Rondout Reservoir

Before the water came, this was a settled Catskill valley with a life of its own. Three hamlets shared it: Lackawack toward the east, Montela in the middle, and Eureka to the west, along with scattered farms and mills that had worked the land for generations. All told, more than a thousand people lived here, some in families that had held the same ground for a hundred years.

In the 1920s and 1930s, New York City looked to the Catskills for clean water it desperately needed, and this deep, narrow valley was chosen to be dammed and flooded. Over roughly two hundred and fifty families were bought out and forced to leave. Many felt they were paid far less than their homes and land were worth, and there was little they could do about it. It was a hard, one-sided bargain made in the name of a distant city most of them would never see.

What happened next still startles people. To keep the future drinking water pure, everything in the valley was stripped away, not just the buildings but the fences, the trees, the hedges, even tall weeds and the roads themselves. And because nothing could be left to foul the water, the bodies in the valley's eight cemeteries were carefully dug up and moved to higher ground. Then the dam was closed and the water slowly rose over the bare, scraped earth where the villages had been.

Construction stretched from the late 1930s into the 1950s, a huge undertaking of dam, spillway, and deep tunnels bored through solid rock. Water began flowing to the city in the early 1950s, and the last work wrapped up a few years after that. The engineering was on a scale the quiet valley had never seen, and it tied this remote Catskill hollow directly to the daily life of millions of strangers downstate.

The reservoir became the hub of the Delaware system, taking in water from other reservoirs deeper in the mountains and feeding it into the long Delaware Aqueduct, one of the longest tunnels of its kind anywhere. Half of everything New York City drinks passes through here on its way south. It is an odd and humbling thing to realize, gazing across the still surface, that this remote lake is one of the reasons a city seventy-five miles away can turn on a tap.

Because this is protected drinking water, the reservoir is not a swim-and-boat lake. There is no swimming and no recreational boating, and much of the shoreline is off limits to keep the water clean. But that same protection is exactly what keeps it so quiet and unspoiled, an unhurried counterpoint to the busier corners of the Catskills.

The best way to take it in is the drive. State Routes 55 and 55A form a lightly traveled loop around the whole reservoir, with several safe pull-offs where you can stop and look out over the water and the ridges beyond. Near the eastern dam you are standing roughly where Lackawack used to be, a good place to feel the weight of the story. A local museum in the valley even offers a driving-tour guide that points out the historical and scenic stops along the way.

For anglers, the reservoir is one of the region's rewards. It is stocked with lake trout and brown trout, and smallmouth bass are caught here too. Fishing is allowed, but only with both a New York State fishing license and a free New York City access permit arranged ahead of time, so plan before you go rather than deciding on a whim at the water's edge.

The closest Boutel™ stays, so you can turn this stop into an overnight. Each is an independently owned, editorially selected place to stay.