A Kid's Camping Trip

This is going to be a journey through time as well as a wilderness trek.  There won't be any pictures, and the scenic beauty will have to be generated in your mind, but it is a nostalgic trip from this "kid's" past that you might find interesting to share.

I recently read a novel titled Vanishing Act, by Thomas Perry.  It was set mostly in Western  New York, but the end of the book was set in the Adirondack Mountains and detailed a canoe trip through some of the lakes in that area.  While reading that part, the memories came flooding back to me of my youth in that very spot.

I grew up in a suburb of Buffalo and my father loved to camp.  Nearly every summer we would drive up to the Adirondacks to a camping park called Golden Beach.  It was on Raquette Lake, a part of the Fulton Chain of lakes situated right in the middle of that mountain range. We kids would pitch our pup tent, a small 2-man canvas tent, and spread our Army surplus sleeping bags out on the ground, prepared for a week of  'living in the wild.'

One of the last summers we went up there - I was probably fifteen and my older brother. Don would have been seventeen - the two of us rented an aluminum canoe and went on an overnight trip in it.  Early one morning we loaded our sleeping bags and some snacks and sandwiches into the canoe and set off for the town of Blue Mountain Lake.

The route we had to follow took us first west around a spit of land called Long Point and into the mouth of the Marion River.  It really isn't a river at all, but a stream with lots of marshes and open meadows.  The views were good and there was lots of wildlife along the banks.

The Marion peters out about a half-mile from the western end of Utowana Lake, a Native American name that Don and I converted to 'You-don't-wan'na', something we laughed over for years afterwards.  A portage was called for to get over to the lake, so we hefted the canoe over our heads and trekked the distance.  We found a small lean-to built of pine branches at the head of the lake, so we decided to make it our camp when we returned later in the day.

Paddling along, we transited Lake Utowana and then Eagle lake - no portage there - and on into Blue Mountain Lake.  There is a small town with the same name along the southern shore, and we stopped at a general store there for a soda and a couple of candy bars as our lunch.  Then, after a very brief rest, we got back into the canoe and started the return trip. 

By this time it was already mid-afternoon, we had traveled approximately thirteen miles, and we knew it would be a good pull to reach our intended campsite before dusk.  You don't want to be paddling a canoe in the dark in those alpine lakes, so we had to paddle long and hard to get back to the head of Lake Utowana.  Beavers, herons and who knows what other animals watched us make for the campsite.

As I recall, we got back to the lean-to in plenty of time to build a campfire and set up our bivouac for the night.  Fortunately, we didn't have to share with anyone else; in those days there wasn't much traffic up there.  Nor did we encounter any bears, which could have been dicey, since neither of us had a gun, only an innocuous hunting knife with a five inch blade that the bear would surely have laughed at, or whatever it is bears do to show their disdain for human foibles.  Anyway, we spent a restless night worrying about the possibilities.

Early the next morning we struck our camp and set off for the paddle back to Golden Beach.  Of course, we first had to do that portage again back over to the Marion River. The return trip seemed ever so much shorter and we arrived before noon, two 'tested woodsmen' in their moment of glory.  Aside from a few scratches and some sore muscles, we were none the worse for the wear, and we both learned a lot about our mettle on that journey.

If you care to see a map of the route we used, go to whatever mapping application you use and type in Raquette Lake to start your search.  Then expand the map a little until the other three lakes come up to the north and east of Raquette Lake.  If you ever want a neat canoe trip, this one is recommended.  Even today, some sixty years later, I suspect it is still as wild and scenic as it was back in 1954 when I made that trip.  Oh, I know, Route 28 kind of parallels it, but aside from one stretch where the road is right by the lake, it is out of sight, out of mind.