Note: For many more pictures visit:
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Arrival Day — Saturday, July 4
Silver Bay, Lake George
Preparations for the Chirico Extravaganza 2026 began early.
Very early.
Stephen booked Silver Bay on January 3, 2025, a full 18 months before our July 4, 2026 check-in date. He did this at exactly 10:00 AM, just hours after Silver Bay opened reservations for the following summer season. And even then, there was only one week left available, which says a lot about Silver Bay and the families who return here year after year, apparently with the same military-level booking discipline normally reserved for Taylor Swift tickets, college housing, or organ transplants.
After that came the emails.
Countless emails.
Emails explaining logistics. Then re-explaining logistics. Then explaining the logistics that had already been explained in the prior logistics emails. But Chiricos are a thick bunch, and therefore emails alone were not enough. There were follow-up texts, reminder texts, deposit reminders, headcount reminders, “who is coming?” reminders, “who might be coming?” reminders, and of course, the endless stream of operational questions.
Can we bring the Hobie Cat?
Will there be this?
Will there be that?
Did you send the deposit?
No, really, did you send the deposit?
Eventually, things started to click.
In the weeks leading up to departure, Anthony aggressively pursued Hobie Cat logistics, including last-minute wheel replacements, part replacements, and power washing. Michaelangelo was in charge of wood, solo stove and Blackstone. Vincent readied a trailer. Bruce, meanwhile, simply did Bruce.
The West Coast Smiths flew in on Friday evening, though not without drama. Their plane circled for nearly an hour over the Midwest due to massive storms moving through New Jersey. These were not theoretical storms either. During our final preparations in Whippany, one of those storms blew in with 80-mile-an-hour winds and knocked power out at the Smith house.
So final packing — and even departure the next morning — was done without the benefit of modern electricity.
As of 48 hours later, the power was still out at our house…(note: it would be a full 5 days.)
Regardless, the Smith caravan left New Jersey at a respectable 11:30 AM and made it to Delmar, New York by 2:00 PM to fetch Nonna and her Subaru. There, we reshuffled cars, luggage, people, groceries, and probably several life decisions.
Scotty, Jennifer, and Sienna continued in the Subaru to BJ’s along the Northway to procure grocery provisions, while the rest of us continued to Silver Bay.
Fortunately, Michelangelo and Harlie could be counted on, as usual, to be the first to arrive. And fortunately for everyone else, they handled the initial logistics and bureaucracy of checking in, getting keys, then going back to get the actual keys, and finally getting into our lodging: the Paine Hall Mansion.
This was just in time for Stephen, Nonna, and Liam to arrive, quickly locate rooms, and confirm broom grabs.
Then came Sawyer, Lena, and Madeline.
Next came Bruce and Erin, who arrived in an Uber after flying, as they usually do in their bougie style, into the Ticonderoga Airport.
Then Anthony and Courtney arrived in a heavily loaded Porsche, hauling a Hobie Cat and carrying wood, unbelievable provisions, e-bikes, two air-conditioning units, One Wheels, a hydrofoil all on a trailer with a wheel replaced just hours earlier!.
Then came Olivia and Ian in the work van.
Much later that evening, the full group became complete when Vincent, Becca, and Charlie pulled in close to 10:00 PM.
Initial thoughts on the Paine Hall Mansion were mixed.
The house, constructed in 1895 years ago by Silas Paine an oil executive, clearly had history. It also clearly needed massive amounts of TLC. Yes, it was large, with 17 bedrooms, multiple maze-like staircases, subdivided rooms, simple bedrooms and bathrooms, and a very small kitchen. It felt very college Sororrity or Frat house ish… But it also had a huge rotunda and plenty of strange old-house charm.
Basically, it was probably quite original. A few days later an old man pulled up who said he was a descendant of the builder who made his fortune as the founder of the Electro Lux vacuum company but that story did not jive with Wikipedia who credits Silas Paine for selling to the YMCA in 1904.
Fortunately, the quantity and size of the house made up for the quality, and after some brief room reshuffling, everyone found a place.
Food was not exactly on anyone’s formal itinerary for the first evening, so Stephen and Scotty began improvising. Steaks went on the grill for meat bites. Cheesy bread with pesto appeared. There were heavy hors d’oeuvres, carrots, hummus, Olivia cooked up some chicken, a few bags of chips and peanuts, and, of course, adult beverages.
At around 8:00 PM, Scotty, Jennifer, and Nonna were the first to depart for live music. Then others followed to see two brothers from Maine perform acoustic music with bass and guitar. They had nice harmonies and were genuinely excellent, making for a fantastic first-night surprise.
After the performance, around 9:15 PM, we walked down to the point, a Peninsula into the lake where fireworks could be seen in the distance.
Then it was back to the mansion for an evening gathered around Michelangelo’s large Solo Stove, which he kept aggressively and perhaps excessively stocked with firewood.
And that was the wrap on Arrival Day — Saturday, July 4.
Highlights included everyone gathered around the bonfire, lots and lots of firewood, even more groceries, approximately 15 loaves of bread, several cases of adult beverages, a gross and a half of eggs, packed refrigerators and freezers, a scramble for ice at the ice machine, and, naturally, lots and lots of shouting.
The Chiricos had arrived.
Final Day 1 Status:
Power in Whippany: still out.
Groceries: excessive.
Bread: alarming.
Eggs: industrial quantity.
Firewood: dangerously abundant.
Paine Hall: questionable but accepted.
Chirico noise level: fully restored.
Extravaganza status: officially underway.
Day Two — Sunday, July 5
The Chirico Extravaganza text chain began going off at 7:15 AM, because apparently vacation is no excuse for silence, rest, or basic human decency.
First came the pickleball people: who was going, when they were going, who was in, who was out, who was maybe in, and who had no idea what was happening but wanted to be included in the confusion.
There were also walkers.
Then came the breakfasters.
The morning food operation centered around the “small” Blackstone grills.
Not the full-size Blackstone.
This distinction is important because, according to Michelangelo, a small Blackstone is not really a Blackstone. It is more of a toy, a camping accessory, or perhaps a decorative breakfast suggestion.
The initial reveal that Michelangelo had failed to bring the full-size Blackstone landed like a major infrastructure failure. There was concern. There was disappointment. There may have been a brief loss of confidence in leadership. He had apparently delegated such an important responsibility without proper follow-up, which is exactly the kind of breakdown that brings down civilizations, ruins family reputations, and leaves bacon vulnerable.
Fortunately, in classic Chirico fashion, two smaller Blackstones were somehow “found,” which raises questions no one needs answered. And, despite Michelangelo’s emotional distress over not having a big one, they proved perfectly sufficient for the entire week.
Leave it to the Chiricos to magically locate Blackstones.
Leave it to Michelangelo to have an emotional support griddle and still panic because it wasn’t big enough.
