Tag: Lake Champlain

Rosslyn is perched on the Adirondack Coast of the greatest of lakes, Lake Champlain.

[caption id="attachment_5419" align="alignright" width="233"] Color lithograph of cover for sheet music by Alfred Bryan and Albert Gumble

Color lithograph of sheet music by Alfred Bryan and Albert Gumble.[/caption]

A freshwater lake located between New York State on the west, Vermont on the east, and Canada’s Quebec province on the north, Lake Champlain is approximately 120 miles (193 km) long, 12 miles (19 km) wide, and 400 feet (122 m) at its deepest trench. The sixth-largest lake in the United States by volume, Lake Champlain contains 71 islands. (Source: LCLT.org) Source waters include the Boquet, Ausable, and Saranac rivers in New York and the Richelieu, Missisquoi, and Lamoille rivers in Vermont. Contrary to a common misperception, the lake flows northward into the Richelieu River (and eventually into the St. Lawrence River.)

Inspiring artists, musicians, and vacationers for centuries, Lake Champlain is a creative and cultural epicenter for the Northeast. To get in the mood, how about a singalong of Alfred Bryan and Albert Gumble’s “On Lake Champlain”? (Check out the lyrics and audio recording.)

Named for the French explorer, Samuel de Champlain, who was the first European to map the region in 1609, the waterway quickly became an important transportation and trade artery. The Battle of Valcour (October 11, 1776) during the American Revolutionary War and the Battle of Plattsburgh (September 6-11, 1814) during the War of 1812 wove the majestic lake into early American history. Today, Lake Champlain is a popular destination for vacationing, swimming, boating, fishing, and camping.

Bald Eagle Breakfast

Bald eagle perches along Essex waterfront watching ducks.

I saw a young bald eagle recently flying over the lake just off from the hamlet. The ducks by the ferry dock ignored him but I bet they were keeping a close watch nevertheless. ~ Rob Ivy (Essex Column, Feb. 5, 2014)

I bundled up this morning – thermals and lots of fleecy layers – to brace against the subzero temperatures. After almost 24 hours of continuous snowfall I was excited with the prospect of an early morning skiing the fresh powder at Whiteface. But an even greater gift surprised me as I finished scraping the car and climbed in.

Bald Eagle Breakfasting?

My mobile phone buzzed to tell me a Facebook message had arrived.

“Bald eagle out there this morning!”

It was Willsboro neighbor, Beatrice Disogra, a daily Essex ferry commuter with a gift of spying bald eagles (and spectacular Lake Champlain views!) I parked at the end of our driveway, craning my neck to survey the trees. I didn’t see him at first. Our digital dialogue continued.

Look to the left of the boathouse up in the tall trees on the WATER’S EDGE. It came down and plucked a fish out between the boathouse and ferry dock last week. I’m at the ferry dock watching it right now. There’s a young one without white feathers that hangs out in front of your house. Should be easy to spot when the sun comes out.

I got out of my car and walked north, inspecting ash, maple, locust and cottonwood. Then I noticed a likely suspect.

Just walked toward Sandy Pt. Saw large blackish mass high in tree. Not certain it was eagle, but now gone.

It was. It flew past me at ferry dock. It will come back.

“Sitting ducks” enjoying the boathouse bubbler (while bald eagle watches.)

I had snapped the blurry photo above with my mobile phone in order to zoom in and take a closer look once I was back in the warmth of my car. And the eagle must have flown off as soon as I turned to walk away.

Bald Eagle and “Sitting Ducks”

I verified with Ms. Disogra that she’d witnessed the eagle catching a fish, not a duck. She assured me that she had been close enough to see it.

But bald eagles are also fond of ducks, and the area we keep bubbled in front of Rosslyn’s boathouse inevitably offers an inviting smorgasbord for hungry eagles. So far no photos of an eagle flying away with a duck in its talons!

It is worth noting, I am conflicted about this bald eagle and “sitting duck” situation. I am a big fan of the ducks. In fact, I want to raise a few ducklings myself one day, if only my bride would relent. And I am also awed by the magnificent bald eagles which frequent the Adirondack Coast in winter. But one could argue that we are effectively manipulating nature by creating open water which attracts the wild ducks, causing atypically high concentration which favors the bald eagles.

