The Amish Forest - Part 1

There is an Amish family just down the gravel road from me. They have carved their farm out of the forest and built all the buildings. The husband trims my horses' hooves and one day I asked him if he owned the forest across the road from his house because there was an attractive dirt lane going into it which I'd like to walk with the dogs. He said he did not, but gave me the phone number of the man who did. I called and got permission to walk the lane, and one morning I did so. I parked my car across from the Amish farm:

And entered the forest with my very excited dogs:

All along the edge of the lane were blackberries in full bloom. There will be some good eating this summer by the looks of things:

And underfoot were hundreds of wild strawberries, fully ripe:

Ovenbirds, Chickadees and Wood Thrushes filled the air with their songs, and Ravens croaked warnings as they flew overhead to check out the intruder:

Most of the forest at that point was pine, and some of the trees were numbered. I later learned that the numbered trees would soon be cut for telephone poles:

 I learned from another neighbor that these pines had been planted many decades ago on land that had been depleted by too many years of potato farming:

I heard and saw the owner up ahead as we approached, so I put the dogs on leashes. I got to meet the man, who was mowing his lawn when we arrived. His cottage in the forest has no electricity and was built on an old foundation, probably the home site of the former potato farmers' house:

We talked for a while and the dogs ran and played. He told me what to expect from the dirt lane as I continued, so I soon went on my way. Out behind his cottage he'd planted several fruit trees, with protection against marauding deer:

We continued on the dirt lane, but it was seldom traveled beyond the house, so was less obvious. The owner had said that there were lots of coyotes, enough so that they followed hunters out of the woods with their deer carcasses. He also said there had been quite a number of black bears, though they had not caused any trouble:

All in all, it was a pleasant walk in a beautiful forest:

And the dogs were happy, having lots of fun. We took a side trail for a short distance, but soon turned back toward our original dirt lane, which the owner had said would take us back to the gravel road. Our walk was not over yet, and I'll post Part 2 tomorrow:

Days Mill Road During A Snowstorm - Part 2

I was taking a driving tour of Days Mill Road in Nicholville, New York (see Part 1, yesterday). There were old farmsteads with multiple outbuildings:

There were horses behind that gate in the past when I drove this road. But on this cold, snowy day, I suppose they were inside those barns:

This picturesque, woodsy home was recently sold and I wondered who had bought it:

I passed through both forest lands and farm fields:

Two small barns:

And a rather large old farm house:

Another old barn, set far back off the road and showing no sign that it was being currently used:

This small, green building must surely have been someone's hunting or vacation cottage:

This lovely home set down below the road and at the edge of what appeared to be a precipitous drop-off to the river.:

I was almost to the end of the road, so I concluded my driving tour with one last photo, this one of a house with a wonderful elevated back porch which must have had some great views:

Heath Hill Road, In Dickinson, New York - Part 2

I continued my driving tour of Heath Hill Road (see Part 1, yesterday). The scenery was lovely and couldn't have been more rural:

There were small cottages with outhouses:

Forests:

And partially harvested corn fields, backed up by woodlands:

There were Winterberry Hollies along the edges of the road, brightening up the landscape with their scarlet fruit:

Rain was approaching and the hardwoods looked mysterious with their bare limbs in the air and their feet beneath a carpet of brassy leaves:

This home looked bundled up for winter and a dog barked at me as I snapped the photo:

I passed a field of corn stubble, with another farm set down in an adjoining valley and mountains off in the distance:

As I neared the highway, I snapped a picture of these Aspens with their yellow leaves:

At the end of Heath Hill Road, I turned onto the small highway toward home and took one last photo of this old, abandoned farm house. How could I not? It set me to wondering of its history, the families who had farmed there and the hardy spirit of this area:

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:

White Hill Road - Part 3

White Hill Road began in the town of Parishville and seemed to cross the line into Hopkinton as I drove. At any rate, it was surely scenic, both in terms of the forest scenery and the summer cottages which were numerous and set back into the trees. This place was covered with Adirondack siding:

More Adirondack siding and a screened front porch:

Perched on the side of a hill, this cabin had a nice view:

This was another home which seemed to be a year 'round residence:

A bright red steel roof:

And off to the side of the above house, behind a pine tree, was this totem pole. I loved it!:

This little camp was for sale. I checked its price when I got home and found that it had only .2 acres of land and they were asking #19,900. I thought that was a little steep, but then maybe that's why it hadn't been sold:

And the state forest land all along the road was beautiful:

Another bustling place with bicycles, lounge chairs and signs of activity. Perhaps this was a permanent residence or perhaps the family was just spending the weekend here:

I passed by scenic wetlands:

And this cute little cabin:

This place was much bigger than most, and had what appeared to be an elevated porch surrounding the entire building. I took White Hill Road all the way to Joe Indian Pond, where I found many more cottages around a scenic lake. But I'd taken enough pictures for one day. So I put my camera away and turned back toward home: