Intro

I’ve been known to commit to things I later regret.

Nothing major like running a marathon or hiking the Appalachian trail in high heels. No, just small things here and there that demand far more attention than I had originally desired to invest. My most recent example would be stating (out loud) that clearing out of a wooded area behind my house would be kind of fun. “The summer project to keep me busy” I believe is what I called it. You know, just a small project to make an unusable space into a garden of sorts for the Misses. Keeps me out of trouble.

Boy was I naive.

Having made the idea publicly known, or at the very least, known in my own home, my wife made a suggestion one weekend. She decided it was time to start working on my project. It was time to start clearing. Three weeks later the backyard looks fantastic, but man am I sore. While I don’t regret the final outcome, I do find that my mouth gets me into commitments that I wasn’t expecting.

I’ve lived in the Finger Lake region of New York State for my entire life. If you had asked me to name all 11 Finger Lakes, I’d give you about 7 and then say the rest were made up. Mainly because I didn’t know that there were 11 in total and I certainly didn’t know their names. Needless to say, I had also not visited them in their entirety. Only a short drive here and there and I could dip my toe in each of the local water supplies.

I want to visit all the Finger Lakes and take photos.

I wanted to make it my 2023 goal to visit each of the 11 Finger Lakes. And as a photographer, I’d use this opportunity to take photos of each. Loving the idea, my wife and I systematically visited all the lakes in order from furthest East to West in the order. Being a resident just West of the furthest West lake (Conesus), this means our commutes will progressively get shorter as the adventure continues.

Disclaimer.

Now, I will say up front that the motivation was not to capture the most amazing photos of each lake. That will come over time. No, this was purely with the intent to visit all the lakes, and while in the area, take photos as evidence. These photos, along with dipping my right hand into each body of water, would be proof of our excursion. Times varied from first thing in the morning to just after dinner. Weather is everything from cold and rainy to bright direct sunlight and hot. We even touched three different seasons along the way. But we did it. And below is my recap of each lake.

Otisco Lake

Thus our journey begins as we started with the Easternmost lake. For those who are in a similar boat as me and didn’t read the heading above, that lake is called Otisco. Not sure why we didn’t start with the lakes closest to us. Or go in the order you would read them on a map. Then I’d be starting with Silver Lake… Oh wait, Silver Lake isn’t a Finger Lake. It only perfectly aligns with the other 11 lakes and is shaped like a finger. Ok, maybe not perfectly aligned...

However, it does seem arbitrary that Silver Lake isn’t included in the mix while Otisco is. Nothing against Otisco, but it was originally a marshland until dams allowed the water to build up to what it is today. The name Otisco literally means, “waters much dried away.” You know what doesn’t mean that? Silver. Pretty sure silver is a type of metal.

Time to plan the trip.

Looking at an aerial image of the lake in order to map out our adventure, we quickly realized that there wasn’t much to attract the average tourist to this unfortunately named body of water. The first thing you'll notice from up high is that the lake seems to have an oddly straight line of land that separates the southernmost tip from the rest of the lake. That natural anomaly is not natural at all. It’s a road.

Yup, an abandoned road still cuts its way through the lake and is now home to many a fisherman seeking to catch (and theoretically release) its next tiger muskellunge. Admittedly a fish I'm largely unfamiliar with but learned that they can get rather long. Up to 4 feet long to be exact. That would be our first destination. A road that you cannot drive on. Pretty exciting.

Now before I continue, I need to note that I'm naturally a pessimist. You know, the kind of person you hate to be around, but when you are self-aware enough to recognize that you equally respect and despise their opinions because of how true it likely is. That guy.

There was nothing to see at this lake. I had scoured the internet in all its glory trying desperately to find something noteworthy to photograph. A point of interest is all I ask for. The abandoned road, that's what was given. The unnatural existence of land bifurcating the lake, a landscape photographer’s dream.

You may have caught a glimpse of subtle sarcasm in reference to the abandoned road. I would feel worse about it, however, upon getting out of my car at this spectacle there was an opened bag of frozen (not so frozen anymore) shrimp on a guardrail and several pairs of socks scattered about. The word “refined” did not come to mind.

Apart from it being a Finger Lake, this wasn't what I was hoping for. Less spoiled seafood and more scenery would have been nice. But as our sovereign state flag proclaims in Latin, onward and upward!

Next up, and really the only other notable place we could find, is the park at the northeastern corner of Otisco Lake. A parking lot the size of my driveway, grass, and a handful of benches welcomes you to Marietta, NY. If that didn't welcome you, the side eye of the common fisherman screams hospitality.

