My friends who grew up in New England had been ringing in my ears, telling me how lovely the leaves changing every October can be. “There’s nothing like New England in the fall. There’s a faint shift in the air and people begin scattering pumpkins about, and the trees turn fire engine red and lemon yellow…” Okay, okay, guys, say no more. I knew I needed to get myself to New England stat. As it turned out, my friend Allison was going to be in NYC in October, and wanted to go leaf peeping in Vermont, so we decided to make it happen.
I made the necessary arrangements and cleared my schedule. We needed a car for the trip, so we rented Damian’s Jeep Patriot, which I was stoked on because I knew there might be a few nights sleeping in the car. And just like that, on a rainy October morning, we hopped a quick bus to Jersey, picked up the keys, and headed north to see some fall leaves.
We made a loose plan to head north east from NYC to Connecticut, stop in Boston, Portland, and then make our way west towards the Adirondacks from there. I’m currently working my way through visiting all 50 states, and New England happened to include a chunk of states I had left. I have some parameters on things I typically have to do in each state: (ideally) grab a meal, see a point of interest or iconic landmark, and be able to summarize the place to someone.
Naturally, in Connecticut I begged Allison to stop at Yale. That definitely counts as a point of interest, right? It does if you’re a college campus fanatic like me! I decided it was pretty funny to pull up to Yale’s campus and ask for directions to Yale. The Ivy leaguers were unsure of what to do with me. After tromping around Yale, we had stern instructions to visit Frank Pepe’s Pizzeria. A text came through a moment too late that I should have ordered the clam pizza—who knew?—and so we had already ordered pepperoni & mushroom. Still a pretty freaking delicious choice if I do say so myself.
We then paused in Mystic, Connecticut, where the famous Julia Roberts film was shot. We strolled along the waterfront, and then caught the happy hour food menu at a converted Gas Station called M Bar. Mystic is the sort of town where people say things like, “We summer here every year.” Idyllic, in a lovely way.
Wheels spinning again, we hightailed it further east, making our way towards Providence, Rhode Island. Allison and I looked at each other while driving, “What do you know about Rhode Island?” We stopped in Providence briefly, just long enough to snag free cookies and a lecture from an artist at Rhode Island School of Design, before moving along to Boston.
We spent our day in Boston exploring the city, eating good food, pretending we were students at Harvard, and taking silly polaroids with our friends.
Morning came quickly, and we were off on our next leg of the trip to Portland, Maine. Maine is actually the only state I’d previously been to, so I was pretty much down to do whatever Allison wanted. We talked it over and both felt very confident that a lobster roll was a must — when in Rome…
With full bellies and full hearts on my first ever lobster roll and a local beer, we hopped back into our Jeep and headed towards Portland’s famous lighthouse.
Walking back to the car from the lighthouse, we discussed that we didn’t know much about New Hampshire, but that the White Mountains seemed perfect for viewing fall leaves. So we cruised the mountain roads and headed towards Lincoln, New Hampshire, a town nestled in the mountains.
We stopped into a local brewery and grabbed beers while chatting with the bartender about where would be best for us to sleep in the car and catch the sunrise. “Fifteen minutes back the direction you came from, on your left after the hairpin turn.” Hah! Mountain directions always make me laugh.
We did our best to follow them, found a safe spot, and tried to cozy ourselves up for another short night’s sleep. I was determined to see all the leaves in the best light, so when the alarm clock woke us again, I turned on the engine, and cranked the heat. We found a great place to see the sun rise, and watched as the leaves grew more and more lovely.
On the way to Vermont, we stopped several time to photograph the scenery. Once we made it there, we wanted to do something “very fall.” At first we thought it might be a corn maze, but we as we talked about whether that was the best bang for our buck, we passed a sign that said, “Pick you own apples, 4.8 miles.” That was it!
In Florida, where I grew up, you can pick your own strawberries and oranges, but never apples! Burt’s Apple farm in Vermont had the nicest farmers. They gave us maps showing us which of their trees had apples left, and gave us bags to collect our bounty. I picked so many apples, and also snagged an apple cider donut with a cup of warm apple cider.
After a wonderful evening in Burlington, we decided, on a whim to swing up through Montreal, Quebec, and then headed back home. The weather was still very cold and gray as we made our way south towards Jersey to return the car. On the way, we were spoiled with many more fall leaves in the Adirondacks, and the sun began to show. We drove mostly in quiet, allowing the trip details and memories settle over us—we couldn’t really have done fall any better than this.
