Chimney Rock

This place has a natural name for a naturally formed geologic formation: Chimney Rock. 1000 years ago the Pueblo Indians lived here and now it is a San Juan National Forest Area in southern Colorado.  We stopped here, but since we were on our way to Chama, New Mexico (and happened to take a big detour, which was fun), we decided not to walk up to the ruins and the rock itself.  
 
We also ran into several early 1900s Chevrolets in the parking lot with people that were out road tripping in real old vehicles.  We saw them again later in Chama, great fun. .

Checking out Bucks County Art, part 1

The weekend before last, AREA and I participated in Elephant's Eye, a great little event put on by artists in Bucks County, Pennsylvania.  You get a map, some directions and information, and then it is up to you to find the home studios of the sculptures, painters, and other artists that are part of this.  We spent 5 hours driving around in this rural, but rather upscale, part of Pennsylvania, across the Delaware River from Lambertville, NJ, and saw some really great art, some really interesting art, and some that didn't move me much.  Just like art should be.  Here is our story (part 1).

 

The first artist and studio we visited was Alex Cohen at King Oaks Farm in Newton.  This turned out to be the highlight of all the studio visits, not only because of the art, but also because Alex is funny, interesting, and likes to talk.

His studio (and apartment) is in the old carriage house (photo above) of this big estate which was owned by his grandparents.  They used to cut a meadow into a landing strip for planes in the early 1900s, and some of Alex' art is inspired by this.  What I really loved about his art was the diversity in the paintings, and they were happy (or less so, but not just depressing), interesting, alive, and varied in method, colors, and themes.  Some looked like colored-in black and white movie scenes from 1940s gangster flicks, others were more abstract and showed swaths of green in a spring forest.  Wonderful versatility, and lots of art.  Some of the studios we visited later had much less art and things around, and were therefore less interesting.  And many of the older artists seemed to have gotten stuck in a rut and only did one particular thing.  I won't mention their names here, because this is just a personal opinion, and others might love their work.

After a while, we got hungry. AREAs comment to this was: "Mom, you always know where the good places are, can't you take me to some little inn or something?". Well, I was in uncharted territory.  We drove and looked, drove and looked, but nothing looked good (just fast food or junk food or greasy pizza). Eventually we came to Gardenville, a tiny crossroads with a few houses with a sense of times past (the post office address is Pipersville).  A general store served sandwiches and we went in to ask if there was a place around that served sit-down food.
"Yes, you can sit outside at the garden tables," the young clerk said.
"No, like a place that serves warm food," I clarified.
"Oh, I guess the bar is open across the street," she said, "it is after noon.  Yep, it is open!"

We looked across the street, catty-corner to the general store was the Gardenville Hotel and Bar, of obvious ancient prestige (and I mean ancient here).  We weren't really sure about the whole bar-thing, but it said Dining Room on the sign too, so we crossed the street between giant GMC trucks and horse trailers.

 

We went inside, and after the dark hallway with wallpaper anno 1924 or so, came into a very dark dining room of similar decor.

 

Tiffany-lookalike lamps in the ceiling, metal chairs with red 'galon' (the kind that sticks to your skin through your pants on a hot summer evening), and an unmistakable smell.

"This smells like a hotel in Uzbekistan", I told AREA.  That musky, moldy, and old smell brought me back to some memorable times in the old Communist Party's summer vacation places (I wasn't making that up, it was from personal experience). Nobody was around, no waiter, no guests.  We made our way around the corner and found the bar, which actually was populated and didn't smell.  Nice waitress too, extremely nice and funny.

We sat down, by this time weak from hunger and thirst, at the table under the reindeer (they say caribou here, but they look the same).

 

A couple of regulars were sitting at the bar, one watching an old movie on the TV, and everybody was eating or ordering food.  Well, the food can't be that bad I thought, not if the regulars that know the waitress eat here.  (I don't really take photos of nice people I don't know, so the photo of the bar shows it empty)

So we ordered - grilled veggie wrap for the herbivore and Corona with lime and a Gardenville burger for me.  With SPECIAL potato salad, that all the regulars told me to get because I would love it (I did, it was fantastic). The food was really, really good, and it was not just because we were hungry.  We had happened to find a food oasis in the hybrid zone between rich people's suburbia and farming play country, and old real rural communities.  It was such a great experience.  So all of you readers on this blog, go and visit Gardenville Hotel and Bar in Gardenville, PA.  Oh, I didn't tell you, there is a real modern hotel in the back of the building, without Central Asian smells :)

The waitress told everybody a story about a man who had come in the weekend before and eaten 2 dozen oysters, 1 plate of steamed clams, one Gardenville burger, and two more big dishes. How did he fit it all?  Just the burger was giant.

OK, that was half the day - the rest will be in part 2.

(And a side note - AREA passed her drivers test and got her drivers license a few days earlier, so she drove the whole day, excellent job, kiddo!)

Chicago memory, part 1 - Norwegian adventures

In the taxi van at the airport and on my way to downtown Chicago, a Norwegian couple enter the van, with the man furiously angry at his wife because she had no small dollar bills available as a tip to the guy carrying their luggage.  I turned around, said, in Swedish - "you can pay later, he is our driver ", and the man cheered up and the wife smiled. Then the man said - "I know, I get so angry and frustrated when I shouldn't" - in Norwegian of course.

They had just landed after a long trip from Stockholm and the next day a rental car would be dropped off at their hotel for their 14-day trip driving old Route 66, from Chicago to Los Angeles.  Route 66 is the old classic route across America that many people drove in the 1950s... it is lined with classic but rundown hotels, scenery, and has become popular in recent years as something to do on vacation, apparently especially in the Nordic countries, said the Norwegian, who also said the REAL way to do it was on a Harley-Davidson, but he was too old for that. Plus he had no license for a motorcycle, he told me regretfully.

