The softer side of running

I like to trail run. Why? It’s not like running on a hard, paved road. Generally, trails are softer terrain comprised of packed dirt or grass or other natural surface. It’s a great way to get some exercise while completely immersing myself in the gorgeous landscape that I call home; listening to the birds and witnessing the seasonal changes to the Adirondack flora.

Or, in reality, I like trail running because sometimes while avoiding roots, negotiating turns and dips and rocks, I forget that I’m actually running.

So, we all know that there are thousands of miles of marked trails in the Adirondacks - from the dramatic High Peaks to the more family-focused Champlain Area Trails along Lake Champlain. For mountain biking, there are some great go-to areas with lots of varied terrain - notably the Hardy Trail network in Wilmington. That’s no secret.

But there is one multi-use Adirondack trail network that is ideal for trail running, and I completely forgot to tell you about it.

North Hudson - the New Frontier

The North Hudson Trail Center is a network of multi-use trails, welcoming snowshoers and cross-country skiers in the winter, and hikers, mountain bikers, and horseback riders in the warm months.

I don’t have a horse, so I brought my dog with me to revisit the area, but this time for trail running.

This wasn’t the first time I’d used these trails. My husband and I rode our mountain bikes here years ago, and I remembered that the trails were rolling, and mossy.

We really enjoyed the trails for biking, and we apparently took a wrong turn THAT time too.

This time, Katie the wonder dog and I arrived at the trailhead, which is near the old entrance to what used to be the Frontier Town theme park off Interstate 87 at exit 29. There is an informational kiosk that shows a map of the series of loops on both sides of Route 9N, including a small section called the “Beginner Triangle” located 180 degrees behind those looking at the sign. The 7.7 miles of trails are marked with Red, Yellow and Blue markers and intersect frequently. I took a printed map provided in a receptacle on the kiosk, but since I had been there before, Katie and I headed off without any regard for the trail map at our disposal.

Katie was on her leash, as any responsible dog would be, and we jogged slowly along the grassy, tree-lined path. The first intersection we arrived at had a sign indicating that the red trail was to the left, but it appeared that going straight ahead was the more well-worn path. We soon arrived at a part of the former theme park, the same place I’d inadvertently arrived at years before. It was the old west main street that I’d visited as a kid - now overgrown with weeds and trees. We turned back toward the red trail intersection to try out that loop.

We ran along the mossy trails for a while, but just for a few miles total, including a jaunt into the “beginner’s triangle” with its 1.2 km of flat, wide trails. It was truly a peaceful, beautiful run. Most of the trails are beginner to intermediate level - and wide enough to ride two abreast on mountain bikes, and certainly wide enough for a horse or snowmobile. And it was a primarily SOFT and mossy, comfortable running surface.

In fact, it was so nice, I hardly noticed I was running at all.

PLAN A VISIT

The Schroon Lake Region is a mecca for outdoor recreation, with plenty of hiking trails interspersed with fishing and paddling waters. The North Hudson Trail Center is located north of the Pharaoh Mountain and Hoffman Notch Wilderness Areas and adjacent to the Hammond Pond Wilderness on Route 9N.

Be sure to check out the lodging options as a base camp to check out all of these wilderness areas while you’re here!

RESOURCES

Here is an overview MAP OF THE TRAIL AREA.

Here is a MAP OF THE TRAILS.

 

 

---

 

Dog days in the ADKs:

Puppy’s first peak

Camping with canines

Year in the life of an ADK dog

Shoka’s big day out

This is dog country

Three mountains, four paws

Happy camper, happy hound

What if I told you that there is a high-caliber, challenging, meticulously-maintained 9-hole golf oasis with stunning views of the High Peaks hiding directly in the geographic middle of the Adirondacks wilderness?

It’s not intentionally hiding, but folks who visit Newcomb, New York might not immediately associate their favorite destination for hiking, biking, and paddling with the game of golf.

As it turns out, it’s not all that hard to find. Driving through the jaw-dropping landscape leading through Newcomb from any direction, you’ll involuntarily hit the brakes when you see the High Peaks Overlook. It’s a stunning, open view of the High Peaks of the Adirondacks, complete with picnic table, gazebo, and now, one of those frames with the name of the town for your Instagramming convenience.

No one will blame you for spending some time at the Overlook, but when you can pry your eyes away from the view, pan to the right. There you’ll see a sign for the High Peaks Golf Course.

177 years in the making

Follow the sign’s arrow a short drive down Santanoni Drive to the parking lot and clubhouse.

The High Peaks Golf Course opened in 2005, and is owned and operated by the Town of Newcomb, which was established in 1828. (And no, the course construction didn’t really take 177 years).

Since about 2005 then, I have heard from local golfing friends and acquaintances that the golf course in Newcomb is a must-play course. I’m not sure why it took until this year to visit in person.

A stop in to the welcoming clubhouse and pro shop sets the stage. If you’re lucky, Linda, one of the friendliest people in the world, will greet you with a big smile, as will anyone else who happens to be sitting at what looks like an old-fashioned drug store counter. She’ll set you up with information, a key to a cart, and your tee time — which is probably right away, because, somehow, the course is still kind of a secret.

There are snacks and drinks (beer too), and rumored delicious microwavable hamburgers served up here, and a small pro shop in case you want a souvenir or need a new golf glove.

Keep your eye on the ball

And then I took a look beyond the club house and toured the course itself via golf cart. There are four tees at each hole for all ages and styles of players. The healthy fairways and greens divulge the fact that the course is fully irrigated, and the rolling terrain showcases the fact that the greens are sloped and elevated.

The layout is challenging, with a lot of hills (take a cart), sneaky sand traps, and because of its location, a number of environmentally sensitive marsh areas that you’re not allowed to enter, but your ball just might.

Speaking of your ball, it’s certainly tough to keep your eye on it for a successful swing courtesy of those darn breathtaking views!

Something to disagree on

When I returned to the club house, I decided to conduct a quick survey, and asked the course manager, two members just arriving for their day’s round, Linda, and two women sitting at the counter the same question: what is the course’s signature hole?

One person responded that it’s the really long, par 5 hole #6. Another declared that it is hole #5 because of the view from the tee. Yet another chose the short 3 par hole 3, and well, let’s just say that all 9 holes have their own fan clubs. So if it’s up for grabs, I put my vote down for hole 5, too.

