I've thought about blogging since the first time I ever heard the term (when? who knows, 10-12 years ago?) but could never decide on a topic. I work in the Wine Biz and writing about wine seemed like a natural, but that felt a little to much like "real" work and I could never bring myself to "opinionate" on the grape, at least not in this forum.
So, on October 18th, 2010, I decided to write about where I spend A LOT of my time, namely the roads I ride and drive on virtually everyday. Fortunately, as a traveling salesman and regular bike rider, I get to vary my route quite a bit and have the opportunity to explore those roads that may not be the most direct, but always seem to beckon....
OK. Decision made, but what to write about in my very first post? Life has a funny way of handing you answers sometimes. This is where the title of this post comes into play. No worries, nothing bad happened. But hopefully it makes for a good story.
What it did not afford was regular and consistent access to gas stations. But more on that later.
One of the best things about this route is that it requires a ferry ride across Lake Champlain. There is a short (3 minutes or so) ferry at Ticonderoga/Crown Point that is free and will run 24 hours a day until they finish repairing the Champlain/Crown Point Bridge, but I like the Essex - Charlotte Ferry.
It takes about 20 minutes but the view of the lake and both sets of mountains is pretty hard to beat.
The ferry ride is a nice break, lets you stretch your legs and gives your mind a chance to wander a little bit.
That could be where the trouble started.
I got on the ferry for the return trip with less than 1/4 tank of gas, thinking I've got about 75 miles to safely find a gas station. No big deal.
But the Ferry is SO relaxing and beautiful and such a great place to take pictures and I'm thinking about how this could be a great part of the blog I've decided to write and what should I write about anyway and I was reminded of a great waterfall and old mill I'd seen in Wadhams on the way up that I really wanted to stop and take a few pictures of...
...and is that really a bakery on the corner in Wadhams (it is and called the Dogwood, but it wasn't open so I still don't know anything about it) and I could probably go a few more miles and I'll just get on the Northway and there must be somewhere to stop on Rt 9 before I get to Rt 8 and so now the gas light is flashing but I don't really need to worry..........
Just a quick bit of history here. I've always taken that flashing "you need gas" light as more of a guideline than an absolute. I take pride in running on fumes and always believe I can "feel" how much gas and miles are left in the tank. I even text an old work buddy every time the automatic shut-off at the pump doesn't kick in until it is within a few tenths of the tank capacity (most recent text: "11g shut-off in a 11.2 tank! BOO-YAH!" He told me not to gloat). Needless to say, I've run out of gas many times over the years including, but by no means limited to, the first drive into town with infant first daughter and wife in the car, more than once on the NYS Thruway (where it is illegal to walk along the road which means you are supposed to call a tow truck...ha!) including once on the way to an appointment I was late for already that led to me pushing my Ford Taurus nearly a mile to the rest stop (so much for tow trucks), driving on Rt 17 in the Catskills where I was able to make it to the top of a rise (despite the bucking of the car every time I hit the gas) which allowed me to coast to within 50 yards of a gas station so maybe that doesn't actually count as "running out", and of course many, many times "just a few" miles from home, including an incident not 3 weeks before this post.
.........and I'm really sure there's a place at the next intersection or the one after that and the little stutter in acceleration when I step on the gas pedal is nothing and I can squeeze out a few more miles if I put it in neutral down every hill and there's JUST GOTTA be a place in Wevertown....
There is not a gas station in Wevertown. There is a US Post Office and a lumber yard and something called Beaver Brook Outfitters but there is no gas station.
I pulled up next to a woman getting in to her car at the Post Office in Wevertown and asked. "Where is the absolute closest gas station?" 4 miles up Rt 28 on the right. Perfect. I can make that. All that coasting has surely given me an extra 4 miles. Maybe it will be a repeat of the Catskills episode, and I'll just coast in.......and I would have....had I been able to make it another 2 miles to the top of the hill outside of North Creek. From there I would have glided like a (insert your own poetic image here) into the station.
1.5 miles north of Wevertown I finally and irrevocably ran out of gas.
A nice lady saw me pushing my car into a handy parking lot and gave me a ride that last 2.5 miles and dropped me of at a conveniently located Stuarts, where I bought yet another small gas can for my collection (yes, I have bought many, nobody loans them any more) plus 2 gallons of gas. Then I started the walk back to the car.
Unless it is really cold, snowing or raining, I won't hitch hike to solve a gas problem. If someone stops and offers a ride, fine, but otherwise the walk is part of the penance for insulting/ignoring the gas gauge. So I set a good pace up that hill that would have given me the oh so satisfying coast into the station in the hope that I could make it back to the car before the sun goes down.
About 3/4 of a mile from the car, another nice lady stopped and offered to take me the rest of the way, so, following the rules, I accepted.
.
Oh, and while I filled the tank later, I texted my buddy. The message was simple: "Piper Paid!"
OK. Decision made, but what to write about in my very first post? Life has a funny way of handing you answers sometimes. This is where the title of this post comes into play. No worries, nothing bad happened. But hopefully it makes for a good story.
On the 18th I needed to make a round trip drive from Ithaca to Burlington . It's about 6 hours each way. A good portion of the trip has no cell coverage and when you hit the scan button on the radio, it sometimes take 5 minutes before it lands on a station with decent reception, at least the way I go.
