After having spent time at the Roosevelt’s various homes, the take-away feeling is a reinforcement of my belief that one person can make a huge difference in this world. And although these were not “ordinary people”, they were very human, with likely as many foibles and faults as remarkable accomplishments. Much of this sense was conveyed by the docents of the National Park Service that were stationed in each of the houses to explain what we were viewing and to answer questions. In every case, you could feel a warm affection for the Roosevelts that made conveying all the details they knew about them and their family a joy and an honor. I understand there is one docent who is close to 100 at Springwood who knew the Roosevelts personally, and I would love to hear some of the stories she can tell. I’ve been to National Parks all over the country, and I’ve never before experienced this closeness to their subject matter that emanated from the Warm Springs, Campobello, and Hyde Park rangers. Kudos to the National Park Service for doing their job so well, especially in this time of limited funding.

Val Kill, Eleanor Roosevelt’s Home in Hyde Park

Lake in front of Val Kill

Eleanor Roosevelt biggest wish in life was to be useful, and nothing illustrates that better than the home that she created for herself at Val Kill. It is located several miles from the Hyde Park estate of Springwood, which was officially her home. In reality, it was her mother-in-law’s home, and Sara Roosevelt ran it and her family like a general. Thus, Eleanor jumped at the chance when Franklin suggested that she and her friends build a cottage on a piece of property he owned in Hyde Park on a small body of water, the Fall-Kill, a place where the family would come for picnicking and summer outings and sports. It ultimately became part of an experiment to see whether FDR’s ideas that small local industries could help keep farming communities viable during hard times. Eleanor and her friends built a cottage and a small factory for building furniture, and hired local people to work there.

The factory lasted for a few years, but when it was necessary to shut it down, Eleanor converted the factory portion into living quarters for herself, and it was here that at last she was able to create a home of her own. It is a simple home, and many of the rooms remind me of those of my own grandmothers’ cottages. Nothing matches; Eleanor Roosevelt felt that her friends weren’t all of one size, so why should her furniture be. It’s a versatile home, with many small cozy sitting areas. You get the feeling that conversation, not ceremony, was the most important thing in her life. She also decorated her walls primarily with photographs, or with paintings of people she cared for. Her dining room is covered with Christmas cards from the White House staff.

Eleanor Roosevelt’s Desk, where she wrote hundreds of her “My Day” columns, wrote speeches, books and correspondence.

Dining Room — often set buffet style because it was difficult to know how many people might be coming to eat. ER was notorious for running into town for an errand, and inviting many of the people that she met there to come over for dinner. She had a very patient and devoted cook.

The most impressive moment of this tour came when the guide pointed to the two chairs at the far end of the sitting room below. (Note the blue and pink chairs sitting by the lamp with the orange shade.) It was at that table that John Kennedy met with Eleanor Roosevelt in 1960 to ask for her support with his Presidential campaign. She held out until he agreed to take a more aggressive position regarding civil rights. Even though neither lived to see it happen, it was the beginning of Presidential involvement in ultimately achieving civil rights. There was a thrilling sense in the entire house of the history that was made by this remarkable woman and how much it contributed to all she achieved.

Having started our year’s travels with a stop at Warm Springs, Georgia to visit FDR’s Little White House (at the site where he built a polio rehabilitation center and also where he died), and having seen Campobello, the Roosevelt family’s summer home, earlier on this trip, it was only fitting to stop by Hyde Park to see the other notable homes of this remarkable family, the Roosevelt family estate at Springwood, and to see Eleanor Roosevelt’s private refuge at Val Kill.

FDR was born at Springwood and it was Home to him for his entire life. It was the place he could come to for rejuvenation and peace…as well as to entertain heads of state, like the King and Queen of England, Winston Churchill, the Canadian Prime Minister and European royalty. Over his lifetime Springwood was extended and renovated, primarily to accommodate the Roosevelt’s growing family. Springwood belonged to his mother Sara, and she maintained ownership of it and the estate, held in trust for Franklin, until her death, only four years before FDR’s. Thus, Eleanor never had a home she could truly call her own until Val Kill ( see next post.)

