I never got around to posting this on the forum, just on Facebook, so for posterity...here's the story of Jarek, Dan, myself and some of the other Northeast crew heading to Vermont for the weekend...for the three of us, on a whim.PROLOGUE
It’s noon, a sunny September Friday. My parents are down in Cape May for the weekend at a wedding, and I have the house to myself. The pool is crystal clear, the patio inviting, beers in the fridge. It’s finally my opportunity to have a little NJLR gathering at my house.
I knew that the NELRC contingent was coordinating a Vermont trip this weekend, and I’d considered going, but I was not super confident in Spenny’s fitness to go, not with him being my only car. I’d put it aside as a thought – nice to do, but not something I was going to do.
I call Jarek. “Wanna come over tonight, have some beers by the pool?”
“Can’t man, Dan and I are going to Vermont tonight.”
At this point, my mood changed. Well, I’m not one to miss out on adventure, and certainly a sort of maiden voyage of OM617 version 2.0 would be an adventure. I looked at my watch. Work got out in five hours. I could catch the express train home and be at George’s by 7:30 to head up.
“Shit man, I’m in.”
It was the most spontaneous travel thing I’d done in years, and for all the trips I do, it filled me with euphoria.CHAPTER 1
I get home, throw stuff in a bag, pull some stuff out of the back of the Rangie, throw more stuff in the back, check the fluids, lock the doors, and leave a note on the counter for my parents, who I have so far not told I was going. If I’m winging it, I’m winging it all out.
An hour’s ride up 287 to Wyckoff, and I found George’s shop dark and Jarek still 45 minutes away. I do a spot of grocery shopping across the road – sodas, PB&J, Clif bars – and go and wait.
Our tasks are focused. Jarek’s new steel rims are totally out of balance, and on 37s things are all over the place. By the time we start balancing, it’s going on 10.
We screw around, get things done, and bid farewell to George, and a few minutes later, New Jersey.CHAPTER 2
The best thing about my long wheelbase RRC is the 4.2 litre V8. It’s got that extra oomph over the 3.9, great for highway cruising.
Jarek’s OM617 has zero oomph. And we’re convoying.
It’s past midnight as we cross the Tappan Zee. The road through Fairfield County is clear, and soon we’re bearing north at New Haven for the Massachusetts line. It’s balls to the wall, if you could call a top speed of 50MPH balls to the wall. There’s a rest stop break (4-pack of Monster), a petrol/diesel break (5 choices of octane for petrol, 1 choice of rubbish diesel), and then we’re in Vermont and the Interstate is dark and we’re practically alone, only the two of us on our CBs for company.
We get to the exit for Rockingham, go up windy residential roads to the campground, and try and find the group site. It’s 5:30 AM, and we try to keep from waking anyone up as we wind through the sites. After driving a full loop and not seeing the group site, we pull over to the side of the road in front of the camp office and bunk down in the back of the trucks. I turn off my 6:00 AM work alarm on my phone and try and get what sleep I can.