16 states: Wisconsin, Illinois, Iowa, Nebraska, Wyoming, Utah, Nevada, California, Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, Oklahoma, Arkansas, Missouri, Tennessee, and Mississippi. That is one third of all the continental U.S. states! Some states we went through more than once.

Along the way we saw some wildlife…

…and some not so “wild” life.

We saw architectural marvels, some modern, some old, and some ancient. Some were visitor sites, some were just huddled by the side of the road like these adobe ruins, almost invisible, camouflaged against the side of the rocky hills above.

We visited 24 tourist sites. We saw memorials to the celebration of life, and death. The Gateway Arch in St. Louis celebrates the bravery of the men who explored the west, the Donner Memorial is dedicated to the people who lost their lives on their westward journey. We saw where history was made, and where guitars were made. We were spectators at a funeral on Beale Street, and saw the final resting place of the King.

We visited natural wonders like the Grand Canyon, and man-made wonders like Alcatraz. We even got a feel for another country when we visited the London Bridge.

We followed or crossed the paths of the Continental Divide, the Mormon Trail, the California Trail, the Oregon Trail, the Blue Star Memorial Highway, the Lincoln Highway, Donner Pass, and Historic Route 66.

We saw the settings and inspiration for quite a few movies, books and songs – many of which brought forth memorable quotes or poorly sung lyrics (good thing the video camera didn’t come out).

We ate steaks in Nebraska and Texas, seafood and sourdough in San Francisco, and BBQ in Memphis. We ate some delicious spicy food in Albuquerque, but don’t call it Tex Mex – locals will take offence. It’s their own Albuquerque cuisine. Whatever it’s called, it was fantastic, even if we were still feeling it’s effects 48 hours later.

I even learned how to spell Albuquerque!

We stayed overnight in 9 cities: Cheyenne (Wyoming), Reno (Nevada), San Francisco (California), Barstow (California), Laughlin (Nevada), Albuquerque (New Mexico), Amarillo (Texas), Tunica (Missouri), and Collins (Illinois).

I personally took 537 pictures. I’m not sure how many our friends took. There were times when I refrained with the knowledge that they were getting the perfect shot and would share with me. We have yet to get together for our post-trip debriefing. Some pictures turned out spectacular, almost artistic, like the sunset over the Grand Canyon (see Road Trip Day 7) or this shot of the Bay Bridge with a sailboat seen through ruins of the warden’s house on Alcatraz.

And now for the biggest total of all! Yes we did 16 states in 14 days – but how far is that? The picture tells all – 5,555 miles! I do believe that is only slightly shorter than Mr. Dickens traveled by ship – round trip – to America, and that’s saying something!

I hope you (and Mr. Dickens) enjoyed going along on the trip with us!

Road Trip Day 10 and 11

Posted on June 9, 2013 by dlmarriott

Day 10 was a all day driving day. From Albuquerque we had driven to Amarillo, Texas for the night. From there we drove through the rest of Texas, Oklahoma, and Arkansas, finally spending the night in Tunica, Mississippi. Although we thought that this long leg across the panhandle of Texas and Oklahoma were going to be flat and boring, it turned out it was hilly and tree-lined. We could have been convinced we were back in Wisconsin.

Our only order of business once we arrived was to eat, maybe do a little gambling, and get some sleep. We ate at Paula Deen’s Buffet at Harrah’s Casino. We all agree it had to be the best buffet any of us have ever eaten at. But after eating grilled oysters, fried chicken, fried catfish, fried green tomatoes, cheesy grits, cheesy biscuits, and hoe cakes (just to name a few of the selections) I had worse indigestion than when I ate the spicy food in Albuquerque! It was worth it though.

We gambled a little (and actually won a little) then crashed for the night.

Day 11 started with breakfast and a drive across the river into Memphis, Tennessee. Our first stop – Graceland.

It’s funny how one can have false perceptions of the places they have never been. First, Graceland is tucked tightly into a pretty depressed neighborhood. In fact, if it weren’t for the iconic gates, and 101 large signs, you could drive right past it. It does have over 13 acres, but from the front entrance, that’s not obvious.

The Graceland Mansion, is certainly large, but by today’s standards, the rooms are small. One must also remember that Elvis lived in this home from 1957 until 1977, which leaves the decorating … let’s just say, if it wasn’t the home of the King, and it was just a house, almost any new owner would start gutting and updating the interior. But it IS the home of Elvis, so it’s unusual, outdated decor takes on a whole new meaning, and we couldn’t help but wander through it with a sense of awe.

I think Charles Dickens would have liked Elvis. In a way they had quite a few similarities.

Elvis, like Charles, came from poor beginnings. Vernon Presley, like John Dickens, wandered from job to job, without ambition. Both fathers spent time in jail.