Something to agree on

For the quality of the play and the outstanding setting of this golf course, you’d think that they’d only let the pros play. But it’s just the opposite. This is no high falootin’ country club. Rather, you’ll feel welcome from the moment of arrival and as comfortable wearing Carhartts as fancy golf duds.

And that welcoming attitude applies to the rest of the community, too. I urge everyone to stop in and visit Dave and Ruth at Cloudsplitter Outfitters and pick up some food and other supplies while you plan a bike, hike, or paddle adventure. And don’t miss the Adirondack Interpretive Center, with accessible trails and knowledgable staff to answer your every question about the Adirondacks’ flora and fauna. A visit to the historic Great Camp Santanoni is a must, too, and it's accessible via bike, hike or wagon ride.

There’s a wonderful town beach on Lake Harris, the popular fire tower on Goodnow Mountain, and an endless number of paddling trips available, from Lake Harris to the Essex Chain Lakes, to the Hudson River.

After all, where better to tee up for all of the best outdoor adventures than the geographic middle of the Adirondacks?

 

A bison herd is a peculiar site in the eastern United States, but in the Adirondacks anything is possible.

Take Exit 29 off of Interstate 87 and drive west, toward Newcomb, for about 4 miles. Just after the Branch River leaves your side, the evergreen-laden forest opens to reveal about 40 bison in a large pasture — that's the Adirondack Buffalo Company's herd.

Two hundred years ago, it wasn't strange to see the animals scattered across the American landscape. The massive ungulates dominated the terrain from Central New York through the Midwest, and north into Alaska.

Early European settlers brought the species, which once boasted about 60 million individuals, to the brink of extinction. Old sepia-toned photographs of house-sized piles of bison skulls grant perspective to the magnitude of the slaughter, which decreased the animal's numbers to about 300 by 1900.

Bison have since made a slow and steady comeback, and now their population is a few hundred thousand. That's not bad for an animal the International Union for Conservation of Nature called a "conservation dependent species." Their range isn't close to what it used to be, but the threat of extinction has mostly dissipated.

The historical range of bison never extended into these mountains, but the beasts — the deceptively placid and gentle-looking creatures — look right at home against the Adirondack backdrop.

An open plain is rare in these parts, and this one is bordered by two fences. The double fence serves two purposes: The tall inside fence keeps the bison from escaping, and the shorter outside fence keeps people from getting too close to the bison. The height of the inside fence isn't an accident. The 1,400-pound animals can run 40 miles an hour and jump about 6 feet high.

"People don't have a concept of how strong and fast they are," Dorreen Ossenkop said. "They think they're these big, ponderous animals. Oh, no. They'll outsprint a quarter horse."

Dorreen and her husband, Steve, opened the Adirondack Buffalo Company in 1990. Standing in the gift shop, which overlooks the bison arena, Dorreen said she's seen the animals in action. One day, a particularly determined female decided the grass looked better on the other side of the fence, so she leaped over it. Steve set about making the fence higher, and the next day Dorreen watched as the same bison slowly surveyed the perimeter.

"She walked all the way around until she found one spot where there was no extra board, and she did it again," Dorreen said.

Steve was born and raised on a dairy farm, but he was always fascinated by bison. About 25 years ago, the couple decided to go for it. They wanted something different, and that's what they got — the creatures are intelligent, curious, and surprisingly agile.

"Most animals will pivot on their front feet or back feet; buffalo will pivot on any foot," Dorreen said. "I have on two occasions seen them get startled by something, and they jump up in the air, and when they hit the ground running they're facing in the opposite direction. They're like a cat. They do it so fast you can barely see the movement."

Once bison put some distance between themselves and whatever startled them, they turn to face it. That's when they determine whether to ignore, flee, or attack. One of the times Dorreen saw this play out, the bison picked the first option and went about their business. The offending animals were Canada geese that broke into a hissing, honking fit when the inquisitive bison wandered too close.

A herd of bison is not a random assortment of animals. There's a social hierarchy that determines which individual gets the best resources available. If the dominant female likes the look of a spot another bison is lounging in, it will yield to her when she approaches. The dominant female also gets first dibs on food, and when she's finished she'll move on to the next best batch, leaving whatever's left of the first for whoever's next in the pecking order.

In nature, those lower on the ladder could go hungry. The Ossenkops can't let that happen — they have a business to run — so everyone eats.

When the animals are old enough they're sent away to be processed, and the meat is sold at the shop, along with things like jams, pies, cookies, sauces, quilts, furniture, books, and dairy products. It's a smorgasbord of mostly Adirondack-themed items and just like the bison, most of it is produced locally.

In the summer, there's even a display straight out of a farmers' market that's loaded with fresh produce.

Dorreen explained that the Adirondack Buffalo Company is more than a bison farm — it's a place where local artisans can sell their wares and where visitors can observe the curious creatures from a safe distance.

The Adirondack Buffalo Company is conveniently located on the way to other regional delights. Stop by the next time you decide to hike, paddle, or attend an event in the Schroon Lake Region.

 

A change of plans

This hike was a fusion of revisiting locations for me, but for Jim it was completely new territory. We had planned on a different hike in the area, but if bad weather were to persist I had this location as a back-up. So rather than stomp around the Hudson River Gorge Primitive Area in foul weather we ended up in the Vanderwhacker Mountain Wild Forest. It had been several years, actually more than a decade, since I'd been to Rankin Pond and on a couple of the nearby peaks. It was certainly the right time to visit an old friend.

Crusher Hill is “something old”

Crusher Hill is one of the small peaks I visited some time ago, making it “something old” for the day (and you thought I was talking about Jim). We wouldn’t actually set foot on a trail until the end of the day. With Crusher Hill directly over us, we opted for the direct route of attack. We walked about 50 feet to the right of the trail register, jumped the berm and hit the woods. We love this region for its open forest, and in its current state of leafless November it was like a walk in the park. The dull sky above us didn’t cast a shadow and the threat of rain was hanging over our heads, but we would roll with the punches as we so often have in the past.

It wasn’t long before we crested what was left of the small hill and stood atop the open rise, looking through the leafless trees at the surrounding mountains of the region. We didn’t hang around because we still felt like we were racing the weather. The dark clouds billowed above us and a cool northerly breeze hit us on the cheeks with that crisp smell of fall in the air. We could see Balfour Lake below us — we would seek that out next.

