Still loving the novelty of being able to drive to America in under an hour, we thought it would be fun to take mum and C across the border. After last time's mistakes, we now knew the route to the real Lake Placid, and having seen how stunning the area was we thought it would be a great place to show them a snapshot of America: Rural-New-York-State-style.
We managed to leave the house earlier than on our previous road trip to America, but our good start didn't last; after just five minutes in the car we were directed on a very long detour, as all the roads we wanted to go down were blocked off with police guards. (I think this was due to the 'Bike Fest' cycling event which had a route scheduled to go through the city-centre that day. As keen a cyclist as I am, it was definitely not a day for a leisurely ride - in the midst of a ferocious thunderstorm, the rain was coming down so hard it was bouncing up off the tarmac and was a struggle to see.)
So by the time we had finally made it out of the city after an hour-long detour, we arrived at the border roughly the same time as on our last visit to America. As it wasn't a Canadian bank holiday there were hardly any queues at the border, but it took us just as long to get through:
I had filled in the wrong paperwork for mum and C – I mistakenly thought they needed an ESTA, but they in fact needed to have a visa waiver card, so we had to go into the building on the American side of border control and sit and wait in line, then they had their fingerprints and photo taken and, after paying $6 for the privilege, a card was stapled in their passports.
After this slight hitch, where I feared for a split second that I would get my mother thrown out of America - which would not help her unease with travelling - we got through OK and were soon back on the open American roads!
So by the time we had finally made it out of the city after an hour-long detour, we arrived at the border roughly the same time as on our last visit to America. As it wasn't a Canadian bank holiday there were hardly any queues at the border, but it took us just as long to get through:
I had filled in the wrong paperwork for mum and C – I mistakenly thought they needed an ESTA, but they in fact needed to have a visa waiver card, so we had to go into the building on the American side of border control and sit and wait in line, then they had their fingerprints and photo taken and, after paying $6 for the privilege, a card was stapled in their passports.
After this slight hitch, where I feared for a split second that I would get my mother thrown out of America - which would not help her unease with travelling - we got through OK and were soon back on the open American roads!
En route to the lake we stopped off to look at a waterfall T and I had driven past last time. We initially balked at the $10 per person entrance fee, but as we walked around the boardwalk route suspended from the rock walls, and peered through glass-floored viewing platforms which jutted out over parts of the waterfall, we realized how much work has to be done to preserve the walkway and that, together with the views of the stunning waterfall, made it well worth the money.
Having left Montreal under a fierce thunder-downpour it rained intermittently during the drive, and as soon as we got out of the car and started walking on the waterfall trail it began to rain on us. But this wasn’t too bad as the waterfalls sprayed us with water anyway – clearly, it was not meant to be a dry walk!
Heading back to the car, our stomachs rumbling (it was 1.30pm - definitely lunch time!), we decided to head to Lake Placid to eat our picnic lunch. It was only ten minutes further along the road and so therefore sounded a good and simple plan.
But it was not to be…
But it was not to be…
We peered at the map on the satnav, looking for small roads to take us to a nice picnic spot on the lakeshore. Driving along them, they didn't take us to that pleasant picnic spot however, rather each one took us to houses and private land, or just a dead end in a wood. Turning around again and again and time ticking on, we headed back to the town of Lake Placid in an attempt to get to Lake Placid from another direction.
Eventually we did find the lakeshore - of the correct lake - but instead of a scenic spot, found ourselves on a car park meant for fishing access and boat launches. Spying a guy sat at a table near the entrance to the boat launch, we asked him where a good picnic spot on Lake Placid was. He shook his head, explaining we would not find one – Lake Placid is privately owned; the only public areas being the islands, which are camping grounds. Our stomachs furious at it now being after 2:30pm, we had no choice but to return to our old favourite, Mirror Lake, and have our lunch there. As soon as we pulled up alongside the lake it began raining heavily, so our picnic was eaten in the car. Not exactly the leisurely picnic eaten sat in the sun on the edge of Lake Placid we had envisaged…
Eventually we did find the lakeshore - of the correct lake - but instead of a scenic spot, found ourselves on a car park meant for fishing access and boat launches. Spying a guy sat at a table near the entrance to the boat launch, we asked him where a good picnic spot on Lake Placid was. He shook his head, explaining we would not find one – Lake Placid is privately owned; the only public areas being the islands, which are camping grounds. Our stomachs furious at it now being after 2:30pm, we had no choice but to return to our old favourite, Mirror Lake, and have our lunch there. As soon as we pulled up alongside the lake it began raining heavily, so our picnic was eaten in the car. Not exactly the leisurely picnic eaten sat in the sun on the edge of Lake Placid we had envisaged…
We managed to have a brisk walk around the town in a break between the rain showers, and found a lovely deli where we went in to buy some coffees but then were tempted by the cheeses on offer, and ended up coming out of the shop armed with handfuls of different varieties from the shop's ‘Orphan Box’: a box where they put the small remnants of cheese leftover from the big cheeses.
Returning to a much drier and cooler Montreal, our American cheese haul was eaten with some fresh bread and salad for supper (at least this meal was a little more successful!)
Returning to a much drier and cooler Montreal, our American cheese haul was eaten with some fresh bread and salad for supper (at least this meal was a little more successful!)