Springwood, Hyde Park, NY

Springwood was built in the middle of the 19th century, and thus the heavy, dark influence of Victorian decor is evident throughout. In general, the rule seems to be that if there is a surface available, cover it with something.

Sculpture of young Franklin, given to the family by a French sculptor. Note the bird collection on the back wall. FDR was an avid bird collector, but his family did not allow him to shoot the bird for his collection until he had researched the bird thoroughly, and then he was required to stuff it himself.

The Snuggery, where Sara Roosevelt met with servants in the morning to give orders and to pursue her correspondence or reading.

Dresden Room — Downstairs sitting room; note piano in corner covered with photos.

Large sitting room at east which occupies the entire east end of the home, where many receptions were held for heads of state.

Upstairs, the house contains many wings and bedrooms, including a wing of servants’ quarters. All the rooms are furnished with elegance but not extravagance, the kind of furnishings you’d find in an upscale B&B dedicated to historical accuracy.

The Pink Room – a suite for visiting dignitaries

FDR’s boyhood room

Franklin and Eleanor’s Bedroom

Sara Roosevelt’s Bedroom, where FDR was born, later to become FDR’s bedroom after his illness.

Eleanor Roosevelt’s Bedroom, adjacent to FDR’s.

Eleanor’s room is by far the simplest of them all in decoration. The pictures she preferred were photographs of family and close friends.

While the visit to Springwood gave a good sense of the life FDR experienced growing up in Hyde Park, it was overshadowed, IMHO, by the Franklin Roosevelt Presidential Library and Museum.The museum was built on the grounds of the Springwood estate in 1939-40 by Sara Roosevelt for her son, and it is unique in that it is the only Presidential library which was actually used by a sitting President. We were told that it would take at least an hour and a half to go through the museum, and we could easily have spent twice that amount of time. The artifacts they have on display present a true living experience of the history they speak of, and they have artfully woven together both Franklin’s and Eleanor’s story. We were so engrossed with the early years that we had to make the tough choice of leaving to go see Val Kill with the remaining hours of our afternoon, or forging our way through the years of World War II. We chose Val Kill, but it is definitely a museum worth dedicating a day to. Check it out online at http://www.fdrlibrary.marist.edu where you will find a virtual tour that gives you an idea of what is there. It is definitely an “I’ve got to come back again” kind of museum.

We couldn’t have chosen a lovelier day to visit the Vermont State Capital, the 40th we’ve now seen. We were a bit tentative because our plans required us to bring our entire rig into Montpelier, which required finding two adjacent parking spaces free, along with enough space to get in and out of them. The city apparently doesn’t get really moving until about 10:30 because we had no trouble parking directly across from the Capital around 9:30AM.

Security was also minimal; we walked right in and eventually the Sergeant-at-Arms caught up with us on the second floor, mainly just to give a welcome. By this time, we’d had the opportunity to view one of the most unique rooms, a gallery that contained art commissioned by the state to commemorate the most significant Civil War Battles in which Vermont troops participated. The largest was a mural of The Battle of Cedar Creek painted by Julian Scott in 1974 which fills nearly one wall.

The Battle of Cedar Creek by Julian Scott

In another prominent hallway is found the painting of Howard Dean (Governor from 1991-2003), in a unusually casual pose (as most paintings of governors go) sitting in a canoe.

The legislative chambers both reflect the major restoration done in 1980 to bring back the glory of the original strongly Victorian decor of the late 1800’s. The chairs in the back of the Representatives Chamber are for the Senate when they have a joint session. Otherwise, the public is permitted to sit in them.

Representatives Chamber

Senate Chamber

FDR’s Campobello Cottage

Franklin Delano Roosevelt was first brought to Campobello Island by his parents as an infant, and for most of his life up to the time he contracted polio there, their family cottage was the focal point of all his summers. (Afterwards, Warm Springs, Georgia was the place he went to as he dealt with the paralysis of his legs that resulted from polio. During his years as President, he only returned to Campobello three times.) His mother gave Franklin and Eleanor a cottage next to the Roosevelt family cottage as a wedding gift. While the original Roosevelt cottage of FDR’s parents was demolished in the 1950’s, FDR’s has been lovingly restored and this was the site that we visited.

