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the loss of balls exacted quite a price even from a skilled player, and my father, at the time, was pretty much of a duffer.

Lake Clear was only a few miles north of Saranac and reached by trained via the NYC Adirondack Division as usual. I can still feel the thrill of waking up in the morning on the sleeper and looking out the window to find us perhaps standing quietly in a station like Tupper Lake Junction, or finding us winding along through deep, pine forest, and looking ahead when taking a curve, which was most of the time, to see the big, black, steam locomotive chugging along through the beautiful wilderness -- and knowing the deeply satisfactory feeling of being about to begin a pleasant stay in the North Woods. We detrained at Lake Clear Junction where a branch took off for Lake Placid a few miles away, and another independent line branched off to go to Paul Smith's a big resort hotel nearby. This latter railroad was owned and operated by Paul Smith's and was not only electrified but, as I recall ( and I should be ashamed of myself for not knowing this), had an AC trolley but the type of locomotive escapes me -- I think it had a rectifier or perhaps induction motors of some special type. Lake Clear Junction stood in a cleared area of a few acres and consisted of the depot opposite which was a row of three or four stores, plus a few scattered cottages around the clearing. It wasn't much of a place but it was about a mile from Lake Clear Inn and provided an objective for an occasional walk over the sandy road which ran for a bit along the lake and then turned through the woods; along this road were blueberry patches almost continuously. When you arrived by train, the Inn carriage was there to meet you and transport you and your luggage the remaining mile.

The Inn was a square, three-story, frame structure painted white with green trim, quite undistinguished but comfortable. It stood on a rise overlooking the lake, which was roughly circular and 1 1/2-2 miles in diameter. The road from the Junction continued through the woods to Paul Smith's and St. Regis. A big boathouse loaded with canoes and rowboats stood on the shore and had a large ramp that sloped down into the water. Beside this was a small beach and shallow water where the kids could swim safely. Back of the Inn was a huge ice  house where the whole summer supply was stored in sawdust. Back of that was the barn. And near the Inn, there was a row of half a dozen or so rustic cabins each occupied by a family, who took their meals at the Inn. There were many trails through the woods in all directions as well as one nearby mountain to climb. It was a pleasant walk to Paul Smith's and St. Regis along the road, and Paul Smith's was a very ritzy place with fancy gift shops and boating and swimming facilities. Two trails were of particular interest, one leading along the top of the bank above the road to the Junction, which led to the cottage of Prof. Smallwood a Forestry prof at Syracuse University who spent the whole summer there with his wife and two boys;