9-30-2025 Conway, NH

On the last evening before we left Boston, Rob found the nicest little restaurant, D’Parma, tucked away in the tight, stacked neighborhood in Winthrop.  What a little diamond in the rough.  This is Italian on the hoof.  There are about 15 tables and there were maybe 7 people in all who spoke English.  The chefs didn’t speak English, either, and the food and wine were perfectly squisito!  A very nice way to say, “Arrivederci, Boston.”

 

Lindy on the patio

Rob sips a toonie in the sunset
on the patio of the Scenic Inn

We settled in Conway, NH at the lovely Scenic Inn.  On our first night in the little town, we had dinner on the outdoor patio at the Almost There Saloon where our waitress told us about the drive up to Mount Washington.  She advised, “Oh, you don’t want to drive up there.  It is so steep!  It’s like straight up!  People come back down with their cars smoking.  You can drive part way up and then ride the cog train the rest of the way to the top.  But the wind!  Be ready for the cold wind!”  Well!  The hook was set!

 

Yesterday, we drove the road up to the gate where the man collecting money (Yes, bring money.  God’s wonders are not free.) said we were on the wrong side of the mountain to ride the cog train.  That was more than an hour away from where we were.  This road is called the, “Auto Road.”  The man showed Rob how to get the Jeep into Manual 1 gear for the trip back down and told us to stay in that one or our brakes would be smokin.’  And we were off like a prom dress.  Hey, we’re in a Jeep, we can do this!

 

Well!  The drive up the mountain is not for the timid.  Rob did all of the driving.  I’d like to say I was navigator if there is such a thing on a road just slightly wider than the Jeep but what I was really doing was planning my memorial service.  Even Rob showed a modicum of emotion:  Fright.  It was not just narrow with no shoulder dropping off to nowhere but the winds were gusty and blowing the Jeep around.  Vehicles coming down only complicated these issues.  Frankly, we were scared shitless. 

The arrow points out the lower
part of the road up.  Shadow of
Rob hanging on to my britches.
Fingers are mine with a death-grip
on my camera.  Stay back from the ledge!

 

For the record, the highest wind ever recorded since they started recording wind speed occurs on this mountain.  The highest wind ever recorded in the whole world (not kidding) is 231 mph on this exact mountain!  We were hoping not to experience that.  After a harrowing drive, we arrived at the top of the mountain, ostensibly to view the red leaves on the horizon (Isn’t that what this trip is all about?!).  It was cold!  Out with the heavy jackets and cameras!  I couldn’t set up a selfie because the wind would have blown my camera away.  It was a lower wind speed today, 35 mph with 58 mph gusts.  When I disembarked the Jeep, I hung on to anything I could grip.  I wanted to take a picture of the view of the squiggly road we had just driven and Rob grabbed onto my britches to keep me from blowing away.  I had a death grip on my camera.  There is a scientific observatory and visitor’s center at the very tippy top where there is a vending machine for toilet paper and throw-up bags.  There is an underwear store and a brakes and tranny repair shop.  (Just kidding about all that but seriously, folks…)  Bottom line:  It was beautiful and scary.  Chalk up another, “Never again,” road.

The view of the red mountains.  Pictures
don't really do justice.  We're backed up
against a big rock.  "The wind can't blow
us over this one, can it, Rob?"

A drop-off up ahead.  Gulp.

So cold and windy it took my breath away.

A death-grip on the Jeep.

 

Today is September 30^th.  We are at the Burke Mountain Ski Resort in Burke, VT surrounded by… wait for it…. red leaves.  Our wonderful patio looks out on the ski lifts.  In Boston, people were in shorts and flip flops.  Now, it’s blue jeans and flannel shirts.  I brought my down jacket and I wasn’t far off the mark!  Time to wind down, have a toonie, then head down to the restaurant.

9-28-2025 Boston, MA Part II

 Trolley rides and harbor cruises are available in the city to give one an overview of the highlights.  We did both adventures.  Boston, as you can expect, is rife with history, dating back to pre-USA days.  The first Puritans to colonize the Boston area did so in 1630.  They came here to escape persecution by their mother country and live where they could enjoy their right to religious liberty.  (Mary Dyer was excluded from that one.)