This affected both Elvis and Charles Dickens, compelling them to do better. Both men were quirky and enjoyed music and entertaining. Both were driven in their careers. Mr. Dickens and Elvis were both a bit obsessive compulsive, and both would rearrange hotel rooms to suit their obsessive needs.

Both worried about the success of their careers, pushing themselves to the point of poor health.

Although cast in singing roles in movies, Elvis, like Charles Dickens wanted to be taken seriously as an actor.

Just like Mr. Dickens, when sales started to fall, Elvis decided to do something to boost his career. In Dickens case it was a Christmas book, for Elvis it was a Christmas television special.

Finally, despite failing health, and those around them imploring that they take a break, both men insisted on pushing themselves to embark on a tour of live performances, which inevitably added to the stresses that eventually ended their lives.

So, although time and culture made them very different people (I can’t imagine how Elvis’ gyrating hips would have caused an uproar in Victorian England) in essence they were in many ways the same.

Back to Graceland. Here are a few pictures from inside the mansion.

This first picture is the living room.

This is the kitchen, as I mentioned, not overly large by today’s standards of enormous granite-covered islands and restaurant sized stoves.

The ever famous “Jungle Room.”

This is the last piano that Elvis ever played. He performed “Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain” for his cousin, Billy Smith and Billy’s wife, Jo just hours before his death.

The resting place of “The King” is in his meditation garden, alongside his mother, father, and grandmother. There is also a memorial plaque for his twin brother, Jesse, who was stillborn. I’ve since found out that just one week before our visit, Sir Paul McCartney was here and left a guitar pick on Elvis’ grave.

After departing Graceland, we made another pilgrimage of sorts. We live in the Waukesha, Wisconsin area and are very proud to be the home of Les Paul, as well as the site of Gibson Guitar Town for the second year running (only Waukesha and Los Angeles have ever had that privilege). So we couldn’t go to Memphis and not stop in at the Gibson factory.

Although this plant is not the one that produces the Les Paul guitar, it was fascinating to see how each guitar is made individually, by hand. There are no stencils used – all paint jobs are done free hand which means there are no two alike.

Also, they do not mass produce any guitars. They don’t start building a guitar until there is an order placed. Each guitar is meticulously inspected. If there is any flaw, even if it’s undetectable to the average person, the flaw is either repaired, or the guitar (even if it’s complete) is cut up on the band saw. There are no seconds.

Our last stop of the day was Beale Street. On the way, we drove past the famous Sun Records, where Elvis got his start.

Beale Street, for those who don’t know, is a street that is known as the home of the Memphis Blues. It has been frequented by blues legends such as Louis Armstrong, Muddy Waters, Albert King, Memphis Minnie, B.B. King, Rufus Thomas, and Roscoe Gordon, to name a few.

It now has the distinction of having another famous visitor! I have to believe that Mr. Dickens would have enjoyed the intensity of the place and the liveliness of the people here.

We arrived just as a parade, or so we thought, was making it’s way down the street. A gentleman, overhearing us wonder out loud as to what the occasion was, told us it was the funeral procession for Silky O’Sullivan, a well loved and respected club owner. We just happened to be standing next to his club.

When Beale Street says farewell to one of it’s own, it’s anything but a somber affair. What we were lucky enough to stumble upon was a celebration of life – Mardi Gras style!

Beale Street is filled with music, food, and an energy that is tangible.

The smell of BBQ is enough to make your nose twitch and your mouth water. The soul-filled riffs of street musicians fill your ears. The spirit and vitality of the people and the place fill your soul. Beale Street was not created by someone to be a tourist attraction. As my husband said – what’s so great, and feels so special about Beale Street is that this place is real.

Of course we had to sample the flavors of Beale Street and sat down to eat a platter filled with barbecue ribs, smoked chicken, pulled pork, beans, coleslaw and onion rings at “The Pig”. It was a beautiful sunny day, so we sat outside where we could hear live blues being played right across the street.

After stuffing ourselves, we wandered up and down the street, browsing the shops. Of course we had to stop in at Schwab’s which is a Beale Street mainstay. The general store is the only remaining original business on Beale Street.

Established in 1876, the store has never lost it’s charm. We strolled the creaky wood floors and stairs to check out all of it’s quirky merchandise. I purchased two small charm bags, one for creativity, and one for success, from the Hoodoo section of the store. When on Beale Street, it can’t be wrong to buy myself some good juju!

Our last stop, was to get some fresh beignets . When I say fresh, I mean fresh! We watched as just enough dough for our order was made from scratch. Skilled fingers mixed, then kneaded the dough. Hot from the fryer and dusted in powdered sugar, they were the perfect finish to our visit to Beale Street!

