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. 

Tired out

Its been a long day. I made it to Massachusetts,  but I'm tired. So tonight I'll just share some pictures. Tomorrow I'll have more to say I'm sure.

Back to the beginning...

20 years ago, I graduated from Word of Life Bible Institute in Pottersville,  New York.  It was a one year intensive Bible program eqivalent (or perhaps a little more than that), to a four year Bible degree without the other subjects like math, science, literature,  and so on.

Anyway, I didn't always agree with the views of the professors or guest speakers, but I gained a lot from my time there and I think it was a key factor in the shaping of my adult self.

It was also the first place I ever rode a scooter.  Yeah, this is where it all began. It was a little Honda belonging to a guy in my dorm. I don't know if it was an Elite or an Aero or something else, but I remember it was chunky and square and only 50cc's. It also had character. The owner had lost the key, so we started it with a pair of aligator clips.

I remember a few rides clearly on that thing. It was fantastic, if a little scary since the roads here outside Schroon Lake have mostly 55 mph speed limits.

So I started my day this morning in the little Village of Bouckville,  NY. I'd slept poorly,  but the bed was hard and lumpy. Give it a moment.

Anyway, after rolling up my sleeping bag, taking the tent down and packing everything back on the scooter,  I popped back onto U.S. 20 and headed east to rt. 12 north.

Utica was a pretty easy ride,  though riding on anything wider than two lanes on the scoot at speeds over 40 mph always freaks me out. The Streak handled it better than I and by 7:30 we were well past Utica and in the mountains heading eastish toward Pottersville.  We made pretty good time and it took less than four hours to make the trip. 

I'll tell ya, as riding roads go, route 8, west of Warren county, is pretty sweet. At the Warren county line it turns into a minefield of bumps and lumps and poorly done asphalt patches. Even then there's a gem of a corner to be found, in the rare place where Frankenstein didn't feel he needed to pit stitching on his monster.

Well anyway, I arrived in Pottersville and went down memory lane a bit. I caught up some with the director of admissions and he showed me some of the changes on campus. Below you should find a photo of the dorm where I caught the scooter bug.

After visiting the old alma mater, I popped up to the town of Schroon Lake,  touched base with my brother and wandered around the town a bit.  I also enjoyed a nice lunch at a little restaurant in town,  Pitkins I think it is. 

After washing my clothes at the laundromat, I popped up around the top of Schroon Lake and found a gem. Yeah, a diamond in the roaugh really, but wow. Adirondack Road is amazing. It is a rider's dream of twists, turns, ups and downs. It's also a rider's nightmare of sand and uneven road surfaces. The folks who maintain the road seem to think filling potholes with sand equals road repair.  Even so, the road was excellent. 

I made my way back to Schroon lake and am now in a cabin on Word of Life Island. I helped out a bit with some painting they needed done, so they put me up for the night. Seems a fair bargain. Tonight the bed won't be so lumpy.

Today's photos are in order of the chronology of my tale from getting up to heading to bed.

a little over two hours...

Says Google maps about my route today,  which took over seven.

It was a good ride though. I started out by buzzing through Letchworth State Park, where there are a few fun twisties, even at the speeds posted. The scenery was breathtaking.

I left the park about 9:30 and started out on my main route. It wasn't a bad route by far and I got to see a bit of the finger lakes, as well as some beautiful mountains and valleys. 

I'll tell you though,  a 150cc scooter goes faster downhill than up.

I arrived at the campground around 3, but no one was here, so I headed to visit my aunt for a bit. While there, the camp clerk called and said to just go ahead and set up my tent and someone would be around eventually. 

So, here I am, all set up. It's a bit warm, but I'm sure that will change now that the sun is behind the mountains. 

Enjoy the pictures. I'll label them once I get to a regular computer. My tablet lets me post pictures, but doesn't let me do much with them.

New York from Lancaster

In 7.5 hours.

The wind was brutal through most of Pennsylvania.  It nearly took me off the road multiple times. 

I'd packed the scoot with my camping gear the night before, wrapped the crate in my custom made cover,  and left from work yesterday morning wih a mostly full tank of gas and a bit of apprehension.

See, I did this once before,  when I was 34 and the scoot was mostly new. Here we both are, five years later, and we're both looking a bit older. It seems we're both still up to the challenge,  me and he scooter, comrades on asphalt.

We left from Lancaster around 11:15 in the morning, the scoot puttering along beneath me without any complaints.  Then we hit rt 501 north out of Lititz and all the dark spirits of Hell seemed to converge on us in fierce wind gusts. This went on until just a bit south of Williamsport. 

The countryside was magnificent.  We pitter puttered through the
Landscape of fields and farms, taking a break or two to refuel. After Williamsport,  I turn onto rt 287 north. The wind had died down considerably,  and the road became a winding serpent of asphalt through the mountains. It was glorious.

The fresh green of the leaves, streams visible alongside the road, dappled sunlight falling on me, and a winding road to buzz along all added up to a phenomenal recipe for a great ride.

And then I hit New York state. It wasn't so bad at first,  but route 37 in NY is so cracked and pitted it falls into the category of "badump-badump" roads,  because that's the sound they make.

When I arrived in Castile, I wasn't quite so sore as I had expected to be.
I parked the scoot in the drive at my wife's grandmother's house and was greeted joyously by my fluffy dog , my wife, and son (who had traveled separately by car), and then we went for wings at the town's one pizza place.

All in all, I'm looking forward to the rest of my trip.  Tomorrow I will leave Castile and head toward Massachusetts,  stopping about halfway,  a bit south of Syracuse, to camp for the night.