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  1. Islands, Castles, and Wine

    Tuesday, August 11, 2009

    Last month, after a year away from my heart's true home, I returned to the 1000 Islands in Northern NY. Yet again, it was a quick and dirty trip that should have been for more than just an extended weekend. Unfortunately, I haven't earned enough vacation time from work to give the St. Lawrence River a suitable chunk of my time. Regardless, US Airways got me to Syracuse in record time; a remarkable feat, considering I connected via Philadelphia, which is rated one of 2009's Top 5 Worst Airports in America. Ange was there to pick me up, and we stayed overnight in Syracuse before heading north up 81 in the morning.

    Day 1
    As per tradition, Ange and I motored up the great 81 North to Alexandria Bay, where we met up with Aunt Charlotte. As I waited for her to out of the resort office to the front desk, I overheard her co-worker say, "You're right. She does look just like Kyra." Kyra is the 6-foot-tall, red-headed daughter of my Aunt, and she's about 6 years younger than me. Perhaps the Fountain of Youth water IS working...I'll take that statement as a sign that Kyra looks older than me, which is why I look like her! Aunt Charlotte treated us ladies to a lovely lunch overlooking the main channel and Boldt Castle at the Captain's Landing. My taco salad was bigger than my head, and barely looked as if I put a dent in it by the end of the meal. My tummy just ain't got room for a half of head of lettuce, regardless of how good it all tasted!

    After lunch, Ange and I poked around downtown while we waited for our friend Cheryl to meet us, along with her two boys. Once they arrived, we tried to catch up while leading the boys on an exploration of downtown. We checked out the boats, the fish, the docks, the puddles (oh yes, the oh-so-splashable puddles), the oversized chess board, and the shops. All of this was fueled by a generous dose of ice cream (mmmmmm! ice cream!!) from the Lil' River Fudge Co. I had the vanilla oatmeal cookie ice cream, and damn, was it delicious. The fudge from there is fantastic, as well, especially the Butterfinger chocolate fudge. So. Good.

    Late in the afternoon, Ange and I finally headed over to base camp -- Auntie C's homestead in Fishers Landing. We stopped into Uncle Ron's wood boat restoration shop to let him know the estrogen had arrived for the weekend, then we headed inside to settle in for the weekend. Aunt Charlotte followed shortly behind with a feast for dinner. Wine, of course, for happy hour. Then, for dinner: fettuchine alfredo and baked zucchini, cut length-wise and topped with herbs, shrimp, and feta cheese. Phenomenal. Seriously tasty stuff, and more of it than we could eat in one sitting. The four of us chatted until exhaustion, then headed to bed sated and happy.

    Day 2
    As much as I want to sleep in on vacation, it never seems to happen. I should be used to it by now, as I have always been the first to rise, even after a late night out on the town. 8:30 is my natural wake-up setting, unless perhaps the room is blacked out. At least on vacation, my mornings can be leisurely and as pokey as I want. Around 10, Ange and I headed over to Clear Lake where Cheryl and her family rented a camp. When we arrived, her two boys were in fishing mode, and the rest of us were waiting to see if rain would appear. It seemed safe to head out on the boat to tour around the lake. Cheryl's parents, Cheryl, her two boys (Chase and Cy), Ange, and I piled into the powerboat and took off for the other side. We saw a HUGE turtle, and it nearly hit the boat. Then, it started to rain. We blasted back to the dock, and I felt every pin drop of rain as it zinged into my face on the way back. At least it was warm out.

    We had lunch at camp with Cheryl's family, and I rough and tumbled with Chase for a bit. Those boys are ALL energy, all the time. Shocking, I know. After lunch, Ange and I headed back to Alex Bay to catch our 2:00 Uncle Sam Boat Tour to Singer Castle on Dark Island. I've done the Boldt Castle tour several times over recent years, and this was one tour I had yet to do. The castle just opened to tours in the last 5 or 6 years. Plus, it required a 2 hour boat ride out there, which I love. I just crave time out on the actual River when I am up there, and this was a great, relaxing way to do that. The weather cleared, too, in just enough time for the tour. It was gorgeous the whole rest of the afternoon.

    On our way downriver to the castle, we saw a saltie (a container ship that plies both the freshwater of the Great Lakes Waterway and the open ocean):



    And on our way upriver, after touring the castle, we saw a laker (a container ship that only transits the freshwater of the Great Lakes Waterway):



    Singer Castle gives off quite the grand impression as you approach it:


    Five floors. 30 rooms. A grass tennis court. And enclosed squash court. A mega boathouse. And Singer called it a hunting shack. Right. What the hell is my 500 square foot apartment, then? A freaking hovel, is what! While the interior was impressive -- rooms with beautiful views and cross-breezes -- I was more enamored with the garden.

