Summers at the lake
They say you can never go back… I beg to differ. Year after year as a child my summers were spent in Schroon Lake. As I think about the Fourth of July holiday and the hopping summer season, I am thrown back into the carefree days of making innocent summer memories - I can’t wait to introduce my son to these same adventures.
My dad was born in Pottersville, and his family had lived in a house right by the town gazebo when he was a child. They moved away when he was a teenager, but the ties to the area were never broken - I remember as a child being packed up and making the 4- to 6-hour trek up old Route 9, oh how I hated that long car ride, but it always ended exactly the same way.
We would drive into town, passing all the landmarks I had grown to recognize, make a right-hand turn at the gazebo, and lo-and-behold the BEACH! Yes, the ride was instantly forgotten and the bathing suits were put on quickly - a run down the super-long rolling hill to the sand and moments later the chilly water would rush over toes and knees, and then a splashing not-so-graceful freestyle race to the dock would ensue.
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Later, after reluctantly being dragged from the water we would make our way to our temporary home-away-from-home. There are many quaint, rustic lodging options in the area, and for years we stayed at Dun Roamin Cabins which was owned and operated by Rocky and Kitty (Do you remember them? I can’t picture their faces anymore, but I remember they were always so happy to see us and over the years they became great family-friends). My mother always picked Cabin 6 - the one closest to the woods and to my chagrin furthest from the Game Cabin which housed ping pong, horseshoes, board games and puzzles.
It was from Cabin 6 that I heard my first bear tale; my older brother came rushing back to the cabin - breathless and talking fast - he had been across the street fishing in the Schroon River, and there were bear tracks along the shoreline. Later that night, I saw a bear. I swore it. My first bear. At dusk it ambled out of the woods and across the lower lawn as we sat on our front porch - the porch on Cabin 6 - the cabin closest to the woods! I don’t know if I slept at all that night. Visions of bears peering in the screened windows haunted me, and my brother - ten years my senior - may have enjoyed teasing me just a bit too much at that point.
Not many years later, my dad started building his retirement house on property he purchased on Old Sweeney Farm Road. For years, we would camp on his 5 acres: first in tents, then a rough A-Frame, eventually a small one-room cabin, and finally he started building his house. We spent random weekends throughout the year, and many full weeks throughout the summer living on that hill - just 5 miles or so from town - but to a pre-teen, it seemed like hours from that glorious beach.
We started a tradition - it would begin on Fourth of July vacation, and continue throughout the season. My Dad would get up early and putter around camp. I would lounge and read a Trixie Belden mystery or maybe a choose-your-ending adventure, sometimes if I was lucky, there would be a new Archie or Richie Rich Comic Book that I could splurge on at The Towne Store on Main Street which seemed to have everything from food items to slogan t-shirts, propane to beach balls, and the aforementioned book section.
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Fourth of July in Schroon Lake: A Huge Small-Town Celebration in the Adirondacks
Fourth of July was a big deal. We would load up the car for the day and head into town. Our first stop would be breakfast at one of the friendly down-to-earth restaurants on the main drag - usually our choice was Pitkins Restaurant. I remember it was family run and we were always greeted with a smile and coffee for my Dad, chocolate milk for me. A hearty breakfast was paramount for the activities that were to follow.
The Beach. The Beach is what followed. And the Parade. The Beach and the Parade. Fourth of July in Schroon Lake is one of the most vibrant memories I have from my childhood. After breakfast, we would head to The Beach and claim our spot - this was a strategically selected spot that had to incorporate the following characteristics: shade for the hotter part of the day when we would need to cool down post-parade; sunshine for post-swimming warm-up; and, most importantly - a good view of both the Word of Life extravaganza that happened at dusk on the shoreline, and the Fireworks that followed.
After the spot was selected, Dad would settle in with his newspaper and I was off for a swim out to the floating dock and a few hours of time spent making new friends from all over (even Canada!). Afternoon would roll around and that meant a walk up the block to grab a late picnic lunch at the deli and claiming our perfect piece of sidewalk to view the Parade.
I’ve been to (and in) many, many parades in my life. Still, to this day, the Schroon Lake Fourth of July Parade is my favorite. With bands and groups attending from across the North Country, Vermont, and Canada you could feel the excitement of the crowd as they waited in anticipation for each new group to pass. I remember bagpipers, the Shriner clowns, baton twirlers, and kids my own age marching with their scouting troupes. We’d scramble for candy and gum thrown from floats and the firetrucks. But, my favorite, by far, were the drum corps - the bass drum pounding out the beat and keeping everyone in line, everyone’s sticks moving so quickly in unison and keeping the crowds cheering. And, then, when it was over, the crowd would move almost in unison themselves as everyone headed to the beach.
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The day would start to wind down - one more quick dip in the water, and then it was time to get ready for the big finale. You grabbed your playing cards and the best friend you had made earlier in the day and settled down as you waited for the sun to sink over the lake.
The Word of Life singers would take to the stage. Children would start twirling their sparklers, as they created patterns that would hover momentarily in the dusky sky.
Finally a hush would descend among the crowd - which by now was picnic blanket to picnic blanket covering every inch of grassy lawn. The first explosion would light up the sky and the crowd would come to life - yells of appreciation, laughter, shouts from children. An awe-inspiring finale of overlapping colors and shapes would bring the day to a close and then, as the exhaustion of a day well-spent descended, goodbyes were said and a trip back up the mountain ensued.
With memories of the day racing through my head, I would do one final scan of the woods - checking for bear - before the crisp mountain air whisked my off into my dreams.
I clearly recall the many Fourth of July celebrations I spent in Schroon Lake. Now, just a short drive from my home, I can’t wait to introduce my family to this special small Adirondack town that boasts an amazingly big Fourth of July celebration. It’s definitely worth the drive. Don’t forget your sparklers and a picnic - and maybe if you’re lucky, at dusk, you’ll spot a bear of your own.
Ready to plan your getaway? There are plenty of summer events left to enjoy! This year make Schroon Lake your Adirondacks basecamp!