Fire in the Adirondacks

The Adirondacks and the natural force of fire have a long and complicated history. On the west coast, natural fires were often controlled to the point where they were detrimental to the health of the forests. Some tree species require the occasional burns to clear out fallen trees and dead wood to allow for the growth of new seeds.  Other species simply thrive in post fire conditions. In other words, fire is a natural part of the life cycle and succession of forests. 

While fire is necessary for a park and occurs naturally, it can grow into a dangerous threat because of human activity.  When logging and mining reached new heights at the turn of the 20^th century, fire reached disastrous levels. In 1903 different forest fires in the Adirondacks and Catskills burned alone 464,000 acres of land. Fire again reached disastrous proportions. Homes were burned, residents had to be evacuated, and the smoke could be seen as far away as Washington. D.C.  In both years, while the weather was dry, human activity was responsible. Sparks from the engines of coal driven trains caught on the dry leaves and dead wood that had been carelessly and improperly disposed of by the lumberjacks and timber companies who had no need of it. These factors combined with the drought led to the massive forest fires.

However, following these fires, people were convinced of the need to increase fire protection and prevention. In 1909, new laws were passed and the construction of fire towers began. These measures have helped reduce the frequency and destructiveness of fires in the park dramatically. Nevertheless, in the modern era, the park faces many new challenges surrounding fires. Climate change is a massive threat. Not only does the increased frequency and duration drought and dryness increase the frequency and damaged caused by forest fires it also impacts the ability of the forest to recover.  Fires are only helpful when they enable new growth. However, if drought and dry years continue to occur after the fire, new planet species will not be able to grow. In other words, climate change could prevent Adirondack forest from recovering from fire damage even as that damage becomes worse and worse.  While the Adirondack forest does appear relatively stable and protected today, the future is uncertain especially when we are dealing with such a powerful and controllable force such as fire.

 One of the many fire towers built to protect the Adirondacks.

One of the more recent fires in the Adirondacks. This fire was caused by a campfire and burned more than 100 acres in September of 2015.

Sources:

http://www.adirondackalmanack.com/2007/10/is-another-adirondack-fire-disaster-on-the-way.html

http://www.dec.ny.gov/lands/4975.html

http://www.adkmuseum.org/about_us/adirondack_journal/?id=108

http://www.americaslongleaf.org/media/11802/early-successional-habitat.

http://www.northcountrypublicradio.org/news/story/29652/20150929/forest-rangers-battling-100-acre-wild-fire-in-adirondacks

http://www.adirondack.net/images/fire-tower-hadley-adks.jpg

B$$$$T

Budget is not a “bad” word. But when it comes to politics, it’s often treated like one. At his most recent State of the State (yes that is a thing), Governor Andrew Cuomo of New York announced his proposed budget for 2016-2017. With instantly mixed and polarized reviews, Governor Cuomo has a long battle in front of him if he hopes to pass his fiscal plan. The budget ultimately must pass the state legislature, a daunting task when the diversity of New York State interests is taken into consideration. From the smaller cities of Albany and Utica to the millions living in and around New York City to the environmentalists concerned with the future of the largest park in the United States, a single budget controls public education, transportation, healthcare, and infrastructure.

So what does this mean for the Adirondacks? According to William Janeway, Executive Director of the Adirondack Council in Elizabethtown, the proposed budget is a huge victory for the state park. The Environmental Protection Fund (EPF) will receive a $133 million increase, pushing its total capital to over $300 million for the first time ever. Among other things, the umbrella of the EPF includes funds to support invasive species control, purchase new park land, and create a new “Climate Resilient Farms” program. If passed by the legislature, Governor Cuomo’s budget would be an unprecedented step in recent history for government attention towards the Adirondacks.

For better or worse however, major political decisions do not revolve only around the best interests of the Park. And plenty of New Yorkers are not excited about a budget that will put Public College funding at risk and essentially increased financial strain on NYC. Maria Doulis of the nonpartisan Citizens Budget Commission, said “For New York City, I think this is one of the worst budgets that it’s seen in a long time.” The Daily News wished Mayor de Blasio luck in winning the Powerball (maybe then he could afford the bill).

