Vermont

Vermont is beautiful. I’ve never visited this state before and from what I’ve seen so far, that is a real shame. I entered the state yesterday on route 279 from NY and then got on state route 7 North. This goes up through the Green Mountain Forest, and it is just a wonderful sight. The trees amaze me. There are so many different kinds, all just mixed up in a deciduous/coniferous explosion. I never really understood why people raved about fall in New England; we have lots of trees change into reds and oranges in the MIdwest, after all. But having seen the sheer variety of the trees (and I’m no expert) I can only imagine the magical experience it must be to drive through this area in the fall.

Route 7 runs up the west side of the state, and I had quite a ways to get to my campground. There are mountains to each side of the road, covered in the verdancy of summer. Very few towns or farms were seen; I suppose because a lot of the initial drive I was in the state forest. I wish I could have taken pictures; towing a trailer doesn’t lend itself to snapping pics. There were some scattered pullouts but only in places that seemed to have no view.

I thought I might take some pics today, but it’s rained and been heavily overcast. The clouds misting over the mountains were very pretty but again, not photogenic for my purposes. Perhaps tomorrow I can grab something?

My campground is lovely. There are some seasonal sites around me, but most aren’t here since it’s the work week. Very quiet and very dark at night. I would definitely stay here again.

Tomorrow, I leave for Montreal and join the rest of the group. They are all already there and seem to be enjoying a nightly gathering.

Finally, to end this post I want to talk about fear. Before I left my site in Verona, NY the woman camped to one side approached me as I was sitting in my truck trying to figure out a decent route to Vermont. She said she thought my rear landing gear weren’t up (they were, they just ride really low) but what she really wanted to know was if I was by myself. When I confirmed I was, she reacted as many I’ve encountered do: amazement and wonder. How do you do it by yourself? I could never drive that rig. My husband does all the driving, I’d be too scared to do it.

Fear is the response to something you perceive might hurt you or put you in danger. Many women fear driving a large truck, but once they’ve had a chance to practice realize it’s no big deal. Back in the day no one thought twice about a woman driving a giant station wagon. It’s the length of a vehicle that you have to worry about, not the height (generally speaking). Add a trailer or fifth wheel to the back and suddenly they aren’t comfortable anymore. But the trailer goes where the truck goes, as long as it’s hitched properly. It’s just (again) longer. Wide turns, but otherwise no different than anything else.

Yet I have fear. When I’m driving, I’m alone. No one to tell me about a turn or to look on a map for a route if there’s a road closure unexpectedly. My height is limited when towing: 13 feed 2 inches, measured by two men on a ladder for me last summer. In the midwest, generally not an issue. In the northeast, could definitely be a limitation. I pored over my trucker’s atlas that I keep in my truck, which shows all the safe routes in a state for semis. If a semi can take a road, I can take it.

I scour Google maps for routes, knowing GPS wants to take you the fastest route, not the safest for a large vehicle Listening to GPS can get you in trouble really fast, but when you’re driving alone it’s a lifeline. Driving the NY Thruway was a piece of cake. There are regular places to stop for a rest, bathroom break, etc. I know there will be no height issues on a freeway or thruway. But my campground in Vermont was not on a freeway. And google maps thought it would be splendid to take some back roads as the fastest route.

So, I worried. And worried. And worried some more. I wished I’d never made arrangements to go to Vermont first. What was I thinking??? I could just get off the Thruway onto I-89 and go up to the Canadian border like others were doing. No risk of back roads. I’d be with others. Safe. Protected. I could relax.

I almost gave into my fears. Honestly, I was ready to eat my reservation and see if Montreal had any openings. But I told myself I was being silly. If I got into trouble the likelihood is someone would help me. There are good people out there. So, I picked a truck route (not the Google recommended routing) and I did it. And it was fine. I would have missed all this natural beauty because I was scared of what might happen.

Sometimes people say to me that they think I’m very brave, or that they could never do what I’ve done in my travels. Like when I went to live in an apartment I rented online in Lima, Peru for a month. Or when I bought my first trailer and my old F250, Bruce. When I got a fifth wheel and bigger truck and went to Alaska. When I left home on an airplane all alone in August 1988 to go to a university I’d never seen in person in a state I’d never stepped foot in. I remember crying myself to sleep my first night in my dorm, desperately lonely and wondering why I’d picked a college 3,000 miles from home.

But that’s the point, right? You adapt. You learn the world is smaller than you thought it was. By going so far away to college it was easy to choose to spend a summer in Houston doing research before my junior year and discover I didn’t want a PhD and genetic lab for my future, I wanted to be a doctor. Then going to med school in Pennsylvania instead of the comfortable choice of the University of Washington was no big deal.

I’m no paragon of courage. There are lots of things in my day-to-day life that scare me. Even more things in the bigger picture that seem to put my dreams in jeopardy. Sometimes I give in to them and I don’t follow through with something I wanted to do. But I’d like to think that when I’m dead and gone one of the messages that I lived was that I didn’t let my fears stop me from doing what I wanted. Thanks again for coming along with me. The true adventure starts tomorrow.