Little Falls Climbing Trip

Little Falls isn't considered to be within the limits of the Adirondacks, but it's in Herkimer County and sits only around 10 miles outside the southwest border of the park.  Because of its nearby location, it shares the same Precambrian gneissic bedrock as much of the rest of the Adirondacks. Glaciers scoured the overlaying shale and marble out of the Mohawk riverbed and valley floor, leaving the ancient gneissic boulders and cliffs unprotected.  Where the gneiss and shale meet again creates a falls, where the Erie Canal's lock 17 is located.  Seemingly out of an unwillingness to make Little Falls particularly exciting, a landmark sign next to the lock says something like: "Lock 17: one of the tallest canal locks in the world."

Lock 17

As bland as the lock is itself (unless you're there on a geology field trip like the first time I visited), the surrounding gneiss cliffs on the south bank of the Mohawk and on Moss Island, where we were, are incredibly exciting because of their rock climbing.  They make up some of the best climbing in the Northeast, featuring hundreds of routes ranging in difficulty from very, very easy to very, very hard.  This past Tuesday I went climbing at Little Falls on a HOC trip, and although it was only my second time climbing on real rock outside, instead of inside a climbing gym or wall, it was thrilling and extremely tiring over the course of the day.

Because there are so many routes, there are different features on each that necessitate different styles of climbing.  Most routes have cracks, but they fade and force you to make a jump to the next feature and style, like crimping (holding on for your life with the very tips of your fingers) over a slab or bouldering hanging horizontally on the roof of a cave.  Fueled by a diet of a handful of Sour Patch Kids and two large carrots, I tried and sent five out of six routes that we set up, but by the end of the fifth my forearms were so tired that I could barely untie myself from the rope, much less climb another decently difficult route.

Not us climbing at Moss Island

I was a relatively experienced climber in our group on this trip. Even though some of us had never climbed outside or hadn't even climbed inside in years, everyone managed to send three routes, which was a huge success.  Over the course of the day, I realized that I had more fun helping others on the wall by pointing out holds or suggesting possible sequences than I did when I was climbing myself, especially towards the end of the day when we were all tired.

The climbing community at Hamilton and elsewhere is great, so get to know some peeps by signing up for the next climbing trip to Little Falls next Wednesday 9/30 leaving at 2:45 from the Glen House!  No experience necessary, lots of enthusiasm required!  Email gmurphy if you're interested!




Photos:
http://www.tug44.org/erie.canal/lock-17/images/lock17-1.jpg
http://www.mountainproject.com/images/4/64/105830464_medium_884e3a.jpg

All Season Vacationland

            In the midst of the trek from Hamilton to my home in Vermont is the town of Lake Pleasant.  Entering the village the signs reading “Welcome to Speculator, All Season Vacationland” are an appreciated sight as I know a restroom stop and cell phone service await me at the Mountain Market in town.  The quaint village by the lake always left me wondering what history was behind this seemingly paradise for Adirondackers.  Its slogan “All Season Vacationland” rings true as I have never past through at a time or season when visitors and townies alike are not out enjoying the scenic beauty and recreation that it offers.  On warm days in the late spring and summer the lake is scattered with boats, while in the fall leaf peepers walk about town and the lakeside viewing the wondrous beauty of fall foliage.  In the winter the lake is a shanty metropolis for ice fishing, and snowmobiles are scattered about town as if it is their main means of transport.  Upon learning about the early industrial and agricultural failures of the Adirondacks I began to wonder what failure lead to the modern economic center that is Speculator today. 

            Shortly after the Native Americans inhabited the shores of Lake Pleasant the earliest European settlers arrived in 1795.  Many of the happenings in the early times of Lake Pleasant were similar to other Adirondack beginnings.  Farmers were forced to adjust to the short and cool growing season although some success was found using sheep for the production of cloth and planting apple orchards.  Most of the lumbar produced was used for shingles but lack of roads and snow in the winter prevented the towns lumbar industry from growing outside its borders (Hoffman).

