Our first impressions of Lake Placid are oddly and unexpectedly reaffirmed by our continuing explorations, which reveal the existence of a completely inaccessible series of estates — here they are called “camps” — that ring the shoreline of the lake. Still filled with a naive optimism after descending from the nearby mountain, we had succumbed to a boat tour, on which we are informed that such-and-such property is owned by ___, an important business leader and industrial tycoon; like many of the the region’s most elite residents, he uses his property — said to be worth $___ millions — only a few hours each year.

All of this is familiar and tedious, and we are quickly lulled to sleep. Now dreaming, we find ourselves in a strange field amid the beautiful ruins of a time we would rather forget.