Chestnut Ridge, sadly, is among those that just doesn’t want your fur-kids around much. With only one dog-friendly hike, there is much of the park we were unable to explore.
Milkweed Trail is a meager half-mile loop trail that is dog friendly. It is mostly a grassy meadow path, and the flowers were indeed gorgeous this time of year (August). It cuts into the woods for just a moment, with one small hill that is just steep enough to fire up some muscles in your quads (but not much). It’s a nice trail, and even though it is the only dog-friendly option, we might come back if it were a bit longer, but unfortunately just isn’t worth the drive for a .5 mi of walking.
We DID take advantage, however, to being a bit of ways down 33 to stop at Outerbelt Brewery, which brews some of our favorite local beers. The taproom is huge, with lots of space for dogs (and human kids!) to enjoy the space while not getting in the way of the drinking adults. Their food menu is small but decent; we really enjoyed our sandwich and sweet potato fries. They have dozens of beers on tap, and their Oktoberfest is among the best.
On to Three Creeks Metro Park. Much improved for doggie visitors over Chestnut Ridge, it still leaves much to be desired for those wanting more of a woodsy adventure. Despite having a large and nice dog park, the only dog-friendly trails are short, paved loops around the ponds and the Blacklick Creek Greenway. For those who live on the southside, it’s a convenient option to get some steps and sniffs in, but I wouldn’t recommend traveling to it.
As a cyclist, however, the park is a convenient entry point to the Blacklick Creek Greenway, my absolute favorite bike path in Columbus. It’s beautiful, shaded, smoothly paved, and not wildly crowded, especially once you get outside the park. There is also access to the 24-mi Alum Creek Greenway.
One of my favorite parts about Columbus is the number, and quality, of their metro parks. It’s so easy to escape the city vibes and fall into nature. Many of these parks have miles of paved bike paths, which is also a huge plus.
The downside is the lack of dog-friendliness. Look, I get that a lot of dog owners are assholes and don’t leash their dogs or pick up their poop, but the good dog-parents suffer the consequences. If a metro park has a dog-friendly trail, it’s typically a grassy path through a meadow, which, hello tick-city. My dog is protected, but do I want to bring a bunch of those blood-thirsty bastards into my car and home by way of them getting lost in her massive pile of floof? Hellll no.
Despite my love for Columbus, I recognize it’s not the best place for woodsy or lakeside adventures, let alone the chance to get your heartrate up on a mountain hill. Well, we can’t just drive to Tennessee and West Virginia every weekend, so we have to make do with what we’ve got. There are hikes out there. And we’re going to find them.
So, it’s time to address which parks have decent sniffari opportunities for the fur-kids we love. Also to be discussed: how far into suburbia do these lesbians dare travel.
I’ll start with our go-to: Scioto Grove Metro Park. On the southside (thus, close to us) it offers more dog-friendly trails than any of the other metro parks we’ve been to yet. We also see park rangers while we’re there, indicating the park is well taken care of (and it does seem to be). Our most common trail is the Overlook Trail; this makes the trail sound a bit more exciting than it is, but there are wooden deck overlooks into the woods and over the river. Most are shaded, and some have tables to sit and enjoy the nature. The Overlook Trail is gravel, and though I wouldn’t say it’s crowded, there are also a good number of humans and their dogs enjoying the trail. The Overlook trail connects with the Arrowhead Trail, which loops back around to the large picnic area and playground. From there, we head back up the overlook trail to our car.
For a longer hike, you can continue on the Overlook Trail past the Lodge, which offers a nice wooded section of the trail, complete with a rope bridge that our dog is very frightened of (warning: it does get slipper when wet). Past the rope bridge is a very long loop trail (Mingo Trail) through meadows and woods, which we particularly enjoy after a good snowfall.
Lastly, the REI River Trail: a delightful trail through the woods, along the river and around the pond. It’s wooded and shady, but can get very muggy and buggy. I would not recommend this route on a humid day, but when the air is dryer, it’s really lovely.
We were fortunate enough to be sitting next to an off-duty Irish flight attendant (also gay), who not only provided sound advice for our trip, but also asked her friends for better wine and whisky than what they serve by default.
We landed in Dublin at 6:00am, flew through border control. We caught our coach (we used Dublin Express) to the Heuston Station, where we ate a full Irish breakfast – our first of many – and boarded our train to Galway.
We booked a room at the Hardiman Hotel next to the train station and just off Eyre Square. It is a beautiful old building and lovely hotel, but fair warning: the rooms were HOT. The ancient windows made our hotel room into a greenhouse, as the uncharacteristically sunny days we enjoyed baked our room to over 80 degrees. The glass was hot to the touch and we could smell our curtains burning against it.
But otherwise, our stay in Galway was lovely. Once we arrived, we strolled the riverwalk while we waited for our rooms to be ready, enjoying the nice weather. After checking in, we grabbed dinner at The King’s Head, where I had my first of several Beef and Guinness Stew (mouth-wateringly good). And my wife, self-proclaimed fish and chips aficionado had the best she’s ever had. It was a somewhat pricey place, but the food was well worth the cost.
