These 110 posts have been recycled several times. I will no longer post them on a daily basis. However, I will leave them here as an archive. The title of each post will have the numbers removed and the “By Tahauwus” removed.
It has been a pleasure building this blog and even more of a pleasure knowing that so many people enjoyed them.
Thank you for your loyalty and daily visits.
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© Copyright of Waldo Tomosky
Peeling the Bark off Hemlock Trees
Look at this devastation. I hope it does not come to this in the Adirondacks. This occurred down in the Katskill Mountains; Prattsville I am told.
You can see the ambitious production of these men. Yet they were only following the direction of their ambitious boss Zadock Pratt.
Zadock Pratt
When I ask visitors that come to my cabin about this Zadock Pratt they tell me that he was an ambitious man who buried himself in work after his wife died. He built factories and churches and even became involved with Jason “Jay” Gould the railroad robber barron.
Pratt had built a large tannery in Prattville about 100 miles south of here. I don’t think there was a virgin hemlock tree remaining for twenty miles around by time Pratt was done.
He used the hemlock bark to tan leather. I have no idea if he ever used the rest of the tree or just left it laying there.
Before he was finished he had built a tannery, a church and an academy – - - not to mention the town named after him. Oh yes, I guess I already said that.
He also had a traveling stone cutter make reliefs of him and his ideals on the cliffs of Prattville. Old Zadock will be in that stone for a long time.
Pratt went on to become a congressman in the federal government and had something to do with the bureau of statistics. Pratt loved statistics.
Prattville was not far from Roxbury. Eventually he met up with Jay Gould who was a much younger, and much more ambitious than Pratt; but not in a good way.
Jason “Jay” Gould
They built another tannery together in Gouldsboro way down in Pennsylvania.
So you can imagine what devastation was heaped upon Pennsylvania’s hemlocks as well.
Eventually Gould bought out Pratt’s share of the new tannery.
Gould became involved in several “deals” involving railroads, gold and dirty politics. Much too involved for me – - - who has always lived in the forest. I never did get the drift of all this; other than it was no good.
Gould even attempted to steal another man’s railroad. I don’t have any idea how you go about stealing a railroad line.
I hope to never even think about such things.
The attempt went from financial chicanery to physical violence. Gould hired a bunch of men to take over a tunnel on the railroad line. That was down near Binghamton. There was a train crash and fighting with clubs and fists. Eventually the governor had to send in the militia.
That happened not too long after the civil war ended.
So you can see from our little discussion as to why I am glad that Pratt’s vision of hemlock murder never came up this way.
I could never figure out why.
Maybe I should not even voice such a thing.
Would you like a cup of tea? Maybe I can find a few more pictures or pages from a book for you to see.
© Copyright of Waldo Tomosky
There are plenty of pictures that I could show you today. But none of them would depict how I feel about the place that I was named for. My mother was Abenaki. I was called Tahauwas. My father’s nickname was Chinamasad; “Little Fisherman”, because my mother thought that was all he wanted to do.
You have diligently visited my cabin day after day. We have had several nice conversations. And we had fun looking at all those pictures that sleep in my tin tea cabinet. That tea cabinet was a good thing to use. I am glad I found it before the mice ripped my pictures to shreds.
But even with all that I can not speak the way that Hammond did. So I will simply let Hammond speak. When you get through with his introduction to the Adirondacks you will see why I must step aside.
Hammond on the Adirondacks
And there you have it. These North Woods are what they are. Hammond captures it best.
However, even you could do better than Hammond.
Not in words, but in a spiritual way.
How is it that our hearts can describe something that our heads can not?
© Copyright of Waldo Tomosky
Remember all those nice big monstrous looking Adirondack Lodges that we looked at last week? And all the fancy people with their bowler hats and parasols?
Let’s look at the other side of the same coin today.
A coin is a coin – - – and an Adirondack visitor is an Adirondack visitor. It seems as though whether a man has money – - – or not – - – he wants his resting place to reflect the Adirondacks.
Or maybe he wants his place to look like he is a rich fellow.
Or maybe his wife took over his camp.
Look at that photo. Spruce boughs hanging from the eaves. Boughs covering a chair. Decorative ferns on either side. Is that a vase on the back wall? By God it is!
For some reason they felt a need to post a sign on the back wall; “PRIVATE CAMP.”
No self-respecting North Woodsman would ever get caught in a fancy lean-to like this.
And this is not just a simple lean-to. The size of those logs would support a real lodge.
I hope that you don’t mind if we look at a couple of photos that we have looked at before.
Now this is a lean-to. Just a couple of poles hastily cut from the forest. Then a sufficient number of boughs thrown over the top and woven into the sides. An old log or stump will make do for a chair. And a more substantial stump for a table. One oil lamp, a fire, four friends and a deck of cards make up a camp – - – and a real one at that.
And then there is this. What can I say about this? Why don’t you tell me. You’re the one who asked to visit and look at my old camp pictures.
Golden Beach? You think this is Golden Beach on Raquette Lake? HHmmm. Could be. But I don’t see any of those big boulders that lay around on Golden Beach. And I don’t remember a boardwalk on Golden Beach. Maybe I missed something. Haven’t been there in over fifteen years. Yes. It could be Golden Beach but I would feel bad if that is what they have done to it.
Fancy clothes? Yes they are pretty fancy for the Adirondacks. Long dresses, suits, everyone has a hat on – - – except for that fellow way in the back. But then he is the only guy by himself. Maybe he is wondering how he got pulled into all this hub-ub when he could have been fishing.
But you’re missing the main point. What did you ask me to talk about today?
That is right – - – camps. Now look way back in the woods were it is dark.
RIGHT! Those are lean-tos way back there.
What was that?
No – - - I have no idea why anyone would come here from the city to get all dressed up and then spend the night in a lean-to. Some people love the social life. I guess it is more of a city thing than what we are used to. Maybe they like to tell their friends back home that they stayed at an Adirondack camp and got all dressed up and walked by the lake.
What?
Black flies? Yes – - – I guess they would have a hard time explaining all those black flie bites all over them.
Privacy?
No – - - There was no privacy other than a blanket hung from the front eave.
I think the fishermen from the city had the best idea.
They would buy a piece of land on a lake and the build a platform tent. See how enclosed it is. They could keep the black flies and mosquitoes out by closing the flaps. And if they lit their pipes the smoke would finish off any militant insects.
One of my last jobs as a carpenter was to build several of these canvas camps. We would purchase sawn wood for the platform. Old Man Loomis from Inlet had a big roll of canvas. We would purchase it from him by the yard.
That was a big roll of canvas. About five feet around. It took a six team sled to haul that roll of canvas from the train station at Old Forge to Loomis’ barn at Inlet. Loomis had to pay the logging company several dollars to use their big sled and horses.
Now I don’t know who built the canvas camps in this picture. But I bet he doesn’t get many more jobs. See how he used logs as the foundation? See how they are tipping already? The owner of that camp is going to come here some spring and find his canvas camp right in the lake.
I always use flat field stone to build the foundation. It’s not as if there isn’t enough field stone around these parts to build a good foundation. Most builders are too quick to finish the job and take no pride in their work.
Now take a look at this camp.
What is that? You don’t remember seeing that before?
Why sure you do. I showed it to you when we were talking about John Leaf and French Louie.
Yes! It is Louie’s cave house. Not much of a lean-to other than that big slab of rock leaned against a mountain.
But then Louie was not an Adirondack visitor.
You will have to speak up. I didn’t get a word you said.
Well – - – you got me on that one. He was a visitor from Quebec – - – but he stayed. He wasn’t one of those city visitors from Boston or New York or Utica or Albany.
And you sure wouldn’t catch him in a suit or with a lady.
And he could howl just like a wolf. Used to scare the hell out of the city “sports” that came here to hunt.
He would sometimes howl on the streets of Speculator on those rare occasions that he visited there.
Well – - – I figure we did another comparison – - – a comparison of fancy lodges and lean-tos.
Didn’t mean to brag about my skill in laying up a foundation but if you don’t have a good foundation you don’t have much.
I guess that is true in life also.
© Copyright of Waldo Tomosky
Because I knew you were coming I got out this old picture of the two men with their prize buck in the canoe. Take a look at those dogs. Aren’t they magnificent? Sometimes you lose a good dog to a deer goring it.
God gave men their minds to use. And what did they use it for? The idea of the canoe.
Now you can’t say that it was just the birch-bark canoe. And you can’t say it was the walrus skinned kayak. Nor can you say it was only the dugout canoe. There are many inventions of this type of boat all over the world. And not at the same time. Some of the inventions must have been hundreds of years apart.
One of those visitors – - – you know – - – the ones that others send to my cabin to hear my old tales and new lies – - -,well, one of those visitors believes that the idea of the canoe has to be equal to the idea of the wheel.
Another visitor had similar thoughts. He believed that men still had intuition in them. You know – - – intuition like a beagle chasing a rabbit. He believed that the thought of the canoe rests inside all of our brains when we are born. It just takes time and a special person to be able to change that intuition into reality.
If that is true – - – which it may very well be – - – then the holder of that brain, and that intuition, also needs to have the skill. He must be able to see the canoe in his mind and be able to use his hands to create it – - – or expand on it like the fellow that came up with this voyaging canoe.
Not many people can do both.
I have found – - – up here in these North Woods – - – that some men can have ideas but are not able to do anything with them.
Other men can’t come up with their own ideas but can build other men’s ideas – - – you know – - – out of wood – - – or stone – - – or clay – - – or iron ore – - – or canvas and wood and nails.
Look, here is a whole book on building a canvas canoe.
Is that what Hammond was talking about in his second book? Heck if I will ever understand all that “born into” or “position of merit” or “nurturing” stuff. Who the hell ever gets nurtured up here in these unforgiving forests. We nurture ourselves or die.
Oh. There I go again on one of those tangents. Sorry, you did not stop at my cabin to hear me rant. You asked me on your last visit tell you stories about canoe hunting and fishing and trapping.
But there are other joys that can be found in a canoe. Do you know what I am talking about?
NO! I am not talking about taking out a sweet smelling girl in a canoe.
What can they do out there on the water? Look pretty and raise their parasols? Chatter away like a chipmunk while you are doing all the work? Interrupting your thoughts while you are trying to read the water for the next fishing trip. NO. That is not what I am talking about.
I am talking about you and a friend getting to some rarely visited places on the Moose River. Or maybe even cutting off of the Moose and going a ways up the Otter.
You know it is not all fun. You have to work at it. Get that canoe through the next set of trees that lay over the creek. Waiting to see that big fishing hole around the next bend – - – or past the next set of impassable trees – - – or dragging the canoe over a large sand bar.
But maybe you have to jump from rock to rock because the creek ends in a pile of boulders.
And you keep on working your way up because you know “There is just bound to be a nice brookie in the next hole.
Then you realize that you have been led on by hope – - – and not by reality.
It dawns on you that this is not much different that chasing one of those sweet smelling parasoled ladies.
And so you call it a day and slide back into the real world in your water chariot.
© Copyright of Waldo Tomosky
Hi. I thought that was you walking up the path to my place. What are you doing out in this cold Adirondack drizzle? Take off your coat and hang it on that chair by the fireplace. It will dry fast there.
You’re not bringing any bad news for me are you? – - – No? – - – Good.
I have some hot water on top of the pot-bellied stove. Let me fix you a hot tea.
What would you like to hear about today?
Oh yes. That is a good thing to talk about on a rainy day.
It makes me feel good to reminisce about the Raquette River. It was one of my favorites. I can’t do much with the Raquette since that logging accident.
Let me get my pack of Raquette stuff out. Yes, there it is. I keep this ribbon tied around it to keep them together. I have a few old photos and engravings. I also have a few photos that visitors have taken and left with me. I even have one of those new postcards. You know – - – the ones all done up in fancy colors.
I don’t know who keeps sending those visitors to my cabin. They like to sit and talk. Eventually they get to asking me about my old etchings and photos. They show me the pictures they have taken and I show them mine. Sometimes we even make a trade. I have plenty of copies of the old ones and since I can’t get around I enjoy having a few new ones to look at.
Sweeny Carry
This photo shows the carry at Sweeny. There are several carries on the Raquette.
The following is a visitor’s photograph. It is one place that I always carried my canoe around.
Look at that white water. Who would attempt to ride these rapids on the Raquette?
Apparently these fellows did. Compare the new photo with the old engraving. The engraving had to originate in the same place. I have often sat here smoking my pipe and looking at the two pictures. There is no doubt in my mind that they are one and the same. Even the old leaning tree is there. Dead now though.
But, once again, I get ahead of myself. I just enjoy those old engravings. Reminds me of good times.
Of course the Raquette River starts out in Raquette Lake. There is a short carry to get to Forked Lake. There are some rapids immediately after Forked Lake. It is a nice ride from there to Long Lake. No current in Long Lake. Lots of paddling.
Then a trip to Tupper Lake puts you in Franklin County. Everything else is in St. Lawrence County except for the last leg which takes you through the Akwesasne Nation which is back in Franklin County.
Some of the villages you may see between Tupper Lake and the Akwesasne Nation are Colton, Hannawa Falls, Potsdam, Norwood, Norfolk and Massena.
Now you have me wandering in my thoughts again. There are some rapids that are absolutely terrifying; when you are in a boat.
If you ever get a chance to get to Massena take some time to ask someone to take you to where the Long Sault rapids are. They are on the St. Lawrence River.
This is an old etching. They must have been thinking about putting a canal in. You know – - – to get around the rapids. This looks like a view from the Canadian side.
And here is a postcard view of it.
I like it when I have old and new pictures of the same thing. It gives me a chance to do a little comparing.
Which brings me back to where we started; The Raquette River.
They say it is almost 150 miles long. They must be counting the lakes too. I like the rivers best. More exciting. Lakeside is good for an overnight stay though.
Now look at this old photo from the bottom of my pile.
That is the canal they dug to get from the Raquette River to Simond’s Pond. What a god-awful mess they left behind. That is the pond way out there in the background.
No, I don’t know when or if they ever cleaned it up. They must have left Simpson’s alone. Did I say “Simpson’s?” Damn memory is starting to cause trouble. I meant Simond’s Pond.
See how nice it looks in this newer photo? Can’t see the canal. Maybe it is still a mess.
Simond Pond by Graham Owen
And then there are the falls along the route as you head downstream towards the St. Lawrence.
And peaceful scenes.
That’s about all I have to say about the Raquette, or the “Racquet.” As you can see some people spell it different.
Look. Here comes the sun. Is your coat dry? We can go for a walk down the path and I can tell you the story about the bear that wanted my food.
I was staying overnight on the edge of Saranac Lake when – - – - – -
© Copyright of Waldo Tomosky
