Fahnestock Gravel: 10/12/24 Ancient Paths to Modern Roads

[Ripitz]

Part One

Set out on a pleasant afternoon for a gravel tour from my house through Wiccopee to Fahnestock State Park. This area is rich in history. Human habitation has occurred here for at least 10,000 years, possibly even longer.

I started off on country roads passing the old Methodist church with a congregation that hovers around a dozen or so. The general store that we used to pedal our pennies to for candy has been shuttered for years. The sprawling dairy farm that once was is now covered with sprawling “luxury” homes. Our local pick-your-own has been swarmed by the masses. Screaming children can be heard running amuck while oblivious parents stand on cider donut lines that can be seen from outer space. I make a hard pass.

Soon I hit the gravel and start my long climb up East Mountain.

I know this road well, I’ve been riding it off and on since the late 80s. It’s super smooth today.

I stop to visit a cemetery hidden in the woods. A close friend, whose grandparents owned the dairy farm, once showed me this place. He is a descendant of people who were laid to rest here. His ancestors born long before our country was founded, a German immigrant who married a native woman named Free Love. She died in 1816 at the age of 87.

Some of the graves are marked with simple stones.

I paused for a few minutes before leaving just to be with them, wondering who they were.

After a short shwack back to the gravel, I continue the climb to Schoolhouse Mountain Road. The one room school stands no more and the long abandoned road is now an improved multi-use trail.

I run into two bikers about to descend on a slacker lap. One parked car at the bottom will shuttle them back up. No judgement here, I’ve done similar things before. I heard one of them mention something about beer and I’m curious. The next thing I know I’m cheering my new friends with a Sam Adams Octoberfest.

They remind me that cycling can be a social activity. I get a laugh hearing their hoots and hollers as we drop in since I usually ride alone.

Soon I leave my friends and I’m on my own again.

I survive the hair raising descent with no suspension and breathe a sigh of relief once I reach the old Hubbard hunting lodge.

 

[Ripitz]

Part Two

I pop out onto the pavement of Route 9 near the intersection of 301. A short ride south and I’m back onto gravel on the Old Albany Post Road. This is one of the oldest continually used dirt roads in America. Originally a Native American path used by the Wiccopee and Wappinger tribes it became a formal road in the mid-17th century.

Used to carry mail from New York to Albany, in 1703 it became known as the Queen’s Road when it was declared to be a "public and common general highway". More recently, plans by the town to pave were discovered and concerned local citizens formed the Dirt Road Society and fought to preserve it. Now, this section is on the National Register of Historic Places as it is almost entirely original. The soft sandstone milestones, still visible, are protected by little brick and stone houses built around them.

They are always on the west side so people could tell if they were headed in the direction of north or south. They are on my right, so I know I’m headed south.

This one is mile 58 from NYC.

Down a little further is the 1761 Bird and Bottle Inn. It served as a stagecoach stop for many years before becoming a renowned restaurant in modern times.

I have fond memories of being the tavern keeper there for a few years, back in the day. Governor Pataki would come in with his family and have their own private room off to the side. I remember him awkwardly crouching down when visiting the tavern, as his tall frame was in a funny opposition with the low ceilings.

It appeared as if a wedding reception was about to take place as guests were arriving in fancy dress. It gave me a warm feeling to see people gathering to observe a different kind of milestone.

From there I turned up Indian Brook Road to continue the gravel action.

Passed a perfectly perched boulder.

An abandoned homestead.

With some wild turkeys.

A stone chamber.

It appears to be a blend of old construction with “newer” plug and feathered stones placed during a reconstruction. It was perhaps used to store munitions when this area was fortified during the Revolutionary War.

Indian Brook Road

I cross over Dennytown to the Sunken Mine Road. This area has mines that were used to supply iron ore for the foundry in Cold Spring in the mid-1800s. The surrounding forest was completely chopped down and the trees placed in smoldering pits to make charcoal to fire the kilns. A keen explorer can find the narrow gauge railroad beds, mine shafts, tailing piles, exploratory holes and charcoal pits that remain.

But today, I’m on the hunt for gravel and something much older.

I stop at John Allen Pond to filter some water. Built by the Conservation Civilian Corps in the 1930s, the dam is in need of repair.

The levels are shockingly low. I don’t have many options, so I fill up my bottles with some delicious pond water. The CCC is gone but the beavers are still hard at work. I hope my filter works too.

The old road is fast and fun.

A quick jaunt leads me to a lookout.

It’s getting late, the shadows are long.

The gravel ends near the Clear Lake Scout Reservation. Soon after, I pass a bear and say, “Hey there bear!” as I continue on my way. Neither of us are too keen on hanging out together.

 

[Ripitz]

Part Three

I whizz passed another stone chamber near Lake Oscawana.

And another.

And this one with what looks like a collapsed roof.

And then this one which I’ve actually been inside of. I did some gardening work for the owners at their house a few years ago and he asked us if we wanted any of the junk stored inside. I remember thinking it didn’t appear to be a root cellar since there was no ventilation. We were amazed by its construction and oddity.

What’s with all of these chambers? It turns out they are sprinkled all over the Northeast. The Putnam area however has the greatest concentration, with over 200. Stone walls too, they seem to be everywhere. Yankee lore explains they are simply colonial root cellars and the walls were built by the settlers. Mounting evidence suggests that they may in fact be much older, maybe even ancient.

I find the Roaring Brook Trail that parallels the Taconic near Pudding Street and head towards the CCC shelter. It’s a multi-use trail but it’s in rough shape and most of it for me is a hike a bike. I’m out of water so I leave the bike and shwack down to the Roaring Brook which is now a trickle. There, I find an underpass for the brook to cross the Taconic. I fill up my bottles and head through to the other side.

I shwack around the mountain with snake walls everywhere.

They are built mostly on bedrock and are definitely not utilitarian.

Some have niches.

Eventually, I find some four wheeler trails that lead me through an abandoned summer camp.

I get turned around and end up on top of a mountain where I can see the skyline of Manhattan.

I attempt to shwack back down and eventually find the trails that lead right to what I’ve been searching for.

I’m in awe.

Known as the King’s Chamber, it is the largest of them all. I head inside with good intentions and I’m overwhelmed. It’s massive.

Wow.

NOT a root cellar. It is built with great intention. The entrance is aligned with the Winter solstice sunset. On that day the sun illuminates the back wall. A few hundred feet away another stone chamber known as Mother Earth is aligned with the Winter solstice sunrise. This is a sacred complex with a continuous ceremonial stone landscape. I take a moment to take it all in. It smells pleasant inside most likely from the burning of incense. There’s definitely a power here that can’t be denied.

I’m the only one there and I’m thankful for discovering it that way. I’d rather not stick around though for the witching hour to see who shows up. I check out the Mother Earth chamber and a little bit more of the complex before heading away.

 

[Ripitz]

Part Four - Fin

Mother Earth

There’s other enclosures nearby. This one has a standing stone.

I shwack back down and under the Taconic. People in cars fly by at 70+ mph oblivious to what’s in the hills as I have my whole life. I’m not supposed to be here. The park is only open from sunrise to sunset and I’ve overextended my visit. I find it ironic that the parkway is on the National Register of Historic Places while the nearby ceremonial stone landscape and Kings Chamber isn’t offered that protection. A steady stream of cars can speed through the night and I am not allowed to follow the adjacent trail on foot or by bike. Sometimes our world is just silly.

I make it back to the bike and hike it up the mountain to the CCC shelter.

I regroup, have some food and call home to say that I’m OK since I’ve been gone awhile. The roof needs a little repair but it’s dry inside and there’s a nice fireplace with plenty of wood.

I contemplate hunkering down but I’m not exactly prepared to spend the night. My feather weight cycling vest and windbreaker isn’t going to cut it. There’s lots of dry leaves and stilt grass to make a bed but I decide tonight’s not the night to test my survival skills. Time to boogie.

I throw the bike over my shoulder and crash through the blow down to find the trail to Peekskill Hollow which is the nearest road. It’s now almost midnight.

From there I start my way back. Back up Wiccopee Road.

Back up Oscawana and Sunken Mine passed the AT.

To Dennytown, Indian Brook, Old Albany Post Road, Route 9, up and over East Mountain into Wiccopee where it’s a chilly downhill all the way back home.

 

[SlowPokePete]

I've done some riding on Indian Brook, Sunken Mine, Old Albany Post Road, etc. back when I lived in Northern Westchester.

Great dirt roads and plenty of climbing.

Thanks for bringing back some fine memories.

SPP

 

[Low Angle Life]

13 hours elapsed time!? I admire your penchant for these drawn out adventures that often go into the night. I have a former bike racers bad habit of wrapping up similar distances in much much shorter time frames, there is something to be said for a ignoring the clock and taking in the moment as it comes. As an aside I've ridden Sunken Mine Road when John Allen Pond overflows and floods the road out.

 

[Brownski]

Goodgod man.

Lucky I’m off tomorrow since I’ve probably got about a ten hours of Wikipedia, NatGeo etc… ahead of me now. Sheesh, The Kings Chamber

 

[Ripitz]

13 hours elapsed time!? I admire your penchant for these drawn out adventures that often go into the night. I have a former bike racers bad habit of wrapping up similar distances in much much shorter time frames, there is something to be said for an ignoring the clock and taking in the moment as it comes. As an aside I've ridden Sunken Mine Road when John Allen Pond overflows and floods the road out.

My ride time was much shorter but still not fast. I take it slow especially since I’m by myself. I haven’t figured out how to toggle between activities on Strava to show the actual mileage. I hiked most of Roaring Brook with the bike to be safe and shwacking through the rocky mountainside had me going super slow looking out for rattlesnakes and stone structures.

 

[Ripitz]

Goodgod man.

Lucky I’m off tomorrow since I’ve probably got about a ten hours of Wikipedia, NatGeo etc… ahead of me now. Sheesh, The Kings Chamber

Haha, yes Broski, down the rabbit hole.

 

[Brownski]

Haha, yes Broski, down the rabbit hole.