Unwinding in a Winter Wonderland - the Lake Placid Lodge in upstate New York

USA Today (Society for the Advancement of Education), March, 2001 by Wayne M. Barrett

Cozy cabins, crackling stone fireplaces, king-size featherbeds, and mouthwatering cuisine make Lake Placid Lodge, nestled snugly in the Adirondack Mountains, the ultimate haven for pampered relaxation.

IT HAPPENS EVERY SPRING. Scores of travelers delight in leaving their snowy, slushy home environs for the warmth of the tropical (or at least Florida) sun. Not us. Snow and ice is what we crave. Even a cold--and, at times, biting--rain is most welcome. We were treated to all three--as well as the warmest, coziest retreat in the Northeast--during our stay at Lake Placid Lodge, nestled in the Adirondack Mountains in upstate New York.

What struck us most are the spectacular views of the lake and mountains (around every comer, from seemingly anywhere on the grounds), the large stone fireplaces (they're everywhere), and the wood motif (is there anything more comforting?). We'd also come to the 100-year-old lodge at just the right time. With a scheduled brief closing of the premises in the offing (kitchen renovations), this perfect getaway jewel became rarer still: The place was virtually empty, practically devoid of guests. We not only had the complete attention of the crackerjack staff, but those two most precious of commodities: time and space. These are not to be underestimated, especially in our case, since these were our first days alone in about five years. (That's what happens when you have three preschoolers.)

Vacations, like life sometimes, depend on momentum. If you get off to a good start, you can ride the wave all the way through. Upon our late check-in (we're the absolute worst at packing and getting out on time), we were handed two complimentary tickets to the "Stars on Ice" show at the nearby Olympic Center. (Lake Placid, one of only two world sites to have hosted the Olympics twice the Winter Games of 1932 and 1980--still serves as an official Olympic training site.) We couldn't have a sit-down dinner, but we did have time to go to our roomy log cabin, start the fire, and enjoy the welcoming hot chocolate and scones before setting out for the skating exhibition. (Like every vacation, this one had its running joke--the fireplace. Any time we left the cabin, upon our return, the ashes had been removed, the wood replenished, and kindling and more logs set up for the next burning. With all the work our fireplace at home commands, what a pleasure it was to merely have to strike a match to produce a room-warming blaze.)

The Stars on Ice? Just awesome, as is the venue in which they perform. Olympic medalists from around the world are part of this skating troupe. The costumes, choreography, music, and, most of all, the athletes themselves left us shaking our heads in amazed appreciation. As an added treat, the show was being taped for television. After all the routines were completed, the participants did retakes of any glitches that had popped up along the way. The skaters are very much at ease throughout, but even more so at this juncture. There's a lot of bantering with the crowd, all of whom seem to be right on top of the ice, thanks to the seating layout. There was plenty of good-natured hooting and cheering as some performers had to do multiple retakes before getting their jumps and twirls just right.

We hadn't anticipated returning to our cabin past midnight, so we were relieved to find a selection of gourmet cookies (and, of course, a refueled fireplace) awaiting us. The fridge also had been stocked with a variety of soft drinks, fruit juices, springwater, and milk, so we didn't have to waste the complimentary bottle of champagne to wash down our late-night snack. Sweet toothes satisfied and bellies contented, we finally made our way to what can only be described as the ultimate throne of slumber. The king-sized featherbed--head- and footboards all tree trunks and thick twigs--proved to be beyond sleeping Nirvana. This extraordinary altar to the sandman also faced an oversized picture window. Since our cabin (built in the 1920s) was all of three feet from the water's edge, and since the cool, crisp winter-like weather of the previous evening had given way to what proved to be two-plus days of rain, our vista for the rest of our stay would be Whiteface Mountain and the North Woods, fronted by the cloud-shrouded Lake Placid. No boats. No fishermen. No skaters. Just ducks, and lots of mist, making everything a relaxing shade of gray. It was heaven.

I lit the fire and we drowsily considered if we had enough ambition to go to breakfast or be romantic and order in. The lure of seeing the main lodge, with all its forest-made furnishings and fireplaces, somehow pried us out of bed and out into the rain-soaked snow. The uphill trek stoked our appetite for what was to be the first of a string of exquisite eating extravaganzas. Even simple dishes like waffles (for her) and poached eggs (for me) proved irresistible. Our lunches and dinners, meanwhile, seemed to grow more sumptuous with each sitting. Savvy restaurant critic types would now provide all the painstaking details of every course consumed, explaining the nuances of each perfectly prepared dish. We're not going there, though. We will say, however, that the European-trained chefs (a rare husband-and-wife cooking tandem) produce incredible American cuisine with a regional flair, showcasing fresh local game and produce. The desserts--especially the Chocolate Mousse Pyramid and the Warm Pecan and Apricot Tart--were to die for. Months later, we still can't settle the debate as to what is the best part of the Lake Placid Lodge: the quiet, the rustic beauty, or breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It's a delightful dilemma that we intend to continue contemplating.