The two smaller grills handled about a pound of bacon and roughly three or four dozen eggs, some with cheese and some without, depending on dietary preferences, lactose tolerance, and the general emotional fragility of the breakfast crowd.
Multiple English muffin breakfast sandwiches were consumed.
Then it was time for action.
The first formal Silver Bay activity was archery, conveniently located right next to Paine Hall. Archery was quite fun. Everyone became competitive almost immediately, going shot for shot, with the usual family blend of encouragement, trash talk, denial, and blaming equipment.
Overall, everyone did pretty well — especially if you measure success by hitting the target at all and avoiding the dreaded “search of shame,” where your arrow misses the entire target and everyone has to pretend they are helping you look while silently judging you.
Top marks went to Stephen and Jennifer, as well as Sawyer and Liam, who even ventured to the far target.
Most disappointing was Vincent, who is essentially a professional archer and has actually killed things with a bow and arrow. Yet he was wildly inconsistent. Naturally, he blamed the inferior equipment, even though the same inferior equipment had worked perfectly well for people with far fewer credentials and far less wilderness swagger that HE TAUGHT!
By late morning, another hour had passed, and some of the late-sleeping Smiths had finally gotten up and had breakfast.
By noon, food was already being prepared again, because the Chirico Extravaganza does not measure time in hours. It measures time in meals.
Cold-cut sandwiches appeared. Pesto bread appeared. Cheese wraps appeared. Chips appeared. And even if you were not hungry, there was food. Lots of food. We have lots of food. Remember: we have lots of food.
By 12:30 PM, people were getting antsy for Hobie Cat sailing, especially Anthony, who had worked very hard to make the Hobie Cat dream a reality. Therefore, launch logistics began.
Who would go?
Where would we go?
Where would we anchor?
How would this work?
What could happen?
What could go wrong?
These questions were repeated again and again, ad nauseam, by everyone, to everyone, in every possible combination. Classic Chirico.
In the end, people hopped in the Hobie, and four bikers — Scotty, Stephen, Sawyer, and Vincent — rode down to the boat ramp four miles away in Hague.
Once there, the real operation began.
A sail was hoisted. Sails were unfurled. Cables were thrown. Knots were tied, then retied. A paddle was not had. Enough life jackets were also not had, even though common sense would suggest that life jackets are something one might confirm before launching a sailboat into Lake George.
Bruce hopped in and began backing up the trailer.
And backing up fast.
There were trees above. There was water below. There were people watching. I believe some may have even been photographing.
It was a scene.
Michelangelo was giggling and squealing, as he usually does when something chaotic is happening, but he is not directly responsible.
Anthony and Vincent paddled out the Hobie, with Scotty and Lium kicking for power on the back, and miraculously, no boats were harmed, no humans drowned, and everything went reasonably well.
But once Vincent hit the water, instinct took over.
The man remembered he was part sailor and part chaos agent, and he wanted to sail.
As the Hobie Cat began drifting away, Vincent yelled back, “Stephen, ride my bike home and grab my shoes!”
This was a bold request, considering Stephen had also ridden a bike there and was already in possession of exactly one bike and only one set of legs.
Vincent, Anthony, and Liam set off into the windless waters of Lake George, while Vincent’s shoes and bicycle responsibilities were immediately transferred to Stephen by executive order.
Apparently, advanced planning is for cowards.
But no worries, because Michelangelo — who probably had no idea there would now be an extra bike that needed to get home — immediately jumped on the e-bike Stephen had ridden there and took off.
This was followed shortly by Courtney, who also decided that if e-bikes were being redistributed without warning, she would like one too.
This left Stephen riding Vincent’s bike, which was too tall and had clip in pedals, and Scotty riding the mountain bike.
Classic Chirico transportation planning: everyone gets home, but no one knows how or on whose bike.
After that, the group shifted down to the “private” beach area.
And by “private,” we mean there were no other people.
And by “no other people,” we mean that swimming was technically not allowed there.
This was confirmed by one informal, non-super-disciplinary correction from a Silver Bay staff member, who politely informed us that we were hanging out in an area where people were not supposed to go in and out of the water.
In official terms, there was no “ingress and egress.”
In Chirico terms, there was lake, there was water, and therefore there was ingress, egress, regress, and probably progress.
Fortunately, this gentle talking-to came before they noticed we were also planning to dock the Hobie Cat there overnight! But that would be another matter.
After many hours the Hobie finally arrived mainly because there was no wind. Fortunately for Vincent and Anthony there was a fully stocked cooler. Unfortunately, for Lium who reported much paddling and no water to drink.
The afternoon then unfolded exactly as a lake afternoon should: people took turns on the Hobie Cat, catching whatever tiny scraps of wind Lake George was willing to donate, while others stand-up paddle boarded, lounged in the water, floated around, snacked, drank adult beverages and sugary drinks, and generally lived their best mildly unauthorized Silver Bay lives.
Meanwhile, another group of ladies was off doing pottery on the pottery wheel, which was wonderful because it meant people were actually taking advantage of the amenities and luxuries of Silver Bay. That, after all, is the theme and purpose of this particular genre of Extravaganza: a diverse collection of experiences, from whitewater rafting to beaching, Cape Cod sailing, skiing, camping, and now Silver Bay resort living.
But more on the mission statement later.
Back at the homestead, Ian and Olivia prepared a magnificent taco Mexican fiesta night, featuring an unbelievable amount of meat, chicken, veggies, shells, burritos, and a variety of salsas. It was delicious, abundant, and — judging by the activity level of the many bathrooms over the next 24 hours — extremely effective.
The fire pit was started, and in Michelangelo’s usual capacity, immediately overstuffed with way too many logs of wood.
Announcements were then made that this year’s Chirico Extravaganza gear would be unveiled at precisely 8:00 PM.
Of course, Bruce and Erin missed the memo and were off hiking, walking, or otherwise roaming the property, so the unveiling had to be postponed by five or ten minutes.
Finally, at 8:10 PM, Sienna and Madeline came out with the official unveiling of this year’s CE gear: a bright red T-shirt featuring “Lake George Chirico Extravaganza 2026” emblazoned on the front. Also included was “Established circa 1899,” as a homage to our patriarch, Anthony Chirico — our great-grandfather, grandfather, and original source material for all of this madness.
The shirt also paid proper respect to this year’s venue with “Silver Bay 2026.” On the back, in classic baseball-uniform style, was “Chirico 26,” so there would be no confusion as to who we were, where we belonged, and which vintage of family chaos this shirt represented.
After some fire pit time, it was time for the group photo.
This was masterfully orchestrated by Michelangelo, who possesses just the right amount of OCD to wrangle this herd of feral cats into something resembling a posed family portrait in front of Paine Hall Mansion. It was not easy. There was shouting. There was repositioning. There were delays. There were people not listening. So, in other words, it was perfect.
After another hour or so around the fire pit, we walked down to the fireworks display.
Actually, not everyone walked. Some people got a ride in the golf cart, some biked and some One-wheeled.
Madeline and Sawyer did a great job shuttling chairs back and forth, which was almost certainly just an excuse to ride the e-bikes, but it was still quite helpful for the oldsters, who did not have to sit on the ground.
The fireworks display started around 9:15 PM, shortly after it was officially dark enough for fireworks, and the show definitely did not disappoint. These were not merely backyard fireworks launched with a questionable lighter and a beer in hand. This was a real display, and Silver Bay deserves credit. Well done.
After the fireworks, it was back to the fire pit.
Slowly, people began trickling off to sleep. The circle around the fire grew smaller and smaller, as it always does. Eventually, it came down to the Chirico brothers and Stephen around midnight.
Then finally, just Vincent and Anthony remained, closing out the evening somewhere closer to 12:30 or 1:00 AM.
And with that, official Day Two came to a close.
Wind: minimal.
Food: excessive.
Firewood: dangerously abundant.
Bathrooms: fully engaged.
Chirico Extravaganza: fully operational.
Day Three — Monday, July 6
Silver Bay, Lake George
Monday morning began, as all great vacation mornings should, with food slowly appearing and people trickling down from their rooms in various states of consciousness.
Breakfast was Olivia’s French toast, more eggs, more bacon, and sliced watermelon. The first wave started around 7:00 AM, and the breakfast stragglers continued appearing until somewhere between 10:30 and 11:00, because Chirico time is less of a schedule and more of a suggestion.
It goes without saying that the pecking order of who did what remained intact.
Bruce and Erin were the first ones up and at ’em, since they had a full day of flying planned. When Bruce and Erin returned later that evening, they had stories of multiple hops from White Planes to Nantucket and back, which was genuinely impressive.
Eventually, the rest of the group began heading down to the beach with bikes, chairs, blankets, towels, snacks, and the usual amount of unnecessary logistical discussion.
Swimming was had for a few minutes, including a swim out to the floating dock, which was unfortunately covered in seagull poop. This made the dock slightly less idyllic and slightly more like a maritime crime scene.
Then the Chiricos started to get antsy.
We looked out at the lake and saw what appeared to be a little bit of wind, so we decided to take our shot at getting Sunfish certified.
The first to get certified were Stephen and Anthony.
The certification process included setting up the Sunfish, sailing around two buoys, then intentionally capsizing it so the sail hit the water, and finally righting it back up. Once that was completed, we were officially allowed to take passengers, which is always comforting after a process that involves deliberately flipping over a small boat.
Stephen took Sienna out, and they found some decent wind in a few places. But in general, there was not a lot of wind, and sailing with no wind is really just roasting in the sun while pretending to participate in a sport.
Anthony took Courtney out as well.
For the most part, however, the Hobie Cat remained untouched, sitting defiantly in illegal waters.
By the afternoon, the drama escalated when a sign appeared stating that the area was not a boat parking lot and would have to be removed within 24 hours. So the Hobie Cat saga continued, because apparently even a stationary sailboat can become a legal issue when the Chiricos are involved.
After sailing and beaching, everyone returned to the house, where it was Anthony and Courtney’s night to cook.
And they delivered.
Dinner featured multiple boxes of burgers, buns grilled in butter on the Blackstone, delicious cut fries, and a beautiful salad prepared by Courtney using greens and vegetables from Vincent’s garden. It was, of course, a feast. Because apparently no Chirico meal is complete unless it could also support a small construction crew.
In addition to the gluttonous meal and the usual drinks, we had been making advance preparations for the big World Cup game: USA versus Belgium in the Round of 16.
This was Lena’s big event. As a huge soccer and World Cup fan, she had been looking forward to it all day.
Game time was 8:00 PM, and around 7:45 we started heading down to the gymnasium, which had been set up with a TV and special broadcast. It was quite warm inside, though not unbearable. We started outside with limited viewing because of spectators blocking the screen, then eventually moved up to the top balcony for a much better view.
It was noisy, fun, warm, and very much a communal Silver Bay experience.
Unfortunately, the U.S. lost to Belgium, 3–2, so it was not the ideal ending to the evening’s main event.
After the game wrapped up around 11:00 PM, it was back to our Paine Hall Mansion, where yet another fire was started.
The fire kept several of the late-night watchers gathered until well after midnight, as the circle once again grew smaller, quieter, and more stubborn.
And with that, Monday came to a close.
Breakfast: prolonged.
Flying: bougie.
Wind: suspiciously absent.
Hobie Cat legality: deteriorating.
Dinner: excessive and excellent.
World Cup outcome: disappointing.
Fire pit: undefeated.
Chirico Extravaganza 2026
Day Four — Tuesday, July 7
Silver Bay, Lake George
After being up late the night before, Stephen was certainly not an early riser. But his vacation slumber was interrupted by a call from the YMCA.
Apparently, our Hobie Cat — and the polite sign that had been posted — were not enough to motivate the Chirico’s into compliance. So now we had escalated to direct contact.
“Are you the owner of the Hobie Catamaran?”
We were busted.
It was ours.
The boat had to be moved.
Stephen asked for a few more hours to stretch out the inevitable, explaining that we were “working on logistics,” checking the wind forecast, and would probably move it around 1:00 or 2:00. This kept our options open as to whether we would pay for a slip or pull it back out of the water in Hague.
Regardless, the authorities had noticed. The Hobie Cat was officially on the radar.
Naturally, this became the primary topic of discussion at breakfast, which was prepared by Scotty and Jennifer. The morning spread included toasted bagels with olive cream cheese schmear, sausage bites, and sliced kiwis.
Between bites, there was debate over whether to pull the Hobie Cat out or dock it and pay the exorbitant $176-per-night boat slip fee. Bruce was adamantly in favor of paying, which made sense because Bruce will do nearly anything to delay and procrastinate logistics or manual labor. Of course, when he finally gets around to doing the work, he usually makes it look effortless, so nobody is quite sure why he procrastinates in the first place.
Oh well.
The morning activity was led by Lena, our resident Pilates instructor, who taught a lovely flow class on the front lawn. She got everyone stretching, moving, and pretending to be limber.
Others were engaged in more serious activities, like feeding babies, taking work calls — as Stephen did — or simply watching the show, drinking coffee, and being lazy, like Olivia.
There had been some discussion about making Tuesday the official hike day, but with the boat situation now requiring resolution, it was determined that we should try to make one more push to sail.
Michelangelo wanted to take the Hobie Cat out, but as he began procrastinating, Stephen and Anthony threatened to swoop in and steal the boat.
That finally got Michelangelo moving and yelling for Harlie to hurry… “HARLIE” Mike loves yelling (lovingly) for Harlie.
He and Harlie took out the Hobie and spent far too many hours on the water. Several hours later, Michelangelo returned quite annoyed, having endured too much sun, not enough sunscreen, way too much exposure, not enough food and water, and no real relief from the elements.
