When you’re from New England, the whole concept of taking a “Road Trip” means driving an hour to the beach. So when my friend Beccy suggested we take a road trip to Niagara Falls during our kids’ spring break, I mentally padded the usual duration with an extra hour or two and impetuously answered Yes.
As I’ve established, I’m notoriously terrible with directions. I should have paused before answering. I should have considered that Beccy is from the Midwest, where folks will drive for two hours on a Sunday morning just to worship at church. She comes from a place where people traverse vast distances over flat earth to get almost anywhere. Or, nowhere: When my friend Jen was growing up in Nebraska, her parents routinely piled six kids into their Country Squire just to head out for a drive.
So this is how I found myself, last week, journeying the 8 hours west from Massachusetts to Canada, with Beccy, her two daughters and one of my own.
From Boston, Niagara Falls is pretty much a straight shot west and then slight arch north, through the greenest parts of Massachusetts and New York. We passed fields of dark soil freshly plowed for spring, small hills dotted with cows and sheep, and horse paddocks attached to red barns. We shared the road with truckers. In fact, this easily could have been the Midwest.
Were it not for Beccy’s Acura and the iPods plugged into the kids’ ears in the back, it also could have easily been 1958. It’s easy to lose track of time on the road… not just the sun marching across the sky, but the sense of feeling untethered to place, in a black hole of space and time. Traveling a mostly empty tarmac, passing at high speed farms that felt unchanged for decades—were the cows grazing on that hill the offspring of their cow ancestors who grazed there, too?
And what of the cows—what do they think of us, hurtling past them? Do we seem unchanged to them, too?
In part, this sense of the being frozen in time and place was the essence of our destination. Niagara is a decidedly retro place. As you probably know, Niagara Falls is a collection of massive waterfalls on the Niagara River, straddling the border separating Ontario and New York. The Falls were formed when glaciers receded at the end of the last ice age, and water from the newly formed Great Lakes carved a path through the Niagara Escarpment en route to the Atlantic Ocean, creating the most powerful waterfalls in North America.
Of course, I didn’t know any of this before last week. All I knew about Niagara, in fact, I gleaned years ago from a decorative gift-shop plate I used to see hanging on a neighbor’s wall when I was growing up. The plate was about 8 inches in diameter; with a filigree border edged in gold paint. Printed on its face, like numbers on a clock, were tiny pictures of Niagara highlights—an indiscernible figure going over the falls in a wooden barrel, a cable car traversing the river, the Maid of the Mist boat. And then there were the tiny renderings of the Falls themselves—Horseshoe Falls on the Canadian side of the border and American Falls and Bridal Veil Falls on the US side. On that plate, grossly out of scale and dimension, I thought they looked like the water bubblers at school.
Up close, of course, the Falls are far more impressive. Awe-inspiring, even. And the natural attractions are largely unchanged since the time my neighbors most likely bought that plate. Niagara felt close to the freer, looser place I imagined they must have experienced: a time before national fears made security measures standard at major US attractions. We waited in lines that didn’t snake through metal detectors; we carried bags that weren’t searched.
When I mentioned as much to Beccy, she said something about this being Canada, not the US, and what did they have to worry about? I conceded that she had a point.
So we made the most of it. We toured the damp passageways dug behind the Falls, the floor slick with cold puddles. We mugged for pictures in front of the Falls, feeling the mist chill our skin even though we stood at far away lookouts. We watched an IMAX movie about Niagara’s history and saw the contraptions some crazy souls rode over them before the entire carnival of it was banned in 1970s. Some of us rode the cable car suspended slightly downstream over the Niagara River, which we then followed to Lake Ontario. It was the first Great Lake I’d ever seen, the first lake I couldn’t easily see the other side of, a marvel I couldn’t help but point out repeatedly to the girls as they hunted for the best kind of rocks to skip over its smooth surface. At night, we slept in beds that looked out over the Falls, lit up in a successive riot of blue and red and green.
In essence, we uncovered every vantage from which to view and feel the Falls, to experience their power, to impress the awe on ourselves and on our kids. We soaked it all in. Who knew when—if ever?—we’d be back? I contemplated buying a plate.
