In their own words #6 – Raymond G. Hopper

After deriding the expansion and gentrification of most hotels across the Adirondacks, Hopper’s article praises Smith’s Lake because it had remained in its untouched “primordial” state. Hopper feared that railroads would soon penetrate all parts of the forest. As a result, Hopper warned, the wilderness “is fast being brought into narrower limits by a ruthless inevitable march of civilization.” Hopper concluded his article with the urgent and ultimately ironic advice to other sportsmen to “go there!”

Hopper had no way of knowing that by the time his article was published it would already be too late for the general public to go to Smith’s Lake. In early 1891 Dr. Wm. Seward Webb purchased tens of thousands of acres surrounding the upper Beaver River and tightly closed them off to the public [see my post of 10/29/21]. Webb also purchased and demolished both Lamont’s and Muncy’s hotels. The railroad that Hopper feared, cut diagonally across the area. [see my post of 04/27/21]

 

The transcript that follows has been shortened by omitting extended descriptions of deer and black bear hunting using dogs. I have been unable find any personal information about Raymond G. Hopper, except that he was from New York City and that in Sept. 1890 he was on his fourteenth annual camping trip to the Adirondacks. The photograph of Lamont’s Hotel in this post is from the Eighth and Ninth Reports of the Forest, Fish and Game Commission, 1902-1903, facing p. 292, with the caption that the buildings were torn down in 1893. For more details about Lamont’s Smith’s Lake Hotel, see my post of 04/11/21.

Raymond G. Hopper, “Primeval Adirondacks,”

Forest and Stream, June 18, 1891, Vol. 36, #22, pp. 432 – 433. [slightly abridged]

 

Nowadays one hears continually of such Adirondack resorts as Blue Mountain Lake, the Saranacs, Raquette Lake, Schroon Lake, Loon Lake, Keene Valley, Ausable Chasm and Paul Smith’s to the entire exclusion of other points; we note their prominent visitors, their gay dances and high order of tennis tournaments; we catch softly whispered rumors of social matters in advance and are amazed at the quiet consummation there of big deals commercially; in fact the wilderness, once great for its primeval wilds and profusion of game, is fast being brought into narrower limits by a ruthless inevitable march of civilization. Railroads are building or being projected into the darker recesses of the forest, tempted alone by the revenue to be derived from lumbering interest, for passenger receipts would be for years insignificant. Unless arrested at once by wise State legislation the great danger from the woodman’s axe will be beyond reparation. 

 

Beyond the range of civilization, off in the northwestern reserve of the Adirondacks, silently nestles Smith’s Lake. It is sixty miles east of Lowville, half of which distance can be made by water, and there is no great difficulty in transporting necessary baggage, provided one is prepared to pay not inconsiderably for teamsters and thereafter employment of guides. From other directions the lake can be reached, but not so easily as via Lowville. The next most feasible way is from Little Tupper’s Lake, fifteen miles off, by carry and water. Like all the lakes and ponds of the region, Smith’s Lake has many beauties. All around is boundless forest of tall variegated trees, towering unbrokenly to the summits of the surrounding mountains. On three sides these rugged sentinels, like impassible barriers, wall in the lake, while on the other, where the stream from Salmon Lake empties, grasses and pond-lilies grow out for some distance; this spot is much cherished by the deer as a feeding ground. Smith’s Lake is quite irregular in shape, is some four miles each way and is shaped like the letter X; it contains seven islands, and even today upon Pine Island traces are apparent of an old Indian fortress. On the west side of the lake is a sportsman’s lodge, the home for eight months of the year of James LaMont, one of the most fearless of hunters and has good a forest companion as one could find. He is prepared to accommodate about forty persons in an always comfortable but decidedly backwoods manner.

 

Smith’s Lake is nearly the center of a circumference of country not as yet thoroughly explored, consequently it has remained unmarred by the cruel axe. Nearest on the west is Harrington Pond, beyond which are Clear Pond and Bog Lake; on the north are Charlie Pond and the Snell Ponds; on the east, by pushing up an eight-mile stream, one finds Mud Pond, then the Salmon Lakes, and finally Brandreth Lake; only 3 miles away, is grand, silent Albany Lake, six miles in length and conspicuous for its vast deer feeding territory.

. . . 

