Dunkirk New York to Erie Pennsylvania. Monday, May 3, 2021
Now this is a weird title for today’s entry. I didn’t even go to Chautauqua, but I was dreaming about it for much of an otherwise uneventful day.
Perhaps you have heard of this little town on the shores of Chautauqua Lake in extreme southwestern New York. Back in 1874, a nondenominational religious and art/culture colony was established, that spawned a movement that was very popular at the beginning of the last century. Traveling “Chautauquas” would commonly tour to remote sites across the country, bringing lectures, speeches, music, theater, and other genteel entertainment to places that would otherwise have no access. The movement gradually died out with the advent of radio and television, but the “mother Chautauqua” continues to thrive.
For me, it was a magical place. My mother’s family, the Readings—you have already met Lindsay Reading—have a couple of homes there, and we would often visit in the summers. Chautauqua was where I learned to swim, sail, do arts and crafts, and be dazzled by all of the art and culture. The Chautauqua Institution is an exclusive enclave, with a hefty gate fee, but once you were inside, all the performances and activities were free. it was kind of like a highbrow Disney World.
I came within 12 miles of it today, and on my 2007 trip we ended there, capped by an idyllic week. My father gave a lecture in the amphitheater. But this time it is too early, the enclave is closed until mid June. I was tempted to detour there anyway, to see the place of my childhood dreams, but it is over a 1000 foot climb.
The geography is one of the intriguing things about it. Chautauqua Lake looks like a Finger Lake, long and thin, pinched in the middle (its name comes from the native Erie tongue, meaning “bag tied in the middle”), but it is pointed perpendicular to the other Finger Lakes, like an opposable thumb, and drains south into the Allegheny River system, rather than north into Lake Ontario. That thousand foot climb represents crossing the Eastern Divide, between waters that drain into the Mississippi watershed and the Gulf of Mexico versus the Great Lakes watershed into the Saint Lawrence, ending near Newfoundland. How odd that Chautauqua Lake is only 8 miles from Lake Erie, but drains in an entirely different direction.
I ate my lunch at a little quickstop in Barcelona, my closest approach to Chautauqua, and was regretful about missing it. I was also sad because I wouldn’t get a chance to see Scary Lucy.
The iconic actress and comedienne Lucille Ball was born on the shore of Chautauqua Lake, near the gritty city of Jamestown. In 2009 a statue was erected in her honor, that became a viral sensation. The sculptor had attempted to re-create the famous scene of her getting drunk on Vitameatavegamin while shooting a commercial, but the result looked more like Steve Buscemi than Lucy, and sparked outrage among her fans. It was eventually replaced with Lovely Lucy, and now both statues can be seen on the shores of the lake.
The only actual highlight of the day was finally leaving the Empire State after 17 days, and entering the Quaker State.
The little corner of Pennsylvania that touches Lake Erie is only 46 miles wide for me, I should be able to get across in just over a day. By now it was raining, so I cruised nonstop to my motel in Erie, Pennsylvania’s fourth largest city. I was feeling fine, since my rain gear is doing its job, but have perfected the “pitiful drowned rat” look which convinced the motel clerk to give me the nicest room she could for my cheapo Priceline rate. I was delighted to see it came with a Jacuzzi!
The highlight here is the battleship Niagara, used by Commodore Perry to defeat the British Navy in the war of 1812, the famous line was “We have met the enemy and they are ours”. But after that whirlpool bath, no way was I going out in the rain again. I had wings and a salad delivered, did another interview with Steve Shepard (if you have the Apple podcast app, you can hear them on his National Curiosity Project podcast https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-natural-curiosity-project/id1443160082?i=1000519653928 ) and tucked into bed, snug as a bug in a rug.
Distance 48.6 miles, 720 total. Time 5 1/2 hours with stops. Elevation gain 1,256 feet.
The Ends of the Earth 