All recommendations welcome…

February 6, 2014
Champy Spotted at Essex Ferry Dock (circa 1980?)

Champy spotted at Essex ferry dock?!?! Once upon a time…

Champy Spotted at Essex Ferry Dock (Photo: Kathryn Reinhardt)

I’m gambling that it was around 1980 for no reliable reasons except the look and condition of the Old Dock Restaurant, the presence of ice shanties on a throughly frozen lake with no ferry canal, and the incredibly well executed snow/ice sculpture just north of the Essex ferry dock. It’s this last one that triggered a cascade of memories and lead me to hope that the photograph was taken by Jan Peden around 1980. More on that in a moment.

I make no effort to disguise my enthusiasm for hyperlocal ephemera and other artifacts, especially yesteryear photographs and other representations of our fair village. So you just might be able to imagine my excitement when I received this message from friend and neighbor, Kathryn “Kathy” Reinhardt.

Sorting papers and I found two Essex postcards you might like. One of the Split Rock lighthouse with a postmark and message from 1910. The other card was not used and shows the snow covered ferry dock with a frozen Champ swimming alongside. Photo is by Jan Peden; card was published by ECHO.” — Kathryn Reinhardt

I’ll get to the historic image of the Split Rock Lighthouse in a moment, but let’s pause a moment to appreciate the legendary Lake Champlain monster (aka “Champ”, “Champy”).

Champy & Nostalgia

I’m hoping that this post might rekindle community memory enough to learn who helped sculpt this superb likeness of our favorite surviving dinosaur. The uninitiated may remember Champy from the Sid Couchey painting/illustration of the friendly monster cavorting off the end of Rosslyn’s boathouse. I shared it waaayyy back on April 27, 2012, so it’s say it’s time for a resurface.

Champy in front of Rosslyn’s boathouse (Art: Sid Couchey)

Ostensibly a cousin to the Lock Ness monster, our Lake Champlain mystery monster is considered a myth by some, a fundamental fact by others. Happy hour sightings along the lake’s waterfront apparently offer particularly plausible viewing opportunities, though I’ll admit having never witnessed the friendly fellow (or is Champy a she?).

I suggested earlier that my instinct to date this postcard photograph sometime near 1980 derives from vivid memories of the years prior to and after the 1980 Winter Olympics which took place in Lake Placid. I was a boy, so my memories are likely ripened with nostalgia, but it seems that there was community-wide embrace of winter in those years. Likely catalyzed by preparations for the Olympics and then the afterglow, it seems that there were abundant winter happenings — toboggan runs, outdoor jogging contests, cross country ski races, skating rinks, fish fries with freshly caught smelt, and snow sculptures — that drew people outside into the out-of-doors from community revelry. I remember competing in a cross-country ski race on the Westport Country Club golf course, and “red nose runs” in Elizabethtown. I remember fish fries at the old Westport beach, and the most horrifyingly thrilling toboggan chute down the hill and out onto the frozen lake. I believe that much of these memories are clumped around an annual midwinter event that was called the Westport Outdoor Weekend (WOW). And one of my favorite parts of this annual festival was the snow sculpture contest. Homes throughout the area competed for the bet snow sculpture. We used to drive around and admire them all. I believe I recall the Valley News even showcasing winners some years. And so this flood of nostalgia underpins my suspicion that this handsome facsimile of Champy might date to those years.

It’s interesting to me that the postcards, produced by ECHO, drew attention to the Essex-Charlotte ferry pier and history of service without a more inclusive mention of the Essex waterfront or the handsome snow sculpture!

Back side of Champy at Essex ferry dock postcard (Photo: Kathryn Reinhardt)

Split Rock Light

Let’s turn now to the second postcard that Kathy sent me. Although I and others usually refer to the historic lighthouse presiding over the dramatic geographic promontory jutting out into Whallons Bay as the Split Rock Lighthouse, I’ve notice this older references, especially the further back into history they fall, refer to it as Split Rock Light. That’s neither here nor there, but I find those little linguistic shifts intriguing.

