Williamstown 2023

We had long planned to visit Allie in mid-September 2023 to fit into our mutually busy schedules. It was the only good chance to see her before we would all go to Colorado for Sara’s wedding in November. Way back in March I bought tickets for a Bruce Springsteen concert at Camden Yards for Saturday, Sep. 9, figuring we would visit Allie the next weekend. Sometime later, Barb learned she was invited to the wedding of a (then current) work colleague, Jeremy, in Williamstown in far northwestern Massachusetts also on Sep. 9. 

We concocted an itinerary where Barb and I would drive up to Williamstown on Sep. 7, I would fly back to Baltimore from Albany (the nearest airport) for the concert, then back to Albany on Sunday the 10th, then we would drive to Boston. Barb and I originally considered going somewhere (Martha’s Vineyard? Cape Cod?) during the week while Allie was working, then being in Boston with her over the next weekend, but she objected, saying she wanted the chance for a getaway. So we shifted to spending the weekend in Portland, Maine with her and just lounging around her apartment, The Kensington, in Boston for the week while she worked. We could get the nice guest apartment, the pool deck would be open and Barb was OK with taking it easy there while I would get to live out my urban fantasies of living downtown amid all the restaurant and activity opportunities. As it turned out, it would also be Allie’s last week of working at Cirkul, the water bottle company, before taking a new job at Lume, the women’s deodorant company. 

In the weeks before the trip, our neighbor Mark agreed to attend the Springsteen concert with me, including transporting me to and from BWI airport which greatly simplified my plans. I was able to cancel the airport hotel reservations I had made and would get a couple more nights at home to tidy up, feed Manny and relieve Mark of that worry. Allie helpfully provided a roster of potential restaurants in Boston and she made reservations at the ones we mutually selected. I purposely left the days in Boston open to serendipity and expected to get a fair amount of time to work on Billzpage and actually read my library book, The Dawn of Everything.  I looked into Portland restaurant options a bit too late to make reservations but we had an idea of which ones we might try. Barb found a library exhibit in Brunswick, Maine she wanted to visit on our Saturday there. Our plans, it seemed, were set.

Wednesday, Sep. 6

While packing and preparing for the trip the evening before departing we learned that Bruce Springsteen canceled his Baltimore concert along with the remainder of his September dates due to an ulcer. We deliberated a bit and decided that I would take Barb up to Williamstown and stay, but I didn’t have to go to the wedding. Mark was generous and flexible in watching Manny and the house. I canceled my flights and took a rain check on going to the Rathskeller in Elkridge with Mark. 

Thursday, Sep. 7 – Drive to Williamstown

The drive to Williamstown was quite easy and pretty. We skirted New York City, crossed the Hudson near West Point and came up the east side of the Hudson Valley. We made it in about 7 hours, arriving around 4pm.

1896 House Country Inn turned out to be a rather shabby roadside motel, far from the impression we had from their website. The photos and descriptions on their website didn’t lie, exactly, but they certainly stretched the truth. Our “whisper quiet central air conditioning with individual controls” was a small noisy window unit struggling to fend off the 90 degree temperatures outside.

We skipped the idea of having dinner in the motel’s pub/restaurant – it was too warm and there was almost no one there. Instead, we went to Grazie in North Adams on the recommendation of a Williamstown liquor store proprietor where I bought some bourbon for my journey. I enjoyed my linguine with clams at Grazie but Barb was less impressed with her shrimp scampi appetizer. We were off to a so-so start.

We returned to our room and prepared to watch the US Open Women’s Semifinals on my computer once I figured out that would work. There was no ESPN on the motel’s Direct TV service but the wifi was decent and my Xfinity account proved its worth. The matches started at 7pm; I watched the first set of Coco Gauff’s match and then sat through the 45-minute delay caused by an environmental protester who glued his feet to the concrete floor.There was a lot of uncertainty about what was causing the delay but when I saw a shot of the protester sitting with a ring of cops around him and a lot of spectators with cellphones very close by, I concluded that there was no bomb or threat of violence and maybe he had glued himself to the chair. Barb was shocked when I was proved nearly right – I hadn’t thought about gluing feet to the concrete. 

