Rhea's first day

Route

Monday, October 12th, was Rhea's first day of the trip. We left Long Island's East End at 10am, after an extra two hours getting the truck perfectly packed. The amount of gear, food, and supplies we've managed to fit in here is astounding. Steinbeck and Charley left from Sag Harbor, a few miles down the road, on September 23rd, 1960.

It was a balmy 70 degrees just north of the city, with sun and clouds on and off as we made our way north. The truck is handling well.

Driving along the Beaverkill River, the Catskills were gorgeous, with hues of red, orange, and yellow. There are a lot more yellows up here and only a few oranges and reds. Fewer maples, I think, and more of everything else. That yellow is carotenoids, the same pigment that makes carrots orange, and it only shows once the green chlorophyll fades in fall. The reds are a different pigment that trees like sugar maples make fresh each fall.

We picked up the East Branch of the Delaware River. I had no idea it reached this far north, but it drains all the way down to Delaware from here. In 1961, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, and the federal government signed a compact to run the whole river together. It was the first time the federal government and a group of states created a regional body with the force of law to manage a river without regard to state lines.

As we got closer to Binghamton, it got chillier, only 60 degrees. We're in for some cold nights the next week or two, and we're ready for it. I hope.

Our campsite, just outside Ithaca, sits on a lush green farm field set against the vibrant foliage. The grass is so green from the recent rain, the remnants of Hurricane Isaias. We had a stunning sunset over the mountains as well, just as Rhea and I were walking around the campsite, stretching our legs after the long day in the truck.

Rhea

Rhea had the back seat all to herself. For the first 2 to 3 hours, she was a little antsy, pacing and having a hard time settling, not knowing where we were going. By the Catskills, she was calm, I think out of pure exhaustion. Periodically she'd get up to stick her head out the window, smell the fresh mountain air, and see if she could catch a glimpse of any squirrels in the trees. She refuses to sleep in the truck, though. I hope that changes with time.

We stopped a few times so she could stretch her legs. We had lunch in a big shopping center parking lot, where we found a corner with a big patch of grass. I had leftover beef stew from the night before, and she laid in the grass. She loved that.

Bedtime was the real test. She was a little apprehensive about the tent, but she was so tired it didn't matter, thankfully. I carried her up the ladder. There's no way she's climbing this ladder on her own. She settled and slept straight through the night; she was pooped after a long day.