As a starving artist living in a middle class garret on Music Mountain I can not be more thankful than this approaching holiday. It means a free meal somewhere! Luckily your most favorite moocher has been invited into the home of Janet's mom and I'm looking forward to the day. I do have to work in the morning, but will be out in time to get a turkey dinner. I'm required to bring wine, but this is such a small price to pay for the spread and the company. Plus! As a devoted shopper to the Giant Supermarket chain, I've evidently garnered enough points for a free turkey. It's like I hit the lottery.
Everyone please enjoy this holiday in the company of family and friends. We all have so much to be thankful for in these difficult times.
love,
greg
Monday, November 22, 2010
Monday, October 18, 2010
work work work work
The driving force of this particular blog is unemployment or underemployment. For too long a while I had been making just enough money to barely pay my bills with little extra. The economy has been bad for everyone for a long time and Vacations From Home has now 2 years under its ever tightening belt. Though it is a fun challenge to explore cheaper avenues of entertainment, thoughts of Hawaiian beaches and cafes in Italian piazzas will forever invade my day. Such destinations farther afield are beyond VFH's reach...at this point. There are glimmers though of hope. At least there is a lot of work coming in for this freelancer and the rule of thumb for a person in my position is you take as much of it of you can, because there's no guarantee there will be any tomorrow. Regardless, we are far far far away from planning some a trip that involves plane rides or over night stays. Who loses in this particular situation are the faithful readers of this ponderous blog. Without time to explore and "vacation" there is nothing to write about. Or, if something occurs, like Octoberfest last weekend in Lambertville, there is little time to write about it. Be patient, fair readers. It all works out.
In the wait for more entries you can always visit my other blog. I am posting my second novel online chapter by chapter as time allows: http://www.themusicmademecry.blogspot.com/ could be a nice diversion until then.
BTW ... Octoberfest in Lambertville really is just a good excuse to drink beer at the River Horse Brewery. Situated down by the canal the owners block off an area, put up a temporary stage for some rock bands and sell their beer. Buy a commemorative 16 oz glass for $7.00 and $4.00 pints thereafter. It's worth it, except the walk back up the hill to my house can be dicey...ask Janet.
www.riverhorse.com
love to all... got to get to work!
In the wait for more entries you can always visit my other blog. I am posting my second novel online chapter by chapter as time allows: http://www.themusicmademecry.blogspot.com/ could be a nice diversion until then.
BTW ... Octoberfest in Lambertville really is just a good excuse to drink beer at the River Horse Brewery. Situated down by the canal the owners block off an area, put up a temporary stage for some rock bands and sell their beer. Buy a commemorative 16 oz glass for $7.00 and $4.00 pints thereafter. It's worth it, except the walk back up the hill to my house can be dicey...ask Janet.
www.riverhorse.com
love to all... got to get to work!
Sunday, September 5, 2010
howell farm
Without a doubt Howell Farm saved my sanity over the years. It is part of the Mercer County, New Jersey park system and because it is less than 5 miles from my house it served as an extra playground for the kids when they were growing up. We'd pile in the car, sometimes with an extra body or two from the neighborhood, and drive over to the farm to pet the sheep, feed the chickens (sometimes helping the staff pluck an egg from the hen house), water the horses or just meander around the grounds. Each Saturday they would put on a special event, like digging up potatoes, or maple tree tapping. One year we went up there for the Easter Egg Hunt. It was a joy and it was all free and mostly we would have the place to ourselves during the week. It was close enough to home to bounce over there for an hour when the kids were restless and the playgrounds of Lambertville held no interest for the kids. 
Now this was nearly twenty years ago and thankfully the place hasn't changed much. I went there this past weekend when the better half of the VHF team was cavorting about in slower lower Delaware and I had to remain home. The barns and buildings at Howell Farm still have that old weathered look and are all open for exploration. One can walk into the hen house or the barn to pet the horses. The farm house still looks like it needs a lot of work and in the past one could meander through it, but this past weekend they had it roped off and there were construction supplies at the ready. The garden near the farm house was untended and wild. One major change is the administration building they built near the entrance to Howell Farm. The building also serves as an event hall and they've arranged for a lot of parking nearby. Over the years it seems many people have also discovered Howell Farm and the simple joy it offers. This past Labor Day weekend the place was brimming for it was the 27th annual Plowing Match!
It was well attended by both spectators and contestants and there beneath a brilliant sun and the surrounding hills shilouetted in the light I watched as teams of horses or oxen with their humans and their moldboard plows work the fields in as straight a line as possible at just the right depth in a competition using early 20th century technology. I arrived too late to sign up for a chance to try my hand at plowing, but marveled at others as they commanded the horse teams. A fellow in period dress held the reigns for the team and a lady with a clipboard from the farm uttered instructions to the participants who struggled with keeping the lines straight and the ends even. Afterwards the other teams who had finished the competiton waited patiently. Later in the day, after the awards were given out for the plowing competition, there was a pig roast and chicken barbeque, a children's craft program and pony rides, and an obstacle course for wagon driving. All the while a bluegrass band played from a stage near the house. This was all great fun; there were lots of kids at the event. As I waited in line for my roasted pig sandwich a man plucked meat from the offended porker, laying in a pan with an ear of corn in it's mouth, and offered some excellent meat for free. By the time I reached the end of the line and my sandwich I had had enough to eat, but I figured that was too sleazy and decided to open my wallet to spend the $5.00 for the meal. I filled my water bottle up several times at two different pump wells and saved on drinks as well. Each time I let a kid pump the handle so the water would flow and they were happy.
Each weekend there is a new event at Howell Farm. Save your sanity, and your pocket book.... Go...
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Merrily merrily merrily
An extended version of the VFH crew went tubing down the Delaware last week. Janet's daughter and her fiance came along for the er, float. We spent a lazy afternoon basking in the sun and drifting with the current. I have yet to experience a more endearing activity that requires so little effort. It was a hot day, but the sun was not fierce and the water was cool. We tootled down the river, sometimes splashing, sometimes dunking ourselves, sometimes bobbing around rocks and spinning in eddys. It was a leisurely, playful afternoon and Janet's daughter eventually became a fan although she was at first worried about snakes.
There are two tubing places along this stretch of the Delaware. One is in Pt. Pleasant, Pennsylvania. River Country offers an "early bird" special of $13 if one checks in before 11:30 am. I have often rented canoes from them; in fact I purchased a surplus Old Town 158 Discovery from them some years ago. But I never went tubing with them.
www.rivercountry.net/
Partly because we were unable to check in by 11:30, we opted instead for Delaware River Tubing. They are pricier, at $23, but with this price comes a meal from something called The River Hot Dog Man. Halfway down the length of the trip there is a conces
sion stand floating near the shoreline of an island. The allure of a couple of hot dogs, or a hamburger as well as either a bag of chips or a candy bar with drink was too much to ignore, as well as Adam's gut grumbling at the prospect of a "free" meal, so we decided to go to this Frenchtown, NJ establishment. http://www.delawarerivertubing.com/
A couple of caveats about this place though. They charge you $6.00 to park. This is something new, for we had last gone tubing a couple of years ago with no such extraneous cost. I knew the other establisment always charges for parking, which is all ridiculous. There is an easy solution to at least the Jersey place. If you're interested in tubing with Delaware River Tubing, I suggest you park in the New Jersey state parking lot that serves as a boat launch area and is situated directly across from the entrance of Delaware River Tubing on Route 29, and where the bus drops off their tubers (no not potatoes). There should be ample parking at this lot, at least during the week. I've been by it on the weekend and it is brimming with cars. Anyway, after you park you simply cross Route 29 and walk up a short road to the site. I felt it was ridiculous that they would charge us, but if the boat launch parking area is filled, you'll have to pay their price.
The last time we had gone tubing, the Frenchtown establishment was a sleepy place, but it had jumped the shark. I suppose with the economy a lot of people are staying closer to home and enjoying simpler things, but Delaware River Tubing had gone ballistic with all the extras they offered. To get to the shed to make your payment you had to pass underneath a long tent that had several "toys" for purchase. Things like water bazookas and pistols, and water tight compartments and t-shirts and water proof cameras and stickers were all for sale. They had changing rooms and showers and mountains and mountains of tubes. It was far different than when we flounced upriver to the place and they dropped us off and picked us up in a half filled bus. This time we had to wait for the next bus as the first was filled. The driver of our chariot said this has been the best summer season so far in all the years he'd been with the company.
One by one we plopped into our tubes and meandered downstream. Adam played like a little kid, and kept rinsing himself off by jumping in the water, putting water grass on his head and
when he found a clam he kept it for a good while and gave it a British style bawdy name.
We kept to the right of the islands, although they recommended we stay to the left on the Jersey side. At times the Pennsylvania side got very shallow and once or twice we had to get up and walk our tubes along, but because of this we basically had the river to ourselves. All the commotion from other tubers (not potatoes) were on the far side of the island. It was much more tranquil, that is, until we reached the River Hot Dog Man.
With music blaring from speakers atop a barge moored just off an island, the scene was chaotic but fun. People formed a line from the island and stood in the water to get their "free" food. The line was long, but moved quickly enough. More people would float down to the site while others, finished with their meals, would plop onto their tubes for the second half of the journey. To eat our lunch we sat at one of several picnic tables that were also in the water, with the seats just above the surface. It was a very unique experience.
Just past the River Hot Dog Man cliffs rise majestically on the New Jersey side and there are a series of rock shelves that make this area especially beautiful for me. As we drifted we admired the rock wall and dodged the shelves that formed little channels in the river. By then it was later in the afternoon and the sun was warm and there are a few minor rapids in the water on this stretch. We bounced up in down in the turbulent water. And, just as it seemed as the trip was too long, the stone pillars from an old bridge are sighted. This is where we get out. The pillars are all that is left of the bridge and the only modern item in a world of greenery and timeless water. They look like a set from a post-apocalyptic science fiction film.
There are two tubing places along this stretch of the Delaware. One is in Pt. Pleasant, Pennsylvania. River Country offers an "early bird" special of $13 if one checks in before 11:30 am. I have often rented canoes from them; in fact I purchased a surplus Old Town 158 Discovery from them some years ago. But I never went tubing with them.
www.rivercountry.net/
Partly because we were unable to check in by 11:30, we opted instead for Delaware River Tubing. They are pricier, at $23, but with this price comes a meal from something called The River Hot Dog Man. Halfway down the length of the trip there is a conces
sion stand floating near the shoreline of an island. The allure of a couple of hot dogs, or a hamburger as well as either a bag of chips or a candy bar with drink was too much to ignore, as well as Adam's gut grumbling at the prospect of a "free" meal, so we decided to go to this Frenchtown, NJ establishment. http://www.delawarerivertubing.com/A couple of caveats about this place though. They charge you $6.00 to park. This is something new, for we had last gone tubing a couple of years ago with no such extraneous cost. I knew the other establisment always charges for parking, which is all ridiculous. There is an easy solution to at least the Jersey place. If you're interested in tubing with Delaware River Tubing, I suggest you park in the New Jersey state parking lot that serves as a boat launch area and is situated directly across from the entrance of Delaware River Tubing on Route 29, and where the bus drops off their tubers (no not potatoes). There should be ample parking at this lot, at least during the week. I've been by it on the weekend and it is brimming with cars. Anyway, after you park you simply cross Route 29 and walk up a short road to the site. I felt it was ridiculous that they would charge us, but if the boat launch parking area is filled, you'll have to pay their price.
The last time we had gone tubing, the Frenchtown establishment was a sleepy place, but it had jumped the shark. I suppose with the economy a lot of people are staying closer to home and enjoying simpler things, but Delaware River Tubing had gone ballistic with all the extras they offered. To get to the shed to make your payment you had to pass underneath a long tent that had several "toys" for purchase. Things like water bazookas and pistols, and water tight compartments and t-shirts and water proof cameras and stickers were all for sale. They had changing rooms and showers and mountains and mountains of tubes. It was far different than when we flounced upriver to the place and they dropped us off and picked us up in a half filled bus. This time we had to wait for the next bus as the first was filled. The driver of our chariot said this has been the best summer season so far in all the years he'd been with the company.