Well, we tried.

I knew this would be a challenge. Showing up to random spots on a lake in unexpected weather and lighting and trying to photograph it stretches me in many ways. First obstacle is to overcome the pessimism in order to see the beauty around me. Then I need to utilize my knowledge of photography to capture it. Lastly, the challenge of seeing enough good in my photos to be willing to share them with others. A valiant exercise and likely a necessary one for me.

No offense to the lake or the community surrounding it, I did not see anything that made me excited to pull out my camera. Fortunately, I'm a sucker for lakes. I love being on lakes and photographing them. However, without a fishing pole or kayak in hand I was left unamused.

All that being said, it was a great start to our trip around the Finger Lakes. Only 10 more to go!

Skaneateles Lake

Hopefully by the time I complete writing this post I will be able to spell “Skaneateles” without the need to Google search it each time. Frankly, I find it extremely difficult to Google search “how to spell…” when I can’t formulate the beginning 3 letters of the word. All the AI in the world will never be able to read my mind.

Come on, Google. That finger lake somewhere East of me that I can’t spell because it doesn’t remotely represent its pronunciation. To which Google responds with, “Which one?”

Skaneateles, by definition, means “long lake” in the local Iroquoian language. Apparently it took a while to walk from the northern end to the southern tip for some prime fishing locations. To be fair, it is a 16 mile walk. I don’t see many people walking that kind of distance one way to get their Friday fish fry. If they did, they’d probably be more inclined to eat something healthier.

Learning how to pronounce such a name is its own chore. Not only does its spelling suggest “SCAN-eat-ells”, but it had to have its origins in a language very few people speak today. I can, however, confirm that this town and lake is not an underweight mythical Titan. Instead, “skinny-ATLAS”, as the locals call it, is a continuation of the gross misuse of the English language. I pity anyone who has to learn English as a second language.

Being the second lake on our journey through the Finger Lakes, Skaneateles was a step up from its neighbor, Otisco. No offense to Otisco, but you didn’t have a local historian corner me and spend 20 minutes talking in great detail all about this beautiful body of water. I’d like to say I retained a percentage of his knowledge. I didn’t. He did have a cute dog though. Oh, you had to ask me the dog’s name… Let’s move on.

The parts I did retain were boiled down to 2 takeaways:

There are impressive houses on this lake.

Looking at lakefront houses on Skaneateles has delicately reminded me that there are people in this world who have more money than me. A lot more, even. I’m not saying I’m poor. What I am saying is that my yearly income would likely not cover the property taxes alone. So much for that life goal.

The lake water is unbelievably clean.

This lake is known for having one of the cleanest water supplies in the country. My rudimentary knowledge of the quantities of living creatures that can and will defecate in the water plus the shimmer of oil floating on the surface from that passing boat deterred me from partaking in that moment. However, I’ll take their word for it.

The lake is beautiful. But so is every lake in my humble opinion. However, one thing that stood out to me was the village and the parks. A lovely little village rests at the northernmost point of the lake and houses many shops, restaurants, and most importantly, coffee. Given that it was late morning and I lacked my daily intake of caffeine, that was high on my priority. Shout out to Skaneateles Bakery for enabling my morning addictions.

I’d highly recommend anyone visiting Skaneateles Lake to head straight to the town of Skaneateles. However, learn from my lesson and budget more time to enjoy the sights and food. Feeling a bit rushed, I would have enjoyed a tour on “The Judge”, a boat properly named after a local, Ben Wiles. I certainly would have improved as a person by partaking in Doug’s Fish Fry. And I wouldn’t have had to walk 16 miles for it.

Two parks, a pier, and perfectly concealed restrooms underneath a gazebo left me wanting to hang out down by the water for the entire day. Plus, a historic village to wander around if the view ever got boring. The jury is still out on whether or not this is possible.

Down to 9.

Owasco Lake

Here lives another Finger Lake that was passed over in my formal education of New York State.

I find that it’s really simple to have access to the water on any Finger Lake if you simply head North. At the northern tip of every one of these digit shaped bodies of water is a park. These parks vary in size and complexity, however, they offer free parking, grass inundated with geese feces, and most importantly, water. The view is about the same. It’s a lake; long, relatively narrow, lakes.

So having no local knowledge of Owasco Lake we naturally headed to the northern tip. Lo and behold, there was Emerson Park. A massive, beautifully maintained park with free restrooms (which I was personally thankful for) and a theater smack in the middle of a large grassy area (undoubtedly covered in the excrements mentioned above). Nested on either side of a canal which shuttles boats in and out of the lake, Emerson Park was clearly the place to be.

