Departing from Sylvan Beach on the morning of August 23rd, we expected a fairly short motor over to Utica, New York. We had heard a lot about the brewery there, and heard also that one tended to find a lot of deals on Thursday nights. Unfortunately, what we didn’t realize was that our day should have been significantly shorter than it was. Heads down and motoring, we discovered upon reaching lock 19 that Utica had in fact been at lock 20, 10 or so miles back the way we had just come. Not exactly wanting to backtrack, we pulled into the first place we could find after lock 19, Frankfort, NY.
Now, Utica, though not exactly a bustling metropolis, is a town that I’ve certainly heard of, and has certain colleges and businesses that people tend to recognize. Frankfort, NY is a village that I’m fairly certain no one has ever heard of. We couldn’t even see it from the canal until we had motored a good way up this little tributary to find the dock, surrounded by a residential area that looked like it had been abandoned since 1954. We made our way up to the municipal building to pay for the night, and to our good fortune, happened to find the mayor there, who told us that we certainly didn’t have to pay for the night, and if anyone told us to leave the dock, to inform them that he had said we were fine there.
This enjoyable exchange under our belts, we walked into town to find a charming little library, as well as a pleasant small-town grocery store, and learned of a couple bars with pool tables, a combination that neither Pieter nor I has been able to turn down yet. We patronized both very empty bars for an hour or two that night, but had to get back on the water early the next day to keep plugging away at the Canal.