Ch-ch-ch-changing… End of Summer and on the road

We spent the summer on and around Keuka Lake doing our favorite things: swimming, kayaking, relaxing on the dock, picking blueberries at Bedient Farm, eating fresh-picked corn.

I swear this corn is 10 feet tall.

I swear this corn is 10 feet tall.

This year we added biking, including several  44-mile round-the-lake trips.

The red line shows our route around the lake with extra rides back and forth on West Lake Road.

The red line shows our route around the lake with extra rides back and forth on West Lake Road.

This is our favorite route on a sunny, not-too-hot day: 7 miles down West Lake Road for an almond croissant at the Artisan Bakery in Hammondsport, the Coolest Small Town in America.

Then 15 miles up and around the east side of the lake for a Rachel sandwich and a craft beer at The Olney Place (the convenience store/deli/pub/souvenir t-shirt/everything shop)…

Best sandwiches on the Keuka Lake.

Best sandwiches on Keuka Lake.

Another 10 or so miles for a Seneca Farms ice cream just outside Penn Yan.

Then the 12-mile home stretch across the top of the Y and down the west side of the lake. Jump in the lake, bike clothes and all.

When we left on September 2 for the Cape, Keuka Lake was still over 70 degrees. But now the long hot days of summer are over.

Jimmy Durante sang it best:

It’s a long, long way

From May to December

But the days grow short

When you reach September

As we started on the next leg of our journey, heading west in mid-September, Keuka Lake was 62—and Michael still went for a swim. The lake was peaceful, more seagulls than sailboats. Summer is over. We’re smelling the grapes, ready for harvest. The corn is withering on the vine and the glorious fall colors have arrived.

Knee-high by the Fourth, now on it's last legs

Knee-high by the Fourth, now on its last legs

Is this maple?

Is this maple?

Maybe this one?

Could this be maple?

Or this?

Or this?

We could try to get all philosophical and talk about the major changes we’re going through as we make this next transition for our eight months on the road, but they don’t seem all that major. We’re just marching along, or perhaps meandering is a better term. The leaves, they are a-turning and the days are getting shorter.

The last day before leaving is always the hardest.

The last day before leaving the lake is always the hardest.

 

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