One by one we plopped into our tubes and meandered downstream. Adam played like a little kid, and kept rinsing himself off by jumping in the water, putting water grass on his head and
when he found a clam he kept it for a good while and gave it a British style bawdy name.
We kept to the right of the islands, although they recommended we stay to the left on the Jersey side. At times the Pennsylvania side got very shallow and once or twice we had to get up and walk our tubes along, but because of this we basically had the river to ourselves. All the commotion from other tubers (not potatoes) were on the far side of the island. It was much more tranquil, that is, until we reached the River Hot Dog Man.
With music blaring from speakers atop a barge moored just off an island, the scene was chaotic but fun. People formed a line from the island and stood in the water to get their "free" food. The line was long, but moved quickly enough. More people would float down to the site while others, finished with their meals, would plop onto their tubes for the second half of the journey. To eat our lunch we sat at one of several picnic tables that were also in the water, with the seats just above the surface. It was a very unique experience.
Just past the River Hot Dog Man cliffs rise majestically on the New Jersey side and there are a series of rock shelves that make this area especially beautiful for me. As we drifted we admired the rock wall and dodged the shelves that formed little channels in the river. By then it was later in the afternoon and the sun was warm and there are a few minor rapids in the water on this stretch. We bounced up in down in the turbulent water. And, just as it seemed as the trip was too long, the stone pillars from an old bridge are sighted. This is where we get out. The pillars are all that is left of the bridge and the only modern item in a world of greenery and timeless water. They look like a set from a post-apocalyptic science fiction film.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Prost!
I have failed to relate our adventures in chronological order. This is the dilemma when the days are brimming with activity and joy.
Last weekend we drove up to Musikfest in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania for the second straight year. http://www.musikfest.org/ This two week event can be enjoyed on several levels. Throughout the picturesque town and along the park stages are set up with free shows of such diverse music that if you don't like something it's a simple stroll over to the next one. We listened to world music, or Soca, German Oompa, Dixieland Jazz, Folk and Zydeco, where Janet decided to dance.... or so she thought. There are 11 free stages and at least two impromptu gatherings of musicians playing on the street.
It's all free, except if you decide to take a shuttle bus in from on outlying parking lot for $4.00. We don't know enough of the town to know where to park, but we saw cars legally parked on the fringe of the Musikfest, so this is possible. It was a joy though to park out near the old steel works moldering slowly and get a quick tour of this rustbelt town as we were shuttled into the fray. Tickets for headliners throughout the two week event are available; few were sold out. Though I would have been interested in Counting Crows or Sublime or the Doobie Brothers, the operative word here is "cheap". What's the point of having fun if you have to spend money for it.
What is a necessary cost though are the mugs of beer. Each year the Musikfest organizers come up with a different design and slap it on a large plastic mug with a lid and make it available for purchase. Some people collect them for display. Any year's mug can be used to drink while strolling through the festival. Throughout the festival there are beer tents that offer very pedestrian Miller/Rolling Rock/Yuengling brews, but if you're interested in craft type brews do not settle for these. Any tavern in the town offer to fill your beer mug for usually just $6.00.A couple of places we visited were the Hotel Bethlehem on Main Street. We went inside the hotel lobby bar for a draught of Yards IPA. We also returned this year to the Bethlehem Brew Works, down the street, though the beers were very pedestrian. A new discovery this year was the Bahnhof, a German beer hall in the Main Street train depot, situated at one far end of the event on West Lehigh Street. The bar was in the station's former ticket booth and though there was a worn dreary feeling in the darkened, dusty place, the people propping up the bar and the bartenders were all were friendly and we chatted with patrons and drank very good German Witbiers. It was very good and we were happy with the find. Evidently it is brand new....except for the decor.
We liked the town enough to return and we plan to explore the area sometime in the future.
Last weekend we drove up to Musikfest in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania for the second straight year. http://www.musikfest.org/ This two week event can be enjoyed on several levels. Throughout the picturesque town and along the park stages are set up with free shows of such diverse music that if you don't like something it's a simple stroll over to the next one. We listened to world music, or Soca, German Oompa, Dixieland Jazz, Folk and Zydeco, where Janet decided to dance.... or so she thought. There are 11 free stages and at least two impromptu gatherings of musicians playing on the street.
It's all free, except if you decide to take a shuttle bus in from on outlying parking lot for $4.00. We don't know enough of the town to know where to park, but we saw cars legally parked on the fringe of the Musikfest, so this is possible. It was a joy though to park out near the old steel works moldering slowly and get a quick tour of this rustbelt town as we were shuttled into the fray. Tickets for headliners throughout the two week event are available; few were sold out. Though I would have been interested in Counting Crows or Sublime or the Doobie Brothers, the operative word here is "cheap". What's the point of having fun if you have to spend money for it.
What is a necessary cost though are the mugs of beer. Each year the Musikfest organizers come up with a different design and slap it on a large plastic mug with a lid and make it available for purchase. Some people collect them for display. Any year's mug can be used to drink while strolling through the festival. Throughout the festival there are beer tents that offer very pedestrian Miller/Rolling Rock/Yuengling brews, but if you're interested in craft type brews do not settle for these. Any tavern in the town offer to fill your beer mug for usually just $6.00.A couple of places we visited were the Hotel Bethlehem on Main Street. We went inside the hotel lobby bar for a draught of Yards IPA. We also returned this year to the Bethlehem Brew Works, down the street, though the beers were very pedestrian. A new discovery this year was the Bahnhof, a German beer hall in the Main Street train depot, situated at one far end of the event on West Lehigh Street. The bar was in the station's former ticket booth and though there was a worn dreary feeling in the darkened, dusty place, the people propping up the bar and the bartenders were all were friendly and we chatted with patrons and drank very good German Witbiers. It was very good and we were happy with the find. Evidently it is brand new....except for the decor.
We liked the town enough to return and we plan to explore the area sometime in the future.
Friday, August 20, 2010
the popcorn park zoo
The other morning looked bleary and the weather forecast called for rain, but we decided to drive to the shore anyway. There was talk of going to Gunnisons at Sandy Hook and then Wildwood to see the boardwalk. We decided against both and headed towards Seaside Heights.
Along the way we stopped at the Popcorn Park Zoo in Forked River, the animal recovery zoo run by New Jersey's SPCA. http://www.ahscares.org/ I had taken my children here several times over the years and considering the capricious weather it would be a nice (and cheap) diversion. The cages are somewhat dingy and there's a lot of critters on display that were once pets, but nothing too exotic. For a modest fee of $5.00 one could ogle potbellied pigs, capuchin monkeys, horses, emus and ostriches. You are encouraged to feed the animals with peanuts or popcorn available for purchase at the front gate. Also on display were several tigers rescued from bad situations, a panther, a blind camel and several hulking black bears who displayed an eerie calm as they lapped up popcorn kernels like house pets cleaning the kitchen floor of spilled food. Several of the cages had little placards telling the woeful tales of some of the creatures, including a tiger that was rescued from a Texas ranch that was going to use the animal as part of a "canned safari" and allow hunters to kill it. It made me feel good to be a part of something so helpful for animals.
I especially liked the peacocks that had full run of the zoo. While pondering the potbellied pigs one peacock jumped up on the fence near us and squawked as it looked at us for a hand out. It was very interesting to get a close look at the colorful tufts of feathers on his head.
There was also a normal Humane Society shelter for dogs and cats. We endured the howling to give it a quick breeze through to see all the pooches, but steeled ourselves from getting too attached to any particular one... we didn't want to anger my poor dog at home...
If you're going to the shore, especially with the kids, I highly recommend the Popcorn Park Zoo.
Afterwards we drove to Seaside Heights and Janet delighted in walking through the rides and games, saying it reminded her of Wildwood. The beaches here though were much narrower than in Wildwood. I've never been to Wildwood, but I have been coming here since I was a young boy... back around the time of dinosaurs and when dirt was just beginning to form on Earth. For 4o+ years everything looked pretty much the same, even some of the concession stands like the Kohrs ice cream stops looked exactly the same.
We walked the length of the boardwalk, looked at some crazy rides that I steadfastly refused to go on, though Janet was very interested, and had some ice cream. Two small cones with sprinkles from Kohrs cost me $9.00 with a tip! At the northern end of Seaside Heights we took a sky ride along the beach. Compartively docile to some of the roller coaster and sling shot rides we saw at the Casino and Funtown Piers, we swayed slowly in the breeze on ski lift type chairs along the beach side of the boardwalk looking down on the sunbathers.The ride was $3.00 one way, $5.00 round trip; a very nice bargain considering the views and the length of the voyage.
It had proved to be a very nice day for the beach, but we did not want to pay $10.00 for two of us to get on the beach, especially so late in the afternoon. We were happy with a spirited game of air hockey (Janet won) and a $2.50 beer at a bar called the Sawmill at the extreme southern end of the boardwalk. But, by the time we were finished with our drink the booth attendant had left for the day and we were able to walk along the beach in Seaside Park for a few blocks. The water was rough; bathers were not allowed in to swim, but we giggled like school kids because we got something for free!
Later we drove to Bum Rogers which is just a block away from IBSP. The happy hour menu is very cheap and the food was great quality. We had mussels for $6.00, chicken wings at $.50 per and a very tasty burger for just $4.00! We drank Harpoon IPA for $2.50 a mug and played shuffle board for free after our food. Well, Janet played...I just got beat down.
After being turned away at Island Beach State Park because we did not want to pay the entrance fee at such a late hour, we took a meandering drive up route 35 through all the little towns like Lavellette and Normandy Beach, Bay Head and Pt. Pleasant before turning onto Route 195 for the quick ride home.
Thanks for reading, much more to come.
Along the way we stopped at the Popcorn Park Zoo in Forked River, the animal recovery zoo run by New Jersey's SPCA. http://www.ahscares.org/ I had taken my children here several times over the years and considering the capricious weather it would be a nice (and cheap) diversion. The cages are somewhat dingy and there's a lot of critters on display that were once pets, but nothing too exotic. For a modest fee of $5.00 one could ogle potbellied pigs, capuchin monkeys, horses, emus and ostriches. You are encouraged to feed the animals with peanuts or popcorn available for purchase at the front gate. Also on display were several tigers rescued from bad situations, a panther, a blind camel and several hulking black bears who displayed an eerie calm as they lapped up popcorn kernels like house pets cleaning the kitchen floor of spilled food. Several of the cages had little placards telling the woeful tales of some of the creatures, including a tiger that was rescued from a Texas ranch that was going to use the animal as part of a "canned safari" and allow hunters to kill it. It made me feel good to be a part of something so helpful for animals.
I especially liked the peacocks that had full run of the zoo. While pondering the potbellied pigs one peacock jumped up on the fence near us and squawked as it looked at us for a hand out. It was very interesting to get a close look at the colorful tufts of feathers on his head.
There was also a normal Humane Society shelter for dogs and cats. We endured the howling to give it a quick breeze through to see all the pooches, but steeled ourselves from getting too attached to any particular one... we didn't want to anger my poor dog at home...
If you're going to the shore, especially with the kids, I highly recommend the Popcorn Park Zoo.
Afterwards we drove to Seaside Heights and Janet delighted in walking through the rides and games, saying it reminded her of Wildwood. The beaches here though were much narrower than in Wildwood. I've never been to Wildwood, but I have been coming here since I was a young boy... back around the time of dinosaurs and when dirt was just beginning to form on Earth. For 4o+ years everything looked pretty much the same, even some of the concession stands like the Kohrs ice cream stops looked exactly the same.
