Tag Archives: Lake George

WMEO Nature Desk — Breaking News Bulletin- Bear Swims Lake

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Two cats sit behind a WMEO 9 news desk like TV anchors. On the left is an orange long‑haired cat sitting upright and looking calmly at the camera. On the right is a black short‑haired cat also sitting upright. A microphone sits between them on the desk, along with two sheets of paper. Behind them, a large newsroom screen shows a bear swimming in a lake with trees along the shoreline. Above the screen is a bold red‑and‑blue headline bar that reads “BEAR SWIMS LAKE.” The scene looks like a humorous animal‑themed news broadcast.

WMEO Nature Desk — Breaking News Bulletin

Filed jointly by Banner “The Senior Correspondent” and Balboa “The Intern Who Sleeps on the Job”

Banner: ahem Attention viewers — the WMEO Nature Desk is once again on high alert. These Adirondack animals are keeping this newsroom busier than a cat trying to outrun a vacuum cleaner.

Balboa: I tried outrunning a vacuum once. A black cat stands on a beige carpet, leaning forward to sniff the hose connection on a red and gray vacuum cleaner. The cat’s nose is close to the vacuum, and its body is slightly crouched in a curious posture. Behind the cat are household items including a purple storage bin, a wicker basket, and a green bag.Didn’t work. Anyway — Lake George has done it again. Another headline. Another critter. Just another day of Banner hogging the good chair.

Banner: Focus, kid. This time it’s a bear. Yup — good ole Smokey decided to take a refreshing dip in Lake George. And let me tell you, this wasn’t your average splash‑around‑the‑dock moment.

Balboa: No sir. This bear looked like he was training for the Adirondack Aquatic Marathon. Full strokes. Determined pace. Zero interest in the shallows. Honestly, he’s putting in more cardio than either of us.

Banner: The sighting came from Lake George Waterkeeper Chris Navitsky, who spotted our furry athlete heading straight toward Agnes Island, where campers were squeezing in some last‑minute summer memories.

Balboa: WMEO analysts have reviewed the footage and can confirm:

  • Bear was swimming with purpose
  • Campers were minding their business
  • And so far…

Banner: dramatic pause

Balboa: …there have been no reports of missing pic‑a‑nic baskets.

Banner: Yogi would be proud.

Balboa: Jellystone energy. Adirondack location. Close enough.

A cartoon moose stands upright on a brightly colored paddleboard in the middle of a calm lake. The moose holds a paddle with both hands and smiles confidently while balancing on the board. The lake is blue with gentle ripples, surrounded by green forested hills and a partly cloudy sky.

Banner: This has been your WMEO Nature Desk update. Stay tuned — because at this rate, Lake George might give us a moose on a paddleboard next.

Two cats sit behind a WMEO 9 news desk as if hosting a broadcast. The orange cat on the left sits upright and looks calmly at the camera. The black cat on the right raises a paw toward a small blue toy mouse with orange ears and an orange tail placed in front of it. The desk displays the WMEO 9 logo in gold and red, with “Thank you for watching” written below in white. The background resembles a softly blurred newsroom with lights and screens.

 

Baked Alaska The Dessert, Not The State

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A large lakeside resort complex on Green Island in Lake George, New York, featuring white buildings with brown roofs, outdoor pools, landscaped grounds, and a long dock extending into the lake. The resort is surrounded by dense green forest and distant mountains under a clear sky.

Growing Up a Resort Town Kid

Here we go again, falling down the nostalgia rabbit hole.

A friend of mine posted some vacation photos on Instagram, and one of them was captioned Sagamore Hotel. I immediately dropped him a note: Is that the Sagamore on Lake George? The one on Green Island in Bolton Landing?

When he said yes, they were vacationing there, I of course responded, That’s my hometown! Not the Sagamore itself, of course, but Bolton Landing. To this day it still surprises me when anyone says they know where it is. Everyone has heard of Lake George, but not Bolton Landing.

But I’m getting off track.

