We had decided to drive cross-country rather than flying, so on September 17, in spite of several pairs of raised eyebrows (that was only six days after the Sept. 11 World Trade Center disaster) we set out to meet our boarding date of Sept. 27, in Warren, R.I.

Our route to the east took us wandering around the country, covering 16 states, almost as many motels, and innumerable restaurants. We traveled as far south as Kentucky before turning northeast to New England.

A few of the highlights of this section were:

> Arches National Park near Moab, Utah

This is another of the drive-thru scenic areas so prevalent in Utah. The trip is about 15 miles, and includes desert-type country, green foliage at a river, and the arches themselves.

It would take a geologist with much more understanding than I to describe how the arches were formed, but essentially, after centuries of development, multiple formations looking like gigantic Great Walls of China stand with depressions between them. Years of erosion have bored holes through the cliffs, leaving the arches. Two of the largest and most impressive are called "The Windows". They are so huge that a person standing in one of them is almost lost to sight.

> The Hole-in-the-Rock House, also near Moab

Here, in a huge sandstone cliff, a gentleman named Albert Christensen decided to "build" his home. Mr. Christensen had been a hard-rock miner for much of his life, so working the much softer sandstone was not difficult for him. In the next 12 years he drilled and excavated over 50,000 cubic feet of the cliff, creating a 5000 square foot 14 room house. Rather than looking like a cave, as one would expect, it is amazingly comfortable. When he needed a chimney for his fireplace, he simply tunneled 70 feet straight up, coming out at the top of the cliff. One of the intriguing things about the house is that, being essentially underground, it requires neither heat nor air-conditioning. The temperature remains at a comfortable 70 degrees year round.

> Utah Highway 128

We drove up a red-rock canyon along the Colorado River in eastern Utah.It was a twisty, up-and-down road, but the contrast of blue skies, green foliage, brown river and red rock walls made it one of the most beautiful sights of the trip.

> Colorado 24

In Colorado, Route 24 runs along the crest of the Rockies, thru Leadville and other small towns.

When we drove this highway in mid-September, they had recently had their first snowfall on the peaks above Leadville and the aspens had just started to turn to their fall gold. Mighty pretty. I suppose negotiating it would have been difficult a month later.

> The Eisenhower Memorial

In Abilene, Kansas, is the Eisenhower Memorial and Eisenhower family home. Although General/President Dwight D. Eisenhower was born in Texas, he spent most of his boyhood years in Abilene, one of seven brothers and he always referred to Abilene as his home town. The Memorial, including a library and museum, is built on a grand but dignified scale. It was financed completely privately, requiring no public funds, and is indeed the last Presidential Library to make that statement.

The Eisenhower home looks just like any small country house, with some additions tacked on as the family grew. The boys' bedroom was the single-room attic.

> The Gateway Arch in St. Louis

This had to be the highlight of the trip east. It is the tallest of our National Monuments, and rises from a bluff above the Mississippi. Not only is that huge shimmering stainless steel arch a glorious sight, but below it, in the ground is an excellent museum, commemorating and detailing the Lewis and Clark expedition. There are small cars inside, mounted on gimbals, that will take you up to a viewing room at the top. Try to figure out how an elevator goes more and more sideways as it nears the top of the arch!

> The Amish Settlements

We didn't spend a great deal of time at the Amish settlements, but we did get to see some of the typical horse-drawn buggies, a couple of gift shops, and in Berlin, Ohio, had an absolutely tremendous lunch. It was identified as a roast pork sandwich, but to get the meat they must have used at least a pair of pigs.

After driving through Pennsylvania, New York and Connecticut we arrived at our friends' in Hope Valley, Rhode Island, spent the night and left for Warren, RI (on the other side of Narragansett Bay) and our ship, the Niagara Prince.

At 2:00 PM we set sail down the Warren River and Narragansett Bay. On the way we passed what been a seven-acre island boasting a luxurious home with lawns and gardens. The 1954 hurricane stripped most of the island away and left the house perched precariously on a rock.

Word is that the owner never came back to see his house.

At dusk we rounded Point Judith Point and sailed into Long Island Sound. (The local story about Point Judith has a fisherman out on the water with his daughter. They were beset with dense fog, and Dad asked daughter to listen for the sound of surf. Eventually she cried "I hear surf!" "Whereaway?" he asked. "Over there!" "Where?" "That way!" "Point, Judith, point!") Hey, I'm not responsible for that old dog!

After a decent night's sleep, interrupted only briefly by the rolling of the ship, we awoke early to find that we were just approaching Manhattan Island, on the east side, between the Bronx and Queens. Passed the U N building, rounded the south end of Manhattan at Battery Park and started up the Hudson on the west side.