Starting the day with cooler than typical temperatures, I donned a Buffalo Bills hoodie for our drive out to Auburn, NY. Intentionally parking in the shade to avoid the direct sunlight, we landed directly beside a canopy of sorts. Realizing that the hoodie was a mistake, I began stripping to what sounded like the best of 60’s summer hits. All of a sudden I’m blasted with the scent of charcoal, fake palm trees and grass skirts, and a horde of people dancing to my favorite genre of music.

Round round, get around, I GET AROUND …

How was I not invited to this shindig? Beach Boys were blasting through the two elevated speakers above a card table manned by an individual with an iPhone. Burgers and hot dogs were being perfectly charred over the scent of lighter fluid carcinogens. Every so often a waft of algae infused lake air would pass by gently relieving you from your sweat engulfed t-shirt. Life’s perfectly imperfect environment.

It is possible that I happen to like the Beach Boys. And as we walked around, my wife found out that I’m knowledgeable of all the lyrics to these classics as well. While I’d never in my lifetime be capable of reaching the vocal ranges of these singers, I certainly tried. A couple times I needed to stop and compose myself afterwards. Worth it.

Having made our way across the canal, we decided to explore the park a bit more. Holding onto my dear wife’s hand and with a DSLR in my other, I attempted to find some composition for a photograph. Lakes are lakes. Take a picture of one in the middle of the day and experience how unbelievably underwhelming it is. Or better yet, post it on the internet and see how easy it is for people to ignore. Sure, it was more of a “you had to be there” kind of thing.

If everybody had an ocean …

My focus had to shift from looking at the water as a whole to what was around the water. The lake could make for a backdrop, but I needed a subject. If I were only taking pictures of the lake, I’d likely need to rent a plane and get a better perspective. Fortunately, my fear of heights and tight spaces helps my wallet and lends me to taking pictures of standard issue things from the ground.

Things like benches. Yes, the things you sit on. Or that is what I’m told. It’s severely uncommon that I see benches in parks being used for anything other than a home for spiders and the occasional perching spot for the local fowl. Sitting is good. There is nothing wrong with taking a minute to peer out onto the beautiful landscape and just take it all in. Even if it smells like carcinogens and algae.

The pier was beautiful, well maintained, and lent itself to interesting compositions. For the sake of a walk and experiencing the lake up close, I could have spent hours on that section of brick walkway hovering over the fresh waters of the Finger Lake. Perfectly lined with decorative and protective fencing, and even more benches along the way, the pier ended with a quaint gazebo enabling the perfect view. What more could you want in a park on the Finger Lakes?

I wish they all could be California girrrrrrrls …

Though relatively unknown to those outside the area, Emerson Park may have been my favorite spot to date. I would not complain if I had a 60’s summertime party with Beach Boys music and hot dogs at this park. The drive would be a bit much, and frankly I’d have to pass by 8 Finger Lakes in order to get to this park. Yes, Conesus, Hemlock, Canadice, Honeoye, Canandaigua, Keuka, Seneca, and Cayuga are all closer to my house. Maybe we will pick one of those …

While these pictures won’t land themselves in a gallery in NYC, they quickly and accurately represent our lovely time at Emerson Park.

Onto 8.

Cayuga Lake

And then there's Cayuga; the big boy.

It’s not technically the largest, nor the deepest of all 11 of the Finger Lakes. It’s simply the longest. You get a true feel for how long this lake is when traveling from the north end of Owasco to the South end of Cayuga.

Ithaca, home to many ornithologists and liberal opinions, was where we stayed on this first outing to the Finger Lakes. This allowed us easier access to the lesser known lakes, while simultaneously putting us in the proximity to some of the most beautiful state parks in the area. Believe it or not, we hit Otisco, Skaneateles, Owasco, and Cayuga all in one trip. This made Cayuga less exciting, but a lake to visit, nonetheless.

Picking a spot to visit this final body of water of the day was fairly difficult. Almost 39 miles long, there are a plethora of towns, parks, roads, and peoples yards to trespass if needed. So, we needed to boil it down. According to Google, major landmarks of Cayuga Lake consistently showed me waterfalls that I know are not on the lake, but merely in the vicinity and a lighthouse. And I’m a bit of a sucker for lighthouses.

