I’ve always had a fascination with ice! That should come as no surprise as I have lived my entire life here in the Macomb/Hammond,New York area. We experience the full benefits of four seasons of change. Winter brings its share of snow and ice each year. I mentioned it recently in a post. My father remembered a time when ice was harvested for storage. He spoke of it occasionally. There would come a time each winter when the ice of ponds and lakes would reach the desired thickness to harvest. People constructed ice houses where the harvested blocks would be stacked in layers using saw dust to insulate the thermal mass. It was then used during the warmer months in ice boxes as refrigerators and electricity had not become commonplace. We as modern people do not fully appreciate all our ancestors endured as part of their daily routines. It’s a subject worthy of a blog story. Today I tell a different story. Our lives take many turns and sometimes where we find ourselves can be the cause of some serious reflection. Prior to yesterday I had nothing but some rudimentary knowledge of ice harvesting. My father had once pointed out to me a location on Beaver Creek near Dekalb where some Amish were harvesting ice. It’s not very common here in the St. Law. Valley anymore. Fast forward many years.Winter 2019. My girlfriend Jennifer took me to the Saranac Lake Winter Carnival for the first time! Very fun! A parade,food,drinking,and dancing in the local bars. A room at the renovated Hotel Saranac. “Hot Sara” to the locals in reference to some burned out neon lights on it’s roof prior to the renovation.We went cross country skiing at nearby Cascade Ski Center as well. But it was on a walk to the shores of Lake Flower that this story truly began. One that is forged by my fascination with ice! For someone who had lived so long in the north country, I had never spent much time in the Adirondacks during the winter months. A little snowmobiling years ago but that’s about it. It was Jennifer who would introduce me to a walk through an ice palace for the first time! We bundled up and strolled through the ice palace.Took photos and enjoyed the moment! We were talking to a local gentleman when I used the term “ ice castle”.He corrected me immediately! “It’s not called a castle! It’s called a palace!” I was a little taken back as it appeared that I had offended this man! Some research has uncovered that at one point it was referred to as a fortress as well as a palace. Further research has uncovered the origins of the Winter Carnival and some history of ice palace construction. An interesting story of human endeavor and love of community. It dates back to 1896. The first palace was constructed in 1898. The ice palace construction was put out to bid each year to local ice harvesting contractors.It hasn’t been constructed every year since the carnival began I also learned. There are gaps in the timeline. But it’s been a yearly fixture since around the 1950’s. During World War 1,the Great Depression,and World War 2 construction didn’t occur at all. After 1960 the project became a volunteer effort due to cost constraints.This is a point where I think the story truly becomes even more remarkable! That place where local colleges,businesses,and dedicated individuals work together for a huge undertaking!My timeline of Adirondack adventure began to spike in 2018 when Zane and I pursued our high peaks quest in earnest. How ironic I’d meet Jennifer that October. The Adirondacks are a favorite destination of hers! Things began to ramp up! Standing under the sturdy walls of the ice palace in 2019 I began to grow curious about its construction. After spending over 35 years working construction I could appreciate the work that had occurred to construct it. I told Jennifer that one day I’d love to volunteer for the build!January 2020 would find both of us missing Winter Carnival due to surgery recoveries. Then the bad news in autumn 2020 that Winter Carnival would be modified due to the pandemic. The good news was that the palace construction would occur! Volunteers were needed!While staying at a Saranac Airbnb on a work adventure, I got some great intel from the owners. I was added to the volunteer email list and waited for our possible chance to get involved. We followed the weather and progression of the formation of the ice. The construction start date was January 28th we learned. We were unable to volunteer until January 30th. We’d miss some of the build!Cutting ice was the draw for me! Twenty something years ago I had purchased an ice saw from a local junker. I didn’t even know what it’s purpose was until he told me. I just knew I had to have it! I asked him how much to purchase it. I held my breath as I waited for his reply. $30 he said. Sold! I didn’t know if I had gotten a good deal or not but my prize was worth all that to me! It’s the curse of a hoarder, junker! When a piece “speaks” to me I must try to leave with it! Often taken home and stored for some uncertain purpose. I really didn’t think I would ever wish to cut ice but it could make a nice rustic wall piece. Heavy though and super sharp!The ice saw was hanging in my garage in 2012 when the house fire engulfed it. The firemen were able to extinguish the garage fire but it was a total loss. I scoured the charred walls trying to salvage things. I found my ice saw. Black and