Balfour Lake is “something blue”

We dropped off of Crusher Hill on a soft bed of leaves resembling a footing of sheer ice, but even with every effort to remain in the vertical position we failed. It wasn’t long before we gained the drainage of Rankin Pond. Before us stood a two-tiered beaver marsh — flooded too deep and too wide to hop, we would have to head downstream to find a good place to access the other side. The thick lining of spruce and fir made passage a bit slower, but in a short amount of time we managed to find a few rocks to hop, which provided a dry outcome to our crossing.

We kept following the drainage as the forest opened up around us and a sharp edge to the tree growth gave us the added pleasure of adventure. We descended ever so slightly and came upon an old forest road, maybe a carriage road to an old camp. While easy to follow, toppled trees blocked it from easy passage. Mud and running water infiltrated our boots. Balfour Lake below us called our name, but we waited to reach the small finger bay before we would take to its shore. The lake is a massive body of placid water, gleaming before us, and the camps on the opposite side lined the shore. A few pictures later we returned to the old carriage road. Now following an inlet to Balfour Lake, we climbed steadily to a high saddle between Balfour Mountain and Rankin Pond Mountain.

Balfour Mountain is “something new”

New to me, and new to Jim, we were excited to see what was in store for us on Balfour Mountain. The carriage road all but disappeared in the col near a small seep, so we were now on our own. The destination of the carriage road was now apparent as we stood near an old stone foundation.

From here it would be a moderate hike through more open forest. As we penetrated the countryside I would reflect on my past outings in the area and wonder why I never made my way to Balfour Mountain. Its summit lies so close to the main highway and quite close to other peaks I had visited.

The summit of Balfour consists of two nearly identical bumps, but looking at the map it was unclear which one was higher and by how much. I guess we would just have to visit them both. The first one was clogged with entwined mountain ash, which made it tough to move through, but with pushing and pulling we stood atop this wooded island. It appeared the other small knob was just slightly less than a quarter-mile away in an “as-the-crow-flies” direction. We would be there very quickly. With minimal descent off of the other side, we could see it from the shallow saddle. This top was totally different than the last. It was spruce covered, not densely so, but still a totally different tree growth. We dropped a bit to the lake side and managed to grab a slight view toward Green Mountain and Hewitt Pond Mountain. Again, the summit was wooded, but at least we found a decent viewing platform.

We moved off and over the first summit back to the col between Balfour and Rankin Pond Mountain. The descent was a bit more to the west than our climb just a few minutes prior, and to our pleasure it was much more open. In fact, it was a wonderful stand of hardwoods.

Rankin Pond Mountain is another “something old”

We were down quite fast off Balfour Mountain and along the way we came across another old foundation-type structure. It might have even been an old stone pile from a property corner. Just beyond this was the old carriage road we followed earlier, this time in fine condition and ever-so-obvious. We would not follow it this time as it passed over the valley toward the Boreas River (destination unknown, but we sure were curious). After crossing a narrow wetland by hopping from tufts of sedge to decaying logs, we made it across no wetter than we already were.

The climb up Rankin was hardly noticeable, aside from one steep section that lasted all of a few hundred feet. I remember finding views off of this 2,265-foot summit, or at least near the summit, and I was hoping to find more of the same. Then it happened — there was some sort of bright object in the sky, almost blinding and nearly disorienting, but we were not so sure what it was and then it was gone. Come to find out later it was the sun, but it had been so long since we saw it we were confused.

Rankin Pond is another “something blue”

Our last destination of the day was Rankin Pond, where we picked up the trail back to the car, but first we would have to get off the top of this guy. We started to descend toward Little Rankin Pond, but the day was getting shorter and the darkest of the day's clouds started to spit on us a bit. To avoid a drenching, we ended up veering back toward the Rankin Pond outlet to shorten the course. The outlet in this area was actually right near where we crossed it earlier in the day, and thankfully downstream from the beaver flood zone.

We walked the outlet up to the beaver village to get a closer look. The rain had subsided again so we felt more freedom to explore. The flooded area was quite large with additional tiers of small ponds with green, moss-covered, downed logs and standing snags. It was picturesque. Soon we came to a long finger of Rankin Pond, which was still over a quarter-mile away from the end of the trail. We walked the shore as best we could but the growth was thick. Until we finally found a fisherman’s path, we had a heck of a time of it.

We took some photographs of the pond but as gloomy as it was, they weren’t all that great. Finally, and I say finally with a slight sigh of relief, we were on the trail. This path looked to be used quite often, but not maintained equally as much. Several pieces of downed branches and full trees covered parts of the trail. They had been there so long paths were developed around them. Too big for us to move, we had to use the paths as well. The trail is only 0.4 miles or so from pond to road, so as you can imagine we made quick work of it and were back at the car in no time.

I was chilled from the damp weather and the sweat on my back, and a slight shiver in my spine made me jittery for a hot cup of coffee. We would head into town and grab that as soon as humanly possible — with a couple squares of a Hershey’s chocolate bar melted in, it would be heaven.

 

Eric Bright is a Schroon Lake-based luthier with an eye for detail and a set of snorkeling gear. The wood he uses comes from the muck on the bottom of the lake; his guitars produce a timeless sound that's as soft as the ripples on the water's surface. It all takes attention, dedication, and time. Lots and lots of time.

Eric's story begins 150 years ago, when logging was big business in the Adirondacks. As timber companies competed for the forest, lakes and rivers became congested superhighways for their cargo. Massive tree trunks, stripped of their branches and foliage, were floated downriver to the mills in Glens Falls, where they were processed. Each log had several log marks pound into its end to identify the company it belonged to.

The first log drive to happen in the Adirondacks was on the Schroon River in the early 1800s. They became more commonplace as time went on, and thanks to grainy black-and-white photographs, we can take a glimpse into that chaotic scene — thousands of logs jostling for space, haphazardly arranged like wooden toothpicks scattered across the water’s surface. Most logs made the long journey to the mill, but some became submerged, sinking to the bottom of the lake where they found a new home in the soft sediment there.

