Tonelli's Travels

Before turning onto 385 for the last leg of the journey, I stopped for gas at the last rest stop for — miles. A friendly gentleman waved at me from the store window as I cleaned my windshield and I popped inside to use the bathroom. On the walls we’re giant maps filled with a rainbow of pins, marking the homes of past visitors. For a place so remote, so hard to get to, Big Bend has welcomed a huge variety of visitors – from Africa to Canada to Italy and every corner of the US. It makes me happy to know so many people love our national parks and get out to see them.

Back in the van, I turned the corner and started down the long and straight stretch of road. The mountains loomed in the distance, but vast desert lay before them. 127 miles, then 96, then 58, I creeped closer and closer. Then finally, the big sign! I had arrived!

I stopped at Persimmon Gap visitor center, the first building I had seen since the gas station. When they say Big Bend is remote, they mean it. Hal gave me maps and answered all the questions and sent me down Dagger Flat Auto Road to see if any of the giant yucca were still blooming. While they were not, there wasn’t a soul around, so I pulled over for a quiet (yet hot!) lunch and admired the view of endless mountains before me.

Although there weren’t any yucca blooming, there were plenty of other wildflowers painting the desert landscape, adding pops of color all around. My favorite quickly became the Ocotillo plant, a scraggly spiny collection of sticks ascending from the sandy earth, sprouting little green leaves in some places and brilliant, almost glowing, red flowers at the tips. Oh, they took my breath away that first time and every time since. The prickly pears were a close second favorite, bursting with pink and peach buds that turned buttery yellow when blooming. The false pitaya were also pretty neat, adding some magenta to the floor. The desert is more full of life than we think.

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I had to pull myself away from the succulents to continue on to the campground, but I knew I’d spy more later. Next I stopped at the Fossil Discovery Exhibit and learned that Texas was once under water, millions of years ago, and then a marshy swamp before turning into a dessert. This particular part of Texas is a prime location for fossil hunting and the only know location of some ancient creatures like the Bravoceratops.

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After my geological lesson for the day, I continued on to Dug Out Wells. You are driving along, everything looking spiky, dry, and a bit dusty, then you come upon this lush jungle like area. That means water! Dug Out Wells is a natural spring area, creating the perfect environment for cottonwoods and ferny green bushes and animals and birds that need their protection. A walk through the nature trail felt like I had tele-transported to another land. The desert keeps surprising me.

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Shortly I continued on, needing to get to my campsite for dinner. I stopped at a few lookouts, catching my first glimpse of the Rio Grande and the town of Boquillas on the Mexican side. When looking out, all the land looks the same. Borders seem arbitrary and nonexistent, and it reminds me that we are all people sharing this land. We are all humans.

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Right after that moment of reflection, I rolled into the campground, ready to settle in for the night. The location wasn’t anything special, really just a parking lot, but it would give me access to 800,000 acres of protected land to explore over the next several days.

And okay, you probably know me well enough by now, I couldn’t sit still long. The days stretch on, light until 8:30, 9PM. And with highs of 90s and 100s during the day, the heat takes a while to dissipate. So after dinner, I walked over to the Rio Grande Nature Trail and climbed up to the lookout to watch sunset.

Along my walk, hand crafted figurines and cloth items popped up in clusters here and there. A few at the foot of the bridge, a few more at the turn to the lookout, several more at the summit. Each with a sign and donation can. Goods made by the people in Boquillas, Mexico, for sale as a way to support their family and community. With the border crossing attraction in the park closed due to COVID, the community is suffering and struggling to find ways to make a living. So they take a risk, walk or paddle across the Rio, and leave their creations for people to buy. Then they come back that evening and collect their earnings. I didn’t have any cash that night, but I made a note to come back. Like I said before, we are all humans and need to help each other out. At least I believe so.

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After watching the sunset set, and meeting Regina, we walked back together to the campground like old friends. We missed the javelinas down by the shore, but I wasn’t too sad about it. I heard they were smelly. Haha

And with that, my day was full – very full – and I settled in for a night of rest.

In the course of four days I drove from Pelham, Alabama straight across Texas to Big Bend National Park on the western most side. Golly, was I tired after that! Multiple days of 300+ mile drives are draining, soaking up a lot of mental energy and working those shoulder muscles. I am content to sit still for a few days and enjoy the dessert. But first, let me catch you up on my drive. 

My first time in any of these southern states, I’ve observed quiet differences and been reminded that you can find beauty, in both land and humans, everywhere you go. Here are some of my noticings so far:

• In southern states, when people ask, “How are you?”, they really want to know. People passing by don’t just spit it out like a rehearsed phrase and continue moving, they slow down, make eye contact, and wait for a reply. Often this can turn into a lovey unexpected conversation with a stranger. It confused me at first, but I’m learning to love it. 

• Baptist and Methodist churches are plentiful, one in every neighbor and sometime multiple within a few blocks of each other. 

• Schools are often right off of a main drag, usually along a state highway!

• People live off of busy roads too, not just farmers and ranchers, but regular houses. 

• A half full gas tank is a half empty gas tank. Stay vigilant because gas stations can be far apart!

My pit stop in Louisiana brought me to the lovely Landry Vineyards, where I sampled some more Muscadine wine and enjoyed a glass of their house specialty before the bar closed for the night. I stayed in the parking lot as a Harvest Host guest and dined on the patio overlooking the grapes. A friendly couple from California kept me company and I had a quiet, safe night.

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Next, I drove straight on into Texas and stopped outside town at Midway Campground on Lake Waco. While I had a beautiful view with the lake behind my van, it was windy and noisy. We were right off the highway and the bridge across the lake was in clear view at the far end. If you just focused on the scenery, it was lovely. I tried to do just that, watching the heron scout the shallow shores for dinner and the sun dip below the distant tree-line, a fiery orange ball. Ear plugs helped me get a good night sleep, and I was off again the next day for Iraan, TX.

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I wasn’t expecting much as I headed to Iraan. I veered off I-20 and onto 190 for some peace and was rewarded with long stretches of ranch land. Texas is surprisingly green with vast pastures and sprawling scrub bushes and cottonwood trees. Pecan farms breakup the wild growth with their precise rows and neatly trimmed branches. At times as I drove, I was alone for miles, but eventually there was a truck or small town to pass by. I stopped at the tiniest post office in Rochelle, TX, a one room establishment for locals to drop off and pickup mail. I wonder how long it takes mail to get delivered from there? Surprisingly the miles passed quickly, I do enjoy the quiet, and I rolled into the sleepy town of Iraan, curious about that name.

