I wake up, again, to the bump and rumble of logging trucks. It is just past 7 a.m., the sun barely high enough in the sky for its rays to filter through the trees and into my bedroom window. I roll over, frustrated with the reality that another logging truck started my day far earlier than I would have preferred. After negotiating with my alarm clock for approximately 27 minutes of extra half-sleep (hit the snooze button three whole times), I trudge towards the kitchen for some breakfast. I am greeted by my grandfather, whose chipper demeanor only serves to intensify my simmering rage at the logging trucks.
“Trucks woke me up again.” I muttered, reaching for the cheerios.
“I know. It’s amazing how busy they are this year!” My grandfather responded.
“Does the General Store sell ear plugs?” I ask sarcastically.
Logging is a reality of life in the Adirondacks. It is an industry with a paradoxical role in the Park: Logging actively destroys the forests that make the region what it is, but the effects of logging spurred the creation of the Park. After many accounts detailing massive clearcuts of forest and destroyed ecosystems, the State of New York began to establish the Adirondack Park to preserve land from exploitation (National Park Service).
It is midday now, the sun beating overhead, dappling the waves of Lake Pleasant with a shimmering light. I am lounging in a chair on the public beach. Just 15 yards behind me, up the grassy slope, is New York State Route 30. Despite my early start to the day, I cannot fathom taking a nap because every 20 minutes or so, a logging truck, filled with its payload, careens down the road, rousing me from whatever brief rest I might be able to get.
Logging in Speculator today looks a lot different from the clear-cuttings and huge slashes of the 19th and early 20th centuries. Logging as a whole has shrunk in the Park. International Paper, the company that owns a huge tree farm tract north of Speculator, sold off the majority of their land holdings in the Adirondacks in the early 2000s. In 2005, International Paper also gave an easement to the State of New York, establishing the Speculator Tree Farm Conservation Easement Area, which I hike and canoe in the summer (NYS Dept. of Conservation). They still clear trees from their land near Speculator, but I have noticed that the frequency in which logging trucks pass has decreased recently.
The sun is just descending below the mountains surrounding Speculator, signaling the arrival of perhaps the only nuisance in the Adirondacks worse than logging trucks: mosquitoes. Despite this, I am outside, toiling over the grill, flipping hamburgers and hotdogs. It’s getting cooler now, but the heat from the grill is keeping me warm. I step back and take a deep breath and savor the day. I am incredibly fortunate to spend time in such a beautiful place, and have family to enjoy it with. As I stack the burgers on a plate to bring inside, I hear the same bump and rumble of a logging truck that began my day. Right on schedule.
Works Cited
National Park Service. “Adirondacks: Lumber Industry and Forest Conservation (U.S. National Park Service).” Www.nps.gov, National Parks Service U.S. Department of the Interior, 21 Nov. 2018, www.nps.gov/articles/adirondacks-lumber-industry-forest-conservation.htm.
“Speculator Tree Farm and Perkins Clearing – IRMP – NYS Dept. Of Environmental Conservation.” Www.dec.ny.gov, New York State Department of Environmental Conservation, 2006, www.dec.ny.gov/lands/113354.html.
I loved the way you wrote your post! This reminds me of summer days in the catskills with family friends. That feeling of simply being within your environment is often hard to come by and really makes you appreciate and love the lakes, the trees and everything else. It is also really cool how you brought together the driving of the logging trucks with your serene environment.
Couple of things to share. First, the writing in this post absolutely slaps (that means “is super good” in New Hampshirite). I felt like I was reading a Roald Dahl novel – I was absolutely transported to your grandfather’s house and your summer vibes. Chapeau, mate (that’s french/british/cycling for “great job, friend”). Second, it’s interesting to detect the note of optimism in your grandfather’s voice, I’m guessing (correct me if I’m wrong) that high logging years have tended to be better for his local economy and thus the people that he cares about. It’s intriguing to think about logging trucks “careening” down roads – I wonder about the safety regulations (if any) that may exist, and I think it’d be interesting to check out accident data involving logging trucks.