Cooperstown, New York
I-88 snakes its way through the snow covered mountains of upstate New York. Every winter it seems as though the amount of cars on the highway slowly depletes until only my dad and I are left in his blue Toyota Camry. As we travel further on the road the amount of snow on the banks of the highway increases and the howling wind goes up an octave as it whistles by my window. The sign for Exit 21 appears out of the blinding snow and we turn down the ramp and drive down the road towards Cooperstown.
At first, Cooperstown appears to be the same as every other small town that encircles it. Frozen fields that would eventually grow crops in the summer months are lined up endlessly on either side of the winding roads. Identical two storied and white colored houses are spaced out every two miles and occasionally a farm equipment store or weather beaten gas station will emerge amidst the barrage of ice and snow. However, after a few miles of driving, the repetitious picture begins to change. Old motels advertising a cheap bed and breakfast begin to take the place of the barren, frozen fields. Brightly colored billboards seem to shout from the drooping grey sky and forest of evergreen trees. The road eventually ceases its predictable winding path and begins to careen around the edge of Lake Private. In between clumps of trees I can take a peek at the frozen lake. Snow blankets its top and in the cracks of ice on my window, I can make out the ice fishers as they huddle around their holes, which are carved into the ice, and wait for a fish. The identical two storied and white colored houses are replaced by boarded up lakeside houses that suggest a more forgiving weather and mood then permitted by the cold month of January. After a few miles the Otesaga Hotel stands out against the blaring winds and the silence that occurs while we pass the hotel, which will then stand between the car and the wind, makes my stomach drop with the realization that we are...