    REAL GRASS!
    I salivate over REAL GRASS. Here in Florida, the grass is crap -- it looks like crab grass. It is course and itchy; and it's a veritable minefield filled with fire ants. I am either loved or hated by fire ants. When they attack me, I swell to amazing proportions. And it hurts! And I become whiny (just like I am now). And then the bites start to weep and ooze. It's not pretty. And now, I am afraid of grass. I had to mentally check myself while at the River to myself that the grass was lovely, soft, and safe. Oh, my tootsies LOVED to cool, soft grass. You really DON'T know what you have until it is gone. For serious. Mmmm, real grass. I'm having a moment here...

    Moment over...and back to the show. Singer Castle. Yes, it was a lovely display of wealth. You can stay overnight in the Royal Suite, which sleeps 6, not including the "friendly" ghosts that haunt the place. Oh, there are stories, and I would rather not hear them. Ghost stories FREAK. ME. OUT. Don't know why, but they just make me feel icky. Let's focus on the pretty, instead:






    Refreshing views from a hunting shack, right? Well, the tour hustles you through the house and grounds in about 45 minutes before shuttling you back onto the boat, so catch it while you can! We reached Alex Bay around 5:30 or so, stopped into say Hey to our hostess, Auntie C., then motored back to Fishers Landing for happy hour on the porch.

    For the second year in a row, Ange brought the game meat for our dinnertime enjoyment. This night: baked trout with lemon garlic marinade and fresh rosemary and thyme. On the side, leftovers from the night before, and my God, it was delicious. Dessert was some cookies bought from Gals on Route 12. Again, we went to bed fat and happy, ready for another day of vacation.

    Day 3
    This is about when full vacation mode kicks in -- you're feeling relaxed, happy, and on the way to recharged. Again, I was up around 8:30 because I don't know any other way. After a lazy start, Ange and I decided to meet up with Cheryl (sans sons) for breakfast in Alex Bay at The Dancing Dog. Who knew a bar could do double duty as a breakfast joint. The grilled cinnamon roll was all the convincing I needed!! Over a huge breakfast, we caught up on girl talk and lamented our lack of more opportunities to get together. I'm still working on teleportation...

    After breakfast, Ange and I made our way towards Clayton for some shopping and touring about town. We stopped at all the usual shops, and picked up some kick ass cheese from River Rat Cheese. Bacon Horseradish Cheddar Cheese, anyone?!? Oh, HELLOOO!! Needless to say, that was gone in a blink of an eye when we busted it out with the crackers before dinner.

    Before checking out of Clayton, Ange and I hit up the brand spanking new winery -- Coyote Moon. New fact: Ange likes the fruitiest freakin' wine out there. I mean FRUITY. I learned that I like it dry, dry, dry and out of the oakey barrel. I bought two bottles of the Chardonnay, thinking I would take one home (in my temporary amnesia about the TSA regulations for liquids on board airplanes). The extra bottle stayed behind, but I know it was well loved by Auntie C.

    As with any great vacation, Ange and I got tired from our midday excursion, and we came back to read, relax, and nap. This evening's dinner would be spent over on the island where Uncle Ron's parents have a cottage. We grilled up Ange's venison kielbasa and ate the living daylights out of the bacon horseradish cheese. We also drained the Coyote Moon chardonnay. I call that responsible drinking. It is our responsibility to leave no drop behind in the bottle or at the bottom of the glass!! Dessert was the lovely view:



    A little gray, but lovely nonetheless. The top photo is the view of Fineview over on Wellesley Island, and the pale green boathouse in the center is the house my family and I stayed at last year. The bottom photo is of the main channel, and the channel marker has a small shrub growing on it. All it needs is a rock and another piece of vegetation and it technically could qualify as an island. Island number 1,801 coming right up!!

    Day 4
    Poop. I must head home. The start south down 81 is always a freaking bummer. I get so sad!! At least this year, I did have lunch with a very dear old friend of mine to look forward to!! I haven't seen Steph in 3 or 4 years (I lost count), and I swear it didn't seem like that was the case either before or after my visit with her. I have known her since I was 3, and we always manage to pick right up where we left off the last time we spoke. It is amazing to have such friends in this world. Ridiculously, I neglected to a photo of the two of us together. Who knows when we might see each other again!! Hopefully, next summer, although, Europe is on the docket for 2010.
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    Trip Tally:
    Number of Singer sewing machines in the castle: at least 6
    Number of cliffs jumped: 0 (Goal is to jump 1 next time)
    Number of bottles of wine kicked: um...3, 4...5?
    Number of times it rained: at least once a day

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