The Sally W: #5: Nothing Ventured Nothing Gained

Publishing a blog post is like doing a brain dump. Once done, your mind is blank; there is nothing left to say – like a wide open river without obstructions. So you wait for the empty glass to fill.

Plop! The muse struck once more as we were leaving the dock in Amsterdam. The woman who owned the waterfront was helping her teenage son with a pesky lawn mower. She was dressed as if she were going to visit the mayor. She asked if we'd explored the town. “Just a little," we said. Turned out she was the mayor and an Erie Canal commissioner. Hmmm. We are learning the merits of talking to the locals. Sorry, with four cameras aboard, no one photographed Amsterdam. Damn.

It was another hot day, sunny, with temps in the mid 80s. Interesting sights and not a lot of locks to negotiate.

The guidebooks recommended the Arkell Museum in Canajoharie, reputed to have one of the finest collections of American artists in a small US museum. So we stopped in the early afternoon, and the museum was indeed excellent; a treat to see seven Winslow Homers and other American masters.

Of course, cameras weren't allowed in the galleries, but we were permitted this one of a lovely mural. Nice to see efforts of preservation and appreciation of Mohawk Valley history.

The museum exists through the generosity of Bartlett Arkell, one of the founders and first president of Beech-Nut Foods. [Unfortunately, the company left town a year ago.]

The village nevertheless is charming, the finest example of canal period architecture on the Mohawk River. There's a lot of pride here.

We ran into the antique dealer washing windows.

Once he sized us up, he escorted us to the Chamber of Commerce kiosk where we met Dolores, the president. After learning about local projects, we asked about restaurants. Since it was Monday, not much was open. More discussion, ending with agreement that Dolores would drive us to the Canajoharie Country Club (under new ownership with a great young chef) for dinner. Okay. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Wow! Good move. Every town should have a Dolores clone as an ambassador. She was one of those amazing ageless women, full of energy and love of life. She picked us up at the boat and gave a great running commentary as we rode high up above the Mohawk Valley.

This town has a circular gorge called “Canajoharie, a Mohawk Indian term meaning “the pot that washes itself.” We newcomers worked hard to pronounce the word: canna-joe-harry. Dolores was born here and it slides out as: Can-jarry. Oh yes, she's 80!

The "Canjarry" Country Club was waiting for us.

During dinner when it was revealed that Sally liked to cook, Dolores called for pen and paper. She wrote her favorite cake recipe, one that's been winning at state fairs since the 1890s.

Chocolate Cake

Combine: 4 Tbsp margarine (no substitutes says Dolores)

3 Tbsp cocoa

1 cup boiling water

Add: 1 egg

1 cup sugar

1 cup flour

1 tsp baking soda

1 tsp baking powder

1 tsp vanilla

Beat on slow two minutes. Batter will be runny. Pour into 8-inch square pan. Bake 375 for 30 minutes.

Jody and Sally haven't tried the recipe yet, but should have, in order to pass the time while Allan used up the next morning troubleshooting the flaky new refrigerator pump which was wired erroneously.

Our location each night on the canal is usually sandwiched between the NY State Thruway and the railroad tracks. We have become quite accustomed to the train whistles; some find it annoying while some find it romantic.

We finally set off at 11AM in drizzle which increased as we headed west. Uniform of the day: rain gear. Fortunately it was warm and barefeet on deck worked well.

We stopped at the St. Johnsville Marina, rumored to be selling diesel for $3.25/gallon. If you're not a boater, this is meaningless. If you are, you know that the price this season along the coast is in the high $4 range.