We navigated our way down the lake to the lovely town of Lansing. In Lansing there is a park called Myers Park. And inside Myers Park was a lighthouse called Myers Point Light. Clever, I know. Given that this was a park with a marina, I figured this would be a perfect place to stop and spend some much needed time outside of the car. The morning had been an overwhelming success, and then we pulled up to the gate of Myers Park.

The one park we needed to pay to get in …

I’m not used to paying to get into parks. Call me spoiled, which I may be. Call me cheap, which I am for sure. Either way, spending actual cash to get into a park is a difficult pill to swallow. The lady says it will be $7 to enter. Having been down this path a time or two, I ask if they accept the Empire Pass for entry. Nope, no such luck. That will be 7 buckaroos.

For the record, we had spent entire days going in and out of parks such as Taughannock Falls State Park, Robert Treman State Park, Buttermilk Falls State Park, Allen H. Treman State Park just to name a few. Now why in the world would you allow me to access those gorgeous (tee hee, gorges) parks at no cost because of my handy dandy state issued park pass … Ah, right. State Parks. NYS is not known for its generosity, however, their Empire Pass is worth the corn if you like to explore beautifully maintained parks in Upstate, NY.

Myers Park was not run by the state. Myers Park did not accept state money to enter. Myers Park was simply thumbing their noses at our pitiful attempts to gain free access. However, payment comes with expectations. Before I launch into a value to cost ratio argument, let us consider what I had gone to this park for. Simply put, to touch water and to take pictures of a lighthouse. To be fair, I did both in our short visit, however, I’d like to propose it was not worth $7. So, we had to make it worthwhile.

The first thing we saw to take full advantage of was the multi-tiered playground. Impressive in size, there were multiple structures designated for differing age ranges. As I was outside of all the ranges listed, I assumed all were available for my enjoyment. Fortunately, I was the only human being in sight, so I made a fool of myself attempting to do things I used to do with ease as a child. Monkey bars are just not what they used to be, or am I not what I used to be? Sigh, getting old sucks.

Next up was a squirrel. We love our squirrels, enough so that we feed them on purpose. Not to fatten them up for an evening stew, but so that their fluffy tails will be perched on our porch year round. Anyways, that did help add to our $7 value, though I see squirrels every day.

Lastly, the lighthouse. It always amazes me what a picture can do. It can take the mundane, insignificant, two dimensional, largely unappealing and turn it into something interesting. I’m not saying this lighthouse was any of those things. Of course I’m not saying that, that would be rude. I’ll say this, positivity is a skill yet to be mastered. It was cute. The lighthouse was cute.

I’m not asking for any refunds; I’m generally opposed to such things. However, I will point out that I worked hard to break even in my personal value to cost ratio. $7 equaled playing on a playground, seeing a squirrel, touching water, and taking a picture of a cute lighthouse. Well played, Myers Park, you won that round.

4 in one day, 7 to go.

Seneca Lake

Seneca Lake is not a mistake.

That should be clear, I don’t want to give off the wrong impression. Unless you want to say that icebergs forming a massive hole and eventually filling it with its remnants was a mistake. I’m under the belief that it wasn’t, as we did not have the excessive emittance of gasses to destroy our atmosphere in place yet when all this occurred. No, the mistake I’m referring to was entirely my own and had nothing to do with lakes.

I make mistakes often. I’m of the persuasion that the quickest way to progress is by breaking things. Ok, maybe not literally, but the idea stands in my brain. Incorrect exposure was easily the most common mistake I made, while the occasional dropping of equipment was not beneath me. Who needs a camera strap anyways? They just get in the way. I don’t need thin nylon fabric to protect my (not willing to admit how expensive) camera!

Crash … Oops.

Anyways, the next Finger Lake on our list was the mighty Seneca Lake. Fun fact, it is the largest Finger Lake by volume and the deepest. Given its overwhelming size, our task was to find a single location to visit said water and dip my fingers into it. The obvious answer became Watkins Glen. Though contrary to all our previous visits, this was at the very Southern tip of the lake.

It would be a dual purpose visit. I had never been to Watkins Glen and I’d only seen Seneca Lake from a distance. Simple enough, hike the gorge right in the village and finish off with a walk around the lakeshore. This gives me a card to play in my back pocket if the park on the lake isn’t pretty for pictures, since the gorge at Watkins Glen, though not on the lake … is gorgeous. Sorry.

The gorge hike.

Off on step one of our two step process with the little one tucked away in an Ergobaby carrier. Oh, by the way, we had a son between our visit to Cayuga and Seneca.

We are set to hike the gorge trail and experience the large crowds of people, overarching walls, sketchy bridges, and get uncomfortably wet walking underneath some waterfalls. Hmm, that sounded negative. I used to work in sales, I will remind you.

