Niagara Falls by day, part 1

Walking along the Niagara River in Niagara Falls State Park, I wasn't sure quite what to expect. I'd always wanted to go to the Falls, but my visual had been somewhat skewed for years. I do this, sometimes; I conjure up an image in my mind that is undoubtedly inaccurate, and not necessarily for better or worse, just different. Josh had been years ago, but was having a difficult time actually remembering what they looked like. This is what happens. The mind, whether it knows something or not, has a silly little way of playing tricks on you.

We had arrived to the American state park around 10:30 in the morning, still nervous that there might be a potential thunderstorm brewing, but nonetheless, we forged ahead.

A brief history: The falls are divided into two sections that straddle the American/Canadian border. They were formed at the tail end of the last ice age, Wisconsin glaciation, when glaciers receded, forming the gorge. Water from the newly-fashioned Great Lakes (i.e., Erie and Ontario) carved a path through an area known as the Niagara Escarpment on its way to the Atlantic Ocean. Though the falls are not the highest in the world, they are exceptionally wide. The American Falls and Bridal Veil Falls (separated only by Luna Island) face Canada from New York's international border. The Canadian Falls, or Horseshoe Falls (appropriately named), are separated from American territory by Goat Island. It is reported that nearly six million cubic feet of water comes crashing down from the crest of the falls every minute. But I digress.

We wandered down the promenade, and to our left the American Falls suddenly appeared. The American Falls are intimidating in an unusual way; they aren't that impressive as far as the beauty of waterfalls goes, but the monstrous rocks that are strewn about at the base of the falls leaves you with a mildly uneasy feeling--like it would be a bad situation to go over that particular set of falls. Not to mention that the intensity of a landslide, or erosion, occurring on a yearly basis is somewhat astronomical in its own right. I was intrigued to say the least. Josh already had his tripod set up and was instructing me how and where to pose. The spray tickled our noses, and we saw the impressive Canadian side from the walkway. We walked around for an hour or so, enjoyed the major attractions (Maid of the Mist and Cave of the Wind, where, I withstood the power of the waterfall from Hurricane Deck), and were mostly thankful that it hadn't rained.

It was a pretty magnificent site. I could only hope that once we got to Canada to see the full horseshoe, that we would be even more impressed; speechless, or at the very least, in awe of Mother Nature.

KOA is A-OK

(The title of my post will most likely amuse only those in the profession of words, i.e., editors, linguists, and English teachers/professors.)

We stayed at the Niagara Falls KOA for our pseudo-camping trip and fell in love with our cozy little cabin. A good friend of mine introduced me to the organization of campgrounds, and I couldn't wait to secure my own little cabin. Not to mention, I now have my very own KOA Rewards Card, which I plan to reap the benefits of on many more camping trips.

By the time we reached our local KOA, it was almost 7 o'clock at night, and it had been pouring rain for too many hours. We were tired, hungry, beat up, and wanted nothing more than to sit down and relax. Odd, I know, that we would want to sit after being cooped up in an SUV for nearly 10 hours, but that's a different kind of sitting--really.

As Josh drove over to 798, I instantly fell in love. Not only was our cabin simple and sweet, but it had its very own porch swing. Josh and I quickly unloaded the car, placing our belongings carefully in the tidy little abode, and retired to the porch for the evening. We sat, sheltered from the rain and thunder, not doing much of anything.

We ended up looking forward to returning to the cabin each night. It was just so peaceful, and perfect.

Cobleskill's secret

If roadside America weren't enough to quench my thirst for good old-fashioned fun, I was surely content when we found a natural wonder slightly off the beaten path. Not too far from Route 20 we ventured into the small town of Cobleskill. Above ground, it fits the stereotyped rural town, lacking evidence of any booming industry.

Below ground, however, is where the fun begins. Josh and I found ourselves descending 103 steps into a natural cave 115 feet below the Earth's surface. Wow! As we strolled along the 1/4-mile pathway through the cave, we were able to see fossils of marine life from a lake that existed once upon a time, the natural erosion of classified rocks (including limestone, some of which, due to water seeping in from the Earth's surface above, formed a convincingly slimy but honestly smooth surface of calcite), and plenty of stalagmites and stalactites.

Squeezing through narrow passageways and hovering low for a few suspended ceilings, we became instant fans of spelunking (exploring a cave with only a flashlight). The real treat came at the end of our hike when we found ourselves standing, mouths agape at a 100-foot waterfall plummeting down from the Earth's surface into this cave, and meeting up with an underground river that led to yet another cave down the road, with more force than a speedboat with unrelenting horsepower.

I was so excited about this secret find; imagine my reaction once we reached Niagara Falls.

Roadside treasures

Though we did experience extreme precipitation, I wanted to take a minute to describe the beauty of upstate New York; unlike its counterpart to the south, upstate New York is filled with vast fields and amazingly well-kept farms. I'm sure I have never seen so many silos in a 100-meter radius. Even in the fog, pouring rain, and menacing clouds, the rolling hills and grassy meadows were a refreshing sight. I was thrilled at the amount of cows, horses, sheep, and buffalo we saw as we trolled along the Oregon Trail--I felt a very mild kinship to Lewis and Clark.

Other than natural beauty, the roadside offered a glimpse of old small-town America--something I find myself increasingly attracted to--and its many treasures. We stumbled upon The TePee in Cherry Valley, which has been attracting travelers since the early 1950s. In it: amazing Indian crafts, quirky gadgets, and delicious Indian taffy.

If you ever find yourself in the area and want to take a look around the family-run TePee, make sure you try the "hot shot." It's a real zinger!

Rainy roadtrip

After trekking around France for two weeks this past spring without a notebook or a laptop, I have come to realize that I must document any and all excursions that I embark on. So, since we planned a trip for this holiday weekend, I figured it'd be a great place to start.

We left for Niagara Falls around 8 o'clock this morning, spending most of our journey below pelting raindrops (note the photo over the Hudson River bridge) and the darkest storm clouds I have ever seen. Now, I know the Hudson Valley and Adirondacks are well known for their impeccable sunsets, and gorgeously pink and purple skies, but I'd like it known that they, too, have black skies, and they are not cool.


We did manage, however, to get a bit off the beaten path (I-90); we explored a 3-hour section of the Oregon Trail (Rte. 20 in upstate New York, if you're interested). My next post will highlight my two favorite stops. For now, just know that we arrived safely to Grand Island.