1910 postcard depicting Split Rock Lighthouse (Photo: Kathryn Reinhardt)

I recently shared an almost identical postcard of the Split Rock Light, likely created from the same source photograph. The coloring, layout, and captioning differs between the two, but I imagine both images were late at the end of the 19th or beginning of the 20th century and then repurposed. It’s a compelling angle, especially because this same view today is less open. Here’s the postcard that I published on November 21, 2022.

Split Rock Light, Essex, NY (Vintage Postcard)

It’s fun to flip back and forth between the two images to see what’s similar and what differs. Back in November I was struck then as well by how thinly forested the Split Rock Light grounds were at the time.

The historic lighthouse located at Split Rock in Essex, NY reigns over a promontory bearing a curious resemblance to an arboretum, more landscaped and less wild than today. A copse of diverse specimen trees here, a granite outcrop there, a grassy bluff here,… I can’t help but see a sort of Split Rock botanical garden. (Source: This is Not a Metaphor)

That notable difference with the same location a century or so later vies for my attention, but so too does the message on the reverse of the postcard that Kathy sent.

In many respects this is the most formulaic, most universal postcard missive. We’ve all read (and possibly written) versions of this, right? But there’s a personal pleasure in the final two lines:

Having a delightful sail on this. — B.H.

As a boater in general, and a sailor in particular, this subtle sign-off hooks me. So often Susan and I spy this beautiful, historically significant spot by boat, and often by sailboat. So even though B.H. mostly went through the motions in the message area of the card, the fading memory of a sail on Lake Champlain, indeed on the enchanting broad-lake-to-narrows transition, appeals to my romantic imagination.

Back side of 1910 postcard depicting Split Rock Lighthouse (Photo: Kathryn Reinhardt)

I’d best conclude this post (definitively in need of an editor!) before I wander too much further afield. And yet I can’t resist acknowledging that one of the great satisfactions of these artifacts is not just the bridge across time, but the invitation to meander. To wonder and wander. And this post is proof that meandering is a favorite pastime for yours truly.

Thank You, Kathy!

This Rosslyn blog and the Essex community blog have been meaningful projects in large part because they have catalyzed a sort of community crowdsourcing, gathering all sorts of curious anecdotes, memories, stories, renderings, and relics from current and past members of Essex and environs. Any time I receive a message like the one that Kathy sent, my heart skips a beat. My anticipation builds and builds until the meeting or the phone call or the email or the letter completes the excitement provoked by the initial “teaser”. And so I close off this post with a holiday hug (stretched by distance but invested with bountiful gratitude) for Kathryn “Kathy” Reinhardt.

Kathryn Reinhardt preparing to “polar plunge” on May 1, 2016 (Photo: Geo Davis)

I hope she’ll chuckle good-naturedly at this fun photo that I took a half dozen years ago. It perfectly captures her perennial joy, her contagious laughter, and her warmth. I couldn’t resist mentioning this last 100% accurate description of Kathy’s character because she’s about to take an early springtime plunge into Lake Champlain in the photograph. Brrr…

December 15, 2022
Industrial Essex Waterfront

Industrial Essex Waterfront

In Essex we live connected with our history. There are daily reminders — architectural, cultural, anecdotal, etc. — of the yesterdays that endure or linger on today. It’s not so much that time has stood still (although there are plenty who will suggest as much), but rather Essex allows a concurrence of times. Past and present coexist in some respect, as layers or textures of our day-to-day.

And yet there are occasional reminders of our long gone past. The industrial Essex waterfront documented fuzzily in the postcard above, for example, stands in stark contrast to the same waterfront today. The industry and innovation alive and well in Essex today is very different from 100 or 200 years ago.

I’m especially smitten with Essex waterfront images, fueled no doubt by a lifelong yen for things nautical.

