Yes, this topic is getting its very own post.

On Friday I moved from the woods of central New Hampshire down to that little part that touches the ocean. As such, yesterday I drove up the coast into Maine to get some lobster roll. The only real criteria I had was that I wanted a legit place on the water, and it only had to be the best roll in the entire Northeast. That’s all. After some Googling, I picked a place called Fox’s Lobster House that is pretty close to the Maine / New Hampsire border and headed out.

I ended up along Route 1A through York, ME, which runs right along the coast with shops and restaurants (in normal times), along with some nice views of the ocean.

Past that, you turn into a residential neighborhood with super tight roads and an endless number of people walking / biking on the shoulder. Much fun in a giant F-250 pickup truck. After some white knuckle curves and hail marys for those pedestrians around me, I turned onto the road for the restaurant AND… complete chaos.

If I could pick my worst nightmare during this pandemic, this scene would cover it. First off, it was a free-for-all on what few parking spots they had. To be honest, that’s a worst nightmare global pandemic or no global pandemic. That’s a “fuck this, we’ll walk” situation for sure. Just ask Jenny. However, there was also a crowd of people all on top of each other, clamoring for their seafood. Just all sorts of breathing and existing near each other. I’m sure I hope it was less a clusterf**k than it looked from down the block, but I wouldn’t make that bet.

So as the risk-reward ratio on the situation immediately evaporated, I pulled a u-turn before the point of no return, recalculated, and decided to drive another hour north. I ended up just south of Portland, ME at a place called The Lobster Shack at Two Lights on Cape Elizabeth…

…where there were FAR fewer people, way more parking spots, and the end goal.

A lobster roll with giant ass chunks of lobster (and ONLY LOBSTER… more on that later), mayo, amazingly toasted bread, whatever that red s**t is… it was absolutely awesome. F**king delicious. And I was still like… “meh, could have been better.” I had built up this “I’m going to get REAL lobster roll from a REAL Maine place on the REAL Atlantic Ocean and it’s going to be MINDBLOWING” thing so much I was ultimately left a little hollow.

Until this evening…

This morning was one of those mornings where despite any plans you had for the day the night before, you open your eyes and just go, “yeah, f**k that.” So I stuck around the camper, cleaned a little, and sat outside in the sunshine. When dinnertime rolled around, I decided to get another lobster roll from the closest place I could find. It’s only a few minutes down the road, and I was even able to grab some beer on the way.

Picked it up, came back, opened the container and…

Wait… what? That doesn’t look the same at all.

Take a bite… THERE’S IMITATION CRAB IN THERE. You know that gross fake stringy thing it does? Every bite there’s a bunch of it hanging out of my mouth. Tiny little chunks of lobster and IMITATION CRAB, the grossest s**t on the planet. You can even kinda see it the picture for f**k’s sake. They say it’s 1/3 pound of lobster… I’d say about 1/5 that mixed with IMITATION CRAB.

I eventually realized there was an awesome lesson to take away from this. A lot of psychologists argue that having too many choices ultimately makes us unhappy. It’s called “The Paradox of Choice” and my interpretation is that the more choices you have, not only will you agonize that much more over which to select, but you’ll have that much more to regret you made the wrong choice and are missing out on something better.

You set out to get the best lobster roll when there are 1,504 different places you can get one. No matter where you go, you’ll think “oh, damn the other place would have been better.” And that’s what I just did. It didn’t matter how good that lobster roll was, I was always going to think I made the wrong decision. I forgot that I’m in this amazing situation and the fact I could get in the car and even attempt this is already a blessing.

I have as much freedom and choices as I can ever recall. And that’s saying quite a lot, I’ve had a decently charmed life. I’m traveling the country in an RV with the love of my life and best friend, I can go almost anywhere I choose (during a f**king pandemic no less) and I’m down on myself because my lobster roll wasn’t as good as I thought it should be? AM I F**KING SERIOUS RIGHT NOW??!?

I’ve gone through the same process when campsites I was super excited about staying at canceled on us due to the virus. I’d get all pissed off and aggravated having to find a different site that “definitely isn’t going to be as good.” Eventually I just have to laugh at my complete ridiculousness.

