The ruins of two forts sit at Crown Point, and the restrooms are decidedly locked (Don't ask how I know.) after hours. I parked and walked to the larger of the ruins - those of the British Fort (existing from 1759 to 1773, when it suffered a chimney fire).
It was a great day for a little exploration - weather and temperatures optimal for walking around outdoors, mazing through the doors of the remaining barracks walls and meandering around the earthworks outside the rock.
In the center of the parade grounds was a large stone, embedded as part of the natural ground. When one looks carefully in such areas, one will find little treasures, and I was intrigued to find carvings - graffiti - from times long past. Presumably, it would be an unwelcome addition to add a new signature to the stone today, but these engravings added to the history of this place in my mind. A couple of these boast dates in the 19th century, and at least one announced the year 1767.
These ruins jutted into the blue sky with only a few sounds of children and families in the ears. One must think not only of the occupants of such a structure, but also the building protocols and processes. One of the placards even call the British fort "a superior example of 18th-century engineering" and calls for its preservation as "authentic ruins".
Off to the side, just a short stroll away lie the ruins of another, older fort. This fort - the Fort of St. Frederick - was in operation by the French starting in the 1730s. Before allowing the structure to fall into British hands during the French and Indian War, French troops blew up the fort. What's left are short remnants of walls closer to the point of the land on this beautiful lake.
I couldn't wait to get back to the hotel and upload my photos and look them over. These teacher institutes see me traveling miles from home, alone, but usually there are other teachers accompanying me. During this side trip, I spent some alone time. It was quiet, so I stood at the shoreline, enjoying the surf as I took in the evening sun and watched a young man drag his boat to the lake, a young lady walking her dog, and colorful sailboats, and some soft clouds suspended over the distant mountains.
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I took a side trip to Crown Point during one of my free evenings while at the Fort Ticonderoga Teacher Institute in July. Crown Point is just a 20- or 30-minute jaunt from Ticonderoga, and would be on my way to the airport a couple of days later.
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