Last week I spent two soul-refreshing days in the quiet and beauty of the Adirondacks. A friend invited me to her place in the North Woods Club, accessible only by a 10 mile long dirt road that gets progressively narrrower and bumpier the closer one gets to one’s destination. Of course there was no cell signal along the road, and I was hoping (at times doubting) that I was on the correct road. Nevertheless, as my car bounced along over stones and rocks, I marveled at the scenery on all sides, from the small scale beauty of a stream gurgling on rocks beside the road to the breathtaking vista of a spruce-lined pond with a backdrop of bluish mountains. I figured that even if I were on the wrong road, it was a fine place to be lost.
Happily I was not lost, and eventually arrived at my friend’s house, already awed by the place and eager to pull out sketchbook and paints. Within minutes I was on the deck, sketching the mountains, while sampling a variety of delicious cheeses and chatting with my friend. As evening drew near, we drove to nearby Mink Pond, loaded up a rowboat with provisions, and rowed across the pond to a fire pit on an island, where we cooked steaks and home fries (and, of course, I sketched). Steaks grilled over a campfire taste better than almost anything else, especially after a long day of travel. Only one party at a time is allowed to sign out a rowboat for a given pond or lake, so we had Mink Pond to ourselves. As I watched the reflections on water and the colors of sunset, I marveled that there was no sound of traffic anywhere around– such a welcome sound of silence.
–Click on photos to see images large enough to read notes–
|Polaris Mountain from the deck of the house
|West Bay of Mink Pond from Mink Island
|Sunset over West Bay of Mink Pond
|Sunrise from my bedroom window
|Looking toward Mud Pond from Prospect Rock
The second day I was there, we drove along a very long, very, very bumpy road (more like a rock-strewn path through the woods) to a more distant lake– Split Rock Lake. There we loaded up rowboats and rowed a fairly long way across to a fire pit and lean-to, where we made a fire and prepared to cook burgers, when suddenly storm clouds appeared across the lake. We quickly doused the fire and rowed back through rain, thankfully making it across before there was any thunder and lightning. I love storms, so once back at the house, I happily sketched cloudy skies.
|Stormy afternoon view of Beaver Mountain
On my final morning visiting, I again woke early enough to watch the sky turn from dull gray to pink-tinted gray, to a full-blown wash of pink, orange, and purple. Both mornings I was there, I heard loons start calling on the lake just as the first hint of color appeared in the clouds.
I departed reluctantly but well-refreshed, having thoroughly enjoyed good time with friends, the splendor of nature, and the quiet of the deep woods.