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not around Lake George
Wednesday, August 12 2009
setting: forested Minerva Area, Adirondack State Park, New York
Gretchen sleeps poorly when she can hear rain or any of the other white noises most of the rest of the world finds comforting, so she'd slept poorly the night before last. Last night there wasn't any rain, but the birds started singing well before sunrise and their chipper songs interrupted her dreams. They sounded to me like Wood Thrushes some distance away.
At some point we went on another spelunking expedition into the cave not far northeast of our yurt. This time we went as far as we could, where the ceiling dipped down into a pool of water and the air-filled part of the cave ended.
Eventually we packed our stuff into our bags and lugged it all down the hill to our car and drove homeward. Gretchen had the idea that maybe we should stop at a cabin somewhere else along the way for an additional night, but when I nixed that idea, she thought we should at least find out more about Lake George, which was on the way. Perhaps we would see a place where we could stay some future day, some place, say, like the Antigua Resort on Plum Point. So we got off at the lake's southern end and then had the idea that maybe we could just drive around it. What we didn't count on was that the lake is not a simple round lake one can drive around, it's actually a small finger lake extending over 30 miles northeastward, nearly to the Vermont border and Lake Champlain. So after northward driving up the lake's eastern shore for some miles and watching the economics of the region quickly decline from private-road exclusive to trailer-park-and-burn-barrel rustic, we consulted a map. But that caused enough confusion to send us into a roadside store (the place smelled like a grease trap) to ask for directions.
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