I appreciate lakeside time capsules that pop up unexpectedly like this historic postcard that I tried unsuccessfully to purchase on eBay. It turns out that another collector with deeper pockets (and more persistent auction monitoring!) was able to win this nostalgic view of Essex’s northern waterfront, but I’ve made an effort to render the low definition photograph slightly more legible for you so that you can decipher the stories suggested by yesteryear’s industrial Essex waterfront.

In my estimation the photographer appears to have been looking south across Blood’s Bay toward the cape or peninsula now known as Begg’s Park. This Essex “skyline” adorns a circa 1924 postcard, but the photograph was likely made years or even decades earlier.

August 19, 2021
Waterfront Winterization

Waterfront Winterization: Pulling out the boat lift on September 22, 2016.

There comes a time each autumn when summer has faded and winter is whispering over the waves. Or when work, travel, something eclipses the languid stretch of fall boating and watersports. Sometimes earlier, sometimes later, and as inevitable and bittersweet as fall foliage, waterfront winterization is an annual ritual that braces us practically and emotionally for the North Country’s frosty November through February.

The photo above chronicles the slow process of dragging the boat lift ashore. We use an electric winch and plenty of manpower. The aluminum dock is next. Rolling it in is the easy part. Lifting it up the stone terracing to higher ground is our version of crossfit.

Special thanks to Doug Decker, Erick Decker, Matt Smith, Alex Shepard, and Jeff Bigelow for making today’s waterfront winterization the smoothest and most efficient to date.

Boats on the Hard

Waterfront Winterization: Pulling the ski boat on September 21, 2016.

Usually in October, we haul Errant, our 31′ sailboat and Racy Rosslyn, our ski boat. This year we had to advance our haul dates to accommodate a busy fall schedule. In the photo above Racy Rosslyn is being towed away for winterization and storage.

Waterfront Winterization 2016: Errant is on the hard at a nearby shipyard.

Errant was hauled on Monday and now rests comfortably on the hard, winterized, and covered for a long North Country fall-winter-spring.

Thanks to everyone who’s helped with Rosslyn’s waterfront winterization 2016. Just think, in eight months we’ll reverse everything we just did!

September 22, 2016
Essex, NY’s Industrial Waterfront c. 1910

Industrial Waterfront, Essex on Lake Champlain, circa 1910

This morning I’d like to share a fresh (at least to me) look at Essex, New York’s industrial past. This vintage postcard titled, “A Lake View, Essex, N.Y.” (and allegedly published between 1907 and 1915 was recently available for auction on eBay. Sadly, I was overbid in the final seconds of the auction, but I’ll continue hunting for another copy of this revealing document.

Although I’ve shared other Essex Horse Nail Company images and artifacts before (i.e. Essex Horse Nail Company in Essex, New York and Essex Horse Nail Company and Wadhams Mills), this perspective was previously unfamiliar to me. And it’s fascinating!

I’m surprised by how incredibly immense the Essex Horse Nail Company’s building complex appears, especially in proportion to the other buildings in the historic photograph. I was unaware that such a large structure stood where Alan Wardle’s Nail Collector’s House, a singular, brass clad cottage, nestles today. (I admit this oversight despite the fact that I’ve often witnessed the old stone foundations that define the tree-shrouded promontory that inspired Steven Holl’s bold architectural.)

The treeless shoreline north of Rosslyn (perhaps looking south from the Wilder House lawn?) intrigues me. I’ve collected other historic photos demonstrating that most of the land north and west of Rosslyn were treeless fields (and orchards, so not exactly treeless, I guess), but I find the opportunity to witness views — now altered with trees and construction — enticing. Lastly, I’m reminded that there was a small dock house on/near the waterfront now home to Cabins by the Lake. I have other historic images that indicate that this dock house was part of a boat and automobile refueling station, though it’s not 100% clear whether or not that’s the case when this photograph was made.

And I’m reminded that I still haven’t definitively determined whether or not this northern Essex harbor (where Rosslyn’s boathouse is located but ubstructed by the shoreline trees on the right side of this vintage photograph) was once referred to as Blood’s Bay. Any credible historians able to weigh in?

