Discover swimming otters, sunbathing turtles, and a wide variety of native fish species indoors. Then venture out on the nature trails, enjoy the Raquette River oxbow, and don't forget the world-renowned Wild Walk, where you will get a treetop view of the Adirondack landscape. Since no fishing story is complete without one good fish tale, here is ours.
Due to a combination of the deep depths of the lake it's over feet in some places , the large forage base of smelt, and the data received from various fish surveys over the years, New York state fisheries biologists believe the state record walleye may very well live in the murky depths of Big Tupper Lake. Is is really in there, or is it just a legend Don't let another summer go by without discovering the thrill of fishing in the Tupper Lake region.
Browse through our lodging, book a room , and get ready to enjoy some much needed time by the water. Serious omission here! P2s Irish Pub is a must whenever I go home and a highlight I recommend to friends staying or just passing through Tupper Lake! Skip to main content. For the love of fishing For some, fishing is about the thrill of reelin' in the next big trophy fish. Water, water everywhere! One fish, two fish Enough about water -- you're ready to get right to the point and find out what is lurking beneath the surface, right? Fish stocking While the abundant smelt population in our lake makes the walleye, northern pike, perch, and bass populations self sustaining, there is also a significant stocking effort that cranks those numbers up even higher.
A river runs through it Scratch that -- make it two! Accessible shoreline No boat? Discover the wildlife Beyond the fish, the other half of what makes fishing such an enjoyable activity is the wildlife.
ny hiking – ADK Trail Tales and Tails
Refuel the tank! Got beer? Get wild at The Wild Center Whether you are looking for a fun activity for the whole family, a rainy day backup, or an up-close look at the fish that brought you to Tupper Lake in the first place, make sure to set aside time to visit The Wild Center. And last but not least, are you ready to break the record!?
If someone is living paycheck to paycheck just to make ends meet, then taking time off would not even cross their mind in the struggle to keep food on the table. When traveling to a new place it is of course important to appreciate the natural beauty, the unique culture and delicious food but consider also all of the people who put their hard work into making your vacation experience what it is.
Show your gratitude and appreciation for those hardworking people. Places like Meredith do rely on tourists to continue to come visit and enjoy the area but such interactions should be based on the responsibility principle in which the justice criterion is applied so that in every exchange one or both places are made better and no place worse.
Telluride sits toward the end of a box canyon, nestled on all sides by either the slopes or the beckonings of the jagged San Juan Mountains. Along with the rest of the Rocky Mountains, the San Juans formed in the Laramide orogeny somewhere within the span of 80 to 35 million years ago. Oceanic plates slid under what was then the western edge of what is now the North American continent, and the mountain-building potential of that shallow-angled subduction manifested far inland. Several periods of glaciation, up to about 15, years ago, carved valleys into the masses of rock, revealing much older granite and gneiss in the southern Rockies.
This was the contribution of the million-year-old Ancestral Rocky Mountains that had previously risen and crumbled. Bridal Veil Falls, at the eastern end of the canyon, feeds the San Miguel River that runs alongside town, a tributary of the Dolores River, a tributary of the Colorado. There are abundant trees around town, at 8, feet, in contrast to the more low-lying and varied plantlife of the abutting mountains that reach over 14, feet. A meadow of orange and purple on grey, say, gives way to a bright blue lake venerated by tall shrubs, with faces of absolutely red cliffs staring from the distance.
There are so many breathing worlds, like beads on a string, on the trails that snake off in every direction towards the sky. We humans want to learn from nature. Before that, though, there were the Ute people, long-time inhabitants of the Southwest, now largely living on reservations. Encroaching white authorities took the San Juan area from them by deception in , and the miners flooded in. The town of Columbia was established in , soon to be renamed after an ion of Tellurium, element 52, found on gold ore.
The population, an indicator of the American Dream, peaked around 5, and, with the collapse of the rush in advance of World War One, dropped precipitously. The Ames Hydroelectric Plant started supplying power to mines in , making it the first commercial alternating current system for industrial use, and one of the first AC hydro plants built. The Telluride Ski Resort opened in , bringing the adventurers and hippies. The ski area between the two linked municipalities attracts more than , visitors every winter, and counting. Opaque history in open reservoirs. Perfect turquoise surreality.
They were made during camp, in vans headed to the haunts of disappeared poets, or in the living room where my extended family celebrated winter holidays. They rise, pointing towards the unknown. Among the most accessible and popular hiking trails in the valley, it provides a window into the dominant past and present land uses: summer and winter recreation, nature preserve, and mineral extraction.
I cannot see the difference between the orange lichen and the crumbling rust. On an earlier occasion in snowshoes a late afternoon glow wavering horizontally lengthwise through the valley. Through cool dark clouds walking forward like looking up from ocean depths. White dust blows over the ground blown from the ridge from the right up there which separates the. However, the watershed is today at the middle of a tug-of-war between a legacy of ecologically-negligent mining, expanding human water use, and new conservation efforts.
In the course of digging for a pipe from the mine to a water treatment facility, the cleanup crew inadvertently opened a leak. It could not be contained. The water was a sickly gold-orange, acidic and filled with heavy metals. In a matter of hours, 3,, gallons of the toxic water had flowed into the Animas River, a tributary of the San Juan River. For a moment, arsenic levels were times above the normal level, and lead levels Governor Hickenlooper declared it a disaster. The Animas has returned to normal. The river also holds cultural significance for the Navajo people who live near it.
