Ahhh… the Adirondacks :)
I have been recently reminded on several occasions of the glorious beauty of the Adirondack Mountains in my home state of New York. I recollected one of our very first trips up there in the early autumn of 2007. So I was inspired to share with y’all this narrative of our first journey to the Steuben Memorial Site.
As a family, we have enjoyed taking trips to historical sites, state parks, and roadside attractions all over our state, New York. We have all learned many amazing things through our travels, making foundational memories for each of us individually. For me, one of the greatest memories was made at Steuben Memorial State Historic Park in Remsen, in the early autumn of 2007. All day, my Mom had been driving us kids (me, my older sister and two younger brothers) around the gorgeous countryside of the foothills of the Adirondack Mountains. This trip was the fulfillment of a long-time desire to visit these mountains. Until this point, all we kids knew of the mountains was stories from Mom, and pictures and descriptions we had seen and read in books. It was a gorgeous day, with clear skies, brisk weather, and glorious visibility. We had been looking around maps and brochures to find some good place to stop at and explore. My sister, in the front passenger seat, said to my Mom, “Well, there’s Steuben Memorial Park in Remsen.” To us younger children, it sounded like just another small historic house with a grave marker and some historic plaques filled with information that we were sure we already knew. But it was worth a try. After all, we were in the Adirondacks!
We rode along back country roads for a few hours, satisfied just to see the splendor of the isolated villages, farms, and woods. We jokingly remarked to one another to look out for bears and Indians; we might even see Natty Bumpo or Chingachgook! Whenever we lost our way, a sense of thrill filled our hearts; we felt like we were on an adventure, exploring those virgin places of our state which remained undefiled by urban development! Several times Mom had to tell us to quiet down so she could pay attention to driving.
Finally, on the side of an upward-sloped country road, we saw the sign and gate that informed us we had reached our destination. We were stunned at what we saw; certainly the place was nothing like we had conjectured it to be in our minds. Before us lay a vast field, with a small gravel trail going farther than we could see, lined with tree-like shrubs. Excitedly, we jumped out of the car, eager to begin the exploration, but Mom cautioned us to wait, to look around carefully while she snapped photos to document the trip. What I remember at that moment was turning around and suddenly beholding a stunning panorama of the blue Adirondack mountains. The sky was completely open before me; no tall buildings, no telephone poles, not even trees blocked my view of what seemed to be the entire state. The trees in the near distance beamed with majestic green, red, and gold, while the hills in the far distant horizon glowed hazy blue. Right above the mountains, the sky shone golden, growing into a deeper blue higher in the sky. The air was pure and fragrant. Every one of us was overwhelmed by the spectacular view. Finally, we turned once again to the place we had set out to visit. As we walked down the gravel path, and occasionally sidetracked to run and to climb the tree-like shrubs, we began to see in the distance a small weathered cabin. “That must be his cabin,” a few of us commented.
We came across two very friendly older ladies walking their dogs; we all shared how beautiful this place was, and the ladies encouraged us to continue to explore the whole park. By this time, we had gone far enough down the path to see a wide forest of colossal cedar trees. Simply looking to their tops caused us to lose both balance and focus. None of us kids had ever seen anything quite like this in real life. Some of us wanted to go in the woods right away, but our mother exhorted us to take things one step at a time; we had to visit Baron von Steuben’s memorial first. The journey through the deciduous forest in which it lay was like its own little world. Though we were all feeling rambunctious after the long ride, we felt a strangely sacred air as we journeyed down the path, read the historical markers, observed the golden sunshine pouring through the leaves, and heard new bird calls. At last, we came upon a large, fenced-in stone monument. This area of the forest was much darker than the rest, but we managed to make out the dark writing on the stone monument, “Steuben.” The lower half was shaped like the bottom of a pyramid, while the upper half stood straight, resembling a chimney or column. In all, the structure was about as tall as small house. We solemnly discussed the Baron’s great role in helping to obtain American independence. We were reminded again of the immense sacrifice of our forefathers, and I thought especially that if it hadn’t been for them, we might not have been able to discover beautiful places like this.
We walked out again to the open area we had come from. By this time, we had probably been walking the grounds for over half an hour. Now we could enter the forest of the massive cedars, every tree ranging from fifty to sixty feet tall. As we drew closer, we grew oddly uneasy and uncertain; we looked into what must have been an entirely different world. What manifold shades of green there were! We stood bewildered at the edge of the forest and examined the scene that seemed to come out of a mythological book. We bent our necks back to observe the odd shapes of some of the tree limbs. The sound of the gentle breeze rushing through the treetops seemed to whistle an angelic tune. Now we were really wondering if it was a different world. Finally, we plunged ourselves into the woods, and as we stepped onto the soft, mossy earth, and saw the lush ferns, protruding roots, and enormous fallen trees, we were totally captivated. We began to run with great speed farther, deeper, into this enchanted world. Barely intelligible to our distracted minds were Mom’s calls, “Don’t get lost! And don’t trip!” Suddenly, the sound of the breeze blowing the treetops became a thunderous rustling. “How can it be?” I thought, “The skies are clear.” We simultaneously lifted our eyes to the forest canopy, where to our astonishment, fifty feet above us, seven eagles spread their enormous wings and took flight, away from their nests, and as they flew, we heard their distinctive cries. Every one of us was speechless. We had seen and heard an eagle–seven of them–in real life! After a couple of minutes, we got over the thrill and continued in our exploration, walking across fallen trees, collecting moss, pine cones, and leaves, and examining uprooted trees with numerous exclamations and wondrous gasps. When my brothers and I noticed how our voices echoed in this natural cathedral, we commenced to yodel and call each other at the top of our lungs. Every one of us felt a physical strength and freedom we had not known before. We ran, we explored, eager beyond reason to see where the forest ended, what lay on the other side. But at last, we heard Mom’s distant pleas for us to come back; the sun would soon be setting; it was time to go. A horrid despair fell upon us. Leave this place? But–must we return to civilization? We begged to stay longer, but we knew we had to go. Mom promised us we would come back for a longer visit, but for now, we had to be home in time to make dinner for Dad when he returned. So we proceeded back the way we came, though some of us dawdled a little. Of course, our visit was prolonged just a little when we discovered a small apple tree–it grew small apples. Then we had to stop to play with a tiny toad we found under the tree. We took a quick peek into the windows of the cabin we had seen when we first arrived; we could not enter, for its doors were locked. Finally, we made our way down the gravel path by the side of the field. We would never forget this place, and we certainly looked forward to our next visit, though we wondered when that would ever be.
We looked back one more time at this isolated little world of wonder, labeled in the brochures simply as a “memorial,” then we piled into the van to head southward, for home. As we sat down and became silent, I noticed something different inside my chest. I remembered breathing deeply as I gazed upon the valley and as I stood in the cedar forest, but now I realized I did so without the pain I often had in my heart and lungs. Alone in the back seat, I rested my head back and closed my eyes, unable to hold back tears that came from mixed emotions: overwhelming joy at the experience, sorrow to have to leave and return to town life, and gratefulness to God for the relief in my chest. As I contemplated these, I let out another deep breath and looked out the window. Silently, I prayed and thanked God for the good day, the break from the endless schedule and activity of town life. I also asked Him to please let us come back soon. I looked out the window again, smiled, and thought to myself, “Steuben, we shall return!”
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