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September 7, 2017
La Vie en Rose

La Vie en Rose: Rosslyn boathouse during a late February sunset. (Credit: Kristen Eden)

Je vois la vie en rose
I see life through rose-colored glasses — Édith Piaf

Édith Piaf’s “La Vie En Rose” – usually translated as “Life Through Rose-Colored Glasses” – inevitably, joyfully came to mind when this sexy photograph was shared with me on Facebook by an Essex friend and neighbor, Janice Koenig. It turns out the photographer, Kristen Eden, is also an Essex neighbor and, if Facebook counts, a new friend.

Kristen’s photographs (see gallery below for a few more) capture warmth and tenderness, unusual characteristics for mid-winter images of icy Lake Champlain. Even on sunny days our North Country light in February tends to by harsh and severe, so these unlikely photos were a welcome sight. They lit up Facebook prompting “likes” and comments from many local and distant fans. My downsized, watermarked versions of her photos don’t fairly do the originals justice, but you can enjoy the image above, “Ducks swimmin’ in pink lemonade” (in larger, better format) on Kristen Eden Fine Art and Photography.

Sensuous & Harsh: La Vie En Rose

Piaf, France’s “Little Sparrow”, similarly blends the sensuous and the harsh. Perhaps it’s the scratchy old recordings. Or her crushed velvet sound. Or her swooping transitions and confident refrains. Who knows? A siren’s mystery. Listen and decide for yourself.

Piaf’s song wove itself inextricably into my already Pollyanna-prone psyche during my college years, and despite the lyrics’s unlikely resonance, they remain evocative and hypnotic half a lifetime later. Piaf’s sensuous sound makes me nostalgic for the years I lived in Paris even now as I type these words about photographs that remind me how much I am enchanted with Essex, a world away from The City of Light.

Thanks for your Rose-colored Glasses

Thanks, Kristen, for your stunning photographs. And thanks, Janice, for bringing them to my attention.

Pink Green Mountain sunset (Credit: Kristen Eden)

Lake Champlain sunset in February (Credit: Kristen Eden)

Essex-Charlotte ferry dock during late February sunset (Credit: Kristen Eden)

February 27, 2014
Fox & Squirrel

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h8vmPSvUNps]

When I was in middle school my parents moved our family from a circa 1876 manse in Wadhams that they’d restored gradually over a decade, to a new home tucked into a tree-lined meadow near Lake Champlain.

Formerly part of the Higginson farm, the homeowners association comprised a little over a half dozen camps and homes tucked between Rock Harbor and the Split Rock Wilderness Area. During the next two years before I headed off to boarding school this wild wonderland dished up a daily buffet of adventures.

Recently I’ve been remembering the spring that we discovered foxes. Or the foxes discovered us. In the spring of 1985 a pair of red foxes got themselves in the family way and unwittingly lured my brother, sister and me into a full-scale Vulpes vulpes obsession.

Red Fox Kits (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I don’t remember now if there were two or three fox kits, but I do remember that their mother would let them play around the house while she hunted for mice or freshened up the den or got her hair done or whatever it is that vixens do when they get a little time to themselves.

The kits played and wrestled and chased butterflies and explored while we studied their every move, first from the windows and then from the open front door and then from the steps of the front stoop.

Day by day they became more comfortable with us, and day by day my brother and sister and I grew more entranced. At first the kits were skittish but they gradually grew more comfortable with us. They tousled and nipped at each other in the sunshine a mere 6 to 10 feet away. As we became more and more obsessed with the idea of diminishing the distance between ourselves and the foxes, they too became curious about us. They watched us and came closer to sniff and inspect.

I was 13 at the time, the eldest of my siblings, and I probably should have spent more time considering the dangers of interacting with wild animals, but I didn’t. I’d abandoned prudence and reason. The beauty and playful nature of the rapidly growing kits had swept me up, eclipsing any common sense I might have possessed.

Red Fox cubs. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

No doubt it was my idea to see if we could entice the young foxes into the house. Little by little the kits followed the trail of snacks placed on the steps, on the landing, on the threshold, in the hallway… We gradually lured the young foxes into the kitchen where they sniffed briefly, nibbled the snacks and headed back outside. We were elated.