Visitor Center for Roosevelt Campobello International Site

The Roosevelt Campobello International Park is a unique collaboration between Canada and the United State who, as with Alexander Graham Bell, both consider FDR as one of their own. It is a park on Canadian soil that is jointly funded and maintained by both countries. The FDR residence is remarkably simple, considering the wealth of the family. Granted, it’s a “cottage” with 18 bedrooms, seven fireplaces and three stories, and required the services of 7-8 servants, but the bedrooms are very simply furnished and the emphasis in every room is on comfort over elegance. As I hadn’t found any photographs of the interior of the cottage online, I was surprised that photography was allowed within the house, so I splurged with my camera. Enjoy!

Front Drawing Room

Living Room

Living Room with View of the Bay of Fundy

When I see a piano in a cottage, I can envision hours of family time around the piano.

Dining Room The Roosevelts never entertained heads of state at Campobello, only family gatherings.

School Room The children had a tutor living with them during the summer and attended school each day.

Kitchen

New stove installed for FDR’s last visit in 1939. Note the copper hot Awater heater.

After touring the cottage and the grounds, we enjoyed another lunch (lobster!) and then went on to visit the lighthouse at the easternmost end of the island, one of the most photographed in Canada. You can walk to it IF the tide is out, you’re skilled at walking on wet stones covered with seaweed and climbing rusty ladders between two small islands to get there. We opted to stay on land and take photos.

There is so much more to know about Alexander Graham Bell than most people are aware of. His invention of the telephone was only the beginning, and in his opinion was less important than the work he did to bring speech to the deaf. Early in his life, through the influence of his grandfather, he became very interested in speech. He taught lessons in elocution, eventually teaching as a professor of Vocal Physiology and Elocution at Boston University. His research eventually led to working with devices to aid speech, which ultimately brought him to the telephone. Once his fortune was established, he moved on to other inventions in the fields of aviation and hydrofoils, among other things. He also did medical research to develop techniques to teach speech to the deaf.

Prototypes of all these devices were on view, and they were fascinating, but in my opinion they were overshadowed by the details of Bell’s life beyond his laboratory. He married one of his deaf students (he gave her all of his shares except 10 in the newly formed Bell Telephone Company plus a tiny silver model of the first telephone as a wedding gift) and together built a beautiful summer residence not far from the museum on Baddeck, Nova Scotia. The home is private and still held by the Bell Family. Videos of interviews of Bell’s daughters and friends and colleagues stressed how much joy Bell found in life–in his work, his family, and his friends. Though his wife teased him for being a “night owl” as he worked so late into the night on his inventions, he was also a person who could put away his work when he was enjoying his time with his family, and he took great joy in playing with his children and grandchildren. Though he eventually became a naturalized U.S. citizen, Canada claims his as their own, as it was to Canada that the family moved when tuberculosis had already claimed two of his brothers and threatened Bell’s own life as a young man, and it is also where he invented the telephone. The Alexander Graham Bell National Historic Site is a beautiful memorial to this remarkable man who made the world more accessible not just for the deaf but for all of us.

Alexander Graham Bell National Historic Site in Baddeck, Nova Scotia

Bell built his home Beinn Bhreagh in the hills across the harbor from the site of the present museum.

Model of his airplane, the Silver Dart. Bell is hailed as the first inventor to bring flight to Canada.

A model of his hydrofoil that set a world marine speed record in 1919 of 70 mph, a record that stood for 10 years.

After working our way quickly to the ultimate destination of our trip, Cape Breton in Nova Scotia, we studied the weather carefully and decided the next day would be the best for donning helmets and motorcycle jackets and doing the 190 miles around the Cabot Trail, conveniently located less than a mile from our campground. Despite a few foggy patches at the beginning, it was a day spent as close to heaven as you can get on earth. The scenery is breathtaking, and my photos barely do it any justice. The Cabot Trail is like taking the best of the California, Oregon and Washington State coastlines, mixing them together with the quiet peace and beauty of the San Juan Islands and concentrating them all together in this one tiny island. We couldn’t stop at every scenic overlook and did bare justice to the miles of hiking trails that take you further inland. You could spend an entire vacation, however long, exploring the Cabo Trail and the Cape Breton Highlands National Park. It’s an “I’ve got to come back” kind of place.