While very much bound up in the same kind of geography and history as Silverton, the site of the Gold King Mine, an incident of that nationally-reported magnitude has not at this point befallen nearby Telluride and the San Miguel River. A memorandum from Telluride Public Works finds pH, temperature, dissolved oxygen, and conductivity within standards as well.
The Colorado Water Conservation Board has established in-stream flow standards for rivers including the San Miguel, but these are sometimes not met because of higher demand or lower flow. Current regulations on the San Miguel are meant to preserve the flannelmouth sucker, bluehead sucker, and roundtail chub fish.
At least for Telluride and Silverton, the question of pollution, made fragile by past choices, is one dependent on community decisions of legacy, character, and responsibility. I was particularly drawn to those which tell about the figures of Blood Clot and Pokoh, the Old Man, because they describe a process of birth and identity that is deeply rooted in local geography, wildlife, and society.
The following poem represents a preliminary attempt for me to parse the place-centered cosmology behind these legends. Uranium, for one, has had a spectacular effect on the area — economically, environmentally, and societally. Uravan was another town on the San Miguel river, downstream from Telluride. In the midth century it was a site of radium, vanadium, and uranium processing. It is now a Superfund site. It would be the U. The film tracks residents of nearby towns Nucla and Naturita, optimistic about the opportunity to bring jobs closer to their homes and revitalize the suffering local economy.
On the other side are those immediately disgusted by the development, represented by Sheep Mountain Alliance, an environmental organization based in Telluride. Beraza does an excellent job portraying the conflict with remarkably little bias, giving the Paradox Valley residents an all-too-rare voice in national-scale discussion and making her environmental documentary more of an intimate human portrait.
Their livelihoods are directly impacted by the work of those elsewhere, including in Telluride, but most of those elsewhere hardly care. The natural component of the place is so visible to and valued by the environmentalists that it blinds them to the other half of the equation. The purported environmentalists were hardly affected by the affairs of their rural county neighbors, but were determined to exert their influence on them. That is, the people dwelling and tangled up in distantly connected places should be allowed center stage in steering the environmental issues the effects of which they feel more strongly than anyone else.
Radical inclusivity in decisionmaking should be necessary at every scale from municipal to global, everywhere from the Arctic to the rural Southwest to Small Island Developing States. We need more of the awareness of activist-artists like Suzan Beraza and Lucy Walker, who transcend the doom-and-gloom scientific documentary to get at deeper and fuller portrayals of complex human-natural subjects. Wallace Stevens says truth comes from a walk around the lake. I wonder, can truth come from breakfast cereals too? One of my earliest memories is eating a bowl of Raisin Bran with my three older brothers one eleven minutes fraternal in our shake-shingle house on Winchester Road.
It was my first day of preschool, and eighteen months prior, my parents had swapped townhome life in Cathedral Heights, Washington D. The taste was irresistible. How could ingredients blend so perfectly well? I marveled. Why were my taste buds so amply in love? Could I feel love? No, not yet. Curiosity came naturally to my unlettered mind, which, early on, had no standard of interpretation really other than taste and sound.
Natural environments had a wonderful way of pacifying me, even amidst my deepest, darkest childhood tantrums. At Pines on the Severn Park, some-twelve minutes, I would crawl, slither and inch around remarkable places: climbing gyms, sand castles, bridges and bollards, and the baseball diamond, just paces from the creeks suffusing my neighborhood. In those days Severn Park was a kind of old hardwood floor: I could listen to it breathe with old footsteps, whispering messages and, in some cases, secrets. In this act I resign to what seems in the bones an uncontrollable certainty.
It is steam assuming from a limpid cup of tea, from home ground into heaven.
Detroit-born activist and radical culturist Allen Van Newkirk was the first to advocate for bioregionalism, the political-environmental ethic which favors dissolution — in some cases, abandonment — of traditional geopolitical boundaries and supports the establishment of state lines drawn by naturally-occurring topography, hydrology, or ecology. Bioregionalists idealize that the makeup of civil society should be a series of localized, interacting metropoles, whose limits are based on fine- or regional-scale biogeochemical typologies, such as water drainage basins or a mountain range.
I resonate with bioregionalists. Their thought experiment of how to realize a localized bioregional framework for civil-social bodies applied near Cool Spring Creek, on the Severn River in Annapolis, is a fruitful one. Re-framing my hometown within a more comprehensive, Bay-wide bioregion could encourage some of these inner-learning processes across populations of the mid-Atlantic. Further, widespread recognition of connectedness among the six watershed states and the District of Columbia could very well lead to positive conservation and environmental policy on state, even Federal, levels.
Of course, establishing the Chesapeake Bay watershed as a bioregion would require consideration of myriad of possibilities and perspectives. It would be quite hard, for instance, to democratize the effort. Would leaders of this movement remain hip to the preferences or priorities of all cultures currently inhabiting the basin?
I wonder. Would some semblances of the pre-shift economic and lifeway choices be conserved after the shift? And what would the process look like to determine the figures of authority in the context of a natural-mechanical mosaic? And do the opinions of the geology community bear more weight than those of the fishermen, or the fishery?