The city park was my boondocking spot for the tonight, and as I drove down the street to get there I passed an interesting attraction: Alley Oop Fantasy Land. It had seen better days, the sign faded and worn, but still caught my eye. After dinner, I strolled over to investigate and found an odd collection of items: a windmill blade, a oil tower and drill, a giant dinosaur, a caveman, and a small museum of native artifacts.  I stared curiously at the mismatch of attractions, confused at how this all came to be. And why here, in Iraan? Anyone else as confused as me? Or maybe this all makes sense to you, as it did to my mom. 

I walked out the front gate and spied a plaque, welcoming visitors to the park. Here’s what I learned. This city is named Iraan after Ira and Ann Yates struck oil in 1926 and later donated the land as a town. Hence the oil tower and drill. What about the rest? Well, cartoonist V.T. Hamelin lived here in the 1920s as well and created the comic strip Alley Oop – my mom said she read that growing up! Alley Oop was a caveman, the star of the comic strip, and he had a pet dinosaur named Dinny, hence the caveman and dinosaur. It all makes so much sense now, kind of. In 1965, the city wanted a tourist attraction and Hamelin gave them the rights to his characters and Marathon Oil Company donated the land. So there you have it! It’s unclear to me if Fantasy Land is still operating, but the rest of the park behind it is full of baseball fields, basketball courts, and running paths for locals. A pretty neat find. Have you ever read Alley Oop? There’s even a theme song on YouTube.

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After that unexpected adventure, I spent a quiet night in the park and set off early for Big Bend. The drive was quiet, and sometimes I didn’t pass anyone for miles. At one point I was the only car on the road for ten miles, but I welcomed the calm knowing excitement lay ahead. More on that next time!

After leaving The Garrett’s in the Carolinas, I continued south to Alabama to reunite with more family. As I rode smoothly down I-85, I crossed into the native land of the Muscogee (Creek), a nation best know for their Mound cities across the current southern states. The Muscogee were supportive people, welcoming smaller tribes and individuals into their confederacy as European contact harmed the natives. However, they continue to survive today and work tirelessly to preserve their culture and language. Today their land is one of rolling hills and distant mountains, tree lined highways, cities, and suburbs. The 380 miles passed by quickly.

My destination was my cousin Sarah’s home, someone I haven’t seen in years! After navigating some steep hills and seemingly never-ending stop signs, I made it to her house at the back of the neighborhood. A doorbell ring later, I was greeted with warm hugs and smiles, first by my Aunt Terri, then by Sarah, and finally by her son Grant. My first time every meeting Grant!

While he was shy at first, as most almost three year olds are, a few spins around the kitchen and tickles later we were best friends. He quickly took me by the hand and introduced me to all his toy cars and trucks.

Sarah, Aunt Terri, and I spent the evening catching up at the counter and over dinner. It’s always nice to know that there are people in your life who you can pick right up with even after significant time has passed.

We continued chatting the next day on our walk around the community, while playing soccer and baseball with Grant, while soaking up the sun in camping chairs, and over another delicious meal by Sarah. It was nice to hang out, relax, and enjoy each other’s company.

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Sarah told me all her stories of adjusting to Alabama life after growing up in Pennsylvania. The ants that invaded her house, crawled up and down the walls and in and out of cabinets, definitely left me itchy! Or the tales of silverfish that burrow into cardboard – yuck! At least knowing that helped make her husband get rid of some boxes in the garage! Armadillos run across her lawn to the golf course in back and copperheads live down in the ditch. While Alabama was pretty to look at, and I appreciated the warm sun, I think I’ll stick to New England thanks.

The next morning I had to say goodbye, but as always it’s really a “see you later.” And next time might be a lot closer as her husband is taking on a new role in the Air Force. Come on up north!

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Set on the North Carolina/South Carolina border, my next stop was Hidden Springs Farm in Rutherfordton, NC, native land of the Tsalaguwetiyi, or Eastern Cherokee. These sprawling acres below to my cousins, The Garretts, and bring back fond memories of childhood family vacations. The scenery was beautiful, the weather perfect, animal snuggles welcome, and the hugs from Jeanne and Terry the best! I came for two nights and stayed for three, the company was that good.

From their back porch, you overlook the recently cleared acreage that connects to the farms down the street and around the corner. Rolling hills lead down to a stream, and then back up to the chicken barns and pastures that their son, Greg, now owns and manages. It is an oasis in rural North Carolina, quiet and peaceful.

My first night we enjoyed dinner together, chicken and sweet potatoes, mmmm mmmmm, and then drove over to the farm to visit Adah (their oldest) and her husband Jeremy and their bunch. With six girls and a female cat, Jeremy certainly is outnumbered! The oldest were friendly and chatty while the youngest were hesitant but curious. They were most intrigued by this talk of a “camper van” and I invited them over the next day to explore.

That night was an early one, after a long day of hiking and travel, but not before evening chats over Carolina Red Muscadine Wine at the homestead. If you’ve never tried it, go find yourself a bottle. It’s sweet and smooth, perfect for an evening treat. Maxine (the cat) and Blackie (the dog) tucked me into bed and kept me company as I drifted off to sleep.

The next day brought visits from Greg for tours of Sunny the Solis, lunchtime chats, walks across the river, watering the goats, donkeys, and cows, all before mid-afternoon. Adah and the girls came over after school, eager to investigate this strange thing called a camper van. While tentative at first, once I popped the top to reveal the hidden bed, curiosity took over and up and down the ladder the girls climbed. Back and forth to the big bed in the back, checking out the stuffed animals and cabinets. In and out of the camper they went. It was like a giant jungle gym to them, and a workout for myself and the older girls who lifted them down from the pop-up. It was heart-warming to see them so excited, so adventurous, so curious. Even one of the twins, who I’m told is very stand-offish, let me lift her up. Win!

Before they left, I had to show them videos of the guinea pigs. While Timmy, Tommy, and Chester can’t be with me (they are with my parents), I still tell stories of them all the time! Chester was a fan favorite with his bedhead. And it seems my love of guinea pigs and pigs (of which I have many around the van), rubbed off on E. The next day she bought two little piggie stuffed animals for her sisters’ upcoming birthday. I felt honored.

