Empire State Tour 2021 - Day 2 - Westport to Whitehall

 It was another tough day, shorter than yesterday, but with more climbing. 52 miles and 3200 feet of climb. Including an insane 13% grade up to the center of Port Henry, and many 8% grades on 9N during the first half of the day. Max didn't bat an eye at the 13% climb. I told him it was nearly as bad as Gun Road, which he is now willing to try. We ride down Gun Road all the time, but he's never gone up.

We are in better shape than yesterday, especially Max.

I've noticed there is a heirarchy of communication with Max the teenage boy, based on how tired he is, and how early in the morning he is.

1. Moaning

2. Non-linguistic utterances/grunting

3. Monosyllabic words (usually in response to a question, but often not responsive to the question)

4. Simple sentences (typically complaints about the conditions or physical ailments)

5. Snarky remarks about local inhabitants and setting (typically Trump-related)

6. Pleasant observations about scenery and wildlife

7. Discussion about future activities (often involving food)

He went through the full range this morning. It was hard to get him going. He didn't reach level 7 until lunch time.

Here is a farewell picture of our hotel in Westport.

The lady who runs it has two shops on the first floor. One is used books, and one is herbs and crystals and knick-knacks. We had a nice talk about gardening. She showed me some dried mugwort she has for sale and said it has medicinal properties. I told her I pull mugwort up from my garden by the fistful, it is a noxious invasive, and nearly impossible to eradicate because it spreads via underground rhizomes.

We saw six osprey nests today, all on utility poles. What could possibly go wrong? 

The ospreys seems happy, regardless. The ospreys brought Max up to level 6 of the communication hierarchy.

Lunch today was at "The Pub" in Ticonderoga. I forgot to take a picture. It had good food and was a nice place, despite the blue line "support the police" banner, and a restroom toilet paper holder made from an old revolver. 

Our Whitehall lodging is an AirBnB apartment over a tavern. I chose this because of the convenience of dinner in the tavern, even though it's pretty expensive.

And it turns out the tavern is closed, because it's Sunday. But the Internet did tell us there was a restaurant called Champs a short walk away, and obviously we had to go there to honor Joe Biden's German Shepherd dog Champ who died yesterday. Also, everywhere else was closed.

So we set forth walking to Champs, along the old canal in front of our AirBnb lodging.

We walk along, past a decaying marina and metal shed for storing boats. And we get to a run-down RV park, mostly vacant. It seems Champs is in the back of the RV Park.

Turns out Champs is named after Champie the Lake Champlain Sea Monster. Cousin to Chessie and the Loch Ness Monster. Nothing to do with Joe Biden's dog at all!

So we get in, and after a long, long wait, our server guy comes with menus and asks for our drink order. They have beer in bottles and cans, and wine. I order a local craft brew. The waiter, uncertainly, asks if I would like a glass with my beer.

Despite the spectacularly slow service, the food turns out to be really good. I think the lady who runs this place is making a valiant effort to make a nice restaurant against all odds. 

Here is the Strava track.