One of my goals in the second year of this column is to spend a lot more time outside. Everyone needs a break from the Big Ideas and Buffalo politics and development we normally discuss on this site, and the hereto ignored environmental beat speaks to my inner Naturalist. Alan has his cars, Chris has technology and old movies, and Colin has . . . well I don’t know, because everything in his corner is racial identity politics and The Rich White Man keeping us down. I’m sure he has something, if one looked hard enough. I have backpacking, kayaking and biking through the outdoors.
A Connecticut-based friend of mine and I had a problem familiar to many Buffalonians: finding a good spot equidistant between us to meet up and enjoy eachother’s company. Halfway between Buffalo and NYC, Boston or Hartford is Cooperstown, the Saranac Brewery in Utica, and not much else. So may I suggest the Buffalonian agree to drive the extra bit, and plan a trip to the Southern Adirondacks instead.
New Yorkers are blessed to enjoy not just some of the best urban spaces in the world, but also some of the best wild. The High Peaks region of the Northern Adirondacks (more on them in a couple weeks) - Lake Placid, Saranac Lake, and the areas one typically thinks of for a trip to the ‘Dacks – are a mere six hour drive east and north (in that order). And while they are certainly not as tall, the Southern Adirondacks are a mere four hour drive door-to-door, and offer no less of a genuine Adirondacks experience.
My friend and I chose Good Luck Lake to make our camp and drink whiskey by the fire. Take the NY Thruway to the old Beech-Nut Factory in Canajoharie, make a left, and the follow New York Route 10 north, climbing out of the Mohawk Valley and into the rolling southern foothills of the Adirondacks. Caroga Lake offers last minute staples and a greasy spoon diner for breakfast and lunch if you need to fill your belly before living off camp rations. From there it is just another 10 minute drive north to the Good Luck Lake trailhead.
The couple mile jaunt to the camp sites on the lake’s southern shore is not a great feat worthy of pioneering exploration accolades. But the wonderful thing about a trip to the Adirondacks is that the boondocks get wild (if not pristine) in a hurry, and you may forget you are still in New York.
The namesake cliffs of Good Luck Mountain
Setting up camp on Good Luck Lake (named for the fortuitous end result of an explosive firearms accident, not the ease of fishing) allows a convenient basecamp for further exploration. Within several miles of relatively easy hiking one finds that satisfying mix of wood, water and stone that is the hallmark of the Adirondack experience.
The Good Luck Cliffs are an intense 700 foot ascent in a very short linear distance, but the payoff is regular and rewarding. I have found trips to the nearby Allegany Mountains often end in disappointment; the peaks are rounder, the rock more hidden, the streams muddier, and the views smothered in unending second growth forest. While hiking the Finger Lakes Trail is enjoyable esoterically – content with the knowledge that you are seeing a tiny bit of a much larger whole – in that section it does little to lighten the spirits of the heavily laden backpacker from footstep to footstep.
Not so Good Luck Mountain. The trail follows a brook that actually babbles down a boulder strewn gorge. Caves are formed from overhanging rock along the path, and the short needle pine grows directly out of the moss covered granite. The trail hides along the (only comparatively) more gradual north side, and then dramatically summits to present its view to the west and south, wild Spectacle Lake in the foreground, and the blue misty Mohawk Valley further on.
If at that moment that far pond doesn’t call your name, draw you in, tug at your blood and demand you explore further, then I’m not sure what help there is for you.
Spectacle Lake from the Good Luck Cliffs
The trip to Spectacle Lake is just a quick climb over the rise that breaks the watershed, and then down the stream that feeds it. The close shore is marshy, pure, and feels far more remote than the map would indicate. Deliciously inconvenient for boaters to access, the lake is a flat mirror for the Canada Geese to walk on, and you stand alone and just breathe.