We walked the length of the boardwalk, looked at some crazy rides that I steadfastly refused to go on, though Janet was very interested, and had some ice cream. Two small cones with sprinkles from Kohrs cost me $9.00 with a tip! At the northern end of Seaside Heights we took a sky ride along the beach. Compartively docile to some of the roller coaster and sling shot rides we saw at the Casino and Funtown Piers, we swayed slowly in the breeze on ski lift type chairs along the beach side of the boardwalk looking down on the sunbathers.The ride was $3.00 one way, $5.00 round trip; a very nice bargain considering the views and the length of the voyage.
It had proved to be a very nice day for the beach, but we did not want to pay $10.00 for two of us to get on the beach, especially so late in the afternoon. We were happy with a spirited game of air hockey (Janet won) and a $2.50 beer at a bar called the Sawmill at the extreme southern end of the boardwalk. But, by the time we were finished with our drink the booth attendant had left for the day and we were able to walk along the beach in Seaside Park for a few blocks. The water was rough; bathers were not allowed in to swim, but we giggled like school kids because we got something for free!
Later we drove to Bum Rogers which is just a block away from IBSP. The happy hour menu is very cheap and the food was great quality. We had mussels for $6.00, chicken wings at $.50 per and a very tasty burger for just $4.00! We drank Harpoon IPA for $2.50 a mug and played shuffle board for free after our food. Well, Janet played...I just got beat down.
After being turned away at Island Beach State Park because we did not want to pay the entrance fee at such a late hour, we took a meandering drive up route 35 through all the little towns like Lavellette and Normandy Beach, Bay Head and Pt. Pleasant before turning onto Route 195 for the quick ride home.
Thanks for reading, much more to come.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
the jersey shore
I must insist here that I certainly do not watch this notorious "reality" show, The Jersey Shore, but I feel it was a crying shame they recently arrested Snooki...
In NJ one does not make a normal turn off a road. You use jughandle ramps. No one from New Jersey goes to the beach, but to the shore. And, as a VFH founding member I have been trying to get away with going to the shore for free all of my life. As a moocher in training I had learned to arrive early enough to avoid fees that are as a part of the Jersey shore scene as suntan lotion and splinters from the boardwalk. If you got on the beach early enough before the booth attendants set up shop you were on for good and only had to keep an eye open for patrols looking for beach tags and then would have to simply jump in the ocean to avoid this persecution.
Over the years your VFH team has gone through some extreme and bizarre antics in securing a free day at the shore, from sleeping in cars, stealing or trading beach tags or wrist strings (at Pt. Pleasant) or attempting to pay our way by stealing tips at bars or coins from the NJ Parkway automatic toll booths. Janet, a shoobe, but still loveable, says sometimes she would come away with more money than when she started the weekend.
There are roughly 130 miles of shoreline in New Jersey and depending on your interests and pocketbook there is a beach for everyone. From the wild frenetic pace of Seaside Heights to the smoldering decay of Asbury Park, the Jersey shore is a destination during the summer months.
But, how to avoid the fees is VFH's task.
www.newjerseyshore.com/beach-badges.shtml
If you go to this website you'll see that nearly every town levees a charge. Only Wildwood and Atlantic City are cost free, but as a Bennie, they are too far to travel for the day. From Lambertville I can be in Belmar in about an hour by taking Route 195. There are also two parks along the shore. One is Sandy Hook, a part of the United States government Gateway National Recreation Area and the other is Island Beach State Park, just south of Seaside Heights. Their individual websites are listed below.
www.nps.gov/gate/planyourvisit/feesandreservations.htm
http://www.islandbeachnj.org/
The fees assessed at Sandy Hook and IBSP are reasonable as they are per car, not per person. Because of this the parks tend to fill up quickly, so getting there early is important. Getting there especially early is really important, if one wants to save the fee. Now, I'm unsure about IBSP because I've only gone there during regular hours, but I believe they are less relaxed than Sandy Hook. The other day we tried to enter IBSP after a happy hour meal / libation soiree and shuffle board war at Bum Rogers in Seaside Park (a favored place) and they wanted to charge us to enter. It was nearly 7 pm and still light out. The uniformed attendant gleefully turned us away. They charge an entry fee until dusk. Don't know if their rules are as strict for the beginning of the day, or even if the park is open earlier than 7:00 am, but that is too far to drive for that experiment! One way to avoid the fee at IBSP is to park outside and run or ride a bike inside along the narrow shoulder. It's quite a distance to the bathhouses though, at least 2.5 miles.
www.seasideparkonline.com/r_bumrogers.htr
I know that Sandy Hook is free if I arrive earlier than their 7:00 a.m. official opening. I may be older and more flush with cash than when I was a youth, but I'm still cheap. Janet refuses to go there so early because sleep is a higher priority, but when the day presents itself as a beach day and I am alone, I'll get up at an ungodly hour to travel the 1 1/2 hours along secondary roads to slip in before I have to pay. It's thrilling, because it's not illegal. The main booths are open but unmanned. Halfway through the park, heading for Gunnisons Beach, there is a booth and an attendant in a National Park uniform hands out a little day pass and they even smile and say good morning.
It is also thrilling because it is very beautiful. Sandy Hook at such an early hour is serene and not the noisy place brimming with people that it inevitably becomes. The other day there was a hazy blood red sunrise over the Atlantic and the wind was cool and the air was misty from the incessant grey waves and New York City was hidden by fog and the day held promise. Happy with having saved myself $10.00 I ran along the path that skirted the waters of Raritan Bay and watched the commuter ferrys leave Keyport on their way to lower Manhattan and then past the Nike Missle Radar site and the Ft. Hancock Coast Guard base and the historic lighthouse that was first erected in 1823. And later that day, when I dozed in my beach chair, I dreamt of where to spend that hard earned ten dollars.
I eventually ended up in Kelly's Tavern in Neptune City www.kellystavernjerseyshore.com for some beer and wings.
Thanks for reading...
In NJ one does not make a normal turn off a road. You use jughandle ramps. No one from New Jersey goes to the beach, but to the shore. And, as a VFH founding member I have been trying to get away with going to the shore for free all of my life. As a moocher in training I had learned to arrive early enough to avoid fees that are as a part of the Jersey shore scene as suntan lotion and splinters from the boardwalk. If you got on the beach early enough before the booth attendants set up shop you were on for good and only had to keep an eye open for patrols looking for beach tags and then would have to simply jump in the ocean to avoid this persecution.
Over the years your VFH team has gone through some extreme and bizarre antics in securing a free day at the shore, from sleeping in cars, stealing or trading beach tags or wrist strings (at Pt. Pleasant) or attempting to pay our way by stealing tips at bars or coins from the NJ Parkway automatic toll booths. Janet, a shoobe, but still loveable, says sometimes she would come away with more money than when she started the weekend.
There are roughly 130 miles of shoreline in New Jersey and depending on your interests and pocketbook there is a beach for everyone. From the wild frenetic pace of Seaside Heights to the smoldering decay of Asbury Park, the Jersey shore is a destination during the summer months.
But, how to avoid the fees is VFH's task.
www.newjerseyshore.com/beach-badges.shtml
If you go to this website you'll see that nearly every town levees a charge. Only Wildwood and Atlantic City are cost free, but as a Bennie, they are too far to travel for the day. From Lambertville I can be in Belmar in about an hour by taking Route 195. There are also two parks along the shore. One is Sandy Hook, a part of the United States government Gateway National Recreation Area and the other is Island Beach State Park, just south of Seaside Heights. Their individual websites are listed below.
www.nps.gov/gate/planyourvisit/feesandreservations.htm
http://www.islandbeachnj.org/
The fees assessed at Sandy Hook and IBSP are reasonable as they are per car, not per person. Because of this the parks tend to fill up quickly, so getting there early is important. Getting there especially early is really important, if one wants to save the fee. Now, I'm unsure about IBSP because I've only gone there during regular hours, but I believe they are less relaxed than Sandy Hook. The other day we tried to enter IBSP after a happy hour meal / libation soiree and shuffle board war at Bum Rogers in Seaside Park (a favored place) and they wanted to charge us to enter. It was nearly 7 pm and still light out. The uniformed attendant gleefully turned us away. They charge an entry fee until dusk. Don't know if their rules are as strict for the beginning of the day, or even if the park is open earlier than 7:00 am, but that is too far to drive for that experiment! One way to avoid the fee at IBSP is to park outside and run or ride a bike inside along the narrow shoulder. It's quite a distance to the bathhouses though, at least 2.5 miles.
www.seasideparkonline.com/r_bumrogers.htr
I know that Sandy Hook is free if I arrive earlier than their 7:00 a.m. official opening. I may be older and more flush with cash than when I was a youth, but I'm still cheap. Janet refuses to go there so early because sleep is a higher priority, but when the day presents itself as a beach day and I am alone, I'll get up at an ungodly hour to travel the 1 1/2 hours along secondary roads to slip in before I have to pay. It's thrilling, because it's not illegal. The main booths are open but unmanned. Halfway through the park, heading for Gunnisons Beach, there is a booth and an attendant in a National Park uniform hands out a little day pass and they even smile and say good morning.
It is also thrilling because it is very beautiful. Sandy Hook at such an early hour is serene and not the noisy place brimming with people that it inevitably becomes. The other day there was a hazy blood red sunrise over the Atlantic and the wind was cool and the air was misty from the incessant grey waves and New York City was hidden by fog and the day held promise. Happy with having saved myself $10.00 I ran along the path that skirted the waters of Raritan Bay and watched the commuter ferrys leave Keyport on their way to lower Manhattan and then past the Nike Missle Radar site and the Ft. Hancock Coast Guard base and the historic lighthouse that was first erected in 1823. And later that day, when I dozed in my beach chair, I dreamt of where to spend that hard earned ten dollars.
I eventually ended up in Kelly's Tavern in Neptune City www.kellystavernjerseyshore.com for some beer and wings.
Thanks for reading...
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
The Situation
Sometimes when the world is out there and your humble chronicler of all moochable flings is raring to go, he forgets his duties and fails to pass on his findings to his favorite audience of this blog. I feel guilty that I am fully enjoying these days of August, but I am not taking the time to share the experiences. The days though have been full and complete, brimming with activities and they have cascaded one after another tumbling quickly from sunrise to sunset. The flurry of events have taken their toll and with the occident I too tumble into bed tired and allow the whims and caprices of the day to dance in my head, a smile graced across my lips.
Sometimes the days are simpler. Filled with trips to the gym so that your intrepid travelers have the strength and stamina to hold up to the rigors of the road, as well as trips to the grocery store for fuel. Despite the mundane, these are nonetheless days of great worth for the VFH team greatly benefits from these tantric rituals and we emerge with such elan and passion that our reach often exceeds our grasp and like bees we fly through the air bouncing off flowers and walls.
You see there is a pattern here.
To give a quick recount of the events would be futile, and it would not be prudent to try and capture every detail of each of the days because this blog entry would be so lengthy as to inspire nausea. So, please suffice it to say that currently we at VFH central are going gang busters and later on I will try to spoon feed details...
Sometimes the days are simpler. Filled with trips to the gym so that your intrepid travelers have the strength and stamina to hold up to the rigors of the road, as well as trips to the grocery store for fuel. Despite the mundane, these are nonetheless days of great worth for the VFH team greatly benefits from these tantric rituals and we emerge with such elan and passion that our reach often exceeds our grasp and like bees we fly through the air bouncing off flowers and walls.
You see there is a pattern here.
To give a quick recount of the events would be futile, and it would not be prudent to try and capture every detail of each of the days because this blog entry would be so lengthy as to inspire nausea. So, please suffice it to say that currently we at VFH central are going gang busters and later on I will try to spoon feed details...
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
COMPETITION!
