The Rattlesnake Hill Wildlife Management Area is a 5,100 acre upland tract, situated approximately eight miles west of Dansville, New York. Roughly two-thirds of the area lies in southern Livingston County, while the remaining third lies in northern Allegany County. The tract was purchased in the 1930’s under the Federal Resettlement Administration and is one of several such areas turned over to DEC for development as a wildlife management area.
The area is appropriately named after the Timber Rattlesnake, which may be occasionally found in the more remote sections of the “Hill”.
The area offers an interesting blend of upland habitats such as mature woodland, overgrown fields, conifer plantations, old growth apple orchards and open meadows.
The area is inhabited by a variety of game species and is open to public hunting. The white-tailed deer, wild turkey, ruffed grouse, grey squirrel, cottontail rabbit and woodcock are found on the area. An occasional snowshoe hare may be observed adjacent to thick creek bottom brush or conifer plantation habitats.
A number of small marsh units have been developed and provide limited hunting for waterfowl. Some of the area’s furbearing species such as mink, beaver and raccoon may be occasionally viewed at these marsh units.
I was reading Walden, by Henry David Thoreau and this passage, written in 1854 — 166 years ago — seem capture the world we live in overflowing with crap churned out by the factories, at least in redneck land where you can still burn things. I tell you, when I own my own land, purges will be fiery ….
My furniture, part of which I made myself, and the rest cost me nothing of which I have not rendered an account, consisted of a bed, a table, a desk, three chairs, a looking-glass three inches in diameter, a pair of tongs and andirons, a kettle, a skillet, and a frying-pan, a dipper, a wash-bowl, two knives and forks, three plates, one cup, one spoon, a jug for oil, a jug for molasses, and a japanned lamp. None is so poor that he need sit on a pumpkin. That is shiftlessness. There is a plenty of such chairs as I like best in the village garrets to be had for taking them away. Furniture! Thank God, I can sit and I can stand without the aid of a furniture warehouse. What man but a philosopher would not be ashamed to see his furniture packed in a cart and going up country exposed to the light of heaven and the eyes of men, a beggarly account of empty boxes? That is Spaulding’s furniture. I could never tell from inspecting such a load whether it belonged to a so called rich man or a poor one; the owner always seemed poverty-stricken. Indeed, the more you have of such things the poorer you are. Each load looks as if it contained the contents of a dozen shanties; and if one shanty is poor, this is a dozen times as poor. Pray, for what do we move ever but to get rid of our furniture, our exuvi?; at last to go from this world to another newly furnished, and leave this to be burned? It is the same as if all these traps were buckled to a man’s belt, and he could not move over the rough country where our lines are cast without dragging them,—dragging his trap. He was a lucky fox that left his tail in the trap. The muskrat will gnaw his third leg off to be free. No wonder man has lost his elasticity. How often he is at a dead set! “Sir, if I may be so bold, what do you mean by a dead set?” If you are a seer, whenever you meet a man you will see all that he owns, ay, and much that he pretends to disown, behind him, even to his kitchen furniture and all the trumpery which he saves and will not burn, and he will appear to be harnessed to it and making what headway he can. I think that the man is at a dead set who has got through a knot hole or gateway where his sledge load of furniture cannot follow him. I cannot but feel compassion when I hear some trig, compact-looking man, seemingly free, all girded and ready, speak of his “furniture,” as whether it is insured or not. “But what shall I do with my furniture?” My gay butterfly is entangled in a spider’s web then. Even those who seem for a long while not to have any, if you inquire more narrowly you will find have some stored in somebody’s barn. I look upon England to-day as an old gentleman who is travelling with a great deal of baggage, trumpery which has accumulated from long housekeeping, which he has not the courage to burn; great trunk, little trunk, bandbox and bundle. Throw away the first three at least. It would surpass the powers of a well man nowadays to take up his bed and walk, and I should certainly advise a sick one to lay down his bed and run. When I have met an immigrant tottering under a bundle which contained his all—looking like an enormous wen which had grown out of the nape of his neck—I have pitied him, not because that was his all, but because he had all that to carry. If I have got to drag my trap, I will take care that it be a light one and do not nip me in a vital part. But perchance it would be wisest never to put one’s paw into it.
I would observe, by the way, that it costs me nothing for curtains, for I have no gazers to shut out but the sun and moon, and I am willing that they should look in. The moon will not sour milk nor taint meat of mine, nor will the sun injure my furniture or fade my carpet, and if he is sometimes too warm a friend, I find it still better economy to retreat behind some curtain which nature has provided, than to add a single item to the details of housekeeping. A lady once offered me a mat, but as I had no room to spare within the house, nor time to spare within or without to shake it, I declined it, preferring to wipe my feet on the sod before my door. It is best to avoid the beginnings of evil.
