Travel tip? Leave time for spontaneity in your vacation. The unknown can often create your best trip memories.
Summer 2001 - April 2003
The First Magnets
My collection of travel magnets started with the first two given to me as gifts. Along with the others I've purchased over the last 21 years, these special two remain on my refrigerator door as reminders of past friendships. Sadly, the friends who gave them to me individually both passed on the exact same day, one year apart from each other in 2005 and 2006.
Ruth G. visited Skytop often. She gave me my keepsake magnet probably sometime in 2000 after she made one of her repeat visits to this grand mountain lodge. I looked into staying there after receiving the magnet souvenir from her; however, at the time, the cost of staying overnight was not in the family budget. It remains to this day a destination I’d like to enjoy more and perhaps buy my own magnet from their gift shop.
Tina D. gave me my second magnet as a souvenir of her trip to St. Martin, probably sometime in 2003. I remember her telling me what an amazing time she enjoyed on the island with her husband Cal. When I placed the magnet she gifted me next to “Skytop”, I could only hope that one day, I’d visit places worthy of a refrigerator magnet.
And that’s how it all got started.
The Collection
By the summer of 2001, sons Phil and Henrik were easy travelers. They had proved this to be true during our fantastic trip to the Southwest earlier in the spring.
Every summer, I visited my parents, Bill and Else Matthews, with the boys for as much as two weeks while Pete worked for the most part back in PA. To put a little adventure into our lives that particular sweltering hot summer, I planned a mother and sons road trip despite there being no internet ( or personal cell phone) to help guide my way. Undaunted, I planned to hit the highway with paper maps, relying on directional signs to pre-planned nightly destinations. During this particular trip we drove 856 miles. We set off initially from Shelbyville, Ky.; making stops in Chattanooga and Jackson, Tn., and Cave City, Ky.
What stands out from that first road trip without Pete is that I discovered that being a spontaneous traveler is more often than not, the best (and most exciting) way to go.
First unscheduled stop, Indian Rock State Park, where the boys paddle-boated around for an hour. Later in the week, we saw signs on the interstate designating horseback riding available near an exit off of I-40 out in the middle of nowhere west Tennessee. When the fellas confirmed they were interested in riding horses, I turned off the highway and followed the signs to a large, well cared for barn. We ended up having a great time riding a dusty trail by horseback, thankful we had brought the mandatory jeans and closed toe shoes.
I really didn’t have much of a clue as to where I was exactly much of the time which made our adventures even more exciting.
The unplanned sight seeing trips continued even with my suffering a broken toe along the way. Though painful for me, the three of us managed to tour a bit of Mammoth Cave, including “Fat Man’s Misery”. Nearby, we discovered the Alpine Slide in Cave City. Both boys still remember fondly “chuting” down the concrete slide on runners using only a hand brake located between our legs to keep us from possibly hurdling off the side of the slide.
In most cases, our stops were unplanned, adding to the excitement of not knowing exactly what to expect. We even had time to stop in Shepherdsville, Kentucky, to attempt to find my old girl scout camp, Camp Shantituck.
I had to eventually go into the water company in town to get directions but it was worth the detour. After locating the main lodge and obtaining permission from the caretaker who just happened to appear out of nowhere, we walked many trails where I had been a camper in the mid-70’s. The camp was closed at the time so we were alone on the hundreds of acres of property. I experienced a peculiar haunted feeling roaming about on the lonely paths, many overgrown with weeds and cobwebs.
LOVED IT!
That whole week, we felt like travel pioneers, exploring and saying yes to quests we hadn’t tried before.
Best of all, the success of the trip with both planned and unplanned adventures gave me confidence that I was capable of personally designing more trips in future years.
We did have one escapade however; that almost quickly finished me up. One of my favorite travel magnets to date still reminds me of one of the most terrifying travel moments I’ve ever experienced. Incredibly, this “brush with terror” happened while enjoying one of my most favorite activities, riding a train.
My sister, Lisa Matthews, lived in Chattanooga that summer of 2001. She suggested we take a ride on a steam train on the East Tennessee Valley Railroad. Since we were all enthusiasts, it seemed like a brilliant idea.
Our train was pulled by a beautiful, and obviously very old, steam locomotive. I don’t remember too many details about the passenger car we sat in except that it was vintage and had working windows we could slide up and down. My seat was next to the window, one son sitting next to me. My sister sat in front of us with the other son seated next to her.
Before the “All aboard” was announced, we lowered the windows as much as possible to allow some air flow on that very hot and humid day.
What a delightful train ride! At first. The moving air from the open windows felt refreshingly cool as we glided along the rails into the Tennessee countryside. Sure, there was ash floating past our window from the steam engine’s immense smokestack but the wispy gray particles just added to the authenticity of our experience.
There was so much to take in and see. I especially enjoyed watching the look of joy on both son’s faces. When we saw an approaching tunnel, we all looked at each other with eager anticipation.
For me, my anticipation soon turned into worrisome anxiety.
As soon as our car was enveloped in darkness (turns out, this tunnel was quite long), the engine slowed before coming to a complete stop. I first thought it seemed kind of exciting to be sitting in the dark. I could easily smell the smoke coming in through the window next to me. I don’t remember being worried that the embers would come into the car itself but the overpowering smell of the smoke seemed to build incrementally so fast that before I knew it, I felt overwhelmed!
