Over the last two weeks I’ve observed two young Pixie Crunch apple trees in our orchard succumbing to cedar-apple rust. Or so I suspect.
I’m no plant pathology expert. And I’m an eager but admittedly amateur pomologist. So my hypothesis that dread cedar-apple rust has infiltrated Rosslyn’s orchard may be premature and far off target. (Do you detect my optimism?) Perhaps one of my astute readers will be able to help sort this one out.
Is this cedar-apple rust on Rosslyn’s apple trees?
July delivered the heaviest pressure from Japanese beetles that we have experienced since arriving in Essex, and some of the fruit trees have been largely defoliated by the hungry visitors. (The iridescent buggers are especially fond of stone fruit.) But they don’t seem to be the culprits in the case of the colorfully mottled apple trees.
It’s worth noting that the Pixie Crunch are the only apple trees affected. I plant a diverse mix of fruit trees with usually no more than a couple of each individual variety. This seems to be a blessing because none of the other orchard trees appear to be affected. So far.
It’s also worth noting that the affliction doesn’t seem to kill the trees. It damages the lower leaves but allows new growth higher on the trees. While it is possible that the blight is slowly advancing upward, it does not appear to have spread further up the trees, only to have become more pronounced on the lower portions.
I’m hoping that the condition is not terminal, that it will not spread to other trees in the orchard, and – this is my my most ambitious pipe dream – that I’ve misdiagnosed the affliction as cedar-apple rust. After all, it is actually quite a beautiful coloring. Multicolored polka-dots, yellows and oranges against summer green. A new fashion trend?
But Pollyanna fancies aside, I’d like to identify it as soon as possible so that I can attempt to treat it so that the apple trees can recover and focus their energy on new growth instead of combating the disease. Or, worst case scenario, if it turns out to be something that is slowly killing the trees (and may infect other apple trees,) I’m inclined to remove the Pixie Crunch trees now and replace them this fall.
I welcome your feedback, and I will do my best to keep you posted as I learn more and try to resolve the problem.
So what do you think? Cedar-apple rust? Something else? Although I dread admitting it, I’m fairly convinced that we’re battling a light invasion of cedar-apple rust which has undoubtedly evolved quite happily, unimpeded in the old meadows, volleying back and forth between the native cedars and old abandoned apple trees.
To brace myself, I’m digging into the nitty-gritty details. Anticipate a more in-depth look at cedar-apple rust soon as it appears the most likely suspect, especially since we have several Eastern Red Cedars (Juniperus virginiana) nearby upon which I’ve frequently witnessed (and photographed) the telltale galls…
It’s that time of year again when we put the vegetable garden to sleep.
I’ve been asked if it isn’t bittersweet ripping out limp, frosted tomato plants and tilling under the rotting stems of zucchini and cantaloupe.
The leaves are gone and frost is frequent, but Rosslyn’s veggie patch is no crying matter. Far from it!
And you know, it really isn’t bittersweet. It’s a celebration of another bountiful summer, eating delicious, fresh produce harvested from a small plot of dirt a short walk from my kitchen. And it’s a celebration of the bounty yet to come. I know that sounds sort of “woo-woo” Pollyanna-ish, but I genuinely mean it. Putting this summer’s garden to bed is actually a way of starting on next summer’s vegetable garden.
I love composting almost as much as gardening!
Besides, there’s still so much happening in the garden. Shortly we’ll begin harvesting leeks and that’ll continue through Thanksgiving, maybe even Christmas if the ground doesn’t freeze.
I’ve stripped the Brussels sprouts in the hopes of fattening their frost-sweetened treats.
And I’ve just finished knocking most of the foliage off of our Brussels sprouts so they can continue to fill out. I’m about a month late, so it may not have as much effect as it would’ve otherwise. Under the best of circumstances this practice helps fatten up the sprouts.
The artichokes provide the only bittersweet harmony in my veggie patch lullaby. Out of a dozen plants, only six survived the swampy May and June early season. Plants that thrive in the sandy, dry, relatively temperate Monterey Peninsula struggle in clay soil flooded by rain after rain after rain. And of the six plants that survived, they developed slowly and bore no chokes. Three of the plants are at prime July first condition today! I’ve accepted that we won’t be eating any homegrown artichokes this year, but I’m not giving up hope for next year.
The Imperial Star artichokes remain healthy, but they failed to produce even a single choke this summer.
Given the decent artichoke crop me managed two summers ago and the outstanding bumper crop last year, I’m going to continue growing artichokes at Rosslyn. In fact, I’m going to undertake a bold experiment.
Ever since discovering that Imperial Star Artichokes can be grown successfully in our abbreviated norther season, I’ve been tempted to defy conventional wisdom.