As most anyone who has ever embarked on a Road Trip will tell you, the trip back is never as much fun as the trip there. And it was then that I also lost that sense of being suspended in time and place, of the freedom and looseness that had pervaded most of the journey.
Rolling out of town, with the Falls still within easy view, we stopped at the Rainbow Bridge border checkpoint and produced our passports. The way into Canada had been uneventful, but the US guard was less easygoing. He looked carefully at each passport, eyeing us, looking at the three girls in the back seat, and then back to us again.
He fired a series of questions at Beccy, who was driving: “Are you all one family? How long were you in Canada? Where did you stay? How do you two know each other?” and in between other queries, he repeated, twice more, “How long were you in Canada?”
Slightly flushed and surprised and breathless, she answered truthfully and as simply as she could. I chimed in, too, but tried to keep the guilt from creeping into my voice. Not because I actually had anything to feel guilty about, of course. But after years of Catholic schooling, it’s second-nature to assume I do.
Who knows what prompted such questioning of two 40-ish Moms traveling with three young girls? Who knows whether something had happened at this border crossing in recent history, whether this was par for the course or a reaction to generally tighter security measures, or whether we’d chanced on a guard who enjoyed the power trip? But Beccy was shook up, and the rest of us sufficiently intimated, to continue to ponder the issue aloud well into Buffalo.
Almost immediately, having just crossed the border back into the US over the Rainbow Bridge—and there we were: rooted anew in the present.
When my family moved from California to Massachusetts in the 80s, we caravanned cross-country with my father’s parents, both born in Norway but US citizens since the 1930s. We stopped at Niagara Falls, intending to view it from the American side, but a wrong turn and — whoops! — we were in Canada. Everything went without a hitch until we tried to reenter New York and the border guard decided to give my grandparents, and their Norwegian accents, a hard time.
My grandmother wasn’t an exceptionally pleasant woman at the best of times — I never saw her so furious, though, as when a guard presumed to question her citizenship, to ask her how long we had been in Canada (about two hours), and all the other baldly skeptical questions delivered in rapid-fire fashion. It was slightly ridiculous. And that’s what I remember about Niagara Falls: Weird border guard questions.
Nothing’s really changed. I’ve traveled all over the world, and don’t believe I’ve ever been challenged like I have when returning to the US from Canada. Bizarre. I think it’s par for the course.
When my family moved from California to Massachusetts in the 80s, we caravanned cross-country with my father’s parents, both born in Norway but US citizens since the 1930s. We stopped at Niagara Falls, intending to view it from the American side, but a wrong turn and — whoops! — we were in Canada. Everything went without a hitch until we tried to reenter New York and the border guard decided to give my grandparents, and their Norwegian accents, a hard time.
My grandmother wasn’t an exceptionally pleasant woman at the best of times — I never saw her so furious, though, as when a guard presumed to question her citizenship, to ask her how long we had been in Canada (about two hours), and all the other baldly skeptical questions delivered in rapid-fire fashion. It was slightly ridiculous. And that’s what I remember about Niagara Falls: Weird border guard questions.
Nothing’s really changed. I’ve traveled all over the world, and don’t believe I’ve ever been challenged like I have when returning to the US from Canada. Bizarre. I think it’s par for the course.
As usual, great stuff, Ann. And you are guilty – of good, entertaining writing!
As usual, great stuff, Ann. And you are guilty – of good, entertaining writing!
A navigation system was the best investment I’ve ever made. I have a terrible sense of direction, but don’t have to worry now. Relying on machinery is probably not the way to go and I’m bound to get lost at some point when it shuts off.
A navigation system was the best investment I’ve ever made. I have a terrible sense of direction, but don’t have to worry now. Relying on machinery is probably not the way to go and I’m bound to get lost at some point when it shuts off.
Great post!
Almost a year ago, I made the voyage from the green fields of Iowa to Los Angeles.
The drive out here is one that I think about almost every day. Driving through the Black Hills of South Dakota, Wyoming, etc. by myself was very eye opening. If time wasn’t an issue in my day-to-day life I would definitely drive back the next time I go home to visit.
