Lit.

A Rose by any other name.

Newport, RI – Waves lap at the shore with the caress of a saxophone.

We’re spending the night at the historic Rose Island Lighthouse, and the Newport Jazz Festival is in full swing across the bay. I had never thought of Common as jazz.

Constructed in 1870, the lighthouse is part of a 17-acre island comprising the remains of Fort Hamilton, which was first built during the revolutionary war in the late 1700s. Throughout the years, its bunkers and bomb-proof barracks have also served as munition depots and as quarantine for cholera patients.

Today, many of the structures across the island are in disrepair and used as a refuge for the countless birds nesting nearby.

View from above.

Double-crested cormorants jackknife into the waves, resurfacing great distances away with silver squiggles trapped in their beaks. Seagulls the size of small dogs caw their pleasure at the musical accompaniment across the bay, while a canoe see-saws on the break after a speedboat passes.

The property, accessible only by boat, is a museum by day, but offers overnight stays.

With the day’s visitors gone, I climb the lighthouse tower, prying myself through the tiny door to the widow’s walk. There are no storms to watch today, just an opportunity to embrace the panorama – views of blue peppered by sailboats cutting into the sea breeze.

Night falls, and there are six of us alone on the island. In a lighthouse.

What an incredible experience.

Rhode Trip.

Ochre Court.

Newport, RI – Perched atop a cliff, the path winds through more than a century of history. The water, precipitously below, sparkles like jewels tossed into the sea.

On the other side, tall manicured hedges hide mansions behind a tuxedo of leaves, polka-dotted by clumps of flowers.

But they don’t hide too much.

The palazzos and chateaux along Newport’s historic cliff walk must have also been meant to be seen. Rockefellers, Dukes and Vanderbilts: this was a veritable who’s who of the industrial revolution in America.

And I will walk...

One can only imagine the gilded parties.

The 3.5-mile cliff walk gives the public right-of-passage, despite stepping through private property. Unsurprisingly, this hasn’t always come without disputes, but it's a must-do if you're ever in Newport.

Massive stone houses stand dressed in Romanesque columns, ornate archways and sculpted iron gates. The Breakers, a neo-Italian Renaissance palazzo built by Cornelius Vanderbilt II at the turn of the century, boasts 70 rooms and looms over the pathway.

It's easy to forget these were just summer homes.

History Rocks.

Thanksgiving.

Plymouth, MA – A pantheon stands by the water, concealing what is likely the best-known rock in America.

No, not the Beach Boys.

The year 1620 has been chiselled into what otherwise appears to be an ordinary boulder the size of a small bench. It sits in the mud, a gnarled scar from a previous attempt to move it snarling back at you.

Tourists gawk, peering over the railing as a ranger tells a version of a story of Plymouth Rock that directly contradicts the one on the sign not 10 feet away.

Such is often the way with lore.

Somehow, I had never been here. And yet, I think I may have been more excited by visiting Lobster Hut and finally getting a lobster roll.

Hop To It.

Aligned.

Worcester, MA – After a morning spent alternately dropping into, and climbing out of, New York’s green crevasses, we’ve fallen into a lineup that snakes around a parking lot.

Intentionally.

A constant stream of people toting flats of candy-coloured cans flows in the opposite direction. Many of the more ambitious have come prepared with trolleys – and apparently, deep pockets. They sport craft brewery t-shirts from around the world, seemingly trying to one-up each other with the most obscure, or the most sought-after.

Despite being an almost two-hour wait, it’s apparently actually a quiet day at Treehouse Brewing Company.

The only quiet spot at Treehouse that day.

As one of the top-rated breweries in the world – and one that doesn’t distribute beyond these lineups – I’d imagine they’ll also be selling many t-shirts, in addition to the coveted cans.

The sun is in full bloom against an utterly blue slate, so the minutes melt away.

Typical brewery aromas like wort blend with citrus notes, which makes sense given Treehouse is particularly known for its juicy, hoppy beers. The Adirondack chairs framing the garden sit empty, however, as it’s a can-only day.

There are too many people here for them to efficiently let the taproom flow.

An oddly efficient 90 minutes later, however, we have our own flat – a rattling rainbow of treats we carry past the hyphenated line of eager patrons still filling out their checklists.

It'll be worth their wait.

Vitals:

• Time: 12 hours
• Distance: 932 kms
• Weather: Sunny and hot
• Province/States: Ontario, New York, Massachusetts
• Wildlife: None