Chapter 2— We Reach the Coast
At Hampton, New Hampshire, we found a public parking lot along the shore at Ocean Boulevard. After parking our yellow Chevy Van, the three of us, Linda, my wife, Robert, our passenger, and I, ran across the beach to the ocean. It was late afternoon on a hot summer day; it was June 19, 1974.
Brrrrrr! We suddenly discovered that the ocean water on the New Hampshire coast is about as cold as it gets, courtesy of the Labrador Current. It was clear to me that I would not be swimming in that ocean; I hate cold water.
We were presently on our way to Prince Edward Island, Canada where we had been invited to spend a few days with Robert’s grandmother.
As evening approached, we drove to the inland side of Ocean Boulevard into a residential neighborhood that consisted of summer cottages. Because it was early June and school was still in session, most of the cottages were vacant. We parked along a road that was near a public park. We placed our Coleman gasoline stove on a picnic table, and Linda prepared a hot vegetarian meal.
Afterward, we placed the stove back in its cubby and packed the leftover food in the ice cooler. It was early evening.
Despite posted signs stating: “Sleeping in cars is prohibited,” and “The ocean closes at midnight,” we decided to boondock where we were parked.”
There was a cabin across from our parking spot. Although I don’t remember its exact location after all these years, it looked similar to this one:
Darkness had not yet fallen, and we settled down to relax before turning in. Linda and I were seated in the open side door of the van. Robert was sitting on the front porch of the cabin across from us. His doing so troubled us since he was trespassing and risked calling unwanted attention to our presence. Later after full darkness arrived. We all turned in for the night.
ALICE
Opening the van’s side door on the morning of June 20, 1974, I noticed a woman seated on the front porch that Robert had occupied the previous evening. I thought it to be in our best interests to establish friendly relations with our neighbors. Linda and I thought we’d like to stay one more night to enjoy a full day at the beach. Robert indicated that it didn’t matter to him one way or the other, but he was barely able to conceal his joy over the idea of spending a day by the sea.
Our neighbor was Alice, mother, Grandmother, great-grandmother, she was sitting on her porch rocking. Strong, hard factory worker, nurse, tolerate-no-nonsense Alice. Sitting relaxing, rocking, and waiting on her porch. I said, “Hi” to her and friendly, gentle, tender, kind Alice said, “Hello” back.
Alice and her husband had occupied their cottage earlier in the summer than most since they had no children in school.
Alice invited us to visit with her and her husband on their porch. We had a pleasant visit with them. Alice enjoyed telling stories about her life experiences. She had children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. Alice had been a factory worker and a nurse. She was a person who would tolerate no nonsense or ill-treatment. I found her to be a warm and friendly person, but I would not have dared to cross her. Fortunately, I had no desire to do so. During the time we remained in Hampton, I considered the couple friends.
Alice advised us that it would be safe to remain camping where we had parked the van. The small park where we had dined had a public restroom, making it a convenient spot. Our new friends explained that the neighborhood would remain nearly deserted until near the end of June when schools let out since most of the summer residents were younger and had school-age children. There would be no one to report us as vagrants.
We noticed that Robert did not join us on the porch. Instead, he made himself comfortable in the van while sipping some beer that he had purchased during our earlier fuel stop.
VIOLATION OF TRUST
While sitting on the porch with Alice and her husband, Linda noticed what looked like a marijuana roach in a corner. We surmised that Robert had been smoking the joint while seated on the porch the previous evening. It was a disturbing revelation. In 1974, possession of marijuana was a serious felony in all 50 US states and all provinces in Canada. We had all agreed when we departed on this journey that we would not possess any illegal substances.
The possibility that Robert would possess marijuana when we crossed the border into Canada was particularly concerning. The officers at the entry port are authorized to search vehicles for contraband. They may do so at will without citing a cause. They sometimes perform random searchess.
We confronted Robert and he admitted that he was responsible for the roach on the porch. His smoking would not have concerned us if he had been more discreet. We suggested that he dispose of any leftover stash one way or another. We made it clear that he was endangering all of us by possessing marijuana while trespassing on a neighbor’s porch.
Robert agreed that he would dispose of his stash before we moved on. We hoped that he would keep his promise.
MEDICAL MISFORTUNE
Later that evening, as we prepared to turn in for the night, Linda complained of slight pain in one of her gums. During the night, it became a full-fledged toothache. By morning she was in substantial pain. It was only partially alleviated by a dose of aspirin. It was extremely fortunate that we had made friends with local residents. Alice referred Linda to a local dentist. She and her husband were regular patients of the dentist. With Alice’s referral, he arranged to see Linda that day.
It turned out that Linda had developed an impacted wisdom tooth which the dentist was able to remove surgically. In consideration of our status as itinerant travelers, he set up a follow-up appointment three days after the initial operation. I can’t imagine what we would have done if we had not made that connection with the local couple.
With the tooth removed and a prescription for some pain medication, Linda was feeling relieved and comfortable. We spent the next couple of days socializing with our new friends. We also spent some time walking along the beach and wading in the shallows of the ice-cold surf. We discovered that our friends, the cottage people, enjoyed playing a friendly game of cards. We passed some of the time engaging in that activity.
Robert, on the other hand, chose to spend his time sitting in the open side door of the van watching from the other side of the street. Occasionally he would retreat to the rear area of the van to sip another beer. Why he refused to sit on the porch and socialize with the cottage people remains an unsolved mystery.
After her follow-up visit to the dentist, we said our goodbyes to the cottage folks. We proceeded inland, heading west on Route 101 to connect to I-95 north, making a rare exception to my avoidance of limited access highways. There were few practical alternative routes. We soon crossed the state line and found ourselves in the state of Maine.
THE MOOSE
Somewhere north of Bangor, we encountered a sparsely populated, heavily forested area of the state. The highway narrowed to two lanes, something I had never before encountered along the Interstate Highway System. At one point, I saw an object ahead that appeared to be blocking the highway. As we drew closer, I could see that the object was an animal, a bull moose. I slowed the van expecting the beast to run off into the forest as I approached, but he did not budge. I drove within ten feet, and he stood his ground.
I beeped at him; Bulwinkle just stood there. I had never before encountered a live moose. This one seemed more mule than moose — too stubborn to move. I considered getting out and lighting a fire under him but thought better of it. I expect that he would not have hesitated to give me a good kick if he was of a mind to. Ultimately, the creature became bored and wandered slowly to the shoulder of the road and into the forest. To this day, I still use the expression: “stubborn as a moose.”
Shortly after we resumed our course, we passed by Houlton, Maine, and reached the Canadian border. In 1974, a U.S. citizen could enter Canada as a tourist with any valid picture ID. After passing through the port of entry into the province of New Brunswick U.S. I-95 became Canada Route 2, an arm of the Trans-Canada highway.
We made camp for the night just outside of Woodstock, NB. The next day after traveling east on Route 2 and veering off onto Route 16, we reached the Atlantic coast at Cape Marsh on the Northumberland Strait. After crossing the strait, we would land on Prince Edward Island.
