Motorcycle diary
Scenic beauty in short form
By BRIAN WARREN “Hey,” I said to our group of five. “Let’s go
to the Finger Lakes district this year.” “Sounds great,” everyone said. “Let’s
choose which days and do it!” It was late spring and we were pumped up to
do another bike tour. Besides me, our group consists of Rick
Scissons, Paul Scissons, Kelly McMaster, and Mark Scissons. (I’ve been around the Scissons brothers long enough to practically be a Scissions. They call me their ugly stepsister.) Annie Ross and I had already planned to
take some time off, so I suggested we go to New York’s Finger Lakes Region. I thought it would be a good chance to scout out the area for the trip with the group, because when the time came we wouldn’t have a ton of time to be down there. So off Annie and I went. We crossed into
the States at Ogdensburg and jumped on the Seaway Trail. It’s a 454 mile highway that hugs the St. Lawrence River, Lake Ontario, Niagara River, and Lake Erie. It’s a beautiful and memorable drive that takes you through great little towns like Alexandria Bay, Clayton, Cape Vincent and Oswego. This is a trip by itself. But we were on a mission. Annie and I spent four days driving around
the area. I was truly impressed with its beauty, with the friendliness of the people and of course
18 BOUNDER MAGAZINE
with the great roads they have. It’s a biker’s dream. Back to our bike trip. Mark had to deal with
some personal issues and couldn’t go this year. Rick picked up a big contract and couldn’t get away because of deadlines. Kelly’s daughter, Sarah, was getting married in three weeks and things were just too hectic for her to go. So it looked like the trip was off, unless Paul
and I did the trip ourselves. Sunday was the day we decided to go. Paul
had a family gathering that day but figured he would be able to get away early. We finally met in Franktown at 4:30 pm. and hit the road...just as it started to rain. We crossed at Gananoque and jumped on
the Seaway Trail. The rain never did amount to much more than an annoyance. It would stop long enough for us to get wind-dried before it started spitting again. It was our plan to run to Oswego, figuring
that it would be easy to find a motel for the night there. (I had already cased it with Annie.) We spotted a liquor outlet shortly after
Sackets Harbour, and after a friendly chat with the owners, they suggested we go into Henderson Harbour, which was only 10 minutes down the road. Fearing a big downpour, and since it was not long before dark, we pulled in. Henderson Harbour is a beautiful village
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