The Pines

If you're interested in abandoned places, chances are you've seen photos of the abandoned Borscht Belt resorts in the Poconos and the Catskills. David and I had the use of a car recently (not a Zipcar, which has mileage restrictions) and his first suggestion was that we go explore some of the abandoned resorts that I hadn't been able to stop thinking about since I first saw photos of them years ago.

Our first stop was the Summit Resort in the Poconos, but the area was very crowded and appears to be slated for redevelopment. I didn't feel comfortable creeping on a place where people had been known to get arrested, so we moved onto my backup plan, The Buck Hill Inn ... only to find that it has been completely demolished. It was getting late but I still had hopes that we could salvage our day by visiting my third choice, The Pines Resort.

The Pines Resort, located in South Fallsburg, NY, opened in 1933. It's about an hour and a half drive from New York City, in the Catskills region of Upstate New York. The once-popular resort had indoor and outdoor swimming pools, a golf course, ski slopes, an ice skating rink, a theater, a 400-room hotel, tennis courts and card rooms.

Due in part to changing tastes and access to cheaper airfares, the resort business suffered and The Pines closed in 1998. The current owner, The Fallsburg Estates LLC filed for bankruptcy in 2002 and has done little to maintain the property. A lot of the buildings have collapsed roofs or have been reduced to piles of debris. The indoor pool is now an outdoor pool, the staff building burned in 2003 and the day care and staff quarters suffered a similar fate in 2007. 

The most distinctive attraction at The Pines (today, as well as in its heyday) is its kidney-shaped pool. It has a futuristic, swooping cement walkway over the middle and was filled with snow, ice and cattails when we visited. If you love before/afters, Pablo Maurer did a fantastic study of these abandoned resorts with side-by-side comparisons of postcards, matchbooks and archival photos.

Because The Pines is so easily accessible, there isn't much stuff left inside of the buildings to hint at its former glory days. But the one thing The Pines has in spades is chairs. Of course, #theresalwaysachair, but the former dining hall is still filled with tables and piles and piles of chairs—so many that people have turned them into a de facto art installation by poking them into the walls and ceilings. 

The days of exploring these abandoned resorts seem to be coming to an end. Most of them are being actively redeveloped, and I would imagine that The Pines will one day crumble completely. I was surprised to discover that it had been built in the '30s—most of the buildings that we explored seemed stuck in the '70s. I have seen much older buildings in much better condition than the soggy, moldy piles that we found at The Pines, but if you look hard enough you can almost imagine a time when this was the place to be.

Haines Falls Cemetery

Back at the end of September, David and I went camping around the North/South Lake in the Catskills. On the road leading to the campground, I spotted an old church and graveyard and I made sure to bring it up the next day as we were leaving. David knows me well enough by now to know when I begin a sentence with "If we have time..." that I have a stop in mind, and although I usually make empty promises to be quick, this really was a quick stop (at least I thought it was).

The Haines Falls Cemetery is located behind the Kaaterskill United Methodist Church on North Lake Road in Haines Falls, NY. A plaque dedicated by the Haines Family Association mentions five ancestors and their families who "explored, settled and helped develop the mountaintop area beginning in the 1700s. They were a hardy breed: farmers, foresters, tanners, hunters, trappers and homemakers who helped tame this beautiful, but wild land."

I could tell from the road that the graveyard was old and it's small (I found online records for 28 graves) but has some really lovely stones. I love stones covered in lichen and moss, and fallen leaves always help to make any burial ground just a little bit spookier.

At first I didn't see anything too memorable in this cemetery, but then I saw this monument, erected "In memory of those who lost their lives in Twilight Inn Fire, July 14, 1925" and I knew I had to know more about this tragedy. From a NY Times article published on the day of the fire, it's stated that 12 people were confirmed dead and eight were still missing. Eleven of those bodies were charred so badly that identification was impossible. The fire began in the middle of the night, in the servants' wing of the hotel, possibly due to a lighted cigarette. There were so many casualties, it's suspected, because guests scrambled to take their belongings with them as they escaped.

