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July 16, 1992 - A Song of Adirondack Appreciation6A The Suffolk Times •. July_ 1 Q, 1992 A Song of Adirondack Appreciation By Paul Stoutenburgh and with this we set out to catch tomor- We were to attend a Tamil dd' INNER, row's dinner. J we tng in' the chapel at Ithaca College where the bride had gone to school. Since it would give us a good opportunity to see more of our great state, we decided FOCUS to pack our camper and kill on Nature two birds with one stone. For the two days there Barbara had chosen But- termilk Falls State Park as our home base. The countryside is still a mixture of rolling wooded hills and farms and, like home, haying was the activity of the day. Meadowlarks sang from the telephone lines along the highway and the handsome black- and -white bobolink could be seen flying with its own pecu- liar flutter across the open fields. Both are ground nesters in the open meadows that rolled before us. Once the formality of the wedding was over and our "goodbyes" were said, we headed for the Adirondacks to join in their 200th Anniversary as the nation's largest park. We wanted to reacquaint ourselves with its vastness. There are six million acres under this umbrella of protection, both in private and public ownership. Back in 1976 through an act of the New York State Legislature the Adirondack Park area became the largest area in the nation to come under a comprehensive land man- agement plan. No wonder it retains its charm as a wilderness area for here man cannot do as he pleases with the land, rather what he does must not only bene- fit the landowner but be of benefit to the public as well. Brown Tract Pond Camp Our first campsite was near Raquette Lake, seven miles in on a dirt road. No motor boats are permitted, which was fine with us for we had brought along our canoe. If one word could express the site, stillness would be it. No sounds of cars or airplanes ... no voices but our own. Cedar waxwings greeted us in their trim attire and crested heads. Then goldfinches, with their dazzling yellow -and -black plumage, joined in on Photo by Paul Stoutenburgh YOUNG SPOTTED SANDPIPER- Sandpipers can be found along any one of our less- traveled beaches or even on a lonely Adirondack lake shore, for it nests wherever there is a watery edge. what had attracted the waxwings in the nearby shrubbery along the lake. After dinner we'd take the canoe right from our campsite and drift noiselessly around the lake's darkening shores. It was as one would see in a photograph of a canoeist in some wilderness area to the north. We were the only ones about. We had arrived before the summer crowds had filtered in and we found it to be that way the rest of the week. We would find recycling in all our campsites and were glad to separate our bottles, metal and plastics. We only hope that the rest of the world will soon take up this way of life for without it we are bound to bury ourselves in our own garbage. Our second day took us to a huge campsite at Fish Creek. As usual we drove around to select a spot before signing up. What we saw at first was i OWN% ■ ....0 nAAvw 78 Years Ago July 18, 1914 Car Catches Fire: A Reo touring car, owned by Charles Elliot Hallock, of Mattituck, was badly damaged by fire last Thursday night. Mr. Hallock left the car under the church shed while he and his family attended an entertain- ment. When he went to light his lamps he dropped the match under the car. An explosion enveloped the car in flames. Fortunately the family were not in the car when the acci- dent happened. Mr. Hallock only escaped injury by fleeing. The Mattituck Fire Department responded to an alarm and a rope was attached to the burning automobile, and it was pulled out of the shed and the blaze extinguished. The shed did not take fire. 50 Years Ago July 16, 1942 Nationwide Legion Drive: The American Legion and its Auxiliary, working in cooperation with a group of nationally eminent musical artists, has mapped plans for a nationwide door - to-door canvass of old phonograph records as a means of providing new records and a permanent sup- ply of good music to men of the armed forces for the dura- tion. The canvass is known as "Records For Our Fighting Men. " not our kind of camping, for each site had quantities of people, bikes, boats, and other paraphernalia that told us most of these campers were here for Dad's vacation. But luck was with us; we saw on the map a newer section at Rollins Pond 2 1/2 miles away that looked inviting. There we found camp- site No. 8, a peaceful place right on the edge of a small pond. The beauty of having our little camper on the back of our pickup is that as soon as we arrive our camp is set up. And so we were soon settled down to dinner as the sun was ending its day. Once again the canoe was put over- board and by this time fishing fever had taken over. I'd purchased a fishing license and had brought along my little Shakespeare rod and reel but forgot to bring any lures. Knowing this I had purchased a Rapala floating minnow The campaign, beginning July 17, and extending through August 2, has as its goal the collection and salvaging of 37,500,000 old records by American Legion Posts, Auxil- iary Units, Forty and Eight Voitures and Sons of the Legion Squadrons. Proceeds from the disposal of the old records as scrap will be used in purchasing new discs and phonograph players, to be sent to every camp, base, post and station where there are Americans in uniform. Pneumonia Cases: The annual number of pneumo- nia cases in the United States is about 500,000. Before introduction of sulfanilamide, about 160,000 were fatal. 25 Years Ago July 21, 1967 Record Attendance at Art Show: For five years the Greenport Art Show, held on Claudio's and Pre- ston's docks has been blessed with clear skies and pleasant breezes. Last Saturday was the sixth consecutive year of the show. The weather forecasts offered a large variety of choices, mostly gloomy. At about 9:40 a.m. Greenport had one of the heaviest rains on record, a veritable deluge. At 10:40 a.m. far off to the west there was a faint clearing of the skies. Shortly after there was a break to be seen to the south; the rain stopped completely, and the Sixth Annual Greenport Art Show went on as scheduled —one hour late. Remembering How It Was As Barbara maneuvered the canoe I tried to refresh my past freshwater fish- ing skills that hadn't been taxed for over 20 years. I guess it's like bike rid- ing: once you know how, it doesn't take long to get it back. I soon found myself able to drop my plug at the edge of the lily pads rimming the shore. It was so dreamlike I didn't even mind not get- ting a hit. We were so quiet we were able to drift up on a mother black duck and her brood of 10 little ones. How they scurried about chasing insects here and there. Then after going about halfway around the pond and passing a spotted sandpiper with her tiny young racing up and down the beach, I finally got a hit and the joy of the catch was renewed. The little pole bent as I played my fish and found it to be a nice small mouth bass. It would do fine for dinner. Later that night as I cleaned the bass on some old newspaper I remembered what we were told about leaving food and fish remains about the camp. We were in bear country and anything like that could invite unwelcome visitors. So all garbage would be stored inside the camper that night. Each day seemed better than the next. We were always within site of the end- less greenery that's made up of ever- greens and hardwoods in this semi - mountainous area. All along the edges where the sun could touch were great clusters of ferns and stubble. Occasion- ally we would stop to stretch our legs at `The sun had long set and the stars were about to pop out when off in the distant woods a lone thrush sang its evening song.' some small town with its country store and tackle shop and whenever a visitor center showed up we'd take advantage of its sights to better acquaint ourselves with the history and uniqueness of the mighty Adirondacks. At one place we saw exhibits of canoes and guide boats that would rival any master craftsman. We saw old films and pictures of the glory days of the grand hotels and fash- ionable tourist trade along with the log- ging industry with its log jams on churning rivers. We were becoming more involved and appreciative of this magnificent north country. Each night we'd build a fire and sit by the flickering light as so many had done in the past. One evening in partic- ular the sun had long set and the stars were about to pop out when off in the distant woods a lone thrush sang its evening song. We wondered what he was singing about. Perhaps he was say- ing he was happy with the world and asked for nothing more than what was around him. If so, we couldn't have said it better, for that's the way we felt also.