Now it’s 2018, and a lot has changed. The northern end of Schroon Lake has been developed into a thriving little community filled with shops and restaurants. There’s an expansive, sandy beach that’s packed with sun-loving people all summer long, and the water is blue and shimmering. Gone are the days of logging camps and log jams, but deep below the lake’s surface the remnants of a bygone era remain — until Eric finds them.

The walls of Eric’s showroom, BassRock Guitars, are lined with about 10 guitars at any given time. Ask him and he’ll tell you their names — there’s Gloria, Rose, and Lila Grace. Each is as beautiful as its neighbor, all are carefully designed and handcrafted by Eric, in his workshop across the lake. Before they get there, though, the wood used to make them has to be pulled from the depths of Schroon Lake.

Going deep

The logs Eric uses are called sinkers, and he generally pulls them from water that’s about 10 feet deep. Once he’s found one that’s the right size, just over 13 feet and at least 14 inches in diameter, he holds his breath and dives to it with a heavy rope. Working quickly, he works his arms into the sediment and loops the rope around the trunk. That creates a cloud of debris, so if he goes up for air before the rope is in place he has to wait for the cloud to settle before heading back down.

Once the rope is secure, Eric returns to the boat and, with the help of his daughter, pulls the line taut. Then they wait.

“There’s a lot of suction down there, so Kate drives the boat until the rope is taut and we wait a few minutes," Eric said. "When the butt end of that log pops up, we tow it back to shore."

The waterlogged logs are left to air dry, then Eric’s friend cuts them down to size. Sometimes the wood is maple, other times it’s red spruce, a species that was made the gold standard for guitars by Martin Guitars.

Eric says the variety is good because hardwoods like maple make the best guitar bodies, and softwoods like spruce make the best guitar faces. The different types of wood add to the aesthetics of the finished instrument, but the hardwood-softwood combo gives the guitar its voice.

“A good guitar is a machine; there are lows, mids, and highs,” Eric said. "The sides and back have to be a hardwood because there's 180 pounds of pressure on the bridge, but the top is the most important part of the sound."

Eric taps around the softwood face of a guitar and listens for the clear notes it emits. To hear him describe it, a guitar is like a living thing. Each individual instrument has its own nuanced tones, which eventually adapt to its owner’s playing style. The vibration of the strings interacts with the grain of the wood, and the instrument evolves and grows as it’s strummed.

“Some people say if you play a certain style the guitar will learn to resonate that way," Eric said. "It sounds a little extreme but it makes a little sense, too. You are teaching the guitar how you play." 

A workshop with a view

It’s a short walk to the shore of Schroon Lake from the BassRock Guitars showroom. From the long wooden dock it’s a 5-minute trip by motorboat to Eric’s workshop, a roomy basement space overlooking the water that’s packed full of tools and wood. There are forms for guitar faces and bodies, labeled stacks of wood, and collections of wood burls. The burls are natural, knobby formations that grow on trees. Often used to make tables and bowls, Eric likes how their irregular features add a distinct touch to his guitars. He often uses them for the bridge, the part of the guitar that holds the strings to the face.

He looks for irregular grain patterns, too, and sees them as an opportunity to give the instrument it’s own personality. Sometimes he fills small holes with pieces of burl, other times he brings in mother of pearl. It all depends how the wood speaks to him.

"A new guitar, you might have grain from the spruce going in one direction and grain from the hex bracing going the other way, so they could be fighting each other," Eric said. "But what happens over time, as the guitar opens up, is all of the grain learns to resonate together. After awhile it resonates as one piece of wood."

 

If you hit the town after a day of hiking or paddling in the Schroon Lake Region, you might see Eric playing with his band, The Log Jammers. To see his guitars, make an appointment with BassRock Guitars.

 

By: Kathryn Woebber Behuniak

I’ve been hiking for so many years that I’ve forgotten the excitement and freshness of being new to the mountains. One good way to get that feeling back is to take a new hiker into the woods. Hubby and I had family visiting from Buffalo, where there aren’t too many mountains. Our 14-year-old nephew Jonathan had never climbed anywhere in the Adirondacks and our job as a responsible aunt and uncle was to introduce him to the mountains we love so much.

Goodnow Mountain’s Fire Tower

The day was overcast at the start, with leftover sprinkles from a soaking shower the night before. That meant the hike started out wet, but Jonathan didn’t seem to mind. He was wearing borrowed hiking boots and I was concerned the size might not be exact and he’d get a blister. Any small thing could turn someone off to hiking right from the start and I didn’t want that to be the case. But he wasn’t bothered by the borrowed boots either. In fact, he was taking to this whole hiking thing like the proverbial fish to water and I think we were actually holding him back. When he offered to carry my fully laden backpack, I turned it over to him in an instant, quickly learning that having a Sherpa is very nice, indeed! I made great time up the mountain without the weight of lunch, snacks, water and my camera. Better yet, the weight of the pack didn’t slow Jonathan down at all, and it gave him the full hiking experience!

Our group of three made it to the summit in about an hour. I’d hiked Goodnow many times before and this was a pretty quick trip by my standards. It must have been because I wasn’t carrying a pack, but it also could have been because I didn’t want a new hiker to show me up so I just had to keep up with the teenager! For a brief time, we had the top to ourselves. We knew a rather large group was on the way (because we passed them on the trail), so we took advantage of the solitude and climbed to the top of the fire tower before it got crowded.

In the 1900s, mountains with fire towers were the homes of fire wardens who usually lived in a cabin near or on the summit. The wardens would keep an eye out over the surrounding area for fires, oftentimes as a result of lightning strikes, and they would communicate with wardens in other nearby fire towers. The practice was abandoned later in the 20th century, but many of the steel fire towers remain. In this age of lists and challenges, such as becoming a 46er or a Saranac 6er, there is also the Fire Tower Challenge. Goodnow Mountain is one of the peaks on that list. Unlike some other tower topped summits, Goodnow’s tower and cab is fully accessible. Actually, there isn’t much of a view from Goodnow’s summit unless you climb at least the first two sections of ladders. On a windy day, reaching the tower’s cab can require calming some nerves if you have a real fear of heights. Fortunately, this was not a windy day.