It’s clear that there isn’t unanimous support behind the budget, but when do legislative moves ever have unanimity in todays political landscape? Pass or fail on the State floor, this budget represents at least a new vested interest in the Adirondacks. New interest can be good, but from a political perspective it can also represent opportunism. It is impossible to guess what Governor Cuomo’s agenda behind prioritizing the Adirondacks is… but for now it’s nice to know someone is willing to go for bat for the ever important park.

http://www.politico.com/tipsheets/new-york-playbook/2016/01/politico-new-york-playbook-cuomo-budget-slams-nyc-kosher-flap-fox-news-drift-212163

http://www.wsj.com/articles/new-york-city-mayors-ideas-are-echoed-in-gov-andrew-cuomos-speech-1452737034

http://www.syracuse.com/opinion/index.ssf/2016/01/gov_cuomos_budget_presents_historic_opportunity_for_adirondacks_commentary.html

http://www.syracuse.com/state/index.ssf/2016/01/transcript_of_gov_cuomos_2016_state_of_the_state_speech.html

Not Knotweed!

Recently in our History of the Adirondacks course we've talked about how immigrants (mostly from Europe) sought community and work in the mines and other growing industries in the Adirondacks. However, we have neglected to mention that not all foreigners are of the human species. While the number of invasive species in Adirondack ecosystems has continued to increase with the increased presence of humans, some noxious species are more harmful on the local environment than others. In particular, one plant species known to the scientific community as Fallopia japonica, or more commonly as Japanese knotweed, has become a huge problem in Adirondack communities.

Girl standing in front of patch of Japanese Knotweed

Native to Asia, Japanese Knotweed is a highly aggressive invasive species that was brought to North America as an ornamental houseplant. As an invasive species, Japanese Knotweed spreads rapidly, crowding out native and disturbing the local ecosystems that it enters. Ironically in 1847, the Society of Agriculture and Horticulture at Utrecht, Holland named Japanese Knotweed the "most interesting new ornamental plant of the year." [1]. Today, the World Conservation union has placed it on the world's 100 worse invaders list [2].

This freshwater species is quick to spread, growing from small fragments of rhizomes instead of seeds. Therefore, if someone is unsuccessful in digging up Japanese Knotweed, the root fragments left behind can grow into new individual plants. It is such a successful invader that transported soil that contains root fragments may allow the spread of this plant to new, previously unaffected areas. Japanese Knotweed invasion has been confirmed in 39 out of 50 American states.

Japanese Knotweed has become more prominent along rivers and roads in the Adirondack Park, but the plant's range is relatively small in the Adirondacks compared with other areas of New York State. Regardless, Japanese Knotweed is taking over pristine trout rivers and fisheries and killing off local, native species. 

Fortunately, in 2008, a group of botanists and environmental enthusiasts created the Regional Inlet Invasive Plant Program (RIIPP) to combat Japanese Knotweed [3]. Using stem injection guns, individual plants are poisoned with herbicide in order to reduce the impact of herbicide on the surrounding environment. With it's success, RIIPP has branched out to sites like Piseco, Lake Placid, Old Forge, Speculator, and Blue Mountain. Additionally, Adirondack locals form the Japanese Knotweed Management Summit to help spread ideas and awareness about this pesky species. 

Injection of herbicide into stem of Japanese Knotweed

Clearly Japanese Knotweed is not good for the native plants and animals in the Adirondacks. However, if it is so successful in this environment (and considered pretty enough to be used as an ornamental plant), for what reasons should we attempt to remove Japaneese Knotweed from the environment? Are we obligated to remove it, considering this species wouldn't be here without humans having brought it to North America? Does it go against our fundamental morals as environmentalists to destroy a species simply because it wasn't there before humans were? All of there are questions to consider when dealing with invasive species.

