FOREST AND STREAM. 
53i 
PRIL 6, I907-] 
Two Days on Lake George. 
hose who are familiar with the charms of 
!. ce George will realize that a two-day cruise 
Id not begin to exhaust its possibilities as a 
■ ising-ground. Doubtless a canoeist could sail 
paddle over its waters for an entire summer 
j iiout properly exploring all of the beautiful 
iks and corners of this charming lake. So it 
. be understood at the start that the cruise 
ted here cannot begin to give a complete 
;j a of the possibilities of Lake George for 
oeists. 
or the benefit of those who have not visited 
lake it may be said that it is about 34 miles 
g. but very narrow; probably the average 
th would not much exceed one mile. There 
over two hundred beautifully wooded islands 
the lake; the water is of the most astonish- 
clearness and purity; the mountains hem in 
water on all sides, affording splendid pano- 
1 las; and though the shores are well popu- 
|| -d, the dwellings have been so inconspicu- 
! fly placed that except in the case of a few 
ages the shores and mountains look almost 
ictly as they did when the first white man 
:ed upon them. 
started from Hulett’s Landing, about the 
Idle of the lake, one bright morning in 
•, itember, in the canoe Mabel—a Vesper model 
ked canoe, fitted with small lateen sails, fold- 
centerboard and drop-rudder, and, of course, 
louble paddle. The sails used are three in 
nber. though only two are used at a time, 
respective areas being 45, 23 and 10 square 
! t. On this occasion the two smaller ones 
1 re set, and the 45ft. sail stowed below the 
:! k—this being possible through the use of 
|| ited spars. In fact, I consider it indispen- 
e to comfort on a canoe cruise that it shall 
possible to put all sails, spars, masts and 
1 ier sailing paraphernalia below deck when it 
: iesired to paddle. 
1 V splendid breeze was blowing straight down 
j m Canada, and as I wished to sail south, it 
s just in my favor. Black Mountain, the 
;hest on the lake, is just south of Hulett’s 
nding; and when I had gotten fairly out into 
lake the steamer Sagamore appeared, mov- 
.; rapidly past the mountain, so of course I 
. i to take its photograph. Just as I released 
: shutter a great foam-tipped wave swelled 
before me, and it occupies a conspicious 
ce in the picture. 
n a tew minutes I passed the Harbor Islands, 
d to have been the scene of a great massacre 
years gone by; then the smaller islands of 
■ Narrows were reached. On many of them 
amed the white tents of campers—for the 
ite of New York has wisely reserved prac- 
ally all of the islands of the lake as forest 
| d, and, while throwing them open to campers, 
j 3 forbidden the building of houses or the fell- 
■' of trees. The picturesqueness of these green 
ands is beyond description, especially with 
1 dr setting of crystal water and background 
1 tree-clad mountains; they must be seen to be 
preciated. 
\ glance at the map will show, almost naid- 
I y of the lake, a peninsula of considerable size 
tending south into the lake for several miles, 
tis is formed by Tongue Mountain and its 
ighbors, and divides the main part of the lake 
>m Northwest Bay, or Ganouskie Bay, as it 
s formerly called. This bay was my objective 
int; but before reaching the point of Tongue 
ountain I stopped for a mid-day dinner on 
- eastern shore of the lake. Here I found a 
autiful glade, with short grass and no under- 
ash, just adjoining a little natural harbor, 
uch sheltered the canoe from the waves raised 
the strong north wind. Two of the photo- 
tphs show the appearance of the place. While 
- canoe rested quietly on the sandy beach, I 
, t the blue-flame oil-stove to work boiling 
rn and making coffee for dinner; and these, 
th fried ham and canned apricots, made a very 
; dsfying meal. 