In hindsight, there was no meaningful reason to entice the foxes inside except curiosity. And challenge. And the almost primal thrill of interacting with beautiful, wild creatures.

I’m not quite sure how we managed this without my parents realizing what was going on. Perhaps it was early on weekend mornings. I don’t know, but somehow we managed over several weeks to overcome the foxes’ sense of caution and prudence. And then the adventure ended. I’d like to think we wised up, realized the danger of befriending the kits, the danger of having their mother return when the kits were inside. But probably my parents discovered our misguided obsession and abbreviated the adventure.

The memories flooded back this winter because that handsome (if somewhat short-legged) fox in the video clip above became a frequent Rosslyn visitor. Perhaps affected by the virtually snow-less conditions or more likely by my bride’s enthusiastic bird and squirrel feeding regimen, the fox made daily — and sometimes twice daily — tours of our front lawn. I was usually the one to spot him early in the morning while feeding Griffin breakfast, though Griffin’s attentive window watching served as a reliable early notification system.

Fox hunting for mid-morning snack. (Photo credit: virtualDavis)

It turns out that plump, well-fed squirrels are not only a tasty breakfast for a fox but they are also easy prey, unable to skitter up the ginkgo tree as quickly as necessary to escape the hungry hunter.

Despite the emotionally disturbing reality of observing any predator-prey showdown, the foxes cunning and efficiency intrigued me in the way the playful kits had more than a quarter century ago. I’ll save details for another time as I know that my bride suffers these descriptions. She’s informed my on multiple occasions that our yard is a safe haven for wildlife, which is a laudable decision, but difficult to enforce. So far we’ve failed to communicate the message to the foxes and hawks… Any suggestions?

April 26, 2012
Boathouse Repairs 6: Northside Post Wraps Installed

Supi Installing Northside Post Wraps (Photo: Peter Vaiciulis)

With the blizzard barreling into our neck of the woods, Peter and Supi hustled to wrap up installation of northside posts before snow stalls their progress.

Supi Installing Northside Post Wraps (Photo: R.P. Murphy)

These photos give the golden-lighted illusion that work conditions down at the boathouse are temperate and eminently agreeable. Reality is a bit different, of course. Temperatures have been damp and cold. And working on a manmade peninsula out into chilly, windy Lake Champlain isn’t for the delicate.

Northside Post Wraps (Photo: R.P. Murphy)

In the photo above the copper tops are as obviously absent as the railings. I had a “tin knocker” fabricate the copper tops almost a decade and a half ago. They’ve patinated handsomely in their demanding lakeside environment, and they’ve even endured a few dings from waterski fins, windsurfer booms, etc. over the years. So replace them, right? No way! We’re carefully removing the small copper nails that secure them, and we’ll reuse them once railings are in place. As if nothing ever changed!

Boathouse Northside Post Wraps Installed (Photo: R.P. Murphy)

Northside Posts Ready for Rails

The northside posts are s assigned and ready for Peter and Supi to install the railings. The railing components are being fabricated — almost done — and following the posts to Willsboro where Erin is priming and painting the components prior to installation. Lots. Of. Steps. Have I mentioned before that it takes a team?!?!

Boathouse Northside Posts Installed (Photo: Peter Vaiciulis)

That photo above shows new post wraps primed, re-sanded, and ready for another coat of primer. Then they’ll receive two coats of paint before being installed. Overkill, you’re wondering? Actually it’s future -proofing. An investment in longevity. Yes, historic rehabilitation is a perpetual balancing act between revitalizing the past and endeavoring to preserve these architectural artifacts well into the future. Onward!

December 17, 2022
“In Old Champlain” by Mills Brothers

1942 recording of “In Old Champlain” by Mills Brothers (Decca Records, 78rpm)

It’s time for another fun, local-ish song (or so I hope to discover) that just might celebrate the greatest of lakes, our one and only Lake Champlain. From the scarce little I’ve been able to learn about “In Old Champlain” (released in 1942 by Decca Records, performed by Mills Brothers, and music/lyrics by Cliff Friend and Charlie Tobias) it more likely pertains to a small town located near Rouses Point, New York.

