A Visit to Fort Ticonderoga, Part 1

Fort Ticonderoga, an historic site in New York near the Vermont border (Lake Champlain) has everything: breathtaking views of the Adirondack high peaks, walking paths through gardens and restored pre-colonial buildings, hands-on stuff and lots of climbing and exploring for the kids, and oodles and oodles of ancient history– well, as ancient as America can get: Iroquois Indian arrowheads and French settlement from the late 1600s.

We’d visited the Fort Ti grounds once before, sneaking in after the place had closed for the season. We walked the leaf-strewn trails and peeked over the stone walls. We didn’t see any of the interiors of the fort or the buildings, as the places were locked and we didn’t dare intrude that far. We had gotten a healthy taste of the incredible landscape, however, to taunt us for a return visit. Which, I am happy to report, we did this autumn.

After walking through the admission area and gift shop (which is loaded with stuff and I spent a bundle of money in it), you walk down a small hill that faces the south side of the fort, toward the bottom of Lake Champlain and the top of Lake George. The views are simply staggering. Read more

Lake George and Fort Ticonderoga, NY

In the late autumn of 2007, we drove out to the eastern edge of the state, to Lake George and Lake Champlain. I’d never been to Lake George before. I never knew how exquisitely beautiful the area is. The property taxes must be outta this world!

The drive to Lake George was lengthy. We traveled through the familiar and little towns of Herkimer, German Flatts, and Little Falls before taking the Thruway. Tolls have certainly increased. We got off at Amsterdam and drove through the heart of the city. I’ve never been through Amsterdam before; it has a rusty, rickety aura of a gilded era long gone –like many Upstate cities– but it has a seediness similar to Utica. The hilly roads added interest (and traffic congestion) to the ride. It was an interesting city and I would have liked to see more of it, but Lake George beckoned.

Up we traveled, through Ballston Spa, Saratoga, and Glens Falls. Lake George, NY, (the city) is at the southernmost tip of this very long lake. The lake itself is about 32 miles long and 2 miles wide. Huge mounds of solid stone stand up in a stiff regiment all around the lake. Clouds of russet-colored oak and feathery green fir trees cover big chunks of the mountains in a futile attempt to soften its appearance. It was probably no easy thing for these trees to grow roots and grasp onto such massive mounds of stone. Even with the lush tree coverage, huge boulders the size of school buses loomed. I’ve never seen anything like it. At one point we could drive no further and had to stop to take it all in. No wonder Lake George is nicknamed “Queen of the American Lakes.” And it has a bit of mystery and adventure, too, being the location of America’s Oldest Intact Warship. But because the sky was so overcast, my little point-and-shoot Kodak couldn’t capture the striking beauty of the landscape.

I feel ashamed, treating you so unjustly to such poor photos when the sight of the scene was so spectacular. Oh well, I have a hunch we will return next autumn, so stay tuned. I am glad we came in autumn. The mountains were simply ablaze with color and were almost aggressive in showing it off. This is turbulently rugged countryside and nothing like the sweetly singing hills of the Mohawk Valley.

We continued on to Fort Ticonderoga. We knew we were taking a chance, driving so far with the possibility of not seeing much of the beloved fort. Most tourist places in Upstate close by October 31st–a stinky policy, if you ask me. Autumn is the perfect time for travel! Anyway, it was Veteran’s Day, and I’d read that even though the inside of the museums might be closed, the visitor’s centers remain open. We discovered we were wrong on all counts. Nuts. But didn’t someone once say that half the fun is getting there? So we made do with what we had and enjoyed the journey.

Fort Ticonderoga was a very important outpost during the American Revolution (which we lost to Burgoyne, by the way). However, the history of the fort and of the area goes back much, much farther.

Because this area is between Lake Champlain and Lake George, and thus the fastest route to Albany (NY’s capital city) and New York City (NY’s biggest harbor), the group who controlled Ticonderoga usually wound up controlling New York. This fort initially controlled the trade route before the French and Indian War. It later became a strategic outpost for the wars. My daughter promised me that she would (quickly) write a short and humorous synopsis of the historical aspects of this place. I’ll post it in an update as soon as I get it.

The road to the fort (which we walked, because the road was closed with a gate) was interspersed with monuments to the many, many men who died here. Talk about a world war– there were people from so many countries who fought here!