After dinner the breeze blew stronger than 
er > and I resolved to be cautious in carrying 
il. though my total area was but 33ft. One 
1 the many good points of the lateen sail is 
| it in sailing before the wind (a ticklish point 
in any narrow craft) it is possible, when a 
strong puff comes, to let the mainsail fly com¬ 
pletely around in front of the mast, thus spilling 
the wind. This cannot be done with some of 
the more complicated rigs without danger of 
breaking the metal fastenings. On this occasion 
it was frequently necessary to let the sail fly in 
this way; and before I reached the end of 
Tongue Mountain the puffs were coming with 
such strength that I did not attempt to haul 
in the mainsail, but was very glad to sail on 
with only 10 feet of canvas pulling. This is 
something quite exceptional; for 1 weigh 170 
pounds, the camping outfit about 150 pounds, 
and the canoe itself 100 more; and it might 
seem that 10 sq. ft. of sail would not propel this 
weight at very good speed. But it was plenty 
in the half-gale that blew. 
Once around Tongue Mountain, the breeze 
was partly cut off; but out in the middle of the 
bay it blew strongly, though the waves were 
nothing like they were in the main part of the 
lake, where they have a sweep of many miles. 
I had determined to sail up to the end of 
Northwest Bay and see what kind of a creek 
it is that empties into it; for creeks or other 
tributaries are so few in Lake George as to be 
curiosities. The whole lake is one vast spring, 
which overflows at its northern end and empties 
into Lake Champlain, which in turn sends its 
surplus waters into the St. Lawrence bv way of 
the Richelieu River, thus making a connected 
series of watercourses that was in constant use 
in the early history of the country. 
Of course the wind was now adverse; and 
most of the afternoon was consumed in beat¬ 
ing against it, especially as it was about 2 
o’clock when I entered the bay. At 4:30 I 
landed on a tiny point of land at the extreme 
northern end of the bay, just at the point where 
the creek empties into the lake. The north wind 
still blew down the creek, but its force had 
abated; the mountains lay green and beautiful 
in the background, and little groups of rushes 
border the creek on either hand. The whole 
picture was such a delightful one that I sat 
down just to admire it; but soon it was neces¬ 
sary to begin preparations for the night and 
for supper. 
While putting up the tent (which has only 
one pole, weighs 5 pounds, and can be used 
either on the ground or over the cockpit) sev¬ 
eral fine motor boats passed me, on their way 
up the creek. Some of the occupants spoke 
politely, and smiled in a friendly way at the 
little tent and camping outfit; others merely 
stared. It did not take long to prepare a simple 
supper; and then, pulling the canoe up close 
beside the tent (which on this occasion was 
pitched directly on the ground), I went to sleep. 
Next morning, after breakfast, I paddled up 
the creek for about three-quarters of a mile. 
The channel is from 20 to 50ft. wide, and runs 
between marshes (which are indeed rare about 
Lake George), though on the western side the 
shore is quite high and rocky for some dis¬ 
tance. Turtles, frogs, chipmunks, squirrels and 
birds were much in evidence; and fish could be 
seen darting about, though I did not try to catch 
any of them. The creek winds about so much 
that its course cannot be seen far ahead; and 
before long I turned back, paddled to the lake, 
and started south again. 
One peculiarity of Northwest Bay is the fact 
that it is entirely free from islands, while the 
main part of the lake is dotted thickly with 
them. The water here seems to be very deep 
everywhere, and the winds are much steadier 
than in the lake proper. I had heard and read 
a good deal of the fickleness of the winds on 
Lake George, and a stay there last summer of 
over a month has fully confirmed this. It is a 
splendid if not unequalled lake for paddling, 
rowing, or motor boating; it is well suited to a 
canoe that can be either sailed or paddled; but 
it is no place for a regular sailing yacht. The 
high mountains and numerous islands sadly in¬ 
terfered with the breeze, and it is only occasion¬ 
ally that a strong and steady one blows, then it 
is invariably either up or down the lake. A 
beam wind here is practically unknown, unless 
one is merely crossing the lake. 