Of course, I’m not even 100% certain that it relates to either, but I’m hoping that maybe, just maybe somebody out there — you, perhaps? — might able to help solve this mystery.

That’s right, today I’m sharing this crackly old audio recording (and an intriguing video montage based on the recording) with my perennial optimism that crowdsourcing this so far dead-ended research might illuminate it’s geographic/cartographic mooring. And I’m also hoping that lyrics — somewhat difficult to make out in this timeworn 78 — might manifest from the magical interwebs as well.

Audio of “In Old Champlain”

Enough with the details. “Can we skip to the good part?” No, not that good part. The poppy-scratchy but still pretty groovy 78 recording of “In Old Champlain” by Mills Brothers. Here. It. Is.

Hope you enjoyed that. And hope even more that you (or somebody within your rhizomic reach) can demystify the where this song is celebrating. Which Champlain are the Mills Brothers singing about?

Video Montage of “In Old Champlain”

I stumbled across this likely answer to my question. Champlain, New York is about a 45-50 minute drive north of us, close to the Canadian border. This video montage offers a pretty convince visual argument that the song is about this town located on the western shore of Lake Champlain. But, is the creator correct? Or merely inspired by the song’s title and lyrics?

If you enjoyed the song, spread the word. If you thought it stinks, spread the word. 😉 And maybe somebody will be able to help out. Thanks.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CoXV6uMOzJD/

February 6, 2023
Meadowmount and Rosslyn

Rosslyn boathouse photographed from Essex ferry dock (photo credit Steven Rochen)

What a pleasure to discover on Monday morning that the newest friend of the Rosslyn Redux Facebook page was Steven Rochen. Who you might ask? (Though, if you’re a Meadowmount School of Music alum, you probably already know!) Mr. Rochen first crossed my radar back in February of this year when I happened upon an interesting photograph of Rosslyn’s boathouse. The following was originally posted in “Rosslyn Boathouse in August 2005“:

Another Rosslyn boathouse sighting, this time discovered via Google Earth. The photo was taken by czechsteve on Panoramio.com on 2005/08/12 which is approximately one year before my wife and I purchased Rosslyn. The wooden Chris Craft on a mooring between our boathouse and the Essex ferry dock belonged to our neighbor, but he has since replaced it with a sailboat which is visible in more recent photographs.

If you go click through to the original photo and enlarge it, you can see the degree of disrepair that we inherited when we took ownership and began restoring this stately old maritime structure.

I have contacted the photographer to suggest a title because the image is currently untitled.

Update: Today is Wednesday, February 2, 2011 and I’ve just heard from the photographer:

I have added a title to your boathouse picture. Thanks for your input – I have seen that boathouse for many years (I’ve been coming for summers in the Adirondacks since I was a teenage student at the Meadowmount School of Music coming from Texas to study violin.)

Was the boathouse there in 1980? I don’t remember when I first saw it from the ferry crossing but I have always enjoyed seeing it – that is why I took the photo years ago…I can’t wait to see what you have done…

All best wishes! Steven Rochen – a.k.a. czechsteve!

Wonderful response. I’m excited to have made the connection, and I’m hoping that I may one day have the chance to meet Steven Rochen and give him a tour of the boathouse which has intrigued him for decades.

May 17, 2011
Rosslyn Roundup, May 4

Rosslyn boathouse, January 8, 2012 (Photo credit: Glenn Estus)

It’s time for another Rosslyn Roundup to share everything Rosslyn-related that I didn’t get a chance to post over the last few weeks. Champlain Valleysprings are unpredictable and exciting, sometimes arriving early (this year) and other times hiding behind rain, rain, rain (last year).

We’ve been celebrating our good fortune (quietly, with fingers crossed, while chewing on garlic cloves) that Spring 2012 has been considerably drier than Spring 2011. Remember the devastating Lake Champlain floods last year? For the better part of two months we experienced history making high water levels which inundated the Town of Essex and swamped Rosslyn boathouse under three feet of water for weeks on end. But we were lucky. Damage was minimal, and we recovered. Actually… we’re still recovering. Rebuilding the stone walls along the waterfront is ongoing, but that story for another blog post!

