Foodie Heaven -- Say, what you will about the Empire State, you just can’t beat the food.  People here know how to eat.  We found that’s even the case when your travels take you to some obscure little town that happens to have a farm with stalls to rent and a room over the barn for the horses’ people.

As Day 2 drew to a close, we were pretty damn hungry.  So, after we got the horses settled at the Circle G Ranch, we went into town -- Pine Plains -- to check out one of the three restaurant offerings.  There was Holy Guacamole (Mexican), the Spud Shack (?), and Tower Pizza.  We opted for pizza.  Kurt ordered garlic bread while we waited for what they called the ‘garbage pie.’  I’m not a big garlic bread person but I thought I’d try a bite dipped in what looked like some pretty nice marinara.  It was the best sauce of my life.  Next, they brought out simple green salads.  I swear to the green goddess herself, the olive oil and balsamic on that salad were from heaven.  Finally, the pie was delivered – perfect crust, tangy sauce, just the right amount of cheese and toppings.  I looked around at the other patrons.  Did they understand they weren’t being served dinner but a sacrament?  No, they were just scarfing it down.  Breakfast on Day 3 at the ‘Moose on the Loose’ was almost as stellar and the five ladies yelling at each other as they prepped our breakfast sandwiches were a hoot.  What’s more NY than that.

Hampton of the Hills -- Kurt’s family has long had a house out on Shelter Island on the North Fork of Long Island.  When I tell that to folks from New York, they always take a step back.  Shelter Island kind of has a Great Gatsby reputation.  But, trust me, Kurt’s house does not have a Great Gatsby vibe.  It’s nice, but we’re pretty sure if the family ever sells it, it will be torn down and a cottage with eight bathroom and a home theater erected in its place.  My daughter Renee says the people on SI are the types who buy $500 shirts then roll them in a ball so they look wrinkly.  Shelter Island on steroids is the Hamptons.  And, when the folks in the Hamptons get sick of having sand in the floormats of their Jags, they come to Saratoga Springs for the art scene and horse races.

Our first stop when we got to Saratoga Springs was Loon Meadow Farm where we were boarding the horses and renting a very nice little suite.  The owner, Beth, was not there to greet us because she offers carriage rides in the Saratoga Spa Park.  That day, her carriage was fully decked out by a professional florist so she could take the 100 guests at a child’s first birthday party for rides – I kid you not!  Our next stop was a tack shop to get Kurt some paddock boots.  He’d left his beat-up cowboy boots at home and was doing some pretty hard damage to a pair meant more for show than for go.  We took one step into Saratoga Saddlery and I asked the proprietor if there was some place in town to buy stuff for people who actually ride horses.  He led us to a dark corner in the back and sold Kurt an excellent pair of Aussie muckers that would do the trick.  Our third stop, the Saratoga Historical Park to get details on riding the battlefield.  Three rangers descended on us with more information than we could process.  No one had asked about riding in a very long time.  Now, I’m not trying to paint a negative picture of Saratoga Springs – this is a beautiful place.  The old Victorian houses are charming, the locals delightful, and the downtown lively.  But, this place is very ‘Town and Country,’ where I aspire to be ‘Nat Geo.’ 

Heart of History – Day 4, we woke early and headed to the battlefield for our ride before the heat of the day.  Beth said that was ‘Southern girl thinking’.  I let that pass – Maryland is decidedly not the South -- as she is very sweet and the ride was outstanding.  The day before had been a rest day for the boys with no riding and only a 3-hour trailer trip over decent roads.  They were jacked up.  The trail was fantastic – a mowed strip that wound through sunny hay fields, shady stretches of forest, and around the redoubts and across the meadows that had comprised the two battles that were fought here.  Riding up the gradual slope from down near the Hudson River’s edge to the Visitor’s Center at the top of the battlefield, we were really able to envision the various engagements that had led to the decisive American victory that was effectively the turning point in the war and that sowed the seeds of Benedict Arnold’s undoing.

They say that the only difference between a revolution and a civil war is who wins to tell the story.  If the rebs win, it’s a revolution and they are patriots; if the establishment, it’s a civil war and the rebs terrorists.  I’m sure we can all agree that’s how the British felt.  But, we don’t often think about the Loyalists Americans who did not want to break from England.  Many of them fought alongside the English and had to flee the country after the War ended.  But, even when you think of our revolution as a civil war, there is a marked difference between battles fought to expand freedom and those fought to continue its curtailment.  Somehow, experiencing Gettysburg and Saratoga just a few days apart, you can feel that difference.