I thought it was beautiful, just a bit crowded. That all aside, it was a photographer's dream location for interesting shots within the Finger Lake region. Just go early in the morning.

Given the narrow nature of the gorge, I made a deliberate choice to only bring my wide angle lens and a 50mm prime. Mistake? Maybe, but not the primary issue. The wide was exactly what I wanted and I was able to get the compositions I liked much easier with it. And worst case scenario, I’d swap out for the prime lens and get a more focused shot. It’s a gorge, what would I need to zoom in on?

Frankly, I was pretty excited about my pictures. I saw a few on my display and had that feeling of eagerness to get these on the bigger screen and see what I can pull out of it. If nothing else, the area was so unique that I figured I could fix most exposure inconsistencies, crop, even a little photoshop to eliminate people from photos. However, I learned that there is one thing you cannot fix in post.

The import.

As I imported all the photos into the computer, I opened the first couple and waited for them to load in. You all may not know this, but when you first open a larger file in Lightroom, it can look blurry until it fully loads. So I waited. And I waited a little longer. I zoomed in. I zoomed out. Uh oh. Every photo looked blurry. Everything was just slightly out … of … focus. Hmm, can’t fix that in post. Something is wrong.

Fun fact, there are only a few settings on the camera lens itself; focus mode is the primary one you’d use frequently. Another fun fact, the last time I had used my wide angle lens was for night photography. While shooting the stars, standard practice is to set your camera lens to manual focus, mainly because there isn’t enough light for the lens to focus in on anything automatically. And there it remained, in manual mode, for the entirety of my hike up Watkins Glen.

So, I came away from that hike with one photo. The one photo that I used my prime lens for. Taken at the very beginning of the hike, before you even enter the gorge. Yup, that was my picture taken of this iconic location. The rest were from Clute Park and the marina. Proof that I made it to the lake, as I barely have proof of my trip to Watkins Glen.

As I used to say to those who made glaringly simple mistakes that were outside of their norm, “Well, what did you learn?”

I learned nothing, except that there are 6 lakes left.

Keuka Lake

I have a tendency to analyze things.

I wouldn’t consider myself a deep thinker, however, there have been times I dive deep enough into a passing thought that those around me start to feel motion sickness from the downward spiral of philosophical reasoning spewing from my mouth. All that without a shred of evidence. Just me, my thoughts, and anyone who will listen. It’s weird being me.

Upon visiting Keuka Lake, an odd lake in and of itself, I overheard a comment from a stranger across the way. The question sent me into a tailspin of consideration on a whole realm of possible reasonings on its origins. The question was profound, yet naive. It was specific, yet vague. It was right, yet completely wrong.

The question? “Is this one of the 5 Finger Lakes?”

Short answer, well yes, but no. My new subject of deep analysis was clearly not a local. This led my thinking into a few different questions that I will address in the remainder of our time here today.

Why, of all the lakes in New York State, did you think this lake was a Finger Lake?
Why did you think there were five Finger Lakes?
Where did you draw your confidence from to put a specific quantity of lakes into your question?

I’ll address my thoughts on these questions in reverse order from what I have listed above.

You see, the problem arises in the fact that this question could have been posed in a different, more encompassing way. This way would have been more forgiving, and turned what is now a blog post into a simple and helpful conversation in real time. It no longer would require deep thought, merely a yes or no response. It is the way that it was worded that caused mayhem.

“Is this one of the Finger Lakes?”

Yes, yes it is. And frankly, let me tell you ahead of time that it is the strangest shaped, most commonly mis-pronounced Finger Lake. Welcome to Keuka lake.

That didn’t happen. Primarily because the way their question was worded required a breaking down of one's perceived knowledge in order to answer it. I can speak to the affirmative of the question, however, that quickly gets debunked by a more helpful and precise answer.

“It is one of the 5 Finger Lakes, but in addition to another 6.”

Which eases me directly into the second question. Why would you assume there were only 5 Finger Lakes? It seems like a reasonable assumption, until you think about the quantity a typical person has in fingers. Each hand has 5 fingers, correct. But you made the assumption that the lakes were named aptly based on a single person's hand. Not a collective number of fingers on an individual, just on one limb.

Well, the jokes on you. Because the total number of Finger Lakes is 11, not 5, nor 10. 11. I have yet to meet an individual with 11 digits to their anatomy. I’m sure they exist, and it may even be possible that the entire Finger Lake region was fashioned after that individual. Seems like a stretch. Let's continue.