Everyone on the ship fell silent as we passed the gaping opening and clouds of smoke where the World Trade Center had been. None of us seemed to be clear about our emotions at that point. A mixture of shock, sorrow and anger would probably be the most common reaction.

The U.S.Navy had a destroyer prominently stationed off the island as a warning and deterrent for anyone who might venture too close.

A number of tugs and barges were busily travelling between Manhattan and the New Jersey shore, carrying supplies to and debris from the attack site.

Farther north the Army had docked a huge hospital ship. It was serving as dormitory, laundry and cafeteria for the workers at the WTC. It also served as a supplier of fresh water and power to lower Manhattan.

As we passed Manhattan and metropolitan New York, it was surprising how soon we were out of the big city and into a much more rural environment. We sailed past the Palisades on the New Jersey shore, knowing full well that they are crowded with residences and apartments, but we could see very little sign of them. What appeared to be dense untouched forests passed on both sides of the ship, except right at the shoreline, where there were dozens of super-luxurious homes.

During the afternoon we passed the U S Military Academy at West Point, but because of the recent tightening of security, we had to forego a scheduled visit and be content with viewing the fabled battlements of the cadets' quarters from the ship.

After a full day of sailing up the Hudson, we came abreast of Albany, then stopped for the night at Troy, NY, in a secluded little bay. No rolling that night; you wouldn't have known you were on the water.

Just for a little background, the canal was built to enable shipping goods to and from the Midwest via the Great Lakes. Prior to that time, New York was an inconsequential port, running a poor third behind Boston and Philadelphia. Since shipping by barge was less expensive than by rail, the Canal soon became crowded with barges full of coal, iron ore, wheat and other agricultural products heading east and manufactured goods on their way west. With the advent of this canal-borne commerce, New York soon became the pre-eminent port that it is now.

Long segments of the canal take advantage of the Mohawk, Seneca, Oswego and Tonowanda Rivers, while other sections are completely artificial ditches. At any rate, in order to control these rivers, and to lift and lower the barges to the various levels, a series of 35 locks was built, along with 8 more on the Oswego Canal segment. The locks raised the barges (and our ship) to an elevation of 420 feet above sea level in increments varying from six to 40.5 feet. The first seven locks got us through Troy and Waterford, then out into the country beyond. To those of us who were not familiar with upstate New York, seeing the farms and small towns was a real revelation.

One of the unreal aspects of this trip was that as we travelled at a maximum of ten knots on a nineteenth century canal system, along the route, cars and trucks were whizzing by at 70 to 80 MPH on Interstate 80, which, along with the railroads, was built along the Mohawk River.

Entering a lock, particularly on an "up" lift, can be almost symbolic of resurrection. The ship slides gently between slimy dripping rough concrete walls, the normally bright sunlight cut completely off, the lock gates behind you swing slowly shut, adding to the mausoleum effect. As the water swirls in (from the bottom of the lock, not the gates) the ship slowly rises back into the sunlight. Of course on a descent, the process is reversed.

There is no commercial traffic left on the Canal, unless one considers tourist trips such as ours to be commerce. There are still frequent pleasure craft on the water. Most of the owners of those we encountered happily shouted "Heading for Florida!" as they passed.

Early morning fishermen were also out, waiting hopefully for what kind of fish I don't know.

Our ship, like all of the ACCL ships, was designed specifically for these Canal trips. It had a draft of 6 1/2 feet, because the Canal has a depth of 7 feet. Also, because of the extremely low railroad bridges over the Canal, the pilot house was designed to be lowered to the level of the deck.

Those low bridges, by the way, were no accident. The railroads built them like that deliberately so that the height of the cargo, and consequently the tonnage on the barges would be restricted. They felt that the canal was destroying their monopoly; and so it was!

We spent several days on the Erie Canal, tying up at night at various docks, one at the small town of Little Falls. Pretty little place, but not much going on. I did manage to get under a flock of gulls. They saluted me appropriately.

After crossing Lake Oneida (which looked for all the world like a wider canal) we entered the Oswego Canal. Looked like the Erie part, but here the locks were all descending, and functioned to keep the Oswego River from rushing out into Lake Ontario. The passengers (well, I anyway) thought it might have been fun to turn the river loose and ride the whitewater out into the lake.

At the city of Oswego we disembarked briefly to see the salmon fishermen. No, we didn't see many salmon, but there were dozens of hopeful anglers. Because of previous canal and dam construction there were concrete structures underwater. If one knew where they were, it was perfectly safe, and relatively shallow. But one step too far, and over the edge!

That night we slept under way, running northeast up Lake Ontario, to the Thousand Island area, and the beginning of the St.Lawrence Seaway.