 

Among the more recent (1700s) historic sites is The Old North Church.  The Sons of Liberty decided on a plan to alert the colonists of the arrival of British troops by raising a lantern into the bell tower:  One (lantern) if by land, two (lanterns) if by sea.  When Paul Revere saw the lanterns, that is when he went on his midnight ride.  “The British are coming!  The British are coming!”  Paul Revere’s home is near the Old North Church.  (Aside:  Paul Revere had 2 wives.  Each one gifted him with 8 kids, then died.  I don’t blame them!)

The Old North Church
and Paul Revere's statue

 

The Old State House is also an historic monument.  The balcony on the front of the hall is where the Declaration of Independence was read aloud to the citizens for the first time by Col. Thomas Crafts.  The tradition continues to this day.

Side view of The Old
State House.  

The Old State House.  The
little white balcony is where
The Declaration of Independence
was read out loud for the
first time in 1776.

 

T

The harbor cruise was so pleasant.  It was warm and sunny and we sailed right under Logan International Airport’s final approach pattern.  How cool was that?!  The tour guide provided many details about the harbor and its history.  Boston as we know it today was originally about 75% under water.  There were 3 foothills locally and the citizens gradually leveled one or two of them and dragged in tons of landfill and created Boston and Boston Harbor as we know it today.  Even the airport is constructed on landfill.

Ah, the sound of
jet engines overhead!

Happily cruisin.'

Rob enjoying the sun and breeze.

 

The USS Constitution sits quietly moored at one of the piers.  Her hull is constructed of 26” thick hard oak.  The Constitution played a major role in the War of 1812. (That’s the one where the British decided to take one more shot at taming those unruly, rural bumpkin colonists and bring them back into the fold.)  During the naval conflict, cannonballs were fired at our ships, including the Constitution.  They fairly bounced off her hull causing one of the British warriors to shout and call her, “Old Ironsides!”  Old Ironsides is still seaworthy but in order to retain this certification, she must sail a minimum of 1 nautical mile/year.  So the tugs pull her out and she sails out to Castle Island on Independence Day.  There she fires off a 21-gun salute, then sails back to her nest at the harbor, facing the opposite direction so that she will be weathered evenly on all sides.  In her military history, she fought in more than 40 naval battles and never lost one.  She is lovingly cared for and doted upon by her babysitters.

Old Ironsides, saving the republic
one war at a time.  She's a
national treasure.

 

In the present, Boston is a hornet’s nest to us country desert rats.  The traffic is insane, even on Sunday.  Impatient people drive in the oncoming lanes, pass other cars and then turn right.  If every parking space is taken up along the curbs, which is the usual case, they simply stop their cars in the moving lanes, park them and start a new row.  It took us an hour each way to drive into Boston from Winthrop (4 miles or so).  The three and four story houses are stacked up tight-pack mile after mile along the narrow streets, one driveway’s width between them.  We were horrified and bewildered by the apparent nonchalance of the crowds of people who seem to think that this insanity is quite normal.  They even seem to enjoy it.  With all its historic beauty and majesty, we are not sorry to depart Boston.  On to Conway, NH.  Smaller, quainter and user-friendly.

How they live.... miles of this.

These are some of the highest end
"homes," in the city.  No, thanks anyway.

9-26-2025 Boston, MA

 Boston, MA, you gasp?!  What the Hell…?!  Let me explain.  I have a bucket list, same like many others.  About 40 years ago or more, a McDonnell Douglas friend Hal Beemer recommended that we go to see the fall colors in the east.  They call it, “leaf-peeping.”  I call it, “looking at red leaves.”  All that said, I mentally put it on my bucket list.  Another adventure to check off!  So here we are, decades later, traveling across the country to look at red leaves.

 

But first, there was the airport.  We were easily early for our departure.  Then came the announcement:  Very bad weather in Boston, our departure time is delayed by an hour.  Fair enough.  If the pilot doesn’t want to fly, neither do I!  Then came another announcement.  Very, very bad weather…. Another hour delay.  This went on and on.  Delta began to suggest that if we wanted to change our flight plans, they would reimburse our charges.  Why would we change our flight plans?  If one plane isn't flying into BOS, are any of the others?  And who would fly on it?!  Furthermore, where were our bags?!  So we sat.  Then Mother Nature bought our dinner courtesy of Delta Airlines.  No fair to Delta but PR is what it is.  Obviously, all other planes destined for BOS were delayed as well and so it was mayhem when we finally arrived after a 4 ½ hour delay and a 5 ½ hour flight.  At 1AM, the rental car desks were a sea of tired, crabby people and screaming babies.  At 3:30 AM, we finally lay our heads down at our B & B, a little cross-eyed and whooped.