Conquering Fear

Jonathan had told us before the hike that he was afraid of heights. We assured him that standing on the mostly enclosed, treed summit would not cause any anxiety. We also told him about the fire tower. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t want to climb it. Hubby, who shares his nephew’s fear of heights, coaxed Jonathan about halfway up – his usual stopping point. I was already in the cab. On his own, Jonathan decided to make a run at the tower. He did it – albeit nervously – and was able to enjoy the 360-degree views of the High Peaks, Goodnow Flow, Rich Lake, and the Town of Newcomb. Then he scurried back down. One of the great things about getting kids out on the trails is building confidence without pushing, and letting them realize they are capable of far more than they think. I think Jonathan was pretty proud of himself for conquering his fear and we were happy to help him along.

Remembering Earlier Hikes

As we made our way back down the mountain, I was reminded of the days when our kids were young and we were new at exploring different peaks. We started with very small walks in the woods and worked ourselves up from there. Severance Hill, just north of the Village of Schroon Lake, was one of the first hikes our family tried. When you’re introducing someone to hiking, you want it to be fun and interesting. The trail for Severance starts by walking through a large culvert pipe under the Adirondack Northway. What could be more cool than listening to cars roaring by overhead? And after just over a mile, you’re at the summit with magnificent views of Schroon Lake. Fun and interesting. The bonus for our kids, and the incentive to hike back down under their own steam, was the promise of an ice cream somewhere. In Newcomb, after Goodnow, that ice cream was at Scoops on the corner of Route 28N and Bissell’s Loop, at the Campsite Road.

Hiking with Jonathan, and seeing his willingness to explore, reminded me of why I hike. I remembered those nights before a big hike when I could barely sleep because I was so excited to get on the trail. It sounds crazy since we were usually getting up around 4 a.m. and the day ahead promised to be very long, but it was like the night before Christmas to me. I was going to be spending time with my family, doing something I loved. Sharing the woods with people you care about is a lot of fun. Sharing the hiking experience with someone who’s never done it before, and having him enjoy it just as much, feels awesome. And I’m pretty sure Jonathan enjoyed it, because afterwards he proclaimed, “I think I want to hike Mt. Marcy.” And so it begins for another new hiker.

Ready to hike your first peak? Whether you want to do a quick family-friendly loop or a longer, full-day adventure, the Schroon Lake Region has plenty of hikes to choose from!

Historic crown jewel

History buffs have long known the Newcomb area to be a destination rich in heritage. One of the crown jewels of the region is Great Camp Santanoni and the Santanoni Preserve. In 1892 Robert and Anna Pruyn of Albany, New York, began construction of their dream retreat deep in the Adirondack wilderness. Pruyn was president of Embossing Company, a major toy manufacturer of the late-nineteenth and early-twentieth centuries. Pruyn also served as a member of the NYS Board of Regents and for 46 years was also President of National Commercial Bank of Albany, now known as Key Bank. He and his staff became very successful investors in that time period. He was a member of the extended family of the famed Finch Pruyn paper company, holders of vast tracts of land around Hamilton and Essex Counties, a large portion of which have been purchased by New York State and added to the Adirondack Park landholdings. The Robert Pruyn family enjoyed the Santanoni Preserve for well over 50 years.

Prior to its purchase by a land conservancy group and ultimately New York State in 1972, the Pruyn’s Santanoni Preserve included nearly fifty structures on almost 13,000 acres of land. After leaving the Gate-house just off route 28N in Newcomb, the 5-mile dirt road leading to the main camp traverses some of the most beautiful forestland in the Adirondacks and crosses several streams, ultimately ending at the main compound on the shore of Newcomb Lake. The compound included an experimental farm located approximately 1 mile into the road leading to the main house. The farm provided most all of the food served at Santanoni, including bacon, ham, milk, beef, and a wide array of vegetables and fruit. Many of the original farm buildings are still standing and in relatively good condition and are slowly being stabilized and preserved. They include a creamery and smokehouse as well as farm foreman’s residence and others. The cattle barn burned to the ground on July 13, 2004, in what was suspected to be an arson fire.
Here's what's left of the cattle barn:

The main complex

The central lodge is a grouping of six separate buildings—the main living and dining lodge with two bedrooms upstairs; four sleeping cabins with a total of seven bedrooms; and a kitchen and service building with seven staff bedrooms. All these were connected by a common roof and porch. The porches alone occupy 4,000 square feet of space. 1500 spruce trees were used in the massive log structures. Santanoni is an amazing example of rustic Adirondack Architecture and classic log construction.
Surrounding the main lodge on the lake shore are a boathouse and an artist's studio. In the woods behind the main lodge was another caretaker's home, a workshop, an ice house, and an assortment of service buildings. A little farther away, on the road from the farm, were two more staff houses and another horse and carriage barn. Many of these structures are unfortunately no longer standing.

Santanoni is designated as a State Historic Site, a National Historic Landmark, and is on the National Register of Historic Places. Adirondack Architectural Heritage (AARCH) has been directly involved with its restoration and protection as well as interpretation of the preserve. AARCH offers several tour opportunities with interpretive guides throughout the year, including three during the winter.

AARCH tours

In September, as part of the Teddy Roosevelt Weekend, AARCH offered a weekend of guided tours. We jumped on board for the Sunday morning wagon ride and tour. The best part — it was free this weekend! If you’ve never been, it’s a great way to get to the camp if you aren’t inclined to hike, bike, or ski the approximate 10-mile round trip on the road. The rather large group gathered on Sunday morning at the Santanoni Gatehouse, just off route 28N. We were greeted by none other than Teddy Roosevelt!

(Greetings by none other than Teddy Roosevelt!)

Two wagons soon arrived, one drawn by two imposing Belgian draft horses, the other by a spectacular trio of Haflingers — an Austrian breed, the smallest of all draft horses. To arrange your own wagon ride into the preserve you can contact Newcombe Farm at 518.639.5534.

As we loaded in the wagon, everyone was excited at the prospect of a quick way to get to Santanoni Great Camp. My husband and I had ridden our bikes in several years before. It was a great ride, although if you’re out of shape be advised … there is a long downhill on the way in that is just so much fun. However, when leaving on the return, that long downhill becomes a looooooooong uphill!! It’s not so much steep as it is long - about a mile or two. Once we got going in the wagon we hadn’t realized that the horse-drawn wagons go a LOT slower than a bicycle does. In reality it took nearly two hours to get to the main camp. Given that the average human walking speed is 3.1 miles an hour, one could conceivably walk those 5 miles a bit faster than riding in a wagon. Don’t get me wrong, the wagon ride was pretty cool, but if you are capable of walking the 12 miles round trip, and you don’t really want to sit for two hours, it might be faster. We did stop at the location of the farm buildings for about 10 or 15 minutes to explore that area, so that added some time to the trip in.

