On a recent, two-day, down-and-back trip to the Philly area, I thought about all the trips I’ve made there over these 58 years. I realized with aging I have been adapting, adjusting and absenting.
The first adaptation was the day of the week and then the time of day that I would do the drive. Avoiding rush hour became crucial. Also, seasonal conditions. For example, mid-to-late afternoon in the fall on the New Jersey Parkway became almost painful due to the shutter effect between the sun and trees. The next adjustment was the routes taken. Southern New York and northern New Jersey are intensely traveled roads with up to five and six lanes. If you do the posted speeds, you are in a near death situation. It can be sickening watching cars zigzagging across four and five lanes. Typically, it is in small sports-type cars driven by Mario Andretti imposters.
I recalled the 1982 book, “Blue Highways: A Journey into America” by William Least Heat-Moon in which he recounted avoiding the big interstates and traveling on the old so-called blue highways. For those relying on your smart phone I may have just lost you. Before the internet there were maps and road atlases. While I don’t recall all the details, the new interstates promoted by President Eisenhower were shown as a thin red line while the old highways (such U.S. Route 66) were done in a thinner blue line. For trivia fans U.S. Route 1 from Maine to Key West, Florida was built in 1926, our first national highway but our own local Mohawk Trail is 100 years old. So, I went to my old United States Road Atlas to see what blue routes could mitigate some of the scarier driving aspects.
Now I do the drive almost half time on the old blue highways. For example, U.S. 17 moves through many abandoned small towns that died when the I-87 was built. Over the years traveling I have noticed how the big interstates cause death to so many small towns. Yet now there are signs of renewal in small towns.
I still am absent from a lot of family gatherings but that is due mostly to the size of my extended family with every month filled with special occasions such as birthdays, wedding, anniversaries, deaths, and graduations. The recent trip was to celebrate the 31st birthday of my nephew Patrick, a young man with Down syndrome. There was no big party last year as he was seriously ill in the hospital. So, a big pool party was given by his godparents with 50-some family and friends in attendance. Patrick sang and danced to ‘Be Our Guest” from Beauty and the Beast with great enthusiasm. That made a round trip worth it.
As I rolled peacefully along U.S. Route 202 from New Jersey into Pennsylvania, I neared my final destination but on PA Route 263 I stopped at None Such Farm in Bucks County. A flood of memories came. I pulled over to park by one of the older barns recalling trips there with my mother in the 1950s. This beautiful farm sold their corn to the Penn Fruit, a high-end supermarket chain that my mother did not use. But this farm sold their imperfect ears of corn for (then) a dollar a crate. Nothing wrong with the corn. The store had strict dimensions and those ears not meeting was our good fortune. Now, once again new generations are learning to be creative and resourceful as misfits, imperfect vegetables and similar businesses are selling, versus wasting, so-called ugly produce to newly minted frugal shoppers. These businesses will also deliver but not in our area. Here with farmers’ markets, we know the looks are least important to eating well.
Additionally, one of my youngest nieces showed me photos of her recent great finds of furniture. Solid wood, no particle board, but in dark stains that is once again having new life as places such as Amazon Marketplace and many, many others are catering to a new market of frugal, young home starters. The circle of life continues revolving round and round with seemingly new ideas on life and living but just a replay for some of us.
Marguerite Willis lives in Charlemont.