There is no office at which to buy a ticket for this Post Road route. It is Shanks' mare, with an independence and freedom that no other mode of travel knows. To be sure, one can also take it on horseback, by bicycle or automobile, according to fancy and finances, and, provided he does not exceed the speed limit, it matters little how he goes. The speed limit naturally differs with the individual. The writer thinks that three miles an hour is fast enough--a pace that enables one to keep his eyes on the picture and does not necessitate a continuous inspection of the road. Naturally the weather plays its part in such an open air journey, and this is particularly the case if the trip be made on foot. It is the loss of the landscape, blotted out by the mist, rather than the physical discomfort of being caught in a rain squall, that counts. In fact, if one is protected by a light rubber cape, and will take the storm philosophically with a mind to enjoy it and rise superior to the drip on his knees, there is huge satisfaction in being alone with the patter of the rain. But the loss of the landscape is serious in such country as the Post Road deals with. An instance of this comes vividly to mind in connection with the Wiccopee Pass and the plain south of Fishkill. As I first saw it of a perfect June evening, it was as delicately beautiful as a bit of silver filigree, but another time, in September, the mist hung low on the mountains. It was either raining, or had just stopped, or was about to begin again, and it had been doing that or worse all day and the day before, and that which had been a delight in June was now a matter of so many miles to be disposed of as quickly as possible. There is a local expression in these parts, applied to certain phases of the weather: "As black as a black hat", which one can better appreciate after he has seen the scowl with which an Autumn storm can sweep down these mountains. Good May or June weather and the soft delight of Indian Summer are equally enjoyable, but avoid the Ides of March, or, in other words, the days of the equinoctial.