Although artichokes in more forgiving climes can be grown as perennials, severe North Country winters and a short season require transplanting healthy, established juvenile artichokes and accepting that the crop will not endure from season to season.
It’s time to start harvesting the leeks, perfect timing for outside grilling and soup.
Annual artichokes are certainly better than no artichokes, but given our fruitless season I’ve decided to see if I can’t successfully overwinter our plants.
I plan to cut them back almost to their base once they’ve actually stopped growing and become dormant. And then, before we get any deep frosts or snow, I’ll bury the plants in straw, leaves and organic mulch to try and insulate them over the winter.
Nothing lost in trying!
November greens (and purples) that continue to nourish us.
And I’ve overlooked the still productive raised bed, still flush with greens. Although some of the spinach has browned off, and most of the kale is gone (some pest really did a number on it late this fall), the beets, beet “purples”, Swiss chard and lettuce continue to feed us.
So you see, the veggie patch lullaby is a happy, hopeful tune!
How do you feel when it’s time to put your veggie patch to bed for the winter?
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.
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.
Adirondack autumn is sliding stealthily into winter. I’d better accelerate my fall iPhonography retrospective so that I’m ready to chronicle Rosslyn’s soon-to-be-snowy winter. In order to fast track the process, I’ll [almost] skip the textual annotations that I included in Adirondack Autumn 2012: Part I and Adirondack Autumn 2012: Part II.
The video slide show above is story enough, I think, but there are a few images that beg explanation. There are several photos related to boating because me bride and I stretch the season as much as “comfortably” possible in the autumn. In fact, we stretch the whole season, starting early and ending late. Most years we are able to enjoy a six month sailing, windsurfing, waterskiing, wakesurfing season starting at the beginning of May and ending in the final days of October. So these images are a watersports swansong of sorts.
A more rigorous editor would have eliminated the “live simply” snapshot, but I love this t-shirt given to me by my sister-in-law. Sure, the graphic’s great, but it’s the reminder that I value each time I come across it on my t-shirt shelf. I’m hoping to play with the idea in a cartoon soon, a sequence of the simple pleasures of rural Adirondack living with the slightly ironic banner, “Live simply!” Stay tuned…
Veteran RR readers will know that the squirrels occupy a dramatic place in our Rosslyn lifestyle, so I won’t get into that here, but those images capture the quirks and charms of our “Adirondack monkeys”. Squirrel-proof birdfeeders? We’ve tried five varieties so far, but the squirrels always succeed. And the squirrel perched on the edge of the stone water trough? Just try to convince me he’s not peeing in the drinking water!
I included my ever growing collection of gardening books because I was reminded again this fall that gardening occupies my imagination even as the gardening season is ending. One might expect their enthusiasm for planting and weeding and landscaping and harvesting to flag after many months of spring-summer-fall gardening. But instead, my mind turns to next season. Adirondack autumn means fall planting. Maintenance. Changes. It’s been a busy fall for Rosslyn landscaping and gardening projects, but I’ll postpone these updates until later. And once the snow begins to fall I pull out the books again and begin to sketch plans for next spring, make lists and schedules, order seeds for indoor forcing,… By late winter when my seedlings are well underway in our basement under lamps, I’ll begin pruning fruit trees. In short, even in the Adirondacks gardening is a year round passion.
The shots of tempting chalkboard menus come from the Essex Ice Cream Cafe which for the first time (ever?) is open year-round for breakfast and lunch. And, soon, they’ll be launching a turn-back-the-clock delicacy that not only tastes sensational, but carries some personal satisfaction as well. More on that once the secret is no longer a secret and the most delicious maple-derived confection in the world is available again, more than a century after it was first produced in Essex. Okay, I’m teasing you. Details soon!
Perfect transition to that odd photo at about 1:02 in the slide show. What’s that?!?! Dog food, perhaps? Actually that was a memorable venison stew with spinach. Deer hunting is an important part of North Country culture and though I do not partake (I’m a poor gunner, and I find it difficult to shoot anything that can bat an eyelash at me,) I love venison. Several generous friends share with me each fall, and this stew was the best I’ve ever made. Lots of onions and wine get cooked down with the venison, and lentils and wild rice are added toward then end. The spinach was a last minute stir-in. So, it’s a feast for the belly, not the eyes.
The next picture, a step closer to eye candy, is broiled cabbage. Sounds unpromising. Try it. Delicious. I’ve made it several times, and it I can manage, I’ll share the ultra simple recipe soon. Even non-cabbage stalwarts love it!
I think that everything is self-explanatory. If not, let me know. Thanks for sharing our Adirondack autumn.
Almost orderly rows of zinnias, eggplants and tomatoes.
Deep purple (almost black) eggplant enjoying the shade.
I skipped the hot peppers this season and focused on several varieties of sweet peppers.
These slender, curving Asian eggplants are beautiful and delicious on the grill or in stews.
The foliage on the Brussels sprout plants looks like lace. Full of holes!
We’re enjoying a heavy melon crop including cantaloupe, musk melon and watermelon.
We overproduced artichokes last season, but this season’s been disappointing. Still no chokes!
Gangbuster cuke season! They’re getting too big too fast…
It’s been getting considerably cooler at night lately, and feeling fall-like much earlier than the last few years. We’ve already had two nights that broke forty degrees! But still no killing frost.
The vegetable garden is still thick with produce. We’ve been eating cantaloupes and musk melons just as quickly as we can. The same goes for eggplant and tomatoes. We’ve lost the battle with cucumbers which are getting so big they’re almost obscene. I have to apologize before giving them away as a gifts lest I offend someone with tender sensibilities. Fortunately they still taste good. The key is to slice them the long way and scoop out all of the seeds the same way you do with melons.
Several varieties of tomatoes have succumbed to blights. Fortunately the affliction hasn’t really damaged many tomatoes themselves, just the plants. It seems to primarily be an issue with the determinate varieties. 75% of the indeterminate plants are still growing like gangbusters, pumping out large, delicious heirloom tomatoes.
The zucchini seem to have gone dormant, although they’re still producing lots of blossoms. I would love to cook up some squash blossoms before the season ends, but haven’t managed to do it yet.
Lots and lots of sweet peppers too. And a full crop of green beans, spinach, lettuce, Swiss chard, and baby kale coming online soon. I grew a small quantity of beets with the intention of harvesting their “greens” (actually, their deep purple/red). We ate about half of the crop in our salads this summer, but at this point many of them have grown into full grown beets. So we’ll end up harvesting those as well this fall.
What else? The Brussels sprouts are just beginning to set, so I need to snap off most of the foliage to concentrate their energy into sprouts. We pulled up all the corn stocks and composted them. The leaks will be ready to start harvesting in about a month, and only the artichokes have failed to produce. After last summer’s bumper crop, it’s a mystery. Half of the plants succumbed to root rot during the rainy month of June. And the half dozen plants that lived are runty and unproductive. To date none have set even the smallest of chokes. Not giving up yet though…
Early Autumn? The weather Channel tells the story…
Autumn appears to be coming early this year. For at least a week nights have been dropping into the chilly 50s. And this morning I see that temperatures slid even lower.
Perhaps this is normal? Yet it doesn’t seem normal. The 40s in mid August? In Essex, New York? On the shores of Lake Champlain which usually acts as a “heat sink” effectively extending our warm season?
Early Autumn’s Reminder
Early Autumn? The thermometer outside my bedroom verifies the chilly story…
Whether or not early autumn is here to stay, it’s serving as a reminder. Get out and enjoy the temperate weather before it’s gone. Today and tomorrow promise to be sunny and warm, perfect days for cycling and hiking and gardening. Perhaps even windsurfing? Or wake surfing? Hopefully one or the other!
And there’s another goal I’ve set but neglected for several years. I’d like to make a habit of working in the boathouse for a few hours away from my study, my desk, my piles and files. No better time than the present. No better motivator than a crisp, early autumn morning when I can faintly see my breath in the sir as Griffin sniffs around the yard. Soon it will be too cold to work in the boathouse. Soon…
Anticipating Autumn
Of course, early autumn whispers aren’t all “Caution!” and “Carpe diem…” After all, Adirondack autumns might well be the finest time of the year. The harvest reaches its peak. The hiking and biking are unquestionably superior to all other times of the year. Photography. Sunsets. Sailing. Fly fishing. Fall foliage. The day the ginkgo leaves shower down…
In short, August’s recent summer lullaby marks both a bittersweet ending and a joyful beginning. It’s a time to savor summer’s delicacies and anticipate autumn adventures ahead. I think I’ll call a chum and bum a sail!
The first sweetcorn I’ve harvested from our vegetable garden this summer. Crisp, sweet, fresh, delicious!
It was chilly this morning, low 50s, having apparently hit 49 in the still-dark hours before I woke.
Not unpleasant chilly, just a little reminder that a month from now this will begin to be normal. Days like today with sunny skies feathered with wispy clouds and puffs of crisp wind will whisper, “Ready for autumn?”
But not yet. This midsummer morning is just a preview. And a reminder to soak up all that is vibrant about early August. The first sweetcorn harvested from our vegetable garden. So crisp, so sweet, so fresh.
A pausing butterfly, black and white wings opening and closing as if the fragile creature is inhaling, exhaling, inhaling. Resting beneath a blueberry bush.
Sea glass (or “lake glass”, perhaps?) from Rosslyn’s Lake Champlain waterfront in Essex, New York.
The recently completed standing seam roof on the carriage barn, insurance against winters’ snowfalls and architectural parity with the ice house. At last.
A collection of sea glass and pottery fragments piled on the stone retaining wall by our boathouse. A gift from Lake Champlain.
The newest arrival in a parade of daylilies. A petite variety near the waterfront with centers as yellow as the sweetcorn, stretching decadently into the garnet petals.
This is the bittersweet romance of early August. As midsummer’s bounty reaches its extravagant apex, we glimpse brief hints of autumn flitting in the distance like a mirage.
I remember to take advantage of the present. Before it is gone.
More Midsummer Mementos
Here are a few additional midsummer mementos. I first typed, “Here are a few final midsummer mementos.” But I caught myself. Final? I suspect not… 😉
The newest addition to the 2013 Rosslyn daylily extravaganza.
I saw this tuxedo’ed butterfly resting beneath a blueberry bush.
The new standing seam roof on Rosslyn’s Carriage Barn is done at last. Hurray!
Have you ever heard of Camp Cherokee for Boys in Willsboro? If so, I’d love to learn more. So far the details are pretty thin…
Campfire, Camp Cherokee for Boys, Willsboro, NY (postcard, front)
As we roll into the final days of 2022, I’ve been attempting to streamline my end-of-year projects. And while the prospect of simply deleting lingering items on the perennial punch list is tempting, I’m instead shuffling priorities against the incoming year’s timeline. Yes, some oldies have sat long enough that they’ve moldered into irrelevance. Delete! Others, like today’s artifact (an antique postcard for an extinct summer camp), were probably somewhat superfluous since day one (this draftling — an especially brief stub awaiting development — originated on May 18, 2017!), but they continue to intrigue me. Not ready to delete yet. And so I bring to you an unabashedly abbreviated post showcasing a postcard from Camp Cherokee for Boys. Once upon a time this small summer camp existed on Willsboro Point, possibly not too far from Camp-of-the-Pines. Today neither lakeside retreat endures, but I’m hoping that sharing this vintage postcard just might gin up a little more information.
Crowdsource Kindling
With an eye to kindling this fledgling crowdsource initiative into existence, I’ll share what little I’ve been able to ascertain thus far.
According the A Handbook of Summer Camps: An Annual Survey, Volume 3 which was published in 1926 by Porter Sargent, Camp Cherokee for Boys was located “at Willsborough Point” which may simply mean somewhere on Willsboro Point, but also might suggest that it was actually located a the tip of the peninsula?
This introductory blurb vaguely locates three summer camps located within the vicinity.
Willsborough is north of Essex. Camp Pok-O-Moonshine is on Long Pond near the foot of Peak Pok-O-Moonshine. Camp Pocahontas is on the shore of Lake Champlain, two miles east of the village. At Willsborough Point is Camp Cherokee. (p. 388, A Handbook of Summer Camps: An Annual Survey, Volume 3)
Scrolling down a little further to the bottom of page 388 and the top of 389 we can read the following blurb about Camp Cherokee for Boys.
Here’s a more legible swipe at the blurry image above.
CAMP CHEROKEE, P. O. Willsborough, N. Y. Alt 110 ft. Harold K. Van Buren, 508 National Bldg., Cleveland, Ohio. For boys 8-14 Enr. 30 Staff 10 Est. Fee $300.
Cherokee limits its enrollment to thirty boys. Mr. Van Buren is director of Educational Research, National School Club, Cleveland, Ohio, and with him is associated the Rev. Henry S. Whitehead. Ph.D., an Episcopal clergyman who is also a short story writer. Although the camp is conducted under Episcopal auspices, the enrollment is not limited to boys of that faith. A varied program of athletics, aquatics, woodcraft and dramatics is provided. Much attention is paid to trips to the well known Adirondack peaks, as well as a sight seeing trip to Montreal. Tutoring may also be provided without extra charge. (p. 388-9, A Handbook of Summer Camps: An Annual Survey, Volume 3)
The affiliation between Van Buren and the Cleveland based educational research institution is curiosity inspiring. Hoping to learn a bit more about that, and, of course, about the Messieurs Van Buren and Whitehead. The latter appears in a 1926 publication from the Alumni Council of Columbia University, although the relevant clipping is too small and to be readily legible.
If your eyes are as strained as mine by attempting to decipher that blurry blob of timeworn text, here’s a more legible transcription.
