For this hike in the Highlands on the east side of the Hudson River (across the river from West Point), find the Appalachian Trail (AT) crossing at the junction of routes 9 and 403 just north of Graymoor Monastery. Park along the roadside there as best you can, or park north of the old gas station complex along route 403.

Start your trek by heading west with the white blazes of the AT over the newly rebuilt (July 21, 2002) wetland boardwalk and onto an old woodland carriage path. When the AT bears steeply left uphill (your return route), stay straight on the gently rising carriage path, sparsely marked with yellow plastic discs. Turn left at the crossroads at the top of the first rise and bear left again later as you continue following yellow discs, until you notice a blue blazed path coming in on your left (your return route) with blue blazes also straight ahead. Stay straight on the cart path to pass a lovely cedar gazebo at a righthand curve, and then drop down to another 4-way junction. Straight across with the red plastic discs will take you up the very steep slope of Sugarloaf, named for its similarity to the cone shape of the sugar that used to occasionally grace the center of 18th century tables. This Sugarloaf was also supposedly the site of one of several Revolutionary War cannon redoubts commanded by General Israel Putnam of CT to watch over General Kosciuszko's "Great Chain" which stretched across the Hudson to prevent any further British attacks up river. Also at the northern base of Sugarloaf was the Beverly Robinson House where that infamous traitor, Benedict Arnold, was to have met with George Washington for breakfast on the very morning that he was almost caught "red handed" for delivering strategic West Point war plans to the British!

History aside, though, what also interests me in this area is the opuntia at the end of the red trail. It just always seems so amazing to me to see it up here where I'm not really expecting it to be. Perhaps it will surprise you, too. From the top of the rocky opuntia viewpoint, with a tall cedar at 210, Anthony's Nose around 230, and the middle of Bear Mt Bridge around 240, take about thirty steps at 255 to a large squarish sitting rock near an oak tree. Beneath the rock's SW corner, if you bring your own ink, you should be able to get a small stamped impression of opuntia as a memento of your excursion.

To return to your car, go back down the red disc trail, pass the cedar gazebo, and take the blue blazed trail south about a mile to the AT junction. You may want to continue south on the white blazed AT a bit to the White Rock Viewpoint which is also marked with blue blazes (especially if you have worked out some related mystery clues!) Otherwise, just turn sharply NW back down the AT to the original carriage road, turn right, then left, and "walk the planks" back to the highway.

Not long ago, Bruna, our 85-year old friend from church gave us another stamp to plant. It said "Good Luck" and she thought it was cute, so we didn't have the heart to tell her that some people don't like looking for bought stamps anymore. Instead, we assured her that we'd find it a good home whenever we could, and soon the occasion presented itself. We were heading to Canada for Memorial Day weekend for the "Rocks, Docks and Locks Gathering" in Kingston, Ontario, and, in looking for a place to camp on our way out, we noticed that one of the hikes from our "50 Hikes in the Adirondacks" book was called Good Luck Cliffs. Since it was only a short stretch out of our way heading north, we decided to plant her stamp at the associated lake, which was a mile or so closer to get to than the cliffs, and it had a designated campsite, too!

To find the boxes and the lake, drive north on route 10 about six miles from the intersection of 29A north of Caroga Lake, to the parking pullout on the east side of the road, just north of a bridge over the Sacandaga River. Directly across the road to the west, follow the trail to the lake that has the sign about camping in designated areas only. A half mile of easy walking will get you to the lake, which is quite pretty, although the campsite area itself is rather trashy. Just before you reach the lake you will see a large boulder to the right with a fire ring nearby. On its southern side, just west of two 3-foot high stumps, a small camo covered box for "good luck" resides under the boulder's bottom edge, covered with leaves, just inches from a small hemlock.

After you've found "good luck", head around to the other side of the boulder and find the little handcarved "lake" we added to be stamped under it - tucked in a film container behind the birch that is hugging the boulder, under a small stone and some leaves. Please rehide everything carefully so that campers in the area don't mistake it for trash! If you have time for exploring, you might want to take the other marked trail that leaves the parking area about 50 yards north of the one to the lake, and perhaps even leave a box there at Good Luck Cliffs, a 4.4 mile round trip reputed to be one of the finest short hikes in the Southern Adirondacks.

This lovely little mountain had been on our "to do" list in various old hiking guidebooks for decades, but somehow, until recent years, the long trails and high peaks had always taken precedence and grabbed more of our attention. Even when a letterbox was planted here by Jackbear a few years back, we still never managed to find time to make the long drive there to do the climb and to find the box before it went missing. Well, now perhaps this microbox can serve for awhile as an additional incentive for others to make the trek, although assuredly, the short (2 mile round trip) hike itself is its own sweet reward!

