A Fitting Boundary

Bill McKibben's comparison of the two sides of Lake Champlain demonstrate that Vermont and the Adirondacks are divided by a true boundary: one that is geographic, geologic, and cultural. Although it was drawn arbitrarily during the founding times of the colonies, the two sides  The lack of frequent bridges across the lake prevents people from easily passing from one side to another, limiting cultural influence either way. A difference of merely 3 miles can exhibit a change in what city "the city" refers to, a multi-million year age difference of the bedrock one treads over, and a vastly different ideology of land use (or non-use) - the two sides divided by the glacial scar of Lake Champlain. Although these sides are so different, McKibben argues that they belong together.

After spending many years living in New Hampshire, I have found that New England is indeed a "tidy" place filled with small towns centered around a green, a bandstand, and a white church. When journeying from Vermont across the lake back into the Adirondack park last winter with the Nordic team, we noticed a pronounced difference in houses, roads, and terrain. The Vermont side of the Champlain valley is filled with vast farm fields with tree clusters few and far between, allowing the late afternoon sun to reflect off the lake and cast a golden hue across the region, where one can see for miles to the horizon over the rolling hills. Farmhouses tell stories of settlers generations ago, with many direct descendants still inhabiting their families' original homesteads: a friend here at Hamilton recently told me that her family dates back 9 generations to the town she lives in, although they do not live in the same house. Soon after passing through that very town, we crossed over to New York, leaving behind the lakeside mansions and vast open farm fields to an area settled hundreds of years later than Vermont. Suddenly we were in the shadows of the foothills of the Adirondacks winding around blasted cliffs and being rattled by roads long in need of repair. Log cabins with Adirondack chairs on the porches are the most extravagant homes visible on hillsides. It did not feel hostile, it merely felt raw, as McKibben describes it. The steep hillsides and

Although the Adirondacks are culturally hundreds of years younger, the local understanding of land use is much more developed than in Vermont. At the time Vermont was settled, the land was stripped of trees and farmed thoroughly and has been farmed since, with little reversion back to forest. The Adirondacks were thoroughly logged as well, but quickly reverted back to forest once protected as a state park and the residents learned "often against their will" how to leave the land for use only for low-impact recreation. While both areas experienced similar damage after settlement by European-Americans, the Adirondack resdients have learned much more about how to save land than Vermonters have and demonstrate a more mature attitude with respect to the land, when speaking in terms of responsible land use. For example, more mountains in the tiny Green Mountain range are ridden with alpine ski areas than in the whole Adirondack Park. While the two sides of this lake are split by a very fitting boundary, McKibben argues that the two sides have a lot to learn from each other: Vermonters can learn about responsible land use and reversion to wilderness while the Adirondack residents can learn about political and societal organization.