Traveling to Far Away Places

A trip in the Summer of 1981 to the White Mountains of New Hampshire. Mr. She and I were to get married. He drove up there with the kids, in the Datsun F10, towing a tiny Ted Williams (Sears) tent trailer that we had bought (very) second hand for $300. It was perfectly serviceable: A small but towable metal base with a bit of storage room, into which was folded/shoved the canvas tent, and which was used as a bed once the canvas was out of the way, said canvas folding outward onto the ground and creating and then being erected into a tent in which it was possible to stand, and which made something like a 7x10 enclosed space. It would have been great for a couple, providing a dry and elevated bed, and then a "living room" for chairs and a table. For two adults and three children, it was a bit cramped. (Also, this was before "miracle, lightweight, breathable, outdoor fabrics," so we're talking heavy canvas. As long as things stayed dry, it was great. Putting away the wet tent in the morning and putting it back up at the next campground in the evening was a miserable undertaking. Memorable, but miserable.)

I didn't have much time off, so I flew up after the rest of them had arrived. We got married in North Conway, in the garden of the local Justice of the Peace. He was a widower with what the Brits would call a "cottage garden," (it was beautiful) with hummingbirds and butterflies all over the place. I wore shorts. Mr. She looked like an escapee from the Bee Gees. Sam was the best man. Michael took the photos. Jenny handled the flowers. Afterwards, we had dinner at the Elmwood Restaurant, where we enjoyed the special of the day--which was either Chicken or Veal Parmesan for the princely sum of $1.45 a plate.

The next day, Mr. She set off with the boys for a few of days hiking the "hut-to-hut" trail in the mountains. Jenny didn't want to go, so I stayed with her at the campground, with the afore-mentioned Datsun F10. We'd agreed to meet, about twenty-five miles down the road, three days later.

I'd never driven a car with a stick shift before. Figuring it out, by myself, with a not-always-cooperative twelve-year old in the car was quite a challenge, especially since we were in very hilly territory. I met so many nice men who let me drift backwards onto their front bumpers, so I could get the car moving forward in first gear on an uphill grade. Eventually, even Jenny started to see the funny side, screaming with delight as we bounced around and lurched back and forth, shouting, "Whee!! This is just like Kennywood!!"

Somehow, we survived, and all met up, down the road a few days later. I happily, and very competently, drove a stick shift for decades after that. After Mr. She died, I downsized to just one vehicle, a Nissan Rogue Sport with a CVT. It's been absolutely fine, and I have no complaints, but I really, really, miss the stick. Fortunately, I have the Polaris utility vehicle, and the New Holland tractor, so I can still keep my hand in, and I make do with them.

Here we are in 1981. Jenny and Sam peeking out the tent. Behind it is The Ugliest Car in the World. I think this was taken during the few days we spent in Maritime Canada, after the wedding and the, umm, glorious honeymoon I've described above:

I've lived in, and visited, many more exotic locations over the course of my life. But few experiences top that quirky two weeks in the Summer of 1981.

We have done three Europe river cruises on Viking; we have scheduled an ocean cruise with them to Australia and New Zealand next year. The river cruises are fantastic; the clientele mostly is in the sweet spot between retirement and being too old to travel. Service is first class and excursions are as arduous as you prefer - lot of options. If this ocean cruise works out (much larger passenger group than the river cruises) we are eyeballing a UK ocean cruise.

Mrs Tex went everywhere flying for FedEx so I’m trying to catch up while I still can.

She (View Comment):

A trip in the Summer of 1981 to the White Mountains of New Hampshire. Mr. She and I were to get married. He drove up there with the kids, in the Datsun F10, towing a tiny Ted Williams (Sears) tent trailer that we had bought (very) second hand for $300. It was perfectly serviceable: A small but towable metal base with a bit of storage room, into which was folded/shoved the canvas tent, and which was used as a bed once the canvas was out of the way, said canvas folding outward onto the ground and creating and then being erected into a tent in which it was possible to stand, and which made something like a 7×10 enclosed space. It would have been great for a couple, providing a dry and elevated bed, and then a “living room” for chairs and a table. For two adults and three children, it was a bit cramped. (Also, this was before “miracle, lightweight, breathable, outdoor fabrics,” so we’re talking heavy canvas. As long as things stayed dry, it was great. Putting away the wet tent in the morning and putting it back up at the next campground in the evening was a miserable undertaking. Memorable, but miserable.)

