Total Miles ~ 1,245

Day 9: Woburn to Concord to Portland

I began this leg of the “return” trip by heading back further into Massachusetts to visit a friend. We chose a place in the middle of generally somewhere and ended up having a nice lunch. Right before that (and before my $10 slice of carrot cake) was a visit to the Sleepy Hollow Cemetery.

No, not that Sleepy Hollow, but still cool. This one featured Author’s Ridge, the final resting place of several famous authors and poets, chief among them Ralph Waldo Emerson, Louisa May Alcott, and Henry David Thoreau. There’s also a war memorial designed by the same architect of the Lincoln Memorial.

Still digesting that cake, I doubled back and headed to Portland, Maine. I needed seafood to eat.

And I did, however when I got there, I was stunned to find that almost all the restaurants were closing very soon, and that I had a choice: hit up the food and drink, or choose one place to eat and preserve my energy for a morning hike, which was always part of the plan that I missed doing in the Poconos.

Before I got to that conundrum, I needed my sweet, sweet lobster. Shoutout to Luke’s Lobster on the Portland Pier.

I went with the lobster roll and the lobster bisque (not pictured). I didn’t get the full lobster because a) the place was closing soon and 2) the lobster roll was already 6 oz, approximately a tail’s worth anyway. Why go through all that effort to get messy when for less money they’ll put it in a sandwich for me?

I washed it all back with an Allagash White. A great beer that was ironically no longer available to me after this one as the brewing was not open on Tuesdays, and like I mentioned before, the place was closing for the day.*

*Before you check Google, yes, they're open til like 10pm most days in season. Because I went in May, it was still pretty cold out and their summer hours weren’t in effect. I got there around 6 and they closed at 7. The breweries in the area, were closing fast, too.

So, I made the choice. Let’s hit as many of them as I can.

Now, this is where I switch from trip mode to goin’ out mode, so most of my photos ended up on Instagram or Snapchat. I hit a couple places before Maine Craft Distilling, and a few places after Blyth & Burrows.

From Luke’s I went to Brickyard Hollow. Less than impressed by service, beer, overall aesthetic, it admittedly wasn’t a great start. Also, they charged $3 for a sticker. That’s dumb.

Next up, Shipyard.

This was one of those, “in hindsight I should’ve stayed” places. I liked the beer, they just started a trivia night (even though they were closing in an hour) and it was still a short walk from the hotel. Did I stay? No, of course not. I got my flight, helped the team next to me answer a football question right, then hoofed it up the hill because I can’t tell elevation from Google Maps.

Cresting the city hill, the outdated map gave me a few places that were permanently closed, one that was actually closed, and one that was open, but newly named.

Hardshore Distilling.

I got a cocktail named the Bee’s Knees with gin and honey. Tasted great. They had wooden Adirondack chairs. I love those! But they were closing in 11 minutes. Onto the next one.

Maine Craft Distilling.

I had an odd drink (above) that required me to pour a lemonade syrup into an elderflower gin to make a Mystic Lady. I paired it with the most gentrified phrasing I’ve ever read — halved yolks topped with crispy ham.

Or as normal people call them, deviled eggs with bacon.

Around the corner and down a hill, I walked to a beer garden called the Portland Zoo. In the beer line I struck up a conversation with new best friends of the next hour who were also at the Boston Calling festival. For the life of me I can’t remember the husband’s name because he was fairly bland, but his wife’s name was Sarah Brown. Except she was from New Zealand so it sounded like Sah-rugh Broon.

At this time of the night, dark essentially, we ran out of breweries. Logically, everyone needed to head back into the hotel row of the city. After some studious Googling and input from the Zoo bartender, we settled on Blyth & Burrow, which sported a speakeasy vibe, although the actual speakeasy part of it was …closed on Tuesdays.

This is where I parted ways with the Kiwi and her hubby. The bartender at B&B told us of another place if I could find it. It was an actual secret bar, despite having a Google Business Profile and plenty of reviews online. But first I had to get there.

The address of the bar is the address for the whole building. And I got lost.

The building had a bar, and I was told it was all cash, so I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw an ATM at the door.

It was not the place. It was just a generic bar called Pat’s Pizza. I sheepishly ordered a Bud Light and got the hell out of there. I turned the corner, checked the address again, and scoped out what I took from Reddit.

I had to walk through a set of red doors.

Well, I looked on, there were reddish gates leading to an alley, so I followed a man through them, thinking we were going to the same place.

And like something out of a damn movie, he suddenly appeared from a second floor balcony saying, “you lookin’ for the secret bar?” Scared out of my mind thinking I fell into this man’s trap, I said yes. “Well, this ain’t it.”

Gee, thanks.

“It’s right around the corner, it’s in the building downstairs.”

Ok, that was actually helpful.

When I got there, through the red doors, I was met with a locker room.

From the gym. I saw before me a set of lockers, a shower unit, a sink, a full length mirror, and a towel rack.

Oh, so it’s one of those places. Armed with experience from the Safe House in Milwaukee, I tried opening a locker. No dice.

Turning the faucet sink. Nothing. What about the mirror?

The towel rack was the door handle.

And now I was in Lincoln’s, a bar themed after the president and Ford’s theater which was oddly disturbing. Everything cost $5 cash, except the tee shirt, which was $10. Two beers later I was off to the hotel.

Well, the Bonfire Country Bar, then the hotel.
I strongly urge anyone who visits Portland, Maine, not to try this. It was maybe 7 places too many.

But of the 10 I did see, I’d go to Luke’s, Blyth & Burrow, and Lincoln’s again. Maybe Shipyard? I didn’t care much for the beer but they had a nice setup and I do love a trivia night.

Day 10: Portland to Brattleboro to Schenectady

Needless to say, I slept in.