I’ll do my best to keep things in perspective from now on. Appreciate things for what they are and find the good in all the moments we meet in this adventure.

Except IMITATION CRAB… f**k that s**t.

TL;DR: I got scammed out of $20 for a shitty “lobster roll” and I appreciate everything I have in my life that much more now.

So it’s been a minute. Let’s recap:

April 19th – 20th: Tucumcari, NM
Left our site in AZ morning of Sunday April 19th and started our journey east. First stop was this middle of nowhere town in New Mexico. We found a burger place called Blake’s Lotaburger in town who had a website where you could place an order online. Place the order, wait 20 minutes or so, go pick up your food. Pretty standard these days, no?

I walked in, and when I said I was picking up an order they looked at me like I had asked for chicken lo mein or something.

“WHAT?!?! WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!?!”

I repeated that I was picking up an online order, and they go, “OH! That was you?!?! We didn’t even know we had an online system, so your order just popped up on our screen and we had no idea where it came from so we didn’t make it.”

So if anyone ever wonders aloud to you, I WONDER who the first person to ever place an online order with Blake’s Lotaburger in Tucumcari, NM was… it was this f**king guy right here.

Also, if you’re wondering if “Blake’s Lotaburger” is anything like “Whataburger”… we had Whataburger in El Paso, and if I closed my eyes and took a bite I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between the two. I’m sure huge Whataburger fans would tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about, but that’s the truth. Deal with it.

April 21st – April 22nd: Wellington, KS
Highlight of this stop was a great burger and milk shake at a place called Penny’s Diner which is this retro 50’s type of place that would have been awesome to eat at had times been normal. We also went to Walmart for supplies. That about covers it.

April 23rd – April 24th: Eureka, MO
Just outside of St. Louis, replaced the burger and milkshake with barbecue and local beer. I had been to a place called Sugarfire Smokehouse on a few business trips to St. Louis, and they did not disappoint this time either. The beer was called Pseudo Sue Ale and apparently supports the Field Museum in Chicago, which got Jenny super excited. Another Walmart stop, too. We got needs, man.

This is also the point we realized we were entering the more serious part of the country in regards to the virus. As previously stated, we pay for gas at the pump, and campsites are doing check-ins over the phone / through a pane of glass, so our interactions with the world are minimal. The aforementioned Walmarts and food joints, which we’d be doing even if we were back in Colorado.

That being said, we have a unique perspective on what the different parts of the country are doing, and the difference is pretty crazy. In Arizona and New Mexico, you probably saw a few people with masks on, but most people just stayed the f**k away from everyone else. Which I guess is pretty easy when there’s a ton of space everywhere and not many cases. Then we got to St. Louis area and beyond and EVERYONE was wearing masks. Having spent the past month in AZ, it was jarring. We went from feeling kinda silly wearing them to thankful as hell we had them.

Also thankful we were moving from a minimally impacted area to one just starting to crawl out of a virtual lockdown. I’m not sure how comfortable I would have been doing it had it been the other direction.

April 25th: Huntington, WV
Quick overnight on our last push to NY. Originally we were going to pull a Cracker Barrel / Walmart parking lot stay, but I decided last minute “f**k that we can drop $40 for a real campsite.” Money well spent, I think. I’m not sure what a Cracker Barrel parking lot looks like at 3am in bumblef**k West Virginia, but I’m pretty sure I’m perfectly fine never knowing.

April 26th – May 1st: Watkins Glen, NY
We pulled in late night of the 26th after like nine hours of driving in pouring rain and 40 degree weather. It was also a back-in site, but instead of dealing with it properly, I decided to turn into the spot in front of ours, get an angle, and then go straight back into the site. Even with that help, it still took us about 30 minutes to get in and hooked up. But whatever, it’s pitch black, cold, and raining… we’re level and able to sleep comfortably for the night.

Then came the morning. And sunlight. And, oh my goodness.

