We left Westport about 7am. Immediately, we started climbing the hills out of town. In the cool of the morning, the animals were active. We spotted deer, turkeys and a huge porcupine.The morning fog was still in place and the traffic was light.  Rob and I were hoping to get some breakfast in Essex but everything was closed. The ferry was running and the cars were unloading as we rolled past. We pumped the pedals on to the Willsboro Diner. “More Than A Diner,” as the t-shirt said. Actually it was just a diner, as Rob said, but the bacon and eggs hit the spot.

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  After breakfast, we climbed some more. On NY 20, the road had some heavy truck traffic but overall, the traffic became lighter the further we rode north. We stopped at the North Country Creamery, which had a self-serve store. The cold refreshments were a godsend. It was getting hot. We made peanut and jelly sandwiches at the falls at Ausable Chasm and checked out the ticket center, refreshment stand, gift shop, and bathroom complex. We looked down the gorge but didn’t spring for one of the exploratory packages, having done it before.

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  Next, we headed toward Plattsburgh down Route 9. As we approached the Ausable River, we saw the “Bridge Out" sign. We continued on to investigate. The men working on the bridge weren’t going to let us cross. The two DOT cars with separate safety guys sitting in the two cars probably didn’t help. The bridge workers said the river was too deep to ford. The canoe place next to the bridge was closed. Out of options, we rode back to the Chasm and found a workaround using the Googler. On the way back, we ran into two other bicyclists and informed them the bridge was out. These guys were riding from Philadelphia to Montreal in three days. Approximately 150 miles a day. They were hoping to make Montreal by night, the young psychos.

  Rob and I made it back to the lakefront, stopping at a Stewarts. Next door was another hotdog joint, quite the delicacy in the North Country. The last ten miles of every day seemed the longest. The EST put us on a bike path into Plattsburgh. We stopped at a beachfront park and I jumped in the lake. It was glorious. Then we rode into downtown Plattsburgh, past what I assume was once an officer college. Rob and I opted to push down Route 3 toward our hotel, the Fairmont Inn. Route 3 quickly changed into a suburban hellscape with every chain restaurant and chain hotel lined up on the road. With so much Americana, there wasn’t any room for bicycles. We opted to ride on the sidewalk, for safety reasons. No one was using the sidewalk since everyone was in their cars, zooming past us. Of course, the Fairmont was the last hotel on the strip. We ate at the Butcher Block. Despite what the locals say, we can’t  recommend it.