Oh, and this cemetery also had a stone that just simply says "Allie." My full name is Alexandra, but I've been called Allie as long as I can remember, and I've never seen a headstone that hit so close to home. No last name, no birth or death dates, no epitaph, just my name. I don't intend to be buried, or ever have a headstone—and if I did it would hopefully at least have a few skulls on it— but I think it's obvious why I felt the pull of this little cemetery as soon as I saw it.

Sleepy Hollow, 2017

Before I ever moved to New York, I knew I wanted to visit Sleepy Hollow during October. I even put it on my silly list of things to do before I turn 30, and I crushed that goal. I'm now 32 and Sunday was my fourth (mostly) annual trip upstate to the village formerly known as North Tarrytown. 

I'm embarrassed to say that it took me far too long to read The Legend of Sleepy Hollow short story by Washington Irving. I don't know why I waited so long to pick it up—and the story is less than a hundred pages, so it only took me a day to read—but it definitely added to my enjoyment and appreciation of the area.

It might seem silly or pointless to revisit the same tiny town year, after year, but I'm always seeing something new. There is also a comfort to holiday rituals, and as soon as the leaves start to turn and I feel a chill in the air (something woefully missing this year—it was nearly 80 degrees on Sunday), I start looking forward to the fall pilgrimage. This year's group of adventurers included some newcomers, and it's nice to be able to introduce people to Sleepy Hollow and share the places that I've come to love so much. 

This year we spent the bulk of our time visiting two historic houses in the area—Washington Irving's Sunnyside and the Rockefeller estate, Kykuit—so we didn't have a lot of time to wander. We briefly peeked into the cemetery but unfortunately it had already closed for the day, and we ended the night screaming (and laughing) our way through the outdoor haunted maze, Horseman's Hollow. 

I love that the village of Sleepy Hollow has come to embrace their famous legend—the headless horseman is everywhere, showing up on their street signs, police uniforms, fire trucks and school mascots—and I would imagine that locals either absolutely love Halloween, or grow to hate the influx of visitors. Every year I find myself discovering a lovely house with a mansard roof, cornstalks tied to columns or pumpkins on a porch and thinking that it must be the most wonderful place in the world to call home—but living just an hour train ride away isn't too bad either. 

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Places to see: Kykuit // Sunnyside  // Lyndhurst // Union Church // Sleepy Hollow Cemetery

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Thing to do: Horseman's Hollow // The Great Jack-o-Lantern Blaze

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Places to eat: Horsefeathers

Mushrooms

I don't claim to know much about nature—I live in New York City by choice, after all—but I love discovering all of the strange and interesting things that manage to grow unattended in the woods. David and I recently went camping in the Catskills and before settling in for the night took a hike around the North/South lake. I always notice mushrooms because they're usually so adorable, but for some reason they seemed to be everywhere on this particular hike. 

Sometimes I think people assume I know more about nature than I do, just because I grew up in Ohio. Sure, I had to do a leaf-identification project in school, but that doesn't mean I remember much beyond the difference between a maple and a ginko leaf. I do wish I knew more about properly identifying mushrooms—I love mushrooms so it would be pretty cool to be able to pluck part of my dinner right out of the woods. I knew people back in Ohio that swore by certain varieties but I've seen Into the Wild enough times that I'd probably never get to the point where I felt comfortable eating things I just found. 

I have, however, heard of puffballs and we spent a great deal of time poking all of the ones around our campsite. I'm sure this isn't the best way to properly respect the beauty of nature, but it's just too satisfying to resist. It's also impossible to stop once you start, and we joked that we'd return next year to find the campsite closed due to an explosion in the mushroom population.

Denning's Point Brickworks

After exploring the abandoned Reformed Church cemetery on a recent day trip to Beacon, NY, we decided to take a little hike. The weather had cleared up and we weren't ready to drive back to the city just yet, so we headed over to Denning's Point, a NSFW-shaped peninsula that juts out west of Beacon into the Hudson River. The scenery is so beautiful in the Hudson Valley, and the trail (basically a large loop) ended up being longer and more secluded than I had expected. The area is a protected winter habitat for bald eagles, and is closed from December 1st through March 31st. 