My college years are settling much like the ash after forest fire. In the face of the heat, I have found myself at once elated by the experience, surprised with my headway. For one, this spring, I found myself at the San Diego airport describing, when asked where I was from, the town of Middlebury. Perhaps somewhere within, I have settled on this place as home.
Instead of thinking of Cool Spring Creek, or the inlet, or the brackish wash nursing the inner marsh at the foot of my yard, my mind leapt up to Chipman Hill and down Champlain Valley, in which the town is nestled. Instead I looked to the vistas and peaks I had seen when I arrived in Middlebury as a first-year. The topography rolled past as if torn straight from summery-warm New England tourist journals. Conversing to a Southwest stranger in an airport, I knew the snow-capped mountains, and barns, and wind farms of Addison County were as vital to me, after all this time, as they were the first time I saw them.
In I know them much better; I have seen their full extents, from many heights. Still, they ensnare me as tightly as when they were stranger to me, less familial. Its boundaries seem less stable than they were in my tens in upper-class suburbia. In search of the rest of my life, place-based constructs whether effete or cynical will forever alter my own sense of selfhood.
The project of environmental philosophy, to my knowledge, seems similar to that of the geographer, that is, to know where things are and when they have been there. Accordingly, home ground does the same for me. And upon reflection, as I watch my undergrad years wane and get ready to leave the Middlebury podium, I suspect these lines will be drawn anew once more.
We came to know the degree to which identities in First Nation tribes of the U. Northeast were disrupted and, many argue, marred by the engine of economy and colonization. Thousands of American-aboriginal tribes, including the Algonquin peoples e. Through colonizing processes, it is clear to me that long-held constructs of identity based on emotional and physical ties to land and place were bedimmed and transformed by contemporaneity.
Consequently, frame shifts in culturally-sacred landmarks, myths, symbols and rituals of commemoration, heavily based on land and place, were part and parcel of this transformation. What follows is a poem that calls to prayer.
- water reflections tales of the lakes rivers and streams of the adirondacks and beyond Manual.
- Along the Adirondack Trail (Images of America).
- The Ordinary Box With Extraordinary Secrets;
- mountains – ADK Trail Tales and Tails;
- The Vikings Tooth?
- Water Reflections.
- Keepin’ It Reel: Fishing (For Fun) On New York’s #adkcoast;
It lends space for re-learning the problematics of whiteness, post-colonial legacy, and indigenous dolor, which persist today. The sharpness of the wooded threshold surprises me, piques my fingertips, like youths, frightful of splinters. Beneath my home is loss, a whole slew of it, an Iroquois burial ground. Chesapeake Bay once boiled with fishery. Now it stagnates, feels. Like early-spring wrecks of autochthonous marsh grass remembers the weight of the snow, I challenge us to remember and think much of still another exhibit in the space of our heads: bloodshed of the Iroquois.
We cleared. Wake up, white ones who trample sacred sites. Be away with your bitterness. Let us slide gently into some new incarnation. So, we are more whole, as one. For one, the two-and-a-half year moratorium on hydraulic fracturing a. Once the ban lifts, the bill requires Maryland officials to develop standards for the fracking industry. Larry Hogan Rep. Neighboring-state governance has mixed feelings about fracked gas futures.
While New York has a unexpiring moratorium on hydraulic fracturing, Pennsylvania and West Virginia, which are on the Marcellus Shale formation, are among the largest hubs of fracking activity in the U. On June 22, state officials from the Department of the Environment published revisions for gas drilling regulations in Maryland. Many residents in my neighborhood are vocal opponents of gas drilling in Maryland, even though fracked gas might lead to lower electric bills. Only a zero-tolerance approach can curb environmental tragedy.
In the last few seasons, neighborhoods have worked to build power and spread awareness, sounding the clarion through events, leafleting, and rallies. While industry officials from Chevron Appalachia, Consol, and Shell have pledged to the environmental standards forwarded by corporate social responsibility groups, including the Sustainable Shale Development SSD , gas-industry infractions occur every day.
I visited one of the most densely fracked counties in the world in February with Middlebury students and wrote about it here. The eight-day trip led to a frameshift in the way I see environmental issues. In order to correct false consciousness of place, communities must mobilize around core sustainability values.
Old Forge and Inlet
For residents near Cool Spring Creek and all Marylanders really, part of enacting a resilient energy future means disempowering draconian natural resource extraction. Source: Plumwood, Val. Shadow Places and the Politics of Dwelling. Australian Humanities Review Long Beach, California… My city. The city by the sea. My community. My people. My home. My vibes. These are some of the first things that come to mind when I process the words Long Beach, California.
Long beach is a place of many places if that makes sense. If anybody were to ask me where im from in Long Beach, you would hear me say the eastside. If any eastsiders are reading this, yeah, East New York street. Although I spent many of my first years in Long Beach on the northside, I definitly embrace and was embraced as an honorary eastside baby shoutout all the northside homies. I have a good amount of family and extended family who has many of their roots flourishing in Long Beach; the eastside of course. As far as a place, Long Beach has had impacts and influences on me as a living organism, that has shaped my mind and thoughts in a way I dont think any other place could do.
