When I was a kid my family would sometimes go to Wellesly Island State Park on the St. Lawrence River in upstate New York, right on the border between civilization and Canada. It's this idyllic little place that's pretty much been unchanged since the fifties. It's got a quiet little, tiny town with nothing on it besides a bunch of houses, some bar that I never got to go into, an honest-to-god ice cream-soda shop and a dock. There's other stuff in the general vicinity, but that's pretty much all that's in walking distance, and driving anywhere while you're up there kind of ruins the whole ambiance of the place. It's just the most tranquil place I've ever been.
This is the ridiculously high bridge that is the only way on or off of the island that I have no intention of ever driving over.
That's the dock where I went fishing from dawn till dusk for pretty much the entire two weeks we'd be up there.
Alright, apparently the bar is a restaurant/hotel, but my aunts and uncles definitely used it to get wasted.
That's actually a castle in the middle of the river that some guy built for his wife years and years ago. Of course she died before it was finished. Women.
Man, I almost forgot the nature hikes.
The aforementioned border between civilization and Canada.
