A Ride To Peg's Pultneyville

One weekend while we were camped out at Dan's house in western New York State, Peggy said we were gonna ride up to Lake Ontario.  I was a little reluctant on accounta having just spent a month camped out at the Webster campground, which was on the shore of the lake.  She assured me I would enjoy the ride to Pultneyville, but still I unenthusiastically climbed into the SUV and only a grumbled a 'little' bit about it, shrugging, 'okay, back to da lake'.  Our time in New York was growing short cuz we'd been there six weeks already and November was fast approaching bringing with it what I feared might be snow, so I dreaded having to be 'wasting' one of our precious days together seeing the same area again we'd already been seeing for all this time.  She assured me I wouldn't be disappointed, and boy! was she ever right.  We drove back up to Webster and were met by the family of deer we had been seeing on a daily basis. Well, okay, you can never get tired of seeing that.

But then as we rode by way of the special scenic road called the Seaway Trail along the lake, the scenery changed dramatically as we rode through amazing apple orchards.  For a South Louisiana country boy, I was bug-eyed, nose-to-the-window as we passed all the trees loaded with all kinds of varieties of apples I aint nevah heard of.  I had no idea there was so many different kinds of apples.  And then, of course, there were grapes growing alongside them in many places, that being grape country as well. Peggy was right I was far from disappointed seeing all this.

When we got to the lake she took me to a park she usta love to come to and relax while gazing out over the lake.

    Okay, Cappy wanted me to tell you about this little park. The name is Forman Park. Just being in the park makes me feel as though I'm stepping back in time, to a more peaceful era. There's just something about the place. Even in summer, the air coming off the lake is cool and crisp. If the park is crowded; people everywhere, families picnicking or just relaxing, everyone is polite to one another, and still there's the quiet and restfulness. Often, I'd make the long drive by myself on weekdays when the kids were in school and folks were at work, leaving the park almost desolate. I'd go just to spend time alone to read, I might have my art supplies along, or just being still and listening to my own thoughts, or, and especially to try listen to what the Lord might be trying to tell me. And still today, when it's time to go home, it's always with sadness and regret that I have to leave, but I always do so with a sense of having been refreshed and with a longing to return soon. I hope Cappy felt that way, too. (To get a good feel for the place, click on the pictures to make them bigger)

The park was very nice and surprisingly not crowded.  I guess with all the apple orchards and harvest festivities around, everyone was elsewhere, so that made our visit all the better. We stopped at a restaurant/ice cream stand/bar there in Pultneyville and had a nice visit looking at the boats in this marina, while she had some frozen raspberry sorbet, keeping the windows of the SUV up and the heater on, cuz it was cold out up there already. The heater on...eatin' ice cream cuz it's cold outside. Shakin' my head. We're always laughing about one thing or another wherever we go, so that's a good thing.

      On the drive back to our camper we passed several front yard fruit and vegetable stands where folks were selling their harvest goodies.

 I learned from Peg that the 'Honey Crisp' apples were a local favorite prized for their flavor.  She said, tho', that when she was a kid, MacIntosh was the apples her family bought by the bushel load and snacked on them every night while watchin' tv, till the basket was empty. There were also pumpkins every where. Pumpkins and squashes.

It was an amazing trip and I learned something. In New York sumac is not poison like poison ivy like I'd always heard it was, and in the Fall it's quite beautiful. Peg says the Indians...nowadays to be politically correct I guess I should say, 'Native Americans', but they used to make a 'lemonade' kind of drink out of the dark red fuzzy 'berries'. Ya learn something new every day, it seems.

It sure added to a wonderful Saturday drive. I'm so glad we went that day and look forward to doin' it again sometime. When it's warm again.