Not to speak as a narrow-minded person; but Long Beach has let me experience sounds, sights, feelings, and emotions that I believe are truly unique to this place. As I continue to build on how I assess and understand place, I will always put my city first, and being able to better understand and make sense of my place, is what I strive for. Shoutout the city. After comparing and contrasting my original thoughts of what bioregionalism stands for with what Klyza thought about bioregionalism, I considered that there are solid confinments of what bioregionalism stands for and means, and that bioregionalism is not as open in meaning as I thought.
As an after thought, I would like to expand on the concept of bioregionalism in a way that encompasses more than what bioregionalism covers as a specific realm of knowledge and exploration. I thought about climate change, ecocentrism, social and environmental justice, and other facets of similar sorts. Christopher Klyza spoke to the aspect of how such ideologies do not particularly encompass what bioregionalism stands for. What I could take from Klyza was that our current movement is too anthropocentric.
Our goals as of now in society for our green movement is human and economy based, and with those goals they do not encompass bioregionalism. I now perceive bioregionalism as a concept that is deeper than just humans and money while also improving the environment , but more so focused on interconnecting the relationship between land and people in a way that favors neither points of view human vs.
In terms of understanding place, I feel we are at a point in history in which the only way we can progress the environmental movement as a society, is by thinking of the environment and all of its biodiversity as dollar signs. Although such idealogy can put the environment in a better place in terms of climate effects, deforestation, and other facets of natural nature as it exist, such thinking does not put genuine emphasis on the interconnection between biodiversity including humans , and the environment.
That is what I was able to take from Klyza, and it made a lot of sense to me, aswell as exposed me to a deeper thinking and understanding of place, and the environment. Bioregionalism is definitely something I would consider to be a literature and way of life that has been lost as environmental practitioners and beneficiaries have frequently searched for a way to promote a concept of going green over the decades. Such concepts as people thinking within watersheds, and the interconnection between all that is life and the natural Earth are essential ideas that encompass my synopsis of what bioregionalism is.
In relation to bioregionalism and the current green movement, Long Beach is somewhere in between. With so much urban life and development in Long Beach, one could only imagine how hard it is to get a mass of people to think about their connections to the natural environment within their city and ecosystem. What is good for Long Beach is that there is a large amount of diverse people, as well as a prospering economy. When thinking of Long Beach from a bioregionalism perspective, I believe many of these aspects of life and prosperity are achievable and realistic for Long Beach Especially thinking within watersheds.
Southern California struggles with water! With this being the official 3rd week or so at Middlebury, I have really grown an appreciation for the pond and open field behind the arts museum. Before it was assigned as an assignment to pick a place to understand better, I had already spent a good amount of free time at these two places. When I first visited this area of campus I thought of the pond and the field as two seperate places, one for my working out and one for my hanging out. As I continued to visit these places at various times of the day I found myself realizing that these two places are indeed joint and not seperate at all.
As I continue to expand on my understanding of place I also have noticed that I am far more aware of the different systems around me. I find this to be more aesthetically and environmentally pleasing for me than how I have previously viewed my surrondings both in and outside of buildings. Besides my personal connections I have made to understanding different places, virtual water was heavily focused on in class this week.
As most people probably do, I thought virtual water was actual water. To my understanding now, I believe that virtual water is an economic estimate of water in different countries. Without going into much detail, I feel that virtual water being an economic estimate of water in different countries can be good or bad. All in all, that is the world we live in, so not much can be done in terms of people always thinking of systems in dollar signs. On another note, I think that the concept of virtual water can be very prosperous and beneficial for getting water to places that need water.
Financial senses are one of the main senses used when most people, businesses, and different forms of governments make decisions. Money is important, so in this case virtual water is definitly a concept that should be given further dedication to furthering and expanding on the ideas involving virtual water. As I continue to understand different places I am really glad I recognize and think in systems more than I have before this summer session of SOE had started. Exploring Vermont has been amazing thus far. I will always be keen to the minority, so it is important for me to give proper recognition whenever I can, as I too am part of a culture and people that has to this day, struggled immensely to survive.
The Tongva had 3 major settlements in the region, and were estimated to have had nearly 5, to 10, people. It disturbed me that before a previous assignment, that I was not aware of originating native tribes in my own place. Nonetheless, it was enlightening to read about the Tongva culture, their existence, and their beliefs. One important aspect of understanding place is history. Who was here?
How was it? What did it look like? These are all important historical questions that are important and in some cases vital to know, as humans continue to evolve and understand place, aswell as human cultures, and the differences among them. These questions can elicit answers of geographical importance, ecological importance, political importance, aswell as social and cultural importance. In this day and age, it is easy to move forward without acknowleding history, which I feel is one of the weak points of properly and effectively understanding place.
This not only can have negative impacts on places, but people aswell. With Long Beach being as diverse a place as it is, this has never been uncommon for me or surprising. With understanding place, comes a sense of understanding culture and people, aswell as location.
I loved expanding on that concept this week, and it has given be a very insightful and useful synopsis of how I can continue to evolve my understanding of place. Growing up in Long Beach, I primarily have always lived in close proximity around Black and Hispanic communities. From the neighborhoods I lived in, to where I went to school, to where I spent my weekends, for as long as I can remember, Blacks and Hispanics have been an integrated group of people that inhabit Long Beach.
With California not being far from the borders of Mexico, many Hispanics enter California both legally and illegally. In this instance, particularly people that are undocumented, have far less avenues of opportunity to pursue, that lead to economic longevity in America. These are the Hispanics throughout my life I have grown to become very close with at different times in my life; that being both documented and undocumented Hispanics.
