Judy and I divert from the route of the Erie Canal for a day trip to the Finger Lakes. I’m a bit disappointed on New York 414, the road to Watkins Glen. It’s all farm and no lake. Soon, the lakeshore dominates, with vineyards, hints of autumn leaves, and a small waterfall as we approach the southern tip of Seneca Lake. If you arrive on a weekday in off-season, the visitors center at Watkins Glen State Park is a pleasant place to step into natural wonder. A lot has changed since glaciers retreated 12,000 years ago. Water from Glen Creek, in a hanging valley above, has blasted through sedimentary layers, very soft shale and less soft sandstone, to create intimate slot canyons and waterfalls, all surrounded by an amphitheater of rock and forest above. The Gorge at Watkins Glen, which opened as a luxury resort in the Civil War era, was purchased by the State of New York in 1906. Beautiful stone steps along the 1.5 mile path are the work of the Civilian Conservation Corps. (Crews had to redo much of their work because of a spectacular flood in 1935.) We camped at Watkins Glen amid the red pines on Tuscarora loop, one of two loops still open. No reservation was necessary.
It’s a beautiful sunny morning at Watkins Glen, but the weather forecast for later this week calls for rain farther east, along the Mohawk River valley. We planned to rent bicycles there to tour an eastern section of the Erie Canal. Instead, we head south to the Corning Museum of Glass, encouraged by Joe and Michele, camp neighbors from Hilton Head Island, who raved about it. I won’t venture into art criticism, but I loved the contemporary works, several focused on global warming, a glassblowing demonstration featuring a whimsical potato with delicate sprouts, and ancient glass from Egypt, Mesopotamia and Greece.
Judy and I must take care of errands before leaving the Walmart in Elmira, New York. Judy buys books for grandnephews and I poach salmon in the parking lot. She hates the smell. At a laundry in downtown Elmira, I pause my housecleaning to show a couple with lots of questions about full-timing all the features of The Epic Van. Judy can’t miss a chance to promote, joining in. I’m convinced they’re not lookie-loos. We travel east on Interstate 86. Gold and yellow are everywhere in folds along tributaries of the Susquehanna River. As we wind along the east branch of the Delaware River, sheets of fall leaves stream down on The Epic Van. Hard rain pours in the Catskill Mountains as Judy and I roll into Tannersville, N.Y., at 5:30 p.m. We find a campsite at North-South Lake. We’re the only ones on the first loop. I’m too tired to cook. Time for a beer and a third, and final, round of chili for dinner. I think about our camp friends Keven and Georges. He cooks fresh every night! What a dynamo.
We took The Epic Van across the border for the first time, overnighting at Scott’s Family Campground in Niagara Falls. It’s a convenient gateway for Horseshoe Falls, about six miles away. Judy is a first-timer at the Falls; I’d seen it as a grade-schooler from the United States. We began our tour walking along the Niagara River Rapids, strolling past a shuttered Beaux-Arts hydropower building, relic of industrial glory. Approaching Niagara Falls from above is the best way to appreciate the concert of fresh water below. Regionally, Lake Erie, Ontario, Huron, Michigan and Superior hold about 20 percent of the world’s supply. At the brink of Horseshoe Falls, I get a twinge of motion sickness, staring at the Niagara River curling downward. Judy and I weren’t sure a boat tour to the base of the Falls would be worthwhile, but we grabbed our glorified red garbage bag and rode out to spray and foam, blotting out sunshine above. It was a good idea.
In the afternoon, we begin our tour of the Erie Canal at Commercial Slip, under Interstate 190 in Buffalo harbor. Completed in 1825, the 363-mile canal linked the Great Lakes region to New York City ports, creating a trade superhighway of agricultural and manufacturing goods. Hence the title, Empire State. As railroads eclipsed water transport in the early 20th century, Commercial Slip was filled and abused as Buffalo’s sewer line. Reclaimed for tourism in the 21st century, slip, warehouse and military museum are part of the Canalside district.
It’s another beautiful Walmart-and-yoga morning, this one in the Buffalo suburbs. The covered gazebo at Stiglmeier Park in Cheektowaga is perfect. Later, Judy and I grab raincoats and tour Lockport and the Flight of Five, a famous feat of engineering on the Erie Canal. The lock network, five eastbound and five westbound, neutralized the Niagara escarpment, allowing vessels to climb or descend 60 feet. West of the locks, workers blasted a channel with newfangled DuPont explosives to supply water from Lake Erie for the hydraulic system underneath the Flight of Five. Despite steady rain, tourists and locals enjoy a farmers market and local music under tents of vendors. We drive north for Lake Ontario and red sunset, and feel a bit of autumn for the first time at Lakeside Beach State Park.
I ask Judy if she wants to go to Seneca Falls. What’s there? I promptly take her to Women’s Rights National Historical Park. She knows the history, but not the place where the Women’s Rights Convention was held at a Wesleyan chapel on July 19-20, 1848. Inside the visitor center are statues of several women’s rights pioneers, including Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Lucretia Mott, and their chief supporter for equality, Frederick Douglass.
We take a guided tour of the reconstructed chapel (portions of bricks and plaster preserved) along with Debbie and Enku. Afterward, the four of us talk about the women’s rights movement and the path to realize the Declaration of Sentiments, that all men and women are created equal. Enku, an immigrant from Africa, points out that black men were given the right to vote generations before women, and that a black man, Barack Obama, was elected president while a woman has not. More than 70 years passed between the Women’s Rights Convention in Seneca Falls and the passage of the 19th amendment in 1920, giving women the right to vote. How many years will it be before a woman is elected president? We want to visit It’s a Wonderful Life Museum, but it’s closed. Instead, we take a consolation prize, looking around downtown Seneca Falls and a suspension bridge, said to be the inspiration for Frank Capra’s Bedford Falls. A plaque on the bridge honors Antonio Varacalli, a 20-year-old immigrant who jumped into a barge canal, rescuing a young woman attempting suicide. He lost his life saving another.