Despite my birth certificate’s claim that I was born smack-dab in the middle of the Great Plains, in my heart, I’m a New England coastal girl.  Like so many others, I am instantly soothed by the feel of ocean breezes, the smell of salt air, and the taste of fried clams and buttery lobster rolls.  Since Day 3 provided us with our first glimpses of the Atlantic, we took it slow and, after a brief inland visit to New Haven, spent the day on the shore.

Yale

Since its inception in 1701, Yale has played host to countless historic figures.  Nobel laureate Sinclair Lewis, inventor Eli Whitney, and former President Bill Clinton were all Yalies.  Of course, so was fictional television character Rory Gilmore.  Proud of what we’d been able to see at Princeton without the assistance of a guide, we again chose to forego a formal tour and instead wandered around in search of Rory’s favorite haunts.  We posed for pictures at Durfee Hall.  We peered in the windows at the Yale Daily News.  We found evidence of Life & Death Brigade-esque secret societies.  We even rubbed Theodore Dwight Woolsey’s toe.  Leaving campus, we devoured a mid-morning snack in true Gilmore Girls fashion at a nearby restaurant and then headed toward the coast.

Mystic

As we pulled into Mystic, Connecticut, I feared the rumored “charming historic seaport” had become nothing more than a tourist trap.  Once we wound our way past the initial throng of outlet malls, gas stations, and tacky souvenir shops that lined the highway, we found the Mystic I had been hoping to see.  Parking at the Mystic Seaport Museum, we strolled through streets populated by tiny shops and historic homes.  We found the fabled Mystic Pizza, ordered lunch, and discovered that, as the sign proclaims, it really is a “Slice of Heaven.”  Wandering back to the car, we admired (and posed with) public art, we shopped as only the owners of a black lab could at Mystic’s The Black Dog, and we paused to watch the city’s drawbridge go up so boats could pass.  With our bellies full, we again hit the road and eased on down the shore.

Newport

Newport, Rhode Island might well be my all-time favorite city.  Through my pre-trip research, I had learned about several Newport sites I knew we would want to visit.  We stopped first at the absolutely charming International Tennis Hall of Fame.  Housed at the Newport Casino, the site of the first U.S. National Championships, the Hall of Fame is a fascinating place for both tennis lovers (like Charles) and for those less familiar with the sport (like me). 

After a sufficient amount of oohing and ahhing, we walked on toward Newport’s Cliff Walk, a destination I was eagerly anticipating.  About half-way to the Cliff Walk, I noticed my shoe was untied and, spotting a bench in front of a church, stopped to tie it.  As I messed with the laces, Charles said, “Look behind you.”  I followed his instructions and discovered that my untied shoe had led me to the church where John Kennedy and Jacqueline Bouvier were married in September of 1953.  Magic!

Though still recovering from the serendipity of unwittingly and, thanks to my shoelaces, almost literally, stumbling on a Kennedy-related treasure, after a few moments, Charles and I continued toward the Cliff Walk.  We entered the 3.5-mile path at Memorial Boulevard and began one of the most awe-inspiring walks of my life.  Meandering down the trail, we saw crashing waves, steel-blue rocks, wandering vines to our left.  To our right, we saw majestic Victorian mansions (including those that belonged to the Vanderbilts and the Astors) and the beautiful grounds of Salve Regina University.  We continued walking until we reached the public pathway’s terminus, at which point we wove our way through Newport’s beautiful neighborhoods until we arrived at a local dive. After a few hours noshing on seafood and watching yachts float on the waves, we groggily found a hotel and checked in for the night.

We arrived at D.C.’s National (no it is not Ronald Reagan Airport!) late, late at night on the Friday of Labor Day weekend.  While it might seem odd to imagine roadtrippers on an airplane, trust me, it’s a lot easier to cover ten New England / Mid-Atlantic states in ten days if you start your journey not in Houston.  Plus, we had decided that the roadtrip would give us the perfect opportunity to test drive the Prius we were casually talking about purchasing. (Note: This turned out to be a wise move when, a few weeks after our return home, our Lexis met its maker and we were forced to get a new car.  Since we had just learned that we were Prius people, buying a new car to replace the totaled one was a snap.)

Once we figured out how to operate the new-fangled vehicle (there’s no key!) and successfully got the robotic GPS woman to stop shouting directional commands, we set off.  A mere five hours later, after catching a few ZZZs at Charles’ relatives’ house in Arlington  and filling our bellies with Slurpees and donuts from the Balston 7-11, we hit the highway.  By noon, we had made one wrong turn (which led us into the parts of Baltimore where I’m quite certain they filmed Homicide: Life on the Street), quickly found our way back to the highway, and entered  Pennsylvania.  In my typical fashion, I had created an overloaded schedule for our trip and was determined that we would make three stops that day: one in Hershey, one in Valley Forge, and one in Philadelphia.

Hershey

Here’s what you should know about Hershey, Pennsylvania: don’t go there if you don’t like chocolate.  As you pull into the city, every one of your senses becomes the victim of a full-on chocolate assault.  You smell it churning, you see it advertised, you feel it settling on your skin, and if you breathe deeply, you taste it in the air.  I don’t know how it’s possible, but in Hershey, you can even hear chocolate being munched, nibbled, and slurped.

Since we’re not big amusement park people (and since I had us on such a tight schedule), we skipped the roller coasters at Hershey Park and headed directly to Chocolate World, the Hershey company’s combination museum/warehouse-sized gift shop.  There, we were able to eat our combined weights in free samples, have our photo emblazoned on a Hershey’s wrapper, and listen to animatronic cows sing the story of how Hershey’s chocolate is made.  It was heavenly!

Lancaster County

With our second sugar high of the day kicking in, we drove through the beautiful rolling hills of Lancaster County, the heart of the Pennsylvania Dutch Country.  While our “Philadelphia by sundown” goal didn’t give us the time to journey off the beaten path to really explore the region, we did see a few of the Amish out and about in their buggies (unfortunately, we also saw more than a few tacky gift shops hawking Amish-inspired magnets, windsocks, and bumper stickers).

Valley Forge

By late afternoon, we arrived at Valley Forge.  For those of you who’ve forgotten your U.S. History, Valley Forge is the spot where General George Washington and his war-weary troops camped during some of the Revolutionary War’s most brutally cold months.  Now run by the National Park Service, Valley Forge is an outdoor space that houses replicas of the tiny log buildings that provided shelter to the original “New England patriots”.  Once you’ve seen the meager  winter cabins at Valley Forge, it’s hard to complain about how cold it can get in your air-conditioned Houston office.

Philadelphia

Leaving Valley Forge, we drove the remaining few miles into Philadelphia, the final destination of our first day on the road.  Philly doesn’t have the most glowing of reputations, but I found something inspirational in watching the Philadelphia Museum of Art (and its iconic “Rocky Steps”) unfold as we wound our way into the city.  We found the city’s streets easy to navigate (this is something of a miracle when you consider Philadelphia’s size and age) and, in a matter of minutes, pulled up to our hotel.  After checking in and taking a quick exploratory walk around the neighborhood, it was lights out.  The next day’s itinerary had us touring Philadelphia and making it across two more states, and we needed some shut eye…