We crossed the street to Tig Cóilí, which featured traditional Irish music in the evenings. The pub was crowded, but we lucked out with bar stools near the back and enjoyed the music.
What we learned about trad music sessions: many of the musicians don’t know each other and don’t play together regularly. Typically, any musician is welcome and can bring their instrument to join in. No mics, minimal singing and almost entirely instrumental, we observed musicians of all ages (as young as 18 and as old as perhaps 75) come together. One musician will begin a song, and one by one, the others join in. This was my favorite part of our experience in Ireland, where instead of shitty music blasting or mediocre DJs, there is live, talented and free music in almost every pub on almost every night, particularly in Galway, played by musicians just because they love it, with seemingly the only payment of a couple free drink tokens.
On our first full day, we joined a tour company to explore the Cliffs of Moher. Our tour guide was a bit eccentric, but he got us from point A to B (dangerously dodging bikers participating in a cross-county bike event). We chose the tour with Galway Tour Co. because they offered the most direct route to the cliffs, and the longest amount of time to explore (two hours).
The path alongside the cliff is very narrow, barely wide enough for the two-way traffic, which made for a frustrating initial hike with fellow tourists packed in to get a glimpse of the UNESCO World Heritage site. We hustled as fast as possible down the path, stealing only a couple of glances at the cliffs, until we had hiked about half a mile and the crowds thinned out considerably. If we’d had more time, we would have loved to hike to the end and back, but unfortunately, most of the tour options are built around the philosophy of “here’s a thing to look at,” then “here’s a place to eat” then “here’s a quick stop for a selfie” and not built around allowing time to actually explore and experience.
From there, we boarded the coach to Doolin for lunch. Now that we know what we know, for our next visit, we’ll take public transit to Doolin and begin the Cliffs of Moher hike in town, instead of at the overcrowded Visitor Center. In Doolin, we ate at McGann’s Pub,which had a delightful smoked salmon salad, and the best chips (fries) that we had in our time in Ireland. I finally ordered my first Guinness, which truly is worlds better in Ireland than American, even though we were across the country still from the brewery.
Day Three
On Sunday, we booked a ride on the ferry to Inishmore (Aran Islands). Related to what I said I’d do differently with the Cliffs of Moher, if we had made Doolin a home base for the cliffs, I would have done the same for the Aran Islands, taking the ferry from Doolin to Inishmere, the smallest island.
Instead, we took a coach from Galway to Rossaveal to board the ferry to the largest island. The coach was a bit under an hour, the ferry 40 minutes. We reserved bicycles on the island from Aran Bike Hire, and it was a total clusterfuck with the entire ferry filled with tourists running to grab the bikes and begin their adventure. I had to go through three bikes before I found one with sufficient air in the tires, but it had plenty of other issues (loose brake calipers and jumpy shifters, for starters). But, the price was reasonable and the bikes got us to where we needed to be. (Next time, however, I’ll try the other bike rental company, Inis Mor Bike Hire, which is also right by the pier).
We took the low road first to be able to see the seal colony at low tide. Fortunately, as we are regular bikers, it didn’t take us long to get ahead of the crowds and families, and we enjoyed our ride more once we got out of the thick crowd and ahead of the horse-drawn carriages too (passing them was very scary though!).
The views in Inishmore were absolutely gorgeous. We biked the five miles or so to the Fortress (Dun Aonghasa, 5€). It’s a climb on foot up to the top of cliffs where the ruins sit, harboring gorgeous views. Careful: there’s no fence or railing between the fortress and to the rock and ocean below!
We sat in the sun and enjoyed the views for a while, until the crowds we escaped on bike began arriving. We hiked back down to our bikes and took the high road back towards the port. On the high road, instead of passing the carriages, we were passed by tour buses. Typically at safe speeds and distances, but a few gave no fucks and flew by us, likely to pick up their customers at the fortress.
We stopped at Joe Watty’s Pub. It was a delightful place, and not very overpriced despite the tourist crowds (our menu was for “low season” though, so this may not be the case during the summer). We had another seafood salad that was just as delicious before headed back to town. We had an hour to explore before our ferry departed, and we tried to bike out to the Black Fort, but with steep unpaved roads, we couldn’t make it with our dinky city bikes. We made a mental note to reserve mountain bikes next time. We boarded the ferry early to snag a spot on the roof (outside, where downstairs was indoors).
That night, we hit our favorite pub of our time in Galway: Tigin. The bartender was an absolute delight, and the musicians for the trad music session were wonderful. It wasn’t overly crowded, either, so we had a seat and could enjoy the tunes without drunk Irish students or loud Americans bumping into us.
On Monday morning, we enjoyed our last hotel breakfast (which had been delicious. If you risk the hot rooms to stay at the Hardiman, definitely get the package with breakfast). We walked to the train station and headed back to Dublin!