Jeanne and I capped off the day with some soccer watching while Greg coached and one of his son’s practiced. While a bit windy, the sun stuck around long enough for us to see some developing defensive skills and corner kicks. Watching soccer always makes me want to jump on the field, so who knows, maybe a return to the game is in my future! I helped Greg confirm the rules of offside (always a tricky one!) before Jeanne and I snuck out meet Greg’s other children, and then to get ice cream at Brusters. If you are ever near one, definitely stop. The Peanut Butter with Reeses Cups did not disappoint!

While I had planned to leave the next day, I was having too much fun to hit the road. Instead, Jeanne and I ventured to Spindale to walk the newly paved rail trail. Perfect spring weather, I was glad to be in North Carolina and not New England where snow was covering the ground. Sorry northern friends! I do hope it is all melted now. The walk was refreshing and I counted the Baptist churches we passed in just a few miles. This is definitely the Bible Belt! Methodist churches and Evangelical churches are abundant too, all often lovely brick buildings with large white pillars.

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Back at the car, lunch was calling our name and we headed to Mi Pueblito for tasty fajitas on the patio. After the chicken, veggies, and chips with queso dip, we were full and content. A car ride down the rural roads, completing a few errands on the way, landed us back at the house.

While not hungry, we decided to make almond pancakes from Adah’s recipe. The first patch was an experiment – a little too thick and slightly burnt on one side, but still tasty. The next batch lighter in color but still not liquidy enough. The final patch perfect, with a few walnuts mixed into jazz them up.

Then we hurried over to the farm to pick up the oldest girls so they could join their cousin to prepare for the Magnolia Ball. Two teenagers, a puppy, and two adults in a sedan makes for an interesting ride! The girls managed Joey in the back while I balanced the trays of carefully prepared cheesecake cups in the front. Everyone and everything made it successfully, thank goodness!

They girls all looked lovely in their dresses and Jeanne and I stayed long enough to snap a few pictures before heading home to rest. Gosh, were we tired! An evening of TV, salads, and early bed times sounded perfect. KC kept me company they night, a warm snuggler behind my back.

Sadly the next morning I had to depart, more miles to drive on my way to Big Bend. We filled the water tank, washed off the bugs, exchanged hugs, and said goodbyes. I will definitely be back!

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The first leg of my trip has taken me down the coast, through Virginia, and to the North Carolina/South Carolina border. Temperatures have slowly rose, making for mild nights and pleasant days. Spring is awakening here, and no snow in sight (sorry New England!). The highways are lined by trees in various greens with pops of purple from Redbud trees. Driving has been smooth and steady so far.

My first night I stopped to visit family in New Jersey. Liz is my great uncle’s niece and has become a good friend of mine over the last few years through letters. She’s my pen pal who supports and encourages me from afar. Despite the rain and chilly temperatures, we enjoyed our time together. We caught up over hot tea, a good meal overlooking the lake, and a brisk walk around a local state park. It was a great way to begin my trip.

Virginia was my next stop, right outside of Shenandoah National Park. I stayed at a Cracker Barrel, my go-to free campsite when no planned destination is in mind. Always clean, quiet, and safe feeling, Sunny and I like them very much. Plus, we always seem to find a scenic spot to park. Lucky I guess!

The next day I had to put miles behind me, but I couldn’t pass by Shenandoah National Park without sampling a little bit of the beauty. I popped on Skyline drive about halfway through the park and was treated to a quiet ride on the mountain ridge. With hardly anyone around, I could drive slowly and soak up the Appalachian Mountains around me. While the valley was brilliant green, the mountain tops were still a sea of brown. Tiny buds gave flecks of green here and there, but life was still slowly reemerging at elevation. The quiet and sun kept begging me to get out and enjoy it, so I did manage a short hike up Turk Mountain at mile 94. All alone on the trail on the way up, I relished the peace and calm. I hustled my way to the top (not sure why, maybe for the challenge of it?) and then sat down to enjoy lunch on a rock outcropping. Birds road the current above me, gliding up and down with ease. I crunched on snap peas while admiring the view, then headed down for the rest of the drive. A few fellow hikers greeted me on the descent, but again it was largely quiet. I did slow down this time to admire the emerging life around me, spotting Johnny Jump-Ups, dandelions, and buttercups springing up from under the dried leaves. Two and a half miles later, sweaty because I was over dressed, I was happy and ready for a few hundred more miles of driving!

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That night I made it to Cracker Barrel number two, this time in Wytheville, Virginia. Up on a hilltop, I had another great view of the mountains around me, glowing blue in the distance. Wytheville is close to Grayson Highlands State Park, which is why I stopped here – another great recommendation from my dad. Grayson Highlands State Park is located in rural Virginia, in the southwestern corner, and is home to a herd of feral ponies! Of course I had to try to see them.

Wednesday morning I headed to the park early, about an hour away. After driving up and down narrow, snaking roads through farmland and Christmas tree fields, I arrived at the park. It was quiet again (my favorite) and I was one of few cars in the lot. I laced up, grabbed my bag, and headed for the trail with high hopes.

My route took me out on part of the Appalachian Trail and I passed a few through-hikers making their way to their next destination. Eventually though, I veered off and onto another trail, hoping the path less travelled would invite some ponies to wander my way. The scenery was majestic, golden fields meeting evergreen covered mountains in the distance, rock hills to boulder over every few hundred feet, winds gusting in the open spaces, but no ponies. I stopped for a snack midway, climbing out to a rocky point for an unobstructed view. I still had hope for ponies, but tried to just appreciate the ability to be outside, traveling, surrounded by beauty.

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On the way back, my intuition told me to veer off the planned route, and I trekked through some brambles and grassy paths to Springs Trail, which would eventually loop me back to the start. Walking quietly along, hopping over streams of water bubbling up from the earth and trickling downhill, I look eagerly left and right for the elusive ponies. Then, all of the sudden, I saw movement in the marshy area to the left. A small herd of ponies! Tan, white and brown, black, they lazily chomped on the grass and shrubbery all around. I took a few steps closer and they titled their heads to look, but didn’t seem to startle. So I stepped a little closer to snap a few photos. They were good models until they had enough, and then snorted and pranced deeper into the trees. One practically brushed right by me!