Through my lifetime of interactions with Hispanic people and their cultures, I have witnessed and lived through many of both the positive and negative experiences of being Hispanic, or better yet a minority here in America. In addition to my own experiences as a minority in America, I feel I have a pretty good sense of both the documented and undocumented struggles and obstacles Hispanics can potentially run into. Nonetheless, for quite a portion of my life now, I have always known that these are the people that make up for a large proportion of jobs in America that are essential needs that nobody else wants to do.
Many of these jobs and different work locations are amongst the biggest shadow places in America, of which are not seen for their benefit to society. What does this lead to in many cases? The Migrant Workers group here in Vermont gave me a very insightful view of the injustices many Hispanic migrants here in Vermont are faced with.
In many senses Hispanic farm workers in Vermont are exploited by the dairy farm industry. Unjust wages, long hours, and lack of living and social benefits are all relevant for many of these workers. In terms of place, what I learned through Migrant Justice gave me an entirely new perspective of Vermont as a place. Despite how different of places I perceive Vermont and Long Beach to be, speaking towards the sense of inequalities in America, I directly connected this Vermont region to Long Beach.
Both of these places are full of authorities, entities, and people that execute a number of injustices towards a certain group of people. What I found key about all of the learning and connections I made around the issue of understanding place, was the fact that I could not separate my experience of place, from my experience of people.
My accumulation of experiences with Hispanic communities in Long Beach, and more recently the Vermont region, I have shaped many of my very own perceptions of place, community, and surrounding around my experience with people. Are people not what make the environment? No, with or without humans, the environment will persist. It is one thing to exploit land, such as the mass reduction of resources and other forms of environmental degradation, but exploiting both the land and certain groups of people is a lose-lose situation. As people strive to understand place in ways we have and have not yet imagined, it is important strive to understand people as well.
This cannot be done if those people are simply being exploited. As the views of environmental concerns continue to alter and grow, it is important to merge our understanding of place and people. It began attracting settlers in the late s, and gained its name from the various game traps throughout the hills. Traphill is known for the spectacular and diverse mountain beauty, and Stone Mountain State Park one of the most popular parks of North Carolina is located there. Traphill is located in Wilkes County, the largest geographical county in the state, where Wilkesboro and North Wilkesboro are the main towns.
The population was almost 2, as of the year While Traphill has a strong reputation for being a moonshine capital during prohibition and, more recently, the meth capital for the nation, there is incredible natural beauty there. The problems lie in economic and social disadvantages, which are attributable to many things that exist in a cycle like poor education, no public transportation, little political representation, and food deserts. The economic struggle of the people has impact on the land directly, where people sell land that has been in their family for generations to get money for the wood or resources on it.
As far as land management goes, much of Traphill is used agriculturally or for livestock. The count is number one is the state for cows; second in the state for sheep, goats, and milk, and for corn; third in the state for chicken; and also ranks highly in the state for christmas trees, fruit and nut trees or berries, and hay. Oddly enough, it is very hard to find locally grown produce in Traphill as, first of all, you have to go to neighboring towns to find a grocery store, and secondly, so much of this agriculture and livestock is sent away to other cities and states.
So, while much of the flatter land is used for agriculture, much of the sloped land is cleared for lumber and more agriculture space. In the past few years and since my childhood, I have personally seen acres upon acres of lush, diverse forest destroyed. However, I have also noticed in some places that secondary forest is growing quickly quick as in a few years. With all the agriculture, though, runoff from pesticides and fertilizers tend to be a problem, as with other means of pollution as simple as littering.
Since Traphill is so rural, many of the residents use wells for their water, which in all the homes there that I have been to is commonly undrinkable. This closeness to my heart is a large part of why I chose to focus my project there, hoping that I can come away with some knowledge or tools to move forward and make a change in my home community. Thinking about Traphill through the context of bioregionalism has opened up a new perspective for me. It is hard to find more than just basic information about Traphill, since it is a tiny town with very little interest to anyone, so some of my information comes from personal experience and family stories.
In , 14, acres of land were designated as a National Natural Landmark, known as Stone Mountain State Park, probably in response to the growing bioregionalism movement mentioned by Aberly. The presence of Stone Mountain State Park has attracted lots of people to the area who built seasonal homes there.
The bioregion in this area is lush, diverse, and much like a warmer version of Vermont, but with more small streams and less lakes. The people play a strong part in shaping the region with their lifestyles and agricultural practices, which tends to be highly industrialized and laden with pesticides and fertilizers so strong that my mother who is allergic to pesticides cannot spend time outside on the days when they are spraying these chemicals.
A sense of land ethic is very weak here, where people litter at every campsite on the river and burn their trash in the backyard. Looking at my hometown through these new lenses is quite eye opening because it gives me the opportunity to not only learn more about the issues in my community, but gives me a better understanding of how I may help combat these problems in the future.
Traphill, NC has an interesting connection with virtual water. Traphill is part of the Upper Yadkin watershed, and to discuss properly the use of water and the presence of virtual water in Traphill, I will also mention the neighboring towns. Traphill gets 48 inches of water a year, and about 6 inches of snow. The presence of mercury is most prevalent, and stretches through miles of rivers and streams and across 1, acres of lakes and ponds. There are no lakes in Traphill, but several small unnamed ponds at the ends of creeks and hidden in the woods. There is, then, the issue of drinking water for the residents.