Stephen and Anthony then took the Hobie Cat out for a bit. Stephen was eventually brought back to shore so he could officially complete the paperwork for a slip, while Anthony took Madeline out for a sail.
Other sailing adventures of the day included Scotty passing his Sunfish sailing test, despite the continued lack of meaningful wind. Sienna also passed her Sunfish test, which was quite impressive.
Meanwhile, in addition to the armada of boats scattered around the lake, Olivia, Courtney, and Madeline were out on stand-up paddle boards. Stephen and Nonna floated around in a two-person kayak, watching the windless sailboats and the general chaos of people drifting, paddling, and baking in the sun on a beautiful Lake George day.
After a full day of boating, sailing, paddling, floating, and questionable maritime decision-making, the day concluded with an extremely chaotic tie-up at our now-official boat slip.
With help from Sawyer, Liam, Madeline, Anthony, and Stephen, the process essentially involved paddling, pushing, walking, dragging, and maneuvering the Hobie Cat all over the marina while trying to get it into place. It was not elegant. It was not efficient. But eventually, after much effort, discussion, and water-based absurdity, the Hobie Cat was docked.
Officially.
Legally.
For $176 per night.
After all of that, everyone returned to the house, where dinner preparations were already underway.
Tonight’s feast was hosted by Scotty, Jennifer, Liam, and Madeline, and it was phenomenal. They prepared sliced and marinated flank steak, sliced and marinated chicken, taco shells, guacamole, salsa, sliced onions, and, of course, the ever-present potato chips, which had become a staple food group of the Extravaganza.
While dinner was being prepared, Stephen took the opportunity to test out the One wheel that Erin had helped him get set up and safely equipped with pads and helmet. She gave him a few pointers, and after quite a bit of wiggle-wobbling, slow starts, burning calves, and cautious movement, he got the hang of it.
Within a half hour, he was feeling comfortable enough to cruise all around the YMCA campus, both on pavement and off-road. He made turns, practiced slaloms, attempted to ride switch, and generally behaved like a middle-aged man who had just discovered a new way to injure himself.
Needless to say, Stephen loved the new toy.
The evening’s first planned activity was supposed to be family dodgeball in the gymnasium. But when we arrived, there were not many people there, and somehow the night pivoted into Pickleball Night.
There was near-maximum participation on the pickleball courts, with lots of people playing and rotating in.
The reigning champions were, of course, Bruce and Erin, followed closely by Scotty and Jennifer.
Special mentions go to Sienna and Lena, who were quite horrible.
Sawyer, and Liam found themselves forming a legitimate duo, as did Stephen and Anthony, who proved surprisingly competitive.
Pickleball kept everyone entertained for several hours, until darkness began to approach. At that point, many groups went for ice cream and then trickled back to the house.
There was no fire this evening, which was probably a good thing for the firewood supply, if not for tradition.
Some people went to bed early. But of course, the kids — Sawyer, Sienna, Liam, Madeline — along with Anthony and Vincent, played another game of Catan, which seems to have become the new favorite over Monopoly.
Others sat around the large foyer, talking, relaxing, recovering, and enjoying the late-evening quiet of Paine Hall.
Eventually, everyone split off to bed at various times.
And with that, Tuesday came to a close.
Hobie Cat status: busted, relocated, and legalized.
Boat slip fee: offensive.
Pilates: productive.
Wind: still mostly theoretical.
Dinner: excellent.
Onewheel: dangerous but beloved.
Pickleball: competitive.
Sienna and Lena: brave, but bad.
Catan: undefeated.
Chirico Extravaganza 2026
Day Five — Wednesday, July 8
Silver Bay, Lake George
Day Five of the Chirico Extravaganza began in its usual manner: with breakfast.
But not just any breakfast.
A CE breakfast.
Each morning had somehow become its own distinct and spectacular production, and today’s creation was again sponsored by Olivia. The menu included sausage links — lots and lots of sausage links — and omelets. Lots and lots of omelets. Some had vegetables. Some had cheese. The smart people added salsa.
Then came the usual debate of what to do. Would today be the day of the big hike?
The wind was not looking especially promising, but Nonna decided she wanted to go out on the Hobie Cat. Hike aborted. Scotty and Anthony signed up for duty, and the three of them floated out onto Lake George with a cooler of drinks for multiple hours.
The rest of the armada soon followed. Jennifer and Sawyer kayaked and paddle boarded across the entire lake to a cliff-jumping spot, while the Hobie Cat booze-cruised slowly back and forth, occasionally catching small gusts of wind and pretending to be a performance sailing vessel.
Back on shore, several beachgoers made appearances throughout the day, including Vincent and Charlie, Lena and Stephen, Olivia, Harlie, and Michelangelo. Most visits were relatively brief, but attendance was noted.
Around 1:30, some folks headed back, and the next activity was the climbing wall.
Michelangelo made it to the top once.
Liam was the star climber, making it up at least twice, and possibly three times.
Harlie made it up.
Stephen made it up once, but on his second attempt, his hands were completely shot. Apparently, sailing, gripping ropes, and acting like one knows what one is doing on a Hobie Cat had destroyed what little grip strength he had left.
Olivia also gave it a go.
Meanwhile, Sienna and Madeline were nowhere to be seen because they were weaving baskets, which apparently is not a casual craft but a full-time endeavor. Despite becoming professional basket weavers by late afternoon, they did not even finish by the end of the day.
Sienna was apparently so good that her 82-year-old basket-weaving coach tried to recruit her as an apprentice to work there next summer.
As the afternoon went on, more people made their way back down to the water, and the wind finally started to pick up a little bit.
This worked out well because Nonna was ready to come in, and Anthony needed a break. So Anthony headed out for re-provisions, leaving Scotty and Stephen to rip back and forth on the Hobie Cat as the wind increased.
With each run, the sailing improved. Tacking became smoother. Efficiency increased. Confidence grew, which is always dangerous.
Then Anthony appeared on a stand-up paddleboard carrying a bag of beer and fruit, which was impressive both because he made it out there on a paddleboard in Lake George and because he remembered provisions.
This was much appreciated.
We then did what any responsible Chirico would do: we strapped, or perhaps merely laid, the paddleboard across the front pontoons of the Hobie Cat and continued ripping back and forth with it attached to the boat.
Sienna then called from shore and wanted to come out, so we told her to head back to the dock.
Scotty was ready to bail, so he jumped overboard taking the paddleboard, leaving Stephen, Anthony and Sienna on the Hobie.
This was when the wind really started to pick up.
Because Sienna arrived late, she got the best conditions of the day. We sailed back and forth, with Sienna hiking out as counterbalance against the breeze.
We stayed out until we were pretty much the last boat on the lake. It was likely past 6:00 or 6:30 by the time we finally decided to come in, even though the wind was still good.
And impressively, we did a very good job docking.