Lez-Travel Rating for Galway:
While we didn’t see any obvious display of pro-LGBTQ culture, we explored and didn’t need to hide that we were together; no one made any comments or gave us judgmental looks. A few establishments had rainbow flags, but not many. Going outside of the city and into the country did not feel as stark of a difference as it does in many U.S. metro areas (like Columbus), either. We didn’t feel out of place in the less urban areas outside of Galway. We did a few tours, and both times I believe we were the only gay couple in the group, but all the tour guides were friendly and accepting.
What better reason to travel to the South of France than the marriage of two good friends? We booked our travel into Paris, with the high speed train to the region of Provence. The wedding took place in a small town in the countryside of Provence.
The day of the wedding, we had some time to explore before returning to get ready for the festivities. We headed to Les-Baux-de-Provence, a small village in the Alpilles mountains, situated beneath the ruins of a large medieval fortress, Chateau des Baux. We paid to park at the bottom of the hill and began the trek up the mountain.
When we made it to the top, we stopped to catch our breath before roaming along the edge of the cliffs to enjoy the magnificent view. In fact, we enjoyed the view for too long that we had to abandon our plans to pay to enter and explore the chateau, and instead began our trek back down the hill to head out.
Our next task was to drive back down the winding roads to St-Remy-de-Provence. Wednesday is market day in St. Remy, a massive collection of vendors that stretches through a significant area of the town. The bride had requested we purchase some lunch snacks for her – and did the same for ourselves. Fortunately, our friend was with us who spoke conversational French (my wife and I – far from it) and helped us purchase a diverse selection of cheese, meats, and bread.
At a cost of only 40€ (also about $40 at the time), we purchased enough cheese and meat to feed the entire bridal party and ourselves (four of us, about 10-12 people overall). And the quality – far from anything I have enjoyed in the States.
Despite the notion that the French hate Americans (honestly, due to my interaction with American tourists, I don’t blame them), that was not our experience in the southern countryside. The vendors were incredibly friendly to us, and were thrilled that one of our party spoke French. The vendors would correct small errors with a smile, and thank us. They even let us sample every cheese before we made the purchase! And I mean – decent hunks of sample cheese, and one for each of us.
Following the wedding festivities, my wife and I and our two friends journeyed on to Cassis, along the coast in the southern part of the region. My wife and I had rented a car, as Cassis and the town of the wedding were not easily accessible by train (due to the mountains, the train station in Cassis is 2 miles from the town).
[*A note on driving in France, as we made a couple of mistakes: 1) the speed limits aren’t suggestions like in the States. If you go even 2 km/hr over the speed limit, you could get a ticket. And you won’t get pulled over; there are speed violation cameras that will automatically send a bill to you – a whopping 135€ – if you aren’t careful! and 2) it’s illegal to turn right on red. Did we turn right at a red light? Yes. Did we get pulled over immediately? Yes. We were pulled out of the train station/rental car parking lot… fortunately, the police officer only shamed us a bit for not knowing the rules (fair) and did not give us a ticket.]
Wanting to check out La Route de Crêtes, a remarkable 30-minute drive along the seaside cliffs linked Cassis to La Ciotat, my wife and I drove first to La Ciotat, and explored a botanical garden, Parc du Mugel. A reasonably priced pay-lot is nearby for parking, then a 10-minute walk down a steep hill and past a beach will bring you to the park entrance.
The park was beautiful, and entry is free. It had lovely views of bay, and vegetation I did not expect to see in France (bamboo!? Palm trees!?). At the top of the hill, you’ll also get a beautiful view of the Calanques.
Once we got our fill of the park (hardly… I could have wandered there all day), we headed back to the car to start La Route de Crêtes. It definitely lived up to expectations. Though a somewhat scary drive at times (a VERY narrow, winding road), the views were breathtaking, and there were plenty of places to pull over and take in the views from outside the car. This one was our favorite lookout spot.
Once we arrived in Cassis, we found our hotel with some effort. An amazing thing about these towns in France is that they close off smaller streets and alleys during market days or dinner time, so that restaurants can use those areas for outdoor seating. But – the closed roads did make it tricky to get to our hotel! We ended up parking up the hill and dragging out luggage to our hotel, just off the city center. We stayed at a new Best Western; the rooms were very small and simple, but the price was reasonable and location was perfect.
We met our friends at a Rick Steves’ recommendation: Divino, a small and reasonably priced wine bar. The bartender was very friendly, and handed us some free charcuterie and olives to enjoy with our wine. He had three house selections (one white, rose, and red, all local) already selected and open, 7€ each, so you could select something without too much pressure and need to struggle through a French menu.
The next morning, we once again enjoyed market day (Fridays in Cassis). Though not as expansive as St Remy, the market still had much to offer, and we purchased cheese and bread to enjoy on our Calanque hike.
The Calanques: calanques are narrow valleys with sea inlets, surrounded by cliffs. Near Cassis, there are three notable Calanques: Port-Miou, Port-Pin, and d’En-Vau.