My friends here can’t understand that while it may take me two hours to drive to the nearest airport back in Iowa… I’m also driving 12o miles to get there!
Great post!
Almost a year ago, I made the voyage from the green fields of Iowa to Los Angeles.
The drive out here is one that I think about almost every day. Driving through the Black Hills of South Dakota, Wyoming, etc. by myself was very eye opening. If time wasn’t an issue in my day-to-day life I would definitely drive back the next time I go home to visit.
My friends here can’t understand that while it may take me two hours to drive to the nearest airport back in Iowa… I’m also driving 12o miles to get there!
Christian — That is a crazy story. Part of me is amazed that the border guards were so uptight even THEN.. and part of me is gratified that we weren’t singled out, for whatever reason, other than for my nervous laughter and shifty eyes…
Steve W — Thanks, as always!!
Dan — Totally agree: GPS rocks for directionally challenged folks like us.
Steve — No offense but… that’s just NUTS! ; )
Christian — That is a crazy story. Part of me is amazed that the border guards were so uptight even THEN.. and part of me is gratified that we weren’t singled out, for whatever reason, other than for my nervous laughter and shifty eyes…
Steve W — Thanks, as always!!
Dan — Totally agree: GPS rocks for directionally challenged folks like us.
Steve — No offense but… that’s just NUTS! ; )
Why do they do that? I used to go over the border from Canada into the US on a daily basis at one time and I actually asked a guard… (One that seemed quite nice, which was rare!) He said that maybe it was because to be stationed ‘up here’ was like a punishment posting!! I’m Canadian and quite like it up here, so I was speechless!! I’ve travelled all over the world and the guards on the road borders here are a different breed- the US ones and the Canadian… Who, I suspect, were nice to you because you were visitors. US guards seem neurotic about terrorists entering from Canada. Which is sort of legit? Our lot are just neurotic about us buying anything in the US and not paying ridiculous taxes.
Really glad you enjoyed your trip Ann… And impressed you made it! I remember when you refused to go anywhere other than Maine and home for years. A real homebody! Now it seems like you’re everywhere!
xx
Why do they do that? I used to go over the border from Canada into the US on a daily basis at one time and I actually asked a guard… (One that seemed quite nice, which was rare!) He said that maybe it was because to be stationed ‘up here’ was like a punishment posting!! I’m Canadian and quite like it up here, so I was speechless!! I’ve travelled all over the world and the guards on the road borders here are a different breed- the US ones and the Canadian… Who, I suspect, were nice to you because you were visitors. US guards seem neurotic about terrorists entering from Canada. Which is sort of legit? Our lot are just neurotic about us buying anything in the US and not paying ridiculous taxes.
Really glad you enjoyed your trip Ann… And impressed you made it! I remember when you refused to go anywhere other than Maine and home for years. A real homebody! Now it seems like you’re everywhere!
xx
Great writing, Ann. I enjoyed reading this. Thanks for taking me along, through words, on your road trip.
Great writing, Ann. I enjoyed reading this. Thanks for taking me along, through words, on your road trip.
‘Sunday drives’ have been staple entertainment here in the South for decades. There’s something about being on the open road with the sun shining and the sunroof open that’s very peaceful. Great way to spend an afternoon!
‘Sunday drives’ have been staple entertainment here in the South for decades. There’s something about being on the open road with the sun shining and the sunroof open that’s very peaceful. Great way to spend an afternoon!
Great post Ann. I’m still revisiting aspects of our trip, but I’m shocked…not a whisper of “itsey”!
Great post Ann. I’m still revisiting aspects of our trip, but I’m shocked…not a whisper of “itsey”!
Ann,
Long live the great american road trip!
Many times I have visited the Falls and have sensed its’ massive power. My mother is from Buffalo and went to school at Niagara University. (I plan to throw half my Mom’s ashes on the American Side.)
