Secaucus.

June 13, Greenwood Lake.

Secaucus, right by the City.
So close.
Half the circus got lost on the way in, New Jersey road maze crash course for small-town America circus drivers (confusing directions made everything worse.) The Fuscos went by the same toll booth three times; the attendant recognized them the third time around and let them by with no charge.
Kristine came by; we met with her sister and went for lunch at an Indian restaurant on Route 17, then for ice-cream at Carvel's. Kris bought a little Fiat, the new version of the "yogurt pot" car of my childhood, and it has turned out to be a road novelty and a guy magnet. The last of today's long series of comments and thumbs-up, an old Latino guy in an oversized red Cadillac pulled over next to us at a traffic light, rolled down the window and said, "Nice car." We said we liked his and he chuckled.
We were in and out of Secaucus in a few hours as we had to move last night to avoid weekday morning traffic. It was a stressful drive for me, the blind night driver. The reward: two whole days here plus a day off today.
This is a beautiful lot in a postcard-perfect mountain village.