A typical home in the
neighborhood.  One question:
Who cleans it?!

Our B & B, Chateau sur Mer

 

Nevertheless, time to rise and shine and get on with the show!  Beantown was established in 1630 by the pilgrims;  a bunch of rugged, stubborn individuals ferociously protective of their freedoms.  The Crown still owned and controlled the colony as long as it stayed out of the colonists’ hair.  But in 1773, an armada of 40 tons of tea sailed into the Boston harbor with a $2M tax (in today’s dollars) payable to the Crown attached.  The Sons of Liberty, headed up by a hothead named Sam Adams, said enough is enough.  No taxation without representation!  They stormed down to the shore and threw the whole shiteree into the deep blue in a move that is now known as the Boston Tea Party.  Good Ol’ Sam Adams was good for more than just a good lager!  This event was a pivotal event that led to the dissolution of the colony’s ties to England.  The revolutionary war was imminent.

Three ships like this replica, The
Dartmouth, Eleanor and Beaver,
sailed into this harbor hauling a
total of 40 tons of tea.

Our hero, Sam Adams, at the
entrance to the Tea Party
Museum

Cargo ships like this one
sailed into Boston Harbor
on a regular basis.

 

Religion was a big deal back in the 1600s.  The Puritans were too strict for some women who weren’t allowed to even pray aloud in church.  Mary Dyer had had enough.  She moved away and became a Quaker.  Then, in a brash move, she moved back to Boston.  The Puritan people banished her and she left but came back.  This happened 3 times.  The final time she came back, they warned her that if she didn’t leave, she’d be hanged in the big central park.  She hanged.  This all happened before freedom of religion became fashionable.

Dinner at The Wharf
If you go hungry in Boston,
it's on you!  There are
a million restaurants!

Bronze of Mary Dyer
on the grounds of the
MA capitol bldg, also
called the State House.

Lunch on the cobblestone streets.

 

The New State House in Boston had a big concrete dome.  Paul Revere, a coppersmith, thought it should be copper plated.  After that, it was decided to cover the copper with gold leaf.  But when WWII happened, the gold leaf was painted gray for camouflage.  How they got all that gray paint off of the gold leaf is beyond me but the dome is now back to its gleaming gold beauty.

-To be continued-

There are miles and miles
of tunnels under Boston.

The MA State House

8-22-2025 Hawthorne, NV

Since we’ve stopped here many times before, I thought I could get away with no more t-logs.  However, we keep discovering and learning new things about which to tell stories.

 

In the beginning, the main ammunition manufacturing facility in the US was in New Jersey, the Lake Denmark Ammunition Depot.  In 1926, it exploded and it was necessary to find a new site.  By 1928, that site was established and ground-breaking took place in Hawthorne, NV.  By 1930, ammunitions were being shipped and stored and the area was protected by the Marines.  Over time the facility was expanded and it is considered the largest ammo depot in the world with 2,000 buildings, 2 million square feet of ammo storage, 200 miles of railroad tracks and a boundary of 250 square miles.  At its peak during WWII, employment was nearly 6,000 military and civilian personnel.  They built bombs, torpedoes, guided missile warheads, depth charges, mines and cartridges.

 

Now we get to the next part of the story.  Like Hanford (north of Richland), there was a, “reservation,” for civilians outside the military base.  The town was called Babbitt.  It was occupied by thousands of patriots from all over the USA during and after WWII who were employed at the ammunition factories on the base.  It was a regular city with thousands of duplexes, movie theaters, saloons, a bowling alley, medical facilities and so on.  The young women who lived in Babbitt were invited and transported by Jeeps to the base for big dances and parties with the sailors.  Yes, it was a naval base at the time.  Nearby Walker Lake was used to train pilots to drop bombs and torpedoes.  A portion of Walker Lake is still cordoned off and protected from people who might want to dive and explore because some of the explosives that were dropped did not detonate so there are potentially live explosives in the water.

Babbitt babes at a USO party.
Note the TIME Magazine in the
back with FDR's picture on the cover.