Lookout over the Gulf of St. Lawrence

Small fishing villages abound. We ate lunch at The Happy Clam overlooking this collection of fishing boats.

The Cabot Trail wanders along, hugging the coastline as much as possible.

Looking out over the highlands. 10 feet of snow is not unusual here. The roads never close, because about 1600 people live on the island all year.

The happiest home I’ve ever seen. I’d love to meet the people who live in it!

The Lonely Shieling–a replica of the kind of shelter shepherds would use in Scotland where the sheepherder and sometimes the sheep would find shelter from inclement or very hot weather.

Along the trail to the shieling (above)

While Quebec was one of the main reasons we had brought along the Spyder, after our experience with city-driving in Montreal, we were delighted to discover that our campground provided a free shuttle to the ferry which in 15 minutes could take us right to the Vieux Ville (Old City) of Quebec. We jumped at the chance and donned the best walking shoes we had.

View of Quebec from Ferry

Quebec is a city of hills and stairs, a living version of Chutes and Ladders. It’s divided into the Neuve Ville (the newer, commercial part of town situated farther back from the river,) and the Vieux Ville which has the historic streets and buildings dating back to the 17^th and 18^th centuries. The streets are cobbled, and shops of all types and sizes fill every building, alcove and alley. There are also rows of semi-permanent kiosks that fill the wider streets, such as the one where we had a lovely lunch at an outdoor café. Street musicians abound; within a few blocks we heard piano, accordion, guitar and harp.

Rue de Petit-Champlain

Tempting Shops

Climbing to the Chateau Frontenac

If you imagine San Francisco squished on both sides hard enough to push the center of the city up about twice as high in the middle, you get a good idea of Quebec. Our primary goal was to reach La Citadelle, the huge hill high above the river where the fortifications still stand that once made Quebec the most daunting city to attack.

Aerial View of La Citadelle

Chateau Frontenac

When we departed the ferry, our goal was “Conquer La Citadelle!” and we took off with enthusiasm up our first set of stairs onto Rue Petit Champlain where we were quickly distracted by the numerous shops designed to distract tourists. Our second set of stairs brought us to what I though was the foot of La Citadelle, but when I looked up, it was just as high above us as ever. By the time we finally reached the Chateau Frontenac, the huge, historic hotel with at least a thousand rooms that dominates the Vieux Ville, I looked up and saw La Citadel still in the distance. With two more sets of stairs and some pretty steep inclines, we finally reached the outer star-shaped wall separating the fort from the rest of the world, and I forget who persuaded whom that we really didn’t need to go any further up the hill. By then we were on the Plains of Abraham where the British finally defeated the French in 1759.

Stairs to La Citadelle

Plains of Abraham…looking out over the St. Lawrence River

At this time (256 years later) the Plains of Abraham (a huge expanse of hillside surrounding La Citadelle now part of the Parc des Champs-de-Bataille) was filled with some heavy metal music, part of the ongoing music festival taking over the town for the weekend. Standing at the wall with the St. Lawrence River below, it was easy to understand how the French believed their location was invincible and withstood the British for so long.

Having conquered La Citadelle as much as we wanted to, we meandered down charming streets, stopped for a lunch here, an ice cream there, wandered in and out of shops, and popped into a few more historic sites, like the Place Royale and Terrace Dufferin, enjoying a Starbucks as we watched a street gymnast, while looking out over the St. Lawrence River. I found a delightful gallery that carried only Inuit art and purchased a small print. It was a lovely but tiring day. We were more than happy to meet the 4:30PM ferry back, and to have pizza delivered to our campsite. Tomorrow we head towards Cape Breton.

Despite the fact that Canada is known for its maple sugar and maple syrup, the title of this post does NOT refer to our sweet experiences in Montreal but instead to its traffic. It is monstrously congested and it moves like molasses. After negotiating Ottawa with relative ease by motorcycle and managing to find some robustly scenic routes, we had high hopes for Montreal. Wrong.

