Erie to Catskill at Last!

We found a WiFi location at MacDonalds:

Cheryl: We woke up this morning at 6:40 a.m. rather than our usual 5:30 a.m. so our day got off to a bit of a slow start. However, we were out on the highway cruising along by 8:45 a.m. Things went really, really well as we drove through lush hills covered with thick trees and crossed creeks, rivers, and lakes. This was a ride we were really enjoying until we hit a patch of very bumpy road. We decided that New York State has some of the smoothest and some of the worst roads in the whole U.S. We got “beat to death” over several stretches until we vowed to cross New York off our map right along with Oklahoma and Indiana. Anyway, we survived and then the real adventure began.

The GPS took us on a tour of the Catskill mountains’ back roads for at least a couple of hours. We were up, down, around terrific curves and blind “head walls.” You’ll know what that looks like if you’re a skier. Ok, so we finally drug into East Durham, which wasn’t on the map at all along with several roads we drove on to get there. We pulled into the Blackthorn Campground where there were Irish people and more Irish people all over the place, backing up, backing in, and strolling about in all directions on foot and in cars! It was a madhouse of blarney! It is also Irish Arts Week at the resort. Sigh. Ok, so we have nothing against the Irish, in fact, I have ancestors of that persuasion. However, when Frank came back to the car with instructions to drive around until he spotted a campsite with full hook ups and then grab it, I knew we were in trouble.

Eventually after a precarious backing up and turning around procedure, Frank had a heart to heart talk with the office manager. Subsequently he road around in a golf cart looking over the available spaces. None of the spaces proved to be anywhere we wanted to spend a whole week.

Down the road we went at 7:00 p.m. to find the Blue Mountain Campground where we’re checked in for the next two nights at least. The tall trees are wonderful, but the mosquitoes are as big as Howard Hughes, Spruce Goose airplane. We’ve been almost carried off to the big mosquito blood-letting station in the sky. Tomorrow we look around for better accommodations, and Frank’s brother’s place in Virginia is looking very appealing for an early arrival at this point.

Oh yes, and we have no WiFi so this will be posted a bit late, I’m afraid.

Love, Daniel Boon and the bewildered three