The ride in

At any rate, the wagon ride was beautiful and we actually got to look around more because we weren’t speeding along on our bikes watching the road for bumps that could land us in the ditch if we weren’t alert. The primarily deciduous forest was awash with sunshine on this spectacular mid-September day, causing dappling and dancing starburst lighting on the trees and little brook that follows the road. As we approached the main camp area, we crossed a stone bridge, allowing us views up into the Duck Hole (great for paddling we are told - if you can get your boat there), and out onto Newcomb Lake on the other side. Along the road in that area were a couple of very nice grassy campsites (first-come, first-served, and free) complete with stone fireplaces and picnic tables.

Put this on your bucket list

Visiting Great Camp Santanoni should be high on everyone’s list of things to do. The ongoing restoration and stabilization is, of course, a work in progress. The buildings are open round the clock all summer until around Columbus Day, when they start closing and shuttering them for winter. You can walk through and see the buildings any time you arrive there. The main floor of the main house, the boathouse, the artist studio, and two of the buildings at the farm location are all open for exploring. Yes, there are rules for visiting - respect the historic buildings and treating them as an historic site should be treated. The big one is you can’t sleep in the buildings. There are other guidelines as well that you can find on the AARCH web page about Santanoni Preserve.
If you go, bring a lunch and drinks as it’s a pretty full 6-hour (or more) trip to fully explore and enjoy the experience. There are picnic tables on the main lodge porches for enjoying a meal in shade and comfort. Take time to wander through the buildings and imagine yourself enjoying a summer vacation here in the early 1900s. Skiing the road in winter offers a completely different perspective. Read this blog about the winter ski experience.

The boathouse

One of the best parts of the compound is the boat house, which was restored in recent years from very poor condition. Inside the boathouse are several canoes, a rowboat, and a single kayak that are available for use by anyone -— again, first-come, first-served. There are life jackets and paddles at the ready for exploration of Newcomb Lake. Definitely take advantage of this wonderful amenity! We didn’t have time to do so on our visit, but we’ll go back for this. Exploring Newcomb Lake by boat is not easy without these boats - it’s a very long carry to get your own boat in there.

(Inside the boathouse - the small fleet of boats available for anyone to use on a first-come, first-served basis.)

Our AARCH guide clued us in to the fact that the westerly-facing location and design of the house utilizes the late afternoon sunlight, which lights up all the rooms facing the lake in the late afternoon. So that’s a great time to visit just for that reason. Many design features were created based on observations Robert Pruyn had made of Japanese architecture while traveling in Japan with his father when he was 14. The experience influenced his lifetime fascination with Japanese culture and art and influences many aspects of the Preserve structures.

Below are several photos from around the main camp area, both inside and outside the buildings.

(Looking at the main camp from the shore of Newcomb Lake)

(View of Newcomb Lake from the front of the main camp)

(Fireplace in main lodge of Santanoni)

(The expansive porches of Santanoni occupy over 4,000-square feet - this is only a small portion!)

(Refrigeration and walk-in cooler. Room on left was the smoked meat storage. It still smells like bacon!)

(DEC Historic Preservation employee Jennifer Betsworth (green sweater) gave the tour and history of Santanoni)

(This corner of the front porch is dedicated to painting restoration by summer interns)

(The upper porch roof construction allows sunlight in to bathe the interior and porch areas in late afternoon light)

A sad ending to private ownership of Santanoni

The history of private ownership of Camp Santanoni has a sad ending. A family by the name of Melvin, from Syracuse, NY, purchased the estate in 1953. In 1971, the Melvin and extended family members were gathered at the estate for one last time before the property was to be sold to New York State. On July 10th some of the family, including 8- year-old Douglas Legg, a grandson of one of the Melvins, set out on a hike. Douglas was supposedly improperly dressed for the outing and was sent back a couple hundred yards to the camp to put on long pants and proper shoes. He was never seen again. One of the biggest manhunts in New York State history ensued, with no results. To this day, there has been no trace of Douglas Legg found.

For a complete history of the Santanoni Preserve, visit the AARCH website. There you can download a pdf file: “A Visitor’s Guide to Camp Santanoni”, which includes a detailed history of the compound. The AARCH site also has a map for you to explore.

If you plan a winter trip to Santanoni, read this blog about skiing the wagon road to the camp. It's just as beautiful in the winter. AARCH conducts winter tours on three weekends during winter: Martin Luther King, Presidents' Day, and mid-March.

(Skiing the wagon road to Santanoni is a beautiful way to spend a day in winter!)

Plan a weekend or weekday overnight to visit the rich historic destinations in and around Newcomb. Explore the area's lodging options and make your plans soon!

Picture this: the first light of dawn painting the sky as the lakes and ponds come alive with the promise of a new catch. In these waters, every moment holds the potential for a new adventure. As the sun sets, casting a golden glow over the landscape, and the moon rises,  the stage is set for an unforgettable fishing experience. But where to begin? Fear not, for hidden within the tranquility of these waters lie secrets awaiting discovery. From the shelter of downed trees to the lily pads, from the weed edges to the presence of a dock, each "fishy" spot is a doorway to excitement. These are the structures that our fish LOVE. So, grab your gear, embrace the call of the wild, and embark on a journey to unlock fishing in the Adirondacks!

Fish Species to Explore

Small and Largemouth Bass

When it comes to freshwater fishing, few species are as prized as the small and largemouth bass. These predators offer exciting fishing battles.  Smallmouth bass prefer rocky habitats in depths ranging from 5 to 35 feet, while largemouth bass are often found lurking around the edges of weed beds. To increase your chances of success, vary your depth and target areas with irregularities like points, drop-offs, or submerged structures.

Brook Trout 

For anglers seeking a challenge, few experiences rival the pursuit of brook trout. These elusive beauties are known for their vibrant colors and spirited fights. To find them, seek out covers such as submerged logs or the edges of bogs, where they can hide from predators while waiting for unsuspecting prey. Don't be afraid to explore the entire pond, as brook trout also are found cruising in open waters. Did you know there are so many different types of trout! 11 in North America alone! 

