Menswear ruled the runways, but the real fall scene was on Great Captain Island, 9/14/14. On-trend men, l to r: Charles, Gidon, Rob, Alex
This fall, the stylish man opts for neoprene (black, sans cufflinks). The sleeveless “Farmer John” was seen all over Great Captain Island as were water-repellant skirts, booties, and hats, caps, stretchy tops and sleek, long-sleeved shirts. Belts were strictly “tow.”
Bea models the season-less World’s Orangest Hat by Gary
The World’s Orangest Hat was spotted on the beach (and from miles away, that being the idea, duh). Available at the Yonkers Dollar Store and online at American Science and Surplus, this wardrobe staple can be worn alone in summer or casually lashed to winter-weight neoprene caps. A real stand out!
The summer crowds are gone. Even now, few takers for ferry service to GCI.
Mailbox of the Nickerson family, caretakers of Great Captain Island.
Mares’ tails are wispy cirrus clouds. A weather trend that says “Wear your raincoat.”
Men’s fingerless gloves, as seen on Alan
The look south, towards Long Island
Fall arrives on Great Captain Island. Fashionably late, of course!
Good lucking guys, well-accoutered, and can’t get enough of Bea’s orange hat — photo too small. Getting near time to dig out the Farmer John, maybe in a week or two. Thanks for the reminder but not today. It may be spruce but makes me sweat like a pig on warm afternoons. Heading to Lake George to see if fall is underway. Expecting little company, September wonderful in this regard. The deserted pier photo says it all.
Hey there, stranger! Sure is nice to hear from you 🙂 You might want to toss the Farmer John in the car anyway, if you’re headed up to Lake George, no? We’ll look forward to some amazing photos. Yes, lovely to have the water all to ourselves again (well, mostly). BTW, thinking of how much we enjoyed Hudson last fall. But October got filled up already! How’s the November camping situation there? We look forward to seeing you and Julie. J&A
Hmmm — “Good lucking guys” — not what I intended but not the worst attribute.
Are you now a certified instructor? If so, congrats. For the record water temp still above 60 degrees so no need for a rubber wrapper in this context.
However, Poseidon, so kind to us the last day on Lake Champlain, inflicted a payback today. What were supposed to be calm conditions under blue skies turned out otherwise. A nice paddle but the grayness subdued the incipient colors and we cut it short. We’re going back Thursday for another look, also to eat breakfast again at Bolton Beans, a super diner in Bolton Landing. Top hash browns.
LOL — just read some negative online reviews, taking a different slant. I took beans to mean black beans, welcome in my hash browns. Their coffee beans not so good, cappuccino mediocre, being polite.
As for camping here in November, in a word it stinks — short days, long shadows, dim light, pervasive dampness & an overall sense of barrenness. Few animals, many dead leaves. Good for camping in the sense of no competition for sites and long dark hours fit for little but sleep. We usually put away the boats by mid-November, but if you decide to come we will surely stay afloat, Farmer John at your service!
I have an outside shot at 100 launches, may also keep me going.
Too bad October is nixed. I have a feeling the colors are coming, if only because the last two were drab. Still trying to figure out where Vlad found the red leaves proudly displayed on Wind Against Current.
The first photo is truly scary! 🙂
Ah, the fashionisto “pout.” Models never smile!
Update — we returned to Lake George yesterday instead of Thursday, launching at Hague, bypassing both Bolton Landing & Beans. It was wise to wait the extra day. As constant paddlers know there are times when the watery world floats the navigator into a dreamlike realm to which all of nature contributes, spectacular & serene, annihilating desire to be somewhere else. Nothing like it ever occurred during my decades of hiking & mountain climbing.
It struck me immediately at launch when we gazed across the bay from Hague Town Beach.
…tal dentro mi fei,
qual si fé Glauco nel gustar de l’erba
che ‘l fé consorto in mar de li altri dèi.
Some color blazing in the bright sunlight, more along the highways away from the lake. There’s a promise of brilliance in a week or two. Who knows if it will be kept?
Regarding November camping, my description kind of harsh, worst case weather. Last few years averaging 5 or 6 launches, usually coming off just before Thanksgiving, so how bad can it be? Still, it’s hard to refrain from using the word “bleak” when talking about this month.
Hey, Michael! Thanks for the beautiful descriptions here of 1) your Lake George trip and 2) the beginnings of fall color. We’re gonna need a translation of the Italian, however! I’ll bet you got some fantastic photos (then again, yours always are!)
…within me I was changed
as Glaucus changed, tasting the herb that made
him a companion of the other sea gods.
Glaucus taken from Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Book XIII
A bit over the top? Maybe, but we went north again yesterday and fall color is divine. Coming here soon, I hope.
Thanks for the photography compliment but the DSLR stays home when we visit the blustery lakes. Many spring & summer local paddles on mostly calm water, concentrating on photography not paddling, took its toll. To cut to the chase, Valcour Island in a steady 15kt SE wind is not where you want to discover your sweep stroke is junk, totally ineffective. I was the trip leader, and others were also a little intimidated, so we revised the float plan to linger on the protected side while we regrouped. Fact is, had the big camera been inside the cockpit, I would have had to stop to stow it in the day hatch, otherwise it gets in the way of necessary leg movements. Besides, photography with a DSLR & massive lens under such conditions is hopeless, if not for everybody, certainly for me.
Gee, sorry for this unwonted chatter, must have been infected by a kingfisher.
Marvelous! (Ovid, not the windy Valcour Island experience). How may folks in your group? All classicists?
Eight to start, five at the end, no casualties — one pulled out immediately, realizing it was too much for him, the second vacillated until we cleared the sheltered side, and, turning to face the ruckus on the broad lake, lost his nerve to neptune’s rollicking sheep. Unfortunately he collected the third (his passenger to the put-in) who wanted to stay. So it goes. At this point happily I began to recover my boating wits and took better control of my vessel.
Classicists? Seven duds & one dabbler who occasionally plunges into an ancient text head first, feeding on tales, and may devour a whole book.