Whitehead spends his summers at Lake Champlain. There he is associated with Mr. H. K. Van Buren who is director and proprietor of Camp Cherokee for Boys at Willsboro and together they have worked out constructive new theories on boys’ camps with satisfactory results. (p. 398, Columbia Alumni News, Alumni Council of Columbia University, 1926)
There’s a bit of curiosity bait in there as well. For example, why would two contemporaneous publications refer to the same town but spell the name differently. One is tempted to assume that the older spelling, Willsborough, was at some point replaced by the newer spelling, Willsboro. Perhaps this was the period of transition? I wonder. And then there’s the rather clinical reference to the two men developing “constructive new theories on boys’ camps with satisfactory results.” I suppose that better-than-satisfactory results might have better assured the longevity of this no longer extant summer camp. Of course, administering an enterprise of this sort with fewer than three dozen clients seems like another ill conceived component. It would be challenging to mathematically ensure viability for this business model for long. But maybe this too is a question of age/time and transition. It’s clear that once upon a time small camps and schools managed to thrive with far smaller populations than they do today. At least for a while…
In closing, I’m soliciting any/all knowledge of the former Willsboro Point summer camp known as Camp Cherokee for Boys. Thanks in advance!
Campfire, Camp Cherokee for Boys, Willsboro, NY (postcard, back)
[pullquote]Griffin “polar bear plunges” in 35° Lake Champlain… mid-winter swimming bliss![/pullquote]
Griffin, our now almost nine year old Labrador Retriever, was thrilled with to chase some throw-toys in the chilly lake today despite the fact that it’s February 19 and the water temperature is exactly three days above freezing… 35° of mid-winter swimming bliss!
Here’s a fuzzy but joyful glimpse into one of about a dozen of Griffin’s “polar bear plunges”.
We just returned to Essex and were quite excited about the recent snowfall. Last year’s virtually snowless winter was a bummer. No skiing in winter followed by alarmingly low lake levels due to unusually low levels of spring melt and runoff. Up until the last couple of weeks this winter has been similarly snow-free, so having a chance to spend the morning cross country skiing around Rosslyn’s woods, trails, and meadows with my bride and dog was a welcome change. And the perfect warm-up for Griffin’s February swim…
I was recently accused, tenderly but definitively, of being obsessed with locale, and more precisely, with my connection to place. As a lifelong wanderer, this struck me as slightly ironic. And accurate.
By now my fixation on hyperlocality and placeness (aka the poetics of place) have become inextricably woven into the entirety of Rosslyn Redux, the robust and resilient fiber that holds it all together, or — as popularized in the parlance of contemporary talking heads — the “connective tissue” of this protracted inquiry into our decision to purchase and rehabilitate Rosslyn as a foundational platform for our small family’s life (and lifestyle) reboot.
From 1999 to 2003 I was living and working in Europe. Mostly Paris, France. But Rome, Italy had become a second base by the end of that exciting chapter, a period that started with teaching and coaching at the American School of Paris and evolved into co-founding and launching Maison Margaux, an exclusive vacation rental startup, and Margaux Europe Group, a boutique travel platform. My business partner and I had based these businesses in New York City, and this third base of my globetrotting existence became even more important in the summer of 2001 when Susan and I discovered one another and tumbled head over heals into an intoxicating transatlantic romance.
In those years I prided myself with what I had dubbed immersion travel rather than tourist travel. The Margaux Project was founded on this distinction. Deep travel. Authentic travel. Meaningful travel. Transformative travel. Human-centric vs. travel brochure scrapbook travel… My love affairs with Paris and Rome (indeed even with New York City) were complex and enriching and multifaceted. We wanted to provide a means for discerning clients to experience Paris, Rome, (and eventually Barcelona, intended at the time to become our third property) with the nuanced richness; genuine, unadulterated texture; and personal intimacy that we had both come to appreciate.
But I was a committed and unabashed global nomad. By choice. By conviction. The dissonance didn’t really phase me at the time!
Wanderlust vs. Connection to Place
This fundamental duality — a peripatetic wanderer drawn to unique locales and connection to place — is at the heart of the thread I call Wanderlust to Houselust. I’ve learned through our Rosslyn years that I am both migratory and rooted. For many years I understood myself as a perennial vagabond, and I celebrated the carefreedom and independence that my work/life amalgam allowed.
But building a loving family and a profoundly fulfilling lifestyle around placeness (Rosslyn, Essex, Lake Champlain, the Adirondacks, the North Country,..) has taught me how important community and connection to place are to me. It’s also helped me understand that I’m not either/or… not nomad OR potted plant.