Sources:

[1]: http://www.mirror.co.uk/news/japanese-knotweed-everything-you-ever-4328310

[2]; http://www.adirondackdailyenterprise.com/page/content.detail/id/538305.html

[3]: http://www.adirondackalmanack.com/2013/09/bolton-unparalleled-japanese-knotweed-infestation.html

Naming Rocks

Dug out of fields, bumped by canoes, and scrambled over by hikers, rocks are an unavoidable part of the Adirondack Park.  Whether smooth river stones, towering erratics, or unexpected boulders, rocks make their mark on the unique landscape of the park.  While many settlers of the past toiled to clear rocks from fields and roads, residents of the park today embrace the rocks around them, often giving names to ones they deem to hold special significance as a landmarks or pieces of history.

Most of my experience with the Adirondack habit of naming rocks comes from my time at my family cottage.  A small cabin built by my great-grandfather in the 1930s, it sits on the Hudson River in the tiny hamlet of Riparius, about 9 miles downriver from North Creek.  There the Hudson is relatively quick moving and shallow, with its deepest point during the summer coming up to a man's waist, and dotted everywhere with rocks.  The most important rocks, the biggest and best for swimming to, have names that have survived generations of cottage goers.  Visitors to the cottage are warned not to swim past Blue Rock, where the current gets strong.  Bath Rock, with its smooth incline and dark color, is a wonderful place to lounge and soak up the sun.  Others include Red Rock, Diving Rock, and one entire cluster named Rocky Island.  Even more rocks are scattered alongside the river, often several feet or even yards away from the water line, pushed there by expanding ice during the winter.  One particularly large boulder sat in front of our cottage for years, and a shallow bowl-like depression on its top held the water for the baptisms of many family members, myself included.  One spring we arrived to find the baptism rock several yards downriver on the property of the cottage next door, pushed from us by that winter's ice.  Another large boulder near the cottage has been spared from the forces of the frozen river.  A local landmark, Chair Rock, with its seat-like ledge, sits beside the road, and has been the location for many a family photo-opp. 

View of the Hudson from my cottage...the large boulder on the left is the baptism rock, now sitting in front of a neighboring cottage.

Rocks elsewhere in the park have more widely known and accepted names.  A popular erratic on a hiking trail at the summer camp I work at is fondly named Whale Rock.  It looks like the head of a whale that is rising from the water, and has had hundreds of happy campers climb all over it in the past decades.  Sunday Rock, a large erratic that was a well known landmark for Indians and early settlers, once marked a boundary "separating the woods from the world," and now has its own picnic area off of Route 56.  The Balanced Boulders on Pitchoff Mountain, near Lake Placid, are a popular tourist destination.  Countless other erratics around the park are used for everything from picnic spots to practice zones for beginning rock climbers.  These glacial leftovers which once confused even the best geologists are now some of the best loved features of the park.  Rock on!

The Balanced Boulders, Pitchoff Mt.

Sources:

http://visitadirondacks.com/attractions/heritage/sunday-rock

http://www.lakeplacid.com/do/hiking/balanced-boulders

http://www.lakeplacid.com/f/styles/1440x700/public/hiking/balanced-boulders_20.jpg?itok=_XGBoZg0

Cabin Fever

During the winter months at Hamilton College we experience temperatures anywhere from 5 degrees below freezing to 40 above, not including windchill. Just last year there was a campus-wide email circulating in February reminding everyone to bundle up a little extra in an effort to try not to lose any extremities as we approached temperatures as low as 15 degrees below freezing. When the temperature is on the more extreme end and the wind is blowing furiously we avoid traveling out of our warm buildings as much as possible. Many of us students, myself included, often joke about getting cabin fever from being inside for the duration of these bitter January and February months. In psychological terms, cabin fever is known as seasonal affective disorder, or SAD. For some students, their anxiety and depression from being stuck indoors may progress into SAD, and fortunately for them, they have access to the school counseling center. In more remote places such as parts of the Adirondacks, however, where temperatures are often even colder than here in Clinton, help is not always as easy to find.