Our afternoon tour of the city began well enough with a fairly rapid entry to the east side of town, aiming for the 1967 Olympic Village. It’s impossible to miss miles away even across the St. Lawrence River, with its massive stadium rooftop removing Montreal Tower (see below) hovering over the huge park that encompasses what was once part of the Olympic Village. It is the world’s tallest inclined tower at 574 feet.

The tower is impressive, even if it’s performance has been less than stellar. For me, it highlights that Montreal, aside from being a major center of commerce and culture for Canada, as well as home to several highly-regarded universities, is consummately a city designed for athletic endeavors. Aside from the Olympic Games, it hosts marathons and triathlons on its lovely winding roadways, as well as international and national road races on a world-class race track. Its streets are covered with cyclists and runners, and it even has an island that appears to be dedicated to all these sports. If its traffic could move as fast as its cyclists or even its runners, it would really be a city on the move.

Instead, from the tower we crawled along Sherbrooke down into the center of town to find McGill University and the McCord Museum, a small museum that covers Montreal’s heritage and history, with equal attention paid to the First People’s contributions as well as its builders of commercial dominance. Throughout the museum, there was a theme of clothing that people wore throughout the different eras of Montreal’s history.

Representative items from Montreal’s history

1920’s Dress

Inuit Parka

Chief’s Ceremonial Dress

We emerged from the museum just in time to experience Montreal’s rush hour traffic, and spent the next half hour moving about a mile that finally brought us to Montreal’s racetrack island. The Circuit Gilles Villeneuve is located on Notre Dame Island and is most noted (for us) to be the Montreal home of the Formula One Canadian Grand Prix. This was Roger’s first opportunity to actually drive a vehicle around a racetrack course, and he enjoyed every minute of it. Fortunately, we were dodging other cyclists and skateboard riders (or perhaps they were dodging us) instead of little insect-looking cars going 200 mph. Even without the crowds and the obnoxiously loud muffler-less cars whizzing by, there was still a feeling excitement emanating from the road. It was a super natural high.

After that, the detours and construction and missing signs that added about 30 km to our original trip home and the delays of crawling traffic sucked the joy out of Montreal. We were truly bedraggled when we got back to our campsite, whipped but at least in one piece. I think we forgot to eat dinner, but at least we slept well.

Fifteen years, we breezed through Ottawa on our way to my 55th birthday celebration with my family at Blaney Park, Michigan, where I’d celebrated my 5th birthday. We were on a two-wheel motorcycle then, and I remember how awesome the Parliameny building was, and how beautiful the gardens on the lawn extending down to the Ottawa River.

Today’s Ottawa was full of anticipation for the Pan-American Games that would start at the end of the week. We arrived in time to set up camp in Camp Hither Hills, about 12 km south of Ottawa, unloaded the Spyder and headed for Parliament Hill. The plaza in front of Parliament was filled with demonstrators and there was a strong police presence which slowed traffic to a crawl, so we headed to the next thing on our tour list, the Rideau Falls and Canal. Ottawa has maximized the beauty afforded by the canal that was built alongside the Rideau River on its way to the falls where it joins the Ottawa River by building parkways on either side of the canal and creating a lovely space for bikers, walkers, roller-bladers and a scenic motorcycle ride through lucious plantings. We started with a visit to the Rideau Falls and rode inland along Colonel By Parkway to the end of the canal near the University of Carleton where the Rideau River enters it. Unfortunately there were no parking areas along the parkway so that we could examine the locks, but the weather was perfect and the ride memorable.

Rideau Falls

Rideau Canal

Colonel By Parkway

Afterwards we found a delightful Greek restaurant for a meal of lemon soup, Greek salad and spanokapita, just as good as any Greektown meal in Detroit. Canada has many ethnic groups represented in its population, especially its larger cities, and the dining options are awesome. We arrived back at the campground just before a rain storm moved in and enjoyed sleeping that night with the periodic patter of rain on the roof. By morning it was gone and we headed for Montreal under sunny skies.