Road Trip Day 9

Posted on June 4, 2013 by dlmarriott

On to Albuquerque. I must confess, this trip has been immensely educational. Not only am I learning about the history and stories of the places we visit, but I now can spell Albuquerque!

We arrived in Albuquerque late in the day, tired and hungry. Of many of the places we’d planned to stop along the way, we hadn’t done much research on what there was to see, and really only thought of it as a stopping point to spend the night. Sometimes it’s nothing more than how tired we are and how many miles before the next hotel – and in the western plains, it can be MANY miles before the next town, much less one that has a hotel.

We’d found a hotel on the iPad while in the car, and called to book a couple of rooms. We asked the person on the phone for a good place to eat. We always ask for a restaurant that will provide an authentic taste of the region. We were given three recommendations, and decided to stop at Church Street Cafe. We were so happy we went there. The atmosphere was fantastic. as was the food.

The restaurant is in Casa de Ruiz. The house was built during the founding of Albuquerque in the early 1700’s, which makes Casa de Ruiz the oldest residence in Albuquerque and one of the oldest structures in the state of New Mexico.

Unfortunately, I took some pictures of the courtyard we dined in, but I used my phone and had obviously (by the resulting blurry pictures) touched the lens with my enchilada covered fingers. Here is a link to their website: Church Street Cafe.

This is a picture which I found online. I’d give credit to the photographer, but it only came up as “unknown Google User.” This picture looks like it was taken from the table in which we were seated.

We arrived just as the sun was setting, and day was giving way to night. The courtyard was just the right size to feel cozy, and there was a comfortable breeze. The building and courtyard had adobe walls, with a rustic timber pergola over a portion. Plants and southwest antiques were perched here and there. As the daylight dimmed, strings of lights overhead gave just the right glow. The sound of water tumbling gently over a stone waterfall eased our road-weary minds. A mariachi band strolled between the tables.

The food was spicy, and the cause for many a pit stop for the next few days on our road trip, but it was delicious! I had a combination platter which had a chicken enchilada, a tamale, and a chili releno. I chose the squash (sauteed zucchini and corn) to accompany it. The meal was finished off with warm sopaipillas with honey. Although the food sounds like any Mexican fare, the dishes of New Mexico have a slightly different flavor, and a different type of spiciness to it.

After spending that little time in Old Town. We decided to shift our plans a bit. Instead of leaving first thing in the morning. We decided to hang around a bit and check out the many shops.

Old Town, is exactly what it says. It is the old town of what now is Albuquerque. It is comprised of historic adobe buildings that were built when Albuquerque was founded in the early 1700s. The buildings have been converted to restaurants and shops and surround a main central plaza. The oldest building is San Felipe de Neri Church. We spent half a day wandering through the shops before it was time to get back on the road.

On the way out of town we found a great roadside store. My husband and I had been looking for the perfect chiminea for our patio. We found a New Mexico version of Pots ‘R Us. Not only did we find the perfect chiminea, but we also picked up some beautiful Talavera pots.

We were all pleasantly surprised with Albuquerque, and glad we stayed, even if it was only for a little while.

Road Trip Day 8

Posted on June 3, 2013 by dlmarriott

Today we left Flagstaff Arizona, and went retro. Back on Historic Route 66, we saw all the kitschy fun sites. Our first stop was Meteor Crater which is in the middle of nowhere, Arizona. That would be about 35 miles west of Flagstaff. About 50,000 years ago, a piece of an asteroid, traveling at about 26,000 miles per hour, struck the desert floor. The result is a crater 2.4 miles in diameter, a mile across, and 550 feet deep.

Although it’s not quite as big as the “hole in the ground” we saw yesterday, this “hole in the ground” was impressive in it’s own right. There are guided tours, and a museum. It does have that kitsch factor, from the alien footprints painted on the ground to lead you from the parking lot to the crater, to the signs along the way and a radio broadcast as you drive up the road telling you to EXPERIENCE THE IMPACT!

We were actually glad we were listening to the radio broadcast, because they told us to stop in Winslow, Arizona, where we can stand on the corner next to a flat bed Ford. There was no question we had to take advantage of that photo op! If you don’t know the reference – it’s the Eagles’ “Take It Easy.” The lyric goes like this … “I’m standing on the corner, in Winslow, Arizona, she’s such a fine sight to see. It’s a girl, My Lord, in a flat bed Ford, slowing down to look at me. Click here for a video of the Eagles.

It was pure Route 66 kitsch!

From Winslow, we came to another Route 66 staple -the Wigwam Motel. We had hoped to stay there, however our timing didn’t work out. We couldn’t resist stopping to check it out though!

Next, we made our way to the Petrified Forest.

