It was six-thirty when we arrived at Poughkeepsie.  As the next day would be Sunday, we made sure of a supply of gasoline that night.

Up to this point the roads, barring Nelson Hill, and the weather had been perfect, but conditions were about to change for the worse.

Sunday morning was gray and drizzly.  We left at eight-thirty.  The roads were soft and in places very slippery; becoming much worse as we approached Albany, where we arrived at half-past three.  There we should have stopped.  We had come seventy-five miles in seven hours, including all stops, over bad roads, and that should have sufficed; but it was such an effort to house the machine in Albany and get settled in rooms, that we decided to go on at least as far as Schenectady.

To the park it was all plain sailing on asphalt and macadam, but from the park to the gate of the cemetery and to the turn beyond the mud was so deep and sticky it seemed as if the machine could not possibly get through.  If we had attempted to turn about, we would surely have been stuck; there was nothing to do but follow the best ruts and go straight on, hoping for better things.  The dread of coming to a standstill and being obliged to get out in that eight or ten inches of uninviting mud was a very appreciable factor in our discomfort.  Fortunately, the clutch held well and the motor was not stalled.  When we passed the corner beyond the cemetery the road was much better, though still so soft the high speed could be used only occasionally.

The tank showed a leak, which for some reason increased so rapidly that a pail of water had to be added about every half-mile.  At last a pint of bran poured into the tank closed the leak in five minutes.

On reaching Latham it was apparent that Schenectady could not be made before dark, if at all, so we turned to the right into Troy.  We had made the two long sides of a triangle over the worst of roads; whereas, had we run from Albany direct to Troy, we could have followed a good road all the way.

The next morning was the 16th of September, the sun was shining brightly and the wind was fresh; the roads were drying every moment, so we did not hurry our departure.

The express office in Albany was telephoned for a new chain that had been ordered, and in about an hour it was delivered.  The machine was driven into a side street in front of a metal roofing factory, the tank taken out and so thoroughly repaired it gave no further trouble.  It was noon before the work was finished, for the new chain and a new belt to the pump had to be put on, and many little things done which consumed time.

At two o’clock we left Troy.  The road to Schenectady in good weather is quite good, but after the rain it was heavy with half-dried mud and deep with ruts.  From Schenectady to Fonda, where we arrived at six-thirty, the roads were very bad; however, forty-five miles in four hours and a half was fairly good travelling under the adverse conditions.  If the machine had been equipped with an intermediate gear, an average of twelve or fifteen miles could have been easily made.  The going was just a little too heavy for the fast speed and altogether too easy for the low, and yet we were obliged to travel for hours on the low gear.