The trail into Great Camp Santanoni has long been my favorite cross-country ski outing in the Adirondacks. After making the trip again last week, I have no reason to change my mind.

It's a good hour and a half from Plattsburgh to Newcomb, where the trail begins. Much of the ride goes along the beautiful Blue Ridge Road. Just south of that road is pastured a domestic buffalo herd, an regional oddity that spices up the trip.

Clearly marked signs just west of the small village of Newcomb announce the approach to Santanoni. A right turn, a few twists and a bridge across the headwaters of the Hudson bring one to the gatehouse. Parking areas are a few yards farther ahead.

During the summer, a stop inside the gatehouse offers a nice introduction to Santanoni, the complex built by Albany banker Robert Pruyn near the end of the 19th century. This day, co-worker Linda Rivers and I donned our skis, passed by the onetime caretaker's home and came to the trailhead. One pair of skiers had signed in before us. This being a weekday, we had good reason to suspect there wouldn't be many others.

FARM OUTBUILDINGS

Despite the vagaries of recent weather, ski conditions proved excellent. Enough snow had fallen atop the thin crust left by the previous week's sleet to give us a pretty-consistent surface. Waxed for 30 degrees, my skis had no difficulty with the gradual ascent over the first mile of the trek.

At that one-mile point, we reached the farm complex. Many of the Great Camps strived for self-sufficiency. Santanoni's operation supplied the Pruyns and their guests, plus the camp staff; any surplus would have been sold locally. I've never seen a milk bottle labelled Santanoni, but I suspect a few exist somewhere in area attics or basements.

The building with stone columns fronting a large porch area served as a creamery. Beside it stood the Gardener's Dwelling.

Tucked back in the woods was a cozy home called the Herdsman's Dwelling.

There's a big void to the right where the main barn used to stand. Fire consumed the building in 2005, leaving quite a gap, not just physically but psychologically. On this day, snow covered the remaining floor and foundations, but the dairy's stanchions survive to mark the enterprise.

A DOWNY WOODPECKER

Leaving the farm area, we passed a compact fieldstone smoke house built into a gentle hill then continued the remaining 3.9 miles to Newcomb Lake. Generally, the going was easy enough to accommodate even the modest Nordic skier. Rises, when present, remained quite gradual. The trail is uniformly wide enough for two skiers to proceed side by side.

Evergreens dominate the forest, with the occasional regal pine standing as lord of the realm. The farther we went, the more birch trees we saw. There were some shaggy hickory trunks and plenty of aspen, too, their brown leaves still clinging to their branches. Winter-foliage depletion allowed glimpses of mountain contours in the distance -- and of a downy woodpecker plying his skills on a nearby tree.

Nearing our destination, we began to notice more cedar.

We encountered that couple who signed in ahead of us. Joining them was their enthusiastic Spinone, a breed of Italian bird dog. Lots of animal tracks had dotted the snow, but the largest, which we had conjectured might be even those of a small bear, belonged to the dog!