{"id":13460,"date":"2013-10-26T22:00:13","date_gmt":"2013-10-27T02:00:13","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/capitalcitiesusa.org\/?p=13460"},"modified":"2024-12-04T18:00:34","modified_gmt":"2024-12-04T23:00:34","slug":"gravel-sucking-trucks","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/capitalcitiesusa.org\/?p=13460","title":{"rendered":"Gravel Sucking Trucks"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"\"

I met with Sandi in Providence. She visited all 50 state capitols before she was 25.
Now she’s going for 50 countries before she’s 50!
We celebrated as she returned from the 40th one.<\/p><\/div>\n

Linda<\/em> Burton posting from Providence, Rhode Island <\/i>\u2013 Life is full of the unexpected. For instance, I didn\u2019t plan to be working from the edge of the bathtub this Saturday morning. Yet here I sit, laptop on my lap, door closed to the outside world. Now, why is that? Because, just outside my window, just a few feet from my workdesk, is a gravel-sucking truck. And that truck is doing what it was designed to do. It is sucking gravel off the roof of my hotel. The manager explained. \u201cI know it\u2019s noisy, but we have to get the re-roofing done before winter sets in. We have to remove the gravel in order to put down a new layer of tar.\u201d Well, I \"26<\/a>understand that. So I\u2019ll spend the day exploring Providence, no prob. \u201cYou\u2019ll be done soon?\u201d was my plaintive question. Ah no, the work continues through next Wednesday. The gravel-sucking truck will be replaced by a tar-spreading truck. Swapping noise\u00a0for the\u00a0nose-burning smell of hot tar? I’d rather adjust life plans. Instead of spending another day with my friend Sandi; instead of leisurely wandering Water Place Park in downtown Providence; instead of having Sunday brunch at CAV as planned; I’ll shorten my Providence stay and move \"26<\/a>ahead to Hartford. I\u2019ll use today to pack, and I\u2019ll use today to summarize. I have company in this tiny bathroom. Alex and Jack\u00a0crouched in the tub, watching me. If the sound of gravel rattling through a giant metal tube before crashing into\u00a0the metal truck bed is deafening to me, I can only imagine how\u00a0excruiating it must be to the cat\u2019s sensitive ears. Suddenly I realized \u2013 90% of the Journey Across America is done!<\/em> \u201cSo Alex,\u201d I said, slipping into interview mode, \u201cwhat\u2019s your favorite part of the Journey<\/i> so far?\u201d<\/p>\n

\"26<\/a>Cats don\u2019t have smile muscles, but they do have expressive eyes. \u201cThis last part, not so much,\u201d is the message I received. \u201cBut we did like Augusta,\u201d Jack blinked, in an afterthought. “And remember the clever elephant towel in the hotel?” Creature comforts and\u00a0special touches\u00a0are important, and impact us more than we like to admit. It\u2019s true, the New England states\u00a0posed some problems for us, both in economy, and in convenience. Hotel rates were sky-rocket high compared with every other \"26<\/a>state so far (except Hawaii and Alaska); pet-friendly hotels were scarce; what rooms I found were outdated, and small. Except, as Jack reminded me, the Comfort Inn in Augusta, Maine. We had two spacious corner rooms there; the cats could watch for moose in the woods to the back, or take a sunny sofa nap. The hotel was barely a mile from downtown, and the capitol; and access in and out was a breeze. The front desk staff put a morning newspaper aside for me \"26<\/a>each day; the breakfast room staff would cook up fresh cinnamon waffles, if I asked. And for lunch and dinner when I wanted to stay close, there was a great restaurant just next door. I only had two problems in Augusta; the hotel had no laundry facilities, and every road in town was dug up for pipelines because natural gas is coming to Maine. \u201cIt will be better, in the end,\u201d was repeated often, with a sigh, as people dealt with orange cones, blocked streets, and rutted roads.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe didn\u2019t even get to stay in Montpelier and Concord,\u201d Jack reminded me, via cat telepathy. That\u2019s right. Someone in Montpelier had boasted to me \u201cWe\u2019re proud not to have \u201cchains\u201d \"26<\/a>here, that\u2019s what makes Montpelier Montpelier. We\u2019re unique.\u201d That uniqueness put me 35 miles away in a Burlington pet-friendly chain; I was grateful to find anything, but our room was horribly outdated, and had the sour smell of dog. Alex and Jack never found a comfort zone; no amount of Febreze could make it right. On top of that, we were rousted from the building twice in one night due to a faulty sensor on the fire alarm. Knowing Alex\u2019s propensity for diving under the bed \"26<\/a>when he hears loud noises, I grabbed him immediately and threw him into the big carrier before cramming Jack in right behind; that meant I had to drag 35 pounds of cat and carrier down the hall and out the back door, to a safe distance away in the dark parking lot. I\u2019d meant to set the carrier in the car and let them out, but alas, in the haste and clanging noise at 2:30 AM, I came away with the camera that was sitting near the door, but not the car keys. I flunked Evacuation 101.<\/p>\n