It’s a bit hard to believe that I launched the Rosslyn Redux blog just over a year ago. I’ve been finding my feet, trying to decide what goes into the book, what goes into the performance and what goes into the blog. I’m still filtering through artifacts and unadopted stories, but the most everything has fallen into place. The book (books? booklings?) are nearing their inevitable (and looong awaited) right of passage. And the blog, evolving in fits and starts has nevertheless averaged almost one post per week. Expect that rate to increase now that I’m in the homestretch with manuscripts.

Okay, enough bellybutton gazing. Well, almost enough. A couple of other interesting items to relay before plunging into the Rosslyn Roundup.

May Day was the busiest day on the blog ever! In addition to “Reawakening Rosslyn” which drew record readers, there were many people who showed up a day late to read “Old Glory & Mud Season“. The combination of these two posts included a magic elixir… If only I knew what it was! Please don’t hesitate to share your preferences for future posts, and I’ll do my best to honor your wishes.

I have to admit that I was pretty thrilled with the reception that “Reawakening Rosslyn” received. You may have already figured that it’s a central theme in the story of our epic home and property rehabilitation.

And as it turns out rattlesnakes are another hot topic. Between “Rosslyn Rattlesnake” and “Timber Rattlesnake: Fact, Fiction & Mystery” (posted on EssexonLakeChamplain.com) I seem to have tapped a universal fascination with poisonous pit vipers. Who would have anticipated that? Bizarre.

Less surprising, my post about cartoonist Sid Couchey was also well received. Proof that whether we all admit it or not, we all love cartoons! And if you ever met my Essex friend and neighbor, you’d love Couchey too. He will remain a local legend for many years to come. I feel fortunate each time I pass Couchey’s painting of Rosslyn boathouse which hangs in our morning room. I’ve decided that the fellow chatting with Champy — the Lake Champlain monster — at the end of the boathouse pier is the cartoonist himself. I’m listening carefully and hoping to hear the joke that they’re sharing.

Okay, about that roundup… Did you see that spooky photograph of Rosslyn boathouse at the top of this post? Spectacular. Eerie. The image is called “Essex, NY Boathouse #3” and it was shot on January 8, 2012 by local photographer, Glenn Estus. We have several of his photographs hanging on the walls at Rosslyn, and you can see plenty more in his Flickr feed if your interested.

Speaking of photographs, check out the new Rosslyn Redux board on Pinterest to see a growing collection of Rosslyn photographs shared by people all over the globe. Add your own photos, and I’ll heap praise and accolades upon you.

And you’ll find more photographs by me and others on the Rosslyn Redux Facebook page which has grown steadily in membership over the last year. If you’re not already a friend of the forthcoming Rosslyn Redux memoir, now’s the time. Please friend the page and feel free to share your thoughts. I look forward to hearing from you.

Enough. Weekend. Enjoy!

May 4, 2012
House of Dreams

House of Dreams (Quotation by Gaston Bachelard via Keri Smith)

Hat top to Keri Smith, one of my favorite doodlers (I’m talking about the short-short list!) for sharing this Eureka moment quotation on her blog.

In honor of Gaston Bachelard, I’d like to subtly bastardize the sentiment:

I should say: Rosslyn shelters day-dreaming, Rosslyn protects the dreamers, and Rosslyn allows us to dream in peace.

It’s not always 100% evident to me. When a foundation leak graces us with a basement flood. Or Lake Champlain spills out of her banks and into our boathouse. Nor when a 100+ year old maple tree succumbs to blasting winds and smashes the handmade fence. Etc.

But on afternoons like today, the smallest things, like the way the morning light illuminates the carriage barn windows, I know. I understand that this wonderful old, living and breathing home provides for us in innumerable ways every day. I know that Rosslyn is a house of dreams and daydreamers. And for this I am extremely grateful.

Thank you, Keri and Gaston for the timely reminder!

April 17, 2014