Bored and without my VFH counterpart, I decided to allow the afternoon to pass at a leisurely pace. It was hot and sunny and I drove up just north of Frenchtown, NJ to go for a run on the towpath of the Delaware and Raritan Feeder Canal. It was dug in the 1830's to transport coal from Pennsylvania to New York City and though the canal actually begins a few miles south of Frenchtown, where the river is siphoned off at Bull's Island State Park, the towpath was also used as a track bed for the Belvidere Delaware Railroad. The Bel Del railroad started in 1853 and was used to carry passengers and product for many years from Trenton to Belvidere, NJ. When I first moved to Lambertville they were still running a portion of the train system, the Black River and Western out of Flemington and into Lambertville. Now this particular line only goes as far as Ringoes.
Good sources of information about the Bel Del historic train line are: www.usrailroading.com/railroads/beldel_history.htm
But, despite the thousands of miles I have run along the towpath's length, I have never run north of Frenchtown. And so the other day, with nothing else to do, and obviously lots of time to kill, I decided to run somewhere new. Most of my running is around the Lambertville area, but today I drove up to the town, named thusly because a Swiss immigrant (with a French accent) settled in the area during the late 1700's.
http://www.frenchtown.com/
I found the end of the Delaware and Raritian Canal trail. Sadly, it only goes another 2 miles or so north of Bridge Street, though the track bed, according to maps, continues much further along. I actually saw no real signs of a track bed at all. The trail's end is obvious as it reaches a dirt road that winds through a corn field and to the Milford Frenchtown Road and the trail itself rapidly devolves into an overgrown hiking trail, not suitable for running. I was okay with the short distance, though I would have liked to get a longer run in for the day. The park here is very isolated and beautiful. The river was never far away and the road quite a distance off. It was as though I had the place to myself. (This means no one got to see me struggle...I am so out of shape!!!)
My reward for the run was a trip to The Ship Inn in Milford. http://www.britishbrewpub.com/
I've been going to the Ship for years now, since it opened in 1985. Fifteen years ago they started brewing their own beer. Pints are $5.25. Reasonable, good food, very good British style beers, some on hand pumps, are served in the renovated Victorian era building that sports a mildly nautical decor. It's a warm cozy place and not one television in sight. Wednesday nights you can get fish and chips and a pint for $10.00.
Well, as I was there by myself I had to gather up some reading materials to sit at the bar. I had ordered a hamburger with Stilton cheese. There were two older couples talking about the good old days when route 29 did not connect fully and they would drag race on the stretch of road, but I was more interested in reading the free handout called the Ale Street News. I finished that and as my burger came around I found the Ship Inn's little photocopied newspaper. I was very impressed. Developments at The Ship Inn included the restaurant making a point of getting beef and vegetables locally, meaning within 4 miles of the place and a move towards a greener establishment by using biodegradable straws and cocktail stirrers. But! I was shocked when I read how The Ship was in direct competition with the storied franchise, Vacations From Home. On the back of their flyer/newspaper was a very nice compilation of things do in the Delaware Valley. I wasn't really shocked, but was actually very pleased they are as proud of the area as I am. Some of the listings included frisbee golf at Tinicum Park or a place to go for a good cup of coffee in Upper Black Eddy, PA as well as a couple of websites to further plan your escapades in the area. They list the same events on their website.
Explore the Delaware Valley. From splashing about on the river, to meandering drives, to vintners, to hikes in the area state parks, there are many things to do and see without going that far from (my) home... As a chronicler of all things cheap and entertaining I may never need to leave my little place in this wide world to enjoy life.
thanks for reading.
Good sources of information about the Bel Del historic train line are: www.usrailroading.com/railroads/beldel_history.htm
Everything has now been converted into one long park that runs along the eastern shore of the Delaware and eventually makes its way across the state and ending in the Raritan Bay. This wonderful park system has been a great source of entertainment for me over the 20+ years I have lived in the Lambertville area. One can run or bike for miles and miles along this flat, serene trail. Traveling north past the beginning of the canal at Bull's Island, there are only sweeping views of the Delaware River as the trail hugs the river and Route 29 seeks a different route. It is a joy to train for marathons along this trail despite having to dodge deer, fox, wild turkeys and snapping turtles as I lope along.
But, despite the thousands of miles I have run along the towpath's length, I have never run north of Frenchtown. And so the other day, with nothing else to do, and obviously lots of time to kill, I decided to run somewhere new. Most of my running is around the Lambertville area, but today I drove up to the town, named thusly because a Swiss immigrant (with a French accent) settled in the area during the late 1700's.
http://www.frenchtown.com/
I found the end of the Delaware and Raritian Canal trail. Sadly, it only goes another 2 miles or so north of Bridge Street, though the track bed, according to maps, continues much further along. I actually saw no real signs of a track bed at all. The trail's end is obvious as it reaches a dirt road that winds through a corn field and to the Milford Frenchtown Road and the trail itself rapidly devolves into an overgrown hiking trail, not suitable for running. I was okay with the short distance, though I would have liked to get a longer run in for the day. The park here is very isolated and beautiful. The river was never far away and the road quite a distance off. It was as though I had the place to myself. (This means no one got to see me struggle...I am so out of shape!!!)
My reward for the run was a trip to The Ship Inn in Milford. http://www.britishbrewpub.com/
I've been going to the Ship for years now, since it opened in 1985. Fifteen years ago they started brewing their own beer. Pints are $5.25. Reasonable, good food, very good British style beers, some on hand pumps, are served in the renovated Victorian era building that sports a mildly nautical decor. It's a warm cozy place and not one television in sight. Wednesday nights you can get fish and chips and a pint for $10.00.
Well, as I was there by myself I had to gather up some reading materials to sit at the bar. I had ordered a hamburger with Stilton cheese. There were two older couples talking about the good old days when route 29 did not connect fully and they would drag race on the stretch of road, but I was more interested in reading the free handout called the Ale Street News. I finished that and as my burger came around I found the Ship Inn's little photocopied newspaper. I was very impressed. Developments at The Ship Inn included the restaurant making a point of getting beef and vegetables locally, meaning within 4 miles of the place and a move towards a greener establishment by using biodegradable straws and cocktail stirrers. But! I was shocked when I read how The Ship was in direct competition with the storied franchise, Vacations From Home. On the back of their flyer/newspaper was a very nice compilation of things do in the Delaware Valley. I wasn't really shocked, but was actually very pleased they are as proud of the area as I am. Some of the listings included frisbee golf at Tinicum Park or a place to go for a good cup of coffee in Upper Black Eddy, PA as well as a couple of websites to further plan your escapades in the area. They list the same events on their website.
Explore the Delaware Valley. From splashing about on the river, to meandering drives, to vintners, to hikes in the area state parks, there are many things to do and see without going that far from (my) home... As a chronicler of all things cheap and entertaining I may never need to leave my little place in this wide world to enjoy life.
thanks for reading.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
penguins...they're practically chickens!
Not that I've ever considered munching on penguins, but I've never passed on the opportunity to watch them cavort in a zoo. They are so cute. I've also never ever passed on chicken wings! I once worked a game in Buffalo and trudged blocks through deep snow drifts to eat at the Anchor Bar. That was easy though. It's where the whole phenomenon began in 1964 and the wings there are especially huge and tasty.
Your intrepid VFH team never passes on the chance to munch on wings. Like a string of oases in a desert, we count on favored gin mills with their personal wing concoctions to quell our hunger. As we travel through familiar landscapes our conversation usually is dotted with talk about wings and which place to grace with our wide grins and empty stomachs. We often talk about seriously taking notes on the wings and selection of beers available and cobbling together some sort of guide book. Sometimes we quibble over what is the best wing available, but we never pass on the chance to eat them. I think though, no matter where we eat them, no matter the sauce employed, we will always come back to the Tiger's Tale, near Princeton, NJ (and named after the University's mascot). It has a vast bar with lots of microbrews and features typical pub grub, but they prepare their cajun wings on a grill behind the bar! Appropriately charred, meaty with just enough spice, these are our favorite.
But of course...we've never been to the Anchor.
We are not able to travel to Buffalo anytime soon to weigh in on this contest, but I just recently read about an event there during Labor Day Weekend. It's called the National Buffalo Wing Festival. The two day event has been held since 2002 and features wings from restaurants from around the country, a .5 mile Running of the Chickens, a wing eating contest, as well as a Miss Buffalo Wing beauty pageant. Janet wants to enter the beauty contest, after she wins the race and the eating contest. It sounds like we should plan this event next year. (http://www.buffalowing.com/)
Sunday, August 1, 2010
fly away
After drinking many beers and eating many delicious meals and working on our tans and slapping at flies our time in Delaware has ended. Our benefactors of this trip, Carl and Jill, will soon be returning from their family reunion out at Broadkill Beach and the relative shoreline mansion their friends lent them for the week. Their lovely Black Lab, Cindy Lou, could not handle all the stairs at this beach house so we were asked to tend to the pooch. She's a great dog, if only she would leave my shoes alone! As a retriever she absolutely loves to go around with something in her mouth. If she can't find the little plush toy goose she favors, it's my shoe or sandle. For a mooching pair like your stalwart Vacation From Home team, this week was a great joy and an honor to have been able to help our friends.
Thank you.
The other day we drove south of Dewey Beach for the day to a spot on the Coastal Highway, Route 1, called Towers Road. There's a beach access there with ample parking and with concession stands and the surf was strong and the sand was crowded with families. It was treacherous water, but it was fun to be brave in the churning froth and ride the waves. The temperature was cooler that day and the sun was warm and pleasant.
Yesterday, for our last evening, we thought to drive down to this Towers Road, thinking that around 6 p.m. we could savor the last of the day for free, that they would stop taking the $8.00 fee. Late afternoon on the beach is especially enjoyable. The sun is lower and the light golden and the waves turn blue green in color. We would either take the beach chairs and dig our toes in the sand or simply linger a short while by the little boardwalk that leads down to the beach from the concession stand. It should have been a pleasant time before we took our meal at Big Fish Grill Seafood Restaurant which is on Route 1 in Rehoboth Beach, but the old fellow in the wraparound sunglasses and garroulous but friendly way was just leaving his booth for the evening. We asked if we were able to go on the beach for free and he said there's a 24 hour fee and that we could fill out a little envelope and place it in the little box by the booth. Delaware has no sales tax, but you do pay for everything.
We opted instead for an early meal at Big Fish Grill (http://www.bigfishgrill.com/). Janet had a Halibut with pineapple salsa that was very tasty and fresh. Evidently they never have frozen fish at Big Fish Grill and so the Halibut costs more because it is flown in from wherever the Halibut comes from which I've been told is Alaska. I had a piece of blackened Grouper on a Caesar Salad that probably just hitchhiked its way up from Florida. Afterwards we drove to Lewes again and sat upstairs at Agave in a little bar they maintain there for another margarita. We sat on a couch and watched people get drunk as they waited for their tables downstairs. It was a good place for people watching.
Thanks for reading.
Thank you.
The other day we drove south of Dewey Beach for the day to a spot on the Coastal Highway, Route 1, called Towers Road. There's a beach access there with ample parking and with concession stands and the surf was strong and the sand was crowded with families. It was treacherous water, but it was fun to be brave in the churning froth and ride the waves. The temperature was cooler that day and the sun was warm and pleasant.
Yesterday, for our last evening, we thought to drive down to this Towers Road, thinking that around 6 p.m. we could savor the last of the day for free, that they would stop taking the $8.00 fee. Late afternoon on the beach is especially enjoyable. The sun is lower and the light golden and the waves turn blue green in color. We would either take the beach chairs and dig our toes in the sand or simply linger a short while by the little boardwalk that leads down to the beach from the concession stand. It should have been a pleasant time before we took our meal at Big Fish Grill Seafood Restaurant which is on Route 1 in Rehoboth Beach, but the old fellow in the wraparound sunglasses and garroulous but friendly way was just leaving his booth for the evening. We asked if we were able to go on the beach for free and he said there's a 24 hour fee and that we could fill out a little envelope and place it in the little box by the booth. Delaware has no sales tax, but you do pay for everything.
