Cape Cod Reubens at the Leatherman's Cave

a history hike

As soon as I mention “The Leatherman’s Cave,” the BDSM club jokes start.

Then I casually mention that it is located in Pound Ridge, New York.

On Honey Hollow Road.

The jokes just write themselves. So I won’t bother. The real story of the Leatherman, who is neither a pocket multitool, nor a member of The Village People, is much more fascinating.

The Leatherman, whose real name is not verified, lived outdoors in the mid-to-late 1800s and traveled a regular circuit through Connecticut and New York, creating a path that took him over 350 miles a year, and brought him through certain towns like clockwork, every 34 days. He was named for his handmade leather clothing that allowed him to sleep rough through the harsh winters, using rock shelters that had been in use for centuries before the colonial era.

Heating his abodes with campfires, he was able to avoid losing digits to frostbite, although his face occasionally bore its scars; according to legend, only the blizzard of 1888 kept him from his timetable. He would appear at friendly homes who offered him food and eat on the porch, communicating mostly in grunts. He was believed to be of French extraction (or possibly Quebeçois) as a French-language prayer book was found on his body when he succumbed to mouth cancer in 1889.

I find it odd that no one on his route in the late 1800s spoke enough French to converse with him, but I take heart that he was fed and treated well, as a sort of local natural oddity. According to Wikipedia, the Leatherman was briefly institutionalized, but was released when found to have money in his pockets; despite having “no visible means of support,” as the constabulary—the moral descendants of fugitive slave catcher scum—like to use against people outside the control of the ruling class and their factories.

That such an individual still stirs our imagination a hundred and fifty years later speaks to something about how we live today, with all land privately owned or “public” yet banned from living on and off of it. The Leatherman, who some believe was named Jules Bourglay, reminds me of Bill Wasiowich, known as the “Last of the Pineys.” Made somewhat famous when he was interviewed by John McPhee for his news article and book The Pine Barrens, Mr Wasiowich rents land owned by a gun club that allows him to make a living. For a time he followed the Piney path of gathering sphagnum moss and other botanical finds for florists, which abound in the Pine Barrens of New Jersey, and hunting deer to stock his larder. Now he makes wreaths.

The phots I’ve shared in this post are from a recent trip to the cave, taken progressively closer to the rock shelter, and finally inside of it. The final one below is taken inside, looking out. On this sunny March day, the hike from the road was short and pleasant, and I wish I’d had more time to explore the Ward Pound Ridge Reservation. The area around it is becoming developed with rich people’s houses, much like many of my favorite hiking spots, with no parking for visitors who want to hike the public land. I pulled off the road and put my flashers on, and made my trip quick, in case someone called to have me towed.

It’s a decent climb, and you might need some fuel. Not far from here is the Blazer Pub of North Salem, which someone must have told me about. It’s a little hidden gem. I stopped in for a beer and their Cape Cod Reuben, which was quite satisfying. If you like battered cod on a sandwich in place of your corned beef, you should try one. Their fries are decent, too.

Vyx Starts the Mythpocalypse is out and thank you to all who have bought a copy. I still have signed copies for sale of all my novels:

Vyx Starts the Mythpocalypse - a rollicking road trip across a fantastical United States where folklore has been fracked into our future.

Blade of Dishonor, an adventure novel that MysteryPeople called “The Raiders of the Lost Ark of pulp paperbacks.”

Bad Boy Boogie and The Boy from County Hell, crime novels which Joe Lansdale called “hardboiled and poetic.”

Next month,

Hannah, the WanderFinder

will join me on a Pine Barrens adventure that will hopefully end with a meal at a greasy spoon. Stay tuned…

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