So that’s it? The Pilgrims crammed themselves into a rickety wooden crate, thrashed about on powerful seas, risked life and limb, finally made it to their new world, and stepped out onto THAT?

I was expecting a bit more from Plymouth Rock. Like maybe a rock actually big enough to step on. Or maybe something covered in neon: “DUDES, step here — it’s one small step for man…..”

Oh well. We’ve now seen Plymouth Rock and can cross that off our list. And, in the true spirit of the 50/50 tour, we drove two hours out of our way to see a rock that some argue is of dubious origins. Not that I wouldn’t mind returning to Massachusetts.

Some members of our family were lucky enough to spend an entire week in Massachusetts, while other members of the family toiled away to earn the family’s keep. The youngest member of our group had the most fun in Massachusetts. She spent the week at a girls-only baseball camp. After having been the only girl out of 120 Little League All-Stars in our district, it was a treat for her to play the game with a bunch of like-minded — and very capable — girls.

While she worked on batting and fielding, Bill stayed nearby and toured Springfield and Concord. Supposedly, he was there in case of an emergency at the baseball camp, but I think that was just an excuse to sleep in and read magazines.

Mid-week, Bill was joined by our teen. The kid was so full of himself, flying solo at age 16. What a man, so ready to spread his wings and conquer the world. At the airport, he walked confidently past security and down the jet-way. I was surprised that the airlines didn’t require any kind of parental permission slip, since he was under 18. You’d think they’d at least want a note from his mother. I waited and watched him go, even though I knew the odds were remote that he’d turn and blow me a kiss. I felt a pang as he left, knowing that in a very short time, he’ll be leaving our nest to find his way on some college campus. At least he’ll know how to navigate through airports, subways, and hopefully, his campus. If he could only learn to do laundry.

Finally, a few days after my family abandoned me for Massachusetts, I made my way north as well. We met up in Boston and explored the lively city.

Our friend Mike recommended we visit the Durgin Park restaurant, which has been operating for 100 years, and serves a traditional New England desert called Indian pudding made with corn meal and molasses. Sorry, Mike, but this stuff was horrible. Luckily, they also made a Boston Cream Pie that was heavenly. So much for authenticity.

At least we saw some authentic sites along the Freedom Trail, like the Old North Church, where Paul Revere’s compatriots hung the lanterns to warn of the British Troops (One if by land, two if by sea…..).

We stopped at an amazing Italian Bakery famous for its cannoli. We were told that at times, the line goes out the door and down the street.

We couldn’t help but notice the strong accents some of the locals had. One guy gave us directions to the haaaaabaaaaa, when we were looking for the harbor. Another guy’s using the accent to his economic advantage.

Look — they were expecting us!!

In Massachusetts, we traveled along interstates 90, 91, 93, and 95 , plus routes 2, 8. 143. 9, 20, 202, and 1, making our way south to Plymouth for that famous pebble, shown below. I don’t think this is quite how it looked when the Pilgrims arrived.

We also noticed this plaque in Plymouth, describing another perspective on the fateful landing.

While in Plymouth, we boarded a replica of the Mayflower for a first-hand look at life at sea.

You gotta wonder about those Pilgrims. Did they know how rough their journey (and new life) would be? Or were their lives already so difficult that they felt they had little to lose? In the future, will people wonder: why on earth did those people cram themselves into tiny, uncomfortable cars and airplanes only to spend countless hours visiting all fifty states? Did they know how rough their journey would be?

45: Massachusetts
Plymouth Rock