As summer winds down and families are back to school, a group of woods women I’ve known for many, many a year head north to New York’s beautiful and huge wilderness.
I’m always asking readers to “take out your map.” Well, this time grab a New York state map. Check out our large Catskill Park. Then compare it to the huge Adirondack Park! Sixty-one percent of New York state is forested: Throughout the Finger Lakes and all around the Susquehanna, along New York’s share of the Appalachian Trail. The beauty of mountains and hills and rivers is remarkable. And the wealth of fresh water cannot be underestimated!
I realize that most people in the U.S. picture New York City when they speak of New York, and I hope it stays that way! I selfishly prefer my wilderness to remain largely “people free.” Thus, the “wild” in wilderness.
I’ve often written of my travels. Many are with friends I met five, 10, 20 or even 40 years ago. Many of those trips were to faraway, challenging places. They feed my lust for adventure and even danger. But the annual August-September, five-day trips to the Adirondacks “feed my very soul.”
It takes about five hours to drive to Tupper Lake and then on to Rollins Pond, one of the many many wonderful New York State DEC campgrounds. Our group is made up of four to six gals who love to camp, paddle, bike, hike, drink wine and be a bit rowdy. Often, we’ve not seen one another since the last Rollins Pond bash. We catch up on one another’s lives, often including the good, the bad and the ugly. We share a love of the out-of-doors; of the wilderness. Our hope is always to get very specific camp sites — on the water and at “the end of the road.” It is now nearly impossible to acquire these sites but at Rollins, nearly every site has it offerings.
We park all the kayaks and canoes at the water’s edge just back from our beat up lawn/beach chairs. Don’t picture the Jersey shore beach. Rather, picture tiny dirt areas without grass or shrubbery. Unless it is raining, our late afternoons and evenings will be spent here. And always, we are listening for the loons!
If you were to interview each of the Rollins crew, I’d be happy to wager that every single one of them would answer to the question, “why Rollins? Why the Adirondacks?” It’s the loons. Now, of course every lake in the Adirondacks probably has loons. But these are our beloved loons. I’m going to share with you some of our outings and then I’ll tell you why the Rollins loons will forever be in our hearts.
My very favorite paddle is this: Paddle to the very end of the pond — after campsite #245 or some such. There is a small outflow found where one would turn around if you were not heading for that very route. When the water is high, one zips right down and out. It is not at all a long channel. Nor is it deep. In fact, therein lies the issue: many times the water is low and it is difficult to beg your boat through, but if successful, you hug the right shore, enjoying the scenery and wildlife. After perhaps an hour of paddling along the lake side, there is a sign indicating the route down to the next little lake and then the next. The chute down this passage is always exciting. Fast, with fallen trees and other debris obstructing the way. I love this part to this paddle! It is scary. But not so scary as to deter my doing it. And it is short. It makes it all the more exciting if there are screaming people going down just before you.
When you get through this chute, the water slows a bit and along both sides are places to get out and picnic or swim. There is a third chute (but not at all scary) and then a lovely paddle to the finish where we have spotted a few cars. This outing can be done in a two to three hours.
By altering the route a bit one can hug the left side of the big lake, along a former railroad bed, and arrive at a charming outdoor store, accessible by car or bike and of course, by water.
So, those are my favorite water destinations. The new Adirondack bike trail is lovely and fun. There is, of course, great hiking as well. And, on horrid weather days, The Wild Center in Tupper Lake or The Adirondack Experience museum on Blue Mountain Lake or on and on, though lying in one’s tent with a good book is also very nice. Then a fire, of course. One of the gals is an expert fire builder. Another has a wonderful dining tent. We move down to the water’s edge, chat and await the loons.
For those of you who have never heard a loon in the wild — in a spot where their call reverberates from hill to mountain and from stream to lake — please download the call from any bird app: Merlin or Audubon. It’s not nearly the “real thing” but it will give you chills nonetheless.
Now, my closing loon story that, hopefully, will bring tears to your eyes: Our one friend has come to this area for many, many years. Her father taught her about camping and boating and loons. She explained to us that the loon parents must teach the young how to put their heads into the water whilst they float and search for fish. Most of us know that it is often difficult to find an adult loon after they have dived on their search. They stay down quite a while and apparently cover a lot of territory. Well, once the juvenile loon is no longer hitching a ride on their parents’ backs, they are busy learning.
I hope that I can describe this last part well enough! Picture late afternoon. Parent loons are with one juvenile between them. The parents take turns diving and searching for fish and then surfacing. The little guy swims frantically to that parent in hopes that the fish is meant for them. Sometimes it is and sometimes it is not. The little one swims back and forth from one parent to the other for fish! The parents demonstrate putting their heads in the water in search of fish. The baby copies them. They encourage the baby to dive. FINALLY, the little one actually dives! and when he surfaces, both parents swim to him and one can just imagine the praise! The loon praise they are lavishing on him or her! He did it! I was in tears. Such labor of love — and of survival. The lesson continued and I’m sure the little one finally did catch a fish!
That night we were treated to more loon music. To my mind there is no better lullaby. And this is one example of my annual “Loon Fix” at Rollins Pond.
This, dear readers, is my last column. All those years ago I said yes to writing because I figured it would be for a little while. But, it’s been years! Thanks to you, I was able to relive each activity I wrote about.
I have valued the opportunity.