airstream adventure

life in 150 square feet on the open road and beyond

airstream, travel, full-time RV, road trip, america.



with another long day of traveling the interstates, we are grateful to have arrived safe and sound in old orchard beach, maine. what a day, folks.

one thing we have learned from other airstreamers is to "expect the unexpected", and i can't think of better or more true advice. pulling a 27' travel trailer can be nerve-wracking at times on its own accord, much less when you're in not-so-familiar territory. another word-to-the-wise: the GPS is not all-knowing. (can you guess where this tale is going?)

first thing's first: on our way to maine, we knew we'd have a quick stop along the way to break up the drive. we decided upon freehold, new jersey at the pine cone resort. pretty uneventful, which is exactly what you want for a quickie one night stop. the roads/sites were a mix and grass and dirt (mostly dirt from what we could tell, which makes for some serious mess if it rains) but the guy who checked us in was friendly. we didn't even unhitch as we knew we'd be leaving in the morning; makes for a quick and hassle-free getaway.

pine cone "resort", freehold, NJ. eh.

the trip from new jersey to old orchard beach was, in theory, supposed to take about six hours. it involves passing through new york, connecticut, massachusetts, new hampshire and maine. (whew. good thing those new england states are small.) after passing through some pretty backed-up traffic in new york city (the bronx, to be specific...ahhh, the lovely bronx) via the george washington bridge, our GPS (we affectionately call her "mappy", her nickname might be changing) instructed us to veer towards  albany, NY. okay. seems like a logical route. what we didn't know, errrr, is that particular westchester county highway isn't suitable for anything taller than your average toyota camry. ruh roh.

the george washington bridge, new york. aka: the gates of hell.
p.s. uhh, nice dent, audi.

for the record, i did feel like a few of the underpass bridges (while very quaint and made from stone) seemed a little....ohhh...what's the word?...LOW. when we somehow passed under a bridge with a clearance of 9'7", i am convinced it was a bonafide act of god himself. what chew talkin' 'bout willis – not more than 5 minutes later we spotted the dreaded flashing blue lights in the rearview mirror and ARE YOU KIDDING ME were being pulled over by one of new york's finest. huh? for what? i remain convinced of a few things. 1) we are lucky people 2) that lady cop was sent from above 3) we are lucky people. she informed us that we had no business being on that road and were lucky to have cleared the few bridges that we already had passed. she also informed us that there was a bridge ahead that we never would have cleared and it was non-negotiable to exit at the next ramp, from which we were to find our way to I-95. she proceeded to stop traffic to a slow crawl behind us, motorcade style, so we could pass under the middle of the bridge at its tallest point. not only were we idiots but we looked like important idiots. sweeeet. a few stressful wrong turns later, we made it to I-95, and let me tell you, i have never been so happy to see a boring, truck-driver laden piece of interstate. all hail I-95, glorious land of nothingness with no bridges.

it never seems in the cards for us to actually arrive at a campsite before nightfall, so after unhitching in the dark maine night on a site that seems OK at best, we are sending out a big, gracious high five to our road angels that are so obviously looking after us. thanks for making that policewoman pull us over and stop us from ripping the top of our beloved airstream off; that would be a real crappy way to start the first week of our airstream adventure.

the KOA campground here at saco/old orchard beach, ME looks pretty cute despite our less-than-stellar site. we'll scope out the details better in the light of day and be sure to report on just how many lobster rolls and blueberry pancakes we manage to scarf.

happy trails no matter where you roam,