You may hear the word forest and think trees, but what you really see , are what look like logs made of stone scattered all around the desert floor. The logs are from trees that were knocked down by a volcanic eruption. The trees were buried by mud and ash, sealing them off from oxygen, thereby preventing them from decaying. Minerals from the soil replaced the cells of the tree, turning them to stone. The different minerals create different colors. Quartz is the most common.

The next thing we saw was the painted desert. The layers of sedimentary rock showcase many different colors, making it look like someone spray painted the buttes.

I’m sure this Raven, who certainly didn’t seem fearful of us, reminded Mr. Dickens of his beloved pet, Grip.

From there we visited Puerco Pueblo. A site of ruins from farming homesteaders. The pueblo was inhabited between 1250 AD to the late 1300’s. The above picture is of the Keva. This served several purposes. One was as a general meeting place. Another function the structure had was as a way to settle disagreements. If two tribe members had a disagreement, a relative of each would go into the Kiva together, and couldn’t come out until they reached a settlement. It was like a time-out by proxy!

The main structure had many small rooms. Twenty people stayed in each room. I have to believe these people were tiny in stature.

There are also quite a few petroglyphs still clearly seen on the rocks. There is one rock face that was used as a calendar. The sun creates a line when it shines between two other rocks. When the line of light reaches a symbol they carved in the rock face, it was time to plant.

From here we will make our way to Albuquerque, New Mexico!

A special congratulations to Julie Westphal. She will be receiving an autographed copy of “Christmas Carole” for giving the correct answer to the trivia question in my last post!

Road Trip Day 7

Posted on June 1, 2013 by dlmarriott

Day 7 entails only one stop, but it was a biggie. We left early from Laughlin, Nevada and drove straight to the Grand Canyon. We spent all day there, because … well … it really is … grand. This post will have less talk and more pictures.

Scale is a difficult thing in pictures, but to help you with the one below – there are people standing on the outcropping. See those tiny little people? Now you may get a better sense of just how big this “hole in the ground” is.

They’re there, just left of center. On top of that flat rock. Do you see them? If you click on the pictures, you can make them bigger. Try that, then maybe you’ll see them!

Mr. Dickens was duly impressed!

Above is a picture of the fireplace in the cabin at Hermit’s Rest at the far west end of the south rim.

Above: Pretty picture!

Above: Another pretty picture!

We had some wildlife sightings including this elk.

The Desert View Watchtower is another structure in the park, both it. and Hermit’s Rest, as well as many other structures. were all designed by the same Architect. Mary Jane Coulter was one of a few female architects of her time. In the early 1900’s she came to the area and worked for Fred Harvey. For more information on Mary Jane Coulter: click here.

Fred Harvey was an entrepreneur who started out working for the railroad. With westward expansion, he saw a need for quality lodging and restaurants near the rail lines in the west. After being turned down by his own employer, he convinced another railroad of the potential of having clean accommodations for their passengers. Harvey House was born, and is considered to be the first chain restaurant in the country. Mr. Harvey soon found that the men he hired were not keeping his establishments up to the standard he desired, so he decided to hire women instead, which was quite controversial for the times. These women were called the Harvey Girls.

For more information on Fred Harvey: click here.

For more information on the Harvey Girls : click here.

OK, so I lied a little. I’m a writer and lover of history, I couldn’t really just post pictures without a little back story. Now back to the pretty pictures!

We stayed for a spectacular sunset over the canyon. It doesn’t get better than this!

Since I’m behind a day in posts, I can tell you what’s coming up next. Mr. Dickens gets to visit Meteor Crater, the Petrified Forest, and the Painted Desert! And we get to stand on a corner, in Winslow, Arizona next to a flat bed Ford. If anyone can tell me what that means, you get a free copy of Christmas Carole, starring Mr. Dickens, himself. So stay tuned!

Road Trip Day 4 and 5

Posted on May 28, 2013 by dlmarriott

These two days are the days we spent in the San Francisco area. On Sunday morning we got up early, picked up our daughter Emily, and took off for downtown San Francisco. After some confusion, (if you take the bus sightseeing tour – the bus stops are NOT clearly marked) we got onto a double-decker tour bus. The bus took us around a loop that included Fisherman’s Wharf, China town, Little Italy, The Ferry Building, etc. Leo, our tour guide was great fun. Mr. Dickens seemed most impressed.

After getting an overview of the city, we got off and walked down Fisherman’s Wharf. Our first order of business was lunch. We stopped at Lou’s Cafe and sat street-side. The fare for the day was crab bisque and clam chowder in a San Francisco sourdough bowl. YUM! We found out that even if you take sourdough starter home from here, the yeast that gives it that distinctive flavor, will not survive. It can only live in San Francisco.

