A heroic saga of waterfalls, weather, and way too much walking. We braved the slippery stone steps of Watkins Glen, got aggressively misted by Buttermilk Falls, stared into the abyss of Seneca Lake, and briefly considered a career in motorsports at Watkins Glen International. Our clothes dried just in time to be re-drenched at the next stop.
Fueling our survival? Upstate New York breweries, where we traded our soaked dignity for IPAs and warm pretzels. Spirits remained high despite the humidity in our shoes. We came for nature’s beauty and left with waterlogged memories, and possibly trench foot.
Moto-Misel 