US Route 9 Day Two

 My two goals for Plattsburgh, New York, were to walk along the shore of Lake Champlain and have breakfast. The Golden Gate Lodging motel seemed the perfect motel for the first night. It advertised free wifi and a private beach. I reserved a room with a lakeview. We arrived after dark, so I didn’t explore but I pictured the lovely, if short (it was cold), walk I’d have along the sand next day.

When I opened our lakeview curtain next morning, I was blinded by white. And the beach access was blocked by a four-foot snowpile from the parking lot snowplow clearing. In the icy wind we walked the end of the parking lot and saw nothing but snow and ice. So I stuck my foot into the snow beyond the pavement and called that my walk.

We drove north about 20 miles to the town of Champlain. We found the geography just as Jim had scoped out: US Route 9 North becomes an unnamed state road and then a dead end. It actually terminates in a small parking lot for border officials. Just to the west, Interstate 87 forms an important border crossing with Canada—Montreal is just 43 miles away.

I took the obligatory photos of the END 9 sign and the NO OUTLET yellow diamond, then we started our official Route 9 trip at 11:50 a.m.

On the way north we had spotted several orchards with large strangely shaped trees. They actually looked like grape vines, but much too thick and self-supporting. When we passed the Chazy Orchard (largest Macintosh orchard in the world) complex we had our answer. These trees were gnarly and twisted with flat tops. I guess for orchards that specialize in pick-your-own, the trees are left visually appealing and tree-like. These trees were obviously pruned for maximum production.

We stopped by the orchard store but a hand-written sign informed us that as of January 3 the store was only open on Saturdays. But across the street (Route 9) is the Apple Lodge Café. The waitress called out, “Sit anywhere you like,” and served up some delicious seafood chowder. Jim told her he is a soup expert and that was the best seafood chowder he’s had. I was tempted by the poutine, so close to the border, but I felt carb-conscious, so I opted for grilled haddock bites. I make a mean butter pie crust so I rarely order pie in a restaurant, but in the largest Macintosh orchard’s café I took a risk. I was disappointed. But the meal was a success. The café was cozy and full of locals enjoying a meal. I was channeling Groundhog Day.

After lunch I took the wheel and Jim napped. In Plattsburgh I got lost. Yeah, sometimes a US Route isn’t well-marked (or I was asleep at the wheel). But the street was a loop, so I got to see the local McDonough Monument and a bit of the lake.

Once in the Adirondack Park, I stopped at Ausable Chasm. It offers hikes (but I didn’t bring my snowcleats), summertime tubing, and a raft trip through the aforementioned chasm. I chatted with the man in the visitors’ center and told him my crazy plan. He didn’t think it crazy at all. He grew up in Albany and married an Adirondack woman. In the days before available GPS, he and his wife picked up his two brothers in Albany and headed towards Disney World. One brother assured them he knew the best way through New Jersey, directed them onto the Garden State Parkway and fell asleep. Deep into south Jersey they realized their mistake and had to take the Atlantic City Expressway to Philly to recover.

I’ve been fascinated by Adirondack for quite some time. I’m amused by the fact that the chair has become the ubiquitous symbol of relaxation. Even the Virgin Islands feature the chairs used in mountain tuberculosis sanatoriums. I didn’t know that Adirondack  Park is not a state park but a 5.8 million acre area. About 44 percent of the area is protected wilderness. Part of its original purpose was to protect the watershed that feeds the Erie Canal from  over-logging.

Route 9 featured some dramatic mountain scenery, with rocky cliffs and cascading ice. I stopped at Schroon Lake where the pharmacist told us rich New Yorkers built summer homes on the lake in the Victorian era. There were ice-fishing huts near the shore.

Around Lake George we drove into a snow storm. Happily, Jim doesn’t mind driving through snow, so we carried on in the dusk, passing Lake George, Glen Falls, Saratoga Spa, and Albany. I chose the most inexpensive motel for lodging. I was a bit concerned when the office had bullet-proof glass, but it’s morning now and we heard no drug busts to disturb our sleep.