A journey through the mountains

Wednesday morning I woke to the sound of birds outside the cabin on World of Life Island where I had spent the night. The sun was bright and the lake sparkled in the early light.

After breakfast and a bit of set painting,  I said farewell to my brother, packed up my gear, and headed for the boat dock where I was ferried back to the town of Schroon Lake. Once the scooter was packed up, and after a quick stop for gas, I started off toward Lake George.

If you're ever traveling through the Appalachians, route 9 berween Schroon Lake and Pottersville is a constant string of bumps and divots. But then you get through Pottersville and turn onto 9 toward Chestertown,  and it's a different world entirely.  The road surface is smooth as silk and there's a lake to the left or right most of the five mile distance. The curves of the road are continuously snaking through the mountains and beside the glorious mountain lakes. Once through Chestertown,  the road isn't quite as twisty, but it still has the glorious view as well as several big hills.

It was in Pottersville that I started to see a large number of bikers, but it was in Chestertown that I fell in behind a group of goldwings. Apparently this week is Americade in Lake George.  The place was full of motorbikes,  out of which I saw only a handful of other scooters.  From what I saw, perhaps a tenth of the bikes were goldwings, with the rest being primarily cruisers, and only a smattering of sport bikes. It wasn't quite the Harley-fest that one might find at Sturgis,  but they definitely had the largest representation.

While I saw a few bikes going in, and one older guy on a camo'd up Big Ruckus, the town of Lake George was awash with chrome and bar pirates.  I was disappointed that there were so few scooters, but it was still something to see. I'd considered avoiding the town entirely by going north around the top of Schroon Lake to Ticonderoga, then down through Vermont,  but I'm glad I decided to go through Lake George instead. I considered stopping for a while, but wanted to get to Massachusetts,  so I stopped only long enough to take a few quick photos,  then rolled merrily along on my way.

As I moved southward,  the number of bikers gradually thinned, and the road rolled by beneath me. The ride along the Champlain Canal was beautiful, but eventually I turned off toward Vermont. I wasn't in Vermont for long, but route 386 was lovely.

And then I hit construction...um, I mean, Massachusetts.  The roads through Williamstown were dreadful. After picking my teeth up off the road, I eventually was able to make it past the construction and found another gem: route 112 through Worthington,  Mass.. it's just staggeringly beautiful and the road wss in fairly good condition.  Route 112 goes through rural country,  then follows the Westfield river, and if one turns left ont Montgomery road before crossing the river into Huntington, one is rewarded with more smooth curvy roads...and then one falls into a giant pothole upon crossing into Westfield.  North road is what they've labeled this endless string of pitfalls connected by occasional bits of asphalt.

Eventually I made it to my sister's house and set up for the night. My nephews helped me set up my tent, and after supper I went to visit my mother.

It was a good day and a fun ride.