As civil unrest sweeps through our cities, we think of friends and loved-ones who continue to shelter in place. Immobilized for the time being, we can revisit destinations, near and far. join me in celebrating the joys of Quaranteam travel, the hope that these diversions might inspire us to value things we had taken for granted, to draw strength, wisdom and compassion from deeper engagements with nature.
Lake George from Sagamore, Bolton Landing New York. Saturday May 31, 2014.
One thing that has not changed since the stone age is that ninety-percent of human goods still move by water. For thousands of years indigenous traders traveled between the Atlantic coast, the Great Lakes and the far west through a series of waterways linked by carrying-places known as portages. One could enter the Hudson at Sandy Hook, proceed upstream to Stillwater, ascend a series of waterfalls before making a short trek overland to the south end of Lake George. At the northern end of the lake one ascends a winding river, scales another set of falls before putting one’s canoe into the waters of Lake Champlain, which drains via the Richelieu River into the Saint Lawrence River. From Saint Joseph de Sorel, one could either paddle downstream to Gaspé and Newfoundland, or upriver through the Thousand Islands into Lake Ontario. After scaling the heights below Niagara Falls, paddling across Lake Erie, up the Detroit River into Lake Saint-Clair, the up the Saint-Clair River into Lake Huron, one reaches in inland sea. Heading north through Sault-Sainte-Marie, then south into Green Bay, one ascends the Fox River, crosses Lake Winnebago to Lac de Butte des Morts, paddles up the southern stretch of the Fox to Portage, where after a short carry one puts in to the Wisconsin River, which at Prairie du Chien joins the Mississippi. The mighty river is joined downstream by the Missouri and Arkansas Rivers, rising is the Rockies, descending across the Great Plains.During the early colonial period, these waterways were superhighways. Exporting trade goods to indigenous nations, trappers harvested millions of beaver-pelts needed by European hatmakers.
Great Seal of the City of New York. Notice the iconography; a Dutch Builder, a Lenape Warrior, a windmill. Beaver and molasses barrels. The colonial economy of Nieuw Amsterdam was driven by fur-trapping, sugar production and slavery.
Where the Hudson descends from the Adirondacks, below the mouth of Sacandaga River is Glen’s Falls, which featured prominently in James Fenimore Cooper’s novel The Last of the Mohicans. Just below the falls on the left back of the river is the carrying-place that links the Hudson to Lake George. Thirty-seven miles in length this body of water was known to indigenous tribes as HoriconJacques-Gerard Milbert traveled through much of New York State, publishing his writings and drawings as Itineraire Pittoresque du Fleuve Hudson et Des Partes Laterales en Amerique du Nord in 1826.
Jacques-Gerard Milbert. View of Lake George and Caldwell (Lake George Village). 1826. Adirondack Experience, Blue Mountain Lake NY (Reproduced under Fair Use etc.)
“Lake George lies amid mountains that separate in every direction, forming a valley…During the era of French control Lake George was called the Lake of the Holy Sacrament because all the Canadian churches used its clear water for their services. Thirty-six miles long, the lake varies between one and seven miles in width, and the water is so clear that fish can be seen swimming at great depths. One hundred and fifty feet higher than Lake Champlain. It empties into the latter by way of a narrow canal after traversing rapids and a waterfall near the ruins of Fort Ticonderoga. The lofty banks are bordered with magnificent trees, notably red cedars, that are valuable for shipbuilding. The surface is dotted with large numbers of islands of various sizes, some of them barren. One, that is known as Diamond, Island because quartz crystals are found there, was formerly infested with rattlesnakes, but they were exterminated by pigs imported for that purpose. The fearful reptiles are still to be found in large numbers on the mountain (Tongue Mountain), and bold mountaineers continue to hunt them for their skins, despite the fact that several men have been victims of their own intrepidity.”
–Jacque-Gerard Milbert. Picturesque Itinerary of the Hudson River and Its Environs in North America. 1826
In late May of 2014 Kathie and I splurged on a stay at the Sagamore Inn on Lake George. The hotel stands on a Green Island, just off the western shore of the lake, next to the village of Bolton Landing. Normally the place would have been out of our price-range but Kathie had received a special pre-Memorial Day offer. Founded in 1883, the sprawling Victorian-era inn faces south. The setting is stunning. A long, well-manicured lawn sloped down toward the water. We soon realized that our bargain getaway was in the basement of one of the modern dependencies built on the property, not in the grand hotel itself. I had never found the prospect of cruise-ship vacations very appealing but imagined that the American plan, in which hotel lodging included meal service would be similar to dining on one of those seaborne behemoths.We nevertheless gave it a whirl, and were not disappointed.
Rainstorm on Lake George. The Narrows from Sagamore. Friday May 30, 2014. Left to right: Tongue Mountain, The Narrows, Sleeping Beauty and Shelving Rock.
On Friday afternoon, May 30th, I wandered down to the lakeside bar, which had not yet opened for the season. Chairs and tables were partially set up. Unpacking my kit, I measured out the northwest vista across a page-spread and began to explore the scene. Dark clouds tumbled in from the west, throwing the waters into darkness. Sunlight and cloud-shadows rolled across the mountains lining the far shore. Just as the painting began to make sense, the temperature plummeted and the skies opened up. Leaning forward to shield the pages, I continued to work. Rain spilled off the brim of my hat. The wind drove raindrops onto the pages. Turning my back against the weather, I slipped a piece of paper towel between the pages. Closing the book, I moved into the partial shelter of the alfresco bar. Beholding the damage, it would be possible to elaborate the sketch later that evening. Hours later, I set out materials to make the corrections. Looking at my pages for the first time since the afternoon, I hesitated. The image was deranged but coherent. All the color notes were in place. Driven onto the page by windborne raindrops, the pale marks reminded me of bleach-spattered blue-jeans. Their angles recorded the wind-direction. I began to change my mind. Here was an authentic document of a place, at a specific moment in time, modified not by contrivance, but by the intervention of nature. Why for the sake of artistic conceit, should one disregard such a gift?
Check out April 2020 Quaranteam Traveler Dispatches
(A preview of SKETCHBOOK TRAVELER by James L. McElhinney (c) 2020. Schiffer Publishing).
Copyright James Lancel McElhinney (c) 2020 Texts and images may be reproduced (with proper citation) by permission of the author. To enquire, send a request to editions@needlewatcher.com