 

I left the vitiated air of New York behind me on the 20^th of last September, bound on my fourteenth annual trip to those woods. With me were two companions, Charles L. Jacquelin and Felix A. Duffy, of New York, who were by no means unfamiliar with forest ways, while both were good at target and trap, as well as fairly excellent anglers. At Utica we took the Utica & Black River Railroad, and after a two hours’ run arrived at Lowville about 9 A.M. after driving easterly from Lowville twelve miles we entered the forest; then the road was tough enough to jar one’s bones and loosen one’s tongue most savagely. By evening we pulled up at Jim Dunbar’s, having stopped for dinner at Fenton’s. Dunbar’s, the only house at Stillwater, is well-kept and a favorite place to many; there we got our first venison steak and a comfortable lodging.

 

In the morning we engaged two guides – Reu Town and Ed. Dustin, of Long Lake – who by the mere chance happened to have come there with sportsman who they had brought out. It gave me an undreamed-of opportunity of securing two of the best men in the region, men who I had had before, who were familiar with my desires and who I knew could be relied upon in any emergency. They took us twenty-five miles up Beaver River to Munsey’s place at Little Rapids, where a stop was made for dinner, and mighty well cooked and appreciated was it, too. A mile portage, seven miles up Albany Lake, another portage of a mile around more rapids, and we again put into the river; then, two miles more and we glided into Smith’s Lake. What a glorious panorama it was.

 

We duly installed ourselves at LaMont’s, for while there were bark camps at or near the lake, where one with a fire could be cheerful and comfortable; still, we decided to stay with Jim, for by stopping at such a place the guides can always give more time to their men. One should never take more luggage than is absolutely necessary. The guides carry their boats, oars and paddles, so, unless the carries are double-tracked, the remaining duffel must be transported by the sportsman in big pack baskets strapped securely to the back, in which weight never decreases.

. . .

 

Few men sleep late in the forest. The change from the solemn dirge of the night to the gay joyous song of the morning, as note after note peels fourth to welcome the rising day, is too exhilarating to admit of the continuance of slumber. A plunge in the lake relieves the slight lassitude which may hang upon one, and there are those who make such the regular order of the day; on the other hand, the guides say, that there are some persons who visit the woods who never enter the lake at all to bathe because of the coolness of the water, their alleged fear of water reptiles, or some equally absurd pretext. The story is told a prominent Newark lawyer who, when at Smith’s Lake, never washes as much even as his face, lest by temporarily removing a mosquito mixture his beauty and feelings might be hurt. My informant, never having seen our barrister out of the wilderness, and being recently introduced in Newark, was dumbfounded at the change purification revealed, and for a while positively thought him himself the victim of a practical joke.

. . . 

 

There are those people, and properly so, too, who dare not get very far into the Adirondack forest on account of the impossibility of prompt communication in “case of necessity.” Smith’s Lake, notwithstanding its remoteness, has been connected with Lowville and inter-lying points by telephone, thus giving instant intercourse with the outside world, yet bringing it no nearer to the civilization we desire to leave in going there. Mr. Wm. H. Morrison, of Lowville, deserves considerable credit for his enterprise in constructing this line, for it can hardly be looked upon as a paying investment, and possibly was never so thought of. Mr. Morrison is one of Lowville’s prominent merchants, and he is the owner of LaMont’s place at Smith’s Lake where he goes every summer. 

. . .

 

Although not a powerful man in appearance, yet James LaMont is as muscular and wiry as anyone that I have ever known of his build; in fact, he has the reputation of being able to cover more territory in the woods in less time than any one of the guides, no matter what the general conditions may be. Nobody disputes this claim of his friends, for occasional contests show him to be invincible where endurance and forest intelligence count for anything. One is always lucky when Jim will consent to pilot him in search of game. He is particularly entertaining, and the stories of his experiences – and they have been world wide – told in his quaint style, are of rare interest of people. Mr. Edward H. Litchfield, of New York, who hunts in the West nearly every year in the most extensive possible manner, went to Alaska last October, and he having a learned of LaMont’s prowess, sent for him to go as a companion or body guard. Considering the extent of the trip, its expense, and the fine inducements offered to Jim LaMont, Mr. Litchfield paid a high compliment to my Adirondack friend, whom he had never seen until he sent for him. Mrs. LaMont is an educated and superior woman, and with two grown children, assists materially in making the backwoods lodging thoroughly comfortable and interesting. If anyone wishes to communicate with James LaMont, his address is Smith’s Lake, via Lowville. Of course, the mail by necessity is only carried in and out by parties, but during the season is fairly prompt.

 

Reader, go there! You will have a glorious time! When you return you will find yourself to be a wiser, a healthier, and a stronger man than you were before partaking of the hospitalities of that forest primeval.