I didn’t have much time off, so I flew up after the rest of them had arrived. We got married in North Conway, in the garden of the local Justice of the Peace. He was a widower with what the Brits would call a “cottage garden,” (it was beautiful) with hummingbirds and butterflies all over the place. I wore shorts. Mr. She looked like an escapee from the Bee Gees. Sam was the best man. Michael took the photos. Jenny handled the flowers. Afterwards, we had dinner at the Elmwood Restaurant, where we enjoyed the special of the day–which was either Chicken or Veal Parmesan for the princely sum of $1.45 a plate.

The next day, Mr. She set off with the boys for a few of days hiking the “hut-to-hut” trail in the mountains. Jenny didn’t want to go, so I stayed with her at the campground, with the afore-mentioned Datsun F10. We’d agreed to meet, about twenty-five miles down the road, three days later.

I’d never driven a car with a stick shift before. Figuring it out, by myself, with a not-always-cooperative twelve-year old in the car was quite a challenge, especially since we were in very hilly territory. I met so many nice men who let me drift backwards onto their front bumpers, so I could get the car moving forward in first gear on an uphill grade. Eventually, even Jenny started to see the funny side, screaming with delight as we bounced around and lurched back and forth, shouting, “Whee!! This is just like Kennywood!!”

Somehow, we survived, and all met up, down the road a few days later. I happily, and very competently, drove a stick shift for decades after that. After Mr. She died, I downsized to just one vehicle, a Nissan Rogue Sport with a CVT. It’s been absolutely fine, and I have no complaints, but I really, really, miss the stick. Fortunately, I have the Polaris utility vehicle, and the New Holland tractor, so I can still keep my hand in, and I make do with them.

Here we are in 1981. Jenny and Sam peeking out the tent. Behind it is The Ugliest Car in the World. I think this was taken during the few days we spent in Maritime Canada, after the wedding and the, umm, glorious honeymoon I’ve described above:

I’ve lived in, and visited, many more exotic locations over the course of my life. But few experiences top that quirky two weeks in the Summer of 1981.

What great Fun!! Thanks for telling us about it.

Tex929rr (View Comment):

We have done three Europe river cruises on Viking; we have scheduled an ocean cruise with them to Australia and New Zealand next year. The river cruises are fantastic; the clientele mostly is in the sweet spot between retirement and being too old to travel. Service is first class and excursions are as arduous as you prefer – lot of options. If this ocean cruise works out (much larger passenger group than the river cruises) we are eyeballing a UK ocean cruise.

Mrs Tex went everywhere flying for FedEx so I’m trying to catch up while I still can.

I've heard great things about those river cruises. I'm glad you had a great experience!

"But I’m 75 (to be 76 next month) and those long, arduous trips don’t call out to me anymore. Fortunately, my husband feels the same way. "

You're very fortunate, Susan. I'm 69 and my wife is 71. I'm in the mood to take a big trip every year--the world is a fascinating place, and we can afford it--but she is done with the hassles of traveling, using airports and rental car agencies and the like. So she wants to stayhome. Thus I've taken three trips to the Pacific Northwest with my youngest, Darling Daughter, and went to Amsterdam for 12 days with my second son to hear the Mahler symphony festival last May. My sons and I will be going to Germany to do a beer tour in 2026, my oldest is a professional brewer and has connections in the industry.

Best travel adventure? With my late first wife and our 4 children to Hawaii in 2004. I was at the peak of my earnings and we did everything over the top, nice rooms, first class tickets, a private flight for inter-island transport. I fondly remember seeing macaws on the side of the road in Oahu and fireworks over Kihei on Maui.