We opted instead for an early meal at Big Fish Grill (http://www.bigfishgrill.com/). Janet had a Halibut with pineapple salsa that was very tasty and fresh. Evidently they never have frozen fish at Big Fish Grill and so the Halibut costs more because it is flown in from wherever the Halibut comes from which I've been told is Alaska. I had a piece of blackened Grouper on a Caesar Salad that probably just hitchhiked its way up from Florida. Afterwards we drove to Lewes again and sat upstairs at Agave in a little bar they maintain there for another margarita. We sat on a couch and watched people get drunk as they waited for their tables downstairs. It was a good place for people watching.
Thanks for reading.
Friday, July 30, 2010
the first town in the first state
We drove down to Lewes, Delaware the other night for dinner and drinks. It is a lovely town and it reminds me a lot of Lambertville with all the restaurants and historic homes. We have read that Lewes is a good place to live and since that day we have been looking into the plausability of relocating the VFH central headquarters to the comfy confines of the "first town in the first state".
That evening we parked on 2nd Street, right in front of the old St. Peter's Episcopal Church and strolled down to Front Street and stopped to read menus and window shop and look at the Cannonball house with it's British shell still embedded in the lower wall, fired there during the war of 1812. We admired the pastoral scene of boats moored in the canal and beyond the placid waters of Delaware Bay and watched the Cape May - Lewes Ferry, aglow in the waning golden light of the day, slowly make it's way towards the terminal before we turned to the Agave Restaurant and Tequila Bar on Second Street. Small with limited table space, people often endure hour long waits for seating, but we got a place at the bar and had our meal there.
The lovelier half of the adventurous VFH team is not a fan of Mexican food, but I have been slowly turning her to the intricacies of this fine cuisine. It's just not mushy beans and rice and fajitas and Agave was another pleasant discovery. I had Chilies en Nogada, which are poblanos stuffed with meat, fruit and spices served on top of a creamy peanut sauce and Janet had a mango and lettuce salad with grilled shrimp. She and I were pleased, but not just with the food but also the margaritas. We watched in awe as the bartender took a long time in preparing them for us. After first chilling the glasses with ice and combing tequila and Grand Marnier he squeezed lime after lime and sweetened the concoction with agave nectar. They were large and strong and very tasty. Agave also sells "flights" of tequila and a couple of people had them lined up before them at the bar. Agave doesn't have a website though they have a page on Facebook.
After our dinner we gave a wide berth to the crowded King's Ice Cream
(www.kings-icecream.com) where people were lined up on out the door and we strolled the streets of the quiet town looking at the lovely homes before heading for our chalet in Milford. It was a good evening.
That evening we parked on 2nd Street, right in front of the old St. Peter's Episcopal Church and strolled down to Front Street and stopped to read menus and window shop and look at the Cannonball house with it's British shell still embedded in the lower wall, fired there during the war of 1812. We admired the pastoral scene of boats moored in the canal and beyond the placid waters of Delaware Bay and watched the Cape May - Lewes Ferry, aglow in the waning golden light of the day, slowly make it's way towards the terminal before we turned to the Agave Restaurant and Tequila Bar on Second Street. Small with limited table space, people often endure hour long waits for seating, but we got a place at the bar and had our meal there.
The lovelier half of the adventurous VFH team is not a fan of Mexican food, but I have been slowly turning her to the intricacies of this fine cuisine. It's just not mushy beans and rice and fajitas and Agave was another pleasant discovery. I had Chilies en Nogada, which are poblanos stuffed with meat, fruit and spices served on top of a creamy peanut sauce and Janet had a mango and lettuce salad with grilled shrimp. She and I were pleased, but not just with the food but also the margaritas. We watched in awe as the bartender took a long time in preparing them for us. After first chilling the glasses with ice and combing tequila and Grand Marnier he squeezed lime after lime and sweetened the concoction with agave nectar. They were large and strong and very tasty. Agave also sells "flights" of tequila and a couple of people had them lined up before them at the bar. Agave doesn't have a website though they have a page on Facebook.
After our dinner we gave a wide berth to the crowded King's Ice Cream
(www.kings-icecream.com) where people were lined up on out the door and we strolled the streets of the quiet town looking at the lovely homes before heading for our chalet in Milford. It was a good evening.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
beer snobs
This has been the summer of love. The winter of our discontent has been made glorious summer by the house of brews. We have been traveling through another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound, but of beer. It has been a journey into a wondrous land of imagination and hops. That's the signpost up ahead.... the next stop, the Beer Zone!
And indeed fair and lovely readers of this most devout blog to all that is cheap, drinking free beer is in a different dimension, a higher love. It is ambrosia. It is liquid manna from heaven. -
Those of you who follow this blog may recall the recent trip to Cooperstown, NY a couple of weeks ago where we sampled many many free beers at the Cooperstown Brewing Company and the Belgian styles ales of Brewery Ommegang. They were brewery tours, followed by a sampling of some or all of the beers offered by the brewery. Also in the past we have ventured into the psychedelic world of Magic Hat in Burlington, Vermont where one can linger for a long long time sipping little flutes of their concoctions.
Yes, craft brews are the rage. They are the new "wine". And today, we finally got to the Dogfish Head Brewery in Milton, Delaware. Janet and I often try to compare and contrast beers and most noteably the brewpubs attached to them. Triumph in New Hope is a favorite. But, Iron Hill in Phoenixville, Victory in Downingtown, and the Dogfish Head Brewery in Rehobeth Beach all seem to take the lead in beers and food and ambiance. Depending on our taste buds and dismal memories, or geographical perch, one outshines the other and is replaced by the third. But, as we are here for the week we have been drinking a lot of Dogfish Head and we are enamoured with the brew. We were in Rehobeth Beach yesterday after a day at Herring Point in Cape Henelopen State Park for a quick one and today we signed up for a brewery tour and the inevitable tastings at their brewery in Milton.
We had been looking forward to this event for years. One needs to sign up for the tour and it is often filled up. You cannot just show up. So, the anticipation is heightened with the wait and the lingering taste of their brews. Well when you arrive they greet you at the door with your name on a list which they mark off dutifully and hand you a pair of safety glasses. Dogfish Head says they are "off-centered for off-centered people." (http://www.dogfish.com/) They tried to evoke a whimsy and jovial way that can be engaging. Sadly we have been on brewery tours and there is always a sense of pride in the craft that shines forth, but at the Dogfish Head Brewery it all seems calculated and more in control. The bartenders at the end were not pleasant and more interested seemingly in getting us moved through the system. We had to hand in little cut out cardboard sharks used as chits for the four beers that they poured and we were not allowed to take the beer unless we handed them in. Of course, Janet and I are beer snobs and perhaps we're being snide here. Others may have had a wonderful time, but for us the whole experience was not as much fun as other brew tours. But hey, they did pour us four small cups of some different beers and we were not complaining. Evidently the pours change daily and we had the good fortune to drink in order: Saison du Buff, My Antonia, Sah'tea and the very strong 12% Palo Santo Marron which is a rarity in the bars. We were very happy with the tastes given, we just didn't like the tour.
Indeed, we are planning on returning to the brewpub in Rehobeth on Thursday when the open that week's 75 minute Johnny Cask IPA on hand pump. It is creamy and smooth and strong and they only have one barrel of it each week and when it kicks there's nothing left until the next week. Looking forward to it.
Monday, July 26, 2010
caveman coffee
When opportunity knocks you don't ask why; you just smile broadly and say 'thanks' as you grab at it with two hands. Even when that 'opportunity' comes without a coffee grinder, you figure out a way of smashing the beans without too much grousing. A plastic freezer bag, paper towels and a hammer wielded with just enough force will eventually yield the necessary product. Janet is calling it Caveman Coffee, as she giggles at me on the backporch of our friend's house in Delaware. We are watching their house and dog while they are away for the next week. There were a lot of instructions left for the dog, but no coffee grinder.
We drove down yesterday evening after watching most of a Phillies game. Tickets were courtesy of Janet's father and they were very similar to our seating arrangements earlier in the week at Yankee Stadium. The vibe is noticeably different in Philadelphia where it is more of a minor league, good natured mentality. For instance, between innings they were piping in Christmas music, as it was 5 months to the day for the next Christmas and brutally hot. On the scoreboards they were putting up pictures of the players clad in red Santa or green Elf outfits. The cameras often caught the spectators mugging and flexing their muscles for the stadium. I couldn't imagine the Yankees indulging the crowds in such a way.
Anyway, it began to rain fiercely around the 6 inning and after being lashed by wind and rain for half an hour we decided to leave to drive down the Delaware. Today we're off to the beach, probably Cape Henlopen.
thanks for reading.
We drove down yesterday evening after watching most of a Phillies game. Tickets were courtesy of Janet's father and they were very similar to our seating arrangements earlier in the week at Yankee Stadium. The vibe is noticeably different in Philadelphia where it is more of a minor league, good natured mentality. For instance, between innings they were piping in Christmas music, as it was 5 months to the day for the next Christmas and brutally hot. On the scoreboards they were putting up pictures of the players clad in red Santa or green Elf outfits. The cameras often caught the spectators mugging and flexing their muscles for the stadium. I couldn't imagine the Yankees indulging the crowds in such a way.
Anyway, it began to rain fiercely around the 6 inning and after being lashed by wind and rain for half an hour we decided to leave to drive down the Delaware. Today we're off to the beach, probably Cape Henlopen.
thanks for reading.
Friday, July 23, 2010
vacations at home
Spent the day lazily kicking around Lambertville and New Hope. We had no desire to travel far or anywhere, but mid afternoon we walked down the wooded hill that is across the street from my house just to say we did something. Truthfully whole days can ooze by while perched on this hill, locally known as Music Mountain, without knowing there's the "city" of Lambertville not far away. The backyard is secluded, the front porch looks out onto woods. If I had a pool there would be little reason to leave. I often like to sit on the front porch and watch the day saunter into evening and listen to the birds and watch the occasional bat flit overhead.
Anyway yesterday, after our New York City adventure, we decided to stay in town. We walked the trail through the woods that skirts the ridge, listening to the train whistle from the tourist line in New Hope across the river, and descended onto York Street and eventually made our way onto the bridge and the cool breezes off the water cooled our skin in the bright sunlight. South was Washington's Outlook on Goat Hill on the New Jersey side and further along after the river bends to the east was Bowman's Tower. We settled onto chairs on the patio at the Starbucks just over the river in New Hope and watched people and cars pass us as we sipped our rewards. Later my son picked us up in the Pathfinder on his way to his job at Staples and we bought salmon for dinner that we grilled with lime juice and cilantro that we ate with grilled tomatoes and a large arugala/spinach salad with pinenuts and avocado and mushrooms.
Later it was a vacation to nowhere on the blue Cape Hatteras hammock Janet bought me for my birthday a few years back and we swayed in the breeze near the now green forsythia and beneath the proud Tulip tree and were happy we were together.
Anyway yesterday, after our New York City adventure, we decided to stay in town. We walked the trail through the woods that skirts the ridge, listening to the train whistle from the tourist line in New Hope across the river, and descended onto York Street and eventually made our way onto the bridge and the cool breezes off the water cooled our skin in the bright sunlight. South was Washington's Outlook on Goat Hill on the New Jersey side and further along after the river bends to the east was Bowman's Tower. We settled onto chairs on the patio at the Starbucks just over the river in New Hope and watched people and cars pass us as we sipped our rewards. Later my son picked us up in the Pathfinder on his way to his job at Staples and we bought salmon for dinner that we grilled with lime juice and cilantro that we ate with grilled tomatoes and a large arugala/spinach salad with pinenuts and avocado and mushrooms.