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Elated and mission fulfilled, I continued down the trail. Almost back, I was surprised by another herd at the trail intersection! Bonus! Another young woman and I enjoyed their company, taking pictures from afar. That is, until I unzipped my backpack for a snack and my tan friend stomped over, hoping for a treat! I slowly backed away, trying to respect their space and reclaim mine. Once it noticed I wasn’t going to share, it went back to gnawing on grass. Later, another horse tried the same, but when I backed away with my bag, it slobbered on my camera left on the ground! No thank you! But quiet funny nonetheless.

Eventually I continued on, after admiring their flowing manes and fuzzy hair. Just around the bend, there was another herd though! Resting for the afternoon, they were laying down in the pasture. Just as comfortable as the last, they approached visitors looking for a handout, but I moved on before they could bother me again. The last few hundred feet back, I couldn’t believe how my luck had changed – no horses on the way out but several groups on the way in! A wonderful, full day.

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Back at the car, content and full, I ate lunch and then hit the road for North Carolina. Visits with more family were on the horizon.

This winter was full of weekend hikes with friends and weekday runs down the slopes. I was fortunate to ski almost every week starting in January, enjoying the fresh air and glittery snow. Getting outside was my saving grace this winter. Vermont, New Hampshire, and Maine provided lots of activity and fun with my family.

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The new year has brought vaccines (yay!) and new plans for travel. So I am on the road again, traveling south and west this time, for one more cross country adventure before returning to the classroom in August. It has also brought lots of reflection, which has led me to a new classroom experience. This fall, I will be a Vermont resident and teaching at Morristown Elementary School! In the last two weeks I have earned a new job, moved out of my apartment, and hit the road. For someone who doesn’t love change, I have certainly embraced a lot of it recently! I am leaning into the discomfort.

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Each decision and change has been challenging, well thought out, and discussed. While exciting, each change also means a loss. So while I am looking forward to what the future holds, part of me is also grieving the losses, like leaving my work family at Memorial School. Medway will always be an important chapter in my life and I am confident many of those relationships will endure. There will always be an open invitation to visit me in Vermont.

To keep myself busy, and not dwell too much on all the change, I am traveling again. There is so much to see and learn. My travels this time will take me towards Texas, with Big Bend National Park as my first major destination. Along the way I plan to visit family and enjoy the warmer temperatures (sorry New Englanders!). I hope you enjoy following along again – I’ll enjoy the company on my solo trip.

Hello Everyone! I’ve been resting and recharging in Massachusetts since my last post, and will likely stay here for the remainder of the winter. While the pandemic continues to rear its ugly head all around us, I decided it was best to stay close to home for my health and the health of others. The van is repaired, winterized, and covered for any snow. However, I haven’t stayed still! I have found safe, low risk ways to continue to get outside and spend time with others. As we enjoy the December holidays, and hopefully all find new ways to recharge and responsibly connect with loved ones, here is an update with some pictures and stories to entertain you.

On November first, after our first snow dusting of the season, I set out for the Massachusetts/New Hampshire border to summit Mount Watatic. A 1,832 mountain on the land of the Pennacook and Wabanaki Confederacy, the view from the top gives a 360 degree view of the valley below. I planned to hike from the main trailhead, and slowly loop around and up, but the parking lot was full, so I found myself down the road at the base of the boulder covered trail that was a straight shot to the top. Up I went! Rocks covered in leaves provided an added challenge, but a slow and steady pace with multiple breaks was the perfect combination. The top was cold and windy, but that meant hardly anyone was around – just the way I like it! Snow and ice dotted the top and surrounding trails, so I put on my microspikes and wandered the root covered trails. After summiting the mountain again, I cautiously climbed down the path to the car, zig-zagging back and forth across the rocks. Mount Watatic isn’t a massive mountain, but this was my first solo climb and it felt pretty darn awesome!

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A few quick days later, I was in Western Massachusetts with my parents and sister to celebrate her 30th birthday. We spent part of the day walking the trail around Whiting Reservoir in Holyoke, MA, on the land of the Nipmuc and Pocumtuc. It’s a well marked, wide, easy path for anyone looking to get outside to stretch their legs. It was a windy, cold day and the sun did little to keep us warm, but lingering fall colors and tiny snails on the shores kept us distracted for the 3 mile loop.

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November also brought a hike up Wachusett Mountain, part of the land of the Wabanaki Confederacy. This mountain is lovely, and easily accessible with many trail choices, and also very popular. Now that snow has fallen and ski season is upon us, hikers up the backside of the mountain will probably find much more solitude. On the weekend that Kristi and I hiked, most of the ascent was calm and peaceful, allowing for good conversation as we wove through the forest around the base of the mountain. The summit was a different story, packed with hikers of all ages and several large groups of college students. This is definitely a location I would recommend doing early on a weekend morning, or during the week instead (if possible). We weren’t too keen on the crowds, so we climbed down the bare slopes a ways and found a secluded place to sit and eat lunch. During our rest, we received the best news of 2020 – Joe Biden is the president-elect and Kamala Harris is the vice-president elect! An immediate sense of relief and joy rushed over us. What a great day to be alive! The news put some pep in our step as we freely ran down the mountain slopes to our trail. We got a little off track and had to bushwhack through the forest, but nothing could keep us down on November 7th! A few more spectacular views and we arrived back at the car with tremendous smiles.

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A few days later, the brilliant sunshine urged me to get outside again, and I found myself in Holliston/Medway in Wenakeening Woods. This is a great place to walk for any of my Medway followers! I entered off of Summer Street in Holliston, but you can also access it from Idylbrook Fields, Highland Street, or off of the rail trail. Well marked and maintained trails lead you through the forest, past streams and ponds. Red berries lingered on branches and green mushrooms hung to trees. It was a surprisingly warm November day in shorts and a t-shirt and I took full advantage!

