A different kind of day: the Bronx and New Jersey

Last night I had decided on a different title, “The Lie in ‘Its not the destination, its the journey’’’ but I feel a bit better this morning.  We became lost in the Bronx, and it was quite stressful, to say the least.  I had wanted to route around New York—give it a wide berth—but Don didn’t see any problems with driving right through.  After all, it would cut close to 30 minutes off the drive, which was going to be quite long.  Our plan was to drive through to Maryland.  Well, as I write this, we are camped in Allaire State Park, along the Jersey shore.  We are several hours from Maryland because we spent them in the Bronx.  There was terrible traffic—particularly heading toward the George Washington Bridge.

But the real problem was that Karen routed us on parkways and there are many low bridges.  The clearance was not sufficient for the Tiger and we had to exit from her route.  We had trouble, without maps more detailed than the Michelin Guide, navigating a safe route.  I even called a telephone number listed on the Internet for information about clearances on New York City streets.  The man on the telephone was awfully nice and gave me 5 possible routes (in rapid succession) to exit the city, but the only real help was the message to stay off the parkways and stick to the expressways.  Don managed to get us back onto I-95 south and we made it out of the Bronx and across the northern tip of Manhattan.  

In the meantime we saw lots of the Bronx up close and it was certainly educational.  We don’t have places like this on the west coast.  Certainly not in Alaska.  In California, we knew enough to steer clear.  By the time we were out of the city it was quite late, and we decided to spend the night in New Jersey.  It has parks along the shore.  We were surprised to find an enormous salt marsh and lots of open space very near New York City.  We had trouble finding the campground because it was dark and we did not arrive until after it was dark.  Then, quite late, around 10, we found a sign on the restroom, declaring that pets were not permitted in the park.  My plan is to shower before Don walks the dogs so I won't miss my shower if we are asked to leave. 

So, we do not have many pictures of the journey.  And we are relieved to be on the south side of New York City. 

 I should mention our morning in Mystic, although it seems so long ago.

 It is another old and charming New England fishing town.  It has preserved much of its history in the seaport, and you can pay to see an old shipyard, boats, and other artifacts from an earlier era.  We walked around and went into the very nice museum shop but did not go into the attraction.  It really looked like you would need at least half a day.

We had a lot of miles to cover and it was raining

hard. 

219 hellish miles; Farmingdale, N.J., N 40°10.001’ W074°08.574’