Later it was a vacation to nowhere on the blue Cape Hatteras hammock Janet bought me for my birthday a few years back and we swayed in the breeze near the now green forsythia and beneath the proud Tulip tree and were happy we were together.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
....just like i pictured it
Your VFH team followed their favorite team yesterday, all the way to the Bronx. Sure, Janet SAYS she is a Phillies fan, but she knows when to jump on the Yankee Bandwagon. Truthfully though we at VFH central often have both games on simultaneously and root accordingly. This upcoming weekend we'll be down at the Phillies stadium to catch a game.Still, whatever your team affiliation, or hatred of the Yankees dynasty, going to Yankees stadium is as revered a trip as traveling to Cooperstown and the Baseball Hall of Fame. And, typical of your highly decorated VFH duo, we made it quite the occasion. We endeavor to to make each day an "event" and a mini vacation from home.
We opted for a different approach to getting to New York. Janet has often taken the ferry from Weehawken, NJ to cross the Hudson, but yesterday was the first for me. The train is a reliable means of transportation. The thought of driving all the way to NYC is prohibitive, with the wear and tear on the car and traffic and weather a major concern. But, this was a special occasion and because we left after rush hour for the 1:05 first pitch start of the game, and the typically summer slowdown of commuting, the traffic was light and we reached the ferry stop at Port Imperial fairly quickly and early enough to cash in on the cheaper parking. After 10 a.m. parking goes up an extra $2.00 to $10.00. The 10 minute trip itself was $8.50 each way, so it was slightly cheaper than going by train without the gasoline factored into the equation. But the trip itself was worth far more than the ultra efficient NJ Transit train ride. New York City rose majestically out of the Hudson, seemingly floating on the waters of the vast estuary. To the north was the George Washington Bridge, south was the Statue of Liberty with one spire of the Verrazano Narrows behind it in the far distance. The day was hot, but along the water there was a cooling breeze and a sense of promise as we awaited the ferry. We rode outside and marveled at this vast great island as the wind ruffled our hair. This was much better than the train and we sighed at our luck.
In Manhattan the Ferry company operates free shuttle buses and we took one all the way to Rockefeller Plaza. That would have been a $10 cab ride at least or a very long hot walk. You're able to get off the bus anywhere you'd like too, making this an added plus. At Rockefeller Plaza we walked around like tourists for awhile, chatted with a fellow I used to work with at NBC and eventually took the D train to 161st Street.
The old Yankee stadium is gone. I had first gone there with my Dad, who dragged half the neighborhood to a game one day decades ago. We ran around the stadium that dreary day, it was a rain out, but we really didn't care. I remember the pillars in the stands and the ornate facade. Over the years since I'd sat in every nearly every section, before and after the renovations of the 1970's. A childhood friend, Brian, and I often drove in and parked on the street and got bleacher seats for something like $1.50. The last game I went to at the old stadium was a couple of years ago, courtesy of free Maury tickets. I'm still amazed they tore down the old place, and as I stood before the new one, looking across the street at the gaping construction site, I was sad. Yet, the new Yankee stadium was clean and polished and beautiful, and it was more than a game, but an event.
Baseball always seems to evoke the child in everyone. Rather than the violence of football, it is an event, a gathering, a social occasion. There is a feeling of gaity throughout the stands and there's nothing like passing money and IDs and beers between patrons and concession employees. Even at the great heights of our seats, 6 rows from the edge in section 420a, there is an intimacy with the game and we were quite readily able to tell the Umpire his strike zone was askewed. We had purchased our tickets through Stubhub.com (http://www.stubhub.com/) when we couldn't get tickets through the Yankees website. We paid $25.00 not including varioius fees tacked on.
Before the game we went to Stan's Yankees bar on River Street. It is a New York version of Philadelphia's Chickie and Pete's, but without the Crab Fries. It was loud and packed and the scene was odd because the last time I'd been there the sky was blotted out by the EL and the stadium across the street. But since that was gone sunlight spilled in, illuminating the Yankee memorabilia. It's a great place for a beer or two before heading into the stadium.
We got to the stadium too late to tour the Monument park; they evidently need to close it to prepare for the game. No worries, we got a beer and walked the circumference of the stadium before walking forever to get to our seats 6 rows from the rim. (For Phillies fans following this blog, don't worry, nothing at Yankees Stadium replaces the food or the selection of beers you can find at your home. One stand, Beers of the World, featured Yuenglings....)
Oh yes, there was a game....the Yankees beat the Los Angeles Angels 10-6. It featured three home runs by the home team, but none by Alexander Rodriquez, A-Rod. He was stuck on 598. He should hit 600 soon, becoming the youngest major leaguer to reach that number. From our perch we had a clear view of everything, including the scoreboards and huge television in center field. I pointed out to Janet that Joe Girardi, the Yankees manager, had his number changed from 27 last year to 28 this year. Of course, last year the Yankees won their 27th championship...
Yeah, I'm a Yankees fan.
Don't worry...we'll give the Phillies their due on Sunday.
What makes your VFH team so successful is their ability to recognize serendipity when it rears its lovely head. We left our aerie after the 6th inning and decided to see if we could get seats closer to the field. Turns out the ushers guard these expensive seats zealously and as well they should. If I'm paying $1,325 in something called the Legends Suite I certainly don't want moochers like the VFH team sitting next to me! The Nazis glowered at anyone nearing the steps of the Field level seats which only went for $125 to $300 per, but Janet saw an opportunity when one lady was distracted from her post while tackling a poser and we deeked around her and watched the last three innings from great seats. I know its all a business, but there were certainly a lot of empty seats there.
After the game we decided to take the train down to Little Italy for a dinner at one of countless places on Mulberry Street. New York is fascinating as it changes dramatically within a block or two. We left the stadium, awash in pinstripes, rode a subway with humanity pressed and tired from their day, exited the subway and stepped into China with shops brimming with frogs and shark fins and crowded sideways and within a few blocks along Grand we entered a world of waiters waving us towards their menus. We ate at Da Nico and the only reason I give this place any space is because Janet and her friends had eaten here in the past and liked the food. I had Pollo Cardinale and was pleased.
We then walked up the Bowery and eventually into Greenwich Village. Before boarding the subway at 4th street we walked through Washington Square Park and watched the kids splash in the fountain on this humid night. A group of people played guitars and sang in one corner and we sat for awhile on a bench enjoying the scene.
The ride back across the Hudson was ethereal. As we slipped along the dark waters, with the lights of Manhattan dancing in the wake, we lingered in a loving embrace. Your favorite VFH team had a successful day....just like I pictured it.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
this and that .... here and there
Sorry faithful readers... We have been doing much, but relating none of it for your entertainment. Consider this analogy, offered by Janet's lovely daughter...She says that although her bedroom needs a serious cleaning, she would rather be outside and enjoying the sunshine and the company of family and friends. Such is the case with the VFH team as well... Sadly I have been lacking in my devotion to relate our travels to you, and sadly, you're probably not missing the entries!
So, I'll try to get caught up little by little.
One of the best parts of living in the historic river town of Lambertville is the Delaware River. I have been on that river countless times over my decades of life. The Water Gap was a destination for the family trundling about in the Plymouth sedan. Towns like Hancock, Calicoon and Milford and stretches of the river like the Mon Gap and Skinners Falls inspired beatific visions of the summers canoeing on the upper Delaware. There was a week long trip sponsored by Boy Scouts that featured a spontaneous double date with two girls we met while paddling. My canoe partner and I hitch hiked back upriver to the girl's campsite for a rather pleasant evening....
When my family was young and intact we would linger by the Delaware, either at Lewis Island or a bit upriver near where the Alexauken Creek joined the timeless flow of this gentle river and we'd flounce about and Duke our Golden Retriever would follow us as we'd wade in up to our chests, lazily paddling along with us.
Soon after moving to Lambertville in 1989 I made a point of purchasing a surplus Old Town Discovery 158, a cadillac sized canoe, from a canoe rental place. The fellow asked if I needed help putting it on my truck. I said 'no'. I had him help me drag it to the river and I paddled the 8 miles to l'ville on my own. When I lived just off the canal in town I would paddle the kids into town to get ice cream... we called it "canaling". My son and I often did overnights and we'd camp on Eagle Island just above Stockton, cooking our meals on flat rocks heated in the campfire.
The other week Janet and I dragged the canoe up to Bulls Island and we meandered down the river to Lambertville. It was blisteringly hot day, but the river was cool and refreshing. We took our time and even lingered by Eagle Island. Janet placed the beach chair we toted along in the water and we let a hour pass without a thought. It was all pleasant and reminiscent of lives lived and good times to yet come.
So, I'll try to get caught up little by little.
One of the best parts of living in the historic river town of Lambertville is the Delaware River. I have been on that river countless times over my decades of life. The Water Gap was a destination for the family trundling about in the Plymouth sedan. Towns like Hancock, Calicoon and Milford and stretches of the river like the Mon Gap and Skinners Falls inspired beatific visions of the summers canoeing on the upper Delaware. There was a week long trip sponsored by Boy Scouts that featured a spontaneous double date with two girls we met while paddling. My canoe partner and I hitch hiked back upriver to the girl's campsite for a rather pleasant evening....
When my family was young and intact we would linger by the Delaware, either at Lewis Island or a bit upriver near where the Alexauken Creek joined the timeless flow of this gentle river and we'd flounce about and Duke our Golden Retriever would follow us as we'd wade in up to our chests, lazily paddling along with us.
Soon after moving to Lambertville in 1989 I made a point of purchasing a surplus Old Town Discovery 158, a cadillac sized canoe, from a canoe rental place. The fellow asked if I needed help putting it on my truck. I said 'no'. I had him help me drag it to the river and I paddled the 8 miles to l'ville on my own. When I lived just off the canal in town I would paddle the kids into town to get ice cream... we called it "canaling". My son and I often did overnights and we'd camp on Eagle Island just above Stockton, cooking our meals on flat rocks heated in the campfire.
The other week Janet and I dragged the canoe up to Bulls Island and we meandered down the river to Lambertville. It was blisteringly hot day, but the river was cool and refreshing. We took our time and even lingered by Eagle Island. Janet placed the beach chair we toted along in the water and we let a hour pass without a thought. It was all pleasant and reminiscent of lives lived and good times to yet come.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Nirvana
The VFH "brew" crew just got back home from a glorious trip to Cooperstown, New York. I'd like to say that we explored this slice of Americana that is the home of the National Baseball Hall of Fame http://www.baseballhall.org/ sober and walked through the museum dizzy in awe of the legends of this great American Pastime enshrined here. I would love to say that we allowed a languid afternoon to meander towards evening as we lolled by the picturesque Lake Otsego with nothing stronger than unsweeted Iced-tea, or to take in a free game at the historic Doubleday Field with nothing more than a box of crackerjacks. Yes, we could have communed with nature at the Farmers Museum http://www.farmersmuseum.org/ or nodded in appreciation at the art of John Singer Sargent at the Fenimore Art Museum http://www.fenimoreartmuseum.org/.It could have been all clean, wholesome fun. We could have trundled down Cooperstown's Main Street with the hordes of tourists ogling the baseball memorabilia shops, perhaps to even stroll, linked arm-in-arm, down to the small bridge at one end of the town to view the source of the mighty Susquehanna River.
But....beer is a strong incentive.
As well as the World Cup.
Our first thought when we arrived in Cooperstown on Tuesday was to find where to watch the World Cup match between Netherlands and Uruguay. We made a point of leaving very early so that we could drive the 240+ miles to Cooperstown with enough time to find a decent place. Well, we were worried at first. Several exploratory phone calls to restaurants and bars in the area were not promising as our questions about the World Cup match were often met with a "huh". One bartender said they didn't like the television on, another said it's first come first serve with the viewing..... Ugh.
At least the choice of beer would not be a problem at any of the places because Brewery Ommegang, which makes wonderful Belgian style ales, is a local company and every place had at least one on tap! http://www.ommegang.com/ But like a lot of the United States these days we're pretending to like soccer during the World Cup and we had followed religiously, although we weren't close to declaring war on Ghana when USA lost to them in the knock out round. We were still interested in seeing the two matches scheduled on Tuesday and Wednesday.
We flitted from bar to bar with nothing catching our fancy until we happened upon an information booth... I asked the woman there where to find three things. 1) World Cup 2) Food & 3) Ommegang. She immediately pointed across Main Street to the Doubleday Cafe. It was a crowded, noisey place brimming with tourists, but it had a nice menu with good prices and a bar with a spectacular flat screen television and a brew from Ommegang called Rare Vos for just $4 a pint! The best part was the bartender, a cheery fellow named Juddy, and one of the patrons, who bounced in and out from his dry cleaning business around the corner, Helmut, were enthusiastic about the matches as well. It made for a delightful afternoon.
After Netherlands won we said good-byes and walked down Main Street and visited the National Baseball Hall of Fame. Your interpid (and slightly snookered) Vacations From Home teamma
tes are fans of the game and we delighted in the memorabilia and tales of the sport's history. We marveled over the pricy collectable baseball cards and uniforms set up in locker room displays and the balls collected from each no hitter hurled from 1940 onwards on one massive wall. We laughed at Abbot and Costello's timeless 'Who's On First' routine played in a loop and like dutiful altar boys at the Stations of the Cross we read nearly every bas relief plaque of the HOF enshrinees. I was particularly interested in seeing the locker room displays of the garrulous Ty Cobb and Lou Gehrig as well as Phil "Scooter" Rizzuto's plaque as I had grown up listening to him talk about canoli as he called the Yankees games on WPIX.Wednesday was much of the same, though we got it in our head to go on something called the Cooperstown Beverage Trail. http://www.cooperstownbeveragetrail.com/. Visit all four and sample some good (and bad) drink and you get a FREE beer bug (or wine glass). Use the word "free" in a sentence anywhere near the Vacations From Home team and you're sure to be trampled in the ensuing bedlam. We took our breakfast at the Fly Creek Cider Mill by sampling every possible use of apples from butter to salsa to bbq sauce, dipping fistfulls of pretzels in the concoctions and washed it all down with some Hard Apple Cider and Apple Wine. It was a hot morning and we also cashed in the coupons that gave us a free Apple slurpy or slushie... it was good. Then it was back to the Doubleday cafe for Germany / Spain and more pleasant company from Skully and Helmut as well as a husband and wife from the area who rooted for Spain. The rest of us were on the German bandwagon. Spain agonizingly neutralized the German machine though to gain the final on Sunday.
Turns out the couple were school teachers too and were both from the Kearny/Harrison area of New Jersey where I grew up and so the banter soon turned from soccer to life and after the game they took us to a pleasant restaurant/bar tucked away on a side street away from Main. The Hoffman Lane Bistro proved to be a find. http://www.hoffmanlanebistro.com/. Not only did they have several Ommegang on tap, but they were pushing 750 ml bottles of Three Philosophers beer from Ommegang at just $4.00 per; a substantial savings from the normal retail price. They had several cases leftover from a party. We brought several bottles to take home, but left them at the restaurant to keep on ice until the next day. After our school teacher friends left Janet and I then strolled through the leafy streets of Cooperstown and breathed the fresh air and pondered the plausibility of moving here. The people are friendly, the town had a bit of a spark with all the baseball and the rural country side was just around the corner.
The next day, Thursday, we had no World Cup and no baseball. It was not an empty day though. After Janet made a glorious breakfast of bacon and eggs and we sloshed it all down with strong strong strong percolated coffee we then headed out on the beverage trail again. Ignoring the caravans of vans brimming with youth baseball players headed to the Cooperstown Dream Park emblazoned with colorful signs saying things like "Cooperstown or Bust" we hustled down the base path to the Bear Pond Winery where we sampled some "interesting" wines. We split the cost of one tasting, which included 6 choices. We were afraid we would not be able to pick another six! We ended up buying a bottle of rose that we figured would be good on a hot day.
But today was beer day and we very quickly headed north to the Cooperstown Brewing Company where we were entertained by the tattooed brewmeister/mechanic/salesman, Dennis, and it changed our minds about the beer. I had tried something called "Old Slugger" at Doubleday, thinking a change from the Rare Vos of Ommegang was necessary, and thought it tasted as if there was something wrong with the tap.... Turns out Old Slugger was sluggish no matter the venue.
The rest though were very good and all featured baseball motif names. We purchased two six packs of Coopertown Brewery beer; an award winning Porter called Benchwarmer and a very strong special ale called the Pride of Milford, which features a picture of the owner in a baseball uniform on the label. It was a positive visit. We had not expected much, but were pleased.
All was forgotten when we reached Nirvana; Brewery Ommegang! Looking like a Belgian Farmhouse in the New York State countryside, Ommegang beckoned us like a safe haven from Apple wine dead ends and skunk beer. Gleaming white in the brilliant afternoon sunlight Ommegang was the real reason for our trip to Cooperstown. We have been drinking th
ese wonderful elixhirs, these Beligian style farmhouse ales and wheat beers for years and have long considered a trip to the brewery an implausible dream. But, here we were, standing before the gates like long lost children and we giddily waited for the tour and free tastings. We then bought a bottle of Ommegang, a Trappist Monk ale, and sat in the shade of an umbrella at one of the picnic tables to further extend our visit. We bought gifts and took pictures and when we finally left to swim at the campsite we were happy and satisfied and pleased we had traveled all these miles to reach this destination. We collected our decorative coasters and our Cooperstown Beverage commemorative beer mugs and drove away thinking here's another reason to buy property in Cooperstown!After enduring the cacophany of youth baseball team members cannonballing their way into the pool we dressed an
d had another Ommegang at the Blue Mingo. If you decide to go, please please please ignore the dusty parking lot and boathouse, as well as the tacky gift shop in the front. When you finally enter the bar and restaurant that literally sits on Lake Otsego you will be so enchanted that perhaps you'll alter your plans for the rest of the day. We almost did, especially since our favorite bartender, Juddy, was there having ended his shift at the Doubleday Cafe. But, in the end we stayed with our original plan for the Hoffman Lane Bistro where we capped our mini vacation with a fine meal.
Friday, June 25, 2010
anybody want a dog
Oh yeah....the damned dog looks innocent in the picture, but she is a pain in the butt.Twice, yes, twice, she ran away today! Early this morning she was wandering the aisles of the local CVS. Yes, Elliemae, the
whacked-out Tree Walking Coon Hound, was IN THE STORE. Perhaps the old lady was looking for Metamuscil? She may be old, but she's smart, because she knows I give her a cookie everytime I bring her home!
The bitch....
Tonight it happened again. I went out to Washington's Outlook which is on Goat Hill just south of Lambertville to view the Friday night fireworks, and the whole point of this particular blog entry. But, back to that later..................
I got home and looked for the dog to let her out, but she was no where to be found. Now I know she doesn't like the fireworks and when I've been home for them I noticed she cowers in the bathroom. She may not hear very well; she certainly doesn't listen very well; but she must hear the kaboom of the pyrotechnics....the bitch...
Well tonight I failed to lock the back door again and while I spent a glorious evening watching the fireworks display, the bad dog got out again. I couldn't find her in any of her favored sleeping niches. Just as I got home the phone rang and someone was saying they had her down on Main Street. It was a good thing I didn't go out for a bite to eat, or else Elliemae might have been gone forever.... the bitch....
Naw, I couldn't be that lucky. Besides, she knows I have cookies at home.
Anyway, there are three hills in Lambertville. I live on Music Mountain, aptly named for the musical venue that was once here. Then there's Connaught Hill and Cottage Hill. Cottage Hill leads to Goat Hill which is in the next town, West Amwell. On Goat Hill the city of Lambertville gives quickly
away to woods and scattered homes. Turn down an aptly named, George Washington Road, and it leads into dense woods that was once a Scout camp and then private property before being presented to New Jersey. It is now parkland and a quick hike up a winding road leads to a promontory overlooking the Delaware and the sister cities, Lambertville and New Hope. When it was private land I would sneak onto the property with Elliemae, the bitch, and hike about... Inevitably she would chase a deer or some sort of animal and I would chase after her and her howling...or is that baying? Whatever....the bitch!At the crest of this hill I settled my butt on the beach chair I dragged up and watched the hazy night approach. For a good while there was just another person sharing this view with me. He had a long lens digital camera that looked professional. We chatted a bit and then gaped at a sun that slipped from ben
eath cloud cover before finally setting over the distant rolling Pennsylvania hills. We listened to the gleeful clamor of music from far below as the towns geared up for the evening's fireworks. Eventually the promontory filled up with others awaiting the display, braving the steep, rocky road that wound up the hill.
When the fireworks finally started, all the chattering ceased as people watched the display reverently. Every booming explosion roiled across the valley, echoing in our hearts and pulling the air from our lungs. It was glorious and it was all lower than eye level. From our steep perch we looked down on the barge and the river and the hordes gathered on the bridge. We heard their cheers between the percussive thuds and when it ended everyone on the hill applauded like children. Afterw
ards people picked their way down the steep road, flashlights flitting the haphazard footfalls. We spoke in hushed tones. This was a special night...So joyous was this occasion, so filled with pride that my heart swelled with the knowledge this was home, my town, that I didn't mind the dog had gotten loose again. I was home and this was good and Elliemae's trangression was met with a hug and a cookie.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
well well well
I have been admonished by my partner in traveling. She has said that I have failed to keep up with the antics of the last weekend in this forum. True, I did not write anything of our time together, which was basically co-habiting in the nether regions of Pennsyltucky. We did celebrate her daughter's 23rd birthday by going on a pub crawl in Phoenixville, home of the movie theater featured in the B horror film, The Blob and hurt ourselves in a mat pilates class on Sunday morning. Sadly I didn't think enough of the weekend to write anything, but she wagged a finger at me and said I was slipping in my devotion to this most necessary blog. How else will our devoted readers learn what is important to see around this area that we live in, and how else will you get ideas to run around on the quick and cheap?
She's correct you know...but she's out galavanting in Hilton Head, South Carolina for a weekend that started on Wednesday. She's partying with her crones from college; there's a summer home down there...and testosterone is not allowed at this party...unless, of course, they all decide to go out to a club sometime. (I hope they don't get hernias trying to pick up guys.)
Anyway, there you have it... we of VFH central are a separate entity this weekend. I'm sure she'll have tales to relate... but right now I'm kicking back and watching the grass grow...and shooting deer with the Red Ryder bb gun if they get too close to my hostas...the evil beasts....
love to all ... except deer and squirrels...
g
She's correct you know...but she's out galavanting in Hilton Head, South Carolina for a weekend that started on Wednesday. She's partying with her crones from college; there's a summer home down there...and testosterone is not allowed at this party...unless, of course, they all decide to go out to a club sometime. (I hope they don't get hernias trying to pick up guys.)
Anyway, there you have it... we of VFH central are a separate entity this weekend. I'm sure she'll have tales to relate... but right now I'm kicking back and watching the grass grow...and shooting deer with the Red Ryder bb gun if they get too close to my hostas...the evil beasts....
love to all ... except deer and squirrels...
g
Friday, June 18, 2010
a pineapple, a coconut and a lei
Regrettably I was unable to attend this glorious event. The Bruce Wray Memorial Hawaiian Shirt Invitational Competition was held a few weeks ago and FINALLY we at VFH central got a picture to share with all those who follow this blog. You may say that this all old news that the team should have moved on to another subject, like Tiki Bars or tubing on the Delaware, or anything else, but when a competition involves such frightening displays of color and bravery by the souls who wear them, it is our duty to honor them with this picture.
The reason there was such a long delay between the event and this photograph was the judges' ruling about the leopard skin stripes on the one shirt and whether or not this qualified as an Aloha or Hawaiian Shirt. The fellow was finally awarded his lei because the shirt, while stretching the rules, was particularly hideous. The picture was finally released by the BWMHSIC Committee after much quibbling and a number of Mai Tais.