The Sagamore was a big convention hotel when I was growing up. They catered to business conferences, and then came the “social season,” when the rich folks from New York City arrived to enjoy the lake. That’s how us locals thought of them. After all, we couldn’t afford to stay at The Sagamore — so obviously the people who did must be rich, right? It was just one of those unspoken small‑town truths.

A spacious hotel lobby with rustic décor, featuring a large round wooden table with decorative vases, comfortable seating areas with earth‑tone armchairs and sofas, stone tile flooring, framed photos on the wall, and a mounted deer head creating a cozy lodge‑style atmosphere.

 

I had a summer job working with the local photographer. Mostly it meant sitting in the lobby next to a display board of photos and taking orders, but occasionally he’d bring me along for banquet night as his assistant. My job was simple: keep the film cartridges loaded and ready to hand over fast. This was especially important when the banquet started.

 

 

All the diners would be seated, and then the kitchen doors swung open. White‑suited chefs and waiters paraded in with huge trays balanced on their shoulders. And coming up the rear was the pièce de résistance — the flaming Baked Alaska. It was always quite a spectacle.

A row of formally dressed servers carrying dome‑shaped Baked Alaska desserts with browned meringue and small blue flames on top, presenting them in a coordinated procession during a banquet. The warm lighting and flames create a dramatic, celebratory atmosphere.

I had no idea then what Baked Alaska actually was, except that it was a dessert that made a grand entrance in flames. Imagine my surprise when I eventually learned it was basically ice cream. What? Doesn’t it melt?

I’m older now and a bit more kitchen‑wise, but I still don’t know if I’m brave enough to try this retro dessert.

Are you?

A Little History Before We Get to the Recipe

Baked Alaska goes all the way back to the mid‑1800s, when chefs were experimenting with the science of heat insulation. The idea was almost comical: wrap ice cream in a thick layer of meringue, then blast it with high heat. The meringue acts like a fluffy winter coat, protecting the frozen center.

The dessert became famous at Delmonico’s Restaurant in New York City, where chef Charles Ranhofer originallyA close-up slice of Baked Alaska showing layers of sponge cake, chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry ice cream, all covered in a thick coating of toasted meringue with golden-brown peaks. called it Alaska, Florida — cold inside, hot outside. Over time the name evolved into Baked Alaska, and restaurants began presenting it with full theatrical flair: dimmed lights, flaming rum, and waiters parading it through the dining room like royalty.

That’s the version I saw at the Sagamore — the classic banquet‑hall Baked Alaska, flaming and dramatic and absolutely unforgettable.

But the classic version is… well… a production. So here’s a simplified, home‑friendly version that gives you the magic without the stress.

🍨 Simplified Baked Alaska (Home-Friendly Version)

Ingredients

  • 1 pound cake (store‑bought works perfectly)
  • 1 pint ice cream (any flavor you love)
  • 3 large egg whites
  • ½ cup sugar
  • ½ teaspoon vanilla extract
  • Pinch of salt

Instructions

  1. Prepare the base: Cut the pound cake into a circle or square slightly larger than your ice cream dome. Place it on a parchment‑lined baking sheet.
  2. Add the ice cream: Scoop the ice cream into a rounded mound on top of the cake. Freeze for at least 1 hour so it’s firm.
  3. Make the meringue: Beat egg whites and salt until foamy. Gradually add sugar and vanilla. Continue beating until stiff, glossy peaks form.
  4. Cover completely: Spread the meringue over the ice cream and cake, making sure it’s sealed with no gaps. This insulation is what keeps the ice cream from melting.
  5. Bake quickly: Bake at 500°F for 3–5 minutes, just until the meringue is golden. (Or use a kitchen torch for even easier browning.)
  6. Serve immediately: Slice and enjoy the magic — warm meringue outside, cold ice cream inside.

A dome-shaped Baked Alaska covered in toasted meringue with golden-brown peaks, sitting on a decorative plate with fresh strawberries blurred in the background.

Final Thoughts

So there you have it — a little Baked Alaska nostalgia. It’s one of those retro desserts that deserves a comeback. Meringue and ice cream? Yes, please.

