Steve. We usually book our hotels at lunch. As usual, we see how the day is tracking and how much we feel we should go. But always try to pull into the hotel no later than Beer-30 time. We call the Colonial Inn, and get redirected to Steve, the proprietor. He is a chatty fellow, but doesn't seem to have his reservation book handy, so anyone's guess if he is booked or not. So, we decide plan A is to see if there are any tasty offerings in Fleschmanns, NY as we drive through.
We pretty much strike out and decide to trek a few miles down to Pine Hill and the Colonial Inn.
What was advertised on the interwebs
We pretty much strike out and decide to trek a few miles down to Pine Hill and the Colonial Inn.
What was advertised on the interwebs
This is what greeted us (which I am still not convinced is the same building). A sagging roof line, a yard full of non-operational lawn equipment, and a porch stuffed with an eclectic array of nicknacks from an era gone by. My heart sank.
We sat on our bikes debating the merits of our situation. On one hand, it was going to be 40 degrees tonight. Camping could work but with only 1.5 hours to total darkness, doesn't excite us. On the other hand, we've not found anything that might be more tasty than this 4.3 star hotel. Armyguy at least confirms that that Bates hotel is not co-located in Pine Hill.
Without further ado, Blaster trots off to get a tour. And somehow, after seeing every dead critter stuffed and mounted in the lobby...he is smitten.
Without further ado, Blaster trots off to get a tour. And somehow, after seeing every dead critter stuffed and mounted in the lobby...he is smitten.
The hotel is ancient, and has some oddities. Every surface is not flat, to include the floor. J4S has a shared bathroom, but encouraged by Steve to "get some action" with as he hands him the second key. Then Armyguy walks into the lobby as a women with a Parakeet bird on her head walks down the stairs. Be a gentile, he comments on her 'nice bird', to which she replies she had forgotten it was still on her head. It is still unclear if the bird was alive or stuffed, but all the weird the same. Blaster warned me not to take this picture, as he was afraid of what might show up later in the photos. I don't see any ghosts, did you?
Walking down to dinner that night, Pine Hill has an interesting hippy-type vibe. All the locals on sitting out on their porches, friendly as can be. Some have the backyard firepits ablazing.
Hot breakfast was included, and we bid ourselves goodbye to Steve and set off for track 2/3.
Hot breakfast was included, and we bid ourselves goodbye to Steve and set off for track 2/3.