The effect was profound and long-lasting. Lovers of art and nature are still drawn to the site of the old Mountain House. Howard Godel: This is magnificent. Alex Boyle: Do you think Church was ever hired by the Catskill Mountain house to paint up here or did they just come up here for the heck of it? Howard Godel: I think all the artists made a pilgrimage up here because it was one of the premiere resorts in the whole area.
Dealers in the art of the American landscape- following footsteps that Hudson River School painters left here years ago in their search for the perfect location to view the American Eden. Alex Boyle: Now you can see why they all came here. So many different things they could do. Alex Boyle: They could explore fifty different compositions on a single sketching trip. Just because it was such a schlep to get up here.
They came here, it was said, for the contemplation of eternal things. Actor reads words of Painter Thomas Cole : In the Kaaterskill we have a stream, diminutive indeed, but throwing itself headlong over a fearful precipice into a deep gorge of densely wooden mountains—and possessing a singular feature in the vast arch cave that extends beneath and behind the cataract. Thomas Cole : The waterfall may be called the voice of the landscape…, for unlike the rocks and the woods which utter sounds as passive instruments played on by the elements, the waterfall strikes its own chords.
Bill Moyers: This description was written by a young, unknown painter named Thomas Cole who joined the crowds of tourist climbing the trail to Kaaterskill Falls. He was down on his luck and thought he would try his hand at landscape painting. He made a few sketches and took the steamboat back to New York. The Hudson as being an integral part of it, a sign of the hand of man. Front page news. Howard Godel: It was like a singer in the 20th Century. You just got discovered. Howard Godel: The artists were not only celebrities but they were into the commerce.
They had a famous building called the 10th St. Studio and they used to have big studios with pictures there so that the collectors could come around and see what the different artists were doing. Howard Godel: They brought opera glasses to see the work and the critics raved about them. And the thing about Church and Bierstadt was in the days before TV and radio and popular magazines, these artists were celebrities. And they were on the front page of newspapers and their travels to different parts of the world were reported upon. They took a special and important place in society.
Bill Moyers: The pictures were deceptively simple. Lovely scenes of natural settings painted with skill and fascination with the complex details of nature. These were scenes that Americans recognized as their own, unlike any in the world. American Art. And they suggested a noble and fruitful land, unspoiled by commerce, a world Americans would prefer to remember.
In this time before movies, TV and photography it was America getting to look at itself- at its very best.
The International art world took notice and voted its approval. American landscape art flourished for fifty years until going out of fashion toward the end of the Century. Paintings which sold for enormous sums of money plummeted in value and disappeared into attics and cellars- some were sold for the price of their frames. But the old landscapes made a comeback- now they can be worth millions- to find a good one is to find gold. Where do you think he got it from? Just had it in the bins? Bill Moyers: Howard Godel and Alex Boyle frequently break one of the cardinal rules of their trade: Keep a distance from the art; do not fall in love with the pictures.
Remain cool and aloof. At this they fail. But it could be the Adirondacks. Howard Godel: … even though people love landscapes that have figures in it, some of the greatest American landscapes have no houses and no people. He had a studio on 10th Street in Manhattan. Which actually today would make it extraordinary. Instead he did it over some anonymous lake in either Vermont or the Adirondacks.
But it was a New York sunset. To quote Cole in his own words when describing this picture. The lofty Catskills stand afar. The green hills gently rising from the flood, recede like steps by which we may ascend to a great temple, whose pillars are those everlasting hills and whose dome is the boundless vault of heaven. Bill Moyers: Well is that part of the answer to this question? There was a James River, and a Charles River, and a Delaware River that played important roles in the early life of this nation. Alex Boyle: The Erie Canal.
That made the Hudson the Queen City of the American continent. New Orleans was 2, miles farther away and this was the highway west because they could sail right…all the European immigrant who went out to places like Chicago, and Buffalo, and Minnesota. Once they got on the Erie Canal they were on the great lakes water system.
Because it all ran through here. Howard Godel: Philadelphia and Boston were big cities but this was the city of trade, and this was the city of commerce, and this was where the great finance capital of America was, Wall Street. So all the wealth, the greatest wealth of America was right in New York. So this is where the artists would have found patrons and would have found collectors. The great landscape paintings have waited a hundred years in the basement to be rediscovered.
Barbara Novak : I said to myself, why am I interested in these paintings because they are not Renascence paintings, I had been raised on European art. And why am I fascinated? And then I realized I was fascinated because it taught me about the culture. Barbara Novak : So we could, we could certainly put, you know, this one probably would work well with that. Barbara Novak: I started out not knowing what I was going to find. And I finally, after a few years said, well, God is it. This was what they all care about. You see it was pre-Darwin. And this is so important. There was still this belief in providential destiny.
Geology was very important to them. And so then time had a different sense for them. So they all had that feeling. Or the wilderness, both different kinds of paradise which is what they were looking for. Actor reads words of Thomas Cole: I cannot but express my sorrow that the beauty of such landscapes are quickly passing away—the ravages of the axe are daily increasing —the most noble scenes are made desolate, and oftentimes with a wantonness and barbarism scarcely credible in a civilized nation.