 

Babbitt was active until the late 1980s.  At that time, it was abandoned, decommissioned, razed and plowed under, like Hanford.  Not a molecule of Babbitt exists today.  And here’s where we come in.  Our favorite RV park, Whiskey Flats, sits on what used to be Babbitt acreage.  In fact, the park sits right on top of the Strategic Air Command radar station!  Here we thought Hawthorne was just a waypoint with a cool RV park, a good pizza parlor and an ordnance museum and not much else.  Instead, we learned all this new stuff! 

Best pizza on earth for Rob

Lovelock Pizza's work of art
for Lindy

 

Whiskey Flats RV Park and
surrounds

Entrance to Whiskey Flats

The base is still active but it is now Army.  The function of its factories is to, “demil,” explosives, meaning to render them inert.  It is still, however, the world’s largest and heavily-guarded ammo dump facility.

 

Two years ago, Rob and I spent time documenting, printing and framing Dad DeLaMare’s pictures and list of assignments during his military career.  We had all of his military duds dry cleaned;  his fatigues, dress blues, whites and tan linens.  Then we drove everything to Hawthorne and donated it to the Hawthorne Ordnance Museum.  We also donated a sum of money (with Boeing company-match) to the museum to build a display cabinet for Dad’s memorabilia.  We stopped in at the museum now, 2 years later, to see what progress they had made along those lines.  Sadly, Dad’s duds are still hanging in plastic bags.  However we found his framed pictures and dress hats on display and are somewhat happy about that.  We did give them a little grief and a nudge to get off of top-dead-center and build a proper display cabinet.  We’ll spin the plates on this and check on it the next time we blow through Hawthorne.  Dad retired as a Lt. Colonel USA, 4^th Armored Division.   He served in WWII, Korea and Viet Nam and we are profoundly proud and grateful for his service.

Dad's framed pictures and info and dress hats.

Dad's unis.  Bottom row, 
the three bags on the right.

 

This is a picture in the museum
of a replica of Bin Laden's compound. 
It is on the Army base and the
Special Forces guys use it
to practice invasions.  We are not allowed
on the base but they said you can
see it from the road.  We didn't.

Camel saddle used in
Afghanistan.

This tank was purchased
from Canada by the museum
for $135,000.

Photo of a B52 dropping
cluster bombs, Viet Nam
War era.

Cluster bomb.
Each one of those
blue balls is a grenade.

Gestapo helmet, WWII era

These two shadow boxes were
found at Goodwill.  The soldier
had won 2 Congressional
Medals of Honor.

Napalm bomb, Viet Nam War era

Today, Aug. 23rd, we are on the final leg of the summer trip, heading for the homestead at 1640.  We say, “thank you,” to all of you for traveling along and sharing our stories.  Till next time, love to all.

8-19-2025 Likely, CA

Here we are, camped at Likely Place Golf and RV Resort.  The town itself is small, consisting of a post office, a general store and this resort.  It’s a really nice resort, actually, if you golf, which we don’t.  There are many activities including golf, bocce ball and golf.  And there’s a big, serene, quiet lake for paddleboarding and 13 pickleball courts.  OK, I lied about the lake and the pickleball courts. 

 

The town of Likely was a bustling little community back in 1878 and was originally named South Fork, as it lies near the south fork of the Pit River.  There were two grocery stores, a hotel, restaurant, saloon, leather shop, a peat moss plant and a post office.  Ranching and the lumber industry were the heavy hitters.  Back then, the USPO wanted all towns to have short, unique names.  (That wouldn’t explain Escanaba and Winnemucca.)  The townfolk could not agree on a name but lore has it that somebody looked around and said, “Is it likely that this town will ever have a name?”  Another replied, “Well….  Let’s call it Likely.”   When the railroad was established in Alturas, 20 miles north, it brought on the demise of Likely except for a few hardy souls.  Today, those hardy souls add up to 63 belly buttons.

 

I wanted to drop a card in the mail and I asked Kathy if the RV office had a mail drop.  She replied sadly, “No, but there’s a post office in town.”  I asked if she had a map of the town so we could find the PO.  She said, “A map?!”  She tilted her head a little and smiled.  Here's why:

Beautiful downtown Likely Post Office

Metropolitan Likely, CA

The jail and the saloon in Likely.
Not operative, of course.