Port-Miou is a thirty minute walk from the Cassis city center, and it is a climb. You walk up from the port and through the wealthier part of town, so don’t forget to turn around and enjoy the view as you go (you may need to catch your breath anyway!). At the edge of town, you hike down a bit to reach Port-Miou.
View from in between Port-Miou and Port-Pin
A large sign for hikers show the other paths to the next two calanques. One route is steep and rocky, the other travels around – longer, but more gradual and more accessible. Even in the off-season (mid-October), the trail was quite crowded, so if you go in summer, start early!
We made it to Calanque Port-Pin in another twenty minutes from Port-Miou. The views were spectacular, and the small peddle beach beautiful. We got a later start than intended, and knowing it was another hour to Calanque d’En-Vau (each way), we bailed on seeing what is said to be the most beautiful of the three (next time!), and headed back. Exhausted from the hike and heat, we were thrilled to discover an offer from our hotel: since it was new, they offered each guest a free 1-hr private use of their spa. Fully recovered, we met our friends at a wine bar, La Maison de Jo et Gaby. We had intended to follow another Rick Steves recommendation, La Chai Cassidain, but sadly it no longer existed and had been replaced, in the same location. Nevertheless, it was delightful; we grabbed a small table in the alley and the bartender handed us a small menu with that day’s options for wine by the glass. The bartender understood English but spoke only French, taking time to help us with the pronunciations. He refused to pour my wife’s glass until she was able to pronounce the name of the wine correctly!
For our final destination, we headed to Nîmes, stopping first at Pont du Gard, a massive, 30-mile aqueduct designed by the Romans to provide fresh drinking water to Nîmes. In fact, it provided nine million gallons per day.
We had to return the rental car that afternoon and only had an hour available to explore Pont du Gard, but if we could do it again we’d allow 3-4. There are tours available and plenty of walking trails to get better views of the aqueduct. You can also rent kayaks to view the Roman sight from the Gardon River.
In Nîmes, we had a casual first night, picking up some pizza and heading to our airbnb to watch the Tennessee v. Alabama football game (Go Vols!). The next morning, we headed out to enjoy a full day of touring the city. Rick Steves mapped out a full day’s tour for Nîmes, complete with recommendations on where to eat.
The day started with the Roman Arena. We purchased the culture pass there, which provided us entry into all the roman monuments and the museum. The arena, much like the Colosseum in Rome, was pretty incredible to see firsthand. The climb to the top provided amazing views of the entire city as well. The audio-guide, though showcasing some over-enthusiastic voice-acting, was still quite informative.
From there, we walked across the street to the Roman World Museum. The museum was interesting, displaying thousands of Roman artifacts in the three-level, bright building. It’s worth a see if you have the time, but if you’re short on time, I’d recommend focusing on the Roman monuments.
The restaurant Rick Steves recommended was no more, so we hit up another place in the recommended square: Place du Marché. A note on eating in France – it takes a WHILE. Though the food is always incredible, meals are long, social events, even when you’re trying to simply grab a quick snack and coffee and then head out to sightsee (as we were hoping to do in Nîmes!). And if you’re hungry between 3-7pm, you’ll have a hard time finding food. Most restaurants serving dinner do not even open until 7:00 or 7:30pm.
From there, we continued the Rick Steves walking tour, heading to Maison Carrée. Dated back to AD4, the Maison Carrée is a stunning temple that’s stood the test of time, being consistently utilized for a variety of purposes since the Roman Empire. From there, we headed to the Fountain Garden, a lovely park (free entry) and the Temple of Diana, which is within. Finally, we walked over the Castellum, a small site on a residential street which is the end of the 30-mile aqueduct from Pont du Gard. And how about this: based on the water available, the lower holes serviced the wells of the neighborhoods. The higher holes – so, only when water was sufficiently available – serviced the homes of the wealthy. How’s that for equity!?
After our walking tour, we grabbed a pint (we had been drinking so much wine, as is customary, that we had really missed our beer!). We sat at a table outside, casually taking in our view: the massive, 2,000 year old arena. How the locals could get used to that is beyond me!
After our casual pint, we went around the corner to a bar with dozens of beer on tap, including many unique Belgians (which we looooove). At this bar, you could pour however much you want, so if you don’t want to be dragging yourself home after too much Begian tripel. And small pours means you get to try more!
To wrap up the day, we headed back to our airbnb to pack up and rest, needing to catch the 5am train back to the Paris airport in the morning.
Lez-Travel Rating for Cassis:
I felt a little out of place in Cassis, but it wasn’t because of my queerness. It was a huge tourist spot, and though winding down for the season, was still thriving with tourism. Perhaps it was more my socioeconomic status than my queerness, though the costs weren’t extreme, the town felt… uppity? I would go back for the nature and beauty that surrounds Cassis more than the town itself.
