The John Brown Farm, Revisited

I arrived in the town of Lake Placid and went immediately to the John Brown farm, a State Historical Site. My walking tour began with the statue of Mr. Brown and a young, freed slave. It gave Mr. Brown's lifespan as 1800 to 1859:

John Brown's house and barn are set in a beautiful, Adirondack location:

The state has placed signs which explain the life and deeds of John Brown. I'm sure I learned about him in high school, but the only thing I remembered was the song, "John Brown's body lies mouldering in the grave." Basically, he was a champion of abolishing slavery and establishing equality for everybody. Frustrated that peaceful means were not accomplishing the goal, he led an assault on the federal armory at Harpers Ferry, West Virginia:

John Brown's raid on Harpers Ferry was unsuccessful and he was captured, tried, convicted and hanged:

I walked over to the little cemetery:

There were two plaques on a large stone, commemorating John Brown:

His grave is protected by a glass enclosure:

Beside John Brown's grave are two others. The first is the final resting place of his son, Oliver, who died during the raid, and many or all of the remains of nine other men who participated:

His other son, Watson, also died during the raid:

I entered and toured John Brown's farm house but no one is allowed to take pictures anymore. But I did take photos five years ago when they were allowed, and you can see them here. I walked down to the pond, crossed the dam and went to have a look at the barn:

I walked around the barn, enjoying the peaceful scenery, and then crossed back over the dam toward the house:

One last look at the house and I left to return home:

Golden Tamaracks And The St. Regis River

I was on my to visit the John Brown farm in Lake Placid, New York (tomorrow's post), but decided to take a scenic detour along the way. I turned onto Shanley Road when I saw the brilliant, golden yellow of the tamaracks:

The trees along Shanley Road often display brilliant autumn colors, but the hardwoods' glory days were in the past at this point. The tamaracks, however, were putting a wonderful show:

This road was so rural that it had a speed limit sign for ATVs. There were few houses, just lovely Adirondack scenery:

Everywhere I looked, I saw beauty:

It is at times such as this that I am grateful to be living in a place of such natural splendor:

At the end of Shanley Road, I turned onto South River Road to continue on to my destination. It too was a rural road, running alongside the St. Regis River. Small boats rested on the riverbank:

Floating docks had been pulled ashore for the winter and mountains formed a backdrop for this scenery:

There was only one classic, family farm, set far off the road, but it too was a scenic gem:

There were marshes along the road and, of course, more golden tamaracks:

South River Road had quite a few summer cottages and they, too were interesting:

By the end of the road, the St. Regis River had dropped down below me and lay shimmering in the autumn light:

I got back on the highway, but stopped one more time in order to get another good view of the St. Regis River. It was at the state boat launch site in the town of Santa Clara, a frequent stop on our way to and from the farm before my retirement. From there, I traveled directly to Lake Placid to see the John Brown farm, but I'll post about that tomorrow:

The Adirondacks Of Keene Valley

We were traveling homeward down through the Adirondack Mountains, the dogs and I. We were on Route 73 in the high peaks region when I stopped along the road to snap a few photos. You can see what a beautiful November day it was. Just ahead of where my car was parked, the road dropped sharply down into the Keene Valley:

Once down to the valley floor I stopped again to capture the glorious view:

Smaller mountains lined the roads while the taller mountains were a few miles away:

This field afforded magnificent views of the nearby high peaks and the ramshackle old barn in the lower left recalls a time when this was someone's hay field or pasture. It wasn't that long ago really:

I got closer to the barn for a better look:

And then decided, "What the heck, I might as well walk right on down there and see it for myself:"

The inside of the barn showed its old structure where, I supposed, horses or cattle once rested during the cold, cold nights of Adirondack winters. Someone had propped up the sagging hay loft with steel columns:

One wall had caved in. I noticed that someone had begun painting the interior white but never finished. The history of the Adirondacks is full of hunters, trappers, explorers, dreamers, farmers and visionaries (like John Brown, buried at his farm near Lake Placid). What a marvelous place, the Adirondacks - a wonderful park, an amazing and enduring legacy for the people of New York State:

Driving Through Lake Placid And Beyond

We drove past the Cascade Lakes without stopping but as we made our way toward the town of Lake Placid, I just couldn't resist. It was just too beautiful to pass by without snapping a few pictures:

When I arrived at Adirondack Loj Road, I pulled off the road for more photos:

These are some of the highest of the high peaks, many of which I hiked when I was younger:

And stretching out in the other direction is the town of Lake Placid with the Olympic high jumps rising high above the buildings. That's where we were heading next:

I stopped at a soccer field behind the Lake Placid High School to snap a picture of Whiteface Mountain. That's the one peak which a person can drive to the top of and I drove it once with my mother shortly before her death:

We drove out of Lake Placid, past the home of John Brown and toward Ray Brook, New York:

The dogs seemed to be getting antsy again but I wasn't sure where we could stop in this area:

And then I remembered a little pull-off along the road which led right into the forest:

So I stopped and let the dogs out to run. They seemed quite happy about it:

Seamus and the younger dogs took off uphill into the forest, sniffing and "anointing" everything:

"Hi Dad, can we go hiking now?"

Daphne discovered a clump of a parasitic plant and I stopped for a photograph. I've had a lot of debate about its identity, but have finally concluded that it was Indian Pipe even though its flowers hadn't yet nodded and even though it was much taller and thinner stalked than usual. Feel free to correct me if I was wrong:

But it was quickly time for all the dogs to hop back up into the car so that we could continue on our way. Little old Winky, as usual, dragged his feet. He was moving toward the car, albeit very slowly. I finally had to help him up into the car which occasioned some angry growling. Winky is and always was a one-of-a-kind: