West Of The Wind

I was reading the August edition of Adirondack Life and stumbled across an article written by Annie Stoltie entitled Wordswoman, a take off of the Woodswoman series chronicling the life of environmentalist and author, Anne La Bastille.
Having a three summer long gig at the Big Moose Inn, I was unleashed into the large mountainous and wooded park within the blue line filled with the rich history of this magical area. I can't really recall the first time I heard Anne La Bastille's name or even which book of hers I read first. But like many, many others…I became greatly inspired by this blonde haired, beautiful woman who lived her life in a rustic, home made cabin in the woods, hiking trails with her beloved german shepherd dogs, totally dedicating her life to the health of the Adirondack Mountains. I read and collected every book I could get my hands on as her life's story greatly resemble mine once upon a time. Had I read her books sooner I would have (with no doubt) changed my life's course and would have attended Paul Smith's or some environmental program somewhere. She made it VERY COOL to be a woman in the woods and this reminded me of all the camping trips and time spent hiking around in the woods and the forts I made as a young girl, living next to a large wooded area and saddled with a great imagination. Anne was not only a sight for sore eyes with her pink lipstick and pig tails, but highly educated as well. With two Ph.Ds in her back pack, she also taught at Cornel University, worked for the Adirondack Park Agency, and spent seven years on the remote Lake Atitlan, Guatemala working to save the habitat of the endangered grebe, a large, flightless bird nearing its extinction. Sadly this war, she did not win.
After reading, Wordswoman, I found the email address for the letter's to the editor and sent an email thanking them for the story on Anne being a great fan and told them about the song I had written for Anne which, was on my website if they wanted to give it a listen.
Anne died July first. Stoltie must have written the story before she died even tho the story was in the August edition.
Two Sunday's ago I got an email from Doris Herwig, saying how much she loved my song Ode To Anne and invited me to perform it at Anne's memorial. I was stunned to say the least! I emailed back right away thanking her with a, YES I'D BE HONORED! The very next day I received the next issue of Adirondack Life and taking a break from housework, grabbed a cold beer to sit on my deck to relax and read. Flipping through the first few pages of the magazine and in the letter's to the editor section was the printed email I had sent after Stoltie's story and with the link to my website. I was ecstatic!
Saturday, August 20th, Bill and I got on the road around 7:30 am to Eagle Bay to catch the first of two days of memorial shuttles and headed out to Twitchell Lake. There I met Doris Herwig, a most wonderful woman, who told me the story of the first time she met Anne, next to a lovely shrine of Anne's books, photos, paintings, and other priceless tokens. Anne was Doris's best friend and the last thing Anne said to her was that she loved her.
After telling my story of how I came out to the Twitchell Lake boat launch one stormy day about three years ago with my little zoom hand held recorder that I put up in a ranger box to record the storm in which I edited and used to open Anne's song. I played my song Ode To Anne with out a hitch or a tear. Bill, my not-so-great-camera-man husband did video tape it. Its a shaky video, with bad sound quality. I may not post it...
Also attending Anne's memorial was her german shepherd dog Krispy Kreme. Knowing the gallant names of her previous dogs, Condor, Pitsi, Chekika and Xandor, I asked a Twitchell Lake resident how Anne came to name her dog Krispy Kreme? He replied, "She was eating a Krispy Kreme doughnut when she was searching for a name, and I guess she just really liked the doughnut!" After chatting some more, I finally asked just where is Anne's cabin? Bill and I have kayaked Twitchell Lake several times but never came to know where it was as many of the camps are hidden in the woods from the lake. This Twitchell Lake man, whom's name I won't reveal, looked at me and asked, "Would you like me to show you Anne's camp?" That was my blessing. So off we went in an aluminum boat up Twitchell, on the most beautiful blue sky day, to walk the sacred grounds of Anne La Bastille. Thank You Anne. And thank you Mr. Twitchell Lake resident for the tour of a life time I'll never forget.