You may enjoy my blog post “on the road” about the art of pilgrimage http://www.annbadillo.com/annscan/2008/04/on-the-road.html#more
BTW–In college I was Goddess on the roadtrip and traveled New England in my moon green VW Rabbitt while on an UNH exchange program from California. Your roads are more narrow, slower than our in California. Gas was cheap back in 198– 75 cent/gallon. I once drove home to San Francisco from UNH in 3 days with 2 other drivers. We drove around the clock only stopping to see Graceland.
Ann,
Long live the great american road trip!
Many times I have visited the Falls and have sensed its’ massive power. My mother is from Buffalo and went to school at Niagara University. (I plan to throw half my Mom’s ashes on the American Side.)
You may enjoy my blog post “on the road” about the art of pilgrimage http://www.annbadillo.com/annscan/2008/04/on-the-road.html#more
BTW–In college I was Goddess on the roadtrip and traveled New England in my moon green VW Rabbitt while on an UNH exchange program from California. Your roads are more narrow, slower than our in California. Gas was cheap back in 198– 75 cent/gallon. I once drove home to San Francisco from UNH in 3 days with 2 other drivers. We drove around the clock only stopping to see Graceland.
Ann, you have so beautifully captured th the thrill of the road trip. When I moved to Michigan from California I was shocked that people thought driving anywhere was a vacation. In CA, we had to drive during the week to do anything but it was far from leisurely! In the Midwest, you are right time does seem to fall away as you drive through towns that still have gas station attendants (and the pumps are not automated) and where cows roam in pastures while windmills softly turn. Thank you for sharing your road trip with us. I really enjoyed the ride.
Ann, you have so beautifully captured th the thrill of the road trip. When I moved to Michigan from California I was shocked that people thought driving anywhere was a vacation. In CA, we had to drive during the week to do anything but it was far from leisurely! In the Midwest, you are right time does seem to fall away as you drive through towns that still have gas station attendants (and the pumps are not automated) and where cows roam in pastures while windmills softly turn. Thank you for sharing your road trip with us. I really enjoyed the ride.
Wonderful story telling, Ann. Thanks. BTW We lived in Seattle for 20 years and frequently drove up to Vancouver B.C. The Canadian authorities were cool; the American… well, let’s just say they were more than a little uptight.
Now, about growing up New England. Perhaps it’s because my home was across the border in NH, but every Sunday we took a long drive: to the mountains, White and Green; to the beaches, NH and Maine; or even around just our County. It was all we could afford. (Gas was 20 cents a gallon.)
One sidenote: When Kay and I lived in the Chicago area, both of us drove an hour each way to work. Seemed normal to us. Ah, the differences between us make us fun and interesting.
Wonderful story telling, Ann. Thanks. BTW We lived in Seattle for 20 years and frequently drove up to Vancouver B.C. The Canadian authorities were cool; the American… well, let’s just say they were more than a little uptight.
Now, about growing up New England. Perhaps it’s because my home was across the border in NH, but every Sunday we took a long drive: to the mountains, White and Green; to the beaches, NH and Maine; or even around just our County. It was all we could afford. (Gas was 20 cents a gallon.)
One sidenote: When Kay and I lived in the Chicago area, both of us drove an hour each way to work. Seemed normal to us. Ah, the differences between us make us fun and interesting.
Being from the buffalo area and venturing into Canada many many times over the course of the year it was an interesting perspective to read your post, thanks! Your experience of the border crossing is right on every time you cross. Easy getting into Canada and difficult getting back into the States. They tend to give people a hard time especially with kids. When I have taken the kids without my wife they have even asked me if she knew I was taking them into Canada. I appreciate their thoroughness it makes me feel safe.
Glad you enjoyed your trip. Thanks for the story.
Being from the buffalo area and venturing into Canada many many times over the course of the year it was an interesting perspective to read your post, thanks! Your experience of the border crossing is right on every time you cross. Easy getting into Canada and difficult getting back into the States. They tend to give people a hard time especially with kids. When I have taken the kids without my wife they have even asked me if she knew I was taking them into Canada. I appreciate their thoroughness it makes me feel safe.
Glad you enjoyed your trip. Thanks for the story.
Oh, that emotional border frisk would have freaked me out big-time.
