Memory can be an unreliable narrator. I realized this as I started on the trail up Hadley Mountain, where I found, instead of the wild, intimidating landscape I recalled from my last visit, 12 years earlier, somewhere welcoming and benign.
My first impression of this place, in the summer of 2005, was colored by its utter unfamiliarity to me—not just the trail itself, 20 miles from Lake George, but the entire Adirondack Park, whose existence I had only discovered a few months before.