After our lunch, we wandered amongst a plethora of shops, artisans, and street performers. Not to mention a pier full of sea lions!

The day was ended with a pizza dinner with Emily and her friends.

The next morning we got up bright and early to catch a boat out to Alcatraz. It was a windy crossing. Luckily Mr. Dickens is not prone to seasickness.

The buildings, stories, and history are amazing. Some of the buildings are mere ruins, but the prison cell block stands as strong as ever. A guide was kind enough to close us into a solitary cell, which was effectively creepy. We were able to see the cells where prisoners had carved away at an air vent with spoons to escape. We also saw bullet holes and grenade damage from where other prisoners attempted escape, but were caught. In the history of Alcatraz only three prisoners were unaccounted for, but it is assumed that they drowned in the rough, icy waters of San Francisco Bay.

The other fascinating story behind Alcatraz is of the 70 workers and their families that lived on the small island. Besides the warden’s house, there were apartments where the families raised their children. The children played in the shadow of the imposing high security prison. There were even extensive gardens planted there. Alcatraz means “Pelican” and it was named that because of the vast amounts of birds on the island when it was first discovered. Today Alcatraz has again become a sanctuary for birds. It was good that we took Mr. Dickens along as he has always had a fascination with visiting prisons as well as wildlife. We even met some fellow Dickens fans along the way. Charles didn’t even mind being locked in a cell for a short time.

After returning on the ferry, we had lunch in one of the many restaurants along Fisherman’s Wharf. Did you know that there are so many restaurants in San Francisco that you can eat breakfast, lunch. and dinner at a different restaurant for three years, and never have to eat at the same place twice?

Our next stop was the Maritime Museum where we learned that during the Gold Rush, over 700 sailing vessels came into the harbor. The crews abandoned the ships to find gold. Now those hundreds of ships and their cargo, are the fill under the financial district. Where else could you dig a hole, and almost certainly find buried treasure?

From there we went to Ghiradelli Square, where of course we had to buy chocolate and eat chocolate sundaes. DOUBLE YUM!

From downtown San Francisco we drove down scenic Route 1. The cliffs, the trees, and the beaches, were beautiful. We stopped a few times to get out and walk a bit. Our final destination was Moss Beach, which was lovely. The area is dotted with cottages. There are tons of imposing cypress trees, draped in bright green moss. Rocky cliffs lead down to the beach.

We ate at the Moss Beach Distillery which was the best dining experience so far. The Moss Beach Distillery gets it’s name from the days in which it was a speakeasy during Prohibition. It is also, reportedly haunted by the Blue Lady. There is a patio that overlooks the ocean where many come to view the sunset. The restaurant provides blankets and chairs huddled around large fire pits, where you can take food or a hot chocolate on cool nights. Unfortunately it was raining, and the fog obscured any chance of seeing the sunset, but it gives us something to look forward to the next time we visit.

After a tear filled good-bye it was time to call it a day, and the end of our time in San Francisco.

Road Trip Day 3

Posted on May 26, 2013 by dlmarriott

Today was certainly the best day so far. First of all, this leg didn’t need to be one of those 10 – 12 hour days on the road. We did start off with a little hitch – a flat tire.

Luckily there was a Tires Plus right down the road from our hotel in Reno, but it did cost us some time.

We left Nevada, and entered California. The landscape improved drastically, and although the mountain driving is a bit rougher for the driver (a big thank-you to John), the beauty makes the long hours stuffed in a car a million times more pleasurable.

We only had one stopped planned, and that was to the Donner Memorial. I would think most people have heard of the Donner party which was a group of families who left from Springfield, Illinois and crossed the country, making their way to California. The name comes from George Donner, who eventually led the group. Most people will only remember one thing – that the group of early settlers to the west were reduced to cannibalism to survive being trapped in the Sierra Nevada mountains. The story of what these people went through, what theyachieved in a time of covered wagons, and the hardship they endured, is much more interesting than just what they had for dinner. I think Mr. Dickens was impressed with the tale.

I will not give the full story here, if you’d like more details click here: Donner

The sight of the Donner encampment is now the sight of a memorial park. The camps of the families were actually spaced pretty far apart as by the time they had gotten to this point, after seven months of a long and arduous journey, already weak and hungry, they weren’t on the best of terms. The memorial itself sits at the site where the Breen and Murphy families camped. The group had come across some old cabins left from mountain men that had been there before. A short distance away is the site of the Graves/Reed cabin, and even farther way is where the Donner family set up camp in tents. The site rests on the edge of Donner Lake.

The memorial has a statue on a large stone plinth. The height of the plinth represents the height of the snow that winter in 1846/47. This statue also stands at the sight of the Breen cabin. There is a path that leads around the monument, and I have to say, we didn’t want to step off of the path, knowing that many of those people perished on that soil.

