On the Road, and Clueless
How I Made a Wrong Turn and Ended Up in the Wanakena Parade
I was trapped. I couldn’t park or turn and backing up would be dangerous. There was a red, white and blue bedecked tractor pulling a hay bale trailer filled with farmers wearing overalls and cowboy hats bearing down on me.
The people of the tiny hamlet of Wanakena, NY were beginning to stare. My options were all bad. I decided that the only way out was to take part in the hamlet Fourth of July parade. This is my story.
Wanakena is what they call a pioneer village, a small, out-of-the-way hamlet that is part of the larger town of Fine. And by pioneer, what they mean is industrial pioneer. Around the turn of the last century, Wanakena was founded by two cousins who bought 16,000 acres and started a lumber company. Wanakena was a company town.
Today, the hamlet of a few hundred is kept somewhat relevant by the presence of the Environmental School of Forestry, a SUNY System forest ranger school, the oldest such school in the country.
I mention this because that’s why I was here. Cathedral Rock Fire Tower sits on the forestry school property, and to the school’s very great credit, they’ve built public trails to the tower and allow hikers to visit.
After my hike - which was wonderful - as I pulled out of the road the school was on and came to an intersection, I noticed something odd. To my left, toward Wanakena, cars were lined along the road. I could have made a right at that moment and headed back to the state highway and my hotel. But I’m too curious. I had some time on my hands. I was in a new place.
Something was obviously happening! Wouldn’t you want to see what that was?
I turned left, and sealed my fate.
The road became narrow and I noticed that some people had lined the road. Cars were parked along both sides. By the time I reached the little town’s center square and realized what was happening, it was too late. I looked at the clock. Five after noon. On the fourth of July. Oh no.
The parade was coming right at me, a line of tractors and riding lawnmowers and those little cars that the Shriners drive! I looked for parking, because I would have stayed if I could. (Small town parades are a thing to behold!) But I couldn’t. There were no other streets to turn onto. There were people everywhere. Some of them even noticed me sitting there. The tractor was nearly on me, when a woman standing to my left yelled, “Couple cars behind you, there’s a driveway, maybe you have room to turn around?”
I had no choice. I jammed my car into reverse and slowly rolled backward as the festive music in front of me grew and the people in the cowboy hats wondered what I was doing. That tractor driver leading the parade though, that guy never even slowed down.
I swung the car to my left and rolled it about three feet up on someone’s grass. That was enough to get out of the way, but not enough to be permanent. I waited, looking for my opening as old belching Model Ts and a group of kids riding, I think, hobby horses galloped by. Suddenly, a gap appeared between a star spangled golf cart and a group of girls walking with a banner for the forestry school.
I whipped in behind the golf cart, but I wasn’t free yet. I mean, I was now part of the parade. So, I rolled down my window and started waving. Thankfully, people waved back, perhaps because they wanted the lunatic from New Hampshire to go away.
I put on my hiking hat. Maybe somebody would think I was a ranger.
At any rate, it turned out this was the last few blocks of the parade and as all the participants in front of me turned into the gathering spot, I sped up and headed home.
Sometimes getting out of your comfort zone just makes life far too uncomfortable. Sometimes, when you’re on the road, being curious leads to wonders! Other times, you end up in a parade.
One final note, an observation more than anything. After the parade fiasco, I had the chance to stop at the John Brown Farm State Historic Site, former farm of the abolitionist leader who was hanged two years before the Civil War for trying to incite a slave rebellion.
It’s a pastoral, beautiful site - a place where, perhaps, we can and should use history to consider the meaning and responsibility of what freedom actually means. Two thoughts: 1) It was the Fourth of July and I was the only person there and 2) Rising up over the trees right next to John Brown’s farm are the famous ski jumps used in the 1980 Lake Placid Olympics. They built a wonderful sports complex around it with an Olympics museum. For a couple bucks you can ride an elevator to the top, where you can gaze down on John Brown’s Farm.
Some Housekeeping: Friends, I hope you’re all having a nice July. As always, thank you so much for being here - I can’t tell you how much it means to me to have you all reading and commenting and sharing with friends. This little community continues to grow! I also want to make sure that I take a moment every so often and tell you how grateful I am at all your Buy Me A Coffee donations! We don’t have a paid subscription option here yet (and maybe never will) but my goodness how you all have taken to heart making sure that I’m constently caffeinated! Thank you!
Many of you have asked me to go into a little more detail about what, exactly, I’m doing in New York and I’ll get into that in another post laer this week.
Until then, keep reading and I’ll see you soon!
Hilarious!!
Awesome! 🤣🤣🤣