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I recently shared how last year’s vacation plans went awry. This got me thinking about our very first road trip: our honeymoon. Similar to our recent trip, things didn’t go quite as planned.
Our honeymoon started out normal – two relatively poor young people heading to a supposedly romantic destination. As a New Englander, I had always heard about the Poconos: tales of heart shaped beds and champagne-flute hot tubs. Tales of Pennsylvania in the fall. Because of these tales, I was excited to join my new husband in a borrowed car heading for the Poconos.
We drove roughly 10 hours before arriving at our destination in the mountains of Pennsylvania. Check-in was pretty typical – nice lobby with an adjacent indoor pool that could be seen from the check-in desk, and nothing to alert us of the shock to come.
We were directed a little further up the mountain to our personal cabin. The night air was chilly, the lighting was poor, and dead leaves covered the entry. These were my first signs that not everything was magical in the Poconos.
The inside was not much better than the outside. It was chilly, a little stinky, and not at all what I expected. As I entered, to the left was a thick, brown, shag rug-like wallcovering. Straight ahead was a wall with a yellow/orange mural, and a narrow pea-green bench-like couch attached to the wall. What was going on here? Had we stepped back in time and landed in the 70s? Across from the couch was a cold double-sided fireplace. Apparently, a warm fire was extra…if you purchased firewood. Uh oh! The stories might have been just that: stories. We continued exploring.
Further inside, we found the promised heart-shaped bed and more shag rug walls. Eventually we found the…hot tub? It was not designed like a champagne glass. In fact, I’d never seen a hot tub quite like this, and, thankfully, I’ve never seen one like it since.
The hot tub was a large round basin about a foot (maybe less) deep. Seriously, when sitting in the tub, the water might have come up to our waists. There was a single firehose-like spout to fill tub. There were no jets. There was no sinking into the tub, with warm water up to our shoulders.
I’m glad hot tub designers have become more imaginative since the 70s.
As a new bride, a door to the toilet would have been nice. There was no door. This was in the same room as the hot tub, oh, and a shower. All these amenities were separated from each other by only partial walls. No doors. No walls to the ceiling. Okay, I was seriously starting to cringe.
Maybe I could think this through while putting the clothes away.
As I pulled out a dresser drawer, the front fell off into my lap. There was writing inside. The previous visitors had some advice. It was “don’t stay here,” and “go to Caesar’s Palace,” and “the number to Caesar’s Palace is ___,” etc. written all over the inside of the drawer! Oh my gosh! I was dumbfounded. What had we gotten into?
In addition to the warnings, there were some positive comments, too, like “try to find the good, it isn’t all bad”. That’s it! I’m officially starting to freakout. I hollered to my husband, and we both began to pull out the remaining drawers. Every single drawer was filled with warnings to not stay at this resort.
My husband started to think through the situation. It was late, we hadn’t eaten, and there wasn’t much we could do right then. The plan: find food, and in the morning we would leave.
We had to call the front desk for food options (this was before smartphones). We learned there was a “snack shack” across the street. At the supposed “snack shack,” we found a bar that billowed cigarette smoke as I opened the door. Ew! As the non-asthmatic, I volunteered to go in and see what I could find. When I asked about food, the bartender looked at me like I was crazy and responded that she might be able to find some roast beef. I was pretty sure taking the bar up on its offer of roast beef was a bad idea. I thanked her and left.
We decided to go with option B: drive back down the mountain and go to the Wendy’s drive-thru that was open until midnight. After the drive-thru, we meandered back to our cold cabin, sat on the 70s couch, and ate cold French fries.
It was confirmed; not everything in the Poconos is romantic and magical. Our stay at the Poconos was short, less than 12 hours.
On honeymoon day two, we were back in our borrowed car and heading north. I remember making two stops. The first stop was the local Walmart for a few supplies. The second stop was a payphone. Yes, you read that right. Payphones were a thing back in the day. 😊 My husband made an unplanned call to his father in New Hampshire.
I will always be grateful to my father-in-law, who booked us a stay at the Chase House at Mills Falls. The Chase House sits directly across the street from Lake Winnipesaukee. Our room at the Chase House was a welcome site. The décor was modern and tasteful. There was a big, beautiful, king-sized bed, a gas fireplace, and a balcony looking over the water. I can’t describe how happy I was to see this beautiful, comfortable room. I almost cried with joy.
We ended up spending the rest of our honeymoon right there in New Hampshire, exploring the area and spending time with my father-in-law and his girlfriend. Among other things, we enjoyed an impressive scenic airplane tour over the White mountains, and we visited the Castle in the Clouds.
Our trip was late in the season, so many of the on-the-lake activities were unavailable. However, the area did boast of having many great lake activities such as sunset cruises, fishing tours, etc. We have since had the privilege of visiting Lake Winnipesauke during the summer, and we found it to be just as beautiful and worth the trip.
Our honeymoon trip started out pretty rough. But we finally made it back home with smiles on our faces and a trip we’ll never forget. As I prepped this material, I reviewed the linked websites. I was happy to see that, while updated, things look familiar to when we stayed. My recommendation is to avoid the hype of the Poconos and find someplace else, possibly the New Hampshire lakes region instead.