Earlier in the day (when our plans to spend hours at Dia: Beacon fell through) I had been searching for attractions near Beacon and had briefly read about the ruins of the Denning's Point Brickworks factory. I didn't expect to see it, let alone run right into it on our hike, but I probably squealed with delight, which is my default reaction to unexpectedly stumbling upon things I love.

Denning's Point Brickworks started operating from the Hudson Valley in 1885, but by 1939 they had exhausted the local clay reserves and the factory closed. The buildings continued to house factories, one that made composite wood/concrete construction panels and another that made paper clips. Manufacturing declined in the area and stopped for good in the 80s—in 1988 New York incorporated the area into the Hudson Highlands State Park. 

In its heyday, Denning's Point Brickworks fired a million bricks a week. DPBW bricks were used in the construction of both the Empire State Building and Rockefeller Center, and you can still find them scattered throughout the trail and along the riverbank. The building isn't too much more than a shell at this point but it was a great surprise and a reminder that some of the best days happen after my original plans fall through.

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Denning's Point Trail: Open April 1st - Nov 30th
Where we parked:
23 Long Dock Rd
Beacon, NY 12508

The trail is also just a short walk from the Beacon Metro North train station.

Muffler Man: BP

Usually, when I say that I don't have plans, I'm lying. I am an obsessive planner by nature. I would never, ever describe myself as "spontaneous," although I'd like to think that I'm still easy-going and not impossibly rigid—as long as everything goes exactly how I imagine it will in my head. I spend countless hours thinking about and planning adventures—big and small—so it's rare that I find myself completely without agenda. 

Our recent day trip upstate to Beacon, NY was somewhat spur-of-the-moment by my usual standards, but I still had some ideas (like the abandoned cemetery). In fact, when I told David that we should take a day trip on a day we both had off work for Passover, I began by saying "should I pretend that I don't already have a trip planned or just tell you where I want to go?" This probably makes me sound bossy and horrible but let's just call me opinionated and organized. 

We had planned to take the Metro North to Beacon, but at the last minute decided that a Zipcar would be only slightly more expensive when split between the two of us. I adore public transportation and train travel more than anyone probably should, but the control-freak in me can't pass up the freedom that comes with having a car—and if I don't have to actually drive it, even better. 

Once it was decided that we would drive, I immediately started thinking of possible stops along the way. Beacon isn't far from the city (about a two-hour drive) but any trip I take is as much about the stops along the way as it is about the final destination. My first thought was an upstate Muffler Man that has been on my radar ever since I researched our first Sleepy Hollow trip, and that meant he was on our way to Beacon as well. 

This Muffler Man (my 13th!) is located in Elmsford, NY at a BP gas station. He looks as if he's been fairly well-maintained, despite the fact that he's missing both of his arms. His left arm looks as if it may have broken off, while his right arm may have been intentionally removed to fit him snugly next to the price sign. His feet are partially buried in the dirt, and he's painted BP yellow and green (even his eyes match!). I'm very grateful to have found a roadtrip partner who not only loves to drive, but who doesn't mind stopping once and while to make new friends. 

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BP Muffler Man
135 N Saw Mill River Rd
Elmsford, NY 10523

Cross-Country Skiing

The weather this winter has been all over the place, and while I am happy that we've had two respectable snowfalls, I do wish we'd had more. Overall it's been pretty warm (but climate change is just fake news, huh?), and two weekends ago temps were in the 50s. It's been way snowier upstate than in the city, and they had a nice base of snow but we knew we had to act fast, so we rented a ZipCar for the day and headed to Lake Minnewaska.

This was only my second time cross-country skiing, but it went much better than my first. I only fell once this time—in a scene akin to Bambi on ice—and I'm in much better physical shape than I was when we went two years ago. In fact, not only did I not feel basically paralyzed the next morning, but I hardly felt as we'd done anything strenuous at all, which is a definite triumph for me.

Lake Minnewaska is about two hours outside of the city, near the town of New Paltz. We rented skiis from a shop in town and I was amazed at how cheap they were—less than $20 for skiis, poles and boots. We did about a seven-mile loop, passing the frozen Rainbow Falls, snow-covered Lake Awosting and stopped for the incredible views around almost every turn. I kept remarking how irresponsible it is to allow people like me strap slippery skiis onto their uncoordinated feet on top of a mountain, but once the terror subsided it turned out to be a perfect day.

Mount Beacon

Most years I feel as if I've petted fall to death before the first snowflake even falls, but this year has felt different. Maybe it's the consistently warm weather or the fact that a lot of the leaves in the city still haven't changed yet, but I haven't felt as immersed in fall this year. I mentioned before that this is probably just a consequence of living in New York City—when we took a hike upstate in Beacon, NY in mid-October fall was already in full swing.

Beacon is about two hours north of the city, on the eastern side of the Hudson River. The Mount Beacon hike that we took was about 2.5 miles total, which doesn't seem that far but it was a tough two miles. Our hikes are usually longer but we had limited time so my dude chose one with maximum impact in a relatively short amount of time. The hike was very steep—it starts out with 200 stairs—but as always, the view from the top was worth it.

Mount Beacon used to be home to an incline railway, which would take passengers up 1,500 ft to a hotel and casino. The incline ceased operations in the late '70s, but you can still see remnants. The casino and hotel have been reduced to their foundations, but I will immediately agree to go on any hike at the mere mention of ruins.

I definitely have something I call "exercise amnesia," meaning that I complain the entire way up (sometimes just in my head, sometimes outloud) and make dramatic claims like "I'm dying." But as soon as we rest for a minute and take in the views, I forget how terrible I felt and I'm ready to do it all over again. There's a specific feeling of accomplishment when you literally climb a mountain that is hard to replicate elsewhere.

Lake George

It's been exactly a year since we went to Lake George, and I'm already feeling nostalgic. I've shared some photos from the mini diner tour we took on the drive up (here and here), the life-changing Magic Forest (including a Snow White exhibit of questionable provenance and many Muffler Men) and the excellent mini-golf scene, but Lake George is packed full of so many additional delights.

We stayed in the cutest little A-frame cottage at the Amber Lantern Motel, proving my theory that any hotel that uses classic plastic key tags (see also the Wiltshire Motel and the Wigwam Village) is an excellent choice. The first morning we ate breakfast at the Prospect Mountain Diner, and we liked it so much that we came back two more times. They had jukeboxes at each table and served a waffle topped with fresh apples that was so good I'm still dreaming about it a year later.

Lake George is located in the Adirondacks region of upstate NY, and our trip wouldn't have been complete without spotting at least one Adirondack chair—luckily they were all over town, including on the porch of our cottage, lined up across from the lake and we even found an oversized one, cementing Lake George as the kitschy summer destination of my dreams.

The area is bursting with vintage roadside charm, from cozy woodland cottages to 60s motels, the neon and signage is top-notch. We had soft-serve cones as big as our heads and cheesesteaks from Martha's Dandee Creme, saw Inside Out at the Glen Drive-In and somehow checked everything off my must-do list in just a few days.

We drove to the top of Mount Prospect, threw skeeballs and tried our luck at the shooting gallery, shopped for souvenirs at Gift World—still using decades-old cloth shopping baskets—visited the Mystery Spot and tried out its bizarre acoustics and drove by one of the last remaining Howard Johnson's restaurants (the horrible reviews scared us away from actually eating there). I said it when we first arrived, but I believe it even more a year later—Lake George is a magical place.

Howe Caverns

Our main roadside destination on our way to Buffalo recently was Howe Caverns, located near Albany and Schenectady in upstate NY. Howe Caverns is the second most visited natural attraction in the state, with Niagara Falls being the first.

Before we went on the tour, we had our fortunes told by Ol' Abner and squished some pennies, so my roadside attraction dreams were already coming true. The didn't have floaty pens in the gift shop, which was unfortunate, but Ol' Abner was a style of fortune-telling machine that I hadn't seen before so I was very happy.

The 90-minute tour takes you 156 feet below ground into a six-million-year old cave system. It's mainly a walking tour, although it does include a short boat ride that felt like a nice bonus. The cave comprises mainly two types of limestone and water in the form of streams, rivers and lakes. Unlike Mammoth Cave, which is basically just a big, gray hole in the ground, there is a huge variety in the type of formations to be found. Howe Caverns looks like what I envision when I think of a cave—stalactites, stalagmites, huge boulders, water deposits that look like glass and even a rock formation called the "Two Witches" (last photo above—can you see them?).

I'm continually in awe at the bizzare things that nature comes up with on its own, and Howe Caverns is filled with them. Formations that take thousands of years to form and couldn't possibly be made any other way but over time are so fascinating to me. Although it might seem cheesy, I loved the rainbow-colored lighting and kitschy "destinations" along the tour (the Chinese Pagoda, the River Styx, the Lake of Venus, Titan’s Temple, the Bridal Altar and the Winding Way).

Speaking of the Bridal Altar, more than 650 weddings have been performed at the cave alongside the glowing calcite heart, and I can't help but love anyone who loves a classic roadside attraction enough to make it a wedding destination.

The Northgate Ruins: Revisited

On Sunday my dude and I decided to return to Cold Spring, a town along the Hudson River about 1.5 hrs north of the city, for a hike. We had been in April and although we've been on a few more hikes since then, I think Cold Spring is my favorite for a few reasons. It's super convenient (the hiking trails are walkable from the Metro North station), relatively cheap, challenging but not impossible and most importantly the trails take you past the ruins of several different structures.

I wrote about the ruins of the old Cornish Estate after our first hike, but I was excited to explore the main house further after realizing that we had missed some things. On our first trip we missed the pool entirely and just glanced at the greenhouse, which are two of my favorite features of the estate. The weather and foliage situation was quite similar to when we went in April and although the bare trees afford great views, I definitely regret not catching the leaves at their peak colors this year.

The fireplaces are definitely a highlight of the estate ruins and help you to visualize how grand the house must have been before it burned down (yikes). There are just enough smaller details like tiles on the fireplaces and inlay tiles on the ground to make me wish I could step back in time and see the house and its furnishings intact.

I'm so glad that we got to take our time and revisit the estate ruins—I feel like I could go back many more times and still find something new each time. It's become a joke now that on every hike we take I say "I bet it's beautiful in the fall," but I'm sure that's true of these ruins—and I'm sure they're magical in the snow, if winter ever decides to show up for real this year we might have to go back.

Sleepy Hollow, 2015

We recently went on our third annual day trip to the village of Sleepy Hollow—formerly known as North Tarrytown—which is located about an hour north of the city in the Hudson River Valley. Although Washington Irving published his classic short story The Legend of Sleepy Hollow in 1820, North Tarrytown didn't officially adopt the name until 1996.

The village is very small, but they definitely embrace its association with Halloween, and have fully adopted the headless horseman as their village mascot. He appears on everything from the street signs to the fire trucks, sanitation vehicles and police badges—even the high school football team is called the Horsemen.

We started off the day by seeing the Chagall and Matisse windows at Union Church, which is located in the picturesque neighborhood of Pocantico Hills, northeast of Sleepy Hollow. Photos aren't allowed inside of the church, but it's definitely worth the trek (we took Uber) to see the incredible glasswork by two insanely-talented artists. The Matisse window is widely believed to be his last work and Union Church is one of only three places in the US to see Chagall glass.

We wandered around taking in—and taking photos with—the festive sights, drank pumpkin beers and hot cider, took a lantern tour of Sleepy Hollow Cemetery, were scared and impressed walking through the creepy Horseman's Hollow and I came away with a floaty pen featuring the headless horseman—this is Halloween.

More Sleepy Hollow: The Great Jack 'O Lantern Blaze | Lyndhurst | Sunnyside + Kykuit | Sleepy Hollow Cemetery

Magic Forest: Animals

In addition to all of the glassy-eyed, nightmare-inducing, not-quite-human inhabitants of the Magic Forest, there are tons of animals—fiberglass, plastic, realistic, fantastical and otherwise—roaming the grounds as well.

While I'm obviously not actually creeped out by anything in the Magic Forest—in fact, I loved it all more than anything—I can objectively see how strange it all is. The people statues were definitely more on the creepy side of things, and while some of the animals skewed toward the macabre, some were downright adorable.

One of the adult rides is a safari, which is basically a trolley pulled very slowly by a noxious-fume-emitting diesel tractor. The ride takes you through a section of the park you can't walk through, and by animals thrown together in scenes that make sense—until they don't. There are jungle animals, dinosaurs, bears, chickens, deer, foxes, pink flamingos and tigers cohabiting, proving that the Magic Forest is indeed a magical land where these creatures all live in harmony.

There are lion-head drinking fountains, hippo-head trash cans, dirty stuffed animals, an animal band, unicorns, poodles and polar bears—all of which are different styles and come from totally different worlds, but work together to create the weird world that I loved so much.

Lake George: Mini Golf

No matter what happens in my life going forward, our Labor Day weekend trip to Lake George will remain one of my favorite trips ever. The entire weekend was perfect—beginning with the diner stops on the way there, everything that followed was magical (not to mention the life-changing Magic Forest). We packed so many things into three days and it was the perfect end to a summer that flew by alarmingly fast. Every activity we did was summery, including not one, but two nights of playing miniature golf.

I can't remember the last time I played mini-golf, but it was probably when I was in Ohio and I was probably not an adult yet. I had almost forgotten how silly and fun it is, and how very bad I am at all sports, mini-golf included. The first night we went to the Around the World/US (18 holes for each) golf course, right across from Lake George. I wanted to see the World's Fair muffler man, which we did, before playing the Around the US course. Aside from some glaring inaccuracies (a Hoover Dam-themed course representing the wrong state), it was a really great course with just the right amount of kitsch and challenge.

In addition to the Bunyan muffler man, they also had a muffler man-esque Native American, a big lobster, the classic windmill, a surfer, Florida orange, Vegas roulette wheel and Colorado Rockies. The 18th hole was a New York subway station—with a real subway bench and a replica train car—that you actually went underground to play. I was unnecessarily excited to do so—considering we both spend a large portion of our lives in actual subway stations—but there was something weird and wonderful about being in one on a mini-golf course upstate.

Our last night in Lake George was spent playing Goony Golf, which we saw as we were driving around town our first day and knew we needed to play. If you have to pick only one mini-golf place in Lake George, I would go with Goony. It was colorful, whimsical and more stylistically cohesive than Around the World, although it was much more crowded.

I loved all of the brightly-colored concrete figures and hand-painted signage. Goony Golf is slightly newer than Around the World, but still has a vintage kitsch appeal in its simplicity and whimsy. My favorite was definitely the Goonysaurs, which we saw from the road, but was even better up-close with its glowing eyes and big bone cane. Even the trash cans were whimsically topped with clown heads. If heaven exists for me, I imagine it can't do much better than to resemble the Magic Forest, with a side of Goony Golf.

Magic Forest: Part One

It's been hard for me to even wrap my head around our recent trip to Lake George, and more importantly our day spent exploring the Magic Forest. Before we even stepped foot into the Magic Forest, I declared it the best day of my life—eating at a vintage diner, with an entire year's anticipation at its peak. That might seem like an over-exaggerated sentiment for a day spent at an amusement park (a week after I turned 30), but I assure you it isn't. It will be hard to explain exactly why I love the Magic Forest so much, but if you know me and my aesthetic, it might make sense.

I found out about the Magic Forest a little over a year ago, when we temporarily became the Griswolds, and drove two hours out of our way just to find that it had closed for the season. I briefly considered walking through the large gaps in the fence, but ultimately my law-abiding nature won out and we left—but I vowed to return as soon as I could, praying that they would reopen the following season.

The Magic Forest opened in 1963 off of Route 9 in Lake George, which is located in the Adirondacks region of upstate New York. It's about a 4.5 hr drive from the city, and there are some lovely diners along the way if you're into that. The park has nineteen children's and four adult rides, plus a magic show, train ride, safari and the only remaining diving horse attraction in the country. The wonderful woman at the ticket counter actually tried to dissuade us from coming in by warning us that the park was most suitable for children 9 and under, but she had no way of knowing that I had dreamed of visiting for the entire past year.

Half of the reviews I read said the Magic Forest was outdated, rundown, creepy and felt unsafe. The other half declared it a classic time-warp—what it lacked in safety procedures and modern-day thrill-rides, it more than made up for in vintage charm. I obviously think the latter, although once I was inside it somehow managed to exceed all of my expectations.

The park feels as if it hasn't changed in almost any way since it opened in the 60s. It's definitely the furthest I've ever felt to actually going back in time. All of the employees seemed as if they had been there for many years, and none of the rides felt at all influenced by modern technology. The four rides that we could ride were a rickety ferris wheel that felt as if it was built from an Erector set, a rollercoaster that I was sure was going to disintegrate with us on it, a train ride through the forest operated by a conductor older than any of my grandparents, and a safari ride that was pulled by a very slow-moving tractor continuously emitting noxious diesel fumes.

We spent more than 4 hours walking around the small park, going inside every building and riding every ride we could. There are tons of fiberglass figures stashed in every corner of the park, including four muffler men, a storybook forest, two Santa Claus's, the world's tallest Uncle Sam and a Snow White attraction with a questionable pedigree. I took approximately 700 photos (I know), all of which I obviously won't share, but there are so many figures to see that I'll be devoting a few posts to all of our spiderweb-covered, glassy-eyed new friends that creeped us out along the way.

We saw Lightning the Diving Horse perform both of his shows—1pm and 4pm—and while I'm aware that the ethics are a bit shaky, I promise you that Lightning didn't appear to be suffering in any way. Diving horse attractions began in the 1880s but declined in popularity after World War II due to animal welfare concerns. Lightning is the son of Rex, the Magic Forest's original diving horse who started diving at the park in 1977. The emcee clearly states that "there is no rider, no prods, no electrical jolts, and no trap doors" and that Lightning dives completely of his own free will.

The ladies at the snack bar were putting together a puzzle in between filling orders; I put a quarter in a prize machine in the arcade, and received no prize and we tried to play ski ball but the machines were too jammed with quarters to accept ours; the gift shop closed before the park did, but they let us come back the next day to pick up some souvenirs; the magician doubles as the emcee for the diving horse, and makes balloon animals in between shows to give to the children—for $2 a piece. I love, love, loved the Magic Forest—a theme park that has remained untouched by time, become abandoned while it's still in business and is completely unaware of how cool and marketable it actually is—and I hope it continues to forget that it should have closed years ago and remains in Lake George forever.

Upstate NY Diners

I mentioned that we passed three diners just off of the Taconic Parkway, on our way to Lake George—we ate at the West Taghkanic Diner but we just stopped to creep on the Chief Martindale Diner and O's Eatery. I'm sure the Taconic used to be lousy with roadside diners in the 60s, but diners are dying at an alarming rate. They seem to be less threatened upstate than they are in the city, but faster interstates and more direct routes have left scenic roadways like the Taconic feeling forgotten.

All three of these diners are very close to each other—it took about 8 minutes to drive from one to the other. I almost fainted with excitement when we arrived at the Chief Martindale Diner. They have not one, but two amazing signs, and it's impossible to pick which one I like more. The neon DINER letters are HUGE (presumably to function as a billboard to passing motorists) and just perfect in every way. The Chief Martindale sign is a total classic as well, although I guess I could say that it's lacking in colorful neon like the West Taghkanic sign, but it's just so great with its arrow and script that I can't fault it for much.

