Latest news with #AdirondackPark
Wall Street Journal
03-07-2025
- Wall Street Journal
The Ultimate American Summer Adventure? Exploring the Adirondacks by Canoe.
A few summers ago, my friend Matt Strauss invited me up north to what his family calls Camp. His great-great-grandparents staked out the rustic lakeside retreat around the turn of the last century in the southwest part of New York's Adirondack Park. I was thrilled, though the region was entirely mysterious to me. Intimidating, even. I've returned each year since and grown marginally more at ease in Matt's small, secret corner of the Adirondacks. It helps to know somebody who's walked those woods his whole life. But what about the visitor who doesn't?
New York Times
29-05-2025
- Health
- New York Times
The Hiker Who Couldn't Be Found
Millions of people visit New York's Adirondack Park each year. Many come to hike. When someone gets lost or hurt in the vast mountain wilderness, state forest rangers, who conduct hundreds of searches annually, roll into action. Almost all of the missions, including those with lives clearly at stake, end successfully. But on May 10, a hiking party found human remains off an Adirondack Mountains trail. An autopsy confirmed that they belonged to Léo Dufour, a 22-year-old Canadian university student and experienced hiker whose disappearance more than five months earlier set off an all-out search. It is not yet clear how he died, leaving a mystery: How did such a hardy young man become the rare hiker to vanish and die in the Adirondacks? Whatever happened, it was a reminder that every hiker is always as little as 'one badly sprained ankle away from a serious situation,' said Mark Scott, the owner of Great Range Mountain Guides in the Adirondacks community of Elizabethtown, N.Y. Mr. Dufour arrived in Newcomb, N.Y., on Friday, Nov. 29, to make the roughly 18-mile round trip to the Allen Mountain summit and back in a day. The hike can take four hours or more each way. He was expected home — to Vaudreuil-Dorion, a Montreal suburb — by Saturday night. Allen is one of the 46 High Peaks in the Adirondacks, those with summits at elevations of at least 4,000 feet. It is not the highest, but it is probably the most remote — a long, flat approach for seven miles or so and then a mile and a half of steep climbing on a rough trail. Hiking solo at any time has its risks, but late November 'is definitely a dicey time to go out, because the situations can be so different from the start to the finish,' said Tony Goodwin, the longtime, now retired, executive director of the Adirondack Trail Improvement Society. Mr. Dufour was slightly built, at 5-foot-7 and about 150 pounds, but he was no rookie. He had been to the top of 32 High Peaks, putting him well on his way to becoming a 46er: someone who has summitted them all. He memorialized each summit reached with panoramic videos posted on his social media accounts. But something went wrong this time. When he was overdue coming home, his father contacted the authorities. What followed was an extraordinary search involving 59 rangers scouring hundreds of rugged backcountry miles in deep snow and frigid temperatures for more than a week. That Sunday morning, Dec. 1, the State Police found Mr. Dufour's snow-covered car near a trail that leads to the Allen trailhead. A trail register showed that he had signed in with a one-day hike planned. He was the only person to sign in that day. When he set out, he had on La Sportiva hiking boots, a black Arc'teryx coat, black shell pants, a tan winter hat and reflective sunglasses. His gear also included a North Face backpack, snowshoes, ice cleats, extra clothing layers, mittens, an iPhone, a headlamp, a phone charger, a stove and noodles. His equipment suggests he was not unprepared for the hike he had planned and underscores how unusual it is that he wound up in mortal danger. Rangers found a set of tracks leading from the car toward the summit. It was one of a few fleeting clues, and of little help. Snowfall had made the tracks impossible to follow. Two backcountry outposts equipped with wood stoves and warming tents were set up for the rangers. State Police helicopters delivered supplies, carried searchers up the mountain and conducted aerial surveillance using infrared technology as the weather allowed. Charlie Wise, who owns the Mountaineer outdoor equipment store in Keene Valley, N.Y., said the rescue had seemed to be much bigger than those he had witnessed before. 'They took every bit of freeze-dried food that we had in the building,' and then came back and stocked up again, he said. As the search proceeded and additional rangers were brought in from other parts of the state, Mr. Wise and his staff outfitted them with head-to-toe gear. The rangers searched in shifts for more than eight days, exploring nearly 400 miles of dangerous terrain at steep elevations: tight drainages, thick forest, cliff ledges and swampy lowlands. Temperatures fell below zero. The wind was fierce. At times, searchers were swimming in chest-deep snow. Erich Horn and John Rusher IV, rangers who are usually stationed in the Catskill Mountains, were among those brought in to help. They discussed the conditions on 'Inside the Line: The Catskill Mountains Podcast' in February. 'The weather was atrocious,' Ranger Horn said. 'We were getting absolutely dumped on with snow. Thirty, 40, 50, up to 60-mile-an-hour winds. Whiteout conditions almost nonstop.' Mr. Dufour's last known location was near the Allen summit, his destination. Searchers found his water bottle above 3,500 feet, and detected two spots on the hike where his cellphone had been. Everything else was unknown. Was he injured in a fall? Did he stray from the trail after becoming disoriented because of hypothermia? Did he simply miss a turn? On the search's eighth day, with little hope left of finding him alive, rangers had to divert their attention to rescue a man who had crashed his car after driving from Quebec to look for Mr. Dufour, the Adirondack Explorer website reported. The next day, Dec. 9, state officials said the search was shifting from rescue to recovery mode, and that the active effort was being suspended because of 'treacherous conditions.' 'It is no longer safe for anyone to continue searching using the methods and strategies in place since Dec. 1,' the Department of Environmental Conservation said. Months passed. Winter turned to spring. The snow melted away. And then the hikers made their morbid discovery. Mr. Dufour's family could not be reached for comment, but confirmation of his death landed hard with those who had become invested in his plight. That was especially so in his native Quebec, even among people who did not know him but shared his love of hiking New York's mountains. Kimberley Marin never met Mr. Dufour, but she is an avid hiker who lives in Montreal and they had a mutual acquaintance. Ms. Marin had prayed for his safe return as she followed the story of the search. How did she feel when she learned his body had been found? 'Just being asked the question, I feel like crying,' she said. Mr. Dufour had been studying to become a teacher. He had an internship during the 2023-24 school year at Ecole Cité-des-Jeunes in his hometown, where his mother also taught, said Chayi Beaulieu, a social worker at the school that year. Ms. Beaulieu described Mr. Dufour as 'vibey' and 'laid back.' 'All the kids loved him,' she said. Andréanne Villeneuve-Dubuc got to know him at a different school, École Saint-Thomas, in Hudson, Quebec, where he filled in for the regular gym teacher at the end of the year. Ms. Villeneuve-Dubuc, a special-education teacher, said Mr. Dufour had 'a special kind of presence. You wanted to be around him.' A hiker herself, she called it 'a beautiful, soul-nourishing sport, but one that requires vigilance.' As a tribute to Mr. Dufour, Ms. Villeneuve-Dubuc plans to hike Mount Mansfield, Vermont's highest mountain. It was something they had talked about doing together. 'I'll carry him with me every step of the way,' she said.
Wall Street Journal
23-05-2025
- General
- Wall Street Journal
‘The Nature of the Place' Review: In the Wild Adirondacks
'The trouble with people today,' the Adirondack guide Les Hathaway (1862-1952) said, 'is they're so busy coverin' ground they ain't got time to notice what's on the ground they're coverin'.' It's an apt thesis and call to inaction for Edward Kanze, an appreciator of the inner workings of Adirondack ecosystems. Mr. Kanze is a seventh-generation son of these mountains, his forebears having occupied the area for more than 200 years. He homesteads with his wife, Debbie, and two children in a highly permeable home, which he heats with wood he cuts and splits himself. The wildlife Mr. Kanze has observed inside his home includes mice, shrews and an ermine he describes as 'an animated sock scooting around on the floor.' In 'The Nature of the Place,' Mr. Kanze catalogs the wildlife of the Adirondack region. He mourns the modern absence of wolves, lynxes and wolverines yet treats lesser-known animals, such as the bog lemming, with gusto. He advises naturalists to note the color of rodent droppings, which are generally dark. 'When green ones turn up, you can be pretty sure they're the effluent of bog lemmings.' Looking not only for vole droppings but for bright green ones—a good exercise in noticing. The author is thirsty for wildlife encounters, always looking to expand his knowledge through direct contact. A captive porcupine at a nature center where he once worked 'made a poor exhibit animal because it avoided human contact, except with me,' the author recalls. 'Late at night, before going to bed, I'd visit the porcupine's outdoor cage. At the sound of my voice, the porker would burst out of its den or stop whatever it was doing, climb the cage's wire screening, and offer me its soft, quill-free belly. I would scratch it while the porkie grunted with delight.'