 

Lake Monsters of the Adirondacks: My Family’s Monster‑Free Record

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Beautiful Lake George surrounded by lush green hills, framed by leafy branches in the foreground, with a small sailboat visible on the water under a clear sky.

Growing Up Between Two Monster Lakes

My family has spent a lot of time on the two Adirondack lakes most famous for monster sightings. My mother grew up in Ticonderoga, right between Lake George and Lake Champlain, and I spent my childhood on Lake George. We used to road‑trip to Vermont and often took the ferry across Lake Champlain. If Champ was going to make an appearance, we were giving him every opportunity.

He never did. My mother never saw him either. Not even a suspicious ripple.

Champ is the celebrity cryptid of the region — the Adirondack Nessie — and people have been reporting sightings since the 1800s. Meanwhile, my family crossed that lake so many times we practically deserved a loyalty punch card, and still: nothing. Not even a polite bubble.

Champ: The Famous Monster Who Never Showed Up

Champ gets all the attention. Books, documentaries, blurry photos, breathless eyewitness accounts — he’s the star of Lake Champlain. And yet, despite all those ferry crossings, neither my mother nor I ever saw anything that even hinted at a lake monster.

Plenty of waves. Plenty of logs. Zero monsters.

Georgie: The Lake George Monster We All Joked About

Lake George has a monster too, though it’s a much quieter legend. Growing up, we kids always joked about “Georgie,” the Lake George lake monster. I assumed Georgie was just the local version of Champ — a long‑necked creature lurking in the deep water, ready to pop up and terrify boaters.

 

I never knew Georgie had an actual origin story. Apparently most people don’t, because Georgie tends to get lumped in with Champ and Nessie as if he’s part of the same folklore family.

He isn’t.

The Wild, Forgotten Origin Story of Georgie

Georgie was a hoax — and a spectacular one.

Back in 1904, painter Harry Watrous built a ten‑foot lake monster out of a cedar log, complete with a skinny neck, big eyes, a wide mouth, and hemp‑rope whiskers. He created it to get revenge on a newspaper editor who had tricked him with a fake giant trout.

Watrous anchored his monster in Hague Bay and rigged it with a pulley system so he could make it rise dramatically out of the water whenever he felt like causing chaos.

And he did.

Panicked boaters, screaming passengers, parasol attacks — Georgie caused absolute mayhem. Watrous revived the monster again in 1934 just to “spoof the world” one more time. The original Georgie still exists and lives at the historical museum in Hague.

None of this made it into the version of Georgie I grew up with. To us, Georgie was just the Lake George monster — the one we joked about while swimming or boating, the one we pretended might be lurking under the dock. The prank faded, but the idea stuck.

My Family’s Real Lake Sightings (Everything Except Monsters)

And despite all that time on the lake, I never saw Georgie. My mother never saw Georgie. And my brother — who has spent more time on Lake George than anyone I know — has never seen Georgie.

This is impressive, because my brother has seen everything else.

He’s seen rattlesnakes swimming across Lake George. The lake’s had rabid beavers. He’s seen deer swimming across the lake like they’re training for a triathlon. He’s seen strange wakes, odd shadows, weird currents, and fog that makes the lake look like a horror movie set. There have even been water spouts!

Island Camping: Prime Monster Hours, Still No Monsters

My brother also camps out on the Lake George islands during the summer, which means he’s out there at night — prime monster hours. If Georgie were real, my brother would have had front‑row seats.

But no. Not a single monster sighting.

If Monsters Exist, They’re Avoiding Us

Between Champ and Georgie, the Adirondacks are supposedly home to two lake monsters. My family has spent generations swimming, boating, camping, ferrying, and occasionally dodging rabid beavers — and we’ve never seen one. Not even a hint.

If the monsters are out there, they’re clearly shy… or they’ve decided my family isn’t worth the trouble.

Mohican-Paradise-Bay-

 

WMEO Breaking News Alert: Rabid Beaver at Lake George

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Now from the feline news desk at WMEO 9 — We Meow, You Listen — we bring you the latest update on the rabid beaver situation in beautiful Lake George, NY.

Dateline: Turtle Island, Lake George, New York The WMEO newsroom is issuing an urgent wildlife safety alert after a rabid beaver attacked swimmers on July 4th. The victims fought off the animal and were transported for hospital treatment, including post‑exposure rabies shots.

A dead beaver was later recovered . The beaver subsequently tested positive for rabies.

Story credit: WPTZ NewsChannel 5.

Rabid beavers are extremely rare. Cape Cod has had rabid raccoons in the past, and officials believe this beaver may have contracted rabies from a raccoon. Rare doesn’t mean impossible — and this incident is a reminder that wildlife can behave unpredictably when sick.

WMEO Newsroom Reaction

Banner’s Response

Banner immediately leapt onto the anchor desk, puffed up like a tiny orange emergency beacon, and announced:

“I knew beavers were suspicious! This is why I don’t swim. Water is plotting things.”

He then attempted to draw a “danger map” of Lake George using a paw dipped in tuna juice. It was… interpretive at best.

Balboa’s Response

Balboa froze mid‑snack, eyes wide, tail tucked, and whispered:

“Rabid… beavers? Deborah, I’m staying inside forever. I’ll just live in my box.”

He checked the WMEO garden cam three times to ensure no beavers were approaching the house.

WMEO Safety Bulletin

While the newsroom cats are spiraling, here’s the real takeaway:

  • Never approach wildlife, even if it looks calm or curious.
  • Leave swimming animals alone — especially if they’re behaving strangely.
  • Report unusual or aggressive behavior to local authorities.
  • Rabies is fatal if untreated, so post‑exposure shots are essential.
  • Any mammal can carry rabies, even species we don’t normally associate with it.

Nature is beautiful — but it’s also wild, and sometimes dangerous.

WMEO Closing Note

Banner has issued a formal statement demanding “protective floaties for all cats.” Balboa has requested “a beaver‑free perimeter around Turtle Island.” Both requests have been denied.

Stay safe out there, friends. Respect wildlife. And remember: if a beaver starts swimming toward you with purpose… exit the water immediately.

A beaver swimming in calm water with its wet head and upper body visible above the surface, surrounded by ripples and floating leaves.

End of bulletin. Please resume your regularly scheduled scrolling.

This has been a WMEO 9 New Update!

 

Echoes Over Water: The Enchanting World of the Common Loon

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A Song That Haunts the Lakes

If you’ve ever spent a quiet evening near a northern lake, chances are you’ve heard it—that eerie, tremolo call drifting across the water like a ghost of the wilderness. The common loon (Gavia immer) is more than just a bird; it’s a symbol of solitude, wildness, and the deep stillness of nature. Their calls range from mournful wails to yodels that echo across the surface, each one a language of territory, courtship, and connection.

They Wear Drama Like a Cloak

In summer, loons dazzle with black heads, dagger-like bills, and checkerboard backs that shimmer under sunlight. Their red eyes pierce the water as they dive for fish. Built for swimming, loons push through lakes with powerful strokes, thanks to legs set far back on their bodies. On land, they waddle awkwardly—but in water, they reign. You’ll rarely see a loon on land unless it’s nesting.

Photo Credit Jim Neumann

Parenting on the Water

Loons nest close to shore, often on small islands or floating vegetation. Both parents share the duties, and once the chicks hatch, they ride on their parents’ backs to stay warm and safe. It’s one of nature’s most endearing sights—tiny fluffballs hitching a ride across the lake.

Photo credit Jim Neumann

A Shout-Out to My Brother

This post wouldn’t be complete without a huge shout-out to my brother, Jim, whose loon photography captures their mystique with breathtaking clarity. His lens finds the soul of these birds—the shimmer of water, the intensity of their gaze, the quiet power of their presence. His photos remind us that loons aren’t just birds; they’re storytellers of the wild.

Photo Credit Jim Neumann

Where to Spot Them

In Massachusetts, loons are more common in the Berkshires and northern lakes. They have been spotted in places like Quabbin Reservoir.  During migration you might even find them near coastal waters. Keep your ears open and your binoculars ready—these birds are worth the wait.

Photo credit Jim Neumann

My brother’s Photos were taken on Lake George, NY