Mountain Highways and Ocean Byways - Treasure Road Surprises

Sometimes - OFTEN - things happen that appear silly, maybe even eccentric to those without the roads knowledge.For those whom the road owns, those are the special times, times to make future memories.

It was a Saturday morning, spring was in the air, and the cabin fever was fully upon us. The morning started typically enough, the morning paper and a cup of coffee as we watched the full white moon sink into the Adirondack Mountains to our west.

"What shall we do today?", asked my LADY. I answered, "Lets take a ride, we can eat breakfast at the Soldier." The Soldier was a little diner about four paces wide and 20 long just across the little River separating New York from Vermont. Best hash in all New England, homemade every day.BUT -- The Soldier is a story for another day for although we indeed downed their hash with a fine order of scrambled eggs the ocean would steal the day.

"Where shall we go?" asked my LADY, as we sipped the bottom of our after breakfast coffee. "How about New Hampshire?", I replied, with a smile and gleam in my eye.There is no better place in New England to hunt the allusive collectible than the mountains of New Hampshire and that place was one of the main pathways of our Treasure Road.

A few hours later we were hopping from treasure haunt to treasure haunt buying some Depression Glass here and some yellow ware there. Did I say a few hours ??? It was actually a couple of "fews" and before I realized it Old Sol was hanging low and we were closer to the Beaches of Maine than the Mountains of home.

"Lets stay at the Ocean," was my LADY'S suggestion. It was one I agreed to without a moments thought of lodging because it was early spring and I was certain we would find a place, without issue, to place our heads for the night. Besides the thought of the Oceanside antique shops clouded my thinking - the pull of 'Treasure Road' was fast upon us.

We crossed the bridge at Portsmouth and pointed the hood rocket toward Kittery, just a short hop away. Much to our surprise the road was full of cars with plates saying Maine, New Hampshire, New York, New Jersey, Massachusetts, Pennsylvania and others of various colors and art that sped by faster than I could read.We traveled Rt1 and 1A North all the way to Kennebunkport, then back as the sun sank into Maine's Ocean. All we found were places of lodging without lodging. We felt like the Holy Family at the birth of their child - except we could not even spy a stable.

We had left our morning paper and coffee at 6:00 or so that morning - we returned home tired and cranky at 3:00 AM or so the following day.

Now some will say the road was treacherous that day - others may claim it was cruel. As we surveyed our loot that Sunday afternoon we called it for what it was - The Treasure Road

Carl Tucker - Spartalin Gifts
http://www.rubyplaza.com/shop/thepeddlersden

The Old Spartan has been traveling down Treasure Road for near on 45 years give or take a bit. Treasure Road is one of the main arteries of my life - a super highway of adventure, a trail to treasure, a pathway to trash. It is a byway that starts in the heart and ends with a final breath. It is a line found on no road map - yet the way from here to there is starkly clear if one feels the draw of their own Treasure Road. This blog is dedicated to that road and the very special LADY who traveled its length and breadth with me as a partner in an adventure we made into a business.

I hope you enjoy the tales as much as we enjoyed their making.