It was necessary to paddle all the way back 
to the point of Tongue Mountain (or Montcalm 
Point, as it is sometimes called); and by the 
time this was reached, I was ready for an early 
dinner, so I landed on a tiny island east of the 
point. To one accustomed to cruising on a tidal 
river with muddy shores, it is both a relief and 
a revelation to step ashore on one of the rocky 
islands of Lake George. A few steps take you 
into the shade of beautiful evergreen trees, and 
there, on the soft pine needles, you can pre¬ 
pare your meal as comfortably as if at home— 
especially if you have a blue-flame stove. Ob¬ 
viously, open fires could not be made here. 
On the preceding day there had been a gale 
blowing from the north; but now a good breeze 
sprang up from just the opposite direction. I 
had decided overnight to go as far south on the 
lake as possible in the limited time allotted to 
the cruise; so now I started to beat to wind¬ 
ward again. For some time I was able to carry 
the larger sails, by sitting on the windward 
deck, but shortly after reaching Bolton the wind 
became so strong as to make it necessary to 
reduce sail. When this was done, the little 
canoe jogged along comfortably, with the crew 
below deck, no matter how hard the puffs were. 
When the canoe was turned about, before the 
wind, I saw that the waves were indeed formid¬ 
able. Every few seconds dark streaks sped 
across the lake, as the gusts followed one an¬ 
other in rapid succession; most of the waves 
were breaking, and they rolled in a way that 
meant business. But I had tested the canoe be¬ 
fore in waves, and knew she could stand them. 
She simply picked up her heels and flew for a 
while, passing island after island with a speed 
that was a joy to behold. Occasionally, when an 
unusually large wave would break as she was 
poised on its crest, she would sink deep into 
it. and the water would boil over on the deck, 
amidships, on both sides—something that never 
happens except under there circumstances. But 
that is just where a decked canoe begins to show 
its superiority over the open variety. I found 
once more that 10ft. of sail was quite enough for 
the breeze that was blowing, and with only this 
modest area exposed, Mabel sailed along safely 
until near Rogers Island, which looked like a 
good place for spending the night. Shortly be¬ 
fore reaching the island the rudderhead. which 
had been out of order for some time, gave out 
completely, and it was necessary to paddle to 
the island, where I soon found a good landing 
place. 
Although on the sheltered side of the island, 
the waves on the exposed sides disturbed the 
water here; and I was obliged to unload the 
heavily-laden canoe while it was rising and 
falling alongside the rock I had selected as a 
landing, and occasionally banging heavily 
against it. But in due course the canoe was 
emptied, pulled up on top of the island, the air- 
cushions arranged on its floor as a bed, and the 
tent set up over the cockpit. Then, after a 
hearty supper, which tasted all the better after 
the splashing I had had during the afternoon. 
I turned in, and though the wind howled all 
night through the trees on the island, I slept 
as soundly as if at home. 
In the morning the breeze had died down to 
some extent, but while it was favorable, and 
sufficiently strong for sailing, the disabled rud¬ 
der prevented my taking advantage of it But 
it was only about five miles to the hotel, and 
I enjoy paddling anyway, so with the aid of a 
“spruce breeze,” the canoe forged steadily 
ahead. 
The mist had not yet risen from the mountains 
all about, but as I paddled on it gradually lifted. 
Black Mountain, ofen called the “monarch of 
the lake,” still had its head wreathed in clouds, 
and not until I had almost passed it was it fully 
visible. The cool water and the occasional 
sandy beaches invited me to take a swim, but 
as I wished to reach the hotel before noon, I 
did not stop now. An open paddling canoe 
passed, with two canoeists and a camping out¬ 
fit aboard, and its occupants waved a friendly 
salutation. Then the hotel dock came into view, 
well covered with people waiting for the mail to 
arrive, and, rounding it. the canoe was beached 
in front of the hotel, and a short but delightful 
cruise was over. Percy E. Budlong. 
