48stateroadtrip.com

Big number 20. One more state and my roadtrip can legally drink.

Rain has stolen most of my bug-splatters. The Wilmington Notch campground, however, donated some pine needles as replacements. Long may they ride.

Crossing the bridge over Lake Champlain (Lac Champlain), there’s a broken-down fortress that the US built on the lake before realizing that they had chosen a site legally in Canada.

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Awful, awful headline.

They charge you $10 to drive up this road that goes to the summit of Whiteface Mountain. If you don’t want to pay $10, you can take a six-mile hike to get there. I paid the money and drove. It’s a well-maintained road. The person who takes your money is pleasant. When I got to the parking lot near the top, the elevator was broken. Happy day! I got to walk up the rest of the way. Steep stone steps. Lots of people going up them. Trail was 0.2-miles long, but I wonder whether they measured the base or the hypotenuse. Talked to a German couple from Berlin a little on the way back down. A little cold and windy. The day, not the couple. The couple were average-temperature at least in demeanor. Book said this was the highlight of many visits to the Adirondacks. Maybe.

In real-time, I’m kind of done with fall foliage. And only New Hampshire and Maine left to go!

Gettin’ close to the top.

Trail to the top.

The road up.

The top of the mountain.

Lake Placid — yes, it’s shaped like a horseshoe. Who knew?

The watchtower, watching.

Inasmuch as paying to go on any 8-mile stretch of road is worth it, this was worth it I guess. Better than hiking it — can’t standing hiking somewhere that other people have driven to (see: Vermont) (once it’s posted).

And then I left the state.

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I kind of think that the guy who asks my brother questions at work is right: the 1980 US hockey team defeating the Soviets and winning the gold medal is probably the greatest (American) sporting event of all time. Granted, I like the romantic idea that the victory was what started the country’s overall turnaround from, well, the 1970’s — but still: morning in America.

So, went to Lake Placid and checked out a couple venues. I think ski jumps make for good photo subjects.

Ski jumps, where no miracle happened in 1980. At least, not for any American.

Kind of doesn’t look that imposing from on top.

Looking up the ski jump.

Colors, viewed from ski jump. Woo!

Eh. I’m kind of bored of my own photos. Maybe I just need more sleep. Sort of reminded me of a film strip or something.

Inside the “1980 Arena”. No, you can’t go in (it’s still used as an arena). And the “olympic museum” at the “Olympic Center” isn’t worth the $5.

The Olympic church, with double-parked Hummer.

Lake Placid is a pretty area. I didn’t go to the bobsled run. People are a little reserved, but friendly when you talk with them. Parking costs $1 an hour in town. Downtown Lake Placid is located on Mirror Lake, a mile away from Lake Placid. It cost $10 (IIRC) to go to the ski jumps. It came with a free chair lift and elevator ride, though.

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“Big Slide Loop” is not a thing. “Big Slide” is a peak. “Loop” refers to the hike being a “Loop Hike”. “The Brothers” may be a peak or several peaks or some other undisclosed feature. And the whole thing is in a part of the Adirondacks called the “High Peaks”, even though the highest is only 5,000 and change. They’re not far from Lake Placid. I camped at a campground called Wilmington Notch. There were showers, but the lines between campsites were indistinct. And though the weather looked sketchy, the guy at the mountaineering store said that I should *definitely* go hike Big Slide that day, because the rain was going to hold off and I’d definitely get the good view from the top.

My route: The Brothers trail to Big Slide, then down by way of the John’s Brook South Trail.

There: the stage is set. Here are the ride-along photos.

Path, uphill, with roots.

First valley view. Clear-ish.

View from the First Brother. Maybe First Brother.

This isn’t scenery, this is the trail. It’s at least as steep as it looks.

That peak up there is Big Slide. Still looking clear!

I’m going to say that this is me on top of Fourth Brother. If there *is* a fourth brother. If there are any brothers for that matter.

Steps through the trees.

A moss-covered brook.

Final assault to the peak and me without my harness. (Fine, it’s only about 70 degrees from horizontal in real life. That’s kind of steep for a hike.)

Me at the peak. Not so clear. But I like the idea that the world ends just past that row of trees there.

The way down isn’t as steep, but it’s two miles longer (four up, six down).

A brook-covered moss.

A happy cascade. I imagine. It’s probably repressing anger at the cairn in the foreground, come to think of it.

A big rock that looks like it could function as a big slide.

Leaves, red.

It’s hard to completely disrespect a trail that places chaise longues at various locations.

John’s Brook.

More leaves. And then it started raining.

Proof Evidence that I made it back to the trailhead. Plus I wanted to show off my rain jacket that I never get to wear (because it doesn’t rain on this trip, apparently).

Sorry for the narcissism on the photos — I just felt that it was *me* that was making this place come alive.

• Without the view at the peak, the hike is a little light on payoff.
• It’s a very different terrain than I as a western hiker am used to. Out west they would’ve found some way to build switchbacks across all those faces. Not here.
• As such, it’s a ten-mile hike that took me six hours.
• Also as such, the trail itself was more engaging than I’m used to — although there were also plenty of long stretches but nothing to do but go up steep, dirt trails and peer through the tree-prison.
• And some of those rocks were pretty slick: yes, I fell once.
• But: pretty, worth it.

So it was.

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Some random road that my GPS told me to get on.

Driving into the Adirondacks was pretty. Heck, *the Adirondacks* were pretty. And if my transmission would’ve only taken one week longer to get fixed, they probably would’ve been even prettier. ‘Course, the days are already too short, so — you know.

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PS, I know it’s only because it’s part of a headline, but it’s a relief to finally be able to legally capitalize the name of a season.

