We left western Pennsylvania behind on Wednesday morning. Packed up the 90 degree temperatures and stifling humidity and headed east and north. After all we wouldn't want to deprive anyone else of summer.
As we traveled east on I80 I was once again reminded of how beautiful the Keystone State is. The same for New York. These highly populated states get labeled by the cities that book-end their borders. Little mention is made of the thousands of square miles of mountains, rolling hills and farm land. All green and lush from a summer when rain was plentiful.
An overnight stop just east of Syracuse prompted a visit to a local Casino. (I do love those slots!) I am pleased to share that I crossed the threshold with $40 in my pocket and exited the building with $46. I am indeed a high roller. Casino management everywhere should cater to my every whim.
One of our goals in retirement is to visit all 50 states in this grand country. Thus our decision to turn the car north in Vermont instead of taking the easier route east and up the coast. It was not a mistake. Vermont is so...Vermonty.
As we made our way across the southern portion of the state there were quaint little towns boasting covered bridges and enough historic markers to pave a small city. Robert Frost is buried in the cementary next to this Congregational Church in Bennington.
We picked up the interstate close to the New Hampshire line and after spending most of the day traveling from south to north I can tell you that there are a lot of trees in Vermont. Yes indeed, a lot of trees. I can also tell you that food is hard to come by. At least on the portion of Interstate we were cruising. And the rest areas aren't really rest areas at all. They are "parking areas" which translated means "no facilities." But once I was fed, watered, and pottied I relaxed and enjoyed the beauty of the "Green Mountain State." I would love to have had the time to dip into those meandering valleys and explore the little hamlets hiding under the lush green canopies; given away only by the tall white steeples on the Congregational churches. It is a road less traveled and one that would be far more interesting.