Hiking Nuclear Lake: Seen and Unseen
September 8, 2018 by bbachman
Based on aerial imagery, the building in which the larger of two explosions occurred was located near the shore on the left of this frame. The plutonium dust would have burst out of windows on the the north side, away from the location where this photo was taken.
In the absence of a name, Nuclear Lake is just another body of water along the Appalachian Trail, its gentle waves and secluded, forested shore inviting hikers of all distances to pause for a moment of repose. Northbound hikers embark onto this section of the trail from Route 55, which was designed to streamline and accelerate traffic over the hills. Hurtling police cars and full school buses serve as a jarring disruption of wildness, insofar as the surrounding forests and their non-human inhabitants have been left undeveloped, at least in recent years.
Though hikers might find refuge in the isolation offered at the lake, over a mile from Route 55, this same isolation played a role in securing Nuclear Lake’s dubious name. The trimmed, grassy meadows on the west side of the lake are innocuous enough, scarcely different from any other open field in the region, and yet; there is a certain way of responding to nuclear incidents. It involves removing all evidence, all threat of much-feared radiation.
On the west side of the lake to the north of the former nuclear site numerous felled trees hinted at possible storm damage. Underneath upturned root bolls, bedrock was visible within several feet of the surface, one reason why the trees were particularly vulnerable to toppling over.
In the mid-1950s, Nuclear Lake was selected to house a uranium and plutonium laboratory because the experiments being conducted there would be well guarded, in part by limited accessibility and distance from prying eyes. Almost 20 years later, in the early 1970s, the facility was rocked by two accidents in which plutonium dust burst from storage, the second time exploding through two windows and into the air. If company officials are to be believed, the operation shut down in 1973 because “business had not developed as expected” (1). Soon after, the land came into consideration for use in the Appalachian Trail corridor.
Trail developers were attracted to Nuclear Lake again for its isolation. Through much of Dutchess County, the Appalachian Trail had been routed on public roadways, which made it unattractive to non through-hikers. Nonetheless, outcry from residents and trail users stalled efforts to reroute the trail past Nuclear Lake for fear of radiation. Eventually, decontamination measures and investigations into suspected radioactive waste at the lake bottom (2) were brought to term and the area was deemed safe for light use, as it remains today.
The name Nuclear Lake is veiled in the mystery of its past. Fear of radiation might tell people this is a place not to linger, not to swim, and not to camp, but nature has shown itself ready and raring to take back what humans have left behind.
With a dam at its outlet, Nuclear Lake is clearly artificial. According to the New York Times, the nuclear site on the lakeside was preceded by a charcoal production operation (1). Numerous stone walls criss-crossing the trails around the lake offer evidence of even older agricultural land-use. The white bar in the bottom left of this frame appeared to be a water-level gauge on closer inspection.
Additional References:
(2) https://search.proquest.com/docview/1554264873?pq-origsite=summon