First off, there’s literally no one else at the campground. I mean, at all. We took a walk around and there was one little 20-footer travel trailer that looked like a guy that worked there. That was it. We had the whole site to ourselves. And it was NOT a small site.

Secondly, we DESTROYED the grass around the site in front of us. With the truck’s 4WD and power steering that soaking wet muddy grass didn’t stand a chance. You might say, “But the grass is outside and around the actual site, I thought you pulled into the site in front of you. Why were you driving on the grass?”

Turns out we pulled in 45 degrees off plane from the actual campsite, and the truck was about halfway in the road. I made a very professional diagram to illustrate our morning positions:

Considering we were the only guests, you’d figure they’d come over and be like “Um.. could you… not… be like that?” But we took it on ourselves to fix it, and used the opportunity to practice backing into the spot. We’ve settled on Jenny driving and me directing her. I’ve yelled at her a few too many times for not, you know, reading my mind and completely anticipating my poorly communicated needs… so she’s more comfortable doing it this way. STILL a work in progress and we’ve been doing this for two months now.

Also, we had our first visitor! Jenny’s buddy from college, Joey, came by for a socially distanced campfire.

May 1st – May 5th: Oneonta, NY
Now, the site we stayed at in Watkins Glen is a big family adventure, summer vacation type of resort. It has mini golf, a zip line, all sorts of s**t. None of which we needed. Or could even partake in if we wanted to. However, the nightly rate still reflected these activities, and so I booked a second cheaper site a little further down the road to balance that out.

Up until this point we had not been to a site where people legit lived. All the time. Camper up on blocks, lattices around the “porch,” the whole nine yards. This was that site. And these were not retirees or “I’m originally from the city, I just love the country!” people. These were LOCALS. Locals from the woods of upstate New York. (FYI Everything past Bronx is upstate New York.)

Fine, I’ll say it. F**king rednecks. Ridiculously glorious rednecks. Zero percent social distancing being followed. God bless you guys.

So it was an interesting vibe to say the least. Jenny’s sister came and stayed a couple nights. They went out to visit another one of her friends from college who lives in the area, and then just straight up left me to go back to Long Island. Complete abandonment. But hey, I got to see my old Jeep!

Jenny will be back on Long Island until her nephew shows up. Then she’ll be sticking around to help her sister with her two dogs, get a bazillion pictures and videos, and then coming back to her RV life. That kid better be cute as f**k, or this was just a massive waste of time.

Also, I finally bought a big boy grill. I had bought a $25 grill from Walmart back in Arizona just to get over. It worked okay once, then literally burned alive the second time. The grease caught fire and I walked out of the camper to flip the steaks and was met with a pillar of fire and smoke. The steaks were charred on the outside and completely raw on the inside. Also, the beer was flat from rocking around in the camper from that day’s travel. Just an all out disaster that I hope to avoid with this bad boy.

May 5th – Present: Ossipee, NH
So I finally left New York, alone with the cats, and drove out here to New Hampshire. The original plan was supposed to be Cape Cod, but Massachusetts is still dragging on in their pandemic curve and dealing with their s**t. When I got here I was planning on getting down there on the 22nd, but just this morning the Cape Cod site called and basically cancelled altogether. Then five minutes later, the site we had booked in Maine cancelled too.

So at this point, I just live in New Hampshire until further notice. Not that I’m complaining. Besides the polar vortex coming on Saturday and Jenny not being with me, things are good.

Today I hiked up to Champney Falls. The trail consists of crossing over a bunch of streams (or possibly the same stream multiple times) by hopping across rocks in the stream. I set the goal for the day to not get my feet wet, but by the second stream I had rolled off two rocks and both off my feet were absolutely soaked. Luckily the only failure of the day.

Grilled steak and eggs for dinner, drinking Pig’s Ear Brown Ale by Woodstock Inn Brewery, listening to classic rock, and finally getting this update done. Thankful we’ve been able to pull off some adventure while keeping ourselves and others safe. Still rolling with the punches and trying to keep making good decisions. Hope everyone out there is doing the same, staying safe and healthy.

And happy. You don’t hear that one as much. Hope you’re all happy, too.