

Our hotel room had a balcony overlooking Mirror Lake, a stunning view all day long. At night the water was very still making dramatic reflections on the water which was very nice for us when we sat out there drinking wine, chatting, and blowing bubbles. Yes, bubbles. We’re old but we’re still young at heart and I think that surprised the guys on the balcony next to us. But we seem to be too old to go out and party.
The weather was nearly perfect although if you change “dog” to “Anne” and “he” to “she” in this quote from Wet Dog! by Elise Broach and David Catrow you’ll have an idea how I felt at least part of the time “He was a good old dog and a hot old dog, as he lay in the noonday sun. As he dozed and he drowsed in the beating-down sun, with his long pink tongue hanging out.
“Well, that too-hot dog in the too-hot sun just had to cool off some how. So he heaved to his feet, and he sniffed the air, and he trotted off down the road…..Pat-a-pat, pat-a-pat, pat.”
That book was in my head throughout the weekend as the books I read to Sam tend to do, this more than usual because of the rhythmic nature of the narrative. And just perhaps a few quotes, accurate or not, will appear elsewhere in this post.
We tried the hotel-supplied paddle boats and found they were noisy and uncomfortable. Of course when we got back we found that the seats were adjustable so we could have eliminated at least one of those characteristics. The “white sand beach” was brought to Mirror Lake via dump truck but the lake was too cold (the “whooo-cool, too-cool water”) for swimming so we checked out the “heated indoor pool.” And they weren’t kidding, it was heated. Hot in fact. We jumped in the hot tub to cool off and I’m not even exaggerating! We decided to forgo the eating pleasures of the hotel restaurant Goldberries (aka Dingleberries) for some local restaurants. Breakfast was the key to the entire day.

Of course Lake Placid is the home of not one but TWO winter Olympics and we had to make sure that we partook in at least a bit of Olympic glory. We checked out all the skating rinks while

In honor of Kerry’s last trip to Lake Placid, we had to go play pirate adventure mini golf and have a “swashbuckling good time!” We labeled it “adventure-free” golf a few holes in; whatever happened to mini golf with moving obstacles and hidden holes? It wasn’t even shabby like all mini-golf places should be. The most exiting hole was in a fake cove and that was mainly because I could splash Kerry without getting a dirty look from the management.


All in all a nice little respite from the everyday routine. Sam and Ben survived nicely without me so maybe I should have stayed a few more days.
Of course I need to leave you with a little more Wet Dog so here you go.
“Wet dog smiled his sorry-dog smile and wagged his sorry-dog tail. Then he flapped his ears, and he sniffed the air, and he trotted off down the road...pat-a-pat, pat-a-pat, pat."
4 comments:
Hey! No fair! MY vacation spot in upstate New York wasn't overrun with hunky 20 year olds this past weekend!
And now I know what people do in Lake Placid (besides see the Grateful Dead, which is my only experience with the place...). Thanks for the story!
Sorry your mini-golf experience wasn't goonier.
By the way, I don't mind typing "djmqqkn" but it is NOT a "word"!
Unfortunately, Anne, most of the guys training for the Ironman are in their 30s and 40s and even 50s. Does that make us look like beached whales even more?
Kerry, I don't want to think about that!
And Beth gbczw isn't a word either but I'm happily typing it.
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