The Perils of Pauline and Ray

In honor of Dad's (Ray Leary) 121st birthday, here's a story I've never shared with you before. It needs some buildup.

The silent film series, The Perils of Pauline were mostly filmed in Ithaca, NY. Ithaca was the Hollywood of the silent film era. The gorges, waterfalls, and beautiful Cayuga Lake- all of which I show you pictures of when I go home- created dramatic backdrops for the cliffhanger stories.

Pauline was played by an actress by the name of Pearl White, a native of the Ozarks. The films all had the same plot. Pauline would end up in some sort of mortal peril, and then she would be rescued, usually by a handsome man such as Creighton Hale or Lionel Barrymore. You've probably heard his name at least. Here is Pearl with (maybe) Ted Wharton who with his brother Leo were the big name filmmakers of the era. The 20 Pauline movies were made between 1914 and 1919.

Now we switch to a journalist/ author named Arch Merrill. He lived from 1894-1974. If you are from the Finger Lakes area of New York, you are probably familiar with his books. Some are collections of newspaper columns, others were written as books. They are filled with highly readable tales of the history and culture of the Finger Lakes. Some titles are Slim Fingers Beckon, Tomahawks and Old Lace, The Towpath- you get the idea.

In his book Upstate Echoes, there is a chapter about the era of silent films. He focuses on Pearl White, giving this description. "She wore slacks and smoked cigarettes at a time when women just did not do those things." She drove a canary yellow Stutz Bearcat, usually at breakneck speeds. She was arrested in Trumansburg (a town near my hometown) for speeding, paid the fine and swore at the judge.

In that same book is a story which I will quote:

And there's the tale of the teenaged lad who had long worshiped the actress from afar. One day while standing in his yard, he saw the yellow car stop in front of the house and the angel of his dreams step out. She advanced toward him and the boy blushed and trembled. No doubt the actress, struck by his manly beauty, was going to offer him a ride. Disillusionment was swift and complete when his idol called out: "Little boy, may I use your bathroom?"

Dad always claimed that he was the boy. It's possible. The time frame is correct. The house was on the main highway north from Ithaca and just five miles from Trumansburg. Dad was not given to tall tales or bragging, so it wasn't in his nature to make up stories.

Here is Dad on the porch of the house (with his parents). He looks to me to be 14-16 years old, which puts the years at 1918-1921, but it could have been a year or so earlier. The photo is not dated, and Dad always seemed to look older than his years in every picture I have of him as a child. So this would be about when this episode took place.



Here he is in what I think is 1922. I think this is his high school graduation picture and he would have been almost 18.



At any rate, enjoy the humorous tale. I like to think it was Dad!

Interestingly enough, he died the day before his 71st birthday, or 49 years ago yesterday.

I spent a bunch of time on the computer today and went to the store for supplies. Critter report: We've got ants in the kitchen. I chased a chipmunk out of the house twice today and fixed the loose place on the screen where it was coming in. The woodpeckers are banging on the deck posts, and I'm again fighting the bees.

See The Lake that I Love

Make That 100, Please!

  Last night, Marie and I made a list of all the hiking we've done in our time together this summer. It added up to at least 92.4 miles. We couldn't NOT do eight more miles to make 100. And it turned out that if we did all the remaining trails in the park, we would make that total. We'd previously done the Black and Green loops, and the ADA trail. The orange-blazed Bristol Branch also goes through the park, which we did first. Today we did the Yellow, Brown, Purple, and Red trails. None was as challenging as the Black trail, although there was still a decent amount of elevation change on the Brown and Red trails.

We found a couple of really nice painted rocks. Some people consider this a violation of the Leave No Trace ethic. But this is a heavily used place, not a backcountry area, and it made us smile. Loved this old oak, even though it's mostly dead. This is actually one of a long line of oaks that grew up in the open (spreading branches). They were probably a fencerow lining a farm lane at one time.

We were more than glad to have cold drinks when we finished. Selfies are goofy, but we wanted a picture of us together. And we got our 100 miles for this trip. There's no rule about this, but we usually have done something near 100, and both of us just wanted to make it. Went to Wegmans for the final errands before parting. We took a short walk along Canandaigua Lake, which is one of the large Finger Lakes. It was a perfect day for water sports, and the kayakers, paddle boarders, boaters, etc were out in profusion. Best part as far as I'm concerned was this female common merganser. Then Marie had to head toward home. I've moved with the trailer to friend Irene's yard. Pretty tired, and missing Marie already. See you tomorrow. 

See Ontario County Park

The Hills of Almost Home

This New York hike came the closest to where I grew up of anyplace on the North Country Trail. I really have no reasons to ever want to move back to NY any more, but the geology has such a hold on me that it's hard to explain. Whenever I drive back to the area there is a physical sense of peace that overtakes me when I begin to enter the hills of the Finger Lakes. This hike went through and over several of these green ridges.

This is one of the prettiest pictures, a shot of Lamoka Lake, which is one of the small, hardly-known of the lakes. I grew up between the two largest, Cayuga and Seneca. Those two lakes are each about 40 miles long and 2 miles wide. Big. Also deep. Those glacial valleys just plunge to depths of 700-900 feet, and the hills rise about 500 feet above the water. When I add the information that those lakes are only 10 miles apart, you can begin to understand the idea of "steep."

Here is a long shot of the valley to the south of Seneca Lake.

What I couldn't get is a picture that really shows the extent of either lake. Actually, that is a very difficult task from anywhere. Both lakes have a bend, and the only pictures I've seen that really show their length are aerial views. But here's a small slice of Seneca Lake as we were beginning the walk down to Watkins Glen.

This picture is a good example of the walking. The trail goes through a lot of forested land, but sometimes (due to agreements with landowners) follows the edges of farm fields. In these situations, there are views that really show the lay of the land and how a hiker moves through it.

That's all for now. I'm fairly tired... leaping from the hike to the Birding Festival. But I saw several people I hadn't seen for years. I met a man who moved here a couple of years ago who is an amazing naturalist. I've been wanting to get acquainted with him for a long time! I learned some things about birds... I'm not a great birder, but adding more knowledge is always good.

I've made a tentative plan for the actual dates to finish my hikes. Now it just depends on how soon Marie can get here. She's still uncertain about skipping a meeting.