Lez-Travel Rating for Nîmes:
While we didn’t experience or see much LGBTQ culture (though in fairness, we didn’t seek it out), we wandered the city hand-in-hand without fear of harassment or hostile looks. Some establishments had the Pride flag hanging, including where we got our post-walk beers by the Arena.
Resources:
For our travel plans, we used primarily Rick Steves Provence & the French Riviera. We bought a used, older edition for cheap, (which I’m sure is why some of his recommendations had since ceased to exist). My favorite part about the Rick Steves book for this trip was him outlining a day-long walking tour in Nîmes. It saved us from planning out and estimating how much time each location would take, and we just followed his guidance and it was perfect!
For our third anniversary, we wanted to get out of the city: enjoy nature and explore an area with minimal covid-risk, which brought us to the beautiful outdoors of Vermont. We found a lovely airbnb in the town of Ryegate, near the border of New Hampshire.
As a New Englander at the time, all the fuss for nature and mountains is focused on New Hampshire. Let me be clear: Vermont is far superior to New Hampshire. As John Oliver once said, “New Hampshire is just Florida with foliage.”
Vermont is just as beautiful, and though it boasts lower peaks than New Hampshire’s white mountains, you get to avoid the traffic, tourist crowds, and focus on enjoying nature.
In mid-October, it was peak autumn colors. Near Ryegate was a cluster of state parks that we explored, all around the Groton State Forest: Kettle Pond, Big Deer, New Discovery, Ricker Pond, and more. An old rail-trail (Cross Vermont Rail Trail) links many of those state parks. The packed-dirt path leads through the woods with great views of the foliage and the water. We had our dog with us on the trip, so we didn’t bike for long, but I would definitely return and do more of this 30-mile bike path.
We hit up many hiking trails nearby, but our two favorites were Owlshead Mountain Trail (park at New Discovery State Park, pay to enter) and Devil’s Hill.
Owlshead Mountain Trail was a moderate out-and-back trail, up to the 1800ft peak with incredible views. Devil’s Hill, however, was our favorite; lightly trafficked, and free parking at the trailhead. Devil’s Hill is a partial loop, so the dog got fresh sniffs and our legs got a bit of a break with the more roundabout, less steep descent.
And though I harp on Vermont being better than New Hampshire, we did swing through the White Mountains on the drive back to Rhode Island – stopping for a couple of hikes at Franconia Notch State Park. And I stand by my judgment: it was packed. We did the Artist’s Bluff Trail, and though beautiful, it was crowded, and at certain points, we had to wait a while for others to pass before we could continue the climb. We also did Bald Mountain, a short out and back hike that was slightly less crowded and had incredible views as well. But overall, my main memory is how the parking lots were mostly full, the portable toilets were overflowing, and all this on a random Wednesday in October… what is it like on a Saturday?! Listen. Just go to Vermont. If I could do it all again… I’d have spent our last day in Vermont, too. Though we had two full days of hiking in Vermont before heading out, it wasn’t enough!
It’s hard to comment on a Lez-Travel rating on this trip. Because we traveled from our airbnb and only did hikes, even cooking and eating at our Airbnb, we didn’t really explore the surrounding towns or go out much. It was a rural part of Vermont, and the interactions we had with other hikers were friendly, but minimal.
Finally – after several years together in New England- we made it up to Acadia National Park. We camped at Mount Desert Island Campground, a private and slightly pricey (but well worth it) campground in Acadia. We had a hike-in campsite – which proved challenging to carry our belongings up the hill through the woods, with a dog, but the privacy and the views were well worth the effort.
Initially, we had made this reservation for the summer, then it was cancelled due to covid, then rebooked – and finally, rescheduled again, as by that point we had adopted our dog, but as dogs are only allowed at this campground during off-peak months. So – September of 2021 – we made it.
A short hike through the woods from our campsite brought us to the “Gathering Place.” Normally when camping, we like our slow mornings and make our own coffee and breakfast, but the Gathering Place had delicious, fresh pastries – something different each morning – and coffee. The prices were reasonable, and like a hotel, they’d add the cost of everything to your “tab,” by campsite number, to pay alongside your reservation total upon checkout. Now that’s some fancy camping.
In the summer, shuttles service both Bar Harbor and many of the popular trails throughout the national park, but during our visit in the off-season (post-summer but pre-fall foliage), we drove where we wished and had no issues with parking. Note: you do need to purchase a pass, which allows you to park wherever in the park. You can do this online in advance, or at the ranger stations in the park.
Our hiking adventures were fun and flexible in Acadia. With the small peaks, most hikes were quick, and we could bounce around and do a couple each day, stopping for excellent seafood around the many restaurants in Bar Harbor especially, but also Northeast and Southwest Harbors. In fact, we’d recommend the latter two areas – the food was just as good, prices were cheaper, and we never had to wait more than a couple minutes for a table. Bar Harbor is definitely worth spending at least one evening, though! The one night we attempted to dine in Bar Harbor had its struggles (definitely plan ahead and make reservations!). We ended up on the patio of a Irish pub that had good beer options and decent food.