Not long since I was present at the auction of a deacon’s effects, for his life had not been ineffectual:—
“The evil that men do lives after them.”
As usual, a great proportion was trumpery which had begun to accumulate in his father’s day. Among the rest was a dried tapeworm. And now, after lying half a century in his garret and other dust holes, these things were not burned; instead of a bonfire, or purifying destruction of them, there was an auction, or increasing of them. The neighbors eagerly collected to view them, bought them all, and carefully transported them to their garrets and dust holes, to lie there till their estates are settled, when they will start again. When a man dies he kicks the dust.
The customs of some savage nations might, perchance, be profitably imitated by us, for they at least go through the semblance of casting their slough annually; they have the idea of the thing, whether they have the reality or not. Would it not be well if we were to celebrate such a “busk,” or “feast of first fruits,” as Bartram describes to have been the custom of the Mucclasse Indians? “When a town celebrates the busk,” says he, “having previously provided themselves with new clothes, new pots, pans, and other household utensils and furniture, they collect all their worn out clothes and other despicable things, sweep and cleanse their houses, squares, and the whole town of their filth, which with all the remaining grain and other old provisions they cast together into one common heap, and consume it with fire. After having taken medicine, and fasted for three days, all the fire in the town is extinguished. During this fast they abstain from the gratification of every appetite and passion whatever. A general amnesty is proclaimed; all malefactors may return to their town.—”
“On the fourth morning, the high priest, by rubbing dry wood together, produces new fire in the public square, from whence every habitation in the town is supplied with the new and pure flame.”
They then feast on the new corn and fruits, and dance and sing for three days, “and the four following days they receive visits and rejoice with their friends from neighboring towns who have in like manner purified and prepared themselves.”
The Mexicans also practised a similar purification at the end of every fifty-two years, in the belief that it was time for the world to come to an end.
I have scarcely heard of a truer sacrament, that is, as the dictionary defines it, “outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace,” than this, and I have no doubt that they were originally inspired directly from Heaven to do thus, though they have no biblical record of the revelation.
As I continue to look at properties that is a question that remains top of mind.
I have a really two things that remain top priority – wood heat and land that is largely unrestricted for ordinary rural things like homesteading and bonfires. If I’m not going to be traveling and spending time in the wilderness, I want to be able to have fires all the time and not be cold in the winter. I’m tired of freezing my ass off all winter in my apartment but I’m also not interested in making the fossil fuel companies and richer. I don’t want neighbors nearby bitching me out or calling the jack booted thugs because I’m making a little bit of smoke, I’m butchering an animal for meat, livestock smells like livestock or something in my yard isn’t there idea of pretty. I’d love to produce more of my own food and get away from all this packaging and put as much of the fertility from food scraps and manure back into my own land.
I really hate fancy yuppie looking shit, I’d much rather have things that are practical and serve my needs. Ideally the house I own would be as small and simple as possible so I don’t accumulate stuff. A single room with a stove, utility sink, small table, rocking chair, and a bed. Maybe a small bathroom and shower, mostly for compliance with health department regulations, as I’m more than fine with an outhouse and an heated outdoor shower even in the winter for a sauna like experience. Cold is fine if the shower is hot and you can retreat to warm cabin. I’d like to be fully off grid with small solar too but that adds another layer of complexity to finding the right property and getting all relevant government approvals.
And obviously I have to be with 30 miles or 45 minutes of where I work in Menands. That alone is a big constraint, but I need my good paying job to pay for life, especially now that I’m the director and my team depends on me. While a lot can change in the coming weeks and even years, I believe my position is likely to be my final position in the company but if I work hard and deliver results to my clients, the company will continue to provide for my needs.
The thing is so many of the houses and properties that I’ve looked at have involved compromises, many too far from where I work. I am continuing to evaluate both what’s on the market and might be abandoned or the owner would be willing to sell and obtainable – along with land and having a small and emphasize simple cabin built to my specifications. Yet I have a lot of reservations about developing previously wild lands, even if I rip out invasive species and emphasize native species and livestock that work with the land rather than against it. That’s why I would much prefer to restore an existing property, especially one that has been damaged through dumping, abandonment, invasive species or excessive grazing and tillage.
Exploring the lesser-traveled back roads and backcountry of Schoharie County reveals a host of hidden camping gems, perfect for those seeking a tranquil woods experience. This guide assists in pinpointing these sites, most of which are accessible by vehicle, suitable for tents or smaller camper units. While some roads can be rugged and seasonally accessible, a pre-trip exploration is recommended to ensure a smooth and enjoyable extended stay amidst the natural surroundings.