First the area was owned by the Indians, then the French. Then, the British took it over in the French and Indian War. Fighting with the British were regiments from Scotland. Then, the American Revolution came ’round, and it was French and British at it again, this time with American, Scottish, and German troops, plus more Indians. Monuments in English, French, and Latin recorded the hundreds of men who died here. Trenches were redug for posterity to see exactly where shots were fired, blood was spilled, and men were fallen.

The walk was mighty long. Because the fort was officially closed, I hurried everyone along. I wanted to get a quick view of the fort before we were kicked out!

The fort sits elevated on a cliff. It overshadows the strategic sliver of Lake Champlain where Lake George ends, and oversees all water traffic there. Across the lake is Vermont. In the summer a ferry takes passengers across to Vermont and Mount Defiance.

As we approached the fort, sounds of construction vehicles alarmed us that we were not alone. Apparently, laborers were working this day. It looked like they were clearing brush. Whether they saw us, I do not know, but they left us undisturbed. We veered off to the other side, and I rapidly made my way to the open fort entrance. Ah, so easy! Did the French and then the British enter so easily? Ha!

We came up to a “CLOSED. NO TRESPASSING BEYOND THIS POINT” sign. My husband, law-abiding citizen that he is, hesitated. I, on the other hand, had a camera in my hand that was literally pulling me toward the entrance. I walked boldly into the entrance and peered over the top. Before my eyes about 10 feet down was a red pickup truck, its engine gurgling, and two men hauling tools into the back. They were joking and laughing, so they had missed my son’s sneeze and my loud footsteps. I shrank back from the wall and motioned for the kids to be absolutely s i l e n t. I wanted to get in at least one picture before we were tossed out, or, God forbid, arrested! This is all I got.

Sorry! How I longed to enter the fort! I almost–ohh so close it was– did. But cooler heads prevailed. We turned our way back. I snapped a quick photo of Mount Defiance– that last, unexpected bastion of British ingenuity (story to come), and we left.

I was sad. Of course, I didn’t think we’d get in the fort– being past season as it is. But a girl can hope, can’t she? The kids were disappointed, too, but they recouped soon enough. Kids will be kids and they found something to do: play American Revolution in the forest:

On our way back to the van, I snapped a photo of this beautiful little stone house by the gate. The sign said it was a private residence, but it was on the fort grounds. A caretaker’s home, perhaps?

So all in all, we didn’t get to revel in the luxuriant history of the fort, but we can at least say that we have been there. All it does is gives us a thirst to return! Fort Ticonderoga, I shall return!

We continued on after Fort Ticonderoga. Read about our hike up Buck Mountain in Pilot Knob, NY!

Trucking Through the Adirondacks

My blog pal Chilly from On the Bricks really liked my post with the Adirondack video. So I found another for ya, Chilly, man! I’m not sure where this is (the Adirondack Park is pretty massive, lol), but it looks like any other crazy winding road through the Adirondacks. Maybe now ya’all know what I was talking about when I said I hadn’t had a serious case of car sickness until we went to Buck Mountain near Lake George see my post about it here and traveled up Route 9 to Fort Ticonderoga see my post here. But the scenery is sooooo beautiful!

Anyway, watch this video I found on YouTube. I could only get through the first two minutes, then I was car sick again. Tell me how it ends. lol. The driver is bombarded by the biggest bugs I’ve ever seen, judging by the bug guts on his windshield!

When you can find them, hotel deals are nice, but camping is best for enjoying the Adirondack splendor!

Buck Mountain at Pilot Knob, Adirondacks

This is a continuation of our autumn 2007 trip to the Lake George area of the Adirondacks. After our failed excursion to Fort Ticonderoga, we hankered for a real adventure. We drove around the small town of Ticonderoga (nicknamed “Ti” by the businessfolk and evidenced by their proprietor’s signs: Ti Barbershop, Ti Pizza). We were looking for a means to go up Mount Defiance (is that what it is still called today?). We found nothing. The signs– what few we found of historical nature– were very worn and almost unreadable and none related to the Mount. I did, however, see many interesting road names: Father Jogues Place, Cannonball Road, Champlain Ave, Algonkin St, Hawkeye Triangle, and even Burgoyne Road! My kids hissed at that!

Finding no Mount Defiance entry, we left the solemn little town. My husband had done his homework and knew of a terrific mountain trail to walk: Buck Mountain. Down Route 9 we went again. The scenery is out-of-this-world. Almost all the kids ooo-ed and ahhh-ed the entire time. Well, my youngest oo-ed and ahh-ed, too, but not because of the scenery but because the twisting curves made him carsick. We stopped on occasion for a breath of fresh air.