Life, my life, is more complex than I’d understood despite developing Maison Margaux and Margaux Europe Group around the philosophy of immersion travel — journeying more authentically and meaningfully, interacting rather than travel-skimming. Certainly my need for connection to place was there, but I didn’t recognize what it was. Now I do. And I understand that the meaningful authenticity, the human-to-human interaction, the belonging that had drawn me to a specific type of travel was precisely what fueled my early enthusiasm for living in Essex. It was connection to place that had always enticed me. I just didn’t know it.
I turn afield this afternoon to share with you a growing collection of vintage postcards and miscellaneous artifacts featuring Camp-of-the-Pines in Willsboro, New York. To be 100% transparent from the outset, my aspiration is twofold:
I want to solicit community knowledge about this [apparently] no longer extant Lake Champlain neighbor.
I want to showcase our remarkably robust collection of vintage artifacts for this intriguing one-time travel destination.
By way of introduction and orientation, let’s navigate north from Rosslyn along the Adirondack shore of Lake Champlain in a skiff or a sailboat (so long as the draft is not too great). Northbound you’ll observe some but not many homes and camps partially concealed by foliage. Before long we’ll discover the Boquet River delta which extends a sandy bar far out into the broad lake south of the Four Brothers Islands. After the river a large holding with several discreetly sited residences yields to a cluster of buildings that—once upon a time, according to these artifacts—might have been Camp-of-the-Pines (aka Camp of the Pines). I say “might” because this is my best guess, and waaay down the path of conjecture. My hypothesis may well prove mistaken.
Okay, let’s dive in!
Community Crowd Sourcing
For about a decade Katie Shepard has been sharing our Rosslyn and Essex-area artifacts (mostly antique and vintage postcards) on our community’s social media channels to celebrate local heritage and crowdsource the postcards’ many familiar and sometimes unfamiliar subjects. She published the postcard above back in August 2017, but unlike many artifacts there wasn’t much familiarity with this historic Willsboro destination. In fact, this was the only message received by a reader.
Despite enthusiastic familiarity, we learned little. Katie’s forensic fact finding focused on the information available on the postcard itself.
According to the caption along the top of the postcard this is an aerial shot of Camp of the Pines in Willsboro, NY with Vermont and the Four Brothers Islands on Lake Champlain in the distance. — Katie Shepard (Source: essexonlakechamplain.com)
The backside of the postcard offered a little more insight.
Camp of the Pines, Willsboro, NY (postcard)
The back side of the postcard shown below gives us a bit more information:
CAMP-of-the-PINES, Willsboro, NY “Where Lake Champlain is at its Best” Single rooms to private cottages with Central Dining Room Modern Appointments — Sports Private Sand Beach
In short, it appears that Camp of the Pines was a Willsboro summer “camp” on Lake Champlain. But where? And when?
Katie’s sleuthing draws our attention to the postmark date which appears to be August 8, 1956 which she deduces must have been during operation of Camp of the Pines. But when did it start and cease to operate? Where exactly was it located? And what happened to the property after it concluded its days as a commercial venture. Does it still remain intact? Changed? Has it become a private residence?
Camp of the Pines Artifacts
What follows are additional historic artifacts/images of Camp of the Pines. Perhaps one will trigger some useful tidbits of information, a memory, a backstory, maybe even an epilogue?
Let’s start with this 1940 brochure advertising a June 29 thorough September 3 vacation season at Camp of the Pines.
Camp of the Pines (Source: 1940 brochure)
Vintage gold! If your eyes struggle with the fuzzy letters, here’s a transcription of the paragraphs on the right side.
Health, happiness and good fellowship await you at CAMP-of-the-PINES on Lake Champlain during your vacation days.
Amid the peace and glories of Nature you will find plain, comfortable accommodations, restful beds, an abundance of good food, and the courteous service of a Christian Camp.
So, we’re on to something. A Christian summer camp. And the map on the left side is somewhat helpful as well, generally locating the camp more or less as I’ve described above. Let’s dive deeper into the brochure.
Camp of the Pines (Source: 1940 brochure)
The next two pages of the brochure are replete with intereresting information and are transcribed in full.
Accessibility
CAMP-of-the-PINES is located on Lake Champlain less than two miles from Willsboro, Essex County, New York.
The New York-Albany-Montreal highway and the Delaware & Hudson Railroad station are a mile and a half distant, while Port Kent, the western terminus of the Burlington Ferry is a short drive to the north.
The Village of Willsboro maintains good stores, a well-equipped library, a bank, several churches, telegraph office and garages, and enjoys the services of a highly trained physician.