We took the sails down as we floated in, powered under the jib, then dropped that too and coasted neatly into the dock like people who had planned it that way all along.
Then it was back up to the house, where dinner was being served.
Another masterful Chirico Extravaganza dinner awaited us, this time prepared by Becca and Vincent, who deserve huge kudos for spending much of the day cooking. The meal included not one but two trays of meat lasagna, a big salad, and excellent ribs.
And for dessert, Becca had baked a tres leches cake, which was phenomenal.
After dinner, the evening festivities split between porch hanging and those who wanted to go down to the gym for family dodgeball.
Family dodgeball would have been way more fun if the gym had not been extremely hot. Still, the teams formed.
It was Sawyer, Madeline, Scotty, and Vincent against Anthony, Stephen, Lena, and Sienna.
Most impressive was Sawyer’s arm, which was an absolute cannon.
Vincent was quite adept at deflecting balls with other balls as shields, and he was also extremely quick to race to the line and collect balls after each reset.
After a little while, we were all hot, winded, and sweaty. Madeline played with the lights, which turned off but did not go back on. We took this as a sign from above that dodgeball was over and it was time to head back.
Back at the house, there was more porch time. It felt hotter than previous nights, so there was no fire. There was some talk of Catan, and someone had the idea of doing puzzles, probably Jennifer or Lena.
Around 9:15 or 9:30, Bruce and Erin pulled up, having completed another big commute. They had flown from Ticonderoga to Hartford, Connecticut, which apparently takes only 31 minutes by air, then down toward Hyannisport, for an evening dinner, and then back to Hartford before returning to Ticonderoga.
This was cool.
It would have been even cooler if Bruce had done the flyby he had planned in the morning.
But in typical Bruce fashion, they were apparently following the wrong lake, which was extremely disappointing to Michelangelo, who had waited at the beach for an hour for the flyby.
And with that, Wednesday came to a close.
Breakfast: spectacular.
Wind: finally arrived late.
Nonna: Hobie Cat certified by presence.
Basket weaving: surprisingly serious.
Sailing: legitimately excellent.
Docking: suspiciously competent.
Dinner: lasagna, ribs, and glory.
Tres leches cake: phenomenal.
Dodgeball: hot, sweaty, and abruptly ended by darkness.
Bruce flyby: missed due to navigational betrayal.
Chirico Extravaganza 2026
Special Alert — Day Five and 1/2
The Paine Hall Midnight Fire Alarm Incident
At approximately 12:10 AM, just as everyone was getting into bed — and many Chiricos were already fully asleep — the fire alarm in Paine Hall went off.
It was not especially loud from the second floor.
It was, however, very, very loud on the first floor.
The fancy fire alarm panel announced that it was a “Floor Two, Zone Two” alarm, which sounded both specific and entirely unhelpful. Naturally, everyone began running around the house looking for flames.
No flames were found.
No smoke was found.
No actual emergency appeared to exist.
Everything seemed perfectly safe.
So the next question became: how long is this thing going to go on?
Leave it to Vincent to figure out how to reset the alarm, at least enough to silence the deafening noise. There was still some concern, however, that the system might have automatically called the fire department. So Stephen called the number listed on the alarm unit.
After about 15 rings, someone finally answered.
Unfortunately, this person appeared to be an overnight check-in person with absolutely no useful information, authority, or urgency. They wanted Stephen’s name, phone number, home address, and the address of the building.
Stephen explained that he did not know the exact address of Paine Hall because we were in the middle of a large historic YMCA campus, not standing in front of a suburban mailbox.
The best they could offer was that a technician would call back the next day.
Which was, at that moment, of no service whatsoever.
Then a Silver Bay employee rolled up in a golf cart and gave us the news: the fire department was coming, and everyone had to evacuate so they could inspect the building.
Stephen explained that this was completely unnecessary.
The employee explained that it was protocol.
And there it was.
Protocol.
Protocol.
Protocol.
The word would be repeated again and again, as though common sense had been formally retired and replaced by a laminated checklist.
Stephen even called 911 to see if he could reason with the fire department and explain that there was no need to dispatch a fire truck. But regardless, the call had been made. The truck was already on its way. And once called, they had to respond.
Protocol.
Around 12:35 AM, the fire department arrived. It then took them about 10 minutes to walk up the driveway in full regalia, at which point a conversation quickly began about how everyone needed to leave the house.
Stephen explained that he would rather not wake his 80-year-old mother, who was sleeping on the third floor.
Again, the answer was protocol.
Stephen said he understood, but suggested that perhaps they could inspect the house first and see whether there was anything actually worth evacuating for.
Unfortunately, just as they seemed to agree, Sienna emerged with poor Nonna, who had been woken from her deep sleep and dragged into the excitement.
Erin, however, did wake up, assessed the situation, and promptly decide to go back to sleep. She never evacuated.
The rest of us stood outside under the stars, debating whether or not to start a fire in the fire pit. Michelangelo, naturally, thought this was a great idea. What he did not know — and what several others did not know either — was that Vincent had secretly placed a pack of fireworks as a prank.
Lighting a fire in front of the fire department while they inspected our historic mansion would have been questionable.
Lighting fireworks would have been worse.
After about 10 minutes, the firefighters emerged and announced that someone had apparently just taken a hot shower.
Stephen immediately knew the culprit.
Sienna.
During his earlier search through the house for signs of fire, Stephen had found Sienna in the shower. The bathroom was extremely hot and steamy. The evidence was overwhelming.
Of course, Sienna denied it.
Lena defended her. Bruce was also taking a shower. Other’s took showers too.
But history should record the truth: Sienna and her long, hot showers were the cause of the Paine Hall midnight fire alarm incident.
Eventually, everyone went back inside.
It was probably around 1:00 AM before most of us were finally able to get back to sleep.
Fire: nonexistent.
Alarm: very real.
Protocol: undefeated.
Fire department: fully deployed.
Nonna: unnecessarily awakened.
Erin: heroically unbothered.
Culprit: Sienna’s shower.
Chirico chaos: still fully operational.
Chirico Extravaganza 2026
Day Six — Thursday, July 9
Silver Bay, Lake George
Day Six began with another phenomenal CE breakfast.
This morning’s spread included eggs, sausage, salmon, lox, schmear, and lots and lots of carbs of every kind and every stripe. Bagels. Bread. Things to toast. Things to schmear. Things to justify another long day of pretending vacation is exercise.
Stephen had a couple of morning business calls to handle, and cousin Anthony joined in as well, since one of them was a business pitch that was actually kind of exciting. So while the lake was getting windy and the Chiricos were scattering into various recreational directions, a little business was conducted from the Paine Hall wrap around porch command center.
Meanwhile, the wind was ripping across Lake George, so Bruce & Erin took the Hobie Cat out.
Others were off finishing baskets and various other crafts before 1:00 PM, when everyone had to head to the ropes course.
