Flanagan's Pub & Grill
1067 Main St. (US 9)
Schroon Lake, NY 12870
Phone: 518 532 9096
Schroon Lake is a small Adirondack town just north of Lake George. The village sits on the west side of the lake on Route 9, which prior to the construction of the Adirondack Northway, was the only way to get anywhere. Now many of the businesses along Route 9 – road houses and motels that catered to northbound vacationers - are long abandoned. The east side of Schroon Lake is really off the beaten track; electric service is not available in some areas. Some of the east shore houses have no road access either, the only access is from the lake by boat, or snowmobile in winter. The lake itself is ten miles long, less than half the size of its more popular and more populous neighbor to the south. It does not enjoy the tourism that Lake George gets, or the boat traffic. There are no tee shirt shops or fast food outlets. We like it that way. In the summer months the population goes from 1,700 to 5,100 from the influx of seasonal residents. After Labor Day you could play Monopoly in the middle of Route 9 at 10 PM and you would probably have a winner before the first car came by. Its a quite place. We like that.
What we do have in Schroon Lake is Flanagan's Pub and Grill, or as we regulars call it, just Flanagan's. The restaurant has one of the two liquor licenses within the village proper, the second belonging to the Timberwolf Pub, two doors down from Flanagan's. The town sported sixteen liquor licenses in its heyday during the 40's and 50's. Now there are two. I haven't been in the Timberwolf in years. Something about the place reminds me of a really nice finished basement, with lots of highly polished tongue in groove pine. Flanagan's, at least to me, has much more character with natural bark - on log accents and rustic furniture. And it has Penny.
Penny Edenfield runs the place. It seems like she has been there forever, but it's actually only been a decade or so. The pub itself has been there forever, or at least as long as anyone can remember. Unlike many of the local shopkeepers, Penny was not born and raised in the Adirondacks. She hails from Savannah, and sports a Georgia drawl as thick as honey to remind you. She is also born to do what she does. She puts the hospitable in hospitality. Every guest gets the same “Hi, Hon!” as they walk through the door.
Places like Flanagan's occupy a special place in small communities. It is primarily a social gathering spot – part tavern, part lunch counter, with “family” dining room out front. It is the “Cheers” of Schroon Lake, where everybody knows your name. Every year something gets added or upgraded. New bar stools last winter. A new moose head and lighting the year before. Some new booths for the dining room. New high-tops for the Friday night pre-movie pizza and chicken wing crowd. Like many establishments that were primarily taverns twenty years ago, Flanagan's now serves more food than liquor. They have to because the tavern business is history. The dining room now caters to families and vacationers looking for a reasonably priced meal in a casual atmosphere – a cup of homemade soup, fried chicken or fish, calamari, hamburgers and sandwiches, and surprisingly good pizza, which is our choice more often than not.
Flanagan's also serves as the unofficial club house for the snow mobile crowd in winter, and the boating crowd in the summer. Snow mobiles can access the pub from the lake most years after the ice sets in January. In summer the boating crowd has a block to walk from the town docks to get to a cold beer. When I first showed my face in Flanagan's it was primarily a beer only crowd. As the weekenders and summer residents began to outnumber the “locals” - at least during the summer - a few wines were added. Wine glasses came later. Then martinis. Progress comes slowly in these parts. This summer a frozen drink machine found a new home at the end of the bar.
Bar seating is highly choreographed. Locals – and there is a strict definition of “local” - sit, or more often stand, at the end of the bar near the dining room. Penny's husband Doug has first dibs on the corner spot. Next come the “locals”, who are allocated their own personal space near the corner at appointed times during the afternoon. At the opposite end, below the salt so to speak, near the juke box and the tee shirt display, you will find the visiting tourists who stopped in for a hamburger or a sandwich and a beer. The weekenders - flatlanders from south of Albany who might actually be regulars but will never, ever be “locals” - sit somewhere in the middle of the bar. If there are no locals present, we may slide down near Doug, but we know our place and surrender the seats if the rightful owners should make an appearance. It is as it should be. We are just happy to be here.
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