covered with a greasy ash film. The wooden handle badly burned with an outer layer of charcoal. But still ok it appeared. I gave it a simple cleaning and stuck it in the back of one of my barns. It has set there for over 8 years. I dragged it out last week. Took it home and wire brushed it back to bare metal. Sanded the charred handle and stained it. Built a simple transport guard. Got it packed into the car. Yesterday we were there on the shores of the lake ready to volunteer at 8am. Signed in and put to work. Given some basic training by the experienced volunteers. I asked if I could bring my saw to the ice field. Yes! It became that moment that a hoarder dreams of experiencing! That moment when your prize becomes something more! Would it even work properly? Too dull or ruined by the fire? No! Once I learned the trick of handling it I made cuts until my arms grew weary. The end of the ice field became a goal to reach. The harvest is a team effort. We were invited onto the ice as part of that team. Zane didn’t find the cutting all that interesting so found his niche with the spud crew. Three people striking in unison to free the 2×4 feet blocks out into the leading edge of the open ice field. We had been warned of potential shears from cracks and told what to do if one occurred. It happened suddenly with no warning! Zane was the closest to the open water of the now large float section. A couple yells were all I heard before I realized something was up! It was over quickly! I turned to see Zane and the other two guys leaping from a freed section of sheared ice to the safety of solid surfaces. Close call! Lots of nervous laughs after! A short pause then the return to our task. But I was on alert after that! But proud of Zane! He took his spot and returned to work like nothing had happened! We finished the cutting shortly after and put away the cutting equipment. My ice saw carried from the ice with a new found reverence. In a few short hours I had learned a new skill! As a lover of rural heritage I found positivity and connection to history under the cold but sunny skies of Saranac Lake. I have a connection to our lands in Macomb that time has forged with blood,sweat, and tears. It will never break for time lived there was the beginning of all I would become. Yet an inner voice calls me to the Adirondacks. To call it home for an unknown length of time. Yesterday was more than just hard work and volunteering. It represents something much larger. I must return soon and saw the ice once again before this opportunity falls behind. I can be quoted as saying that “ a person has a finite number of syrup seasons in their life! They should never be missed!”Perhaps it’s true of ice cutting and ice palace construction. We met some truly, great people yesterday!I got an interesting story from one fellow and made a new friend! The citizens of this community radiant warmth and positive energy. I know exactly what I will do when I return. I will stand at the end of the open waters of the ice field we have cleared and face the sun. Listen to the voice that continues to speak softly but louder with each passing season. I will listen for the answers out there. The slush makers who cement the ice palace together desire a certain blend. That perfect mix of snow and water. Life can be compared to that. Spirit energy fuels dreams. Lends strength to decisions. Those moments when you step out and explore. That place where history meets the present. A destination of now. Adventure keeps us young and growing. On the drive home yesterday I told Zane that I am regressing in mental age. Traveling backwards now to a place where we will meet. It’s the boy inside the man who whispers from that inner place. Home can be many places. My heart knows that the Adirondacks will be called home. The seasons of chance are meant to embrace .
Tag Archives: Adirondacks
46 times 2
Christmas Day draws near.A time of year where pensive thoughts seem to take root in my mind more so than usual. It’s tied to the end of the present year. A time of year where happiness and sadness can engage in a tug of war sometimes. I simply acknowledge that today as a part of my journey.MOONTABS is a journey of memories. Dreams and hope. That place where darkness that frightens can enlighten. For we can only see the stars when we step out into the dark of night. Happy moments can become the stars in our night skies. They shine there forever.As this year of many changes,challenges,and decisions winds down I must tally up all that went well. Subtract all that didn’t. I find myself with a solid total on the plus side! For that I know I am truly thankful and blessed!Those who love me made all this possible walking this journey with me!My son Zane recently asked me if I mentioned him in the blog. “Yes!I have!” I replied. I also mentioned that I jumped right into the blog and strangers might find it confusing! I further explained that as part of the evolution of the blog we would introduce the people of my journey under a welcome category. Today I introduce my 16 year old son Zane Alvin James Washburn. My only child. 