After a walk through the museum, and a short film about the Donner Party, we took a walk down a nature trail to where the Murphy cabin stood. There is still the remnants of the fireplace standing there. Not only were we standing on Murphy Fireplace a historic site, but the site of a mass grave. We were actually standing on the grave itself. The survivors had been rescued in a series of three relief efforts. After the last survivor was rescued, a mass grave was dug in the floor of the Murphy cabin and most of the bodies were buried there. There were also some bodies buried at the other cabin sites.

The experience was interesting, awe inspiring, goose bump inducing, and a bit sad. Out of 81 people trapped on that mountain, only 45 survived.

After our exploration of the Donner Memorial, we drove around Donner Lake, pulled off to the side of the road, and hiked to a rock outcropping above a valley. It was a beautiful place to have a picnic lunch.

From there we drove all the way through the Tahoe National Forest, through Sacramento, and San Francisco, to Daly City where we were reunited with our daughter, Emily.

Road trip Day 1

Posted on May 24, 2013 by dlmarriott

I will first apologize for any typos and grammar errors. It’s 2:00am after a very long, sleep deprived day yesterday. On Thursday. we got off to a rough start. Thanks to a poorly set alarm, o-dark-hundred started a little later than anticipated. We wanted to be up by 2:00 am, but it ended up being 3:38am. Regardless, we got on the road (without forgetting anything that we can think of right now), without too much commotion.

The van was already packed. Thankfully Mr. Dickens is a small fellow – there really wasn’t any spaces or cubbyholes left unfilled. So the four of us, my husband Jim, our friends John and Sue, and I crammed ourselves into our allotted spaces and we hit the road. This will be the most boring part of our trip. It’s our intention to get to San Francisco as quickly as possible, then slow down and do some sightseeing. Not to say that our trip was boring. Oh no, the reason the four of us travel together so well, is that we can find humor in almost anything. There were many times that we were laughing so hard we were in tears. I’m very glad that, for a Victorian fellow, Charles Dickens was a bit of a wild guy. I’d hate to think we made him too uncomfortable! Even so, I’m pretty sure the ladies of his day were a bit more reserved than Sue and I are, and the gentlemen were a little more “gentlemanly” than Jim or John. I am certain he never heard song lyrics like the ones we were coming up with.

We left Wisconsin and drove south into Illinois, then west across the Mississippi River into Iowa. The only sights we saw in Iowa were from the car window as we zoomed by, which consisted of the worlds largest truck stop, and newly sprouted corn fields.

Lunch was a picnic lunch eaten at a truck stop somewhere between Omaha and Lincoln, Nebraska. We took turns at driving, except for Mr. Dickens of course. Each of us tried to nap at different times, but without the ability to stretch our legs out, none of us got any really useful rest. We did learn a little bit about the Oregon and Mormon trails which both parallel I-80, one to the north, and one to the south. I-8o is the second longest transcontinental highway, which runs all the way from New York City, to San Francisco, California. It is also the highway that most approximates the Lincoln Highway – the first road across America.

It was exciting to a small degree when we finally crossed the state line from Nebraska into Wyoming. Nebraska can feel like the longest state in the country. If you have never been in this part of the country it is desolate. There is nothing but scrub, tumbleweeds, and cattle ranches – lots and lots of cattle. Our rule of thumb is to always eat whatever is the local specialty, and that would be steak. So after a very scrumptious steak dinner at Little Bear Inn, although as you can see by this picture, their bear wasn’t all that little! We finally hunkered down at a La Quinta hotel at 9:00pm (which, since we crossed time zones would be 10:00pm Wisconsin time).

I would like to say I got a good nights rest, but as I said in the beginning, it’s only 2:00am and I’m awake typing this. In just two hours we will be up and back on the road. Today we aim for Reno, Nevada. Yesterday we traveled just over 1000 miles. today will be almost the same. At least we will be leaving the Great Plains and entering the Rocky Mountains. I know Mr. Dickens was not too fond of America in his past visits, but he’s never been to this part of the country. I have visited this beautiful mountain range before, and I think he may be in for a treat.

A Road Trip with Charles Dickens

Posted on May 21, 2013 by dlmarriott

As some of you already know, I seemed to have developed an obsession…no… fascination…umm…let’s say a fondness for Charles Dickens. It started with an idea about a Christmas story and ended up with months of research. Although my Christmas story is finished and published, the man just won’t leave me alone. There may even be a full-length novel in the future, because Mr. Dickens doesn’t seem content with just a novella.

In the process of all this research, I started a Facebook page called “The Charles Dickens Project.” http://www.facebook.com/TheCharlesDickensProject

Every week I post summaries on the Dickens book I’m currently reading (I’ve decided to read all of his books, in order), biographical facts, Dickensian term definitions, quotes, and other fun facts about the author. I also share links with other pages dedicated to Dickens including the Charles Dickens Museum in London.

Totally unrelated to this, my daughter, Emily moved to California. Well she flew to California to stay, the moving she left with us. So on Thursday morning, at o-dark-hundred, as we like to call the wee hours of the morning. my husband, another couple and I are embarking on a road trip from Wisconsin to California in van filled with my all my daughters possessions. We decided that if we have to drive, we might as well make the best of it, so our plans include stopping to see as many sites as we can in two weeks.

A couple of days ago, the Charles Dickens Museum posted a link on Facebook about a fun event they were hosting. It’s called Dickens On Tour, and it’s similar to Flat Stanley. They posted a picture of Charles Dickens and asked followers to print it. The idea is to take Charles Dickens with you to interesting places and snap a picture to post online. Could this be more perfect?

So now we have an additional passenger with us for our trip across America! I will post pictures along the way of Mr. Dickens enjoying the sights. To kick off this adventure, I took Mr. Dickens to work with me on my last day before we start our vacation. It is well known that Mr. Dickens loves animals. He had many pets over the years including several dogs, cats, two ravens (including the raven that inspired Barnaby Rudge as well as Edgar Allen Poe’s ‘The Raven’), a canary, and a pony. Lucky for him, my day job is in a veterinary clinic. As you can see, he looked happy to be there with me, and was thrilled to meet Gibson, the dog of one of our doctors.

If you’d like to follow us on our cross country adventure, you can find us on Facebook or keep checking here! I will keep you up to date on the things we see and the places we visit.

Mr. Dickens - YOU ARE HERE. — Mr. Dickens – YOU ARE HERE.

Spiritual Journey

Posted on November 10, 2012 by dlmarriott

Spiritual Journey

by D.L. Marriott

My husband and I love to travel. We usually travel with friends, shared experiences are always better. This time it provided witnesses. This story would be hard to believe, even to me, if I didn’t have them.

First a little bit about myself. My favorite time of the year is fall. I love the food, the crisp air, and the bright, yet earthy colors of the season.

I’m intrigued by early American history, and collect early American antiques. My love of all things colonial is enhanced, by the fact that my mother’s family settled on the east coast only a few years after the Mayflower. My family has played a part in U.S. history, my great-great-grandfather’s first cousin was President Grover Cleveland. We were royalty, so to speak, in America.

So I was, understandably, like a five year old going to Disneyland when we took a trip to New England in the autumn of 2004. It was my dream trip. It turned out to be much more than that.

We started in Boston and drove north through every seaside village we along the way, finally landing in Bar Harbor, Maine. It was breath taking. Every view out the car window looked like a picture postcard. I was particularly drawn to the quintessential white clapboard church. They’re all over New England, you can’t drive five miles without finding one. The image of the old white church, surrounded by fall foliage was the epitome of “Autumn in New England” to me. I’m pretty sure I turned from that delighted five year old into an obnoxious little urchin to my companions, as every time we drove past one I pointed out the window practically hopping up and down in my seat.

“Oh, look at the pretty little church,” was my mantra.

At first everyone agreed. By the end, it was usually a groan and a nod. I couldn’t help it they were just so…pretty.

Then there were the antique stores. Now I’m like the five year old in a candy store! You just don’t see antiques of this quality back home. We were stopping at every antique store we could find.

The first morning we awoke in a lovely bed and breakfast. Did I mention I just love country inns too? We started out early, wanting plenty of time to enjoy the sites as we made our way up the coast. The first town we came to was Essex, Massachusetts. Started in the 1700’s, it’s a town frozen in time. It’s also dotted with cute little antique stores. What more could I ask for? Unfortunately it was a bit early in the morning and most of the stores were still closed. We didn’t have the time to wait so we chalked it up to fate. Maybe we weren’t meant to stop. There were plenty of other towns, plenty of other shops to see. At the last moment, we noticed one antique shop that was open, but we couldn’t find a parking spot. Fate was toying with us. We had decided to just go on to the next town when we spied one solitary parking space. We pulled in, not believing our luck.

Knowing my family’s history in the area, I had talked with our friends about how fascinating it would be to find the grave of one of my ancestors on this trip. Of course, we weren’t going to take the time to actually wander through graveyards, so it was mostly said in jest. Imagine my surprise when I stepped out of the car and found myself standing in front of a very old cemetery. The only parking spot in this whole town and it is right in front of a cemetery. Is fate messing with me?

I laughed. “Hey! I wonder if any of my ancestor’s are buried here?”