To locate the Adirondack mountain that we have listed here with its "Italian cognate" title, you could start by driving about 7 miles east from the small town whose name might make a catchy headline for a certain millionaire talk show host if he had been "canonized" and then took a mighty tumble in the popularity ratings! If approaching the mountain from this direction, you would turn right (south) on a road that is an "Italian translation" of the above box title. After about 3 miles of pavement, the road will turn to dirt. Continue on this same road about 4 more miles to a large parking area on the right (west).

Follow the well marked trail to the west picking up a stone or two from the big pile near the trailhead to take up with you to the lookout. This seems to be a very popular trail with some people going up and down the mountain several times just for their morning exercise! If, however, once is about enough for you, you could pretend that you are about to collapse, drop your rocks on the big pile before the lookout, then drop your weary bones on the large low flat rock that is right smack under the firetower, just a step or two north of the survey marker. Sitting there facing back down the trail you just came up, reach with your left hand under the low flat rock for a small stone tucked in there between the moss about 5 inches from the rock's northeast corner. (You should even be able to see it, if you walk around towards the north side of the firetower's legs and peek down there under the rock first, but please don't be obvious about it!) The tiny black microbox makes its home discreetly behind that small stone. Stamp in and rehide carefully. Then climb the tower, get your bearings for the other mountains, and, if you're there in late summer, enjoy the blueberries!

Those who have just found our "Montagna Azzurra" box will know exactly where to go for this next adventure. In fact, after suggesting to another "senior" (a lady from Canada doing multi-climbs for exercise) going "down the road" to climb a different mountain, we ended up hiking them both that morning, and just getting there can definitely be part of the adventure! If coming from the "Montagna Azzurra" parking lot, continue south down the main well-graded dirt road for about another 10 miles of cool wilderness terrain (negotiable by ordinary car in season, May-Oct) before the road reverts back to pavement and houses. Somewhere along the next six miles of hardtop, the road name apparently changed to something reminding me of a chocolate peanut butter factory, but I was totally unaware of that at the time and was only looking for a big brown trailhead sign on the right (south) side of the road with ample parking for quite a few cars.

Due to rerouting, apparently because of a private camp down the way, the trail now starts a couple hundred yards down the road at a kiosk on the right (west). I forgot to note exactly what the mileage is listed at now with the relocation, but the route to the top is probably about 3 miles of mostly moderate hiking, with just the last half mile or so being steeper and rockier.

Once you get to the top, you can no longer climb up the firetower here because the lower steps have been removed, but you won't need it to get phenomenal views because they are all around you anyway! However, to find the microbox, simply walk over to the firetower and stand on the rock in the middle beneath it, near the concrete pillar. Note the low-lying rock on a line halfway between two geodetic survey markers immediately to the south and SSW. The rock is only about 3 steps from either one. When no one is looking, check out the cubby hole under this rock's NE corner, behind two small stones, noting how the rocks are placed so you can replace them the same way when tucking back this microbox as you get ready for your return trip back down the way you came. Hope you feel like a "million"!

P.S. Rte 30 at the roadside Adirondack shelter is only about 2.5 miles further east, past a cute little Presbyterian church, if you wish to come in or leave via that famous outdoorman's college, and a nice visitors center with a lovely little butterfly garden is just 1 mile further north from there, too!

This little box was a spur-of-the-moment "afterthought" that I just couldn't resist putting in when I reached my 15,000th letterbox find on July 31st, 2007 near the eastern shore of beautiful "Tupperware Lake" in the heart of the Adirondacks! I had just spent several delightful days (and nights!) climbing mountains, visiting waterfalls, camping with the loons, and even attending a wonderful all day and night letterboxing gathering just north of the Adirondacks, wondering where and when I might be reaching my next big letterboxing milestone.

It seems I didn't have long to wait. That morning on the last day of July, I had climbed a few northern mountains to plant some new letterboxes, strolled through the trails and lovely little butterfly garden at the Adirondack visitor center north of Paul Smiths, and found a phone there to call Pete at work on his lunch break, thinking I'd probably be reaching F 15,000 later that afternoon atop Mt. Goodnow.

Well, plans change. It turned out a new letterbox had just been planted along my route to "Smores". Pete read me off the brief clue over the phone, so, naturally, after several other afternoon letterbox side trips, that new box became my 15,000th letterbox find! And as I "happy danced" my way back towards the car, my eyes lit up on a marvelous sight: a huge lopped-off pine tree still standing tall by keeping its mossy old contorted legs firmly rooted to earth around a great big rocky base!

