Camp Dudley, We hold you in our hearts... Niagara-Westport, NY

The green foliage that blankets the Northeast is beguiling, and one could be tricked into thinking that this verdant land would not be nine feet under thick snow for the majority of the year. Having packed up and crossed back into the States early, passing under the not-so-watchful eye of Border Patrol, we tore through New York stopping only for gas and lunch.

We made it to Westport, on the western shore of Lake Champlain in the late afternoon, winding through the brief summer-inhabited vacation town to the road to Camp Dudley, YMCA.



Emily's Uncle Mark, a Dudley boy as a teenager, has managed Alumni Affairs at the camp, for a number of years and graciously gave us boarding with the 600 residents finishing the summer session. We stayed in Maclean Lodge, in a room furnished with two bunks and an ADA-compliant bathroom. The staff and campers were very welcoming, as we had meals in the staff canteen and bustled about campus as they enjoyed their activities.

Our first full day, we headed out for Lake Placid, host city for the Winter Olympics in 1932 and 1980. Upstate New York is one of those places where driving doesn't necessarily require a destination, its just that beautiful. We passed summer cottages of all sorts, some weathered and kitchy, other plastic and sterile. Cows occasionally roamed near the roadside, but for the most part the wet fields were speckled with baled hay and wildflowers.
The Olympic campus at Lake Placid- a town barely fit to be called a village- dominates the hillside. The free tickets Uncle Mark had arranged for us granted us access to the observation deck perched at the top of the long jump ski-lift, where views of the Adirondacks stretched out as far as the interment weather would allow.





Here we found the creative practice young ski-jumpers tackle for days on end in the summer, developing their balance for mid-air maneuvers.
Waiting for the green light from the coach below, the young athletes watch the ramp being sprayed and the jets breaking the water's surface on the pool far below. The flag goes down, and, hunched for speed, the skiers barrel down the line and flip madly, rigidly in the air before crashing skies-first into the deep water.







We enjoyed the camp's fishing, views, friendly staff and campers for another day, before heading out early the 14th for Maine.