Like most public health services in the Adirondacks, the few mental health facilities in the region are located towards the outskirts of the park. A google search for mental health services in the Adirondacks reveals only a few private practices clustered in Essex County near Lake Champlain, and a larger mental hospital, the Central New York Psychiatric center in Mohawk Valley. Within the depths of the park access to any sort of counseling services is extremely limited and during the winter traveling is usually difficult. Therefore people suffering from SAD in the Adirondacks learn to cope with the condition on their own. Just like so many other things in the park that natives must learn to be self-sufficient in, they have to learn to keep themselves happy during the cold, dark, and long winters.

Trees from Coast to Coast

            I have been lucky to grow up among the world’s tallest and largest (and to many biased Californians, the most beautiful) trees. A giant sequoia called General Sherman is the largest in the world, with a base diameter of about 102 feet. A second redwood tree called Hyperion is the tallest at approximately 379 feet. These trees are massive! As a young student, I attended many class fieldtrips to see such trees. We’d sing silly odes, learn about their unique color and barks and admire their unfathomable sizes.

 

Hiking through California redwoods is reminiscent of a natural sanctuary. The trees are so tall that they block out most sunlight except for a few warm, magical beams. It’s therapeutic to feel so small beneath such large, swaying limbs. Some people travel across the world to see these beloved and astonishing trees. Muir Woods, in Marin County, California for example, is dominated by hundreds of redwoods stretching impossibly high… people even acquire permits to be wed under their shade.

            I was surprised by the differences of the trees in the Adirondacks. I soon recognized the remarkable presence created by the particular types of trees in a park, as the energy of the Adirondacks felt much different to me. Hiking through the Adirondacks provided a different feel... the trees seemed less dominating and rather drew attention all around me rather than just up. A few of the many major trees in the Adirondacks in comparison are sugar maple, American beech and yellow birch. Sugar maples grow to be around 50 to 70 feet tall, far beneath the 379 foot Hyperion. Its bark is gray and smooth. The beech is similar in height and bark, but its leaves are distinctly different. The birch is again similar in height, but features a yellowish bronze bark that peels off into small curls.

            What I personally draw by observation of the differences in flora is that much of the beauty of the western species lies in their incomparable size, which lends them and energy of power and strength, while the beauty of Adirondack growth lies in its intricacies. The trees are much lower but each has a familiar scent, or leaf, or bark, or sugary sweet substance that differentiates it from its surrounding neighbors. Though such differences may seem clean-cut, it’s amazing to actually feel how different the parks feel in part because of the trees that inhabit them. More information about the various trees of the Adirondacks are featured below.

http://www.esf.edu/aec/adks/forestcomm.htm

Mysterious disappearances in the Adirondacks

Photo Provided by NYS DEC

The Adirondacks is place of beauty, wide-spread wilderness, and happy tourists. It is also a place filled with mystery. Back in November, Thomas Messick, age 82, suddenly vanished when he was hunting deer in an area of wild forest near the town of Horicon in Warren County. Messick was with a group of hunters who had been hunting together in the Adirondacks for decades. He was last seen by his group when he went further into the woods to take a seat. After failing to meet with his group at a pre-arranged location, they knew something was wrong and assembled a search party. Even after more than 10,000 hours of total search-time has been spent through hundreds of miles of terrain, no trace of Thomas Messick was found. The use of helicopters, K-9 units, and veteran teams of Forest Rangers was to no avail as officials have sadly scaled back the search in late January. Rangers will continue to monitor the area and conduct spot searches and training exercises to hopefully find Thomas E Messick.

It turns out that the Adirondacks are infamous for disappearances that turn into mysteries, especially in the previous case of 8-year-old Douglas Legg.

