The night in the New Jersey campground, like I said, was rainy. In the morning my tent was quite wet, and I had to place it unfolded in my trunk, with the technique I've learned, in order to dry it out as I drove through the day.
I thought the day might dry up as it went on, but it remained foggy and a drizzly the entire morning and afternoon. Nevertheless it turned out to be a magnificent day of travel, one of those ones I will remember vividly for a long time, the kind that makes road travel all worth it.
First off I headed just a few miles up to the road to Port Jervis, which is right at the point on the Delaware where New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania come together. I had actually been to the town before several times, including once with my ex-wife when we were married, and also last year when I was on my way to Boston. It was here finally that my route on this trip intersected the one from the last year.
For the third time, I drove downtown and inspected the historic Erie Turntable, where the locomotives of the Erie Railroad were swapped on a giant pivoting section of track. I read the historical information again, and found new things of interest this time. I just can't seem to get enough of history about railroads and canals. I figured if my travels had brought me back here again, there must have been something new to learn there.
After Port Jervis is where the day got really fun. I had driven along many sections of the Delaware River, but never the upper section along the Pennsylvania-New York border. It turns out to be absolutely the most scenic part of the river. Even though it was a misty day, the views of the river canyon from the cliffside roads north of Port Jervis rivaled anything I had seen traveling by car.
Better yet were all the historic sites along this section of the river. It turned into the kind of day I love, where I stop nearly every half and hour to jump and explore another historical site. I especially love things from the colonial era, and the early western expansion into the frontier, and this section of the river was perfect for that.
Among the great things to see there are the oldest example of a wire rope bridge by John Roebling---an aqueduct for a canal over the Delaware River. I also had fun getting a one-person tour Zane Grey's study at his residence along the river. My favorite part was probably the visit to the site of the 1779 Battle of Minisink, where a group of Iroquois and Tories under native leader Joseph Brant ambushed and massacred a group of New York colonial miltia after the former had raided the settlement at Port Jervis.
It wasn't a national or even state historical site, but maintained by Sullivan County. A group of boy scouts was setting up for a cookout when I arrived. Some of them were grumbling that their scoutmaster was making them sweep up the small interpretive center for the battle.
The historical tour of the day culminated in a fun visit to the Fort Delaware colonial museum. I saw a demonstration of colonial blacksmithing, clothing, and the firing of a period cannon (the best part).
By this time it was the mid afternoon and I got out my map to start looking for campsites. I figured on setting up camp at a New York state park somewhere up in the Finger Lakes region.
But that never happened. As I headed up Highway 17 towards Binghamton, a few drops of rain hit my windshield. I thought about how my tent was still damp from the night before, and the idea of setting up an already damp tent while it was raining did not appeal to me.
So I fumbled for my motel guide, and decided that it was still raining when I got to Binghamton, I would check into a motel.
For a while it seemed the rain had disappeared. But it was only a trick. As I passed downton Binghamton on the freeway, the sky suddenly grew very dark, as dark as I have ever seen it in the day time on a summer afternoon. It felt more like an hour after sundown.
Then the heavens opened up and the rain just poured and poured, so that it was almost impossible to drive. I figured this was the sign I was looking for. I was just a mile from the exit I wanted, and within a half hour, I had pulled off and had checked into the local Motel 6, which had a very good rate.
It was my first night indoors in almost two weeks. I wasn't happy about breaking my string of thirteen nights in a row of camping (only one day short of last fall's personal record), but in reality I was glad to be indoors and take a long shower, and relax on a proper bed.
Plus, of course, it gave me a chance to see another movie.
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