My pet-friendly hotel in Manchester, New Hampshire was only fifteen miles or so from \"26<\/a>Concord, but the choice of road to get there gave me (a) a toll road or (b) an insanely trafficked road. Either way, it wasn\u2019t an enjoyable drive back and forth, and we had several days of blinding rain. The Manchester hotel was much more spacious than Burlington\u2019s; and fairly recently updated, but a circle of dog hair had gone unnoticed by housekeeping; a collie, perhaps, had curled beside the bed each night it stayed. It took an enterprising young man with a hand vac about half an hour to sweep it up, at my request. They had plenty of newspapers available every morning, stacked in the lobby, and in the breakfast area. But I \"26<\/a>had to grab one and go back to the quietness of my room to read; they insisted on playing 70\u2019s disco music in the public spaces, volume LOUD. \u201cWhy the music?\u201d I asked politely. \u201cIt\u2019s the rule from corporate,\u201d was the answer. \u201cAll LaQuintas are required to play the sound track they provide.\u201d \u201cBut I just stayed in a LaQuinta that didn\u2019t have a soundtrack playing,\u201d I replied. \u201cOh no, you didn\u2019t,\u201d I was told. What can you answer to that? (I did! You didn\u2019t! I did! You didn\u2019t! Did too! Did not!)<\/p>\n

\"26<\/a>I was equally \u201cup against the argumentative wall\u201d in my Boston hotel, when I protested the lack of microwave and fridge in my room. \u201cNo LaQuintas have microwave and fridge,\u201d the manager said. \u201cBut I\u2019ve had them in every LaQuinta for the last year,\u201d I replied \u201cOh no, you haven\u2019t,\u201d she said. (Did too! Did not!)<\/p>\n

I had a corner room in Boston, with a lovely golden tree outside, overlooking the\u00a0parking lot. But it was so small one arm of the \"26<\/a>chair touched the window and the other arm pressed against the bed; the suitcases stacked against the wall blocked access to the desk. I feared stepping on a cat; there was nowhere for any of us to be. I resented the expense of the place; it cost more than Honolulu, where I\u00a0could sit\u00a0on my balcony and gaze at the Pacific Ocean; it cost more than the Alaskan lodge, where I had three \"26<\/a>rooms and a full kitchen, with Mt Juneau and its awesome waterfalls\u00a0right outside the window.\u00a0In Boston,\u00a0it cost $50 to go downtown, whether I took a cab, or whether I drove and parked. The whole thing wore me out.<\/p>\n

So here I am in Warwick, Rhode Island, not too far from Providence; but far enough that I can\u2019t walk around the city in an easy-flowing amble, relaxed. No, I\u2019m sitting on the edge of my bathtub, hiding from a gravel-sucking truck. \u201cWhat on earth are we doing?\u201d I said to the cats. Alex appeared to be \u201cin the zone;\u201d that catatonic state cats morph into when they don\u2019t want to think about the world.<\/p>\n

