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EDGEWOOD, 1,787 feet above tide. There is a rattling saw-mill, and a chair-stock factory, with a few scattering private boarding houses. But Nature's setting will engage your attention more profitably. Until this point you have been on the eastern slope of the deep valley, with the Stony Clove creek and the old wagon road far below, and cascades, mills, little churches, schools and cottages at intervals, where a few acres of almost perpendicular meadows have been reclaimed from the relentless grasp of the great crag. The Notch itself is now just ahead, and the valley contracts suddenly as its throat is approached. The valley ends, or rather begins, just here with a broad open pool of water in which the picturesque margin of fallen and upright, dead and other green and,beautiful spruce trees are reflected. There is now a climb of 280 feet to reach the summit in the Notch, and the grade can no longer be evaded or trifled with. There is not much over a mile in which to make the ascent, and you feel, hear and see that it is up hill. But the engine "gets there" all right. You hear the whistle and bell which waken the echoes in unbending measure, and next you feel the brakes released as the train begins a gradual descent. You are in the Notch, with Hunter Mountain, 4,038 feet, and the second highest in the range, on the left, straight toward the sky , and Plateau
Mountain on the right, with a narrow strip of sky far above. The  track and the old wagon road are battling for space at the bottom of the gorge for a time; but the rocky and rooty road has the right of way by priority of possession, and it must be duly respected. The air is chill, and you reach for the overcoat and wraps which you have prudently brought with you to the mountains.
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Kaaterskill Jct.