Oh, that emotional border frisk would have freaked me out big-time.
I grew up like you Ann- we just didn’t do road trips. An hour down to Grandma’s (outside of Princeton) or to our place upstate (about 1.5 hours) was an eternity.
But there’s a certain camaraderie to the road – many a strong friendship was cemented in a car ride to and from school and there’s that freedom, that sense of being removed from time.
Satellite radio means that local radio stations with their local car dealer and nightclub ads are a thing of the past.
But the internet is not available in cars (yet) and so we do have to actually talk to each other if we want to communicate.
I suspect this trip is one your daughter will remember fondly forever.
I grew up like you Ann- we just didn’t do road trips. An hour down to Grandma’s (outside of Princeton) or to our place upstate (about 1.5 hours) was an eternity.
But there’s a certain camaraderie to the road – many a strong friendship was cemented in a car ride to and from school and there’s that freedom, that sense of being removed from time.
Satellite radio means that local radio stations with their local car dealer and nightclub ads are a thing of the past.
But the internet is not available in cars (yet) and so we do have to actually talk to each other if we want to communicate.
I suspect this trip is one your daughter will remember fondly forever.
Ann, I’m preparing for a summer vacation in California where I’m expected to drive for thousands of miles and your post is juicing the real pleasure of this kind of travel: the one I hope to feel this summer (border patrol non included, indeed)
Ann, I’m preparing for a summer vacation in California where I’m expected to drive for thousands of miles and your post is juicing the real pleasure of this kind of travel: the one I hope to feel this summer (border patrol non included, indeed)
Hey Ann,
Wow. I laughed out loud at your contemplation on buying a commemorative plate of the falls.
Your writing brought back my childhood when we had little money (something I realize only now) and how we would all pile into the van for a road trip or a picnic.
Yours seemed elevated from my experiences as there was no mention of fighting, green faced car sickness, or pranks gone horribly awry. Yet they shared that timeless air that I now find myself yearning for once again.
Thank you for that.
Sean
Hey Ann,
Wow. I laughed out loud at your contemplation on buying a commemorative plate of the falls.
Your writing brought back my childhood when we had little money (something I realize only now) and how we would all pile into the van for a road trip or a picnic.
Yours seemed elevated from my experiences as there was no mention of fighting, green faced car sickness, or pranks gone horribly awry. Yet they shared that timeless air that I now find myself yearning for once again.
Thank you for that.
Sean
I’m not sure what is more enticing – The prospect of visiting Niagra Falls through Canada on the strength of your endorsement or the opportunity to observe the current human condition (and reflecting on our frailty) by trying to get back to the U.S.
Wonderful description, Ann! I’m glad you didn’t write this for a travel mag, because I never would have read it! 🙂
I’m not sure what is more enticing – The prospect of visiting Niagra Falls through Canada on the strength of your endorsement or the opportunity to observe the current human condition (and reflecting on our frailty) by trying to get back to the U.S.
Wonderful description, Ann! I’m glad you didn’t write this for a travel mag, because I never would have read it! 🙂
That was a fantastic trip! I remember sweating in the back seat wondering if we would EVER get through to the border with all the questions the guard was asking us! Great memories, a cherished trip, lots of fun!
XO,
Your goddaughter
That was a fantastic trip! I remember sweating in the back seat wondering if we would EVER get through to the border with all the questions the guard was asking us! Great memories, a cherished trip, lots of fun!
XO,
Your goddaughter
Thanks for the comments, all of you. Much appreciated. And I have a new respect for road trippers.
Funny — It never occurred to me that the US border patrol ALWAYS acted that way, even for the past decade or more. I assumed it was a post 9/11, modern attitude.
p.s. To Beccy’s point about “Itsey”: All I can say is that this 8-hour journey was made a lot more palatable by her tutoring in the finer points of car games. How *could* I forget that…?
p.p.s. Mandi — XO too.
Thanks for the comments, all of you. Much appreciated. And I have a new respect for road trippers.