42 years separate us yet we share a special bond. I could write a post dedicated to him everyday easily!Let’s jump well into his 15th year for now!He received his Adirondack 46er climber number in a letter last week. September 1st he finished his final mountain!I was with him and photographed his happy face!A 46er at age fifteen!His feet had summited all 46 of the ADK high peaks!A goal we set two years ago. One that seemed impossible at times given the ever changing circumstances of life. Stories live within stories of that journey.For his goal was also my goal! I would become a 46er beside him.It was a proud moment for me as we stood soaked and muddy on the summit of Allen Mt. We had begun our adventure in October of 2016. That June a much smaller boy had climbed the “Saranac 6”mountain Ambersand on a dark and rainy day while on our annual camping trip. There would be no views to greet us there. Rolling rain burdened clouds surrounded us in all directions. His happy, excited face foretold of larger destinations! He was hooked!Intrigued by the bare rock surfaces of the small summit.A dream was born then. We’d plan to start hiking the ADK 46 high peaks!Our quest began slowly.Cascade and Porter the first bundle for us.The peak of autumn foliage was our reward that day. School,work,and unforeseen consequences would slow our mission. We’d grab only two more in the autumn of 2017. Another day of rain to greet us. We’d hike regardless.It became our motto of sorts!Make the plans and follow through without question.We were a well matched pair.The mornings belonged to his youthful energy.The afternoons were mine from pacing myself.2018 would find me retired and the hikes ramped up!We’d take a High Peaks workshop class in June to gain knowledge of our quest. We’d hike 13 peaks that summer. Engaging in a tough man challenge between the two of us. Zane was growing and his tenacity would challenge me!His rock scrambling antics amazed me!We were still well matched.Neither winning or losing the challenge.It became a subject that seemed to worry him.Always asking who won the day.I relished the competition but conceded the game. “You are the winner” I told him! “It’s your time to be the leader.Time to accept the responsibility that comes with it!”. I took my place behind him with fatherly pride!That was a priceless reward!2018 was full of happy memories!Camping.Planning hikes while driving.Sharing in favorite moments.My boy continued to grow in so many ways.As did I.We began 2019 with a goal of peaks to summit. More camping.More weather. More driving. Zane now firmly the leader. His approach to hiking tenacious as never before. I would accept the role of follower but would push him hard.We set new personal peak bagging records. I’d learn to enter a mental state that would enable me to go that extra mile somehow. Zane would patiently wait for me to catch up many times. But he’d learn not to underestimate my own tenacity.Our bonds were strengthened on those mountain trails. We’d finish 2019 ahead of our goal.16 peaks completed by October. Christmas Day 2019 would find me in the hospital in Vermont awaiting surgery. Broken and in pain from my own carelessness riding a horse. My trail tested son had manned up that December 23rd afternoon.Faced his fears and got me into the truck.Another story within a story. In my hospital bed unable to walk I would face sleepless nights there alone. Haunted by fear.Would I even be Zane’s hiking companion to reach our goal?Fast forward. My challenge to overcome my injury is a different story. June 2020 plans for the final 13 were made but questionable. A test hike to Ambersand Mt. A 5.4 miles round trip that I struggled to complete.Time to reboot the plans. We’d need to camp the backcountry for any chance of success. Miles were my adversary now. We’d shoulder the heaviest packs we’d ever carried. Zane would wait for me patiently on the trail.He’d take his role as leader into the camp site. Setting things up. Helping filter our water. Offering encouragement when he knew that I was tapped. I’d fail him for the first time on the trail.Tap out in a col below Seward forcing a stop for the night.It was a rough night! Nicknamed Hell Camp we hit the tent before dark. Yet another story within the story. We survived that first backcountry trip with the four Seward Range mountains part of our total.A Saturday day trip to Santanoni Mt. would bring me to a mental state I call the Zombie walk. Success once again. A second backcountry trip would finish the Santanoni’s.The next backcountry trip would see us in the Great range cleaning up the remaining few mountains there. Gray would bring us to number 45. We were close!Not just in mountain peaks but as father and son. I’d leave for Pennslyvania for a work adventure to raise funds for my writing plans soon after. I’d return home to hike that final peak with Zane. It was an epic journey!One a short blog post can’t even begin to describe!So now you have been introduced to Zane!Yes in a more recent sense but that was my intention.There are many lessons here in this quest for the ADK 46. My son who has become my teacher in a full circle journey that continues! The words that wait on summits yet to hike! I am very proud of my son! His love of adventure and nature will continue to push me! As we drove home from our final mountain I asked him what he thought his most successful accomplish in life was to date. “Becoming a 46er Dad!”he replied. “Want to hear mine?” I asked. “You are my greatest accomplishment!” I replied as I fought back tears. Pondering your answer to that question is where I leave you today.