Maybe the Finger Lakes were named due to the shape of the lakes resembling a finger. This is where I’ll land on the final question, why would you assume that Keuka Lake was a Finger Lake?

I’ll go back to an earlier statement about people with 11 fingers and say an equally dense statement of, I’ve never met someone with a finger in the shape of a Y. Of all the lakes to assume being a Finger Lake, I'd much prefer that you’d pick one that actually was in the shape of a finger like Onondaga, Silver, Oneida, etc.

This lake doesn’t resemble any of my fingers, and I pray that mine will never resemble the shape of Keuka. That would provoke a severely urgent call to a doctor.

All that to say, Keuka is 1 of the 11 Finger Lakes, despite its shape not resembling a finger. You're welcome, random person who’ll never read this blog post.

I probably should wrap this up with a quick update on my trip to this lake. My wife and I brought our month old baby with us to Hammondsport to enjoy the beautifully quaint town and the waterfront of our beloved Finger Lake. It has quickly become one of my favorite spots on all the lakes, and hosts many tasty wineries.

If you like wine, or fingers in unnatural shapes, Keuka Lake is for you. Just don’t ask questions because I might be lurking around the corner.

Down to 5.

Canandaigua Lake

It's like a house, but for boats.

Boathouses are fairly common at lake houses, but have you ever seen a complex of just boathouses? Maybe, but I hadn’t. Canandaigua Lake is home to the historic boathouse district on the pier at the northern end of the lake. This is easily the most photographed area in all the Finger Lakes. Well, at least in my portfolio.

You see, there was a time when I lived very close to Canandaigua Lake. I’d venture out to practice my photography here often, given my love for lakes and not driving long distances. It was picturesque, unique and really close to a Wegmans. What more could you want from a photography spot?

Then I got in trouble.

Believe it or not but taking too many photos of something got certain people angry with me. Because of my desire to not drive long distances and to be on the water I took a lot of photos of these boathouses in particular. Turns out there are only so many compositions you can make with these occupancies of miniature aquatic vessels.

My thought was always that the lighting was different, the clouds may vary, inspiration may change, thus the photos varied. It maintained my interest level; shouldn’t it maintain those around me as well?

Clearly not.

Then people started to catch on that 90% of my photos were taken on the same road, park, pier, etc. Not very diverse of me. I never thought I had the ability to anger someone with my photos. My goal was to represent something beautiful. Clearly beauty cannot be repetitive. People seem to like variance. But I’m here to make all those haters hate again. You’re welcome.

Canandaigua Lake was next on the list. The goal still being to hit all the Finger Lakes before the end of 2023. So we stopped by this waterfront on our way home from Hammondsport. A short visit, but a dip of the right hand in the water to prove I was there, and I knew exactly where to head for some rage inducing photos.

Brace yourself.

The good news for you is I was forced to be creative. Middle of the day with bright direct sunlight does not bode well for taking dramatic pictures of boathouses. So, I only took one and it’s in black and white. The rest of the photos are a fun reflection of what you’d see when visiting the pier and Kershaw Park in Canandaigua.

A rogue pigeon here, someone sitting watching the waves, and of course, the Canandaigua Lady. A beautiful boat that has nothing to do with the boathouses. It simply wouldn’t fit into any of them, or all of them. I mean, these houses are small. It would be the equivalent to a $2,500 a month single room apartment in downtown Manhattan. Sure, there is room for a boat. But nothing else.

Please don’t be angered by this post.

Needless to say, Canandaigua Lake is one of my favorite lakes. It is easily my most visited. I simply do not feel sorry for taking so many photos of this area and I plan to go back and take more, so beware. You may see boathouse pictures in the future.

4 more.

Honeoye Lake

Overlook at Harriet Hollister Spencer State Recreation Area.

Familiarity breeds contempt.

A strong start. It seems the closer I get to home and where I grew up the harder it is to speak about each lake. Honeoye Lake is a Finger Lake that stands between two massive hills. And circumstantially (maybe not so circumstantial) is near the town of Honeoye. Not to be confused with Honeoye Falls, which is a town about 20 minutes North.

To be fair, Honeoye Creek does run through Honeoye Falls. Honeoye Creek does originate from Honeoye Lake. And there does happen to be a waterfall in Honeoye Falls. Not sure how we got here.

Honeoye Lake is the lake I visited the most often growing up. With an abstract representation of a beach in Sandy Bottom Park, water to swim in, and a swing set, this was a childhood favorite spot for those hot summer days. In terms of the amount of water I’ve come into contact with over my lifetime, this lake takes the cake.