I wasn’t hungover, though. The walking, fresh air, and water at every stop after the Zoo helped keep me hydrated for each leg ahead.

I was simply enjoying the nicest hotel of the entire trip. While staying across the street from the ocean in Rhode Island was nice on a leisurely level, this was nice in a pure, “I’m going to spend money on this night because I want to,” level. Plus, the Canopy in Portland gave me a robe. Nobody else gave me a robe.

And the shower head was 8-feet from the ground.

Fresh off an alarmingly good night’s sleep, I knew I couldn’t possibly do what I wanted to do that day — hike Mount Washington.

The two hour drive alone meant i needed to leave by 8 am to make any kind of progress up the mountain and back while preserving the drive time down to Schenectady, NY before a forecasted dark and rainy night.

So, I set for other alternatives I workshopped as backup plans.

First I had to cross the weirdest fucking border road of any state in the Union.

You know, most roads into new states have a sign. Connecticut was the lamest.

But Maine to New Hampshire? No sign. No “Live Free or Die” slogan. Just a simple road over a small river that leads to a gas station and a liquor store with a 2-for-1 special on Twisted Teas.

I should’ve just kept driving to New York.

Instead I went to Mount Major.

Sounds impressive, right?

The views of the 312th tallest peak in New Hampshire would make up for its rather diminutive size-to-name juxtaposition, I thought. I just had to get up there. But I couldn’t. Because it was raining.

When you see a very fit couple roll up in the SUV, get out in full hiking gear, take a few steps up the path, check the maps, and then pop the back hatch open to take off their boots and head home, you know it’s not happening for the novices like me who literally the days before writing this walked into his front lawn bird feeder. I got some nice pictures from the trailhead though!

In addition to the possible trails on the map board was a laminated warning of what to do in case of inclement weather, notably rain. Ideally, one could go up and down the Blue or Yellow trails, or a combination of the two.

In rain, however, it was unsafe to go down either Blue or Yellow due to rockslides. The only safe way would be to descend via the Red trail. This would’ve added an extra 90 minutes to the best of hikers. So, like the couple, I decided to pack it in and head to the New Hampshire-Vermont border.

Where I had some truly amazing food rivaling both Portland and Narragansett.

Aglio e Olio and Mushroom Risotto courtesy of Echo in Brattleboro, VT.

The next 12 miles took almost 45 minutes. Why?

Unpaved roads. Miles and miles of unpaved roads.

Unexpected, surely. Unwarranted, very possibly. Yet, it led to this view. Moreso for just stopping the constant rattling of my car hoping beyond hope that I wouldn’t pop a tire than another scenic viewpoint.

I present the Hogback Mountain Country Store deck’s view of Vermont, New York, and Massachusetts. I recommend viewing some of these on a fuller screen. Breathtaking views. Absolutely worth not hiking up a small mountain and driving on gravel.

Day 11: Schenectady to Cooperstown to Buffalo

This day was all about the Baseball Hall of Fame. Being a Milwaukee Brewers fan, I wasn’t expecting to see a lot. More than the Basketball Hall of Fame for sure, but a lot less than the Football Hall in Canton, which I’ve been to a few times.

But to surprise, there was quite a lot of stuff there. Namely the Hank Aaron exhibit.

Oh, and also the Steroid era exhibit. Gee, thanks Ryan Braun (whose jersey I wore in the building).

If you’re into baseball at all, it’s a must visit town. The whole area is geared toward it, plus it’s just a nice little slice of Americana tucked into upstate New York.

Would I go again?

Not if I drove myself. Why? It was really fucking hard to get to, considering one of the roads was shut down and most of the drive is like a 40 MPH speed limit.

If you’ve ever been to my house, you know I like sports cards. While it may seem like attending every concert in the area is my favorite hobby, it’s always been cards.

Buying, selling, trading, looking at amazing expensive ones (like the Honus Wagner which is worth $7.5 MILLION), and generally being around people who also like them at shows.

That’s my nerd thing.

So, when time came to be in a card, I jumped at the chance.

Well, that’s not accurate.

I had to get on my knees because the camera lens I had to look at wouldn’t render the image properly while I was standing, or slouching, or crouching.

I had to kneel. And even then I had to look up and off to the side for the camera to get my full face in view.

My day wasn’t quite done. I still had to get to Buffalo for my massage I booked three weeks in advance.

So worth it.

Day 12: Buffalo to Niagara Falls to Cleveland

My mom and I took a trip in 2019 to Toronto and Niagara Falls, recreating some pictures taken when I was a small, small child.

This time, the American side was … alright. The double rainbows helped. I don’t know what makes the Canadian side better, but it was just … better.

Day 13: Cleveland Rocks

I chose a hotel down the street from the venue I was seeing Nikki Glaser and Wallows at. I splurged for both, mainly because Wallows tickets were sold out, leaving VIP my only way into the show. At the last minute, I went all in for Nikki Glaser, too, and boy, did it pay off.

Every time she struck a new pose, she kept saying how little she was in baby talk. It was a direct callback to her anti-tallness set, so being the biggest person in the whole room definitely helped her fuck with me even more in the VIP line. Would see again in a heartbeat. Also, don’t blame me for the blurry photos, those were taken by her opener.

I didn’t get any pictures of Wallows to post here due to the bombardment of teenagers surrounding me at every second of the show. I’m sure there was some song snippets on Snapchat or Instagram. Also would see them again, though they’re probably now too big for 2,000 cap rooms like The Agora.

I spent that Saturday before the show taking in Cleveland. First the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, then the West Side Market and the breweries surrounding it.

Day 14: Cleveland to Grand Rapids

I later gathered all the mementos into a shadowbox display that sits right behind my desk. Framing things is also another hobby of mine, behind cards and concerts.