What we had thought would be a full ropes course turned out instead to be an extremely difficult bonding exercise with one extraordinary feature: a vertical series of single 2×2 beams that had to be climbed like a giant, terrible ladder.
The beams started about three feet apart, then increased to five and six feet apart as they went higher. Each rung became progressively harder, not only because the spacing got wider, but because your arms, legs, grip strength, dignity, and emotional stability were all deteriorating at the same time.
The early winner was Madeline, who scaled all the way to the top, which was super impressive — especially since her original climbing partner, Sienna, bailed after just the third rung.
Sienna, however, would later redeem herself by making it all the way to the top with the expert assistance of Vincent, who practically created a new algorithm for climbing the thing. Leave it to Vincent to find the most efficient and intelligent way to scale a ridiculous wooden obstacle.
Other winners included Scotty and Erin, and Stephen, who made it all the way up. Lena made it about three rungs, which was still a respectable contribution to the family effort.
No surprises by Sawyer and Lium who made it. All climbs provided much entertainment and amusement but Anthony and Courtney win funniest climb of the day, thanks to the repeated “getting down on one knee” jokes every time Anthony crouched to give Courtney a boost to the next level.
It was part ropes course, part teamwork exercise, and part accidental proposal rehearsal.
Following the ropes course, which was on the far end of the property, people scattered in exactly the chaotic way they had arrived. Some biked. Some drove. Some walked. Some hiked. Everyone seemed to be going somewhere different.
Some had crafts to finish, like Lena, who needed to complete her watercolors. Some went to the beach. Others were ready for sailing. Some returned to the house just to hang out.
Stephen went to the water, grabbed a stand-up paddleboard, and paddled out to where Olivia was floating around watching Bruce play with his hydrofoil. Bruce spent quite a long time trying to get up on the hydrofoil, which is tricky under normal circumstances and apparently even trickier since he had removed the bumper — essentially the training wheels for hydrofoils.
After floating in the lake for a bit, the wind started to blow again, and Stephen got antsy. So he paddle boarded back to ready the Hobie Cat.
At the same time, Liam and Sawyer were out on the Sunfish.
Liam did quite well, especially considering his formal training consisted of approximately 45 minutes of instruction from Uncle Stephen the day before, which, in Chirico terms, basically makes him Coast Guard certified.
Sawyer, meanwhile, was having a more traditional sailing experience.
He spent quite a bit of time trying to figure out how to manage the rudder, the sail, the wind, the boat, and his own body weight all at the same time — which is hard enough before you add frustration, shouting, and the silent judgment of everyone watching from shore.
But after about an hour and a half of struggle, things started to click.
And by the next day, he was ripping.
For a while, however, Sawyer was experiencing what all Chirico sailors inevitably face at nearly every Extravaganza: the sacred sailing rite of passage.
This may include, but is not limited to, being lost and floundering in open water, floating helplessly with no wind, having a massive lake vanish out to see with the tide, swimming to shore, not having a life jacket, breaking equipment, blaming the equipment, questioning your life choices, and spending a harrowing couple of hours not knowing what the heck you are doing.
Almost drowning may also be included.
All true stories.
Eventually, if you survive long enough, you become a Chirico sailor.
Speaking of figuring it out, back on the dock, Stephen, Sienna, and Madeline tried to rig the Hobie Cat.
Anthony eventually came down to correct and supervise, which involved leaving the boat at the dock, walking over to the beach, raising the sails, and then heading back out.
Ironically, Bruce would later inform us that we had still done it incorrectly. It had something to do with one of the fancy rope names (the Halyard) , which Anthony and Stephen naturally blamed for their inability to tack properly.
Tacking, of course, is turning upwind. We could jibe downwind with no problem, but for some reason we could not cruise upwind efficiently. Sailboat logic confirmed that if the boat was not rigged correctly, yes, that would probably make a difference.
Even still, we were cruising very, very well across the lake in heavy wind.
At one point, Sienna, Madeline, Anthony, and Stephen were all on one side of the Hobie, and we were still lifting the banana pontoon out of the water, which is a tremendous amount of weight and an even greater amount of questionable judgment.
Then Sienna and Madeline jumped off to cliff jump on shore, leaving Stephen and Anthony to really send it. The Hobie lifted one banana way up, and Anthony was launched into the water.
So Stephen had to turn around and get him.
Lots of other water adventures followed: zooming back and forth in great wind, hanging out, playing music, and yelling about the optimal and most efficient way to sail. Should the rudder be pushed or pulled? Should the sail be in or out?
Were we sailing well, or merely surviving with confidence?
These questions were debated loudly and repeatedly.
On our last run, we had strategically aimed upwind so we could sail downwind into our slip. This was an actual plan, which made the next part especially funny.
Just as we entered the cove, the wind completely stopped.
Not slowed.
Not faded.
Stopped.
Dead.
There was nothing.
So for about a thousand feet, Sienna and Madeline had to swim and push us in while Anthony and Stephen sat on the bananas and paddled us toward the slip, much to the amusement of people on shore and boaters heading out on a tour.
Once back at the dock, the sails were dropped, folded, and tied. The boat was secured. The cooler was emptied and carried back up. The day’s sailing operations were complete.
We then headed back up to the house, where we were late for Michelangelo and Harlie’s dinner feast.
Tonight’s meal was Philly cheesesteak sandwiches, brie appetizers on crackers, and a sweet Ricotta cheese pudding-like topping for crispy butter bread. Of course, it was all delicious.
The evening continued on the porch, then moved to the fire. Some people went back inside. The kids played another game of Catan. There was some puzzling, and there were plenty of fireside chats until close to midnight, when it was finally time for hydration, showers, and bed.
And with that, Thursday came to a close.
Breakfast: elite.
Business calls: surprisingly productive.
Ropes course: harder than advertised.
Madeline: beast mode.
Vincent: climbing algorithm inventor.
Wind: finally ripping.
Hobie Cat: possibly rigged wrong, still glorious.
Anthony: launched.
Final docking: swim-assisted.
Dinner: cheesesteak excellence.
Fire pit: strong finish.
Hydration: necessary.
Chirico Extravaganza 2026
Day Seven — Friday, July 10
The Last Full Day at Silver Bay, Lake George
Friday, July 10 marked Day Seven of the 2026 Chirico Extravaganza at Silver Bay on Lake George — our last full day.
The morning began like all the others: with food.
Lots of bacon, sausage links, fried eggs, English muffins, sliced fruit for wishful thinking.
Stephen tended to ice duty, which had become an oddly important operational responsibility. Our tiny little ice machine, brought from home, had actually proven somewhat useful. This was impressive mainly because it does not produce much ice, but it produces just enough for people’s drinks. The ice melts quickly, but it keeps people from constantly going in and out of the freezer, which allows us to make other cubes.
The biggest savior was the deep freezer, which allowed us to make big blocks of ice to keep our many coolers somewhat cold. This was necessary because the two refrigerators on site were hopelessly packed with leftovers, condiments, drinks, mystery containers, and enough food to survive a mild regional emergency.
