Off Grid

The sign at the entrance to the camping area said no permit needed up to four days. We figured we’d lay up a couple of nights but in the event we took the full time allowed. 

The spot is called Horseshoe Lake and the state parks department has eleven designated campsites along the dead end road that runs along the shore. It’s paved part of the way in but smooths out on the dirt track deeper in. Ironic eh? The paved bit is severely lumpy and slowed us down. New Yorkers with canoes and bicycles speed down this road like it’s a freeway. 

The first open spot was number three and it’s not clear from the pictures but there is a definite slope downhill, but we are pretty easy to please. Some campers use propane fridges but for technical reasons they don’t work unless level. Our fridge runs on 110 volts so no problem. Rusty loved the spot. 

Layne found the temperatures a bit chilly but we used our electric heater and ran the engine from time to time and the van is well insulated especially with the window covers in place, and we did fine.

There was a campfire ready to be lit but quite frankly as soon as the sun went down we were tucked up inside, out of the bitter cold, eating one of Layne’s creations, squash casserole, tacos, and lots of hot cups of tea for me and coffee for her. 

Rusty passed out after dinner. He spent his days wandering the trails, never leading me too far from home but we wandered along the shore and through the backwoods, me with the camera and he always with his nose. 

Practically every car truck and SUV bouncing down the road had kayaks or canoes and you’d think the lake would have been packed with paddlers. I only saw three the entire time. The campsites were so isolated we effectively had no neighbors either. It was the most peaceful weekend you can imagine.  

It’s undoubtedly a popular spot in the middle of the Adirondacks and I can only imagine how packed it must be in summer. This time of year it’s a little cold, 40 degrees at night was the lowest and we had some showers too but when the cold north wind died down and the sun finally came out it was lovely, usually around 65 degrees by mid  afternoon.

Lots of fungi pushing up out of the damp bed of rotting leaves. 

Lots of time to get dug in to the story of Lewis and Clark. 

For tent campers the state of New York has thoughtfully provided a pit toilet. A true throne up the hill in the forest: 

And when we weren’t reading of eating we had downloaded movies to break up the day. 

I used my folding buckets and siphon hose to fill our water tank from the lake. We use a Berkey filter to purify our tank water before drinking, which seems necessary in this day and age. Motorboats are prohibited on the lake but we live in an age when fresh wild water is not generally considered potable and mote’s the pity.  And as for the delightfully named privy…

…that was the ideal spot to dump our own toilet. It was a brisk walk up hill and offered a very pleasant wooden seat among the trees. There was a log for a foot rest, a form hand rail to lean on and a splendid view of the forest to mediate upon.  

We had everything we needed. Why not stay the four day limit?

Our Verizon signal was feeble, enough to make a call or send a text but rarely strong enough to go online or send a picture. Certainly not enough to post a dozen pictures. 

There are a couple of private homes grandfathered into the state forest. Apparently that can use motorboats though we saw none. The tranquility was piercers by the afternoon drone of a generator across the lake each day, whether from a camper or the occupant of a vacation home I couldn’t tell. 

We had snagged a good spot on Thursday  afternoon and we knew it. Had we needed confirmation we got it when new arrivals, apparently familiar with the area, slowed down as though to see if their favorite spot was empty. GANNET2 flew our flag very well. 

One truck came to a complete halt much to our surprise. The driver leaned out and asked if we knew Patricia Webster who moved recently to Key West. What does she do Layne asked. But we had no idea who she might be. It’s not such an odd question either. I have been asked that before on our travels and indeed I did know a mutual acquaintance in our small town. 

It’s a salutary reminder for us that at the bright of hurricane season at home we are enjoying the Fall in these gorgeous deciduous forests. Books to read, crossword puzzles, NPR on the van radio, and a dog who collapses each night exhausted and fills our tiny cabin with the deep loud snores of a day well spent. 

No neighbors allowed here, too close by according to the people in charge: 

Guarding my back while I read at the lake side: 

Alexandria Bay

Many years ago I lived with a woman, to her eternal regret, who grew up in Alexandria Bay. I never got to visit the town with her, and in previous visits to New York State I have not managed to get there. I did finally, this week. 

We rolled north through rain and thick green forests such that by the time we arrived on the edge of the St Lawrence River the little tourist town was soaking wet.

Labor Day actually means something around here, unlike the Keys where September is high season for hurricanes.  Alexandria Bay is closed for the winter. 

I exaggerate but not by much. I walked Rusty for an hour and passed quite a few eateries closed for the winter. The Thousand Islands region is a summer destination for Canadians  on the north shore and Americans on this side. 

Wellesley Island faces Alexandria Bay and the border is just north of that but I saw Canadian flagged ferries weaving through the rocks and islands. I imagine in summer this place must be hopping. There is an odd symmetry between these islands and the Keys. This place became well known when President Grant was running for re-election in 1872 was invited for a visit by his friend George Pullman who had a home here. President Truman did similar advertising for the Keys. 

You may have heard of Thousand Island dressing. Like most popular stories this product comes with two creation myths. One, rather boring one is that a hotelier created it and the proof lies in the fact that they found an original recipe in the hotel safe in Clayton, New York and it is promoted by a local fishing guide. 

However there is a much better story and it goes like this. George Boldt and his wife Louise, whom he adored, were cruising the St Lawrence in their steam yacht one fine day. Their chef Oscar Tschirky found he had no salad dressing onboard so he quickly shipped up ketchup, mayo, pickle juice and egg and called it good. We call it Thousand Island. 

Aside from salad dressing Boldt is the big cheese in local history. He owned the Waldorf Astoria in New York City and he had money to burn. He discovered the area around 1893 and decided to build his wife a palace on a lump of rock. He bought the five acre Hart Island, as you do when you are that wealthy and hired 300 craftsmen to build a dream home to honor his wife.

She had the poor taste to die suddenly in 1904 before the mammoth task was completed and with a phone call the heart broken Boldt, who had renamed his fantasy Heart Island, called off the craftsmen who were plunged into unemployment just like that. 

The place was left to rot for three quarters of a century until the Thousand Islands Bridge Authority decided to salvage the wreck and rebuild it. And the work continues.

You can imagine the genteel elegance of that era when working people worked and the Gatsbys idled as you walk around Alexandria Bay. Plus there was the smuggling… just like the Keys where alcohol was smuggled across the Straits of Florida during Prohibition, so they smuggled madly here from Canada just across the river.  

One startling feature of the town is the supremely ugly hospital building on the hill. It’s a muddy brown block on top of the rise overlooking the river, prime real estate, and it is ugly! 

It has the added benefit of cutting off downtown from any possibility of a river view. The St Lawrence is Alexandria Bay’s lifeline but you wouldn’t know it downtown. Weird. 

But if you walk your dog,

You can find the river flowing past the town. 

We retreated to a nearby rest area for the night just off I-81which was surprisingly quiet at night. By day it’s packed with truck traffic to and from Canada over the Thousand Islands Bridge. 

We’ve driven Canada Highway 401 along the St Lawrence River previously  so we feel no pressing need to cross into Canada this trip. Our plan is to drive east to Lake Champlain and take the ferry to Burlington. Six miles is  as close as we need to be to this border because now at last I’ve seen the fabled Alexandria Bay.