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In mid-November, since the snow from late October had melted, my dad and I decided to go for our yearly hike up Mount Monadnock. What started off as a cool, refreshing day on Wabanaki Confedercy land, quickly turned frigid and uncomfortable as we reach the summit. The sun that was promised never appeared, and the wind at the top of the rock covered, tree barren mountain was fierce. We tried to find shelter to enjoy the view, but a few minutes of sitting left us chilled and racing to find the trail down! We mustered enough warmth for a few quick photos and shot off the summit to find a place to eat lunch lower down. Thank goodness for extra layers and hot pack hand warmers! Despite the cold, and lack of sunshine, we did enjoy our hike, especially the traversing across the mountain through tree protected trails along moss and pine needle covered trails. The movement brought much needed life back to our limbs. 😉

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A few weeks later, back on Nimpuc and Pocumtuc land at my parents’ home, we prepared for Thanksgiving with homemade raviolis. A family affair, of which I was in charge for the first time (yikes!), went well and we proudly made 96 little pockets of love for our meal. My sister said we would have made my great aunt proud and our guest, Bill, said they were delicious. Maybe someday I’ll be able to make them and share them with you! The following day, despite gray skies and damp ground, I joined my day on a post-feast hike up Mount Tom. Practically in our backyard, Mount Tom brings me fond memories of learning to ski in winters and ride waves and steep waterslides in the summer. No longer a ski mountain, or a water park, Mount Tom still has plenty of hiking trails and dons a giant shining star during the winter season. At the top we looked down on Whoville (yes, Easthampton, MA is the inspiration for the famous place in Dr. Seuss’s How The Grinch Stole Christmas!), which was hidden below the fog and puffy clouds. Green fields and faraway mills peaked through the openings, giving it a whimsical feel. We stopped at the airplane crash site memorial and continued on to wander around the remains of the old hotel. It is always good to revisit familiar places after some time away.

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I closed out November with another hike with Kristi, through the Leadmine Mountain Wildlife Conservation area near Sturbridge, MA, Nipmuc homeland. An extensive area of well marked trails, this is a quiet and family friendly area. Hiking along ponds, marshes, and forests, across rock ledges, and down wide paths, we completed an 8 mile loop easily. Heart warming, soul filling conversation between old friends passed the time quickly. I was so wrapped up in the beauty of our hike, I forget to take any pictures! Kristi snuck this one of me on the trail though.

The beginning of December brought socially distant walks with family in new state parks. First, my sister and I photographed Moore State Park in Paxton, MA where an old mill and house/tavern sit among rhododendrons and lakes on the indigenous lands of the Nipmuc. Despite winter approaching, small signs of life could still be seen in the flowing water, green mosses, and furry capsules protecting future buds. It’s a small park, and I look forward to returning the spring when the rhododendrons are in bloom. Next, a few days later, I met my mom at Wells State Park, a good halfway point for us both. With microspikes on, we were prepared for the icy trail ahead. As we wandered through the winter wonderland, icicles hanging from rock piles and dripping off leaves caught our attention. We paused to capture the beauty, and then quickly hustled along to ward off the freezing temperatures of the air. Good conversation kept us going and we were back at the car for lunch before we new it. With the heat cranked up, we warmed our toes and fingers as we chomped on our food.

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I’ve come to appreciate winter hiking – I think finding something active to do in winter makes all the difference. Sure, it’s cold and often gray. But those rare bluebird, sun filled days are the best. I’ve always downhill skied, so excitement over snow has always come easily to me. And now feeling empowered to hike in the winter I think will make some of the tough moments of winter, a little easier to overcome. My hope is everyone finds something, indoors or outdoors, that they look forward to during winter.

Light dustings of snow, nor a foot of snow, have kept me off of the trails. Callahan State Park in Framingham and Marlborough is the new-to-me land I am exploring. The first hike took me through dog-friendly trails to big fields and small ponds. The second took me to solitude as I stomped through snow on freshly broken tracks. I’ve learned that walking in snow is a lot like trying to hustle through sand to your coveted beach spot. Three miles really felt like six, but it was worth it. Perhaps I will invest in snow shoes this winter? Or maybe I should pull out my cross-country skis next time. 🙂

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In between my hikes in the snow, when the leave covered ground was visible, I met Kristi at Quabbin Reservoir in Ware, MA for hike to Quabbin Hill. I love enjoying the trails here, and am always thinking about how dramatically this land has changed since the flooding of Swift River to make the water reserve. The complexities of history, and steps we need to take to maintain human life as our population grows, are challenging and amazing. While I am grateful for this preserved land, I am also sad for the towns and villages that were lost to create it. That is why I always take time to acknowledge the history of the land that is bringing me so much joy.

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If you are curious about learning about the history of the land you enjoy, specifically which indigenous tribes it belongs to, check out this website.

I hope to be back soon with some more winter hiking adventures, and maybe even to say I was able to safely hit the slopes! Until then, I hope you are able to find ways to enjoy winter and celebrate any December holidays you might with loved ones.

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Before the New England camping season completely ended, I snuck in one last trip. This trip was special in a different way. It wasn’t a long drive or to a majestic national park. Instead, it was to Connecticut, the land of the Peqout, Mohegan, and Western Nehantick. It brought me to family who I haven’t seen in months, to a visit with my grandmother, and to my first solo camp stay. It was a fitting way to end this first season of travel.

In East Lyme, CT, nestled on Lake Pattagansett is The Island RV Park, newly owned by my cousin’s fiancé, Kevin. It is hidden gem, a small boutique RV park with lovely lake views from underneath tall oak trees. Standing on the small dock at my campsite, admiring the fall foliage across the water, felt like a dream. My first night there, the setting sun cast a lovely, peaceful glow on all.

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I hadn’t seen Rebecca, my cousin, or Kevin in ages, and it was lovely to catch up. Growing up we visited Rebecca and her siblings often in Mystic, enjoying cable TV free vacations exploring their backyard and canoeing in the Mystic River. This trip felt like coming full circle in life. We spent the first night enjoying family dinner at the picnic table and reminiscing around the campfire after dark. For the last campfire of the season, I couldn’t have asked for better company.

The next morning I woke up to rain and gray skies, but it didn’t matter. I’ve grown to enjoy these days that force me to do very little. I puttered around the van, making breakfast and washing dishes, listening to the tap tap tapping of droplets on the roof. I worked on my blog and curled up under the blankets. When Rebecca and Kevin had a break in their work schedule, they gave me a tour of the house they are renovating at the campground and we scheduled some plans for later in the week. I wandered around the campground taking pictures, finding beauty in the small things. I swung on the swings and took in the quiet.

