It was a warm cloudless day so it was a good idea to get an early start and get the hard climbing part done early. Climbed steady for the first three hours but it was not hot until noon. About then I passed through
Chateaugay which dates from 1795. French name but very American town. Even if "Old Glory" was not flying out front of the town hall you would know "you are not in Canada any more Dorothy". The architectural details are the give away. The town hall has a very colonial look to it.
Chateaugay has the largest array of wind generators I have seen so far on the trip. East of here you begin to follow the Great
Chazy river downstream to the East and the going gets way easier.
After following the river for a while I came to this sign. I immediately stopped and put in both hearing aids and listened carefully. Not a single moo. Not even a faint one. Then I realized the problem. This town was founded over two hundred years ago and no doubt the name had been corrupted over time. It was originally Moors, as in "Othello the Moor of Venice". Moors like who were kicked out of Spain. With this thought firmly in mind I kept a sharp look out as I passed through town and before long
spotted a pair of probable Moors. They were unloading a van behind a convenience store. I have heard the language of the Moors spoken in the teeming
medinas of
Tangiers and Rabat and would recognize it immediately if they were speaking Moorish. I pretended to be absorbed by my map and casually edged closer to hear what they were saying. Once I got close enough I was
disappointed to hear them speaking American English. "You want
somethin" guy" one of them said. I stuck with my map reading cover and asked them if they were from around here and if they had been here long and did they know the way out of town. "Yeah we been here a long time. We are from
Gonisatagway(or something like that)and the road you are standing is the way our of town." Then I noticed they were unloading cases of cigarettes. Suddenly the pieces fell into place. They were not Moors at all. That was just a ruse to throw people off. They were Mohawks bringing in cheap cigarettes to sell to
Quebecers. I scuttled around the corner and pedalled out of there before anything unpleasant could happen.
Here's the bridge across from New York to Vermont at Rouses Point. Big marina here with tons of deluxe boats. The
enonomy of this area is highly tourist and recreation oriented. A far cry from the U.P. I
just paid triple for a room here compared to what I would have paid there. I didn't want to stay in a motel because the weather is quite nice. I was given a bum steer by the Tourist booth about a campground so ended up having to stay in a "cheap" motel. I was lucky to get anything because it is the July 4
th long weekend. Good conditions today and did the most so far in one day. Over 140
kms.
It was a warm cloudless day so it was a good idea to get an early start and get the hard climbing part done early. Climbed steady for the first three hours but it was not hot until noon. About then I passed through Chateaugay which dates from 1795. French name but very American town. Even if "Old Glory" was not flying out front of the town hall you would know "you are not in Canada any more Dorothy". The architectural details are the give away. The town hall has a very colonial look to it. Chateaugay has the largest array of wind generators I have seen so far on the trip. East of here you begin to follow the Great Chazy river downstream to the East and the going gets way easier. 
After following the river for a while I came to this sign. I immediately stopped and put in both hearing aids and listened carefully. Not a single moo. Not even a faint one. Then I realized the problem. This town was founded over two hundred years ago and no doubt the name had been corrupted over time. It was originally Moors, as in "Othello the Moor of Venice". Moors like who were kicked out of Spain. With this thought firmly in mind I kept a sharp look out as I passed through town and before long spotted a pair of probable Moors. They were unloading a van behind a convenience store. I have heard the language of the Moors spoken in the teeming medinas of Tangiers and Rabat and would recognize it immediately if they were speaking Moorish. I pretended to be absorbed by my map and casually edged closer to hear what they were saying. Once I got close enough I was disappointed to hear them speaking American English. "You want somethin" guy" one of them said. I stuck with my map reading cover and asked them if they were from around here and if they had been here long and did they know the way out of town. "Yeah we been here a long time. We are from Gonisatagway(or something like that)and the road you are standing is the way our of town." Then I noticed they were unloading cases of cigarettes. Suddenly the pieces fell into place. They were not Moors at all. That was just a ruse to throw people off. They were Mohawks bringing in cheap cigarettes to sell to Quebecers. I scuttled around the corner and pedalled out of there before anything unpleasant could happen. 
Here's the bridge across from New York to Vermont at Rouses Point. Big marina here with tons of deluxe boats. The enonomy of this area is highly tourist and recreation oriented. A far cry from the U.P. I just paid triple for a room here compared to what I would have paid there. I didn't want to stay in a motel because the weather is quite nice. I was given a bum steer by the Tourist booth about a campground so ended up having to stay in a "cheap" motel. I was lucky to get anything because it is the July 4th long weekend. Good conditions today and did the most so far in one day. Over 140 kms. 
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