The Camp is a kingdom apart, far enough from any road to insure perfect quiet and freedom from intrusion of every sort, but reached over an improved highway.
Points of Interest
Drives to and from widely renowned historical and beauty spots can be made in one day — Ausable chasm, Whiteface Mountain, Fort Ticonderoga, Lake Placid, Lake George, John Brown’s Grave, The Heart of the Adirondacks, and the cities of Plattsburg, Burlington, Saratoga, Montreal and other points of interest. Two bridges span Lake Champlain within easy driving distance of the Camp.
Mountains and Lake
Lake Champlain in its nine-mile width and 136 mile length offers an unusual opportunity for trips by sail and power boats.
This histories lake, far-famed for its beauty and grandeur and the glory of its mountain environment, makes the Camp site one of the most fascinating in the East.
From all points on the shore line of the Camp estate more than thirty miles of magnificent views, together with broad, entrancing lake vistas up to twenty males in extent, greet the eye.
With tho stately and picturesque Adirondacks stretching off to the West, the majestic Green Mountains silhouetted against the Eastern sky and the great blue Lake Champlain nestled in between, the location of CAMP-of-the-PINES is ideal for nature-lovers and those seeking new and broader outlooks.
Sunrise and sunset may be from the Camp and the moonlight, casting a silvery path over the broad expanse of clear water backed by the majestic mountains, is romance itself.
A quiet bay on which the Camp property is located affords the safety of a small lake, with none of its disadvantages.
The large tract of land with its gradual rise from the beach, enjoys isolation from other properties and has a long shore line presenting extensive lake and mountain view. One-half of the tract covered by majestic pine woods and the other by open fields where one may absorb health-giving sunshine in abundance.
There is no low or marsh land and fog is practically unknown. This locality is renowned for the absence of mosquitoes, black flies and other mountain pests. Dry mountain air, clear skies, cool nights and comfortable days are the rule.
The Camp is aptly named — tall, stately pines spread their branches above the buildings and tents which are scattered along the shore and up the easy hill side — fragrant pine needles of other years softy carpet the walks and woods.
The Club Plan
It is the aim of the Camp management to limit its clientele to guests of refinement and common interests and so maintain a happy, genial and inspiring camp atmosphere. To contribute to the maintenance of this ideal, guests will be limited to members of the CAMP-of-the-PINES VACATION CLUB.
Membership in the Club may be secured upon written application. Blanks for application will be sent upon request. The payment of a nominal fee of one dollar for each adult admits the applicant to full membership for one year. This amount will be returned to anyone whose application is not accepted and to any not making use of the Camp facilities, if desired. The Club dues will be used in their entirety, and under direction of a committee, to provide vacations for for worthy persons who, otherwise, could not enjoy the benefits of rest and change.
The Meals
Choice vegetables grown on the Camp Farm are gathered daily, just prior to their use, thereby retaining that sweetness and freshness which make them so appetizing. Milk and fresh eggs from the same source are served. Guests will find tables supplied with an abundance of wholesome, seasonable, well-prepared home cooked food. Ample portions and repeated servings are the pride of the Camp.
Camp of the Pines (Source: 1940 brochure)
Healthful Sports
Boating, bathing, swimming, motor boat rides, aquaplaning, fishing, tennis, croquet, handball and other games provide the guests with out-of-door exercise. Indoor games, dancing, singing and entertainments afford pleasant occupation and offer opportunities for wholesome social intercourse.
Safe and clean row boats may be rented by the day or week.
Camp guests have access for a modest fee to a golf course adjoining the camp property.
Camp Store
The Camp store supplies guests with pure refreshments, toilet articles, souvenirs, cards, magazines and many of the away-from-house necessities.
Fishing
In addition to the fishing in Lake Champlain, many small lakes, ponds and streams in the vicinity lure the ardent fisherman, while broad fields, shady glens and mountain wilderness attract the naturalists.
A limited number of children can be accommodated but children under fifteen are not expected unless accompanied by an adult.
Persons with a communicable disease cannot be accommodated.
No alcoholic beverages will be sold, served or permitted in the Camp.
Dogs are not allowed.
Roughing It In Comfort
Guest accommodations consist of one-room cabins with private bath (toilet, lavatory and shower); Duplex cabins with semi-private bath; Twin cottage rooms (with and without running water) or weather-proof tents with board floors, wooden wainscots and frames and electric lights.
All buildings are located among the pines at the edge of the woods, have porches and are completely screened.
The Camp property is electronically lighted throughout and has modern appointments and sanitation with both tub and showers.
There is an abundance of hot water at all times in shower rooms and bathrooms and available by pitcher service in your tent or room.