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While I was camping solo this week, I was certainly not alone. Before heading to Florida for the winter, my uncles Tim and Rudy were visiting to enjoy a few outdoor visits with my grandmother before the weather got too cold. With an extra room in their rental available, they invited my parents down for a few days. It was a small, partial Nolan/Tonelli family reunion. That night I got to enjoy their company through living room workouts, lobster rolls, and an intense game of Phase 10. Tonellis and Nolans are pretty competitive. 😉 Being together with family almost made it feel, temporarily, like there was some normalcy in the world. It was nice. Neo and Bailey, my uncles’ dogs, were nice snuggle buddies too.

I stayed up far too late, but it was worth it. My mom drove me pack to the RV park (a thank you for all the driving I did for them this summer) and I settled in for a restful night’s sleep.

Another gray day awaited me on Wednesday, but I didn’t let it stop me from exploring the area. During a morning work break, Rebecca took my to a local farm stand to pick up produce and visit the animals.

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Later that day, another wonderful aspect of The Island RV Park is its location. Within 20 minutes there is access to several Connecticut state parks. This day, I picked Rocky Neck State Park and after arriving headed out on a well-marked trail along the marsh. While the ground was wet below my boots, the sun kept trying to sneak out from behind the clouds and it was quiet. Despite numerous cars in the lot, I was largely alone on my hike, left to enjoy the lingerings of fall colors in the trees and plants.

At first I hiked through the tunnels of rhododendrons, twisting and turning around each other and upwards towards the light. Their gnarled brown trunks gave way to deep greens leaves overhead. I watched my step as I walked among their shallow roots poking above the surface and eventually came out at the forest edge and was greeted by the golden brown reeds standing tall along the marsh edge. The path took me to the far border of the park before looping me back along Four Mile River and through fields of bushes burning red and deep maroon.

I ended at the beach, first looking down on the water from the stone pavilion high on the cliff, then down on the jetty reaching out into the waves. Despite the gray skies and fog, a few families ran through the grass chasing seagulls and others braved the cold ocean water.

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After a full day of outdoor joy, I headed to downtown Niantic before heading “home.” Several hours in the Bookbarn Downtown later, I went home with some new used book finds and a few birthday gifts for upcoming celebrations. Yoga on the dock and a warm dinner alone capped off a lovely day in Connecticut.

Thursday I awoke to fog covering the lake and decided to venture to Harkness Memorial State Park per my sister’s recommendation. The park is a large estate on Western Nehantick and Mohegan land that overlooks the ocean. On this particular morning, I couldn’t see the water ahead of me, hidden behind the mist, but I could hear the waves crashing at the distant shore. The low hanging clouds gave the land an eery vibe, clinging to the orange leaves lining the walkways and leaving dew droplets on the bushes. I walked down the paved paths through the back the park, taking in the calm and quiet.

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Before this land was a state park, it was the summer mansion and botanic gardens of of the Harkness family. And before that, it was the space where native peoples farmed, fished, and hunted. This could have been the summer homeland of the Nehantick people where they may have grown corn, beans, and squash. In Octobers past, they most likely would have been preparing to move to their winter camp on higher ground, in loghouses, where there was better protection in the forests from the winter elements. On a cold, raw morning like this, I could imagine why they would relocate.

As I walked and investigated what this place holds today, a mix of natural fields, tailored gardens, and historic buildings lay before me. The botanic gardens were still partially in bloom, bringing splashes of color to the scenery through the dahlias. The ivy covered trellises and walls switched between forest green and bright red. The grapes on the vines were long gone, but the yellowing leaves were still holding on to the branches. I meandered about, snapping photos from different angles and reflecting on the vast changes this land has experienced in the last several hundred years.

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After lunch, the sun had burned off the fog and I finally caught a glimpse of the blue green ocean out front. I wandered down to the rocky beach to appreciate the view that looks out onto Long Island Sound before packing up for the afternoon. First, a few minutes sitting in the sun, soaking up the warmth.

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That evening Rebecca, Kevin, Uncle Tim, Uncle Rudy, and I gathered for dinner on the water in Mystic. We enjoyed various seafood dishes and each others’ company. Heaters allowed us to sit comfortably and safely. With a few more layers, I think I can continue to gather with loved ones outdoors for several more weeks.

Friday, me last day, was full of mixed emotions. Lots of gratitude for the months of traveling I was privileged to enjoy in 2020 and sadness for the end of the season. Mixed with some anxiety about what comes next, on lots of different levels, it was hard to get moving in the morning. I eventually did make it down to Rebecca and Kevin’s camper and “office” to say, “See you soon” and “Thank you.” Looking forward to our next gathering.

Before completely heading home and parking the van, I stopped by my Uncle Charlie and Aunt Linda’s home in Mystic. My uncle proudly toured me around the yard, displaying the hard work he’s put into the ice pond and retelling his battles against the muskrats who keep trying to make their home there. We sat on the porch, sipping tea and chatting with my aunt about everything happening in the world and our hopes for a bright future. As an adult, I appreciate my relationships with family in a new way. It’s nice to know that people can fit different needs as you grow older.

Finally I did head out and drove to my parents’ home in Western Mass where I will park the van for the winter. This past Tuesday I took the Solis in for minor repairs and winterizing, truly signaling the end of this season. While I am eagerly awaiting the spring and more travels, now I am settling in at home and taking time to figure out my next steps. One moment at a time. I plan to share updates from time to time, so stay tuned!

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After a relaxing weekend with Alexa in Vermont, I picked up my friend Elizabeth and set off for the next adventure. Elizabeth is a dear friend of mine who is starting her own baking business, specializing in personally designed cakes. You can check her out on Instagram @rosemaryandrhubarb. Since she works from home, and had limited her social engagements, we felt it was relatively safe to travel together. So off we went!

Our plan was to tour through Maine, stopping at various local cideries along the way and hiking in between. Weather was relatively uncooperative, and we quickly learned that the tourist industry in Maine closes after Indigenous People’s Day, but we managed to create some wonderful memories together anyway!

The first stop was Rococo’s in Kennebunk, ME for an afternoon ice cream treat. Sadly it was closed. But don’t get too sad for us, we squeezed in a stop on our way home. Boy, was it worth the wait!