For day one, after our hike, we hit up a bar for lunch and to watch Ohio State and Tennessee football games. Unfortunately, both of our teams lost in their final drives, but we made great friends and had a lovely time with tourists and local alike.
You can’t go wrong on any hike in Acadia. We chose Kebo Mountain, Gorham Mountain, Jordan Pond Trail, Flying Mountain, and others I failed to note. All were not too challenging and rewarded us with beautiful views. Jordan Pond is an easy, but quite long, hike around the lake, and we enjoyed that when our knees were tired! Jordan Cafe we missed out on – they shortened hours post-summer and only are open for lunch.
Beehive is a favorite, but not dog-friendly (lots of climbing, ladders, cliffs, etc!)
On our second day, we headed to the west side to Nor’Easter Pound and Market (Northeast Harbor). They have a huge outdoor patio that is dog friendly, and the food was great!
Have you ever seen a happier dog?
On the third day, after Flying Mountain Trail, as we were already on the west side of Mount Desert Island (Southwest Harbor), we headed to a restaurant called the Upper Deck. It was not dog-friendly, but our dog was exhausted from the hike, and the weather was cool, so she was happier to nap in the car and we were able to keep an eye on her from this casual, bright marina restaurant.
Resources:
To plan our hikes, we visited the Park Visitor Center. The line was quite long (so I hesitate to think what’d it be like in peak season), but it moved fairly quickly. There, we were able to tell the ranger what we were looking for and get some advice on the best moderate-difficulty and dog-friendly hikes. The ranger gave us a map and circled all the hikes we had discussed, which was very helpful!
Lez-Travel Rating:
Three rainbows for Bar Harbor and Acadia. Hopefully it’s fair to speak of the stereotype of my own people: a lot of gay women love dogs, and love hiking. We felt like we were in good company on the hikes and around town. No funny looks, and we saw plenty of other queer folk, among locals and tourists alike.
For my wife’s birthday, we headed north to what must be the most lesbian-friendly city in the world: Burlington, Vermont. A magical place filled with dogs, hikes, lakes, beer, and – of course – gay women – it was the perfect birthday adventure.
We booked a spot at the city campground – North Beach – which was tucked away just north of downtown along an old rail trail. Dog friendly year-round, the prices were reasonable and the campsites – despite being so close to the city – were decent. You won’t find yourself tucked away in the woods out of view from all of your camping neighbors, but you still have some shade and privacy and a decent amount of space for your car, tent and gear.
The first night, we walked to the downtown area to a nice restaurant with a dog-friendly patio, water bowls for the dogs already set out all over. We ordered cocktails, which were delicious, and definitely felt safe and in good company as dog-moms and as lesbians. We watched the sunset over the lake and enjoyed some music traveling over to us from a venue across the parking lot.
Downtown and the campground were linked by a paved walking trail, which sits along several urban parks on one side and gorgeous Lake Champlain on the others, so every morning we’d begin our day with a nice long walk, plenty of sniffs for the dog. For breakfast we headed to the Skinny Pancake, specializing in, of course, crepes. The food was great, and they had live music! Tonks was not keen on the trumpet.
Rail-trail along Lake Champlain
For my wife’s birthday dinner, we hiked over to a seasonal waterfront restaurant, Spot on the Dock. The food and drinks were okay, but the view, atmosphere and live music were definitely worth it. Not trying to hide its success as a tourist spot, it still had much to offer. Tonks, again, was scared of the trumpet.
The highlight of the trip was definitely getting to sample all of our favorite Vermont beers from the source. Switchback Ale is one of my go-to favorites, and was just as enjoyable from the brewery. The other beers, however, we weren’t as fond of, but we had fun picked out flights and sampling their many brews. At Switchback, dogs are allowed inside and outside. As we were camping and had Tonks with us, we hadn’t been indoors during our entire visit, so we took that opportunity to sit by the windows inside and enjoy some AC!
Exhausted after our big day, Tonks naps at Switchback Brewery
We also visited Zero Gravity, and I love their beer – in New England I snag a mix-pack every time I see one at the liquor store. The brewery is a great spot, with tons of dog-friendly outdoor space, and, they’re open all day! Like, in the morning, too! Kegs and eggs, anyone?
Foam Brewers was another great brewery we tried out. Also with a dog-friendly patio. A smaller brewery than the other two, it sits along a park and by Lake Champlain, easily walkable from our campsite (about 1 mile).
On our way out, we hit up Myers Bagel Bakery which was… the best damn bagel I have ever had in my life. And yes, I’ve been to New York. After we feasted, we waved farewell to beer-loving, bike-loving, outdoorsy, lesbian metropolis of Burlington. It’s the greatest gem of all of New England.
Lez-Travel Rating:
It may not surprise you to see three rainbows here. Burlington is one of the most gay-friendly places I have ever visited. It probably deserves ten rainbows.
