Dave's Travel Adventures: Alexandria Bay and Lake Placid (NY)

Various Trips of 1996 (Part Three)

ALEXANDRIA BAY, NY – AUGUST 1996

We took a day trip down to the Altamont Fairgrounds to see a Bagpiper Corps perform. Hundreds of bagpipes playing at once was music to my Scottish ears, but it was hot that day. And with no shade anywhere, it gave me quite the headache, thus difficult to enjoy. Seeing any Bagpiper Corps is worth the visit no matter where you are, hence this brief entry.

There are bus trips which leave from Glens Falls which were relatively inexpensive, so we looked to see if there were any we could do. The fun of a bus trip is you park at the depot, and then they do the driving the rest of the way. Advantages are you don’t have to find a place to park, or figure arrangements for food. The disadvantages are you’re on their schedule, so you may not be able to stay as long as you want, or you can’t wander too far from the tour group. Bus tours are worth checking into nevertheless.

We found one which was heading to Alexandria Bay, and Molly suggested that would be a good one to take. I agreed with that idea, although it was a tad bit surprising. Since my family had the cottage near Cape Vincent (which was only about thirty minutes away) she never expressed interest in doing anything on that side of the state. I figured this might be a good way to open up that area to her.

The main target of the tour was Boldt Castle. I’d been there once, back in the late 1970s when we were just visiting the Thousand Islands region. (This was before the ownership of the cottage transferred to my material grandfather and his daughters, thus becoming our regular summer destination.) When I was there last time, it was just an abandoned castle on an island with overgrown yards and muddy pathways. The interior, although still in good structural shape, was covered in graffiti. It was cold and rainy when I was there last, so it would interesting to see this place in the warm sun.

The ride up was nice, as we talked, played cards, and generally joked around. That was good to do without having to pay attention to traffic. We drove past Clayton (one of my old summer haunts) and arrived in Alexandria Bay. I noticed there was a lot of activity around the castle, and learned that a restoration project was underway. I was glad to know that after fifty-something years this place would finally be completed.

Boldt Castle began as a dream of a New York City hotel owner who decided to build a “summer home” here. George Boldt wanted build a full-sized castle for his wife, and the construction started in 1900. A mere four years later, Mrs. Boldt died suddenly, and then Mr. Boldt halted work, and told all the workers to leave. Why continue building something if the person you’re building it for isn’t there any more, so George Boldt abandoned the project, and never returned to the area. The property remained in his family until the late 1970s, which at that point it was assumed by the Thousand Islands Bridge Authority.

The main portion of the castle hadn’t had a lot of restoration work done on it yet, because the Thousand Islands Bridge Authority (who was in charge of the project) had decided to work on the smaller outer buildings first. While the inside of the actual Boldt Castle was still covered in graffiti as I remembered it, but the rest of the buildings no longer looked like a bunch of ruins. The muddy pathways were now covered in gravel, and the grounds where actually mowed. I was impressed at how much had changed, and surprised that during all the summers at Camp we’d never wandered up to watch the progress.

One structure was now completed, which was the tower at the water’s edge. Actually known as Alster Tower, but referred to as the “play house,” this was actually meant to be a place for George Boldt’s kids to have fun in. In reality it was where the Boldt’s lived while the Castle was being constructed. This had normal-sized ceilings, and a decent amount of space spread out over the five floors. I don’t want much, but something this size would be enough space for me to live in. Ignore all the gamer fantasies about living in a tower please.

I was in the process of writing a novel of about how the survivors react to most of the world’s population mysteriously vanishing overnight. Using the “write what you know” theory, I’d based all the characters on my friends, and the settings at various places I’d been. But during the writing, I didn’t quite know what exactly I was going to do with it, or where the story was going. Because I’d visited Brian in Harrisburg not too long ago, I’d started to work in elements of that region to the tale. The camera ended up remaining in its pouch as story ideas shot through my mind. I decided this would be the climax for my tale. It would be the perfect place for my tormented main character to go into self-exile, and deal with the information he’d uncovered about the plot’s adversary. Since the tower was finished, that’s where my story would end, and knowing that I could start working on how it’d get there.

I jotted down a bunch of notes about the area, including a small island cave about a mile away known as “Devil’s Oven” that I thought I could use. I think Molly got annoyed because I wasn’t paying much attention to her during the trip. She wasn’t all that impressed with the novel-in-progress because I hadn’t worked a character based on her into it yet. Now that I had some new information, I promised I’d do so.

