By the time I left Bangor, I had abandoned my original plan of taking a couple of weeks to slowly make my way back to Richmond. Between working on the road, driving, planning, and living in the camper, I was tired.
I was ready to go home. I stayed on Interstate 95 until Lewiston, Maine.
Then I did what I often do.
I ignored my RV GPS.
The freeway would have been the sensible choice.
But after weeks of wandering New England’s small towns, coastlines, and backroads, I wasn’t quite ready to spend my days staring at tractor trailers and exit signs.
My Garmin was programmed with the height and weight of my camper and would have happily guided me south using the safest route possible. Unfortunately, it also seemed convinced that every problem in life could be solved with a freeway.
Google Maps, on the other hand, promised winding roads, small towns, and a more interesting journey.
So I pointed the truck toward the backroads and settled in for the drive.
That evening, I found myself at Oxford Casino in Maine. I pulled into the RV parking area behind the casino, parked under a light, and called it a night. Normally I would have wandered inside for dinner, but by the time I arrived, bed sounded far more appealing.
The next morning, I grabbed a coffee and continued south.
Choosing the Less Predictable Route
Somewhere along the winding roads of New Hampshire, I found myself questioning my decision.
The roads twisted through forests and around lakes, and progress was noticeably slower than it would have been on the interstate.
At the same time, the scenery was stunning, so I embraced the uncertainty and kept moving forward anyway. The less predictable path often brings challenges, but it almost always brings experiences too.
I stopped in Meredith, New Hampshire for breakfast and coffee at 48 Main Cafe & Creperie before continuing on through rolling hills, dense forests, and beautiful homes tucked away on large private properties.
In Springfield, Vermont, I crossed a bridge overlooking a waterfall and decided to pull over for a closer look. The town itself appeared to have seen better days, but the falls were worth the stop.
The day continued much the same way. Winding roads. Small towns. Scenic views. The kind of places you never see from the interstate.
It was also the day Google Maps began testing my commitment to the scenic route.
Somewhere near Port Jervis, New York, I found myself staring at a stone railroad underpass with a clearance of just nine feet.
My truck camper is many wonderful things, but nine feet tall is not one of them.
There wasn’t much to do except stop, laugh, and turn around.
At the time, I assumed that would be the last routing surprise of the trip.
I was wrong.
Eventually I found myself in Manchester Center, Vermont, where I stopped for dinner at The Social House. I pulled up a stool at the bar, ordered dinner and a Vermont cider, and spent the evening chatting with the bartender.
Sadly, I’ve since learned the restaurant has closed, which is a shame because it was one of those places that leaves a lasting impression.
My wonderful husband decided I’d probably had enough adventure for one day and booked me a room at a Fairfield Inn so I could rest and work with reliable internet the following morning.
Progress, Coffee, and Campgrounds
The next day was less about travel and more about making progress.
I worked from the hotel until checkout, then stopped in Ellenville, New York, where I settled into Twin Ravens Coffee Company for brunch and a few more hours of work.
Eventually, I pointed the truck toward Stephens State Park in New Jersey.
By the time I arrived, darkness had already settled over the campground.
Years earlier, during my first year of full-time travel, I met another nomad at a campground in Arkansas. Over the years our paths crossed again in Arizona, Texas, Virginia, and Wyoming. He helped me with my brakes at one point and even watched over my camper when I flew to Puerto Rico for a month.
Stephens State Park happened to be near his childhood home.
Even though it was late, he rode over on his motorcycle and spent a couple of hours catching up. We traded travel stories, talked about where life had taken us since we’d last met, and as is typical, it felt as though no time had passed at all.
The next morning, I made coffee and walked down to the river.
There was something peaceful about sitting there alone before the day began. Just me, a cup of coffee, and the sound of the water moving past.
Eventually, I packed up camp and pointed the truck south.
When Google Maps Gets It Wrong
Not long after leaving Stephens State Park, Google Maps decided it had found another shortcut.
What it actually found was the Riverton–Belvidere Bridge crossing the Delaware River.
As I approached the narrow steel bridge, the attendant took one look at my truck camper and immediately came out of the small white structure beside the bridge.
“There’s no way you’ll fit.”
Considering the bridge’s maximum clearance of 11 feet 6 inches, she was right.
So I turned around.
Again.
At that point, I was beginning to suspect my GPS devices and I had very different ideas about what constituted a good route.
Fortunately, years of RV travel have taught me that turning around isn’t failure. It’s simply part of the journey.
Sometimes the road you want to take isn’t the road you can take.
The Roads We Choose
Looking back, I don’t remember the delays nearly as much as I remember the experiences wrapped around them.
The coffee shops.
The waterfalls.
The conversations.
The campground by the river.
The friend who showed up after dark on a motorcycle just to catch up.
For years, I’ve relied on maps, GPS units, and carefully planned routes to get where I’m going. Yet some of my favorite travel memories have happened when things didn’t go according to plan.
The older I get, the more I realize that neither GPS was entirely right.
The Garmin would have kept me on the freeway. Google Maps occasionally tried to send me places my truck camper had no business going. In the end, the real navigation came from somewhere in between.
Experience.
Instinct.
A willingness to adapt when circumstances changed. The roads less traveled don’t always lead where you expect.
Sometimes they lead to waterfalls.
Sometimes they lead to low bridges.
Sometimes they lead to people who become lifelong friends. And occasionally they lead to situations that make for really good stories later.
For someone who has spent years traveling, I’ve learned that home isn’t always a destination.
Sometimes it’s a familiar face in an unfamiliar place.
Sometimes it’s a campsite beside a river.
Sometimes it’s simply knowing that wherever the road takes you next, you’ll find your footing again.
And sometimes it leads to nearly sliding off a mountain.
But that’s a story for another time.
New England Road Trip Route: Bangor Maine to Stephens State Park in Hacketstown, NJ
What’s Next on the New England Road Trip
Gettysburg wasn’t new to me. I’d driven through before and explored parts of the battlefield on my own. This time, however, I slowed down and embraced the full visitor experience. What I discovered wasn’t a different Gettysburg, but a much deeper understanding of the story behind a place that had already left an impression on me.
View the full route, maps, and all stops: New England Road Trip Itinerary.