The Reader’s Digest book suggested that, while in Rochester, I should visit the George Eastman house. As a result of my obedience, I now have a new idol. A dead one, sure, but I’ll take what I can get. Reasons for my idolatry:

1. Single.
2. Liked photography.
3. Enjoyed planning vacations.
4. Traveled a lot.
5. Chose the name of his company because he felt that “K” was a strong letter that people would respond to (it ended up being a pretty decent brand).
6. Adopted new hobbies frequently and was driven to become competent in many things.
7. Didn’t like being the center of attention.
8. Enjoyed giving stuff to people (although I don’t know that he did it primarily only when changing residences).
9. When he shot himself (at age 77 and with a calcified spine), he had a second gun ready just in case the first one malfunctioned.
10. Had really good taste in houses.

On that last point:

The billiard room.

Decoration over the study doorway.

Double stairway with view into the conservatory.

Coolest ashtray ever.

And the outside looks like this.

Fine if you disagree on the taste, but I’d like to think I’d do something similar if I invented roll film and got rich off it.

The site is also the location of the world’s first photography museum. The museum itself is pretty small — only two real galleries. One of them had “50 Photos by Jessica Lange” in it. Um, aside from not being famous, I’m a better photographer than Jessica Lange. The other gallery had an exhibit that was first displayed there in 1975 that was entitled “The New Topographics” and apparently pioneered the non-judgmental photography of “man-made landscapes”, i.e., buildings (many of the photos from the exhibit can be found here).

Thus inspired, I went out to the parking lot and took this picture:

No judgment passed.

I really no-joke kind of liked some of those photos. And then I drove away (in my own car, not one of the two above).

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I’d been warned before going to Palmyra that there wasn’t much to see and you know what? There’s not much to see. (For non-Mormons, this is another Mormon history site — sorry/you’re welcome/meh, depending on your attitude.) That said, the woods behind the Joseph Smith farm did seem peaceful (though there were more mosquitoes than I’d figured on) and was a nice, flat place for walking around and occasionally pausing to look into the trees and ponder.

Grove, trees. Joseph Smith may have prayed *right here*. And I’m surprised more people don’t get lost roaming around this place.

And then the trees, being looked up into.

And with that, the only prime LDS history site I haven’t been to is Jackson County. Suppose I ought to go to Israel some time also. Maybe next year. Seriously — maybe.

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Which is sort of hard to admit with as anti-hype as I usually am. Just that I’ve never seen such a massive waterfall complex. Either of the major falls by itself would’ve been fantastic, but those two in the same place? Worth the hype maybe.

Of course, in my drive to keep the 48-state road trip pure, I declined to cross into Canada for the full-frontal photos. I’m guessing it would’ve been mostly mist anyway.

If I ran the world, I’d force people to rename everything currently named “Bridal Veil Falls” to something a little more thought-provoking.

American Falls seen from the correct, American side.

I would’ve preferred they film the dancing scene while I was watching, but whatever.

Horseshoe Falls with attendant mist.

American and Horseshoe: Two Great Falls that Fall Great Together

Should probably be “fall greatly”.

Ways I Would Fix the Niagara Falls Experience:

• Reduce the number of people visiting by 98%.
• Get rid of all the buildings.
• And tour boats.

You know, I go to National Parks and it sometimes feels like the Parks Service is trying to prevent people from seeing the park. Then I go to Niagara Falls and better understand what they’re trying to prevent. Oh well. Mighty falls, regardless. Would probably look better without all the hotels and people. And it should be possible to walk yourself down to river-level without having to pay some concessionaire to ride their elevator.

Should.

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Oh yes, a previous home-state. I paid taxes here once — no, twice! Ah yes. Fond memories of taxes I have.

It would kind of be cool if the bug splatter were on the sign. Then again, that would be a very large bug traveling at a high velocity, which might actually not be that cool.

I stayed at a campground at Lake Erie State Park that night, whatever day this was. No idea, seriously. Anyway — was a decent enough campground right on he lake, no need to worry about trees separating campsites (because there weren’t any, you see). $17/night, pretty average. BUT there were free showers available, BUT the showers were really moldy. Tough.

I also had a skunk run through my campsite that night that tore through my garbage. It was a little weird listening to a skunk eat stale potato chips, so I put my headphones in. No one and nothing got sprayed, most importantly.

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That makes three-eighths (3/8ths) of the way there in terms of states. It’s not like I’m excited about blowing through states, just that it happens so I might as well enjoy it.

Daylight! Legible! Huzzah!

Someone on some other website told me I should visit Presque Isle in Erie if I happened to be driving through, so I did and I’d sort of like my 40 minutes back, although I took this photo of a lighthouse:

Bravely warning sandcrabs away from the 25-mph park road!

I’m sure real lighthouse people (they have those, right?) could explain why it makes sense to put lighthouses somewhere other than right next to the water, but it’d probably be a long and boring explanation, so — you know.

I’m also now saying that I’m in the “northeast” and no longer in the “northern states”. It’s a fine line. A fine line that I’ve drawn between Ohio and Pennsylvania. And it was weird starting out driving in Bengals AM radio country and then traveling through Browns and Steelers territory before ending up in Bills AM radio land. It’s also weird how much of AM radio is now on FM.

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And I had this dream last night where I was rafting down a river with members of my family and we got to a spot that looked like a waterfall, but everyone else said it wasn’t, but I was pretty sure it was so I jumped out of the raft and then they all continued and it turned out to be a 20-foot waterfall and I called 911 and couldn’t quite figure out where I was (I thought I was in Central California in a river near a national park other than Yosemite, Sequoia, or Kings Canyon, but I couldn’t think of what that park would be called and then someone helpfully suggested it was “Hehla Park”, which meant “holy” in some unknown language, but that person didn’t know what he was talking about, so I disregarded), but then it turned out that no one got (physically) hurt, so I hung up.