Morning festivities started rolling around 10:30 or 11:00, because once again, the wind was blowing!
We never did get the mandatory hike in. But when the wind blows, wind trumps all. So in essence, perhaps that was a good thing.
All week the weather really cooperated magnificently. The humidity was not low, but not as high as it could have been. The heat was just about right for lake days. And amazingly, there was no rain. Really impressive weather luck all week, despite forecasts that had consistently warned us to be prepared for wet conditions.
There had been some early morning contingencies even before breakfast. There were pickleball players and walkers, mostly spearheaded by Erin and Bruce. Scotty, Jennifer, and Nonna took a morning tennis lesson.
Most of the Smiths, including Lena and Stephen, slept in until about 9:30. Still, no one outdid Sawyer and Liam, who remained deeply committed to the art of sleeping in.
Miraculously, Sienna and Madeline were up early for their watercolor class. Sienna spent much of the day perched at the boathouse overlooking the lake, painting watercolors and listening to the religious sermons of the morning. The other large group on campus was a deeply spiritual, mission-oriented retreat, so Sienna’s peaceful watercolor session came with bonus theology at an intensity level she had previously only seen mocked in movies, parodied on sitcoms, or accidentally wandered into on YouTube.
The first ones down to the water were the sailors taking out the Sunfish boats. They got out early and reported strong winds for the rest of the day.
Sawyer and Liam basically covered the entire Lake George area near Silver Bay, sailing across the lake, around Odell Island, and back. They earned the award for most improved, considering they did not even really know how to sail at the beginning of the week and were now ripping around in real wind.
Later in the day, there was a regatta.
Uncle Bruce put up $20 for the winning boat. Due to a highly tactical jibe, Liam and Madeline took the lead going around Odell Island, while Bruce got hung up in a dead patch of wind. Erin was not far behind either, but because Liam and Madeline had raced ahead, they held their lead all the way back to Silver Bay, which was over a mile.
Sawyer and Stephen were also out there ripping it up in the afternoon, practicing high-speed tacks and high-speed jibes. Stephen manned the ropes while Sawyer handled the rudder, and together they got the boat hull almost vertical, hiking out over the edge as counterbalance pushing their abs to the limit.
Then there were Vincent and Anthony, who sailed out as well. There were a few close calls and hard leans until Anthony finally took Vincent out.
Vincent went down.
Ironically, the Silver Bay support boat came up and suggested that maybe Vincent was not good enough to sail. This was especially ironic considering Vincent is probably the best sailor on the Hobie Cat.
Vincent then took Becca out, and they ripped back and forth across the water. Since Vincent is so good, Becca somehow finds the experience relaxing, even though by all normal measures it should be adrenaline-pumping.
Scotty and Jennifer also took the Hobie Cat out.
Their ride was not relaxing.
In fact, they tipped it over.
Fortunately, they were able to right it. Unfortunately, we lost a lot of beers from the cooler, which went overboard because it was not properly secured. This was actually the first spill of the day, the second having occurred with Scotty and Anthony when the Hobie Cat capsized.
That time, the boat went up, did a wheelie, and because their weight was too far back, it went over.
This time, something broke. A line snapped or something gave way, and suddenly the Hobie Cat was no longer “fully sailable”. Or at least that’s what we said to avoid the 4 mile sail back to Hague.
But in true Chirico fashion, Scotty went out and told the boat dock people that our vessel was not seaworthy and that we needed to declare sea law and initiate an emergency evacuation plan. This plan involved carrying the boat out of the water onto land at a former dock area.
Which we did.
Despite Vincent assuring us that it was a light boat of only 300 pounds and that four guys could easily do it, the boat was still quite heavy. Also, the space between the bushes and the boat ramp was extremely narrow, which pushed Stephen into the bushes and got him all cut up.
Eventually, we got the boat safely up to the top and out of the water.
Next, we sent for Bruce’s Porsche and trailer — affectionately nicknamed Pepper, since it was a Porsche Cayenne.
First, we wheeled the trailer onto the grass. Then we lifted the boat, loaded it, dropped and folded the sails, adjusted the boom, and prepared for final extraction.
Then, taking just a little bit more liberty, Anthony fetched the car, drove it onto the large lawn, backed it up, hooked up the trailer, and drove off with Scotty riding on top of the boat and Bruce following on the One wheel.
They paraded through Silver Bay, getting quite a few looks from people who were clearly not used to Chirico ingenuity, Chirico chaos, or Chirico rule-stretching techniques.
Meanwhile, Sienna got several paintings done from her perch. Lena made more progress finishing her book all alone at the beach. Courtney, who had started feeling under the weather, went in for naps. Sienna also began feeling the effects of nonstop Chirico adventure and excitement and started getting low energy as well.
For the final meal, Stephen had strategically claimed the last night, mostly to see what kind of leftovers would be available.
And true to form, there were lots of leftovers.
Becca’s lasagna had gone fast and furious earlier in the day and barely made it past lunch. Given CE’s heavy meat, pork, and carb tendencies, we had lots of salad left from Scotty and Jennifer’s wishful-thinking BJ’s shopping.
Lena did the heavy lifting. Broccoli was roasted. A big salad was made. More chips and salsa were put out. Cheese and vegetables were offered in a noble but mostly unsuccessful attempt to sell carrots, lettuce, veggies, and hummus to a crowd that had spent the week eating meat, bread, and chips.
We also had massive amounts of chips and salsa, since apparently everyone had brought some.
And cheese.
Lots and lots of cheese.
Even after eating a significant amount of cheese all week, everyone somehow still went home with pounds of it.
There were also burgers and an entire tray of Michelangelo and Harlie’s delicious Philly cheesesteaks.
Unfortunately, what we did not have was alcohol.
Nary a seltzer could be found. No tequila remained. A few longnecks surfaced, but they were consumed pretty quickly. The local general store closed at 6:30, which was about 15 minutes before Madeline and Scotty got there.
Thus, it became a relatively dry night.
Because there had been so much sailing and other activities throughout the day, Stephen lobbied Anthony hard to do a post-dinner disc golf adventure.
And we did.
Vincent, Anthony, Stephen, and Scotty headed down to the course. There were two options: a nine-hole course in the center of the Silver Bay campus or a more adventurous 18-hole course deeper in the woods.
We wisely chose the nine-hole course, partly because of diminishing daylight, but mostly because of mosquitoes and likely poison ivy. Even on the nine-hole course, there was still plenty of poison ivy and plenty of bugs.
But it was fun.
Anthony was victorious, frisbeeing for par on most holes and ending up just two over par. Stephen followed at four over. Vincent was around five over, and Scotty was a few more over than that — or somewhere near those numbers, since we did not really keep official score.
Rather than playing a second round, we decided to jump into the chapel to catch the end of the music concert, which Nonna and Jennifer were attending.