Whenever possible (as time allows), I try to choose a route that avoids the big interstates or that has the most interesting views and places to stop. For this trip, choosing to go through the Adirondacks on Rt. 8 yields a double bonus. Not only is it beautiful, it is actually about 50 miles shorter than taking the big roads, although it takes about the same amount of time.
Along the way the route gave me some fabulous fall foliage and I got a look at the first snow of the season on the tops of the Adirondack & Green mountains.
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| Green Mountains behind Lake Champlain |
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| Adirondacks from the Northway |
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| Foliage |
What it did not afford was regular and consistent access to gas stations. But more on that later.
One of the best things about this route is that it requires a ferry ride across Lake Champlain. There is a short (3 minutes or so) ferry at Ticonderoga/Crown Point that is free and will run 24 hours a day until they finish repairing the Champlain/Crown Point Bridge, but I like the Essex - Charlotte Ferry.
It takes about 20 minutes but the view of the lake and both sets of mountains is pretty hard to beat.
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| Essex, NY from the ferry observation deck |
 |
| Looking north up Lake Champlain |
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| Vermont foliage and the Green Mountains |
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| Adirondacks from the Lake |
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| Ferry Landing in Charlotte, VT |
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| Even the little Scion is adorable, mid-lake. |
The ferry ride is a nice break, lets you stretch your legs and gives your mind a chance to wander a little bit.
That could be where the trouble started.
I got on the ferry for the return trip with less than 1/4 tank of gas, thinking I've got about 75 miles to safely find a gas station. No big deal.
But the Ferry is SO relaxing and beautiful and such a great place to take pictures and I'm thinking about how this could be a great part of the blog I've decided to write and what should I write about anyway and I was reminded of a great waterfall and old mill I'd seen in Wadhams on the way up that I really wanted to stop and take a few pictures of...
 |
| Falls on the Boquet River in Wadhams |
 |
| Old Mill in Wadhams, no idea what is going on inside.... |
...and is that really a bakery on the corner in Wadhams (it is and called the Dogwood, but it wasn't open so I still don't know anything about it) and I could probably go a few more miles and I'll just get on the Northway and there must be somewhere to stop on Rt 9 before I get to Rt 8 and so now the gas light is flashing but I don't really need to worry..........
Just a quick bit of history here. I've always taken that flashing "you need gas" light as more of a guideline than an absolute. I take pride in running on fumes and always believe I can "feel" how much gas and miles are left in the tank. I even text an old work buddy every time the automatic shut-off at the pump doesn't kick in until it is within a few tenths of the tank capacity (most recent text: "11g shut-off in a 11.2 tank! BOO-YAH!" He told me not to gloat). Needless to say, I've run out of gas many times over the years including, but by no means limited to, the first drive into town with infant first daughter and wife in the car, more than once on the NYS Thruway (where it is illegal to walk along the road which means you are supposed to call a tow truck...ha!) including once on the way to an appointment I was late for already that led to me pushing my Ford Taurus nearly a mile to the rest stop (so much for tow trucks), driving on Rt 17 in the Catskills where I was able to make it to the top of a rise (despite the bucking of the car every time I hit the gas) which allowed me to coast to within 50 yards of a gas station so maybe that doesn't actually count as "running out", and of course many, many times "just a few" miles from home, including an incident not 3 weeks before this post.
.........and I'm really sure there's a place at the next intersection or the one after that and the little stutter in acceleration when I step on the gas pedal is nothing and I can squeeze out a few more miles if I put it in neutral down every hill and there's JUST GOTTA be a place in Wevertown....
There is not a gas station in Wevertown. There is a US Post Office and a lumber yard and something called Beaver Brook Outfitters but there is no gas station.
I pulled up next to a woman getting in to her car at the Post Office in Wevertown and asked. "Where is the absolute closest gas station?" 4 miles up Rt 28 on the right. Perfect. I can make that. All that coasting has surely given me an extra 4 miles. Maybe it will be a repeat of the Catskills episode, and I'll just coast in.......and I would have....had I been able to make it another 2 miles to the top of the hill outside of North Creek. From there I would have glided like a (insert your own poetic image here) into the station. 1.5 miles north of Wevertown I finally and irrevocably ran out of gas.
A nice lady saw me pushing my car into a handy parking lot and gave me a ride that last 2.5 miles and dropped me of at a conveniently located Stuarts, where I bought yet another small gas can for my collection (yes, I have bought many, nobody loans them any more) plus 2 gallons of gas. Then I started the walk back to the car.
Unless it is really cold, snowing or raining, I won't hitch hike to solve a gas problem. If someone stops and offers a ride, fine, but otherwise the walk is part of the penance for insulting/ignoring the gas gauge. So I set a good pace up that hill that would have given me the oh so satisfying coast into the station in the hope that I could make it back to the car before the sun goes down.
About 3/4 of a mile from the car, another nice lady stopped and offered to take me the rest of the way, so, following the rules, I accepted.
.
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I emptied the little red jug into the car and went on my way. None the worse for wear and with the perfect story for my first Road Work blog. Almost as if I'd planned it.
Have I learned my lesson? You'd think so, but if you read a similar post sometime in the future, don't be surprised. I won't be shocked at all if I have to write it.
Oh, and while I filled the tank later, I texted my buddy. The message was simple: "Piper Paid!"
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