One of the challenges is to find places where the Long Path leaves the public roads. Using OpenStreetMap data I created a line intersection of the Long Path against public roads, then with some hand editing made sure only to include off-road trail sections when they meet public roads. Then I ran it against the state’s reverse geocoding service to add street addresses so you can use it with your phone or car GPS.
One of the things I don’t like about America is how it’s democracy is vaulted and talked about in lofty terms, but in reality exists far less then what people suggest with the language they use. In America, we talk about our government doing “the people’s business”, government workers being “public service” and our police and firefighters “serving a noble cause” and our military, “serving a cause greater then themselves”. Criminal cases brought by the government are said to be brought by “the people”, that police are “law enforcement” rather then “state enforcers”.
Most parliamentary systems such as those in Canada and Great Britain use a very different, and I would argue more accurate words to describe the state. Laws in parliamentary countries are “enforced by the crown”, properties owned by the government are “owned by the crown”, all power goes through the “crown”. Parks and national forests in parliamentary countries are called “crown lands”. The crown is the king or queen that rules the country, their power limited by the people which at one point in their country’s history got together, revolted, and limited the power of the crown.
Words matter a lot. They help determine how the people view the state and those who are employed by the state. Government power should be viewed skeptically, people should believe that most who are involved in the governing process are primarily there for a paycheck, to help their family, their friends, and maybe the people who are closest to them in their community. Government workers – be it the police, the firefighters, the military, the legislature, or even the health inspectors – are primary there to get paid their salary, succeed in their chosen careers and collect a retirement check in their later years for leisure.
To be sure, every country needs a crown, they need laws and the enforcement of such laws. Democracy plays an important role in creation of the laws, but just because a country has a democratic process and a set of courts with extensive procedure and precedence, does not mean those laws are fair or just. It doesn’t mean your voice or even your community’s voice is heard in the legislative process. There are many ways elections are manipulated in America – from the laws that govern them to favor one party over another – to gerrymandering – to institutional hurdles that make even popular changes by the masses impossible.
A more skeptical view of the state in America, and those who are employed by the state would be better for our country. People should not assume that any particular law is the will of the people, or that laws are a result of a well-reasoned debate, representing popular or even a long-standing opinion of an intellectual elite. Instead, most law making and elections are a messy process, and most enforcement action on behalf of state enforcement agents, is not based on law, but are justified by law.
Committed activists do often succeed in making changes. Democracy can be made fairer, laws can be adjusted to be more representative of the people. Many government workers do a good job. These are all true points. But the worshiping of our democracy through our choice of language to describe the actions of government is really serving no one’s interest.
There is a semi-developed pay campground that consists of many of the islands on Lake George. These campsites are popular with power boats and larger boats that aren’t allowed on smaller wilderness lakes of the Adirondacks. Here is a list of the coordinates and a map of sites below.
I’m tired of people telling me that as soon as you leave the borders of New York State that you literally fall off the edge of the earth – descending into a deep, darkish hell of religious cults, perfectly flat and boring land where you can see curvature of the earth, dark and dingy cities under clouds of black smoke from outdated factories where everybody lives short and brutish lives.
Somehow I just don’t think that’s true from the various trips I’ve taken in Central and Western Pennsylvania, Maryland and West Virginia. Places where you tell about and you get a blank expression on people’s faces. There are likely many fascinating and delightful places in America that aren’t the tourist books, that are charming and unique. Maybe the reason it’s a blank space on the map is not because there is nothing of value there but because the map maker left it off the map intentionally or otherwise.
I should explore some of these places. I feel like my world is too small and the Midwest and Rockies offers a lot too see. I’m tired of everything being just one big suburban subdivision, always hearing just one right view on everything, with everything else being dangerous and wrong. Upstate New York really is very crowded, and while you can get some rural deep country it’s often still tied back into the urban zeitgeist of New York City Metro Area that represents 70% of the state.
Maybe it’s time to board a plane, head for one of the big cities along the Missouri River, rent a car and drive west to the Rockies, heading through Nebraska and South Dakota, taking two lane highways except to bypass the cities. Drive as much as possible each day with a careful eye on the landscape. Visit some parks and national forests, but not make that the sole part of the trip but as an aside. Maybe occasionally stay in motels but also hammock camp or get some shut eye along the road. Maybe find a city of 20,000 to 40,000 that I like the countryside around that is affordable and has low unemployment that I like the vibe. Not for next week but to keep in the back pocket for my future.