Fresh bed linen and summer blankets will be supplied. Woolen blankets may be rented at the office. Guests provide themselves with towels, washcloths, soap and heavy blankets.
Unusually Fine Beach
The broad, gently sloping sand beach, free from depressions and stones, affords bathers an opportunity to wade out in safety, a long distance from the shore. The clear blue waters of the lake make bathing and swimming a real pleasure and the clean, sand beach affords ideal conditions for sun baths.
This stretch of private sand beach is a favorite place for all ages. Beyond the bathers’ beach is a beach for swimmers where a float is provided, affording good diving.
Morn ‘til Night — It’s Fun!!
Particularly those vacationing alone will enjoy the friendly, family atmosphere and the daily program of entertainment and activities.
There is a continual tug-of-war between the beach with its suppers, swimming and aquaplaning and the Recreation Hall with its sings, games and dancing. Organized hikes and tournaments, badminton, horseshoes, croquet and tennis fill the days.
Guests who remember with pleasure motor-boat rides will have cause for even more pleasant memories of rides in the new 27-foot inboard motor boat which makes for initial appearance in the 1940 season.
What to Expect and What to Bring
From the pines themselves springs the gracious hospitality of the Camp. Like them it will not smother you with a too heady nearness — neither will it leave you lonely. Your vacation here is your OWN, to spend as you will — strenuously or restfully — in solitude or in refreshing companionship. You will live informally in informal clothing. The simplicity and ease with which living is accomplished is a boon to tired minds and bodies.
Everything about CAMP-of-the-PINES encourages out-of-door life and we suggest that guests bring comfortable walking shoes, camp clothing, both heavy and light, fishing tackle, tennis rackets, bathing suits, golf clubs and musical instruments.
Guests are encouraged to make CAMP-of-the-PINES a place of happy, helpful friendships and to arrange for parties of friends to come with them and to visit them. A cordial welcome awaits you and the assurance of days filled with rest and recreation which will send you back to the daily grind with renewed health and inspiration.
1949 Adirondack Guide Advertisement
Nine years after circulating the impressively detailed Camp-of-the-Pines brochure above, Camp-of-the-Pines featured prominently in this 1949 Adirondack Guide.
Camp-of-the-Pines advertisement from 1949 Adirondack Guide. (Source: Adirondack Guide via David Brayden)
I’m especially intrigued by mention of the “adjoining golf course” which possibly helps pinpoint the location of Camp-of-the-Pines. (Many thanks to David Brayden for providing this artifact!) Personal our broader community will be able to connect some of the dots so far?
Camp-of-the-Pines Inside Out
As of now, I still have only a very slender perspective on the interior of Camp-of-the-Pines, but the two images below offer a glimpse from within.
Camp of the Pines, View from dining room window
If that blurry, time patinated photograph doesn’t mislead me, it looks as if the dining room view overlooks the Four Brothers Islands and Burlington, Vermont beyond.
The following postcard takes us into a space referenced in the brochure above, the Recreation Hall.
Camp of the Pines, “The Hub” Recreation Hall (front)
I include the reverse side of the postcard because the small description has become familiar at this point.
Camp of the Pines, “The Hub” Recreation Hall (front)
Camp-of-the-Pines From Above
I’ll wrap up, for now, with an aerial view of the property. This perspective helps orient us along the Willsboro shoreline on Point Road, possibly suggesting a location north of the Boquet River, south of Willsboro Point, and adjoining the Willsboro Golf Course.
Camp of the Pines, Areal View (front)Camp of the Pines, Areal View (back)
In Conclusion
I have to admit that I’m still thin on conclusions (and even a little thin on conjecture). But I’m optimistic that this post *might* little-by-little elicit further insights from our readers. And I recollect acquiring a couple of additional artifacts that I can’t currently locate, so I may be able to update this post with some more objects to study and consider. I also recollect taking some photographs from a boat a few summers ago. Maybe I can locate those as well…
Update
Many thanks to newspaper “archeologist”, Paul Harwood, who discovered this snippet about Ed Grady, the owner of Camp-of-the-Pines in September 15, 1949.
Ed Grady, owner Camp-of-the-Pines (Source: Ticonderoga Sentinel, September 15, 1949, via Paul Harwood)
Chopping Wood Sends Troy Man To Hospital PLATTSBURG — A clothesline and an ax combined to send Edward Grady, 25, of Troy, to the Champlain Valley Hospital here for treatment late Monday afternoon. Grady, according to State Police, was engaged in chopping wood at his camp “Camp in the Pines” at Willsboro Paint. The ax struck a clothesline, was deflected and inflicted a gash Grady’s forehead. Eight stitches were required to close the wound. Grady returned to his camp after receiving treatment.