As a nurse, I have been trained to stay cool and calm in the face of danger but something told me that we weren’t supposed to be inside this tunnel for this long, especially while the smokestack continued to belch out oily, thick, and heavy smoke.
I tried in those first moments to just breathe, in and out, ignoring the fact that there seemed to be very little air in our compartment. My heart began to race. I just knew that horribly, the antique engine had broken down, in this dark, non illuminated tunnel, and soon, we’d be swallowed up by more thick, noxious smoke, completely choking off all air supply!
It took everything in me to not panic and try to get off the train. All the sounds around me dimmed as I tried my absolute best to just breathe, stay calm, and will that engine to please—GO!!!!
Finally, we started to move. Once I felt the wheels rolling again, my heart rate slowed and the pounding in my chest lessened quickly.
And then we were out— rolling along like nothing had happened. Lisa, Phil and Henrik seemed nonplussed by the whole episode. In fact, no one else in the entire train car looked bothered at all. Lisa and the boys never said a word about the stoppage in the tunnel. Maybe they thought the train was supposed to idle for an extra thrill. The whole episode probably lasted less than five minutes but it seemed like an hour.
It was thrilling alright. Just like another unsettling moment we had as a family two years later in August, 2003.
For years, while the boys were little, we visited a cottage community in Canada called Star Lake. Pete had gone there every year of his childhood and for him this place was his heaven on earth. It was perfect for our family in the early years. With canoes to row, rocks to jump off, and a beach to lounge on, it was THE perfect spot for a vacation with our young boys.
In August of 2003, the four of us made plans to return to Star Lake, sharing a small two bedroom cottage with Pete’s parents, Don and Alice. Fortunately, Pete agreed that four nights would be plenty in our tight accommodations. On our return trip home, we tacked on a road trip to a part of New York State we were generally unfamiliar with; the 1,000 Islands region, more specifically Alexandria Bay. Its location, on the St. Lawrence River and Eastern Lake Ontario, sounded perfect for our water loving family.
For our lodging, we stumbled on a massive, rambling old inn, called Pine Tree Resort (since closed). The place was genuinely spooky, definitely a mid-century relic. Our room was gigantic but smelled like no one had occupied it in quite a while. We explored all around the property on our first night. We wouldn’t have been surprised to encounter ghosts of guests who had visited there in its hey-dey, probably sometime during the 50’s and 60’s. The boys swam in the pool but seriously, I don’t remember seeing any other guests being around anywhere. There were other patrons in the restaurant at dinner but they seemed to vanish after we paid our bill and left our table.
Which may explain why we got super freaked out the next day.
There is plenty to do and see in this part of New York. Getting an early start, we took a boat ride to visit Boldt Castle, definitely worth visiting. We enjoyed it so much, I bought BOTH a magnet and a Christmas ornament in the gift shop.
I jotted down in my photo album that August 13, 2003 was a really hot day. Unfettered by the heat in the early afternoon, we discovered a fabulous go-cart course where Henrik got the chance to drive his own car for the first time. After that, all four of us “got lost” in a corn maze but quickly tired while wandering around in circles in the hot, dry field. As the day wore on, the heat became more and more oppressive. By mid-afternoon, we unanimously voted to leave early and head back home to Pennsylvania.
First though, an ice cream cone sounded delicious!
All four of us got out of the wagon and headed to the ice cream stand we came upon before entering the highway. The time was approximately 4 pm (I found this recently notated in my date book). At first we didn’t notice that the girl behind the counter was standing in the dark. Before we ordered she informed us that the power was out. The stand was closed.
“Hmmm, that’s odd”, Pete and I said to each other as we all got back into the car.
As we headed down the road, we started to notice that not just the ice cream stand was in the dark. It appeared as if whole towns were without power. As the miles continued, and still no lights appeared anywhere, Pete and I became very concerned.
September 11th had occurred only two years previously. We noted with dismay that after traveling fifty, sixty, eighty miles, there were no lights, anywhere. Has something happened? Could it be another terror event?
Pete noted that the gas pumps wouldn’t be operating without power. With growing concern, we wondered how long we would have to travel before finding fuel. One thing in our favor was that Pete had filled up our station wagon before we had started home.
We hadn’t eaten anything for several hours but stopping seemed out of the question. Everything appeared closed, including the rest areas (and working bathrooms).
We continued down the road in silence. I couldn’t find a radio station that had any news about a power outage. Truly, we felt like we had ended up on a real time episode of Twilight Zone with us being the last family on the planet.
It was three hours later (and nearly 8 pm) when we approached the city of Scranton, Pennsylvania. The lights were on! The relief felt by all of us was enormous. Though we were still worried that some sort of terror event had happened, Applebys appeared open for business.
Hallelujah!!!
We parked the car and practically ran into the restaurant for food, a bathroom, and answers.
The widespread power outage was caused by all sorts of issues: mother nature, human error, and computer glitches, but thankfully was not a result of a terror event. We didn’t know this information while we enjoyed a hot meal and blessed air conditioning. Mostly, we appreciated feeling safe and thankful to be together and almost home.
We loved Boldt Castle but at that moment, our little home in Wallingford, PA was castle enough for us.
It turns out, our family trips were just getting warmed up—literally.
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