            The Lumbar industry took flight after the civil war when demand grew causing larger companies with lumbar and paper mills to move in to Glens Falls.  This situation created economic opportunity for Lake Pleasant as its connection to the Sacandaga River created a highway to the big boom.  Farmers in the area would spend their winters logging for the lumbar companies and often would provide the companies with their harvest.   The economic development in Lake Pleasant continued as summer camps and inns were built to support sportsman looking to enjoy the area (Hoffman).

            Pushing beyond its vacationland reputation, the Village of Speculator has gained national attention for housing professional athletes in the past.  Bill Osborne of the Osborne Inn, served in the marine corps with World Heavy Weight champion, Gene Tunney.  His invitation for Gene to stay and train in Speculator lead to a few other professional boxers seeking training refuge in the land, including Max Schmeling who defeated Joe Louis in 1936 (Weaver).  The 1932 Summer Olympics in Lake Placid drew many Olympic athletes to train in Speculator leading up to the games.  The Hershey Bears, owned by Hershey Chocolate and one of the oldest hockey teams in the country represented Speculator for sometime in the early 1930’s (Hoffman).

            From its humble beginnings as a settlement to the glory days of housing major sport stars, Speculator is one of the few success stories founded early in the wilderness of the Adirondack Park.  It scenic beauty and peaceful seclusion allowed a market economy to develop and made it in to one of the staples for vacation in the Adirondacks.  Similar to Owen Brown's sentiments towards the fur trapper’s lives in Cloudsplitter, I too envy the bliss of the constant vacation that is life in Speculator.

Cited

Hoffman, Bev. “A Short History: Speculator and Lake Pleasant.” Hamilton County Express. August 8 2012. Web. 24 Sept 2015.

Weaver, Anne A. Lake Pleasant and Speculator in the Adirondacks. Charleston, SC: Arcadia Pub., 2010. Print.

Photos

https://www.flickr.com/photos/jstephenconn/3706059890

http://www.acmiller-re.com/Speculator.php

Hiking Up Owl's Head: Small Mountains Have Value Too

"We rested atop a boulder and took in the 360-degree view, which was composed entirely of mountains, rocky slides, climbing ridges, and trees, with the single exception of a fire tower visible on Hurricane Mountain to our north. Quoting George Wuerthner, another old friend and outdoors writer, John said, 'It's hard to match the wildness of the views cape from an Adirondack mountaintop. Out West you can almost always see a clearcut.'" -Bill Mckibben, "Wandering Home"

A false summit! Not even to the top yet, but still gorgeous!

The view from the top of Owl's Head is indeed magnificent. It is easier to breathe up there, easier to feel lighter and freer somehow. The wind cools and while the sun make you squint, Owl's Head, a small mountain in Keene, NY, really opens your eyes to much more than the incredible vista.

This summer, towards the end of August when Adirondack mornings were crisp and chilly and afternoons sent sweat running down your face, my family and I climbed this wee mountain. Well, it wasn't my whole family. The majority of the cousins and my parents remained back at the house, playing cards, doing summer homework, and running around outside. Meanwhile, my Aunt Rachel and two cousins Estella and Kosmas, and I were looking for a real adventure. It is unfortunately true that we had to bribe the kids with ice-cream. It is also unfortunately true that there was a lot of temptation for my Estella and Kosmas from the other wee cousins to simply stay at the house and let their brains be sucked out by the infernal iPad. However, victory was ours when Rachel and I pulled up to the trail head, and popped the kids out of the car and into the woods.

As we walked up the drive towards the old painted sign pointing up the mountain, we were slightly dismayed to see how many parked cars we were passing. How many people could fit on this little mountain?! We were looking for some peace and some time for the kids to chill out and remind themselves of their little nerdy passions of naming tree species and guessing bird calls. Would this happen if the trails were ringing with conversation and babies crying and macho hikers complaining at how easy the hike was? We entered the forest with trepidation.

But, as I climbed, and talked quietly with my family about random things, like books and toys and big-scary-plans-for-the-future, and especially all the animals and plants we were seeing, I began to wonder, who was I for hoping that we'd have the mountain to ourselves? What a selfish (though understandable) thought to have. This mountain is known to be a popular climb because it's easy to get to, it has an amazing view, and it's also incredibly family/child friendly. I should want the trails to be crowded with noisy kids, even if there are a couple tantrums on the way. At least they would be here, out in the wild, easing into the ideas of respecting and cherishing nature, of working towards a goal (in this case, the view!), of one day sharing this place with their children, and especially of making sure it's still here to share when they are adults.

