A Schroon River Rest Stop

Another Sunday morning dawned with preparations for driving up to the farm. I was very anxious to get there and see the fence work which had been nearly completed. We drove up the Northway, the dogs and I, as far as Exit 29 and exited for a rest stop at Frontier Town. I'd tried to think of some place which we hadn't been before, but what could possibly beat this pristine, scenic spot?:

The dogs ran down to the river's edge but didn't go it. It was simply too chilly:

Even Seamus stayed on dry land. I concentrated on getting old Winky and Wally to stay with us and not lag too far behind:

Winky's mind often wanders - and as a consequence, his feet do also. I walked over to him every so often and reminded him of our existence and that he should make an attempt to stay with us:

Little Madeline was feeling like a regular member of our family by now, accustomed to adventures in such places - and this place in particular:

We'd walked down the river for some distance, so I gave a call and got everyone moving back toward the car:

Daphne and Clover made a side trip to the top of a sand dune. Hey, a dog's gotta explore, ya know:

It took just a few minutes before we spotted our red car parked just ahead in the forest:

I began walking toward the car after giving a call to those dogs reluctant to leave the water's edge:

The sandy trail through the forest toward the car was looking like Thanksgiving to me:

Seamus posed for the camera, looking noble:

But once all the other dogs were loaded up into the car, I still had to urge Winky forward. This can be a difficult job, and picking him up is no fun either. So I called and clapped. I learned a long time ago with elderly, nearly deaf foster dogs, that clapping is something they seem to either hear or feel. It usually works with Winky. I got him up into the car with the other dogs and began backing along the sandy lane in the forest so that we could continue on our way:

The Start Of A Very Special Trip Up To The Farm

I left for the farm on a Sunday morning and began driving northward, just as I usually do. But this trip would be different because my sister was coming all the way from Columbus, Ohio to visit. And her daughter, my niece, would be coming with her, bringing along her beloved Papillon all the way from Chicago. When their visit ended, my niece's Papillon would stay with me and my friendly dog pack. So I drove northward as far as Exit 29, pulled into the old, abandoned Frontier Town and went straight for the beautiful shores of the Schroon River:

My six dogs needed a rest stop and frankly, so did I. We walked down to the river and looked around:

Wally trotted across the sand dunes between the forest and the river:

Winky and Fergus joined him for a sniff-fest:

But I gave them a call, wanting them down by the river to get a drink before we continued on our way to the farm:

The trees were just beginning to acquire their autumn colors and the scene was altogether pleasant:

The dogs ran up and down the shore and had themselves a thoroughly wonderful time:

But we couldn't spend too much time there, so I gave them a call and we began moving back toward the car:

But Seamus, of course, wanted to go into the water before returning to the car. That way he'd be wet and covered with sand when he jumped in: Both dogs and kids seem to delight in making messes:

Dainty little Clover trotted up over the sand dunes toward the car. I got all the dogs loaded up and we continued on our way, traveling up Blue Ridge Road toward Newcomb:

I stopped at the Adirondack Buffalo Company along the way, both to enjoy the view and to buy some meat for my family's visit:

I purchased Bison meat and Elk meat to cook for my family and returned to the car to find the dogs all anxious about where I'd gone and why I'd left them behind. We then continued on our way, but I'll post more tomorrow:

Rest Stops On The Way Up To The Farm

I was able once again to get a Tuesday off of work, so on Sunday morning the dogs and I took off for a trip back up to the farm. We made it to exit 29 of the Northway where we stopped at the former Frontier Town. I did not go back to the ghost town where I'd spent so much time on previous rest stops, but instead headed straight for the sandy beaches along the Schroon River. Yes, that's the Schroon River and not the Boreas River as I've said in previous posts. I will now attempt to go back and change the old posts:

This was the perfect rest stop for the dogs and me, with sand dunes, cool clean waters, glorious sunshine and no other people anywhere:

Winky is old, crabby and almost totally deaf, so getting him down to the water's edge is a chore. But I kept coaxing him over the sandy hill and he began to enjoy himself:

Seamus, on the other hand, knows just what to do, plunging straight into the water with great exuberance:

Old Wally is mostly blind but doesn't let that stop him from having fun. This was a great romp at the beach for him:

But as always, this was just a rest stop and we had many miles yet to travel. So I called all the dogs back with me to the car and snapped their photo as they eagerly anticipated the next leg of the journey. All the dogs, that is, except Winky. He was resistant to nearly everything as is his custom. So we all waited while he poked along, sniffing plants and peeing on everything:

Winky finally waddled into view and I coaxed him up into the car so we could continue on our way:

We didn't stop again until we were on Route 458 in the northern Adirondacks, getting quite near the farm. There I pulled off onto some state land which apparently had been recently logged. There had formerly been an old cabin at this site. Now it was gone and I rather missed it:

All the dogs scurried around, checking out the sights and sounds and - hey, what is that little bell flower?

It was Spreading Dogbane, a wildflower I'd seldom seen except on Jacqueline Donnelly's wonderful blog, Saratoga Woods And Waterways, in my mind the best blog on the Web. I looked it up in my field guide when I got home and also learned that it was poisonous, a problem when it grows in pastures. I never learned why it was called Dogbane, but it sure was pretty:

The younger dogs (and old Wally) trotted down a dirt lane through the woods which I'd once explored in the car for a very long way before I gave up. But it was time to go and I called them all back to me:

I got all the dogs collected and up into the car so that we could finish our journey to the farm. We were almost there at that point, but I'll post more tomorrow:

Excursion To Head-Of-The-Meadow Beach

I arrived in Provincetown and checked in at the Watership Inn, a bed and breakfast in the heart of town. But I was way ahead of schedule and the weather was beautiful, so I drove out to the Head-Of-The-Meadow Beach, a part of the National Seashore. I parked my car and prepared to take a long ocean side walk:

I began by climbing up some sand dunes because I wanted to get close to these magnificent roses:

The rose-hips were abundant, huge and tasty:

Yes, I ate one:

And a few flowers were blooming still:

So I crossed the sand dunes on my way to the beach. Why take the easy way when there's a much more difficult route?

I arrived at the beach and began walking, walking, walking:

I'd worn plastic slippers so that I could walk right out into the water. I wished Seamus was with me. He'd have gone right out into the cold waves. Little Clover might also have tried it:

I didn't find too many signs of life, but I did find this crab claw, a carapace and a skate egg case:

And on I walked, farther and farther from my starting point:

The round polished stones were abundant and looked so beautiful. When I was a boy on the Oregon coast, I'd pick up lots of them and bring them home. But almost all turned dull and lackluster when away from the salty ocean mists. The Oregon coast tourist stops used to sell polished beach agates in bubblegum dispensers. Now that's the way to get really polished stones:

More Cape Cod Scenery

I was driving in the "forearm" of Cape Cod when I spotted a sign pointing off to the right toward the Fort Hill Historical Area. Well, I was in no hurry, and as I wrote yesterday, I thought it likely that this would be my last trip there. So I turned off the highway and onto a narrow lane which took me to a historical section with old private homes:

The biggest and most amazing of the houses also had a whalebone arch over the walkway. I walked over and looked closely but couldn't decide if these two bones were ribs or jaw bones. Well, they were one or the other. I later saw a pair just like them in the Pilgrim Monument Museum, but didn't see a sign explaining which bones they were:

The houses were beautiful and, I'm sure, expensive beyond my comprehension. But I had miles to go yet before I reached Provincetown at the very tip of the Cape, so I continued on my way:

In the town of Eastham I stopped momentarily at this windmill. It's a landmark for me as I remember it from my early trips to the Cape as a young man. Also, I later brought my two boys here and we stopped at the Eastham windmill:

The nearby houses were expensive, but even the new ones kept to the old Cape Cod style:

Traveling on, I came to the sand dunes around the town of Truro. But this time I drove up a small residential road and stopped to take a few pictures of the scenery:

The Cape here is very narrow:

There isn't much land area between the ocean on each side in this area. It's picturesque, but I imagine it's fearsome in a hurricane:

Do you see that tall tower far off on the shore? That's the Pilgrim Monument in Provincetown, also on a tiny strip of land in the middle of the ocean:

Salt marshes, sand dunes:

I was parked on a small residential road up on a sand dune. The highway toward Provincetown runs the length of that narrow strip of land. And it was time for me to get back onto that highway and get myself to Provincetown: