By Vincent

The calling starts mid-March..the longing to head to the Northern Woods, deep in the Adirondacks starts to attack my innards…waiting on mother nature to melt away the 60 inches of ice and snow that cover a dirt logging road and as she does she dry’s the land hard enough to walk or drive my vehicle over…

Once she gives the all okay I blow off work on a Thursday, pack my truck with essentials that were removed the previous December…items that could freeze and burst…I left behind to endure the frigid subzero temperatures would only create a nice gooey surprise of a mess…it only takes one time to experience and one will/should learn the lesson…I was smart enough to not just listen but to hear that advice from a very wise ol man…

I head east to the Taconic Parkway and at Hopewell Junction turn North as my journey starts with the windows in my pick-up rolled down, breeze blowing by…sun set high…more windows rolled down…wind fills my small truck…I got my black wide brim gambler hat on, dark sunglasses on…Amos Lee taking over the road noise…both hands on the wheel…

A lil sports car pulls up alongside, a pretty woman behind the wheel looks over and smiles at me…I smile and wave—my wedding ring shining in the sunlight…She looks a bit disappointed…still smiles and speeds off…I laugh and crank Amos up louder!

The drive excites me a lil bit more at every 10 miles closer to my happy place.

Off the Taconic I go, me and my truck and tunes meandering along through small Hudson Valley towns complete with corn rows, flowering apple orchards, small streams, an occasional gas station general store, cemetery and a church or two…

Eventually back onto an interstate heading west…speeding semi’s, people gliding in and out driving their vehicles like weapons…I breathe, stay calm with the windows down…eventually the sign says Route 30 Amsterdam 2 miles…my heart skips, excitement fills my being…

North on Rt 30 through Amsterdam, a main drag complete with Starbucks, Tractor Supply, fast food, car dealers, sports shops, the local adult store complete with peep shows, gas stations serving food, small engine repairs and pretty much anything else one could need…Even a health food shop which doesn’t seem to fit the roadside décor!

I stop to get fuel and a bathroom and a snack…back in my truck Alan Jackson takes over the sound in the truck as I travel further north with the windows rolled down…

At that stop light a man with a John Deere hat stands waiting to cross the road, he looks at me, hears Alan singing away complete with steel guitar. He smiles, raises his hand and gives me an enthusiastic thumbs up as he passes in front of my hood…

He’s older and walks kinda like a monkey through the woods…slight bow legs, most likely sore hips from so many years of hard work, arms swinging slightly as he steps up to the other sidewalk. Turns and sends another thumbs up as the light turns green and I blast off!!

The road traffic begins to thin; houses and businesses disappear in the rear-view mirror like villains in the fog of a horror movie…Mountains and pines rise up in front of me on both sides of the two-lane road…speed limit 55…not for me though…I know the hiding places of the SHP…

Sacandaga River wide and flowing along on my left…I can see results of the raging river last month as Moma melted away the ice and snow and the waters flowed to the river eventually to the lake and the Mohawk and eventually to the sea…

The mountains and trees calling me back like an ol steam train pulling into the station calling “climb on and lets go!”

Eventually as my small truck climbs the road ahead of me…no buildings, no stores, no businesses, no cell service…only Alan on Spotify and me with the windows rolled down…

I approach a sign that says “Boat Wash Free” and it is then I know I am close to the only town within 25 miles of my destination…Lake Pleasant and Speculator NY…

A few small businesses, a memorial park, ice cream stand, snowmobile/boat shop and Charlie Johns General Store—Last Call—

I pull in, park my truck, leave the windows down…this place is safe…

Inside this general store sits almost anything you could possibly need…a few locals gather after the checkout, conversing and trading stories of the winter experiences and happiness that warmer air blows across the skin rather than -12 air!

Things outside are starting to green up…slightly behind the lower flatland of NY…

People look at me and they know…” flat-lander” among us…but somehow I kinda fit in…the hat, the Carhart jeans, worn t-shirt and flannel shirt sleeves rolled…some smile and say hello…staff always helpful…

Eggs, ice, milk, water, tuna, chips (gotta have that junk food), chicken, beef, some root vegetables, sausage and bacon and maybe some beer or wine…lamp fuel, kerosene for the oil lamp, D batteries and some other staples that replace what was removed back in December…

Checked out, bagged up and out the door…20 mins…

Loaded all the things that needed to be cooled into the Igloo…back in the truck…

Ooops forgot to mail that check…

Stop in front of the post office conveniently right next to Charlie Johns…I get out and the Sheriff comes walking out the door…I recognize him…Deputy Wilts…

He sees me and remembers me…

“Vincent!”

“Deputy!”

We shake hands, ask how we are doing, smile…

“Be safe my friend.”

“Thank you Vincent.”

“Enjoy the camp, good to see you!”

Almost forget to drop the envelope!

Back in the truck onto Rt 30…local houses peppered along the road fade…like a view of a valley from afar in a movie…a town located in the valley…light clusters, houses, businesses…it’s the place people gather and stay…water is there…without water life does not exist…that’s why so many towns and villages are in valleys…

Speculator no longer visible in the mirrors of my truck…gliding along the road passing through swamps and bogs then rising up with vistas and mountains up ahead seeming so close that maybe I could touch them…my arm out the window…all the windows down…

As I round a curve there it is!

Pig Rock!

Sometime long long ago someone saw an outcropping on the side of the road which looked like a pig and decided to paint it…it’s been there ever since and often travelers stop to take selfies!!!

It’s become an attraction but to me it’s my Cairns…I know I’m close, close to turning off from civilization…my road sign!

I smile as I wave to the Pig…the smile stays on my face!

A few more curves, Mason Lake arrives in my vision on my left and then its right in front of me…the sign pointing into the woods…

I turn a hairpin left…the dirt road under my tires, the rocks creating vibrations that make their way to my steering wheel…sometimes I think I’m going to lose some bolts out of my truck!

Some ruts, some minor washouts…dust, puddles of mud…remnants of a blow down here and there and the sign…” Caution logging trucks” …

I’m in Perkins Clearing…

My shoulders settle…

The dirt road narrows and widens as if its breathing as I slowly roll along…dust cloud in the rear-view mirror…

I have to roll the windows up however…it’s blackfly season and I just don’t want to deal with them until I can get my bug spray on!!!

The logging road challenges my truck…parts very rocky from washouts, parts smooth with silt sand washed down the hill, standing water puddles, protruding knuckle boulders embedded in ledge rock, one lane rustic bridges that cross over small streams, outflows from a swamp or bog…

Eventually over the Jessup River…I stop on the bridge, look down…river still high continually draining the hills…fishing should be good behind the eddies and oxygenated tiny rolling falls…

I continue and eventually cross over a crude bridge of sorts that traverses Big Brook…the water we retrieve for drinking, cooking and bathing…

Without water there is no life…

I head up the road on the other side and slowly trek along and the familiar tree on the left is my turn…

One friend, the first time I took him there blurted out:
“and he just turns into the woods, knowing EXACTLY where to go!”

Through the car wash I drive my truck…the branches of the trees scrape and plow off the dust of my truck…my wife Nina calls it “the car wash” …hahahahah…

Slowly along on a somewhat short driveway…more like a path with a thick bed of decaying leaves from many many years of fall transitioning to winter finding a resting place to cushion my tires…

Past the outhouse on the right…the arch of the trees above leading me to the spot…

The camp sits there tucked quietly in a clearing…

Massive trees protect it…brown stained, wire on the windows to prevent the inquisitive black bear, the chimney pipe protruding proudly through the roof…a small rustic handmade front door with a stout padlock hanging from its hasp…the small deck built on the ground allowing for quiet contemplation, deep conversation or funny storytelling…

I stop and just take it in…

The sight calms my inner being…almost like a sedative…

Namaste’…

I’m home.

To Be Continued