Kosmas and Estella's moods began disintegrating when we reached the third "false top", each of which had some gorgeous views of the forests around us, but none of which were the real summit. It was hot, and they weren't used to this much mandatory physical activity, but soon we heard promising voices. We came into a clearing near a cliff face, and saw a group of college level students rock climbing; sitting on, and under, and climbing up to the top of Owl's Head. The sight of nervous teenagers swinging from ropes, and enthusiastic ones urging them on, reminded me that these "big kids" too can always use a taste of the Adirondacks. Later I found out there were both experts and totally inexperienced rock-climbers there that day, and yet I still saw determination from both sides, the climbers and the cheer-leaders sitting below.

My lovely, squinty family, finally at the top!

As Bill McKibben describes in "Wandering Home", there really is nothing like Owl's Head for an easy reminder about where you are when you're walking around Keene, or driving through the Adirondack Park. We are so lucky to have such a "whole" forest so close to us. And I think it's so important for children to see the beauty, and the biodiversity, and the community that these mountains, even the very little ones, hold.  If you're ever driving through Keene, and are looking for a place to go, Owl's Head is a quick climb (less than an hour to the top, especially minus cousins) for a wonderful reward.

Photos by P. B. Elfström

The Most Common Good

The Adirondacks are important to us because others have made them important. Simply, meaning is given to places and things because humans like them. It takes a certain type of person to genuinely appreciate more difficult environments. This rings true historically with attempts to settle, or "people the park"(Godine). Oftentimes, the scientific majesty or environmental concerns of a region can overshadow the cultural influence of the individuals who actually make the region into one of genuine human interest. Not to veer too far into an anthropocentric understanding of nature, but humans are essentially social creatures. It is our relationships with others that define how our histories play out. From trapping to mining to hiking to vacationing, humans of the Adirondack region have found very unique ways of maintaining closeness in an oftentimes scary environment.

Godine writes about the ways in which immigrant workers at the turn of the century were able to influence the cultural makeup of the region deeply by maintaining certain aspects of their heritage in a new space. She goes on to discuss how certain cultural elements such as food, religion, and language was brought into the region by the new workforce, sometimes specifically to "entertain the natives with their Old World ways" (Godine). She also references the period when many of the immigrants were new as one of very tense divisions based on ethnic background, amplified by the paternalism of the big employers in the region. It was not until the realities of the new region set in and communities began to develop based on need rather than shared background. Unions sprang up, multilingualism became the norm, and street brawling slowly stopped. While sometimes human interaction with the environment has worked to divide people based on familiarity, it is easier to point out the times where tough times have truly united people.

The idea of a common goal has been lost in the general public in recent generations and as a result, the Millenial generation is frequently described as selfish. However, when you look at the number of civil rights and other political movements springing up, it is easy to argue otherwise. This is particularly true in terms of the environmental movement. A quick Google search shows that in increasingly large numbers around the world, young people are stepping up to address some of the most serious environmental concerns of the day. This cultural shift is an echo of the era Godine writes about. In spite of cultural differences, large groups of our generation are rising to the task of preserving the most common good: the environment.

The natural world has a strange, almost indescribable ability to bring otherwise diverse communities together. As there has been  increasingly fewer corners of the natural world to explore, places like the Adirondacks have become all the more valuable in terms of maintaining a deeper understanding between diverse groups of people.

Works Cited
Godine, Amy. The Hidden History. Adirondack Life. Hamilton College Burke Library.  24 September 2015.

How do Moose Relate to Climate Change?