So we pressed on, in the gray, dreary weather, towards Portland for our resting place for the night. Urban Farm Fermentory is a Harvest Host location and one of my favorite cideries in Maine! They produce all kinds of beverages, including delicious kombucha and jun. Everything was sopping wet when we arrived, and bitterly cold, but we were not stuck at home, so we weren’t too sad about it! We enjoyed a drink under the tent, blueberry cider for me, and then rushed back to the van to dry off and warm up! Thank goodness for the van.

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We passed the afternoon and evening with boardgames at the table – Spot It!, Speed, and Uno. And ordered poutine and roasted brussel sprouts from Duckfat downtown. We saved our spot at UFF with a cone we borrowed from the loading dock and drove over to grab it hot out of the fryer. Overall, despite the rain, it was a great first day away.

The next morning we woke up determined to taste donuts from Holy Donut. We had to get there before all the gluten free one were gone! The sun decided to reveal itself from behind the clouds, so we opted to walk the mile to the downtown location. We could almost taste them as we walked down Exchange Street, but when we arrived we found a closed sign on the door. The downtown location is closing! Nooo! What to do now? Well, the other Portland location was only another mile away, so we decided to go for it. My fingers were crossed the whole time that the gf donuts wouldn’t be sold out.

We walked through new parts of Portland, by parks and various community buildings, greeting everyone we saw, until we arrived at the shop full of hope. And guess what? They still had PLENTY of gf options. Totally worth the 2 mile walk! Plus, they had hot apple cider to warm up our chilled hards. Win. I picked out a chocolate glazed, a chocolate toasted coconut, and an apple cider donut to try. Three isn’t too many, right? With mouths watering, we hurried over to the park and found a lovely bench to sit in as we dove into our treasures. And they didn’t disappoint! Even the seagull nearby knew they were tasty – he kept trying to sneak in for a taste. I was feeling generous that day and left behind a few crumbs for it. 😉

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With this great start to our day – sunshine and donuts – we couldn’t wait for what else was ahead. As we approached UFF as our walk back, we came across several murals adorning buildings along the bike path. Beautiful works of art representing different styles and different artists from Portland area. Walking always leads to a different perspective. So happy we walked into these masterpieces.

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The good vibes and sunshine followed us on our way north to Boothbay Harbor. While most attractions in the area were closed nearby, we learned that the Boothbay Region Land Trust has several properties full of hiking trails to enjoy. To stretch our legs before the sun slipped below the horizon, we headed over to Oak Point Farm for a walk.

The well marked path led us through the woods to a cove filled with cold Maine water. We climbed down the embankment and across the slippery, spongy seaweed to taste the water’s temperature ourselves. Yup, cold! But so refreshing and clean.

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With a little time left after we finished our loop through the fields filled with milkweed pods bursting with seeds, we drove over to Hendrick’s Head Lighthouse. The tide was still out, so we were able to climb over more noodle like seaweed and up onto the rocks to see the lighthouse out on the point. The setting sun cast a golden glow along the water, a magical scene. After our climb down, we studied the sand on our walk back, searching for sea glass and sparkling rocks. We spotted snail trails and air bubbles were other creatures had dug themselves below the surface. Everything felt peaceful.

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Content with how our plans turned out, we headed back to the campground for dinner and a campfire. A lot of pine needles and a little “girl scout juice” (EVOO) and we had a warm fire to enjoy as we connected over different tales.

The next day, knowing we had a full day of sunshine once again but that more rain was coming, we were motivated to spend as much time outside as possible. We drove to the Lobster Cove Meadow Trailhead and headed out on our hike. Despite it being mid-October, the colors were still popping in the trees. The forest trail brought us out to the water and we found a hidden bench to sit on as we admired the view. A few frogs poking their heads above the surface kept us company as we soaked up the sunshine.

The rest of our hike took us through the forest on the far side of the cove, then back through golden meadows with reeds blowing in the afternoon breeze. A few wispy white clouds began to roll in as the afternoon approached, but we managed to absorb a little more vitamin D before heading back for lunch.

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That afternoon and evening the temperature dropped quickly and the winds picked up steadily. We tried to make a fire to stay warm, but the swirling air made it tough to comfortably keep the fire blazing in the fire pit. After dancing around the flames for a while, trying to avoid the smoke as it constantly changed direction, we gave up and went inside to warm up instead. You win some, you loose some. Overall, it was a pretty great day outdoors.

Friday called for rain, all day, again. While spending the first day in the van all day had been fun, we knew we didn’t want to do that again. Instead, we decided to try out three different cideries across Maine. Ricker Hill in Turner, Orchard Girls in Kingfield, and Tree Spirits in Oakland (ok – the last one was more of a winery). After driving 300 miles on consecuitve days during our trip out west, all this driving didn’t seem like a big deal at all. Plus, it passed the day enjoyably!

We enjoyed all three of our stops, but Ricker Hill was definitely our favorite and one we hope to revisit sometime soon. The great place about this spot is they also have PYO apples, a maze, and pumpkin farm!

Beyond the taste testing, driving through the small Maine towns and admiring the countryside was my favorite part of the day. We drove down backroads lined will yellow and orange trees glowing against the gray sky. The unceeded land of the Wabanaki Confederacy is some of the most beautiful I’ve seen in New England.

We rested that night at Tree Spirits, another Harvest Host location, before driving home on Saturday. We couldn’t go home without stopping at Rococo’s though! So, there we went.

Despite it being cold and rainy, we couldn’t pass up homemade ice cream. Especially not at Rococo’s with all their unique flavors. We both picked out an ice cream flight – mine filled with dark chocolate, blood orange, salty sweet cream, and ginger molasses – and headed back to the van to enjoy it in the warmth. No sooner had we sat down than we dove in! Probably some of the best ice cream I’ve ever tasted – and I’ve tried a lot! Flavorful, creamy, and unique. Can’t wait to visit their test kitchen one day.

The joy of the ice cream brought out the sun and we were treated to a beautiful drive the rest of the way home. Despite a few obstacles, Maine was a great next chapter on my season of travel. Elizabeth was a lovely travel companion.

