An essay on past boyfriends, grandchildren, Cheeseheads, Buccaneers, and leaves.

Original post date: 10.27.2022. Revised: 07.19.2025.

What’s on your travel bucket list?

Near the top of my list was a trip through the New England states to take in the splendor of the leaves changing colors.

I fell in love with this idea decades ago because my first college boyfriend was from that part of the country. He’d tell stories about growing up in a town so small you literally drove through it before you realized you had driven through it.

His description of life “up there” sounded like an audio version of a Norman Rockwell painting - hayrides in the fall, hiking through the woods to chop down an evergreen tree for Christmas, Saturday afternoons playing checkers on the front porch of the general store while his parents shopped (he was an English major so he might have enhanced the narrative for my benefit); nevertheless, I was in love with him, and by default, all things related to New England, especially the idea of being there in the autumn to see the leaves change color.

I digress for a moment to share with you that I live in Northeast Ohio where there is no shortage of trees, and when the leaves start to change around here, they do not take a back seat to any other place in the country, regardless of which state’s Department of Travel and Tourism is beckoning you to their neck of the woods to see their leaves change. I use this word carefully, but in this case, it is absolutely appropriate – autumn in Ohio is "awesome".

Nonetheless, I had to see those New England trees for myself – so a friend of mine and I booked a ten-day bus tour through those six states in late September.

Turns out, the leaves were the least interesting part of the trip.

While we were a bit early for peak season, there is no denying the scenery is indescribably – almost painfully - beautiful regardless of what time of the year you’re there. Not just the trees and mountains, but the lakes and rivers and coastline as well.

And those small towns – so small you drive through them before you know you’ve driven through them – really do look like they’re waiting for someone to set up an easel in the middle of Main Street and continue the legacy of documenting small town life in the twenty first century.

What was most interesting to me though, was that for ten days, nearly fifty people from across the country – red states, blue states, purple states - found more things in common than one could imagine.

Most travelers had grandchildren, and the general consensus was that while they loved them dearly, they were perfectly okay (and secretly grateful) when their parents came to pick them up.

We didn’t have much to base this on, but when our fellow traveler from Iowa proclaimed that the corn served with the lobster bake paled in comparison to that grown in her state, we took her word for it. If the couple from Nebraska didn’t disagree, why would we?

No one complained about the three days of constant rain. A third of our bus travelers were from the Pacific Northwest. Enough said.

Things got a little tense on Sunday. A strong rivalry had developed between Tampa Bay and Green Bay fans, and some carefully crafted verbal skirmishes were exchanged over a clam chowder lunch. But, by dinner time, Buccaneers and Cheeseheads were sitting at the same table sharing their contempt for any other team that wasn’t, well…one of the Bays.

And everyone….everyone….remembered to remind Jack to not leave his cellphone in the pocket of the bus seat in front of him yet again.

My point here is that if fifty people, with widely divergent backgrounds and points of view, can figure out how to be the best version of themselves for ten seemingly endless days of 5:00 a.m. wake up calls, 12-hour bus rides, and the patience to hear about somebody’s granddaughter’s upcoming wedding at every single breakfast, lunch and dinner, then maybe we can figure out how to handle some of the really big stuff together, too.

I’m not so naïve as to think that if we all could just get along, then we’d all get along. But I do believe we have the capacity – and opportunity – to be the best versions of ourselves more often than we think.

Oh - about that whole New England-and-the-trees-in-the-fall thing. You definitely should go. Then come to Ohio.

What’s on your travel bucket list? I’d love to know the places that tug at your heart — and why.