Like many marriages, you plan things out loosely and often you are rerouted. We divert our trip south and are in Burlington, Vermont where we are conspicuous as "not from around here" without the ubiquitous attire of white sneakers, polo shirts and khaki shorts. I am used to blending in to my surroundings and I feel slight discomfort at confused looks.
The city itself is sublime with old buildings and icons the foreground for Lake Champlain. The city is old and quaint and preppy, akin to the people.
There is no lingering here as the next day we are bound for Lake Placid and beyond. We leave early for the ferry to Essex, New York and cross the lake to another quaint village with essing tarmac and magnificent views. The state shares it name with such a big city, but there is no hint of crowding or hurrying through the villages and hamlets.
We are now in Amish country and rural way of life is evident from the country stores and vendors selling tomatoes and flowers on the roads.
Lake Placid is our 4th Olympic City - and has actually twice hosted the games. You can see the ski jumps looming from around a bend and then you happen upon the city. There is little to see so we press on and find those roads that transfix and energize.
We hole up the night at a roadside motel that is clean, quaint and has great linens. We have been travelling for several weeks now and I am succumbing to the heat. Our meal is something microwaved, fruit and pretzels
We are now anticipating Niagara Falls in its glory.