The match was just getting underway again around 9pm when a thunderstorm rolled in and we lost power, shortly after Barb had showered and gotten ready for bed. Good thing. She tried to sleep in the stuffy room. I sat outside on a rocking chair and watched cars go by in the rain, the only lights visible. I figured out I could listen to US Open radio on my phone. It was lucky my phone was fully charged – it was also the only light we had. I cheered on Coco Gauff to victory and went to bed as the Keys-Sabalenka match got started. I nodded off as Keys ran away with the first set.

The power came back on at 1:30am. The Keys-Sabalenka match had just concluded with Sabalenka pulling out second and third set tiebreakers. Bad luck for Keys; I guess she needed my rooting spirit after all. I was able to properly sleep after that with both the a/c and my cpap machine on. Barb was also much relieved to have a/c. We’re not made for camping. 

Friday, Sep. 8

We had breakfast at the Chef’s Hat, a local diner also recommended by the liquor store man. It was decent but not worth doing again. My corned beef hash was straight from a Dinty Moore can, I think.

We figured the main activity for the day would be to go to The Clark, a well-reviewed art museum in Williamstown and the #1 thing to do. Before heading there, we decided to drive up Mount Greylock, the highest point in Massachusetts and a noted scenic drive. We made it to the top and the Veterans Memorial there but by the time we did Barb was very sleepy. She slept in the car while I explored and just as a convoy or 20 or more 3-wheeled motorcycles rumbled into the parking lot. I climbed the tower in a hurry to beat the bikers but the views were a little hazy. Bascom Lodge was near the summit but I did not try to go in — I was under the impression it was closed for the season but I might be wrong. In any case, I didn’t think I had time to explore that far. I hope I didn’t miss much.

The Appalachian Trail came through the mountaintop so I took the opportunity to once more walk a few steps along it. It was the first time I noticed the cute little Appalachian Trail logo and north/south signs. I also captured a hiker rushing to get out of the photo.

We went to The Clark, a surprisingly fine art museum associated with Williams College. We strolled the galleries and I listened to audio descriptions of many of the paintings but we never really figured out the rhyme or reason for the collection, other than it was a bunch of items Robert Sterling Clark and his wife Francine liked and acquired over their lifetimes. I was drawn to a few of the paintings enough to snap photos and do some later research. One that struck me was The Sleeping Girl by Renoir. Believe it or not, I was most impressed with the cat’s face — good job Renoir!

The painting of King Melchior Sailing to the Holy Land struck me for its vivid colors, interesting composition and 15th century origin, one of the older works in the collection. I also love the monk in his own little boat in the foreground. What’s his story?

Brutus Condemning His Sons to Death was interesting to me for several reasons. I wasn’t familiar with this Brutus (he’s not the one who killed Caesar) or the historical founding of the Roman Republic in 509 BCE, much less the Tarquinian Conspiracy which led to the execution of two of Brutus’ sons depicted in the painting (does this mean I have to listen to Mike Duncan’s The History of Rome podcast after all?). I’d also never heard of the artist, Guillaume Lethiere, who “was born in the French colony of Guadeloupe; his father was a white bureaucrat and his mother was a formerly enslaved woman. He would become one of the first artists of African descent to be widely recognized throughout Europe.” The gruesome severed head presaged the violence of the French Revolution by several years, and the subject of the painting was also used by one of Lethiere’s contemporaries and competitors, Jacques Louis David in his The Lictors Bring to Brutus the Bodies of His Sons painted a year later.

I found Renoir’s Self Portrait haunting for some reason. I was drawn back to it several times. There’s something very contemporary in his gaze, particularly the eyes. Good job, Renoir!

The last of these I’ll inflict upon you is Renoir’s Sunset, mainly because I just love sunsets. I didn’t realize as I was taking photos that I gravitated to so many Renoir paintings but so be it. I guess maybe I have more in common with the Clarks than I realized.

The Clark’s physical buildings and surrounding grounds were very impressive and we spent nearly five hours at the museum, partly because it was nicely air conditioned. We had lunch in the museum cafe: a nice grain bowl and curried chicken salad for me, a tomato and mozzarella salad for Barb. I spent a quiet chunk of time contemplating the world by the zen reflecting pond while Barb explored even more of the museum.