Aptly nicknamed “Pee Pee Bottom” due to its unnaturally warm water and quantities of children soaking their diapers in the waves, this park also includes nature trails, insects, and toxic algae blooms. Don’t forget your swimming shoes! Zebra mussels are lurking under the surface with their razor sharp shells waiting to split open any foot that dares sweep by.

Enough about the past.

Though it is still referred to as Pee Pee Bottom in my brain, I tend to be a bit friendlier in my recollections today. It is a Finger Lake, and a beautiful one at that. And unlike most of these lakes, there is the option (minus the plane) to see the lake in its entirety from a single spot.

Harriet Hollister Spencer State Recreation Area is not only the longest name of a state park I’ve ever typed out, it is home to several trails for hiking, mountain biking, cross-country skiing, and other recreational forms of moving from point A to point B. It is also home to one of the coolest overlooks in all of the Finger Lake region.

Standing in a spot just off the driveway gives way to the most impressive view of Honeoye Lake. There is also a bench here for those who prefer not to stand. Either way, feel free to park at the entry of the park and hike up or be lazy like me and drive directly to the overlook. You will be glad you did.

Onto to the lake.

As I needed to put my right hand into the body of water, we needed to meander our way down the hill to the lake itself. As per usual, the northern end of the lake hosts the park with the easiest access to water. Though unfortunately nicknamed, it was our best option.

As a side note, the last time I had visited Sandy Bottom the water was closed for swimming. Something I’ve yet to understand. How can a lake be closed? There are hundreds of houses owned by private individuals surrounding the lake. Is the lake closed for them as well?

Please don’t try to explain, I understand more than I’m letting on and care less than I’m communicating. This time around there wasn't anyone on duty so the water was … open? I don’t know, either way we pull in and have no individual to tell us we cannot enter.

So far this was the prettiest lighting I’ve had since we began our journey around all the Finger Lakes. I told myself I wouldn’t need a tripod. Boy was I wrong. I could have hung out there for another couple hours if I have the ability to take longer exposure photos. This is a testament to how still the water and how perfect the autumn lighting was.

Becoming slightly nervous by the passing of a village vehicle, we packed up and headed home.

3 more lakes to go.

Canadice Lake

I’ve been known to speak the obvious.

However, I was told that, when writing, you should never assume the reader's intellect and / or knowledge. It is better to over communicate. Communicating more than you would perceive necessary is beneficial. In fact, the more you can communicate the same idea in varying ways, the more likely someone will retain that information. In order to assist people in remembering the point you are trying to make, remember to be repetitive for the sake of remembering.

And as a side note, repetition is how people learn.

Something happens in New York every year. And it seems to last longer than most would desire. It is necessary and unfortunate. In fact, thousands of people flee it annually. That’s right, it gets cold.

The cold makes deciduous trees pretty. The cold brings snow. The cold encourages more cuddling. The cold can be good. But the fact remains, cold is cold. And the cold is uncomfortable. Unless you are my Husky. Then cold makes you run in circles and submerge your entire face into the ground to absorb as much chill as possible.

As we approach these final Finger Lakes, we are navigating the November and December months in Western, New York. These are not known for short sleeve shirts and flip flop weather. However, I was not anticipating what we encountered on our trip out to Canadice Lake. The dreaded “S” word reared its ugly, yet beautiful head.

It snowed.

Canadice Lake may be my favorite Finger Lake. It is the smallest, it is the most remote, and arguably the prettiest. It is the closest to resembling a lake found in the Adirondacks, my favorite vacation spot. There are no houses, which is a crime to my life goals of living on this lake. Double edged sword on this point, since adding houses to the lakefront would pollute its picturesque scenery.

Now there are a couple other benefits to the cold not mentioned above. You see, given the rural nature of Canadice Lake, I discovered that spiders the size of my face enjoy navigating these waters. This is a problem. Mainly because I don’t carry a 12 gauge shotgun with me while taking photos and I have an unnatural fear of eight legged critters.

Spiders don’t like cold.

This is a huge plus. This knowledge allowed me to wander to areas I wouldn’t normally walk. With abnormally low water levels, we stopped at the boat launch for simple access to the water's edge. While my wife and son stayed by the car, I meandered along the shoreline to find some interesting compositions.

The combination of snow and late afternoon left everything looking a bit gloomy. I’m mostly ok with gloomy as it allows for more moody pictures. They may not check all the boxes on what most would deem pretty, but these conditions work for more dramatic photos.