There are numerous public trails and parks dotted up and down Lake George for the public to enjoy. Some are very strenuous, some mild. We chose the milder sort, Buck Mountain. So, back down we went from Ticonderoga. We made a quick pit stop at Bolton Landing. Across from the gas station on the main drag was a huge– and I mean huge– rock– the side of part of a mountain. It stood like a 50 foot wall right next to the road. Stores and houses had been built next to it all down the street. The townsfolk probably thought nothing of it, but I was flabbergasted at such a huge cleft of a mountain in the middle of town looming over all the stores. It looked so out of place right there. Such is mountain life, I suppose.

We passed through the city of Lake George again (so beautiful, sigh) and drove up the eastern side of the lake. Buck Mountain is situated east of the lake, near Pilot Knob, NY. As I type this, I make our travels sound so easy. It was actually riddled with “Where’s Route 9L? What on earth is Route 9N?” and “You missed the turn again!!” and “You have got to be kidding me! This detour will take us 10 miles out of our way?!” It was a long time spent in that van.

We made it to Buck Mountain at 3:30. The skies were very overcast, so darkness would come earlier than the usual 5pm. Surprisingly, there were cars and trucks in the small parking lot– others were here hiking, too! We felt bolder, and decided to give the hike a try. Even though we wouldn’t make it to the summit in time, the journey is half the fun, et al.

Before we entered the trail, a wooden box urged us with its white painted letters to register– for “your safety and ours.” Such a good idea! We signed in, picked up one of the complimentary walking sticks left by considerate hikers, and started up.

The walking was easy for a while. We even saw one man with his two small children walking up (they later turned around). After about 10 minutes of leisurely walking, the trail got a little more… vertical. And stony. You can see in the pictures how steep the trails became. The entire forest floor was covered with inches of thick oak leaves. These leaves concealed the multitude of rocks. The trail was filled with rocks– big ones! The trails got rockier and rockier. We had to pick our way through carefully. A spill on the trail would not be a pleasant one. But as the trail became steeper and steeper, the rocks became the only things our feet would grab in order to get to the next level. It was quite strenuous, but it was great fun!

There was much to see: trees completely shed of their leaves; enormous rocks (house-sized and bigger) that poked out from the leaf-covered sod and stretched yearningly for the sky above. We spied large cracks and crevices in these rocks– caves! I had to practically barricade the area to keep the kids from exploring the caves (the rules were to never leave the trail). They nagged me constantly, begging me if they could see the caves. It was kinda cute, kinda, that they wanted to explore. Secretly, I was restraining myself as much as them.

An old stone wall piqued our interest. Who built this and what was its purpose? It stretched on for quite a ways up the mountain. An old property border? (sorry for the blurry photo)

On ocassion we would come to a small creekbed, also riddled with stones. Being a country girl, I daintily picked my way through, but the kids hadn’t had the opportunity for such rugged experiences. A few of them slipped and plunged their shoes into the cold waters. Consider them baptized.

We continued to walk as most people were coming down. Everyone was friendly. Two guys in hiking gear stopped to chat with us, and asked us if we were going to the summit. They seemed relieved when we said no, (since we’d never make it back before dark). I asked if there was a good view of the lake from anywhere else but the summit; to my disappointment, he said no.

Oh well, there’s always next time! We got up to the one mile mark and checked our clocks: 4:15. we had to turn around and get down before dark. Everyone else had left the trail. We headed down.

Darkness was coming much quicker than our pace. We started trotting. The sun dropped and darkness fell; we started running. Finally, we reached the end of the trail. Groping in the dusk, I sloppily signed us out of the registry, to assure others that we made it out and didn’t need rescuing. What a trip! It was exhilarating! Hopefully, next year we’ll make it to the top, and I’ll have a new camera for crispy clear photos. All in all, a great trip. And the kids slept like babies that night.

In an interesting afterthought, we traveled though Saratoga Springs. It was dark, but the city was lit up like Las Vegas. I don’t think I have ever seen such an extravagant and squeaky-clean city in New York State. It was fascinating– small cafes with tables and chairs and wandering people enjoying the nightlife; hundreds of glistening white Christmas lights strung across tree-lined parks; manicured shrubs adorning cobblestoned sidewalks. What an interesting city.

It was a long drive home, and rain pelted our windshield for most of the drive. We comforted ourselves with plans for next year: plans to go camping and hiking in these lovely mountains that had so readily endeared us to them.