Well, staying home didn’t last long! While I always intended to travel for most of the fall, the urge to escape the city hit me harder than expected. Perhaps it was the sense of urgency to explore all the places on my dream list. Perhaps it was the self-imposed pressure to figure out “what’s next” for me as an educator. Perhaps it was the cooling temperatures and the thought of winter that would keep me at home for months. Perhaps it was the need to be closer to nature. Or most likely, it was a combination of all those factors. I love my apartment home and the convenience of its location, however eight plus weeks away has taught me it might not be meeting my needs any more. Somewhere a little less urban and a lot more green might be calling my name. Perhaps. We will see. Lots of time to make a decision. For now, more reflecting and adventuring.

With new data suggesting COVID cases were on the rise, I decided to alter my plans and stay in the greater New England area. It felt like the safest, most socially responsible decision. I still had plenty of options and with fall foliage popping, it wasn’t too hard of a decision. However, it did mean I’d only have a few weeks of travel left as most camping facilities shut down in New England by the end of October. So, time to get going!

My first trip out was a weekend getaway with a dear friend, Alexa. We talked seriously about the risk factor of traveling together, mask expectations, and comfort level for activities. We agreed our day to day precautions and privileges meant our exposure level to the virus was low and were comfortable taking the risk to travel in the van together. So we went for it.

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Burlington, Vermont was our chosen destination for the long weekend. We drove up in the dark, after Alexa finished work, stopped for Chipotle along the way (oh, how I missed this easy dinner option!), and arrived at our campsite under the starry skies. Lone Pine Campground is situated in Colchester, VT on a quiet street just a few miles from the highway. We had a spot on the upper loop, away from the main activity of the campground, that backed up to the woods. Perfection. We quickly set up and settled in for the night, making sure to turn on the heat so Alexa would be warm in the bed in the pop-up. In the morning, she reported it was nice and toasty.

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With the sun shining and the temperature agreeable, we drove over to Niquette Bay State Park for a short hike. Situated on the land of the Wabanaki Confederacy, the park covers wooded forests that lead up to the shore of Lake Champlain, where the native peoples would have hunted and fished. The Wabanaki Confederacy was formed in the 1680s as a strategic alliance between several Algonquian- speaking tribal nations looking to maintain their rights to their lands against the influx on white immigrants. Their collective force helped them to create treaties and demand justice well into the 1800s. In honor of the recent Indigenous People’s Day, you can learn more here about the tribes today.

We appreciated the spectacular views this sacred land offered as we hiked along the forested path. The sun was warm on this mid October day and soon we were shedding layers. Above us, yellows and oranges rustled in the trees with the wind and cast a glow on all around us as the sun rays poked through. Every so often we got a peak of the rolling hills around us, sprinkled with flaming fall colors amongst the green evergreens.

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As we approached the lakefront, we climbed down to the dog beach to rest and admire the views. The wind was strong, causing small waves at the rocky shore and whitecaps out in the middle of the lake. The rough waters did not deter the two dogs wrestling with a stick. When the stick was tossed into the restless water, the senior Black Lab would run and belly flop after it without hesitation. It would proudly swim back to shore, only to have the puppy friend steal away the toy! A wrestling match ensued afterwards. This hilarious pattern continued over and over, even as we departed some time later. Goodness, to have that kind of energy!

We finished our loop while admiring the old growth trees, trying to understand how their common names derived from their Latin ones, and stopped back at the van for lunch. A lovely grass picnic area awaited us, so we pulled out our camping chairs and table and parked ourselves in a sun filled spot. Life doesn’t get much better than that.

We arrived back at the campground just as clouds rolled in and rain started to pepper the ground. Warm and dry inside, we people watched from the van for a while and later pulled out cards to play Crazy 8s and sample some ciders we picked up at the Beverage Warehouse. A night of laughter and reminiscing ensued, filling our hearts and souls. Sleep came easy that night.

The next day we woke up to clear skies and sun, although a bit brisk. The hardy New Englanders that we are, Alexa and I headed out for another excursion. This time, we opted for bikes!

The greater Burlington area has a extensive bike path with views that don’t disappoint. We began at the Airport Park in Colchester and headed towards the Causeway Trail. The bike route takes you under a tunnel of trees out to Lake Champlain. The trail continues across the lake via the causeway, all the way to the bike ferry. While you can take the bike ferry across the gap for $5, we opted to turn around and explore the other direction. Riding through the middle of the lake is a memorable experience, water on both sides and stunning scenery. The wind was against us on the way out, but gave us a nice assist on the return trip. Thanks Mother Nature!

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Back at the van, we packed out bags with lunch and headed through the small neighborhood to connect to the rest of the bike trail. Several miles down the path we were rewarded with more open views of the lake and changing trees. We rode until North Beach, where we settled for lunch. With a picnic blanket in the backpack, we had a lovely spot to stop and rest while me munched on cold cuts, olives, clementines, and carrots. The sun warmed our hands and faces and our legs and bums get a much needed rest from the bike. 😅

Eventually we made our way back to the van and then campground, where we chased the sun in our chairs for awhile as we colored and knitted. When the cold was too much, we retired inside for dinner and then started a dancing fire outside. We stayed until we burned all the wood, and then rushed inside to escape the chilly night air. Another win for van life – it comes with heat!

Monday we enjoyed a leisurely drive home, traveling through the open lands of various tribes that make up the Wabanaki Confederacy, which means People of The Light. I could see why, as the sun shone down on the rolling hills making the land sparkle.

We stopped briefly at The Vermont Teddy Bear Factory and perused the store (no tours due to the pandemic), picked up a special order for my dad at Stone Corral Brewery, and headed to King Arthur Flagship Store. If you’ve never been there, I highly recommend a visit! They have a beautiful store full of baking supplies (and lots of gluten free mixes!), a cafe and bakery, and lovely outdoor seating area. They do a top notch job with COVID precautions, giving you a pager to alert you when it’s your turn in the store and clearly marking out six feet spacing in the bakery area. Everyone wore masks and employees were enforcing proper mask positioning with customers. We felt very comfortable and will definitely be back, especially when they are able to host cooking classes safely in the future!

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While we waited to shop, we enjoyed our baked goodies and hot chocolate outside and marveled at the beautiful wood building. If for nothing else, you have to come see this location and architecture.

After our shopping spree (maybe 5 or 6 mixes later?), we drove home while it was still light out so we could enjoy the foliage along Route 89. I dropped Alexa off and headed to my apartment to organize and sanitize for my next guest! Stay tuned for the next post about Maine!