As our travel had, of course, been cancelled for spring and early summer, I had a few days off that were scheduled to expire on July 1. We love camping, and certainly that had been our hope, but though originally scheduled to reopen at the start of phase 2, campsites didn’t end up reopening until July 1. We instead looked at a variety of cabins in New Hampshire near the White Mountains, and found the perfect fit. A little efficiency one-room cabin near Lake Winnipesaukee, complete with a fire pit, grill, and walkable to the lake.
The drive up was rough – not because of usual traffic now gone due to covid – but first because of a hailstorm (not common in New England!) and then because of the wild amount of Trump signs. Wondering what these two lesbians got ourselves into, we glanced nervously at each other and a took a deep breath of mountain air with a bit of the stench of Trump.
Day 1
We pull into our cabin, immediately unload the car and bikes, take a seat on the lawn chairs outside the cabin and crack open a beer. We hadn’t been seated but for a few minutes when the host’s neighbor came home, said hello, and then opened the back of his trunk. Boxes of fireworks tumbled out of his car. He threw the boxes back inside, kept out a couple, and slammed the door shut. Grabbing one of the boxes, he walked over to us, and started passing along handfuls of firecrackers. Wide-eyed and unsure of what to do next, we put them in a pile (we never used them).
It started to rain, and we walked a bit down the street to a restaurant with a covered outdoor patio (Dockside in Alton Bay). No sooner had we sat down did the skies open; seated comfortably with draft beer in hand (only the second since March), we enjoyed the sound of the rain on the lake and watched the lightning in the distance.
We ordered lobster rolls and a couple draft beers each; they had a phenomenal selection of local crafts brews than we enjoyed while watching the rain. We overstayed our welcome a bit and headed home in the rain.
Day 2
Monday we awoke to only some light rain! Thrilled at our good fortune, we hit the road to a nearby rail trail in Wolfeboro, NH. 12 miles each way, it’s a packed dirt trail that was perfect for our cyclocross bikes with wider treaded tires (wouldn’t have been as fun on a full road bike).
We rode nearly the full distance, turning around as we started to get hungry.
We grabbed lunch in the continuing drizzle on the lake on Wolfeboro at Garwoods, a nicely spaced out patio on the lake. One woman tied a sweater around her face because of the restaurant’s ‘masks required sign.’ At first, we were discouraged by the seemingly-inflated menu prices, but put that aside for the sake of our amazing view of the lake. But we didn’t pay for the view alone: I had the MOST DELICIOUS salmon sandwich I have ever had in my life. Come to find out later, they also have a great bloody Mary. “Top 5 of my life,” the man we met from DC-area said, but unfortunately, we didn’t make it back to try it ourselves.
After lunch we drove to Mount Major, but by then the downpour was so intense we decided that climbing a mountain wasn’t in the cards. Instead, we took a stroll on a snowmobile trail, which was flat and peaceful, through the woods.
On the drive back “to town,” we blasted the floorboard heat to try and dry our only pair of sneakers.
Day 3: Mount Major
Still.Raining. But finally time to embrace Mount Major, rain or shine. Fortunately, most of the way up we are able to avoid the rain. It’s a short hike by miles, but nearly straight up at the end. My favorite hikes are those with crawling on rock faces and turning around to see breathtaking views! As I straighten out to stand up at what I think is near the top (spoiler: it wasn’t!), I sigh with relief that the rocks aren’t wet and slippery (yet) as I take in the view of the lake.
We press onward to the very top, where we have a full 360 view of the mountains, the lake and all around. Three ways up meet at this point and all are well marked to find the right path back down. We had about 60 seconds of views before the cloud cover came in at incredible speed and, after another 60 seconds, the first crash of thunder.
Glad to have brought our raincoats (which were cumbersome on the way up), we pull them on and rush back down the mountain, moving quickly to get under tree cover before the first lightning. We decide to take the longer, less steep way down, to enjoy the woods and avoid the slick rocks now that the rain had begun.
Days 4 and 5 we are back “at work,” working remotely from the cabin while enjoying the view from the lake. Of course, it’s still raining, but in the evening we’re able to put our skills to the test and manage to light a fire with the wet wood, and get it hot enough to stay lit once the drizzle starts again. The fire pit was a huge perk of our stay in NH, especially since we had not been able to go camping yet due to covid, and, though we love rain, being unable to have a fire the first few nights bummed us out! We made up for it with three nights of huge fires.
On our last day, we pack up the car and, of course, it’s the first rainless day we’ve had yet, so we head north around the lake for another hike, West Rattlesnake Mountain. A shorter hike with spectacular views, it was a perfect hike to end on. As we passed Mount Major, cars were parked a mile up and down the road, beyond the huge parking lot. Rattlesnake Mountain had been busy, but not ridiculous. (We got a lot of stares for wearing masks…!)
It was a lovely vacation, besides the Trump signs, the one bad meal, and the inability for New Hampshire people to wear masks.
Covid-19 is real. It is scary. Wear your damn mask.
