Yesterday, we thought to check on the baby eagles, before they fly the proverbial coop for good (May entries, "Watching The Wheels - Parts I, II, III"). So, for a very sociable hour on a gloomy day, we joined others to observe the not-so-little-anymore birds flap their wings, moving from nest to branch and back again, as they practiced the earliest stages of flying. A cloudy sky offered poor lighting for photos; however, I gave it a literal shot, with good enough results to make a point.
After leaving the fledglings behind, we spotted this errant bird. I detest seeing edible critters. Maybe I'll forget her by Turkey Day - maybe 100% vegan is the way to go?
On to some hidden treasures in the higher Catskills... but not before lunch. Our last eagle day uncovered a little gem of a place called Russ's Country Kitchen. Trust me when I say that it's in the middle of nowhere. When we walked in last month, we were welcomed by the owner and his friendly staff. "What do you feel like today? Do you need menus? Russ just took a pork roast out of the oven; interested?" You get the gist. Joe had pork roast; I had an egg-white omelette. We made a memory. Soooooooo, we sought out the same place for what would now be a four o'clock lunch; we were hungry. It was in between mealtimes and the place was not busy. Russ's replacement chef was relaxing at a table, from where he suggested that we not even look at the menu; he wanted to "... cook for us."
He talked Joe into pasta and white clam sauce. He kept pushing "real food" on me."How about shrimp marinara?" I am a very finicky person, when it comes to my Italian soul food. My haughty self thought, "Decent Italian food, here?" I did consent, though; he was so anxious to please. He retreated to his kitchen, from where we heard lots of pounding. Garlicky aromas were wafting to our table. We were drinking delicious coffee during the half-hour wait. "You wait for good food... it doesn't wait for you!" - a mantra my kids grew up on. We were cracking up with laughter, 'cause we realized that lunch had become dinner, in somewhat of an early-bird special. Ah, senior citizenship, for sure. The food was delish... and not to forget the complimentary ribs sent to our table, hot and fresh from the smoker... Joe was happy and wants all to know, "... there were 18 clams in that bowl!" BIG smile. We really enjoyed Chef George and Waitress Brianna; we'll be back. You can always trust a blue-eyed Yankee fan.
We traveled through the little one-horse, one-train town of Arkville. How about a ride into the deep mountains? How enterprising and beautiful, all at the same time. Please left double-click photo to see party options.
Fleischmanns and Margaretville - it has been years since we've explored these towns. My late cousin used to own a neat old house in Fleischmanns. He'd be amazed to see the restoration of so many treasures. Mambo loved the park, where he met a new Chocolate Lab friend. Playtime. More chat, for us. Joe said, "People sure like to talk, don't they?" I responded, "Ha; you are no slouch!" It's true.
Margaretville was hustling and bustling. "Very pretty," we commented to a local. "Yeah," responded he, "it's pretty, unless you live here. We watch grass grow for excitement." These towns are being resurrected by wealthy investors who, on weekends, feel the need to escape big city jungle-time and replace it with the laid back variety found here. Locals exude a palpable tad of resentment; they do not possess choice. It sure works for us, though. It's awesome to see rebirth.
We traveled afar, finding ourselves a couple of hours from home. Another local directed us to a shortcut through the mountains, next to the Pepacton Reservoir. Nasty thunderstorms squelched my picture-taking, at this point. 'Tis a pity, as it's always incredible to witness the bodies of water that quench thirsts all the way to Manhattan.
Here's to wanderin'.