But first, the retired man informed me, "there will be spare ribs for dinner! American ribs, yeah!". He continued "all food is good in America", and "we are going to drive and drink Jack Daniels".  When I asked how far they had to drive he said -" I don't know, but I think 14 days is enough". I hope they are having fun and I hope they save the Jack Daniels for the evenings. They were a funny couple, the kind that made you laugh all the time, and I wonder what the other passengers were thinking hearing the Swedish and Norwegian languages mixing in the van. God tur, Norwegians!

Roadtripping.. part 3: Pennsylvania

Pennsylvania is a giant state, like the big bloated brother next to little New Jersey. New Jersey has the beaches and the people (9 million of them) and is the most crowded state in the US (sigh, I wish I lived surrounded by less people). Pennsylvania has lots of 'empty' space of oak forests, rolling hills, small towns and large towns. Many of the rural towns have been suffering from economic problems from decades, since the manufacturing industry collapsed. We drove through Pennsylvania on our way to Binghamton, and found some nice gems:

Starrucca viaduct, originally uploaded by Vilseskogen.

Starucca Viaduct, the largest, and at the time, most expensive, railroad viaduct in the world. In Lanesboro, PA, USA. Built 1847-1848 by the Erie Railroad, and still in use today.



How about some rubbish service?

The old Susquehanna railroad station, where no trains stop anymore. The station was renovated and made into a restaurant and bar, but that has closed and now it seems abandoned again.








I like the details on old railroad cars, like these springs on an old Erie Railroad box car. Look at those little wood pieces under, how long do they usually last?

More Pennsylvania photos here.

Roadtripping... part 2: Rhode Island

Driving across Bear Mountain Bridge in New York State, which crosses the Hudson River north of New York.  Great bridge, horrible driving directions from Google Map.  The trip from New Jersey to Rhode Island took me several hours longer than necessary. But the weather was gorgeous.

The old, historic Biltmore hotel has its Grand Ballroom on the 17th floor, and seems to be a relic of the gilded past. The views are grand, the plates have golden edges, and the AC was turned on too high so we froze. But it was fun! Especially when they auctioned off two 2 feet (60 cm) long penis-protectors made from gourds by natives from New Guinea, signed by the previous owner. The gourds were signed, I mean.












In Providence you can have your eyes checked on the street without any fees. Guess what street number this clinic has?




















On our way home from Rhode Island we decided to check out the ocean shore. That didn't really worked like we had planned. We were met by a giant thunderstorm with fierce rain at Point Judith lighthouse so we didn't even get out of the car. Half an hour later the sun shined again, but then we were on our way again. Rhode Island's coast is rocky, like most of Sweden's, and not the sandy, muddy mess we have along New Jersey. Rocks are better.

More photos from Rhode Island here.

They have great sweet potato fries in Connecticut.

Roadtripping...part 1: New Jersey

In the last couple of weeks we (or I) have made some road trips to drop and pick up kids in Binghamton, New York State (4.5 hours away), go to a conference in Providence, Rhode Island, or visit great little places here in New Jersey.  The photos from these trips are on my Flickr photostream, but here are some highlights:


Willowwood Arboretum is a public park in New Jersey, an old estate founded by two gardening brothers in the early 1900s. They and their hired gardener filled their large property with cultivated plants, including many Asian ones that had never before been cultivated in North America. It is a gorgeous place, with formal and informal gardens as well as woods, meadows, and whimsical and Japanese sculptures. And it is free! you can tell they have the whole property deer-fenced, just look at those tall flowers.  In my garden those plants would be chewed off 20 cm from the ground. We walked from Willowwood to the neighboring estate Bamboo Brook which has just been restored. It is a gorgeous little mansion on a hill with ponds, streams, terraces, and rock walls, surrounded by tall trees in the forest. Of course the day we were here it started to rain for the first time in 6 weeks, so I don't have many photos, but you can see some here.

(The red flower is a funky begonia.)

On the way to Willowwood I found this 'homemade' road sign - what do you think, is it a warning for attacking T's?

Never stop loving

Never stop loving, originally uploaded by Vilseskogen.

The Sourland Mountain in New Jersey has some interesting street art graffiti. Seen yesterday, on Ridge Road.

Book review: Malaria dreams by Stuart Stevens

You meet a friend you don't know so well in a bar. This friend tells you he has a Land Rover stuck in the Central African Republic, and wonders if you feel like going there and drive it back to Europe.  Sure you say, and manage to get another friend along for the adventure.  You go to CAR (Central African Republic) and the car is nowhere to be seen.  Three months later you manage to get to Europe, despite a million mechanical problems, African bureaucracy (which seems to be even worse than Central Asian bureaucracy), fun and unfun adventures, some malaria and dysentery, and not in the Land Rover.  And this is what happened.

This book, Malaria Dreams: An African Adventure by Stuart Stevens is a true story, and sort of like a diary of the way Africa works.  Things take time.  Creativity is a must. Italians are the best mechanics.  Don't trust the guides to take you to their home villages.  Insurance, what insurance?  Sleeping on the roof of a 4-wheel jeep under the stars - this is really Africa.

It is a great read, even if slow sometimes in the beginning, but this is a diary and there were many days of just waiting for something to happen.  The author, Stuart Stevens, have a great way with words and was one of the writers for our favorite TV series Northern Exposure.  I want to read more by him!  I am so amazed at their  persistence to actually do this trip, despite all the problems along the way.  Including a car that you can't turn off and that can only run in one gear, through Sahara.