Diary of a Vacation - continued

After a restful night, we awoke to rain Ė lots of rain. Ruth was our weather person who checked conditions every morning on her way out for a run. I donít think she ever did get a run in. We dressed accordingly and headed off for our complimentary breakfast at the little establishment down the road. You have to wonder when something is free. Believe us, nothing is free.

We crowded into the tiny restaurant waiting patiently for our turn to be seated. There were line crashers that day (not us) and a restaurant that was short of staff and short on temper. We would later comment that a few of the waitresses needed a "happy pill". After an infinitely long period of time standing elbow to elbow, Take Charge Phyllis decided to investigate the seating situation and report back. She marched forward, but with discretion, only to be quickly ushered back in line by the sergeant-in-arms. It didnít seem to matter that some ignorant patrons pushed their way by us and seated themselves. It seemed to be the "pick on Canadians" day at the restaurant and other patient individuals.

Phyllis decided she might pour us some coffee while we were waiting and headed towards the deserted coffeepot. Take Charge Phyllis was once again dissuaded when one poor desperate soul grabbed the pot to pour himself a cup. "Thatís against the law, sir" the waitress bellowed for all to hear. "You canít serve yourself in here." A little embarrassed Ė or maybe a lot embarrassed, he retreated back to his seat. Eventually we got service Ė well maybe not what you would call service. As we were seated waiting for the waitress to finish taking our orders, Ruthís school mom training came alive. Ruth gritted her teeth every time the waitress opened her mouth. It became a joke eventually. All you had to do was look at Ruth and try not to laugh. Her face said it all. So, at every restaurant, we had a few chuckles when the waiter or waitress tripped up on their grammar and repeated such slang terms as "OK" and the like. We wasted no time exiting that place. Out in the pouring rain we dashed to the car. It was off to Shelburne Museum for a dayís adventure.

Only Phyllis had the foresight to bring an umbrella and it was far too small for all of us to fit under. In the gift shop, Ruth and Carolyn decided to purchase the over-inflated priced clear garbage bag rain ponchos. (Phyllis had another word for it, but it canít be printed here Ė something to do with what the male species might use on occasion, if you get my drift.) I declined to purchase the flimsy plastic and said that I wouldnít melt in the rain. Sure enough, the rain stopped mid way through the tour.

We managed to take in about one third of the sites before leaving to catch the mid afternoon ferry across Lake Champlain to New York state. Timing was perfect when Carolyn turned into the parking area at dockside. She was particularly nervous when the cars were being loaded onto the ferry. Parking attendants guided each driver into their prescribed tight space on the lower deck. There was barely enough room to open your door and exit the vehicle. All Carolyn could do was think of Bobís car and that she better not scratch or ding it. It might be an old Cadillac, but it was still as Cadillac!

The ferry ride would take one hour to reach the shores of New York State. Everyone enjoyed the scenery, even on a cloudy day. The shoreline was always in view. Rocky projections of small islands jutted out of the water like stone green icebergs. We decided to scout the waterline for signs of the mystical lake monster "Champ". It probably wasnít sunny or warm enough for Champ to surface for a visit, as he was not sighted.

Once the car rolled off the lowered drawbridge of the ferry, we headed what we thought was north towards Lake Placid. Mistakenly we followed the highway (pardon me, that should be "route" as they call the highways in the U.S.) 9N, assuming that "N" meant north Ė NOT. But being of the female persuasion, we didnít drive too far out of our way before logically stopping to verify directions. (I donít know what it is about men, but they would never admit to being lost or helpless.) Ruth, the only available lady in the group, liked the look of the attendant who gave us proper directions. We told her she was robbing the cradle, but that didnít seem to deter her. She liked his smile, at least thatís what she said. Back south we headed and picked up 9N that eventually headed north towards Lake Placid.

 

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