Northern Pike

As the dog days of summer arrive, it's time to set your sights on the northern pike. These apex predators thrive in the depths of lakes, particularly in areas with thick underwater vegetation known as "cabbage patches." Late August is prime time for pike fishing, so gear up and get ready for an adrenaline-pumping adventure.

Top Lakes for Angling Adventures

Schroon Lake

We all know Schroon Lake but did you know it offers a diverse range of fishing opportunities? From lake trout to smallmouth bass, this picturesque destination has something for everyone. It has access points at both ends of the lake and is perfect for loading and unloading your boats. Boat launches include Schroon Lakes' on Dock St and the southern tip in Pottersville. If you’d rather fish from shore that's not a problem both have shoreline and dock areas for you to fish from!

Paradox Lake

Located just a few miles from Schroon Lake, Paradox Lake beckons with its tranquil waters and abundant fish populations. Anglers can target species like lake trout, rainbow trout, and smallmouth bass amidst beautiful scenery. Accessible via DEC Paradox Lake Campground, this gem promises unforgettable fishing experiences year-round.

Lake Harris

Lake Harris boasts a rich diversity of fish species and stunning views. Whether you're after northern pike or walleye, this expansive lake offers endless possibilities for anglers of all skill levels. With convenient access points and ample parking at the public boat launch on Beach rd,  it's easy to embark on your fishing adventure.

Balfour Lake

Tucked away in a secluded corner between Minerva and Newcomb, Balfour Lake offers a peaceful retreat for anglers seeking solitude and serenity. While shoreline fishing is limited, adventurous souls can launch canoes or kayaks from the state access point to explore the lake's waters. With a bit of luck and patience, you may even reel in a trophy trout or bullhead to brag about back home.

Fresh Bait!

Fresh bait can be found at local gas stations along the way or you can stop in at Cloudsplitter Outfitters in Newcomb or Schroon Lake Bait and Moore for live bait and local tips on fishing around the area! 

*Be sure to have your fishing license and gear with you! The 2024 Free Fishing Days are June 29-30, September 28, and November 11.

The Adirondacks are rich in fishing opportunities! Spend a day outdoors and enjoy the scenery. Afterward, make your way into town and enjoy a delicious meal. May I suggest....fish and chips? 

When it comes to exploring there isn’t much I won’t do to find that hidden gem or secluded view, and in doing so I sometimes don’t use my best judgement. Of course most days start out with a solid plan, and that plan usually works out to be a good one and we go with it, BUT...

Simply put, the winter of 2016 has not been all that predictable and snow conditions have varied quite a bit. We had a plan to head south of Schroon Lake, back into the Lake George Region for this little outing. The peaks we eyed weren’t far from Schroon Lake, so the drive was an easy one and we quickly found ourselves at the Deer Leap Trailhead, our meeting spot.

Arriving in the Lake George Wild Forest

Back to the plan: We were going to hike up and over a couple of mountains and finish off on Bloomer Mountain, which is right near our meet-up spot. Once we started going to the other trailhead we found out it was not plowed and this would add some distance to our hike. I decided rather than rush the day, which was getting older, we would instead venture up onto Indian Mountain and maybe over toward Spruce Mountain if things went OK.

Parking the car along the end of the plowed section of Split Rock Road, we started our trek. We left the snowshoes in the car, placing high hopes that the thick January crust layer would suffice. There was a wonderful contrast between the sky and the snow, and the projected heat of the day was starting to settle in. We arrived swiftly for the meeting at Jabe Pond Road, which was the other road we had hoped would be plowed.

Continuing down Jabe Pond Road on foot, we crossed a hollow and started to climb to a height-of-land. This was our leap-off point for Indian Mountain. This Native American inspired mountain was certain to please as we pondered the rock opening in front of us. We scramble up the slopes, out onto the open rock, and within a couple minutes of leaving the road we were rewarded with an outstanding view of Lake George and the Green Mountains of Vermont. Perched high above the valley we soaked it all in. The sun was starting to soften the snow and we started to leak as well, so removing a layer or two was in perfect order.

The remaining distance to the summit of Indian was not overwhelming in the least, and along the way we happened to enjoy additional small views in all directions. This summit consisted of a narrow ridgeline with gnarly trees dotting its slopes, a unique atmosphere indeed. Views became slightly screened but we could see our surroundings as the irregular system of mountains they were. We wanted more.

Beavers love the mountains too

Due to our rapid ascent of Indian Mountain we had time to head over toward Spruce Mountain, but upon further inspection of our map the summit seemed to rest on easement lands. It was unclear if those easement lands were open to the public for recreation (come to find out later they don't appear to be). Nevertheless, we would head in that direction and follow the col out back to the car if need be. During our steep descent off of Indian we gandered at Spruce and noticed an open rock wall with stellar viewing potential well below the summit and well within the state land boundary. We decided to go for it.

The descent continued to be steep, then ridiculously steep, and then a sheer drop. We didn’t expect such conditions on this little guy but with the unexpected comes the adventure. We navigated the top of the cliffs with care and precision, and then eventually we found a safe opening down. The col in between these two peaks of the Lake George Wild Forest was nothing short of breathtaking. A beaver clan had made a small village down there and the flowage looked deep beneath the sheet of ice. I am not a fan of walking on ice, even when I know it is safe enough for a truck, but a truck doesn’t have the luck I tend to have on frozen liquids.

I hugged the shore as I passed over beaver canals and dead trees. Around each bend its openness and picturesque settings were worthy of nothing less than two dozen pictures. I think Jim’s camera caught on fire at one point. Finally I reached a beaver dam — the one causing all my mental chaos — whose structure I trusted. As the ice cracked along the side from my weight prying up on the sticks, I knew I had made the right choice. Jim, on the other hand, didn’t like the security of solid ground and used the ice for a final section. We could hear the cracks beneath him, disconcerting as it was. Clenched up he hurried to shore, dry this time.

Some of the best views around

We had a steep climb ahead of us, and as the cliffs started to grow closer and closer the terrain began to become an ‘all-fours’ ordeal. We looked ahead to see if we could find a shoot through the rock structure or if we would have to go around. My sense of adventure found a small possibility and we went for it.