       This past week we have learned that the climate in the Adirondacks is unique because there is nothing quite like it at its latitude. Although the Adirondacks share the same latitude as the French Riviera, the climate in the park is more similar to the climate of Alaska, which is fifteen degrees farther north. The climate is colder in the Adirondacks because low pressure systems drag cold Canadian air into the northeast. The mountains also create a colder environment, especially the Tug Hill Plateau, because the mountains force the clouds up to higher elevations where the temperature drops below the condensation point, so it starts to rain or snow. The weather and geography create a cold temperature region, also known as a boreal climate zone, that you would typically find further north. It is no surprise then that apart from red spruce, most of the plant species found in the Adirondack park are also found in Quebec. Along with these plant species come animals that prefer the boreal climate such as moose.
       Moose like colder climates because it is better for their survival. Higher temperatures are not good for the moose because they have to use more energy to stay cool and this can lead to respiratory problems. A warmer climate also encourages the growth of winter ticks, the leading cause of moose deaths in the Northeast. Winter ticks are harmful because they bleed moose which causes anemia and death. Winter ticks thrive in warmer weather because if the female ticks (who live on the moose in the winter) fall on bare ground, they have a better chance of reproducing than if they were to fall on snow-covered ground. Winter ticks prefer shorter winters because it decreases their chances on falling onto snow-covered ground. A third problem shorter winters pose for the moose is an increase in death by parasitic brain worms because a short winter causes overlap between moose and white-tailed deer territories. The white-tailed deer is a carrier for these worms and the deer tend to avoid areas with a lot of snowfall. If there is less snowfall because of a shorter winter the deer will expand their range and spread this parasite that is lethal to moose. Moose prefer the longer, colder winters because they have a higher chance of survival in those conditions.

       So how do moose relate to climate change? Moose can be a good indicator of climate change because they survive best in colder climates. If an area has fewer moose because they have died or moved further north it is reasonable to conclude that the area has gotten too warm for them. This is the exact logic the state Department of Environmental Conservation (DEC) is using to study climate change in the Adirondack Park. DEC is currently tracking twelve moose in the Park to monitor climate change based on the moose's health and location. This study is crucial for the park because the disappearance of moose can predict how climate change will affect the park in years to come.

Sources

Lynch, Mike. "Climate Change Threatens Adirondack Boreal Species." The Adirondack Almanack. 17 Sept. 2015. Web Accessed 24 Sept. 2015. http://www.adirondackalmanack.com/2015/09/climate-change-threatens-adirodnack-boreal-species.html

Marchand, Peter J. Nature Guide to the Northern Forest. Guilford, CT: The Globe Pequot Press, 2010. Print.

Adirondack Paternalism in Silicon Valley

Last week, we read The Hidden History by Amy Godine. In her article, Godine discusses some of the paternalistic tendencies Adirondack companies employed to try and recruit newly arrived immigrants to come work for them. However, this paternalistic attitude in companies is not limited to the Adirondacks in the 1800s, many tech companies in Silicon Valley employ similar tactics today to try to attract the best tech workers.

Godine describes how recruiters met immigrants upon arrival, where they were then, “fetched north by train and steered directly to the enclave of their choice, where likely as not, compatriots received them with a hot meal and a stake to carry them to payday” (Godine, 48). Meanwhile in Silicon Valley, employees are offering employee perks like dry-cleaning services, onsite haircuts, free food, and massage services (Miller). While, clearly these are very different types of perks, and the companies are trying to attract completely different types of workers, the paternalistic mentality is ever present. Both the Adirondack companies of the past, and modern day Silicon Valley companies need workers to fill the roles within their corporations, so they are providing for their employees as a means of retaining current employees and attracting new ones.

In the Adirondacks, this paternalistic attitude was restricting and potentially dangerous for employees since their employers would always have the upper hand. The housing provided by the Adirondack companies was often hardly any better than no housing at all, and they had the power to evict employees if they stopped working for them (Godine). This gave them true power to exploit their employees, since many of them were just starting out and doing their best to get on their feet in a new country.

While modern day tech companies cannot directly abuse their workers in this way because of modern labor laws, they still manage to hold an upper hand. Since they offer such great perks, they truly expect their employees to be completely dedicated to their company – working at all hours of the day. This makes it very difficult for working parents at these companies – many companies are so focused on their product they do not even have new parent policies written up. Further, while they may appear family friendly because of generous newborn policies, employees are admonished for taking time off to volunteer at their child’s school or otherwise be involved in their lives (Miller). In this case, the perks companies offer are working to keep employees there and working for them at all costs, even while they are losing out on other aspects of their lives. Former CEO of software company MongoDB, Max Schireson is quoted in the New York Times article. He wrote a blog post after he stepped down last summer, citing, “people are doing 20 hours a day to get this or that done at all costs...what I’ve seen is forgetting the human aspect of it” (Miller).