We killed some time after The Clark in several Williamstown shops and bookstores, then had early dinner at The Log, a Williams College hangout. Barb had a pizza slice and salad. I had a double burger with grilled onions and cheese. I shouldn’t have eaten all of it nor all the fries but I did. We chose The Log because I had stopped in the night before looking for a place to watch the U.S. Open tennis matches. One of the waitresses said they would probably have it on in the bar but it was also trivia night and the place would be raucous. I appreciated the honesty. When we came back it was mostly empty but in the hour we were there it filled with students and local families and got quite loud.

We scoped out the venue for the wedding Barb would attend the next day, finding a tent set up behind a house at the address. That must be the place. After that, we drove all of 10 minutes from Williamstown to Vermont for some ice cream at a Stewart’s Shops gas station that one of our waitresses at The Log recommended. 

We waddled back to our room before 7pm and got ready for more tennis and bonus baseball – the O’s were playing the Red Sox at Fenway. Another thunderstorm threatened but it didn’t seem as bad as the night before. Nevertheless, shortly after 7pm our power went out again…but this time not all power. One light stayed on in our room and in some others, leading us to think a fuse had blown. The desk lady was no help but eventually called Zack from the restaurant who was able to check the fuse box and restored service. Crisis averted. We made it through the rest of the night though Carlos Alcaraz did not, losing his Men’s Semifinal. 

Saturday, Sep. 9

The thunderstorm and power outage got Barb worried about things back home so we contacted Mark who let us know that one of our trees got hit by lightning overnight. He (and later Ron, I suspect) got it cleaned up for us, enough that I could get in and out of the driveway. After we got home, I had to have Roberts Tree Service cut down a bunch of branches and haul things away.

Having survived the night and with Mark’s assurances that things were ok at home, we had a nice brunch at the Williams Inn, the hotel we should have stayed at. We met some nice folks at the next table who were in town for the Williams College Convocation. Who knew there was such a thing?

We checked out the Farmers Market across the street then came back to the hotel lobby to read (and write this). After a couple of hours I decided we needed to get out before the Williams Convocation people caught us again. I decided we should drive for a bit on the Mohawk Trail, one of the nation’s first scenic driving routes. 

We quickly reached the points of interest near Williamstown so I decided to drive further east. I thought we would drive for an hour or so but one of the roads I wanted to take was closed. We ended up going much further east than I intended, all the way to Shelburne Falls before turning south and then back west. Back in July 2015, I drove through Shelburne Falls and the Berkshires on a solo trip home from Boston via upstate New York. I thought at the time that the Berkshires were really pretty and we should explore them more fully. Well, this was the chance, and before long we had plenty of it. The section of the drive through the Mohawk Trail State Forest, however, was really lovely.

We ended up back in North Adams to find Jack’s Hot Dog Stand, a fixture for cheap eats in the area. Jack’s turned out to be a tiny old place with seats at a counter. We settled in and ordered a simple dog with ketchup and onions for Barb and a chili cheese dog for me, along with a side of onion rings. They quickly appeared and then quickly disappeared as we devoured them. I ordered one more dog with mustard, onions and relish then paid up – barely $10 for the lot. We were in and out in 20 minutes but we were happy.

We still had a little time to kill so we went to the Williams College Museum of Art for a quick look at their eclectic collection. The most interesting items were chosen by professors of several courses as items related to their courses. It made us glad we weren’t in college anymore.

I got Barb to the wedding at 4pm. It turned out to be a small affair, with maybe 20 people. I think it’s fair to say that Jeremy was surprised when Barb accepted his invitation. The only other person she knew from the office ended up not attending, but Barb made a few new friends and had a good time until the sun went down and the mosquitos came out. She called me a bit after 8pm to get rescued.

In the meantime, I watched some more tennis (the Women’s Final) and baseball in our room. After Coco Gauff won the tennis, I went to get dinner at the 1896 Pub. They advertised a prime rib dinner on Saturday evenings. The place was pretty busy but I easily got a seat at the bar and was informed the prime rib had sold out. I opted for the other special, roast duck. It was not bad and the bartender put on the O’s-Red Sox game for me, so I was reasonably happy.

After I retrieved Barb we watched a little more baseball and packed up to make our escape to Boston the next day. Thankfully, the power stayed on all night.