Photo from Poststar.com

While walking through the woods to his family's seasonal home in the Santanoni Preserve in Newcomb, Douglas Legg disappeared. Almost 45 years ago on July 10, 1971, while Legg and some relatives were headed out for a hike, his uncle told him to walk back to the camp to get some long pants. The distance was short and it was a straight walk down a path but Legg was never seen again. More than 600 people looked through miles of woods for 6 weeks with helicopters and U.S Air Force planes equipped with infrared equipment. Over the years there has been many different rumors circulating around but none have led to the conclusion that Legg was kidnapped and murdered. Instead, the police theory is that Douglas got lost in the unforgiving woods of the Adirondacks. Described as an avid hiker and mini woodsman, it was quite peculiar he disappeared with no trace.

But then again, Thomas E. Messick also disappeared without a trace despite being an avid hunter of the Adirondacks for decades. 

Sources: 

• http://www.northcountrypublicradio.org/news/story/30746/20160121/lost-adirondack-hunter-another-adirondack-mystery
• http://poststar.com/news/local/years-later-case-of-missing-boy-remains-an-adirondacks-mystery/article_8a42bf94-af20-11e0-835c-001cc4c03286.html
• http://newyorkstatemissingpersons.ning.com/photo/douglas-j-legg-oswego-county

An Ode to Kate Field

Kate Field (1838-1896)

In her lecture entitled “Among the Adirondacks,” 19^th century American journalist, Kate Field, showed her passion for the Adirondacks and her identification as a forest preservation advocate. Field based her lecture on her experiences in the Adirondacks in the summer of 1869. Distinguished from her affluent contemporaries, she was not a vacationer at a luxury Adirondack resort. Instead, Field and her companions opted to camp, hike, fish, and hunt just like her sportsman counterparts. Her unconventional behavior generated criticism, especially from those who believed that women were unable to appreciate the wilderness and its sports. Although Field belonged to the social and cultural elite, she challenged 19^th century norms by established her own career as one of the first women reporters for the New York Tribune, New York Herald, and Atlantic Almanac. In 1889, Field even started a weekly journal called Kate Field’s Washington, which was circulated in Washington D.C. 

Field’s fondness for the Adirondack region motivated her to write and lecture about the Adirondack’s forest’s value. Field saw the proliferation of the logging industry as a misuse of the forest. As opposed to cutting down trees, Field encouraged the public to bring tents and camp in the park. Evidently, Field placed emphasis on the recreational value of the Adirondack Park. She even wrote that the Adirondack Mountains “were intended by Nature to be the Eastern pleasure-ground of the United States.”

While I highly admire Field for advocating wilderness preservation, I believe that one must be mindful of her anthropomorphic and utilitarianism perspective. Firstly, by “anthropomorphic” I mean that Field places human pleasures at the center of her argument for forest preservation. Her focus on the recreational value of the park seems to ignore the intrinsic value of the forest itself. Secondly, I use the word utilitarianism because Field promoted:

The great good of the greatest number is, I believe, the true democratic platform, and if several hundred men think that the life-giving principles of the North Woods was [sic] instituted for the benefit of a few guns and rods, they are sadly mistaken. (“A Babe in the Woods: Kate Field And Preservation,” Adirondack Almanac).            

With regard to egalitarian access to the Adirondack Park, I agree wholeheartedly with Field. I do believe that the park should not be exclusive to the affluent. However, I am sensitive to the principles of utilitarianism as a theory. I do not always support the idea that the greatest number is the greater good. In the context of wilderness preservation in general, I am wary that utilitarianism condones the unlimited growth of tourism in the name of economic gains. Nevertheless, I applaud Field for her contribution to 19^th century environmental activism. A strong woman’s voice always belongs in any societal debate.

Sources:

http://www.adirondackalmanack.com/2014/03/babe-woods-kate-field-adirondack-preservation.html

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kate_Field

Ghost Towns: What Remains of the Mining Era

Just off the road to Mt. Marcy lies the town of Tahawus. In the ruins and crumbling structures one can faintly make out the warmth and life that once filled it’s streets over 200 years ago. Having seen two eras of progress and development in American history, the town of Tahawus was birthed by the same thing that destroyed it: mining.

