I moved to Plattsburgh, in the North Country of New York, in August 2024 after more than 30 years in North Carolina. I didn’t move without some understanding of the area — for a while, I’d regularly visited Jill and spent time getting to know this part of the country. After living here for a little more than a year, I’m starting to understand a bit more. These are a few few observations and reflections.
New York geography is an impenetrable mystery to many people who don’t live here.
I’ve had this conversation a lot, particularly with friends in NC:
You live in NY? Where, Brooklyn?
No, Upstate.
Like, Syracuse/Ithaca/Buffalo?
No, that’s four hours southwest of us.
So, Albany?
No, that’s two hours south. We’re more of a suburb of Montreal.
You’re in Canada?
Almost, but no. We’re on Lake Champlain, next to the Adirondack Park.
So, way north!
Yeah.
New York is a huge state, with multiple, distinct regions. Up here, we live in the shadow of New York City and Albany. The people, scenery, politics, and cost of living differ wildly between the regions.
Yes, I knew about the snow before moving here.
Before moving, I’d been to Plattsburgh several times during the winter. And, I spent seven years living in western Michigan. So, I know snow.
Although it snows regularly (sometimes daily) during winter and spring, the white stuff rarely accumulates to the point that it’s a problem. Shoveling snow is no fun, but it comes with the territory, and I’m almost to the point of buying a snow blower. Problem solving by spending, right?
When enough snow piles up, a parking ban goes into effect. Strobe lights on street corners flash, and a call to the city is greeted with “A parking ban is in effect in the city of Plattsburgh. When the lights are on, the cars are gone.” Gone, because you either park off the street, so plows have full access, or you’re towed. On our dead-end street, the plows typically pass by twice before 10 am., keeping it clear. Here, it’s rare to find a road that has standing snow.
Last winter, I got around just fine in my Infiniti, which wasn’t optimal for winter driving. This year, I’m better prepared after buying the Unofficial Car of the North Country.
Think rural. Really rural.
There are vast stretches of the North Country where there’s no cell reception. Where you won’t find gas stations. Where you drive for miles and see mostly trees, mountains, and wind turbines. This is not a bad thing. Unless you forget to fill your gas tank for driving toward a remote destination.
However, don’t get the impression that we live in an off-the-grid cabin. Our weird-and-charming little home sits on a lovely street in the small town of Plattsburgh. We do have restaurants and culture and stuff.
Champy is real.
Champy is Lake Champlain’s resident monster. Don’t even start to tell me he doesn’t exist.
If you move here, you might want to learn French.
A lot of Québécois cross the border to shop, dine, and otherwise hang out. And Americans cross the border to do the same. Interstate signs in our area are bilingual, and Canadian flags are almost as common as US ones. Knowing some French isn’t necessary, but it helps.
Please don’t tell anyone how beautiful it is here.
Beautiful places attract crowds, who affect livability in predictable, not always positive ways. It’s gorgeous here, nestled between Lake Champlain and the Adirondack Park. Let’s keep it that way.