Working my way back to the car, I witnessed my newborn getting pelted in the face with snow. It both warmed my heart and made me apologetic towards him that we live in a part of the country where the weather can hurt your face. The good news is we have a heated car waiting for our departure.

Getting to experience the remainder of these lakes with our son by our side has been the greater reward. Sure, your face gets cold. And you witness your father wandering aimlessly for hours at a time. But you can’t beat the view or the company.

2 more.

Hemlock Lake

I dropped my camera.

If I had a nickel for every time someone mentioned I should be using a strap for my camera, I'd have enough money to purchase my replacement camera after dropping it one too many times. Unfortunately, the world does not operate on spontaneous currency in exchange for frivolous statements. Or does it? Hmm, it might be time to launch that Twitter account.

The good news.

The good news is the camera and attached lens are both fine. The drop was more like a roll out of the trunk of the car. The impact was dulled by the soft landing spot of grass. And apart from the display screen being slightly ajar, the camera was in perfect condition.

The bad news.

I do have a camera strap. It's neatly tucked away in my backpack. The strap I spent real dollars on for the purpose of protecting my camera during these types of outings laid useless the time I needed it most. Human error, I'm sure as straps are far more effective when they are attached to their desired host. But that's ok, the camera is fine… I think.

Hemlock Lake.

Reaching number 10 on our list, Hemlock Lake is another water source for our greater Rochester area and houses no houses. A major fishing spot for those aquatic types of enthusiasts, it's a prime kayaking location for my wife and me. It also hosts a few waterfalls around the perimeter that I frequent with my strapless camera.

Given that this lake is so close to our house, I know a few primary spots for photos. My personal favorites are at, you guessed it, the northern end of the lake in a small park and a hiking trail a quarter mile across the way.

While visiting the park, your edge of the lake is built up by a manufactured concrete barrier and large stones. Not the most accessible. The view is mostly great, but the forty-five degree angle down to large boulders separating you from the potable water source is less than desirable. I've also witnessed several water snakes during summer months in these crevasses. You’ve been warned.

For safer, more immediate access to the water, go to the hiking trail across the way from the park. With a parking area the size of a shoe box, try to be there early. Though most people neglect its existence, the trail is well maintained and walks parallel to the lake for many miles.

I actually have no idea how long the trail is, since hiking 500 feet from the water's edge is not why I came to Hemlock. I typically take a sharp left turn within the first few steps and wander around the stoney beaches. And when the water level is low enough, you can walk that beach the entire length of the lake. Also, something I've never done.

The park.

This visit was unique in that our son was sleeping when we first arrived and, despite the onslaughts of judgments, we wanted him to keep on sleeping. So my wife stayed in the car while I wandered the park alone.

Being the middle of December and abnormally high temperatures, I had the park to myself. The water temperature left me singing in higher tones than I’ve hit in years and the area acts a bit like a wind tunnel. However, the view was beautiful, the lake was pristine, and I took pictures of abandoned fishing lures.

The trail.

Given that one of our priorities is to get a family selfie in front of the lake, we took that opportunity at the hiking trail instead of the park. Little man gets more sleep and we get our selfie. Win win. Right hand goes back into the water so that the crowd of witnesses could testify of my touching the water, and we are done.

1 more lake…

Conesus Lake

We did it.

What felt like a simple goal of visiting all 11 Finger Lakes in 2023 took us through several months of pregnancy, a birth, and the first 4 months of our baby's life. I’m ecstatic that I was able to share this whole experience with my wife, and though he didn’t see every lake, my son was with us every step.

Though I would typically tell the story of the visit to the particular lake, I’ll take this time to wrap up our adventure as a whole. I grew up 5 minutes from Conesus Lake and enjoy every visit. However, no cameras were dropped and no passing comments to cause hyper analysis of people’s intentions.

All photos will be represented in black and white. I’ve always had a fondness towards this style of photography but was always held back by others' perception of beauty.

It feels good.

It feels good to have accomplished a goal set out for the year. It certainly was not a New Years resolution, but merely a passing comment that was taken seriously. It gave my wife and I (and eventually my son) a chance to get away, take day trips, explore new areas, and enjoy some of New York's most beautiful lakes.

There were some bumps along the way (most notably the baby bump). There were some disappointments. However, having the opportunity to dedicate this much time to something I’m passionate about with my photography and writing, and being able to share it with loved ones made 2023 one of the best years of my life.

Thank you for making it this far. I know this is long, but I’m so excited to share all the photos and experiences and thoughts with you. Let’s see what 2024 has in store …