Upon wary footing on steep, frozen slopes we slowing reached what looked like an ideal spot from below. I now doubted my intentions. My full winter pack was pulling me back as I fought to get purchase with my boots. Only a small lip aided me in this and that was not all that promising or secure. My camera bag at my hip hindered me and pushed me back from the rock shelf, leaving me unbalanced. I had to remove it. I handed it to Jim, whose property value was a simple foot hold on a tree root. He was not so enthusiastic either. I am not a rock climber, nor do I pretend to be one, but at times the adventure of a tough scramble clouds my good decision. A slip would have meant the production of a Jimbo pancake and a steep tumble of tens of feet to the valley below. A tumble for which I would be truly sore for days, one for which I avoided as I finally had enough grip to push off and step up to a secure location.

It was now Jim’s turn; he would have none of that. He handed up my camera case using our trekking poles and began walking the base of the cliffs looking for a smarter approach to the top. I continued on to complete two smaller scrambles, which were easy in comparison. Upon the rocky ridge I finished off my attack to gain the view, and what a view. Jim found a gully, loaded with snow and a gentle grade, that was a much easier approach than mine.

We hung around this rocky outcropping for nearly an hour with the sun warming our skin and the view warming our hearts. We listened to the raven cawing below us and off in the distance the rat-tat-tat of a woodpecker looking for food filled our ears. With hot beef bouillon inside me warming that portion of my body we had to head off.

We used the state land boundary to guide us off of the mountain. It was hard to locate in most areas, but we did our best not to intrude. Eventually it became easy to follow with tree harvesting right up to the boundary. We continued with moderate descents over welcoming footing, and then came the exit from the forest onto the unplowed portion of the back road. It was a flash for us as we arrived back to the car, grateful for what we were granted — not only wonderful views, but a safe return home. Our rambling in the woods had come to an end and we gabbed about returning for more adventures in the Lake George Wild Forest very soon.

There's plenty to quench your thirst for adventure in the Schroon Lake Region. Go horseback riding, snowmobiling, or downhill skiing!

Anywhere you go in the Adirondacks during summer is going to be great. Lakes, mountains, fields, and streams – it’s all great. But why settle for great when you could have spectacular? Schroon Lake is a small, unassuming mountain town located between Lake George and Lake Placid that provides the perfect summertime oasis. Schroon Lake’s options for water recreation are as rewarding as they are relaxing. Cruise on a motorboat, ride the tide of the wind in a sailboat, or paddle your own way on a kayak, canoe, or stand up paddleboard. I recently enjoyed my first Schroon Lake experience – so much so that I didn’t want to leave!

Beating the summer heat can be tough in the Adirondacks. With so few hot months, air conditioning isn’t always guaranteed. Instead of fighting the heat, I decided to embrace it and soak in the sun from the deck of a 20-foot pontoon boat. Schroon Lake Marina, located at the northern end of the lake, is a great resource for boat rentals. Their staff is very helpful and they guided me to a vessel that would suit my needs perfectly. Their flexible rental system allowed me to choose from several trip options, and due to my fair skin, I decided two hours on a boat was just long enough to relax and explore the lake without also toasting to a crisp.

After a thorough tutorial on how to use all of the boat’s gadgets (and drive it in general), my co-captain and I were off! Never having visited Schroon Lake before, we weren’t entirely sure what to expect. We maneuvered our way out of the channel with ease, turned a corner, and were stunned by the beautiful, expansive lake before us.

Immediately off to our left was a stretch of picturesque sandbars – the kind of thing I would normally expect to see on the Gulf of Mexico. The shallow waters were almost completely clear, perfect for the paddleboarders just learning to stand. We pointed the boat south down the lake and our curiosity and desire to explore kicked into high gear. With a small island in our sights, we pushed the boat into high speed.

All of my previous experience with boats had involved me propelling myself forward by using paddles. Getting behind the wheel of a motorboat for the first time was a lot of fun. While paddling holds a special place in my heart, getting to enjoy the sun and the lake with minimal physical effort was exactly what I was hoping for on a very hot day. The pontoon boat ended up being the perfect choice, too. It was so comfortable we kept referring to it as “our giant couch,” and it provided the perfect floating deck from which to enjoy a swim.

For a first-time captain, Schroon Lake was very easy to navigate. We explored bays, circled islands, and entertained ourselves with some excellent sight-seeing. In addition to the stunning mountain views, the elaborate lakeside camps, houses, and resorts lining the shores made for their own game of “I Spy.” I kept trying to decide on a favorite, but I eventually came to the conclusion that I would gladly take any one of them if it meant having access to Schroon Lake every day!

Not wanting to miss a thing, we went all the way to the southern end of the lake before parking the boat, cutting the motor, and jumping in for a swim. When it comes to clarity and temperature, no two Adirondack lakes are the same. Schroon Lake immediately landed itself at the top of my list of favorites. Clear, clean, and comfortably warm, the water was the perfect contrast to the hot air. After a couple fantastic belly flops off the boat (diving has never been my strong suit), we turned the boat on, the music up, and started cruising back to the marina.

Two hours on the lake went by in a flash, but it was long enough to induce that lazy summer day calm and give me a bit of a sun-kissed glow. We docked our boat back at the Schroon Lake Marina and headed into town to check out some of the things we had seen from the lake.

Downtown Schroon Lake was bustling with summer tourists and activity. We made our way to the Schroon Lake Town Beach, located minutes from the main street, and headed out onto the sand. I never thought northern lakes could have such pristine sand beaches! We had seen dozens from the boat, and had been enticed by the looks of them. Feeling the sand beneath my bare feet, meandering around the brightly colored sun umbrellas, and listening to the joyful squeals of children as they splashed in the water transported me to an entirely different place. If you had told me I had been picked up and dropped off in Florida, I would have believed you.

Right behind the beach, though, was an emerald green grassy hill, where families gathered around picnic baskets and children played on swings and slides. Everywhere we looked, it was like witnessing the perfect summer day.

After a while, sun-kissed and happy, we hit the road, knowing full well we would be back before long. We had discovered so much, we didn’t have time to experience it all in one day! Sticks & Stones Bistro and Bar is on my must-do list for next time, along with a trip to explore the nearby Natural Stone Bridge & Caves in Pottersville. I may even take advantage of some of the excellent Schroon Lake camping options so I have more than one day to experience and discover more of the Schroon Lake Region.