“If I had known it was going to be like this, I would have rented some kids!”-Marc Sokol, a.k.a “El Magnifico.”
Tuesday, August 15 -As usual, I am the first one up. I decided to strike out in a westerly direction, intent on getting pictures of Haydenville (one of the “hill towns” west of Northampton) for my top secret project.
The weather seems to have improved and I swing by Look Park to take a peek. They have a very strange sign posted prohibiting “Blanket Picnics”. Funny, I’ve never really numbered THAT high on a list of threats to Modern Society.
I stop by Florence and have breakfast at the “Miss Florence” Diner. Hey, what’s with the pads and pencils? For years part of the charm of this place was that they NEVER wrote anything down.
I must admit that I seem to remember that it worked well when the waitrons were good at it and poorly when it didn’t (Now THERE’s an astute observation!) Across the street is a large building where Ken Burns of PBS fame obviously hangs out.
When I return to the Inn everyone is up and awake and watching Nickelodeon. I make numerous forays down to the motel lobby to bring back continental breakfast elements such as sweet rolls, bagels, and juices from around the world. The same guy always seems to be there - I check to see if he’s wearing leg irons manacled to the front desk. I DO notice that he looks more and more tired every time I see him.
Today’s our day to travel North and West. We motor up Greenfield way and find Rt. 2, “The Mohawk Trail”. Our van climbs the mountain effortlessly on all 6 cylinders, a vast improvement over the past few vacations where a stealth bad sparkplug wire contributed to poor engine performance. We stop at a combination MiniGolf Course/JunkShop/Petting Zoo/Observation Tower. The golf course is closed but the little boys greatly enjoy going out to the shed and visiting the animals. Brad and I pay to climb up the tower. It was quite a climb but quite a nice view when we reach the top.
Next stop was a store for Mommy, “Basketville”. What is it about steep scenic roads that make them conducive to selling baskets? Fine selection and Sally buys a few nice little baskets to hang on our kitchen wall. The boys can’t come in because they refuse to be seperated from the monstrous bag ‘o chips we’re carrying as our Life Support System. We get down to Shelburne Falls, a delightful town straddling the Deerfield River. It’s a little nerve racking watching Brad jump from rock to rock amid the raging torrent but the Glacial Potholes are everything I remember them to be. We would like to all stop at one of the little craft shops where they’re blowing glass but the little boys are too impatient. We wander over to cross the “Bridge of Flowers”, a horticultural marvel planted on an old abandoned stone bridge traversing the river.
As we headed home through the Berkshires we saw an interesting highway sign which I remember from years back. At one point Rt 112 North and Rt 116 South share the same road! VERY disconcerting. We finally hook up with Rt. 9 East and descend down into the valley through the “hill towns”. We are cajoled into stopping at McDonalds in Northampton, only to find that the only Kid’s Meal toys available are those which are specifically designed for .......arggh!.......GIRLS! We take our packages back across the River and eat our lunch poolside. The boys and I stick our feet in the water, but it’s pretty cold. Direct Polar Bear descendant Brad doesn’t seem to mind.
The little boys adjourn for naps while Bear and I go exploring. We decide to go out to Belchertown to get a head start on the festivities planned for the evening up at Bruce and Darlene Wallace’s. Our plan worked out very well - I got to see all of the house and shop improvements while Brad got to play with Shauna (9?), Lilly (6?) and Ian (3?).
Bruce has done a wonderful job with his house, an old gristmill built on tall pilings above a rushing stream. Two Anderson windows installed in pre cut holes on our third floor suddenly doesn’t seem as impressive - but give me time! Brad was having such a good time with the other kids that we decided to leave him there while I went back down the hill to get the rest of the family.
We all returned about 6-ish and had an absolutely delightful time. Bruce had invited many of my old friends from days past and it was great seeing everyone. Terry Avery arrived just in time for all of his kids to get in some serious playground time on the Wallace’s swingset behemoth. Herb Mayer and his wife came with their 14 year old son - I realize I hadn’t seen him for at least 15 years.
Marc Sokol and Mark MacArthur made the scene; we had a wonderful time reminiscing about the “good old days” and catching up with everyone’s more recent history. Mark asked me where we were staying and I told him of our temporary Hadley digs. He said, “Oh, you’re down on the ‘flats’”. I forgot, that’s “hamper” talk.
Bruce’s son Ian smeared “California Dip” on the glass of the front door, to Darlene’s dismay. I conjectured that it seemed very biblical, that the Angel of Unhappiness would pass by any house marked with Onion Dip on its door.
Our big surprise guest of the evening surprised us all by not showing up. Bob Humphreys was due to entertain us with his presence but obviously encountered some sort of horrendous work related snafu at his company. All of us staid mid-lifers agreed to give up on him at about 9 PM, a time that we were all just getting going back in the “Day”. The mountains of food Bruce and Darlene cooked was fabulous and we all left very well satiated.