In the early 19^th century, the industrial era had begun to take its foothold. Many young prospectors combed the largely unexplored lands of the Adirondacks looking for the “gold” of the northeast, iron ore.  In 1826, two industrialist prospectors, Archibald Mclintyre and his partner David Henderson, were lead through the woods by an Indian of the Saint Francis tribe to an ore deposit right at the mouth of the Hudson River.

With the discovery of ore, in the following years a settlement was born called Adirondac. The town was complete with a school, church and meeting room. It was also the site of the first bank opening in the Adirondacks. However, the prosperity and success of Adirondac was short lived. In 1858, with the end of McIntyre’s Adirondack Iron and Steel Company, the last few inhabitants moved on. Much like other “boomtowns” in the Adirondacks, transportation, ore impurities and a downturn in the global economy were contributing factors to the towns demise. Ultimately, the town was completely abandoned and renamed “the deserted village.”

In 1876, the town got a second chance. A hunting and fishing club breathed life back into the area, renaming it Tahawus and replacing many of the buildings with new cottages and new people. Several years later in the heat of WWII, Tahawus was mined for titanium. But in 1962, the miner inhabitants were relocated and the village was filled with ghosts once again.
Tahawus now stands as a reflection of the industrial era, where land was valued strictly for what could be extracted from it. It was believed that the park’s resources were inexhaustible but they weren’t. Mining left a large scar on the landscape of the Adirondacks. It brought short-term success with long-term effects. As David Henderson wrote in 1845 “if land in that wilderness is to have any value at all it will only be in consequence of the success of our operation.” The operation of mining took down less than a tenth of the park acreage. Ultimately, it was the finite supply of charcoal that drove the miners west. But the scars remain. Succumbing to the weathering of the Adirondack climate, the ghost town of Tahawus stands, in its ruins, as a reminder of a very different era.

Sources:

http://www.ghosttowns.com/states/ny/tahawusoradirondak.html 

http://www.adirondackalmanack.com/2014/10/tahawus-an-adirondack-ghost-town-for-halloween.html

https://urbanpostmortem.wordpress.com/2012/08/08/the-ruins-of-tahawus/

http://www.atlasobscura.com/places/tahawus

A Botanical Artist in the Woods

This past summer, my family and I decided to spend Fourth of July weekend at Honnendaga Lake in the Adirondacks. The lake is remote: it takes about an hour-long drive of dirt road to get to the nearest town. There is a parking lot at the tip of the lake where you leave your car and take a boat to wherever your cabin may be. A man met us at the lot and loaded our bags onto the boat. On the trip over, he told us that people rarely rent in the area and that most people who own houses on the lake stay only for the summer. Few people today are attracted to a location so remote from a town, with no cell service or easy way to connect to society.

           

            The next day, my parents and I decided to explore and hike on the trail that goes completely around the lake without fully understanding what we were getting ourselves into. Since the lake is private and remote and newcomers are rare, the lake trail isn’t often used. We walked on a thin line of muck and often got confused if we were still following the trail.

            The trail was also different because it goes right along the lake and often through residents’ camps and front yards. We were passing in front of someone’s house when we startled the owner. She wasn’t used to people using the trail and she also wasn’t used to people who didn’t also own on the lake. Suddenly a conversation started and she was showing us around her house. Her name is Cynthia Rice and she grew up on the lake but in a different house. Her brother owns her childhood house and she lives in her own camp for as long as possible in the year as until there’s snow. She loves everything about living on the remote lake because she is a botanical artist. She created her own studio and it was filled with amazing paintings and drawings of plants, flowers, and butterflies. She’s currently the treasurer of the American Society of Botanical Artists and she’s displayed some of her work at the Adirondack Museum.

Here’s some of her work below! I found out that day that you never know what treasures you’ll find even in the most remote area of the Adirondacks.

           

 Sources

http://www.adkmuseum.org/exhibits_and_events/special_events/detail/?id=525 

https://www.asba-art.org/board-and-staff