Here's the specifics: we rented a 'cottage' (actually a rather nice converted mobile home with several expansions) for a week. The cottage was situated within easy walking distance of Brant Lake, which itself is rather nice. Included in the rental was shared access to a 'private' beach. In this case, 'private' meant that if none of the owner's relatives or friends also using some of their properties up there weren't using the 12 feet long, 1 foot wide strip of sand, we were welcome to us it ourselves. Also included was the use of a canoe (too tippy for a baby, no thanks), a rowboat, and a paddleboat (which had been loaned out- 'Sorry, did we forget to mention that? Oopsie.').
The 212 mile drive up was fairly pleasant, went without a hitch thanks largely to MapQuest, and took about 4 hours. Pre-loading was fairly horrendous, I simply had no idea how much baggage is required to adequately provide for the needs of an infant away from home. Between that monstrous pile of gear, and the stuff for mom and dad, almost all available space in one pickup and one sedan was taken, leaving just barely enough room for my duffel bag (bachelors travel remarkably light). My offer to drive having been dismissed contemptuously by Mom, as she had no intention of entrusting her infant son to my driving (although I have a perfect driving record), I spent as much of the drive as possible snoozing.
(It is worth mentioning here that the night before leaving, I had stood in line for two and a half hours at Borders to get my copy of the 7th and last installment of the Harry Potter series, The Deathly Hallows. That I purchased it after midnight and then fled to the mountains to read it in peace without spoilers was no accident either. I too fell prey to the wretched abominations who felt it was their duty to sprint everywhere with bullhorns and bold fonts spouting "Snape kills Dumbledore, page 621!!" when the sixth book came out, and I had no desire to have this book ruined for me too. So packed away in my bag was my copy of The Deathly Hallows. I was snoozing because I had been unable to sleep from the combined excitement of having a long-awaited sequel (and final installment!) in my hands, deathly fear of some asshat ruining it for me, and anticipation of a camping trip in the morning, so I had read up to about pg 350 by then.)
So, we got there, unloaded, and then leafed through the fat binder of rules, dire warnings, and imprecations (and a few brochures for various restaraunts and tourist traps, natch) threatening to cause forfeiture of the security deposit should any infractions occur. No, really. An inch-and-a-half thick binder.
Needless to say, while the location itself was nice, the various disappointments inflicted upon us by the draconian rules (which we were guaranteed to break thanks to numerous booby-traps rigged to force infractions, like falling picture frames and rigged blinds, and doors with siezed return arms, and 40-pound mirrors on them), and broken promises (no paddleboat, sorely limited and woefully tiny beach, etc...) , actually elevated our stress levels rather than letting them lower. My advice is to stay far, far, away from 'Almost Heaven Realtors' when planning your Adirondack getaway. The key word in their name is 'Almost'.
It wasn't a total bust though. We did have some fun shopping in Bolton, we scarpered about in some tiny caves at the Natural Stone Bridge site, managed to get the 12 foot beach to ourselves a couple of days (well, once), and of course, we hung out, sat around the fire, DIDN'T GO TO WORK AT ALL FOR NINE DAMN DAYS, and generally relaxed as much as is humanly possible under those conditions. Orlo and I even squeezed in a few games of Magic: the Gathering, and a round of Monopoly (which I gave up on in disgust after he managed to get Pennsylvania Avenue, dashing my last hope at a monopoly better than Med and Baltic, while he had all the purples, oranges, reds, and Boardwalk and Park Place, most with hotels by then). Seriously Orlo, go to fucking Vegas already and get rich at the craps tables. Why the hell do you work for a living with luck like yours?
Highlights-
- All of us laughing ourselves silly repeating my mispronunciation of 'school' as shool while we were peering at road signs while wandering in Vermont. This occurred numerous times: "Hey look, a shool bus!", "Hey look, a middle shool!", "Darn it, why aren't these little punks in shool?"
- Several excellent experiences dining out. Seems like the locals don't screw with their meal ticket, service and food was uniformly excellent no matter where we dined.
- Lots of great weather = lots of teeny bikinis. God bless bikinis!!
- In RE the last highlight, me being single and free to openly ogle. Yay freedom!!
Lowlights-
- Who cares? I got to look at hineys and boobies.
- Other than the stuff I mentioned, nothing worth mentioning.
