Part 1 – NJ to PA and then NJ again
Our first day out. We hit the usual mid-day traffic up Interstate 295 in New Jersey, taking it up to the Commodore Barry Bridge spanning the Delaware River between Bridgeport NJ and Chester PA. This bridge, erected in the mid 1970s, replaced an aging fleet of auto ferries that ran back and forth across the Delaware, and had been a favorite route for millions of Jersey shore travelers who started from the western suburbs of Philly. There were a couple of bridges in Philly over to Jersey, and the Delaware Memorial Bridge way downstream south of Wilmington, but if you lived anywhere west of Philly, it was most convenient to take the Ferry across the river. There’s not much left of it around anymore, just some rusted old concrete pillars here and there below the new bridge.
Descending in to Chester, PA on the Commodore Barry Bridge
The Commodore Barry fed us onto to Interstate 95 north through Chester PA, one of the singularly most unattractive portions of the entire road. Boarded up slums on one side mirrored graffiti-laden rail cars on the other. Always packed with traffic trying to rush past at 80 miles an hour, always under reconstruction, the cones and barrels creating a military-style obstacle course, the three miles up the road we needed to go passed in a few minutes. Like, maybe, 45. Then, we branched right and hopped on a road with a storied past.
On to the Blue Route, or right off at Exit 1, if you come to your senses quickly enough
Interstate 476,or the Blue Route, as it’s called, is a north-south connector that links the I-95 route running along the Delaware up-river to Philly, with the almost mythically horrible Schuylkill Expressway that runs in to the downtown area from the west. It may well be the only road in the country with an off-ramp that’s on the on-ramp onto it, eg, “Exit 1” below. Construction of this route was held up and delayed over several decades as homeowners along part of the tony Main Line and somewhat less tony Delaware County neighborhoods revolted at the idea of a very useful stretch of highway that could take dozens of miles and an easy two hours off a journey, coming through their back yards. Finally, though, wiser and less-corrupt than usual heads prevailed, and the road opened in the mid 1980s.
Like so many other Penn-DOT projects since, oh, 1905 or so, it immediately became completely obsolete, as thousands of cars and trucks more than anticipated for when the Blue Route was designed in 1955, appeared. Today, this time, the traffic jam was on the south-bound lanes to our left, and I counted as the line of unmoving cars and trucks extended northwards with our travel. It was six miles long. About standard.
We made our way quickly north up our side, rolling past the exits for Darby and Devon, Villanova, Conshohocken, Havertown and Haverford. At noon, we were at the famous Mid County Interchange. This is a spot where the Blue Route, the Pennsylvania Turnpike, the Schuylkill Expressway, US Route 202, and about a dozen less important two-lane roads all converge in an area that is zoned ‘Under Construction Please Follow Detour’.
The road to the detour is usually under construction…
We were looking for the DeKalb Pike, which is one of those roads, common to south-eastern Pennsylvania, and perhaps other well-developed spots of the world like Iceland or Tierra Del Fuego where there is one lane in each direction, the other one is being repaved, there’s a stop light every 14 feet, and “Caution Pavement Narrows” seems to be everyone’s favorite road sign, posted at each traffic light. Since the Bounder’s take-off speed was rarely up to that of the other vehicles on the roadway, we got caught having to shift lanes left or right on a regular basis, and spent a lot of the time that afternoon sitting stock still with a left or right blinker on.
We finally made it to Route 202, a rather (locally) well-known and well-used highway that runs up through scenic Bucks County and into not-so-scenic New Jersey. It’s a road that I’ve spent good portions of my life on, in one spot or another. It starts down in Delaware below Wilmington, and is the main north-south pike between that city and the West Chester area, where I grew up. Past West Chester, it bends over towards King of Prussia, and then up near Norristown, through Montgomery and Bucks counties, then crosses the Delaware River into New Jersey where it runs north-easterly, transitioning from two lanes to four and then two again. Until Interstate 287 opened, it was pretty much the main road between Philly and New York City. During the 1920s through 1950s, every well known celebrity who lived in Bucks County, from Moss Hart to S J Perlman and Dorothy Parker, drove it between New Hope and Broadway, if they weren’t on the train instead.
To Get to New Jersey from Pennsylvania, you need to cross the Delaware. Just like Washington.
We stopped for lunch along Route 202 in Lambertville. It was hot, muggy and smelled like fast food grease and. . . well. . . north Jersey. Then back on the road, through some less crowded part of Jersey, and ahead was Boonton, I-287, and some interesting geology. But first, we had to get around or past the traffic heading towards or away from New York City.
I-287 is nothing more than an eight-lane outer loop around Manhattan with key connections to Interstate 80 and others. Day or night, rain or shine, summer or winter, car, truck or RV, the average speed is 110 miles an hour. It slows down to 3 mph to pass the carnage and wrecks that litter the shoulder.
Some of it is actually almost scenic for a while
Up near Pompton Lakes, there’s an interesting cut through ancient Wissahickon Schist that probably has billion year old rock at its base. People don’t care much, because a lot of it has the alarming habit of crashing down through your windshield at inopportune times. Silent movie director C. B. DeMille was born in Pompton Lakes.
After Pompton Lakes, the road heads up into New York state, crossing the state line near Mahwah. We got off the road to try to find some gas, and it took 45 minutes to get back on, we even ended up driving through a small residential neighborhood until we could get the GPS to figure out where we really were, and get us back on I-287. I found it somewhat astounding that, 10 miles from Times Square, our GPS had no earthly idea where we were.
We ran on past Nyack, headed to the Tappan Zee bridge, at that time being replaced by new spans right next to the aging original. There was a lot of traffic on the other lanes, but luckily, our eastbound route seemed not so bad. We crossed the bridge without incident..
Tarrytown and Sleepy Hollow were our target, but I had no idea how narrow and slow the roadway would be. We crept up the east bank of the Hudson for a couple of miles, stopping for lights and traffic every, oh, 72 inches or so.A quick check of the guidebook showed a potential stop a few miles up the road, the Croton Point State Park, a small north-pointing promontory off the east bank of the river. We followed the signs, and then turned left, over a railroad bridge, and into the park. It was built on what had been an old landfill, but didn’t smell all that bad.
After dinner, we took a leisurely hike around the place with Kamryn on her bike. We could see the setting sun light up the communities across the narrow bit of river between us and the east shoreline. It was nice and bucolic.
Thus ended our first day. Tomorrow, we head directly north, skirting the Hudson River most of the way, past Schenectady and Albany, and then head into Vermont towards the relatives.
Day 2 – Croton to Hoosick Back to Home