Trek takes users through littered remains of Abbot Augustus Low’s former empire
By Tom French
According to Tim Lennon, one of my biking buddies on a trip into Horseshoe Lake, Route 421 is the roughest state highway in New York. It may be one of the shortest too, at less than six miles. I’ve heard speculation that part of it may have been the military turnpike from Lake George to Russell.
The north-south highway (which is actually east-west) was built in the 1920s as an access to Warren’s Point, location of a 1,260-acre Veterans’ Mountain Camp “for tubercular and convalescent ex-servicemen.” Established in the aftermath of WWI by the newly formed American Legion, it included men’s and women’s dormitories, a mess hall, recreation hall, hospital and “Outpost Camp” on Horseshoe Lake. The property was sold in 1981. Some structures still exist. Route 421 was officially extended to Horseshoe proper in 1961.
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Regardless, it is not well maintained, but is the best gateway to several adventures from missing monuments, canoe access to the Bog River and Lows Lake, and the bike and hike that Lennon, Doug Miller, Jay Czajkowski, and I completed while the trees were still leafless in April.
Horseshoe Lake
Abbot Augustus Low was an entrepreneur from Brooklyn (and son of a wealthy businessman) who decided to get into the Adirondack game after William Seward Webb established his railroad (and estate to the south on Lake Lila). Low began purchasing property in the vicinity of Horseshoe in 1892 and established several industries on his 46,000-acre holding including sawmills, maple sugaring, a potato farm, and spring water bottling plant. He also built the two dams associated with the Bog River.
Low’s Adirondack empire came to a screeching halt in 1908 after the most destructive fire in New York State History destroyed Long Lake West (Sabattis) and most of Low’s Adirondack operations.
Our trip began at a parking area along Horseshoe Lake near the site of one of Low’s large maple sap evaporators, likely “obliterated” when Route 421 was constructed on the old railbed. It’s believed that evaporator pans were first invented at Horseshoe by employees of Low’s.
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Our bike began on pavement that quickly turned to gravel. The road to the lower dam (a railroad spur for Low’s construction of the dam) is a quarter-mile from the start but currently closed to the public due to a dam restoration project. Work is anticipated to be complete by this fall – check the DEC website for updates on access.
Continuing right toward Horseshoe, we skirted around a closed gate, usually opened once the road is dry. The Horseshoe Lake complex contains 11 campsites, most next to the road and accessible by car.
Remnants of the past
After one mile, we rolled into Horseshoe past a few private camps and the foundation of a sawmill. The depot was on the other side of the tracks. According to maps in Michael Kudish’s “Where Did the Tracks Go,” several structures were in this area. The station agent’s dwelling appears to be a private camp along the western side of the tracks. Other remnants can be seen in the woods.
At this point we were passed by two people on fat tire e-bikes. As they were not pedaling in any way, I assume they were type II or III. They buzzed ahead of us and were quickly out of sight on the three-quarter-mile straightaway to the junction with the Pine Pond Branch (Otter Brook Road on DEC Maps) – Low’s spur to another sawmill and today a route to Massawepie and other environs. We turned left onto Lows Upper Dam Road. E-bikes are not allowed past this point but can continue along the Otter Brook Road.
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Doug has become our expert on railroad history any time we travel old railbeds. As we rode into the heart of Low’s operation, Doug continued his history class. He had several Kudish maps, so we stopped frequently to search for remnants of Low’s industries.
We think we spotted signs of his narrow-gauge railroad which was changed to standard in 1904. We found a narrow-gauge rail used as a gate post. We stopped at Maple Valley and noted railbeds curling into the surrounding forest. A cement pad for an evaporator is reported to be somewhere in the woods along with barrel hoops from a stave and heading mill.
After the beating I’d taken biking at Cathedral Rock in Wanakena four days earlier, the flat railbed to Low’s Upper Dam was a welcome relief. It rises gradually to a high point a quarter mile before the dam, but no one had to dismount on this day. The sticks and debris that littered the road were the biggest challenges.
As we rolled toward the upper dam, signs from Low’s day appeared. Sidings to his potato farm near the present boy scout camp curved to the right. Cobblestone walls appeared on both sides. We swung around the gate and dismounted, storing our bikes inside the intact walls of a cobblestone garage. The dam, refurbished in 2017, looks immaculate.
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Low’s Ridge
Doug referred to Kudish’s map to make sense of the terrain and detritus around us before we began the climb to Low’s Ridge. Originally a bushwhack, as described in Barbara McMartin’s “Discover the Northwestern Adirondacks” (1990), the DEC installed the marked 1.1-mile trail (with 420-feet elevation gain) in 2007 and routed it with a wide switchback. According to DEC sign-ins, the trail sees about 1,000 visitors per year. The first tenth of a mile is steep, but the trail levels to the left on the first leg of a gradual, half-mile switchback. The trail follows the backbone of the hill before popping out onto Low’s Ridge, now referred to as Hitchins Pond Overlook on DEC maps.
We refreshed ourselves with homemade molasses cookies while admiring Whiteface, Marcy, the Sewards, Santanonis, and prominences to the south. The floodplain around Hitchins Pond spreads out below with views of the New York Central/Adirondack Railroad, its bridge over the Bog River, the four-plus-mile flatwater to Lows Lake (famous for headwinds in both directions), and the road to Sabattis (access for the Boy Scouts and off limits to the public three-quarters of a mile beyond the upper dam).
Old signs and structures
By walking the sometimes tricky, rocky ridge to the east, we found the plaque for Low’s son (also Augustus) and eroded, 100-year-old engravings by people now lost to posterity.
Upon returning to the upper dam, we grabbed our lunches and walked past the foundation of the boarding house (demolished by the state in 1999) and picnicked near the Dog Cemetery, as referred to in Kudish. The channel below the dam is clearly manmade. How the original river flowed through this area is hard to tell. LIDAR imagery suggests it was significantly widened through an esker. Stone steps rise from the water’s edge in a couple places with daffodil lined stone paths – perhaps remnants from Low’s gardens. Behind the fireplace of the lodge, a staircase climbs steeply up the hillside to more ruins above.
Spotting cisterns
Low’s bottling operation, Virgin Forest Springs, was located a quarter mile further up the road to Sabattis. The cisterns can still be seen in the beaver-flooded area west of the dam. Bikes are not allowed beyond the gate, so you’ll need to hike if you’d like to check out this bit of history.
The road rises along a significant esker. Once you reach the top, look to the left for the bog mat. You will see the steel pilings that surrounded one of two springs. In order to see the other wooden cistern, continue a tenth of mile to the “slow ahead” signs. The cistern is clearly visible.
Upon returning to the bikes, we pedaled up the short hill and enjoyed a generally downhill course back to Horseshoe Lake and then found the “bottle spur” east of Horseshoe. The exact purpose for the 400-foot spur is a mystery, but the area is filled with refuse. Once the source of intact glass bottles patented by Low, the area has been heavily disturbed by collectors seeking the rare bottles.
The total time for the trip was about 4 hours.
Many decades ago there were two hydropower plants in that area but they fell into disrepair. I recall that I saw what was left on Upper Lows Lake and there was also one on Hitchins Pond. Thanks to the FERC and New York’s forever-wild law these two renewable energy resources will never be redeveloped (until such time as our current society collapses and the property passes to new owners who might be predisposed to harness energy resources instead of putting them off limits).