We Have Lost an Adirondack Legend

I was very saddened to learn that yesterday a very dear friend of mine, Peter Hornbeck, died suddenly morning at his home. True to form, he went out the way we would all want to leave this world- swiftly, at home, without any previous suffering, and surrounded by his loving family- a class act to the last moment. To know Pete Hornbeck was to love him- once you were aware of his quirks! Anyone who has known him would have appreciated his kindness, humor, generosity, quick wit, artistry and vast knowledge of all things Adirondack. He seemed to be of another time- a simpler one with no computers, cell phones, or even electricity. He would have been happy living in a simple cabin- like the ones he built on his own property.  The world is a sadder place without him, and his passing puts the year 2020 into an even more cruel and despicable class by itself than it already was. Peter was an unforgettable character, and although he is no longer a living legend, he was a legend in his own time. I will always carry a little piece of him in my heart, and will remember him and thank him for his accomplishments every time I get into my Black Jack and set out on a pond, stream, river or lake anywhere in the Adirondacks.

In his honor I am reprinting the vignette I wrote about him in 2008 that became a chapter in my book Never a Dull Moment. I will also be creating and adding to a photo album of the many photos I have taken of him over the years we paddled and camped together as co-founders (with another legend, the late Patrick Sisti) of the League of Extraordinary Adirondack Gentlemen in my website photo gallery dedicated to him.

.                                    Peter Hornbeck

                           Boatbuilder, Olmstedville

                                   November 2008

 

                                 Peter Hornbeck

July 4, 2008 was a beautiful day on Blue Mountain Lake. I had just bought a Hornbeck Black Jack canoe from Peter Hornbeck’s shop in Olmstedville, and I was eager to take it for a test run. It was a picture-perfect day, with beautiful cirrus clouds dancing across an azure sky, while a light breeze stirred up the warm summer air. There are few things in this world that are more enjoyable than paddling a kayak or canoe across an Adirondack Lake, with the combination of vigorous aerobic exercise, refreshing water, and Adirondack scenery all around. I had been enjoying my 50-pound Perception kayak for seven years, but found its weight a hindrance. Now as I glided effortlessly across the water toward Eagle Lake in my 11-pound, carbon-fiber canoe with the trademark red stripe running its length, I noticed John Collins, the erstwhile Chairman of the Adirondack Park Agency and Director of the Adirondack Museum approaching me in a small motorboat. Nodding appreciatively, he called out “nice boat!” as he passed. Gliding past The Hedges to my left, three attractive young ladies were paddling toward me from the historic resort. As they crossed my bow, the lead girl called out “I like your boat!” I noticed she was paddling a Hornbeck Lost Pond canoe, and realized that this Black Jack wasn’t just a well-designed vehicle to get me around the waters of the North Country; this was bling, Adirondack style! I realized I owed it all to Pete Hornbeck.

 

                Peter in his boat shop

 Pete, like so many other successful Adirondackers, is a man of many talents who had to re-create himself eighteen years earlier in order to make a living in this economically unforgiving area. A native of western New York State, he had earned a teaching certificate from the University of Buffalo before serving in the US Army during the Viet Nam War. After receiving postgraduate education at Geneseo in 1969, he began a 22-year career as an elementary school teacher at the Johnsburg Central School in North Creek, teaching kids ranging from eight to eleven years of age. But as far back as 1970 he had an almost instinctive interest in experimenting with the construction of small, lightweight boats. “When my Dutch ancestors came to this country,” he explained to me in the summer of 2009, “their name was changed from Hoonbeek to Hornbeck. Hoonbeek is Dutch for ‘village by the river’. I guess it’s in my blood.” He began experimenting with fiberglass, then Kevlar and later, carbon fiber- trying to create the perfect boat for the waters of the Adirondacks. It began as a hobby, then a part time career as his successes became known to the many avid paddlers in the area who were searching for the same ideal craft that he was. His life changed course abruptly in 1991 when he felt a pressure in his chest while jogging. “Go figure,” he recalls: “The only jogger in Olmstedville has a heart attack!” As it turns out, it was a blessing in disguise.

“Teaching was hard to beat,” he reflects. “You’ve got your summers off, and you’re working with kids whose minds are still open to all kinds of things. Being a part of the community and watching the kids grow up- that part was fun. But there was always something missing.” He took a medical leave of absence for a year, much of which time he spent in his boat shop. He rediscovered the reason he came to the Adirondacks in the first place- for its flowing water. “White water was always my big thing. I always wanted to live in the Adirondacks, and teaching started out as a means to an end. It became more than that, but having a heart attack at age forty-nine made me realize that I needed to make some changes in my life. The inflexibility of teaching rankled- I didn’t have time for anything else. Now I was enjoying the freedom- a lot!” He began building boats full-time, and it showed him what had been missing in his life- the need to create something with his own hands that he could share with others. He also discovered he could make a living doing it, which made everything in his life seem to fall into place.

                  Hard at work on St Regis Pond

His craftsmanship is not limited to his boat building; he is also a talented self-taught artist. Studying the technique of Winslow Homer, his watercolors could be mistaken for them, and reveal the depth of his connection to his surroundings. But his boats are what have made his name a legend in the Adirondacks. I already appreciated what they represented- a means of escaping the ordinary to experience the extraordinary. And with the distinctive red stripe along the sides, one could do it in style. “That red stripe was my wife’s idea”, Pete confessed. “One day Ann told me she didn’t like the way my yellow Kevlar boats looked. ‘They look like a urine sample!’ is how she put it. So I asked her what I should do about it, and she said ‘I think you should put a red stripe along the sides.’ The rest is history.”

Peter has carved out a small kingdom in Olmstedville, and Ann is unquestionably his queen. His two workshops, warehouse and guest cabin sit between his sales office and “Lake Inferior”, a small pond where customers can test-paddle his boats. His home and barn can be found elsewhere on the 100-acre complex, where he sponsors fund-raising parties and environmental conferences when he is not designing a new boat or working on a watercolor. He generously donates his canoes and artwork to worthy causes, while overseeing the production of approximately 400 boats every year. “…and I never get tired of seeing my boats around, people using them and enjoying life,” he admits. Over 5000 of his craft ply the waters of the world, as far away as Sweden. Yet he prefers to keep his business small and personal, with only five loyal employees and no plans to expand. “The way it is now, Ann and I can manage things without too much stress. I could easily expand, and wholesale my boats to other retailers. I could hire more workers, open another store or two and sell a lot more boats- but then it wouldn’t be fun anymore.” As it is, a visit to his shop on Trout Brook Road in Olmstedville is like a pilgrimage for those of us who appreciate what he does and how he does it. If there is such a thing as an Adirondack paddler’s boutique, his store is the model.

Peter is now so seamlessly entwined into the landscape he likes to paint that the name Hornbeck has become a trademark for what makes the Adirondacks such a special place. And all because of lifestyle changes triggered by a myocardial infarction. There’s a lesson in there somewhere- perhaps Peter Hornbeck’s teaching days aren’t through just yet!

               Pete admiring his handiwork on Little Clear Pond