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.
