Thursday 19th October 2018 (updated)

We woke up to find there had been a light snow shower, and all cars and most vegetation was covered in a sugar coating of snow. Need I have to say it was cold?

After yesterday when it seemed we had ran out things to do in the Catskills, as our legs screamed no more trails, Jools asked if we should head north to the Adirondacks. I hadn't given it any thoughts, but seemed like a good idea to me, so I found a hotel in Lake Placid, routes were planned, and we looked at fall folliage websites, and it claimed around the Lake it was still at peak.

Anyway, the time had come for us to move on, we had exhausted things in the Catskills, and now further north the Adirondacks were calling.

We had breakfast, then packed the cases and an overnight bag for our last night, I paid the bill and it was time to go. The car was loaded, the windscreen swept clear of snow, the sat nav programmed, and off we went.

We drive north to Grand Gorge, then instead of turning east to Prattsville, we continue north. The road twisted lazily down a wide valley, lined with tree covered hills, nearly mountains, which slowly flattened out. Out of the Catskills heading due north to the interstate, through lush farmland laying in valleys skirted by heavily wooded hills, people were going to work or school, and we had a couple of hundred miles to put under our belts. It might have been a cold day, but the sun shone bright, and we made good time on the interstate. And the snow on the bonnet and back window slowly melted.

We go up to Saratoga, passing mile after mile of strip malls and then through the contre of the city, all universities and libraries and swanky looking shops. We stop for coffee. I have a large cup of vanilla chai, which I am not sure bears any resemblance to tea at all, and is now sweeter than I take coffee now, but nice to have once in a while, or once in a decade or so. And again, people in Dunkin Donuts are so friendly, or could it be that it is our voice that is so darned charming?

In truth I could do this every day of my life, travel somewhere new with the intent of getting shots. We take the wrong road out of the city, so have to travel for miles beside the interstate before turning onto it.

We joined I-87 and headed north to Canada. Or that is where the road ended up, we would turn off before then, if we remembered, traffic was amazingly light, and the empty road and twisty nature of it set my eyes drooping, so bad that I had to ask Jools to take over. We stopped at was supposed to be an information centre, wanting just a map of the Adirondacks, but found none, and little other than ads for hotels and summer activities.

We turn off the interstate, and before us were the mountains!

She drove us into the mountains, along a two lane blacktop, alongside tumbling young rivers which flowed down deep narrow valleys. But good shots were hard to come by, and soon enough we arrived in Lake Placid, where we were to spend the night.

Lake Placid is currently between seasons, the summer has ended and the skiing has yet to begin, so places are empty or closed.

We cruised through the town and out the other side, it is a lot more commercial than I remember for sure.

I saw there was a railroad, and about 5 miles out of town there was a level crossing, so I went hoping to see some train action, but only found that the rails were rusty and looking like no trains had run for years. Jools said she was hungry, so we turn round and go back to Lake Placid and see a place called the Redneck Grill.

As you can imagine, it was bbq; I had a sample platter and Jools had a burger. And I can tell you it was rather good. On TV was sports news, on three different channels, but the news all appeared to be the same, with the same clips used on all three.

We found a place to park in the centre of town, do some window shopping, but find nothing to tickle our fancy to be honest. So, we go not a bar for a swifter, think about what to do. We could check into the hotel, and with the temperature already at zero, that’s what we decided to do.

Out room was at the Best Western, nothing fancy but nothing wrong either. But outside it was parky to say the least, and apart form a quick walk before sunset to the lake, we saw no monsters in it, round to a shop that looked interesting, but wasn’t, it was back to the room to listen to the radio.

We go back out at eight, just to the next building down, a pub called the Pickled Pig, and although we were not too hungry, the fact they season, spice and smoke their own meat I could not resist. Heck, they even made their own ketchup, I had ribs, again. And it was better than good, washed down with a pint or two of vanilla porter, which was almost as good as the ribs.

And finally, to watch some baseball action, Red Sox up 4-0 in the 5th innings and by 3-1 games.