Summer at the Jersey Shore
Every time I visit New Jersey, I say I’m not coming back and yet, here I was again. This time I had a really wonderful reason for a two-month stay. His name is Mark. We’ve known each other for several years but our relationship didn’t really blossom until last spring. Having a strong friendship as a base, our relationship has grown quickly and, considering my vagabond lifestyle, I wanted to spend a significant amount of time with him to see if it was something that could last as I travel over the next few years. We became even closer over the summer and I’m excited to say we’re planning a future together.
Mark and I during his visit to Florida last spring.
I arrived back in New Jersey on July 1 and immediately encountered my first traffic jam in months. That’s what I get for driving to the Jersey Shore on Fourth of July weekend.
I’d be spending the next two months at Tip Tam Camping Resort in Jackson. I didn’t actually spend much time in the campground, since I was here to spend as much time as possible visiting family and friends before moving west, so I didn’t get to know any of my neighbors but the staff was very friendly.
My campsite at Tip Tam Camping Resort in Jackson, NJ. Although it was sunny when I took this photo, it seemed to rain the entire summer.
This video shows my entire campsite under a couple inches of water during one of the frequent summer storms.
Just before my arrival, my best friend, Diana, fell and broke her pelvis, which negated a lot of our plans for the summer but we spent a lot of time together, none the less. Most importantly, we hit our favorite local watering hole, Anchor Inn, in Ocean Gate, for Ladies Night every Thursday I was there.
Diana and I on Ladies Night at Anchor Inn in Ocean Gate, NJ.
By the end of summer, Diana was feeling strong enough for a day trip to the southern tip of Long Beach Island to check out the beach at Holgate. I’d never been all the way to the bottom of L.B.I. before so this was something new for me.
The Holgate beach at the southern end of Long Beach Island.
Looking south towards the Edwin B. Forsythe National Wildlife Refuge at the southern tip of the barrier island.
I got a beach badge for Beachwood beach on the Toms River and spent several days in the spot that’s been my favorite for many years.
I spent many days over the years at this spot on the Toms River in Beachwood, NJ.
As luck would have it, one week, all of my siblings were in New Jersey at the same time. The four of us went out for dinner at Rooney’s in Long Branch. It was a celebration of our Dad, who passed away earlier in the year, and three of us (Frank, Katy and myself) wanted to thank Barbara for her hard work in settling his estate and selling his house in Florida. The four of us rarely have a chance to all be together and this was a wonderful evening of siblings who love and, more importantly, truly like each other. I’m a lucky woman.
My siblings and I are rarely in the same state at the same time so dinner together was a real treat. L-R: Barbara, me, Frank, Katy.
I got in some much-needed line dancing. Surprisingly, I’ve found it hard to find line dancing in my travels. As I’m writing this blog post, I’m in Texas where all I can find is Two-Step, a couples dance. That’s all well and good if you have a partner, but line dancing allows single people to dance, too.
Dinner and drinks with some of my line dancing friends. L-R: Bill, Melinda, Andrea, Tom, me, Joe.
In July, I joined my photography friends for a lighthouse trip to Southern New England. I photographed 34 lighthouses in three days, 20 of which I had never seen before. The trip included two chartered boat rides, the first leaving the dock in Groton, CT at 4:30 a.m. so we could catch the sunrise out in the middle of Long Island Sound. The captain took us all the way to the Eastern tip of Long Island and, technically, most of the lighthouses seen on this charter were in New York. The rest were in Connecticut.
It was a foggy sunrise at Little Gull Lighthouse in New York waters of Long Island Sound.
Some of the crazy people I travel with on the lighthouse trips.
From there, we moved east to Rhode Island and just over the border to Massachusetts. Our second charter boat took us all around Narraganset Bay and out into the Atlantic Ocean.
My effort to get high enough to see the water beyond the lighthouse at Ned’s Point, Massachusetts.