The paternalistic attitude of Adirondack companies in the 1800s continues to shine through in Silicon Valley work culture today. Companies use perks to lure in employees and keep them there, denying them a life outside of the office, or time to spend with their families. Through paternalism, companies both now and in the past have been able to control employees beyond a reasonable measure to further the goals of the company without regard to the lives of the humans working for them.

Works Cited:

Godine, Amy. “The Hidden History: An epic tale of immigrants in Adirondack Park.” Adirondack Life September/October 1993: 46-53, 61, 63-64. Print.

Miller, Claire Cain. “Silicon Valley: Perks for Some Workers, Struggles for Parents.” New York Times 7 April 2015. Web.

http://www.nytimes.com/2015/04/08/upshot/silicon-valley-perks-for-some-workers-struggles-for-parents.html?_r=0

Easy Wilderness

         We’ve explored the idea before that the history of the Adirondacks might have been vastly different, had the region provided more farmable land, and it’s no new concept that fertile land will be utilized as the precious resource that it is. So I wonder, then, why the Adirondacks is celebrated as such an enormous feat, to be a park so wild and so well-protected, as far as state or national parks go. Yes, settlers moved into and out of the Adirondacks over the centuries, but due to the nature of the environment and the characteristic geology of the park, most industries didn’t stay for long, and neither did a lot of people.

The Adirondacks are a rising geological dome, with valleys at higher elevation than other mountain ranges, making it much less passable for travelers. The soil isn’t fertile except for a few areas around the edges of the park. Mines were rich, but very localized and sometimes hard to find. The weather is rather unforgiving. Industries that were more likely to see success in the Adirondacks, such as logging and trapping, are lonesome and dangerous occupations. Isn’t it obvious, then that the Adirondacks were fairly easy to revert back to wilderness?

With the tone of some of the Adirondack material we read, it’s easy to believe in the ‘human accomplishment’ of creating the Adirondack park and preserving its wild, as if finally we have learned to protect a bit of this Earth and live alongside it because the Earth is so delicate and fragile. We are doing nature a disservice in forgetting its power. The Adirondack Park is not to be seen as an environmentalist achievement, as it is sometimes viewed. The accomplishment of the Adirondacks is rather the ability of nature in this specific region to remain so intensely and indisputably wild insofar as to stave off repeated attempts of humans to settle and industrialize the area.

I like calling the Adirondacks ‘easy wild,’ in the sense that we couldn’t settle it, so we made it wild again. Unfortunately, this made it seem like an environmentalist miracle, when in reality, the Earth had quite literally refused to let humans take over. However, I feel that this is perspective not often encountered and sometimes it’s frustrating to get the sense that humanity has begun to believe that it ‘made the wilderness happen’ as if we own what wilderness the Adirondacks have become again. The Adirondacks are easily kept wild and we are not as challenged with keeping it this way as we think we are, because we don’t lose much by leaving the Adirondacks alone. By contrast, the plains of the Midwest are not so easily wild; where every inch of land has been appropriated in neat squares and vast agricultural plots blanket miles upon miles. Every plot has been constructed for human use. Take this land and try to revert it back to it’s natural state, where crops don’t grow in tidy rows, and then I might be impressed. But the Adirondacks are easy wild; it will always be wild not matter how humanity tries to make it otherwise. Every piece of the Adirondacks is wild, down to the very core: the rocks, the weather, the animals, and the people who have dared to stick around so long. In the end, it is the wild itself that shaped the history of the park, and that’s what sets the Adirondacks apart.

Works Cited

Schneider, Paul. The Adirondacks: A History of America’s First Wilderness. New York: H. Holt, 1998. Print.

Terrie, Philip G. Contested Terrain: A New History of Nature and People in the Adirondacks. Blue Mountain Lake, NY: Adirondack Museum, 1997. Print.

Jenkins, Jerry, and Andy Keal. The Adirondack Atlas: A Geographic Portrait of the Adirondack Park. Syracuse, NY: Syracuse UP, 2004. Print.