Congratulations to the winners. Somewhere Bruce Wray is sipping his own drink and chuckling lowly.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
another reason not to leave Lambertville
My fledgling family moved to Lambertville, New Jersey twenty-one years ago. We moved from northern Jersey to this idyllic river town in 1989 and for the first ten years of our residency in this historic place we lived in a home built circa 1860 and renovated circa 1979. It had thick stone walls, a mansard roof and though the house was too small for a family of four and a crazy tree walking coon hound, it was just across the street from a canal that once was used to transport coal from the Pennsylvania mines to New York City. Since 1999 I've lived on Music Mountain, aptly named for the circus tent venue that once hosted acts and shows. Though the house is modern, it is directly across the street from state protected woods. When I want to walk into town I take a trail though the woods that leads to the heart of Lambertville. Country living in the city.... It is a wonderful place to raise a family and a grand place for the Vacation From Home team.
Go to Zagat and look up the town and you're greeted with numerous choices from Thai, to French, to Italian, to Japanese. There are several cozy, romantic bars like the Swan Hotel and the Boathouse or the Inn of the Hawke, where an afternoon can languidly meander toward evening. One can spend the day strolling the town to marvel at the well kept homes or along the pastoral canal. One can ask for a taste of a River Horse beer, or two, at the brewery. The Delaware River hedges the town and scullers and canoers and fishermen all find a slice of heaven on its waters. I've lived here for 21 years so far and have remained long after my family foundered and dissipated and though conditions in my life have changed I find myself dragging my feet about a move from this town.
Interested in more ribald entertainment? There's always New Hope, Pennsylvania, directly across the river from the quiet of Lambertville. This sister city is a popular destination for all things sketchy. Bikers and gays and tourists descend on the New Hope and it's many loud, obnoxious bars and ply the many candle shops and leather goods stores for the latest in bustiers. Gay pride week is rather popular and though I've never visited New Hope during the annual DRAG RACES, I understand it's a stilletto heel about ready to snap.
The two cities are such a contrast that it's shocking to imagine they can do anything together. But, this summer, they've started Friday Night Fireworks; a perfect destination for your favorite Vacations From Home team. Jointly held by the two cities it brings a lot of people into the towns and we decided to linger this past Friday to view them. The free bridge as well as both riverbanks are crowded with gawkers. The wing dam, south of the bridge about 3/4 of mile had people viewing from there (my son said that's where he was going) and from our perch on the bridge we could see flashlights on the Washington's Outlook on Goat Hill which has a spectacular view of the river and both towns.
Fireworks were set off from a barge in the middle of the river. The night sky was clear and there was a steady breeze from the south that billowed the gunsmoke in our direction. We ooed and aahed with the crowds and we watched honorary members of the VFH team, Janet's daughter and her fiance, embrace throughout the show. He is from England and had never experienced such an American event. We were thrilled to have him.
Yes, Lambertville is a great place to visit and a hard place to leave. If you're ever interested in coming down to see it yourself, the door is always open. I never tire of showing off this happy little place.
The rest of the weekend was spent in the opposite end of the spectrum. With the World Cup starting this weekend the swelled version of the VFH team trundled to the Trappe Tavern, which is near Collegeville, PA, to sit on their outdoor deck to watch England play the USA. A gimme goal sealed the "win" for USA, which actually ended in a draw 1-1. Our honorary international member of VFH, Adam, did not grouse or complain and took all the good natured jibbing well.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
who dat?
Some things never change....thankfully.
Your favorite explorers of all endeavors that are cheap or free got a little selfish this past weekend and indulged themselves. The world famous Vacations From Home team made their yearly trek to the Crawfish Festival at the Sussex County Fairgrounds in Augusta, NJ. This is the fifth year for your illustrious team to nibble on all kinds of God's critters, Cajun style, and to dance & boogie to swamp pop and jazz music. This year though was a tough decision. Sadly, the Crawfish festival is not cheap, especially in today's economy. At $40 per person just for the right to enter the grounds which did not cover food and drink, both very very necessary ingredients to the day, the cost was nearly prohibitive and it was a calculated risk. Even if the VFH team were flush with cash, the cost of the day runs counter to its credo to mooch and slouch its way through the summer and to pass on to you fair and wonderful readers of this blog all the sordid details so you may also enjoy on the quick. But, this event this Crawfish Festival now in its 21st year and held the first weekend of June is a must for us and we took a deep breath, counted out our money and then drove to the upper regions of New Jersey. It proved to be the best year.
Truthfully it is worth every penny.
After 5 fesitvals we are already seasoned travelers to this event though we neither camp, nor set up party tents as many other long time visitors. Each year we marvel at these people who spend the weekend and decorate their tents with beads and other trinkets and set up elaborate displays and carry poles adorned with masks and and feather boas, and then happily settle our butts down in lawn chairs near the main stage (and a beer station) to gather in the music and the people festooned in hats and garb as well as a great number of Bruce Wray worthy Aloha shirts. Each year we say we're going to camp, each year we say we're bringing a "posse" (to get a group rate) and each year we roll our eyes and sip our beer.
After we pick our spot we get food. First it's a carton of crawfish boil. Janet had never eaten a crawfish before she started coming here and now she can suck the head and pinch the tail like a regular old coon ass. Then red beans and rice and alligator sausage. We stopped here at this point, though in years past we would eat far too much and we couldn't walk back to the car! But there are other delectable items on the menu: etoufee, crawfish pie, boudin links, oyster po-boys, shrimp creole, beignets and Jambalaya. But, because of the BP oil spill off the Louisiana coast there were no fresh oysters available. Evidently all the crawfish are farm raised and out of harm's way, that is until they get to the boiling pot!
The food is very good. You watch the people cooking the stuff in the back and you think it's just a mix of some sort. Well, a couple of years ago at one of these stands we met the head chef of a restaurant in Lafayette, Louisiana. He was making sure all the Jambalaya was cooking to order. He gave us his card when we told him we were traveling to Louisiana that summer and we had the best meals at Prejean's. We actually drove out of our way on the way back from Lake Charles just so we could eat a lunch there. The food was excellent. If you'd like to read about that particular trip you can always go to http://cajuncountrytravels.blogspot.com/.
That was back in the day when the Vacations From Home team was flush with cash and able to go to exotic locales. The crawfish festival is not exotic, but it is a must event....we just have to figure out how to sneak in next year...
http://www.crawfishfest.com/
After the food and a couple of beers we were ready to shed our dignity. We danced to Jeffery Broussard and the Creole Cowboys at the dance hall. There is a definite way of dancing to cajun music, whether it's a waltz or a two-step and well, we limped and boogied and sweated and laughed at ourselves and then sat and marveled at how beautifully some of the people danced to a band that featured an accordian player with a cowboy hat and a "spoon guy", someone who wears a washboard over his shoulders and strums at it with spoons. Then we bopped over to the Jaegermeister hall to weave precariously to the Dirty Dozen Brass Band and Janet flirted with the Sax player in a feeble ploy to score beads....women....
Evidently they have dance lessons from 11-12. Janet and I say the same thing every year, that we'll get there early enough...then we sip our beers and roll our eyes.
The main act for the day on the main stage was Taj Mahal. I was mildly interested because that's a big name in music, although we really liked Amanda Shaw and the Cute Guys. Shaw plays a mean fiddle, but Taj Mahal didn't hold our interest and we danced a whole lot with the Dirty Dozen Brass Band.
Thanks for reading, hope you put this event on your calender for next year.
If anyone has any suggestions for a VFH sojurn please pass such information on to us... Or if you want to invite us over to your house for dinner, especially if you have a pool or beach house, feel free to consider our names for the guest list. .... that's not mooching...is it?
love,
greg
Your favorite explorers of all endeavors that are cheap or free got a little selfish this past weekend and indulged themselves. The world famous Vacations From Home team made their yearly trek to the Crawfish Festival at the Sussex County Fairgrounds in Augusta, NJ. This is the fifth year for your illustrious team to nibble on all kinds of God's critters, Cajun style, and to dance & boogie to swamp pop and jazz music. This year though was a tough decision. Sadly, the Crawfish festival is not cheap, especially in today's economy. At $40 per person just for the right to enter the grounds which did not cover food and drink, both very very necessary ingredients to the day, the cost was nearly prohibitive and it was a calculated risk. Even if the VFH team were flush with cash, the cost of the day runs counter to its credo to mooch and slouch its way through the summer and to pass on to you fair and wonderful readers of this blog all the sordid details so you may also enjoy on the quick. But, this event this Crawfish Festival now in its 21st year and held the first weekend of June is a must for us and we took a deep breath, counted out our money and then drove to the upper regions of New Jersey. It proved to be the best year.
Truthfully it is worth every penny.
After 5 fesitvals we are already seasoned travelers to this event though we neither camp, nor set up party tents as many other long time visitors. Each year we marvel at these people who spend the weekend and decorate their tents with beads and other trinkets and set up elaborate displays and carry poles adorned with masks and and feather boas, and then happily settle our butts down in lawn chairs near the main stage (and a beer station) to gather in the music and the people festooned in hats and garb as well as a great number of Bruce Wray worthy Aloha shirts. Each year we say we're going to camp, each year we say we're bringing a "posse" (to get a group rate) and each year we roll our eyes and sip our beer.
After we pick our spot we get food. First it's a carton of crawfish boil. Janet had never eaten a crawfish before she started coming here and now she can suck the head and pinch the tail like a regular old coon ass. Then red beans and rice and alligator sausage. We stopped here at this point, though in years past we would eat far too much and we couldn't walk back to the car! But there are other delectable items on the menu: etoufee, crawfish pie, boudin links, oyster po-boys, shrimp creole, beignets and Jambalaya. But, because of the BP oil spill off the Louisiana coast there were no fresh oysters available. Evidently all the crawfish are farm raised and out of harm's way, that is until they get to the boiling pot!
The food is very good. You watch the people cooking the stuff in the back and you think it's just a mix of some sort. Well, a couple of years ago at one of these stands we met the head chef of a restaurant in Lafayette, Louisiana. He was making sure all the Jambalaya was cooking to order. He gave us his card when we told him we were traveling to Louisiana that summer and we had the best meals at Prejean's. We actually drove out of our way on the way back from Lake Charles just so we could eat a lunch there. The food was excellent. If you'd like to read about that particular trip you can always go to http://cajuncountrytravels.blogspot.com/.
That was back in the day when the Vacations From Home team was flush with cash and able to go to exotic locales. The crawfish festival is not exotic, but it is a must event....we just have to figure out how to sneak in next year...
http://www.crawfishfest.com/
After the food and a couple of beers we were ready to shed our dignity. We danced to Jeffery Broussard and the Creole Cowboys at the dance hall. There is a definite way of dancing to cajun music, whether it's a waltz or a two-step and well, we limped and boogied and sweated and laughed at ourselves and then sat and marveled at how beautifully some of the people danced to a band that featured an accordian player with a cowboy hat and a "spoon guy", someone who wears a washboard over his shoulders and strums at it with spoons. Then we bopped over to the Jaegermeister hall to weave precariously to the Dirty Dozen Brass Band and Janet flirted with the Sax player in a feeble ploy to score beads....women....
Evidently they have dance lessons from 11-12. Janet and I say the same thing every year, that we'll get there early enough...then we sip our beers and roll our eyes.
The main act for the day on the main stage was Taj Mahal. I was mildly interested because that's a big name in music, although we really liked Amanda Shaw and the Cute Guys. Shaw plays a mean fiddle, but Taj Mahal didn't hold our interest and we danced a whole lot with the Dirty Dozen Brass Band.
Thanks for reading, hope you put this event on your calender for next year.
If anyone has any suggestions for a VFH sojurn please pass such information on to us... Or if you want to invite us over to your house for dinner, especially if you have a pool or beach house, feel free to consider our names for the guest list. .... that's not mooching...is it?
love,
greg
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