Barbara Novak : Every time there was a tree that was cut down he cried. They were caught in this kind of paradox. They wanted to civilize the continent and they wanted progress and at the same time they wanted to preserve the wilderness and to preserve untouched landscape. Bill Moyers: So is this what you meant when you wrote they were caught between nature and culture?
That this land, that we were given this land to revere it, and to treasure it. And you despoil it at your risk. Always a cocky and spirited place, New York had an energy fueled by money, ambition and sense of opportunity-. And every young man who was anybody, or wanted to be somebody, was sure to be wearing a beaver hat. Bill Moyers: There was a growing enthusiasm for machines in the early 19th Century- for things that were new- for science and technology- a belief that inventions were the way to wealth, prosperity and a better life for everyone.
One fervent believer was Robert Livingston a man of immense wealth and landholdings who had invested in a new machine called the steamboat. Demonstrating the model is a gifted young inventor from Pennsylvania named Robert Fulton. Fulton was an artist who, like his colleague Samuel Morse, had turned to science and invention to make a living. His steamboat would be built in Manhattan with an engine made in England. Fulton cannot be said to be the inventor of the steamboat. What he did was take the best features of many earlier efforts and combine them.
And he had a genius for calculating the costs of the fares and the profits to be harvested from them.
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Bill Moyers: August 17, The Maiden voyage. A boat powered by a tea kettle. And rumors that Fulton had hired a whale to tow the boat to Albany. After a long morning of delays and frustration the young inventor gave a signal for perhaps the very first time in history : Full steam ahead. The boat moved a short distance and then stopped. Actor reads words of Robert Fulton: I was well aware that in my case there were many reasons to doubt my success. My friends were in groups on the deck. There was anxiety mixed with fear among them. They were silent, sad and weary.
I read in their looks nothing but disaster, and almost repented of my efforts. The doubters in the crowd became friends and admirers. And investors. There would be streets and towns and counties named Fulton. Bill Moyers: The sight of the thing terrorized boatmen who up till now had lived by the rules of tide, wind, and current. One witness described it as a backwoods sawmill mounted on a scow and set on fire. Roger Panetta: When the Steamboat came to the Hudson the machine really entered the garden.
Roger Panetta: We tend to use this in our understanding of American history and thinking of the United States as a garden. Roger Panetta: The garden of Eden. Untouched by modern technology. The steamboat really breaks the back of the that idea because it promises to conquer nature, that it promises to deliver you to a certain place on time, regardless of the tides and the currents, and that really is a manifestation of our ability to get control of nature.
Roger Panetta: No. You could spend a week getting to Albany. And if we think of the early 19th Century as the beginning of capitalism, and we know the close connection between capitalism and time, and the emerging market economy, this delivering of people and goods on time becomes very central to the development of capitalism. And in fact, the whole history of New York City is so wrapped up in that, that it cannot be separated really from the history of the Hudson.
Bill Moyers: So, the steamboat enabled us to fix nature, tame nature…to put nature on a schedule, our schedule? Bill Moyers: It was at this place on the river that Henry Hudson gave up his search for a shorter and faster route to the Pacific Spice Islands. Disappointed, he turned back. He could not foresee that this place would become an economic bonanza, an Eldorado, fueled by a phenomenon we know as the Industrial Revolution.
Factories would bloom in the garden. Those are not trees along the river, but smokestacks. Bill Moyers: It was a place where water tumbled from the hillsides near the Hudson and where the Mohawk headed west. Enterprising Dutchmen and New England Yankees would build a brand new city here, and call it Troy, a city made by water, water for transportation and water for power.
A million horseshoes a week, one every second. Actor reads ad: Messieurs H. Burden and Sons desire to inform all concerned in the selling and use of horse and mule shoes that they have now a new and greatly improved machine and successful operation. It takes a bar of iron as it comes from the rolls of the mill and converts it into shoes of any desired pattern at the rate of one a second. Let anyone shoe a horse on one side with these shoes and on the other side with the best handmade shoes of the same wearing surface and thickness and he can judge for himself which he would prefer.
Actor reads ad: In the stove manufacture, as in every other branch of industrial productiveness to which the energies of her citizens are directed, Troy stands preeminent. There is not another city in the Empire State where so many stoves are annually manufactured as in Troy. This may seem a broad assertion but can be supported by statistics! Actor reads story: The enterprise of Trojans is worthy of all imitation. We believe that without exception they are the most enterprising people in the United States. There is among them a noble spirit of rivalship untinctured by jealousy of each other. Another actor reads another story: Few towns in the country have advanced with greater rapidity.
Prosperity is written upon almost every habitation and in every mart of business. Another actor reads another story: Situated near the head of navigation and at the outlet of the great canals, her situation offers uncommon facilities for the purposes either of commerce of manufactures. Mayor Mark Pattison: Troy was at one point the eleventh largest city in the country and the fourth wealthiest per capita.
The Erie Canal opened up west of the country and Troy was the center of that, the crossroads. That was all. You know, the Irish were full of laborers, you know what I mean? And they were all laborers and you made a living here, you know and it was a living. Mayor Pattison : Kate Mullaney was a nineteen-year-old woman in the laundry shops and she started the first woman-run, woman-only labor union in the country. Actor reads words of Troy Collar Worker: I considered myself unusually lucky to have been born and brought up in Troy, New York where the shirt and collar factories offered employment to women.
