My beloved Adirondacks

To the editor:

The ADK is a state of mind. When young you want out and when old you want to return.

I have lived in or on the edges for 77 years. My folks ran a bar along the Racquette and I lived over the kitchen. The french fryer would belch smoke and I could hear “please release me” until 2 o’clock in the morning. Fishermen would proudly show us their catch and deer were proudly strapped to the fender.

My first life lessons were given by my dad during walks in the woods. His favorite stream were filled with pink brookies. A frying pan, oil and two beers were all we needed. We ate the small ones bones and all and returned home with our best 10.

My first real job after college was with a computer company in Utica. I was amazed by how much money they removed each month. The juxtaposition of country upbringing and city life was too much so I escaped to graduate school.

With kids of my own I tried to relive my youth. But fishing with my boys was not the same. They wanted to play ball and ride their bikes.

Heading toward retirement I plotted my return to my motherland. Eight acres with a stream was the perfect spot. During years of construction my sweet memories were amended. The excavator stole the top soil. A helper stole my grill. A neighbor was found stealing my gravel. And an electrician recommended by the local hardware store quotes $450 for a small job and when I told him I had build two houses we agreed upon $150.

City people I have found are not much different from country people. If given a chance most look for low hanging fruit. I can still hear my father’s advice, play your cards close to your vest.

I have never met a duck, deer or muskrat I didn’t like. People not so much.

Rick Green

Salisbury Center


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