O's Eatery was slightly underwhelming, but only because the two before it were so very excellent. Taken alone, its double-sided diner sign is pretty perfect, but it's also not a classic rail car style like the other two. I can't speak to the interiors of either place, although I did look up the Chief Martindale and from what I saw, I think it might be even better inside than the West Taghkanic if that's possible (next time!).

Bonus diner!

On our first morning in Lake George, we ate at the Prospect Mountain Diner, and we liked it so much that we came back the next two days for breakfast. It's a classic rail car style, and although they have outdoor seating, we sat inside for ambiance-sake. The vinyl-glitter booths, black-and-white-checked floor and boomerang countertops were all so wonderful, but it was the tabletop jukeboxes that really set the scene (your song selection played throughout the whole diner). At one point during our first breakfast—with a delicious waffle in front of me and a whole day at the Magic Forest ahead of us—I looked up and said "I don't think I could be happier than I am now," and I definitely meant it.

Muffler Men: Magic Forest

In addition to the two Paul Bunyan muffler men that we saw on our recent trip to Lake George, we saw a few other less traditional figures. The Magic Forest contains four muffler men, including one Bunyan, a clown, an Amish-looking "happy halfwit" and Pecos Bill.

While the Bunyans are the most classic, the thing I love most about muffler men is the customization and variation between them. It's fascinating to me the amount of objects, themes and outfits that all sprung from essentially the same place, multiplied by changes made throughout the years.

The clown is the one I was most looking forward to seeing, simply because it varies the most from the standard model. I was disappointed slightly that he wasn't holding anything (a hot dog!?), but his "come here little children" gesture definitely ups the creep factor significantly.

While I certainly recognize their ability to creep, I've never really been scared of clowns. The Pecos Bill muffler man, however, definitely made me feel a bit uneasy. The lighting was such that his face was in shadow, which made him feel more sinister than I'm sure he was meant to be. I do love his airbrushed belt buckle, although that feels like a more modern addition.

The happy half wit is the most intriguing—I'm not exactly sure what possessed someone to style this half wit like an Amish lumberjack, but I'm into it. According to the muffler men-experts, American Giants, the half wit is a name coined by Roadside America for the Alfred E. Neuman-lookalike that International Fiberglass (maker of the muffler men) called the "mortimer snerd." The one at the Magic Forest sports and Amish-style beard, hat and shirt and carries what appears to be a rather new axe. We discovered a busted axe laying on the ground pretty close to the halfwit, although I guess it could have once belonged to Pecos Bill (now object-less) or my fantasy-husband-Bunyan near the entrance.

Magic Forest: Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs

I'm eternally fascinated by relics from past World's Fairs, particularly anything from the 1939/40 and 1964/65 fairs held in Queens. I had forgotten that the Magic Forest claims to have a Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs attraction from the 1939 World's Fair, so when the lady who sold us our tickets mentioned it, I think I actually squealed with recognition and delight.

I did some more research on the exhibit when I returned home, and it turns out that it's (probably) not actually from a World's Fair (or even made by Disney), but was created for a department store by a papier-mâché company in Ohio licensed to create window displays with Disney characters. I'll admit that I'm still a bit bummed that I have to take it off my list of World's Fair relics I've seen (Sinclair dinosaurs, muffler man, NY State Pavilion, Unisphere, Panorama), but it's still very old, historical and slightly weird so I'm glad we got a chance to see it.

The figures are original and made of papier-mâché, although they have been repainted and reclothed at various times since 1937. The figures move in limited ways, powered by wooden cams and rods. The animation is crude by today's standards, of course, but in a world of video screens and crazy technology it's really charming to see something so simple. The restoration work varies from hardly noticeable (or not-at-all-noticeable) to pretty obvious, although I'm sure it's difficult to maintain so many figures/scenes, especially when most pieces are constantly in motion. 

I spent longer than I thought I would in the exhibit—I'm not a huge Snow White fan, and it's a pretty small room, but the figures are full of personality and the sets are interestingly detailed. The exhibit has a very It's a Small World feel, complete with repeating stuck-in-your-head-for-days-soundtrack and figures that are obviously cartoonish, but just real enough to imagine them coming to life at night, when everyone goes home.