On our brief trip to the Adirondacks on Saturday, we stayed right around the corner from our cabin instead of in our usual place in Schroon Lake, which is farther away. So as soon as we arrived, even though it was raining, we took a quick ride up to the cabin, to see if anything had been done since we were last there.
Imagine our surprise to find two huge trucks parked directly in front of the cabin! They were labeled "Parker Water Wells," hailing from East Poultney, Vermont. No one was there, of course - it was the weekend and 6:15 p.m. at that. We figured their presence meant that the well drilling is imminent. (Sure enough, when we got home we got an e-mail from our contractor saying the well would be drilled today, Monday).
We went back the next day when it was sunny and took some pictures. Here is the view of the cabin with the trucks in front of it, with our own Jeep dwarfed in comparison.
DH, engineer that he is, had to examine the machinery.
This is what the view looked like from our deck! That's me, enjoying the beautiful scene of a truck that will soon supply water to our cabin. Diva took it all in stride.
We also took a ride up to the top of Mount Defiance, which overlooks Lake Champlain and Ft. Ticonderoga. Here are a few views of Ft. Ticonderoga (directly below) and the scenery.
All in all, it felt as if we were away much longer than just one night. I think that's because even the ride up seems like vacation. Unlike the hectic drive up to Cape Cod on Route 95, the route to the Adirondacks, Route 87 (the Northway), is a scenic road. Once out of New Jersey the highway is surrounded by peaceful mountains and trees and there is little traffic, especially now.
The drive gives us the chance to ponder really deep questions and think about things we never think about. Here are a few examples of these conversations.
While listening to Sirius satellite radio's "Sixties on 6" station, we heard the old Herman's Hermits song, "Henry VIII I Am." After listening to the whole song from beginning to end, I had a revelation.
"Hey, do you realize, he's the 8th husband named Henry? And she's a WIDOW? I never thought of that before! He's probably going to die! She probably killed her previous 7 husbands!"
DH: "I think it may be like a reversal of the real Henry VIII - isn't he the one who killed all his wives?"
Me: "Oh you're right! It's symbolic! Of course! Why didn't I ever notice that?"
(Yes, we had this conversation without benefit of marijuana, in case anyone wondered.)
Another topic included:
Me: "You know those silo things by the barns? What do they put in them?"
DH: "Grain, I think."
Me: "How does it get in there?"
DH: "I think they pump it in." (Leave it to him to know the mechanics of such a thing).
You can tell I'm not from the country.
Another topic requires a little background. In New York State all the bars seem to have some kind of state-run gambling game where you fill out little tickets with the numbers you want and there's a TV screen showing these numbers being picked - there is a "drawing" (done via computer) every so many minutes. They don't have these in New Jersey so it is always mesmerizing to sit in the local restaurant/bar in Whitehall, NY where we go, and watch these numbers on the screen. This prompted DH to ask,
"Back when gambling was illegal and the Mafia ran the numbers game, who decided what the 'official' number was that won, and how did they let people know?"
Another question for the ages. I wonder if I could Google it to find out the answer.
As you can see, since we don't strain our brains with really serious subjects on these little trips, we come back extremely rested.