The trip back was good, even though I tried to note down what information I could on random bits of paper. I still had grabbed a brochure to use as a resource. But here was something of historical value which had practically been under my nose all those years at the Camp. Now that I knew it was in motion, I figured I’d come back every couple years or so to see the progress of it. In the end, the bus trip to Alexandria Bay turned out to be much better than I’d expected.

LAKE PLACID, NY – OCTOBER 1996

Technically our anniversary is in early September, around Labor Day, which was a rather crazy time at work. We decided to do the actual celebration with a weekend trip when it would be less busy, so our Lake Placid trip would be in mid-October. We stayed at the same Econo Lodge as we did before (the one just outside the village proper), since we knew what type amenities it had.

This was an “in-between” period of the area. The summer season wrapped up in Labor Day, and it wasn’t cold enough to start any winter festivities, so most of the venues weren’t in operation. They weren’t closed, so you could go an explore them. We headed back over the bobsled area, because during this time visitors were allowed to walk the track. The bobsled run in essentially a cement pathway which had equipment underneath to generate the icy surface. None of the equipment comes to the surface, in order to make it smooth as possible. That’s why visitors are allowed to walk on it, as they’re foot traffic is unlikely to damage it (unless you’re Superman stomping your feet).

As Lake Placid had the distinction of having hosted two Olympic games (1932 and 1980), a lot of the venues from the first were able to be used in the second. After we left the bobsled area, we headed east along Route 86, and came to the front side of Whiteface Mountain (which is where the downhill ski events took place). Being in the Adirondack Mountains during October meant is was during the Fall Foliage period, when the formerly green leaves during various shades of red and orange before finally falling to the ground. It’s very pretty to see.

The pathways on the front of Whiteface are an optical illusion, because from this distance they seem so narrow. You think no one in their right mind would ski down what essentially is a tunnel through trees. Okay, skiing at high speeds is not something I ever found too bright in the first place, so I never got into it as a sport. But the trails are rather wide. From the base of the trails (where the ski runs would end), I went up the mountain for a short distance in order to have a photographic representation to show why it’s a visual illusion. I’m the small white dot in the center of the shot, which you can tell is me holding my arms out. That allows you to see how wide this trails are, so the experienced skier can navigate easily which the fear of a tree jumping out in front of them.

The lodge at the base wasn’t open (which was no surprise), and we were going to get food once we got back to the village. We left the ski area and continued east along the Veteran’s Memorial Highway, which brought us around the backside of Whiteface Mountain. The engine on Molly’s Neon strained as we went up the gradual route and switchbacks which brought us to the top. The view of the area was stunning. I’d seen these before, even as far back as hikes with the Boy Scouts, and I still find them majestic every time I see them.

The castle at the top of Whiteface was open, so we could take a bathroom break, before heading up to the top. Looking out among the peaks was the actual Lake Placid for which the region is named. Thanks to legislation signed by the NY Governor back in 1885, this whole area (referring to the Adirondack Park itself, not just the Lake Placid region) was deemed protected, and is the largest state park in the Lower 48. Looking out over the forested mountain peaks, even though there was a lot of logging is the early 19^th Century, these views are the same for what the first European explorers saw, and what the native people enjoyed everyday for countless generations before that.

When at top of Whiteface Mountain, there are no guard-rails to obstruct the view and to keep morons from toppling over. The rocky edges are very a “at your own risk” venture as you wander about. There’s a few pillars set around which have the pay-binoculars to get closer views of the peaks, but they’d been all put in storage at the end of the summer season.

Whiteface tops out at over 4,800 feet, so it’s not one of the largest mountains in the area, but that’s still a respectable size. On the lower elevation, the October weather was cool, but comfortable. After going up a couple thousand feet of elevation, the temperature dropped significantly; and that’s before the wind-chill factor. We were smart enough to bring our winter coats with us. It was chilly to lay on the rocks for the “I was here” picture, but it was less-chilly than to stand in the wind.

From there, we headed back down the Memorial Highway and into the village of Lake Placid. We got cleaned up, and then headed to an early dinner at one of the finer establishments in the area. Figured it was a good way to treat ourselves. This was only a weekend trip, but it was what was needed to mark the celebration. We’d been here in the winter and fall now, so we figured a spring and summer trip would be coming before too long. Thinking about how the mountains looked with the Fall Foliage, I knew the view would still breathtaking when the oranges and red were replaced with a sea of various greens.