So we got up at the crack of noon on Friday and packed up the car, ready to make our trek to the new house. It was rather uneventful until we reached a tiny little unassuming sign on the side of Interstate 287:
Hmm, not much of a fanfare really, despite the fact that this was a major turning point in our lives. Surely there must be a more official looking and, well, just bigger sign out there somewhere, right?
Oh. Yeah, that’ll do it!
The ride up involved taking I-87 more or less all the way north, from Suffern to just past Lake George. It brought back very welcome memories for both me and my wife, as the first home we shared together was in New Paltz and we would travel up and down 87 all the time to visit friends and family. The last time we had actually been up this way was quite literally years ago; we both got a bit choked up when we saw this sign:
In order to commemorate our joyous homecoming, we stopped at the Plattekill Service Area just outside New Paltz. It was there we saw a curious relic of a bygone age. We crowded around the strange, alien piece of machinery, wondering what its purpose was and why would it have ever existed:
Once we finished gawking, we got back on the road and traveled north. The hour grew late, thanks to multiple stops to use the facilities and to peel several filthy diapers from my child’s body, and when we finally arrived at the house – just a few miles outside North Creek, NY – we slept like the dead.
However, the next morning we were treated to a wonderful country breakfast by my mother, complete with real, localy sourced maple syrup:
We followed that up with a trip to Schroon Lake, a nearby community on the shores of the eponymous body of water that featured a public beach, boat launch, and some very interesting stores and restaurants. One in particular caught our eye; we plan on checking it out sometime soon:
After wandering about town we sat down on the parklike, comfortable expanse of grass dotted with trees that led down to the lakefront. There, we sat and enjoyed the age-old tradition of trying to teach an infant how to fly:
Unfortunately our time at Schroon Lake was cut short by a massive thunderstorm that rolled through the area. We headed back to the house and enjoyed a leisurely evening, then left to return home the next day. The storms followed us down the entire way, turning a five-and-a-half hour trip into a nine hour ordeal complete with torrential downpours and hailstones the size of marbles, but nothing could dampen our spirits after getting to spend the weekend in our new home. Our daughter, especially, seemed to enjoy the experience: