An early night meant an early start, after a stop at Dunkin’ we set off for a hike through Watkins Glen State Park’s gorge trail. The recent spell of rain caused the waterfalls to roar, the light rain bouncing off the rocks made for an unforgettable site. I imagine it’s how GoT’s Iron Islands would look, maybe. It’s about a 4 mile trek, passing a dozen or so waterfalls, with stone bridges crisscrossing over the stream, there’s even a lover’s lane should you be so inclined. We got there early and it was reasonably quiet, but tourists started to build up on our way out so an early day hike might be the way to go. It was definitely one of the highlights of the trip.
With a five and a half hour drive ahead of us we hit the road, destination Grafton, VT. It was an uneventful drive for the most part, we rescued a turtle from the freeway, stopped at a covered bridge or two, and a late lunch and a beer at Ommegang Brewery. We were too close not to stop, and as fans of reality television at least for one of us, we swung by Sharon Springs, home of the Beekman Boys. A quick stop at the store and a $15 goats milk bar of soap later we were back on our way to Grafton.
Grafton is a one street village, it has a post office, an Inn, a church, a convenience store (with excellent fresh baked goods, btw), an elementary school and a cheese maker. If I missed anything it’s because it was hidden among the trees. Our cabin, the Owls Nest, is a quirky one bedroom house with a compost toilet, a stream trickling down one side of the house and a lavender garden on the other, is a leisurely fifteen minute walk from the town. It couldn’t have been more remote, it couldn’t have been more perfect, even if we did have to pump the toilet each morning.
We arrived later than we expected due to the weather, but we unpacked and headed out to the nearest place to grab food, a Scottish pub down an eight mile semi-dirt road to the town of Chester. When in the middle of nowhere we learned very quickly not to trust hours of operation from the likes of Yelp, as places close early or they don’t open at all. We arrived at MacLaomainn’s Scottish Pub shortly after 9pm and the kitchen was closed, but the bartender having seen the defeated look on our faces, and horrified at the thought of us going to McD’s (the closest place to us that was open) kindly made us a plate of nachos, with bacon. She offered it with a “it’s all I can do” look on her face, but it’s all we wanted, we tipped well and we went back the following night.