 

As I mentioned, Alturas, CA is 20 miles north and became the focal point for the Nevada-California-Oregon Railroad.  It serviced the lumber, farm and ranch industry, primarily, also a few passengers.  Alturas is a Spanish word that means, “summit,” or, “height.”  I assume that this means that the town was built at the top of the highest point in the local foothills but I could be wrong.  It was initially established in 1879 as a trading post and supply center;  the railroad augmented that and it still serves the community of 2,715 souls.

A large Basque restaurant sits on the north side of town.  Being big fans of the whole Basque culinary experience, we decided to retrace our steps 20 miles and travel to Alturas for a meal at the Brass Rail Basque Restaurant.  It was 3 o’clock.  The establishment does not open until 5:30.  Ugh.  This little cloud had a silver lining, however.  An Italian chef created a fine dinner for us at nearby Antonio’s Ristorante, a little hidden gem.  Sometimes, what seems like a frog is actually a handsome prince!  (Not that I have anything against frogs.  After all, it’s not that easy being green.)

Antonio's in Alturas

Lasagna Boy!

 

The Elks Lodge in Alturas used to be
the NV-CA-OR Railroad Depot.

Inside the beautiful Elks Lodge

Tomorrow is our second longest drive of the summer trip, 278 miles.  It’s OK, we got this.  Our homing beacons are going off and the doctors need our business.

VIVA CALIFORNIA!
(We didn't gas up here!)

8-16-2025 Burns, OR Part II

Yes, we passed through here on the outbound leg of this trip.  But when the distance between two camps is too far, a midpoint is necessary and this was it.  I suspect that many others in this park think the same way.  They come in for the night and the next morning, they are outta here.  It’s a midway overnight stop.  We’ll be here 3 nights, though.  Just a decompression stop.  Nothing to do here, really, so we’ll fix a few small Noobee issues, pick up a few groceries, have a beer at Central Pastime (now, one of our fave diners, drive-ins and dives) and do the laundry.  Slow it down a little.

This little rascal lives next door
to our Burns camp.

 

It was an awful, squiggly drive from Pasco to Burns.  We took the direct route south.  Why?  Because we’ve never been on this road before and we avoid freeways for the back roads whenever possible.  OMG.  We like to switch off driving but when I got behind the wheel, my heart was in my throat.  Yes, the scenery is beautiful, rolling foothills, cattle, horses, hawks, geese, rivers and beautiful, tall trees.  But when you are driving, you don’t dare take your eyes off the road for a nanosecond or you are launched off a cliff.  They will find the remains in about 10 years.  I drove for 10 miles and then turned the wheel back over to My Beloved.  He is very confident and stable.  No problem for him.  Bottom line:  It took us 6 hours to drive 268 miles and Rob was exhausted from driving and I was exhausted from planning my memorial service.  Never again.  (The highway from Durango to Montrose is also a, “Never again highway,” for us.  But you don’t know what you don’t know, right?  “Wisdom is wasted on old people.”)

Some of the scenery was not so
beautiful.  OR seems to be the
mother lode of forest fires.

 

I forgot to tell you a few facts I learned at the Manhattan Project Visitor’s Center in Pasco.  One display was a SADM (Special Atomic Demolition Munition) that was used by our military parachutists during several wars.  It is also known as a, “Backpack nuke,” or a, “Suitcase nuke,” with a capability of 1 kiloton of TNT.  With fuses and all detonation devices included, the pack can weigh up to 150 pounds.  They were primarily used when infiltrating behind enemy lines for blowing up smaller stuff than cities, like bridges, dams and power plants.  The SADM is no longer a part of the armed forces’ arsenal.  Question:  How big is the chute that is necessary for a fully-equipped soldier carrying a 150-pound backpack nuke?!

This is how it's done, folks.  Easy-peasy.

SADM

Next is this:  As you know, Albert Einstein was a central figure at the Los Alamos site and his equation, E=mc2 published in 1905, changed the face of Physics to this day.  E is kinetic energy.  M is mass.  C2 is the speed of light.  “Einstein concluded that because the speed of light is constant, mass and energy are equal.”  Question:  How can mass and energy be equal?  I have a deplorable amount of mass and no energy. 

Good ol' Al.

 

Next stop:  Likely, CA.  I know, I know, CALIFORNIA?!  For shame!  It was on the straightest line home and a reasonable distance.  I didn’t have any choice.  Time to head for home and doctor appointments.