Inside, there were about a dozen high school-aged kids playing wind and string instruments. We arrived with about 15 minutes left and enjoyed the final stretch of a very lively and fun concert. The kids did a great job.
At 10:00, it was back to the house for the usual evening festivities.
Michelangelo was, of course, obsessed with burning all the remaining wood and kept stuffing the Solo Stove ever more aggressively. There were discussions and debates over next year’s CE venue. The kids desperately wanted to play another round of Catan inside. Lena and Sienna became obsessed with solving and finishing the Broadway-themed puzzle.
Bruce and Erin did some last-minute packing and tried to find someone to drive them to the Ticonderoga airport, which no one wanted to do. Ultimately, Vincent rose to the occasion and delivered them.
Stephen tracked their flight on FlightRadar as they cruised at 12,500 feet elevation at 285 knots, making it from Ticonderoga in upstate New York back to Hartford in about 40 minutes….Pretty darn cool. But No fly by.
Back at Paine Hall, the fire was stuffed and tended until after midnight, while people slowly peeled off to bed. A little late-night cleaning and preparation took place, including making sure all ice operations were maximized for overnight ice-making capacity.
What a night.
What a week.
And with that, our last full day at Silver Bay came to a close.
Weather: shockingly cooperative.
Wind: finally useful.
Sunfish sailors: massively improved.
Hobie Cat: glorious, abused, broken, and extracted.
Beer cooler: casualty of war.
Stephen: cut up but alive.
Pepper the Porsche: pressed into maritime service.
Leftovers: abundant.
Alcohol: tragically scarce.
Disc golf: buggy but successful.
Concert: surprisingly lovely.
Firewood: nearly defeated.
Catan and puzzles: still going strong.
Chirico Extravaganza: approaching final descent.
Chirico Extravaganza 2026
Day Eight — Saturday, July 11
Checkout and Departure Day
Saturday, July 11 marked Day Eight of the Chirico Extravaganza 2026 at Silver Bay on Lake George — checkout and departure day.
The morning routine was not all that different, at least as far as Stephen could tell, since, as usual, he slept until about 9:30. There were reports of early morning walks, which is excellent, admirable, and entirely consistent with the people who apparently still had functioning legs.
By the time this journal writer made it downstairs, breakfast was already underway.
The final remnants of the well-over-a-gross supply of eggs were being cooked. The last bits of bacon were going onto the griddle. Actually, not even the last bits of bacon, because somehow we still went home with multiple packs of bacon, which is incomprehensible given the volume of bacon consumed during the week.
There was also last-minute fruit, because hope springs eternal.
Then the cleanup process began immediately, with everyone attempting to pull their weight — some, of course, more than others.
Child labor was deployed.
Push that.
Pull this.
Clean that.
Sweep here.
Carry this.
Who wants to sweep?
Who wants to pretend to sweep?
There were multiple readings of the checkout procedures, which had not really been seriously considered until late the night before. Fortunately, nothing seemed too crazy. We were supposed to strip the beds, throw towels into the showers, empty the garbage cans, and sweep.
Or, more accurately, attempt to sweep.
Because Paine Hall is not really the kind of place that ever gets truly clean. It merely gets reset to its prior historic level of dust, crumbs, and old-house mystery.
The main task was loading the cars with all of our stuff.
And we had lots of stuff.
Lots.
Clothes were strung about drying on the porch. Deck chairs were littering the lawn. Solo Stoves needed to be emptied. Blackstones had to be broken down. Coolers were packed, then obsessively repacked. Despite massive ice production efforts, people still scrambled to pack ice and food into coolers. Cars were moved around. Bags were dragged out. Random objects were claimed, questioned, abandoned, reclaimed, and shoved into vehicles.
Michelangelo had also been freezing the propane canisters so he could extract every last molecule of propane from the Silver Bay tanks.
This made Stephen very proud.
Some people see an empty propane tank.
Michelangelo sees trapped value.
It was peak Chirico efficiency: questionable science, maximum extraction, and absolutely no propane left behind.
Well done.
Puzzles that had taken hours upon hours to assemble were disassembled in minutes.
The microwave was returned to the kitchen.
Dishes were cleaned.
Garbage — lots and lots of garbage — was taken out.
And amazingly, things started to come together.
Bruce and Erin had been the first to depart the night before, flying out in peak Bruce-and-Erin fashion. The rest of us departed mostly around the same time, except for Ian and Olivia, and Michelangelo and Harlie, who wisely stuck around to enjoy one more day of paddleboarding, lake swimming, and Sunfish sailing.
This was a wise amortization of lake time.
Unfortunately for Olivia, she was also stuck taking the car and trailer back to Connecticut that Anthony and Courtney had driven up, since they were flying home and Michelangelo could not (or would not) drive it back. Naturally, there was Chirico drama.
People swept the rooms looking for left objects on numerous occasions, which was no small task given three stories, 17 bedrooms, multiple bathrooms, and the crazy hallway structure of Paine Hall.
Scotty, Jennifer, Liam, and Madeline were among the first to depart in the Subaru, since they had a Hudson Valley road trip planned on the drive down.
Vincent, Becca, and Charlie headed out in search of the Troy Farmers Market, which they used to frequent when they lived in the Capital District.
Anthony, Courtney, and Nonna left in Nonna’s Subaru. They had originally planned to follow the Vincent, but wisely aborted that plan and headed instead to Lake George Village. From there, they went on to Saratoga and even made it to the horse races, which was a very smart use of time before their 6:30 PM flight out of Albany.
Late-breaking news would later reveal that they had even more time than expected, since their Albany flight was delayed. Even later-breaking news revealed that they missed their connection in Atlanta and ultimately had to drive to Chattanooga.
This, too, can be considered part of the broader vacation experience.
Finally, Stephen, Lena, Sawyer, and Sienna drove south, with Sawyer captaining through the Lake George roads into Lake George Village. There, they met up with Nonna, Courtney, and Anthony, walked around the village, purchased a T-shirt, and had ice cream at Carvel before beginning the long drive back to New Jersey.
And with that, the great Silver Bay chapter of the Chirico Extravaganza came to an end.
In conclusion: what a week.
Unbelievable weather.
Unbelievable adventures.
No serious injuries, other than massive amounts of soreness.
Incredible amounts of gained weight, likely due to swollen livers, excessive salt intake, and the sustained consumption of meat products.
No meaningful legal missteps, especially if one does not count the fire department, the Silver Bay front desk, the boat dock personnel, or various posted signs as legal authorities.
The week had everything: sailing, swimming, archery, pottery, basket weaving, watercolor painting, pickleball, Pilates, ropes, climbing, fireworks, fire pits, Catan, puzzles, ice logistics, food logistics, boat logistics, fire alarm drama, and more family shouting than any non-Italian family would survive.
Well then, Chiricos…
Until the next Extravaganza.
ChiricoChronicles 