The starching was about all there was for a girl of sixteen, so a starcher I became. And a starcher I am. In our factory all talking is strictly forbidden. You run the risk of instant dismissal. Even at the noon hour you can only whisper. The foreman said she did it on purpose. Bill Moyers: A million collars a day for a new class of people who worked in offices and had to have collars that were white, and clean, white-collar workers. In the days of coal smoke and soot, shirt collars quickly became soiled and during the summer months proper businessmen changed their shirts several times a day.
It was the way smart men of business dressed for seventy-five years. The starchers work very quickly of course, they have to both for the sake of the collars and for the sake of their wages. If a starcher drops one collar on the floor, she is docked five dozen collars. In other words for every collar dropped on the floor the girl must starch five dozen collars for nothing. These factories supply nearly ninety percent of all the collars and cuffs sold in the United States. Bill Moyers : The glory of the industrial revolution was in the making of iron and steel. Troy was the first capitol of that Great American Romance.
Actor reads story: The sight of an iron manufactory has always struck me as grand and stupendous. Fire pouring out of so many crimson caverns and belching out flame and smoke as do the craters of Vesuvius and Aetna. Swarthy sons of Vulcan in attendance be smeared with smoke and dripping with perspiration. It all seemed like a picture of the lower regions. Peopled with devils as if each man was surrounded by the elements of destruction. Okay, as you would know. It was very dirty and dusty because you had the blast furnaces, you had the coke plant that manufactured coke.
Then the stench from the coke plant would kill you. You know what I mean? And when I came home in and a fella came with me that lived in New York, he wanted to come up here. He never smelt that. It was like a bad egg smell, like rotten eggs. They were manufacturing coke and the soot from all the mills, Republic Steel, so you put your clothes out, you could always tell some kid from south Troy because his clothes had soot all over them.
When you were out on a date with somebody out of your area, which is going out of south Troy, now they knew who you were. So you had this thing about you, right. So there was two different elements in here, you know what I mean? Richard Seltzer: How to explain to the riverless child what a river is. Imagine green and silver in motion you tell him. But what is the real youth of a river, he interrupts. For those who live on its banks the river is time itself, approaching, surging past, vanishing, never to be called back.
You can tell your secrets to a river, it just carries them away. The elderly can sit by its waters and weep for the passing of a better day. As a boy he became fascinated with the mythical Troy described by Homer. He would find, in his own Troy, echoes of the glories and dramas of that ancient Greek city. An hour later he will return, his arms piled with books.
Later in his bed he will read far into the night. Richard Seltzer: It was another six months before I had the thrill of being admitted to the adult stacks of the library and there I found The Odyssey and the Iliad, which changed my life forever. Puny, ill clothed so as to resemble an ungainly parcel, distracted, I dreamt of building a raft and sailing it all the way down the Hudson to New York harbor. It would be in all the newspapers. I would be acclaimed the Admiral of New York.
Bill Moyers: The Admiral of New York went off to Yale and became a surgeon, professor of surgery and, later, gave it all up to become a writer. One of his passions is his hometown of Troy, city on the Hudson. He shares the memory of his boyhood with his old friend architecture professor Patrick Quinn. Richard Seltzer: Every once in a while when my eccentricities threaten to get out of hand, I send myself back to Troy where they are not so apt to be noticed among the general oddity.
In my Troy, each street had its own personality. That block of Second Street, where I lived for the first seven years of my life, was a scene out of an Edith Wharton novel. In my Troy, if nowhere else, there was enough love to go around. If the hereafter is anything like my Troy, I may be readier for it than I thought. As far as I remember. Richard Seltzer: My father first brought me here to see the autumn leaves. Richard Seltzer: Yes. So here we came and I saw with astonishment this structure at the age of about eight or nine. You can imagine. I asked him then what became of the smoke, and he said, well it just drifts off out of the tower and I said, and we breathe it in do we.
So I said it falls on our vegetables and our fruit, right?
- The Possessive Kiss: Victorias Story: Book Two of The Kiss Series.
- A Loaf of Bread.
- Adirondack Tales.
- Original Booklists: Back to the Land: Tales of Rural Life.
- Der Hoftag 1188 in Mainz (German Edition).
We are eating the dead. Forget about the autumn leaves. Richard Seltzer: Yes, it was full of edible fish then, after all the Mohegan Tribe for generations survived on the bounty of this river. This was their main source of food. But I once was standing on the Green Island Bridge and looking down into the water and I saw a great dark shape in the river moving along the bottom.
And I said to myself, Richard, that is a sturgeon and I have told that to many people, none of whom, including you, have believed me. Patrick Quinn: When this confluence here, was filled with factories and foundries and all sorts of great things, there was money coming in and they were living high on the hog and there were buildings like this- no other city in the world could afford a crematorium like this at that time.
They had money here. They had six opera houses, they had all sorts of things. I have to tell you a story about, a recent story about Troy Ironworks and you are not going to believe this. I went to hate the museum because I disliked his work intensely. I like to go to hate things. I stayed to like the museum. The Vitra Museum. Patrick Quinn: The only one from any other city in the world that was earlier than the nineteen hundreds.
Related Water Reflections: Tales of the Lakes, Rivers and Streams of the Adirondacks and Beyond
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