Rattlesnake Mountain
Lez-Travel Rating:
Despite the many Trump signs, we felt safe around Alton Bay. A huge tourist area, I expect the locals are used to people from all sexual preferences and backgrounds, and though we didn’t seem to be in a crowd of queers, no one gave us any reason to feel unsafe, or even uncomfortable. Even our Airbnb host, a Trump fan, knew we were married and could not have been kinder to us (not to imply that all Trump fans hate the gays).
Earlier this evening, I joined thousands of others for a peaceful march and protest through Franklin Park. My wife and I walked down from our apartment through the park to meet the marchers that had just begun down Circuit St. As we reached the destination for the rally, we came together in the fields by Shattuck Hospital. Dozens of police stood in the background on the steps of Shattuck watching, already in riot gear. My wife and I walked around the field to find a spot to hear better, as the two helicopters circled loudly above us. Several speakers shared their stories, their prayers, chants, spoken word, their anger, fear and hopes. They spoke of issues nationwide, and then brought the focus to Boston. Those with the organizations collaborating for this event (Black Lives Matter Boston and Violence in Boston) carried large photographs of the black men killed by police, and black men killed by police in Boston specifically. We shared a long moment of silence for them all, and moved on our way. The organizers encouraged all to exit the park before dark and to not engage in violence.
The protesters joined back to exit onto Circuit St. We all marched back together, some stepping off in either direction to head home, picked up our signs and began chanting again, moving as one, back to where the group had started. Suddenly, we heard sirens and and shouting and the crowd parted as quickly as the packed street with parallel parked cars on either side would allow. Within inches of the last person to jump out of the street, a dozen or more police on motorcycles flew down the street, into and through the crowd of entirely peaceful protestors just trying to head home. There had been no violence, no vandalism, no fires, no fights, just people coming together from three Boston neighborhoods for a common cause. WHY!? It was not an emergency, or they would have gone the other way around the park. Was it a power play? The protestors had peacefully met, sat, marched, shared, prayed, and departed… and a bunch of white men on motorcycles with guns on their hips thought it’d be appropriate to fly through a packed, crowded street at a peaceful and sanctioned event full of people including children… to share that they are still in charge? To show that, though we can protest their violence, they can still cut through us like a knife with the speed of a motor vehicle?
We call people who drive vans through crowded sidewalks terrorists… so what do you call a group of motorcyclists roaring through a crowded street of peaceful sanctioned protestors?
-my response to the Franklin Park (Boston) Black Lives Matter Protest Tuesday, June 2, 2020
Sometimes while traveling, one can experience a simple delight that can transform the experience.
While we had a delightful and problem-free time in Vienna as traveling wives, we took a longer bike ride to the outskirts of the city. This, in my experience, means ‘tone down the gay and be chill.’ 1
We are about to cut over from the bike lane to the off-road path along the river, when we noticed a cafe called Prindl Cafe. We immediately gravitate towards it, as “Prindle Pond” was the name of the venue of our wedding the previous week. (Prindle Pond is a camp in central Massachusetts).
Of course, we go inside. My mind is full of toning down the gay and chilling, but my wife, bubbling and outgoing and desiring to befriend everyone, goes right up to the bartender and tries to explain how we got married at a camp with the same name as his cafe.
He grows quiet and has a stern expression; he does not smile at the coincidence of the name and does not congratulate us. I grab the elbow of my wife’s sleeve and prepare to take a step backwards.
As fate would have it, the man has no issue with gay marriage, but does not speak English. We try to explain in horribly broken German (though – I am still uneasy), but fortunately his English-speaking daughter comes to our rescue and translates.
Immediately, his face brightens. He claps his hands together. He runs to the pastry display and grabs us two croissants, two chocolate croissants, and a delicious apple something (which provided us a wonderful pre-airport snack the next day). He does not stop beaming the entire time we drink our beers. We stayed too long that we did not make it to the island before dark, but it was all so worth it. We had not felt uncomfortable in Vienna, but this was the peak of comfort, acceptance, and even joy from someone met on our travels.
Though this was a delightful interaction and a lovely cafe/pub, I am sad to share that I was nervous about someone’s reaction toward my relationship and my marriage. This is something I have dealt with the most in my own cities and American travel (that is, more than in Europe), but how disappointing that I almost turned away from sharing my story with a kind and gentle-hearted man, who did not flinch, double-take or have any reaction other than absolute delight at our story, just because I did not know how he might react.
_________________________
I lived in Columbus, OH for three years. It was a very open city, I was in a very accepting and progressive graduate program. I came out while living in Columbus. But half a step outside the I-270 loop, the gay-hating Christians appeared in full shaming force. (Note: the emphasis is on the geographical area, and I will point out that the Christian communities inside the city were, in my experience, kind and open and loving towards the Columbus LGBT community... in fact, issues inside the city stemmed primarily from yo-pro-bros asking to see us make out… but that’s another novel).
Lez Travel 