I was woken up at 8.00 promptly by the coffee, delivered to my door. One of the nicer touches of the St Andre, where I'd been staying in Montreal. I guess I'd recommend it ... with reservations. If it hadn't been for the syringe episode, I would have spoken highly of it. After packing, it was time to say goodbye to Montreal.

I was on the road by ten thirty, but made very slow progress. To start with, I was stuck in a traffic jam on Pont Champlain for nearly an hour. Although it was supposed to be cooler today, it still felt horribly muggy, and since my fuel gauge read as being empty, I was scared to use my air-conditioning, and was anxious not to run out of gas on the bridge.

Oi veh, I hesitate writing about the ensuing, embarrassing episode. Okay. I finally found a gas station in a tiny town called Dison, just a little way down Autoroute 15. I filled the tank and then went into the store to get the key to the restroom. When I went to return the key, I realized to my horror that I'd locked the car keys in the car. Anyone who knows me well will know that the loss of keys is something of a recurring theme in my life, unfortunately. I managed to explain to the two young girls in the store what had happened, and they summoned a towing truck. Half an hour later, the guy arrived, jimmied the lock, and, since he only charged me $35.00 (Canadian), I thought I'd gotten off fairly lightly.

By this time, I needed to go to the toilet again, so got the key off the girls again. Finally, all was done, and I was ready to get going South to New York State. But as I was pulling out of the gas station lot, I realized I still had the keys to the toilet. Shamefacedly, I returned, and handed them back, saying "Normalement, je ne suis comme ca." Their laughter told me that at least they'd understood my french when I'd attempted to say that normally I'm not like this!

Ten minutes later, cruising down the highway, I panic, as I can't find my wallet. Cursing myself, I think I've left it in the bathroom, so I screech off the nearest exit, and speed at close to 100 mph back to Dison. Popping my head in the door of the gas station store, I say "C'est moi!" I ask for the keys to the toilet - no wallet. I go to the girls and ask if anyone else has used the toilet since me. The answer is no. Perplexed, I return to my car, memory fresh of the time ten years earlier when I'd left my wallet with $400 in it in a toilet in Montpelier, Vermont, never to see it again. I open the arm-rest of the front seat, on a whim, and there is my wallet! Really - I'm not usually like this! :)

So now it's 12.45, and I'm about ten miles from Montreal, which I left at 10.30! To make up for it, I decide to speed for the rest of the day.

My next stop, apart from the grilling from a Nazi at the border, is Ausable Chasm, a natural gorge about ten miles off I87. Not too many people there, thankfully, but the few there were seemed all to be noisy, yelling kids. It was a striking place, though. The rock formations gave off a sense of brooding power in their shoulders.

The Chasm

After leaving the chasm, I started to ruminate on where to spend the night. I hadn't decided whether or not I wanted to make the 60 mile there-and-back sidetrip to Lake Placid or not. I'm so glad that I finally decided to take it. The drive there, for one thing, was beautiful. The green-grey Adirondack mountains began to range up out of the lakes and fields, while enormous, tortured cloudscapes bubbled up at their peaks. Along the road, for much of the trip, various books babbled.

Lake Placid has a spectacular setting, surrounded by some of the highest peaks in the Adirondacks, many of them over 4,000 feet. The town is set directly on one shore of Mirror Lake. I spent much of the afternoon just walking around exploring, and taking photographs. By this time, the haze and much of the humidity had gone, although it was still very warm, and the sky was incredibly beautiful. And was there a fantastic sunset - oh my God, yes!

Self Portrait

Mirror Lake in Lake Placid

Do you ever, like me, allow yourself to dream, when you're in the midst of your normal, every-work-day life of getting away somewhere, perhaps having a quiet meal just a few feet from a smooth, dark lake right after dusk, with the mountains sloping right down to the edge of the lake, and two or three lights from the opposite shore reflecting across the water?

A wonderful dinner at Laliberte, on Mirror Lake