We had to wade through a couple feet of water to get to Palmer Island Lighthouse in Massachusetts.
Goat Island Lighthouse at sunset with the Newport Bridge in the background at Newport, RI.
Sakonet Lighthouse in the Atlantic Ocean, off the coast of Newport, RI.
Drone shot of us on a charter boat at Pomham Rocks Lighthouse in Narragansett Bay, Rhode Island.
What I love about my gypsy lifestyle is finding opportunities to do things I’ve never done before and, although I lived my entire life in New Jersey, I still found some new experiences to enjoy.
There’s a small rodeo that operates in South Jersey that I’d never been to so Mark and I went one Saturday night. Mark grew up in a family of horse riders. He and his siblings all learned to ride from a young age and his three nieces have been competitive riders. Mark’s sister, Faith, is a champion western rider. With his knowledge, Mark was able to explain the nuances of the different events. Cowtown Rodeo is the oldest weekly running rodeo in the country, started in 1929.
Team roping.
Bull riding.
Barrel racing.
Although I had previously attended a stock car race and demolition derby at Wall Stadium, I had never been to the dirt track at New Egypt Speedway. Mark and I spent an evening getting covered in dirt thrown up by the Sprint and Midget cars. It was loud and dirty and a whole lot of fun. Another first for the evening… I dropped my cell phone in the toilet; something I feared for years. Thank goodness for waterproof cases and disinfectant wipes.
Racing at New Egypt Speedway’s dirt track.
We spent a four-day weekend at Mark’s hunting cabin in the mountains of North-Central Pennsylvania. The cabin is simple but comfortable and boasts the greatest view in the state. We walked around the quaint downtowns of Mansfield and Wellsboro, browsing the antique shops.
Sunset at Mark’s cabin.
Lunch and shopping in the quaint town of Wellsboro, PA.
We also took a drive up to the Finger Lakes Region of New York to visit my friend, Christine, and restock my wine supply. Penn Yan, NY is only a 90-minute drive from the cabin, making for a perfect day trip.
Mark and I spent an afternoon visiting with my friend, Christine, who owns a B&B in the Finger Lakes Region of New York.
I stocked up on a favorite wine I’d discovered on my previous trip to the Finger Lakes in Fall 2017.
We stopped by the campground I’d stayed at the previous year to say “Hello” to the owners I’d made friends with. Then we had lunch at Smugglers Corner, the little local bar at the end of the street where I became a “regular” during my stay. When I was here in October, 2017, I became friendly with my bartender Julie. She had a heart attack just before I left and I didn’t have a chance to say “Goodbye.” I was thrilled to see her back at work and looking very healthy.
Julie serving me a bourbon during my visit in October, 2017.
Aside from spending time with Mark this summer, I was on a mission to see as many friends as possible and was hugely successful. Dinners with old friends, lunches with former co-workers (one was a woman my late husband and I worked with back in the 1980s), Happy Hours with girlfriends…you name it.
Girls’ day out with friends Tracy and Diane, as well as my sister, Barbara.
Dinner with my cousin and her partner. L-R: Jimmy, K.C., me , Mark.
The best of all was a lunch I had with my high school art teacher, Ms. Morse. When I was a senior, she changed the direction of my life and I’ve always wanted to thank her. At a time when I had no direction or goals in life, she introduced me to the field of Graphic Design and encouraged me to go to college and begin the career that would ultimately last 44 years.
I tried to find her several times over the years but wasn’t unsuccessful until last Spring when I found her Web site. She retired from teaching but is still a working artist and had legally changed her first name, which is why I had difficulty finding her.
We exchanged several emails and agreed to meet for lunch when I arrived in New Jersey. I can’t really put into words how it felt to tell her in person just what a profound impact she had on me and how grateful I am that she saw more in me than I saw in myself.
Lunch with my high school art teach, Ms. Morse, was 45 years in the making.
Next post:
Westward bound.