\"26<\/a>\u201cWe are looking for what\u2019s good in America,\u201d Jack replied. \u201cIt says that on the back of the Scion. Every place has problems. It\u2019s our job to look past them. Anybody can complain. But we decided a long time ago we won\u2019t sink down into the whiny pot, remember?\u201d With that, he stood up and stretched; he took on his Halloween-cat look, back arched, tail high; a big black cat who always brings me luck. He jumped out of the tub then, and sat down in front of me, yawning and licking his face, a sure sign he was ready for his favorite crunchy treats. One lone white whisker\u00a0drooped comically\u00a0down to the side. \u201cNow, summarize,\u201d he said. \u201cWe\u2019re just finishing our 45th capital city. How great is that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\"26<\/a>Pretty great, I have to admit. According to my chart, I\u2019ve traveled 1,354 miles in the last 51 days, the least of any segment of the trip; New England is a tight-knit space. But all in all, the miles add up to 29,117 traveled in 607 days. An interesting statistic; how many times \u201caround the world\u201d is that? I looked it up. Hmmm, if I followed the equator from one point all the way around to where I began, that would add up to about 24,900 miles. You might say I\u2019ve been around the world; for sure I\u2019ve lived in 90% of our grand and glorious states. Odds are I\u2019d encounter a few gravel-sucking trucks once in a \"26<\/a>while. For sure, the good has far outweighed the bad. \u201cYou lucky duck!\u201d I said. \u201cYou lucky cats!\u201d<\/p>\n

I dug through all the negative thoughts rattling around in my head like the gravel in that truck. What have I loved about Montpelier, Augusta, Concord, Boston, and Providence? The New England states. Historical. Colorful. Hardy. Independent. Strong. Qualities to be admired, yes. The hillsides everywhere are blazing red and gold right now; the spirit is high; the air is crisp. I\u2019ll summarize.<\/p>\n

\"26<\/a>Montpelier (left<\/em>) \u2013 I loved the green velvet chairs in the capitol, inviting a sit in the legislative chambers, at the front if you like; Sunday\u2019s culinary brunch at NECI; the Rock of Ages marble works; the Morse Farm Maple Sugar Shack; the tiny town and mountain surround.<\/p>\n

\"26<\/a>Augusta (right<\/em>) \u2013 I loved the capitol balcony and the rocking chairs, looking across the sweep of the hills; the old Fort and the campfire smoke; the moose warnings on every road (though nary a moose did I see); the beaches and the mountains near; the absolutely everything.<\/p>\n

\"26<\/a>Concord (left<\/em>) \u2013 I loved the little girl in the yellow dress, dancing on the capitol square; the footprint left by Robert Frost; the stone walled farms and paths through snowy woods, the hardy granite soils and souls; the wind and rain and bottom-line tenacity.<\/p>\n

\"26<\/a>Boston (right<\/em>) \u2013 I loved the Boston Common (who would not?); the River Charles, and Harvard Square; the cemeteries with Franklin names; the beans, the cod, the accent that turns hard to hod; the sailing ships, the sea; the houses with the black enamel doors on classy Beacon Street.<\/p>\n

\"26<\/a>Providence (left<\/em>) \u2013 I loved the downtown rivers, and Water Place and Water Fire; the steep hills dotted with\u00a0steeples, and houses,\u00a0and\u00a0the Ivy League university called Brown; the massive capitol square; the joy of meeting Sandi, who\u2019s been to 50 capitols and now is going for the world.<\/p>\n

I opened the bathroom door and headed towards the noise of the gravel-sucking truck, grabbed a suitcase, and began to pack.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Linda Burton posting from Providence, Rhode Island \u2013 Life is full of the unexpected. For instance, I didn\u2019t plan to be working from the edge of the bathtub this Saturday morning. Yet here I sit, laptop on my lap, door closed to the outside world. Now, why is that? Because, just outside my window, just […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[4587,1732,1735,1734,1733,1736],"tags":[3094,2937,3097,2848,2852,2929,3096,2930,2936,3095,2934,1793,2933,2931,3098,2935,2325,2932,2928,2927],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/capitalcitiesusa.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13460"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/capitalcitiesusa.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/capitalcitiesusa.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/capitalcitiesusa.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/capitalcitiesusa.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=13460"}],"version-history":[{"count":82,"href":"https:\/\/capitalcitiesusa.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13460\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":15366,"href":"https:\/\/capitalcitiesusa.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13460\/revisions\/15366"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/capitalcitiesusa.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=13460"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/capitalcitiesusa.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=13460"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/capitalcitiesusa.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=13460"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}