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lblanchard
It's our 25th anniversary today (July 28, the date in the entry title, not the date this was posted)! I wanted to lounge about a bit in the lovely motel room and read back issues of Successful Farming, thoughtfully provided by the management, so I sent Roy to have breakfast at the Red Rose Diner in Towanda, which he did (many photos on his Blackberry but I don't have any). Roy very kindly took his time, taking a few more pictures around Towanda, so I got the deliciously late start I'd been craving for several days.We drove south on Rt 220 from Towanda, through many lovely small towns, looking for signs of railroads past, especially in DuShore, where I also photographed St. Basil's Catholic church.
Pulling off 220 shortly before Rt 42, we drove up to Eagles Mere, a wonderful resort town built around a glacial mountain-top lake. Time has forgotten this wonderful spot that has lapsed into sleepiness and a homeowner-driven community after the demise of the large resort hotels in the mid 20th century. It lacks the kinds of things that would bring in the noisy folk -- few restaurants, no nightclubs, and precious few small town amenities such as drugstores, drycleaners, and gas stations. I don't think that jet skis or motorboats (other than the antiquated launch, the "Hardly Able") are permitted on the lake. In consequence, it has an exclusivity without being in any way exclusionary. 
The homeowner association owns the lake, which is private property in consequence, something we didn't realize until after we left. We inadvertently committed the gaffe of driving down a short fire lane to the lakeside, where we saw someone's private dock, as well as the "Laurel Path" that circumnavigates the entire lake, a distance of some three miles. The family dressed to go the private beach on the north side of the lake greeted us pleasantly as they came down the Laurel Path and very graciously didn't point out that we were trespassing. We visited the town's splendid little museum, apparently funded and supported by private contributions, and purchased some books in its museum shop. The lake's first permanent residents were the founder and employees of a glass factory, taking advantage of the pure white sand on the north side of the lake but inexplicably siting the glass factory on the south side. After the visit to the museum we drove around the lake (seeking the site of railroad station, of course). 
We had lunch at the general store, where our dining choice was limited to another interesting Northern Tier interpretation of a Philly sandwich, this time the hoagie. While we ate, we spent some time talking with the local realtor, a retired schoolteacher, who told us about year-around life in Eagles Mere. It's not bad in the winter, he says, the plows come through pretty regularly. They cope by having a big freezer and making monthly expeditions to Williamsport. After lunch we went to the bookstore.
When I walked in to the bookstore, the first thing I saw was a deluxe 32 volume edition of the works of Rudyard Kipling for $350. I dithered for the minimum amount of time necessary to salve my conscience, and then bought it. This is not as impulsive as it seems -- I had been thinking about seeking out a complete set for some time (my set was complete in 1917 when it was published, but Kipling had two fairly productive decades after that), and this one is particularly elegant, with gold stamping, sturdy board, and laid paper with deckle edges. One volume shows sun-fading; the rest are as close to mint condition as one could want in a 70-year-old set of books. Its previous owner apparently only opened the volumes to affix his book plate, and some pages remain to be slit open. After that excitement, which left me flushed and breathing hard, more sightseeing seemed pointless, so we got in the car and headed straight to Williamsport.
We checked in at the Hampton Inn where Roy usually stays, and Roy went off to tour a railroad yard with Todd Hunter of the North Shore Railroad. I stayed behind to catch up on email and view photos. Roy returned around 6:30 and we headed off to our anniversary dinner at The Old Corner.
We chose booth seating in the lounge, which appears to be our regular preference. The Manhattans were cold, frothy, and tasty. The spinach salad with apples, walnuts, gorgonzola and raspberry vinaigrette were especially welcome after many days of no vegetation on our plates save iceberg lettuce and icebox tomatoes. Roy had a New York strip steak with a side order of bacon macaroni and cheese. I had a sampling of appetizers and side dishes -- liver with bacon and onions; baby broccoli; sautéed mushrooms; and bacon macaroni and cheese. Replete, we called for the check, and I mentioned that everything was perfect except for being just a hair too salty.
When our server reappeared with the check, she also told us that the Old Corner wanted to offer us complimentary desserts. Hoping it was because of our anniversary and not because of my remarks about the salt, we chose. Roy chose wisely: a light peanut-butter mousse, not too sweet. I chose poorly: a chocolate lava cake with ice cream. The cake was wonderful but so rich that I couldn't finish it, which is why I say I chose poorly.
During the night, I thought I might feel a copy of Roy's cold coming on, but I seemed to have dodged that bullet.
There are only 19 pictures from July 28, beginning here. All entries from this vacation are tagged "anniverary trip."