Funny — It never occurred to me that the US border patrol ALWAYS acted that way, even for the past decade or more. I assumed it was a post 9/11, modern attitude.
p.s. To Beccy’s point about “Itsey”: All I can say is that this 8-hour journey was made a lot more palatable by her tutoring in the finer points of car games. How *could* I forget that…?
p.p.s. Mandi — XO too.
Luckily You haven’t been to the croatian-serbian border in “hard-times” and having a young, just starting to work police officer at the border-check. 🙂
Yet I feel with these people always. We should try sometimes to stay on our feet in the gassed-air for the whole day. And a lot of people are not nice to them.
Anyway, in person after work, all these people are most probably nice. And meeting them at Niagara falls would be perhaps totaly another story. 🙂
You just made me want to see this wonder once.
Luckily You haven’t been to the croatian-serbian border in “hard-times” and having a young, just starting to work police officer at the border-check. 🙂
Yet I feel with these people always. We should try sometimes to stay on our feet in the gassed-air for the whole day. And a lot of people are not nice to them.
Anyway, in person after work, all these people are most probably nice. And meeting them at Niagara falls would be perhaps totaly another story. 🙂
You just made me want to see this wonder once.
Coming late to the party. Coming from Canada to US, they caused you so much heartburn! I think they have something against Molson Ice and Ice Hockey.
I can just imagine if you had gone on this road trip to Mexico or worse: from someplace outside North America.
Coming late to the party. Coming from Canada to US, they caused you so much heartburn! I think they have something against Molson Ice and Ice Hockey.
I can just imagine if you had gone on this road trip to Mexico or worse: from someplace outside North America.
Ann – I’ve also experienced the steely-eyed border guards between Canada and the US. When I was based in Portland OR doing frequent business trips abroad it was only when I re-entered the country via Vancouver that the immigration guys gave me a really hard time. I put it down to my being British and my (probably thinly-veiled) attitude. But looks like it’s a Canada-US thing. Thanks for this piece, makes me wish I was back there, border guards and all!
Ann – I’ve also experienced the steely-eyed border guards between Canada and the US. When I was based in Portland OR doing frequent business trips abroad it was only when I re-entered the country via Vancouver that the immigration guys gave me a really hard time. I put it down to my being British and my (probably thinly-veiled) attitude. But looks like it’s a Canada-US thing. Thanks for this piece, makes me wish I was back there, border guards and all!
US border guards have always been that way… even before 9/11. If you cross at a less heavily trafficked point (ie. some parts in upstate new york), you may get more easy-going attitudes. I’ve crossed at Detroit and Niagara and I never fail to get the interrogations.
US border guards have always been that way… even before 9/11. If you cross at a less heavily trafficked point (ie. some parts in upstate new york), you may get more easy-going attitudes. I’ve crossed at Detroit and Niagara and I never fail to get the interrogations.
Great story. Thanks…. btw for a look at a real old retro road trip by an english guy across america in the 60s, see http://www.retroroadtrips.com
Great story. Thanks…. btw for a look at a real old retro road trip by an english guy across america in the 60s, see http://www.retroroadtrips.com
Have you ever had a moving or DOT violation? Maybe endured a tragic accident while out on the road? Don’t face legal issues like these alone; get a Commercial Driver’s Legal Plan from Pre-Paid Legal Services. We offer legal services tailored to meet the needs of commercial drivers just like you. Protect your legal rights anywhere in the U.S. with toll-free access to legal counsel for issues or questions you encounter when you’re on the road.
You can wait until you get a ticket before calling a legal service, but it’s generally not the best approach. Eddies Morgan of Pre-paid Legal Services says if someone with a moving violation buys a membership. Pre-paid will represent him for a flat fee of $200. American Truckers Legal Services requires a prospective member with an existing ticket to buy an eight-month membership. “It tends to be cheaper if they call us before, not after.” Says Millard Dean of ATLS.
Waiting until you get ticketed to look for a lawyer on your own could give you questionable results, considering you might be asking strangers for recommendations about lawyers in unfamiliar cities. In such cases, it’s hard to gauge a lawyer’s reputation.
“Make sure that the attorney you hire is a winner,” Dean says. “You have to be very, very careful.”