Entering New England
When I met Jesus in the Adirondacks.
Leaving the Adirondacks was simplified like boiled down sugar; sweet and finally peaks on the East Coast. Nothing comparable to the Rockies, but truly definitely mountainous. A ferry from Plattsburgh to Vermont was speedy, cool from lake winds, and photolicious, and upon hitting ground on the VT side of Champlaigne, we could immediately tell we
We took the first left into Saranac, home of the similarly-named craft beer, and parked in the first on street parking space available. I exited the Bus as Lady began promptly releaving her boob from its blousy chamber to feed a ready-for-lunch baby who’d proved himself to be a dream traveler over this past week