I never got another word out as my eyes fell on a sign attached to the old wooden gate. It stated that the Reverend John Cleaveland was buried there. It turns out the Reverend helped to found the church and the town. I wasn’t sure this was one of my relatives, but I did know that that was the spelling my ancestors had used. We wandered in and found his grave along with the graves of his two wives, Mary and Mary. His first wife had died young and he wed again. Eventually I looked him up, our time was not wasted, he was family.

Already excited by this experience, we made our way into the antique store. It was packed full of wondrous treasures. In Wisconsin, it would have been a museum. My husband and I were both drawn to a cabinet in the corner of the basement. We fell in love with it immediately. Even the price was right, but we had a weeks worth of antique shopping. We couldn’t buy the first thing we saw.

We spent our week reenacting witch trials, hiking, sailing, whale watching, and eating a ton of seafood. I was amazed by the scenery, including all those pretty little churches. We went through dozens of antique shops, but never found another piece that we loved as much as that first one. Something about the fact that we found it in a town of one of my ancestors made me want it all the more. For all I knew, it was once his. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted it. I talked to my husband, and we talked to our friends. In the end the plans were changed and they agreed to go back to Essex. My heart ached with the hope that the mahogany secretary was still there. Fate was still with me, when we got there, it was still standing in the corner. Now for the haggling. When we discussed it amongst ourselves, we had to take in account our finances. The cost of shipping would be almost a third of the tag price. As much as we wished it, even out loud, we could not expect the owner to drop the price by that much. We would be lucky to get the customary ten percent discount. It was with this knowledge that we approached the woman behind the counter. She had quite the story to tell us.

“My goodness, everyone seems interested in that secretary. Three floors of antiques and we’ve had more people asking about that one piece than anything else all week. We even had one couple who had agreed to buy it, but the husband got angry when we had to ask him to move his car that was blocking our driveway. They just drove off, didn’t take it after all.”

Was there some otherworldly force at work? All that interest and it was still here waiting for me? What else did I need to believe that it was meant to belong to me?

We explained that we would need to make arrangements to have it shipped to Wisconsin. We were shocked beyond belief when the owner offered to not only make all the necessary arrangements, but to cover the cost of shipping if we paid the asking price. We never even asked for the discount. This piece was meant to be mine! We were told a little about the piece. It had been acquired from a local estate. It had possibly spent it’s entire life in Essex, and was from the same era as the time the Reverend had lived there. It fueled the illogical idea I had that this might be a family heirloom.

On the way back to the airport, we stopped in Rockport to do a bit of shopping. We were returning to the car when I realized that even though I had taken hundred’s of pictures, I had never taken one of any of the “pretty little churches” that I had oohed and aahed over. I could see a white steeple towering over the shops down the street. It was in the opposite direction of where we were headed. I sighed in defeat, following along behind my friends. They had put up with enough of my childlike behavior, I couldn’t ask for this too. Then I stopped. I wanted that picture. It was silly, but I wanted it enough to tell everyone to wait while I walked two blocks out of my way to take it. This time it had to be more than fate. It wasn’t until I got home and looked up the history of the church, that I discovered it was founded by another one of my ancestors, the Reverend Ebenezer Cleaveland. Of all the “pretty little churches” I had seen, I was compelled to take a picture of that one. I felt like my ancestors were speaking to me.

By the time the secretary arrived at our home, I was convinced it had to belong to my family. There were just too many coincidences, too many times fate stepped in to bring it to me. As soon as we had it out of it’s crate, we searched for some marking, some slip of paper that might give us a clue. We never did find any, but what we did find was that the upper cabinet was locked and there was no key. I had to question fate. That was until I remembered the beat up margarine container full of old keys we had taken from my grandfather’s house when he passed away several years before. Why we had taken that, of all the things my pack rat grandfather had collected, I do not know. Fate again? We went through every key, it was the last one that opened the doors. The Cleveland family had the key. I know it isn’t proof. I know some would call me crazy. But I know what I believe. I believe in fate, and I believe in spirits. That was no mere vacation. Those were not just coincidences. The spirits of my ancestors took me on a journey, and I have witnesses to prove it.

Addendum – November 10, 2012

My husband and I had gone through a series of moves, the last one in the fall of 2011. Somehow, during the move, the infamous key was again lost. We were upset, but held out hope that we would find it eventually.

Today, we were organizing some items in the antique secretary and my husband mentioned the key and how upset he was about it’s loss. I was more so, as I had been the one in charge of making sure the key had stayed safe. I found myself silently wishing we would just find that key. I pulled open a drawer in another cabinet to put something away and there, right out in the open, on top of everything else in the drawer, sat the key. Not only had I searched that drawer more than once, but I had just been in that same drawer a week before, and I know the key wasn’t there. So, did the spirits of my relatives hear my plea and return the lost key? I personally think so.