Suddenly, surprisingly, I felt a tremendous sympathy for that vulnerable yet still venerable old pine, trying to keep its feet on the ground and its broken-off neck headed towards the heavens, despite odds seemingly being against it holding up any lofty standards! Essentially "lobotomized" by some cruel fluke of "Mother Nature", then left prey to opportunistic biting and chewing insects, gnawing and clawing rodents, and other such ravages, I did indeed sense a kinship with that tree. Having suffered various concussions, fractured spine, PTSD, and other head injuries, both as an abused child and later in life, I still tried for many years to keep my legs strong, my back straight and my head in the clouds, backpacking over 25,000 miles of long-distance mountain trails along the backbones of America, including 5 AT's, 3 PCT's, the CDT and much more! (and, of course, that mileage number would have to more than double if I counted all the miles I've hiked over the years with only a daypack, but those weren't the ones I was counting !)

Even now with my backpacking days long behind me, just like for that grand old tree still strangely and strongly attached to its rocky base, so too did those experiences long serve as my rock solid foundation. And even if the amount of hiking I am still able to do nowadays for letterboxing is only the teensy tiniest fragment of what I could once do in my backpacking days, at least I am glad to now have Pete as my "rock", since we met and got married on a rock rather late in life, and decided to hobble off into our golden years together!

But getting back to that gnarled old pine with the top knocked off of it, I think that is probably the way I would most like to be remembered when it comes my time to finally "keel over". Just like that tree, taking years and years of sparse and harsh conditions to attain its unusual growth patterns, stretching out its sinewy, convoluted legs in various directions in an effort to maintain its balance with a toehold on earth. Just like that tree, "vertically challenged" and without branches, having weathered many a storm, yet still holding its own, still uniquely imposing. And finally, just like that tree, subject to attack by any number of worms, gnats, termites and rats... nicked, gouged, carved and even stoned, judging by several pebbles poked into a hole right near where one knee of the tree sports a scraped scar of peeled bark. (I can just imagine what deep wound or ugly "critter cut" those small stones might conceal!)

Yes, it seems that there are even those who just can't wait for this tree to die and who would gladly take an axe to it! Some ("king-of-the-hill" types) simply don't want any tall trees in "their forest" at all! (not even "headless" ones that barely cast a shadow!:-) Others ("we're-all-equal" types), perhaps because they feel insecure with trees more than one standard deviation from the "norm", try to cut everything down to their own size or shape, to create pseudo-monoculture forests. Some ("flamers") have been known to target an extraordinary tree like this by spewing forth false allegations (like suggesting that it's a grotesque headless "wolf tree" that eats up little children and spits out their bones!:-), while others ("detractors") seem to think that if they go around trying to chip away or undercut an old tree like this, they will somehow make themselves bigger and the old tree smaller, but they too are only largely deluding themselves, for that wood be harder than they think!:-)

Seriously, though, old growth forests can topple or be toppled in various ways, but I think the saddest thing to see is when new growth advocates, with no respect or understanding for what might have been there before, simply go and "clear cut", or '"slash and burn", all the old growth to level the field and create a "dog hair forest"! Oh, sure, now there's plenty of room and sunshine for all kinds of new little seedlings to grow at breakneck speeds, some quickly pushing to crowd out others and replicate themselves, like bunches of birches or aspen clones, yet having nowhere near the character and dignity of some of those majestic old oaks or ancient bristlecone pines that once took long years of slow growth, often under conditions of great adversity, to attain their unique shapes before being cut down to make way for saplings!

So, sadly, in that great headlong rush for "logging" that has occurred in recent years, has our once marvelous old hobby of letterboxing been vastly undercut and devalued by the rapid new growth of the "dog hair forest", with its cooties, parasites, and other personal, postal and virtual infestations that simply did not exist in the old forest! Anyone who has experienced the old growth forest, before it got "logged" and chocked full of "drive-bys", "bugs" and "noxious weeds", will know what I'm talking about - the sense of adventure, beauty, charm and anticipation, as one wandered into the woods, wondering if a box was still there and if so, only then getting to have the pleasure or surprise of finding out who else might have visited! (We never dreamt in those earlier 'boxing days of spoiling someone else's fun by blabbing about when and where a box was found, and we still largely play the game in that same old original manner, so anyone wanting to find out which boxes we've visited will just have to go and see for themselves - no "guaranteed finds"!:-)

At any rate, we have been deeply saddened in recent years to see letterboxing turn away from its original focus on being an "Adventure with a stamp" (what I have dubbed an "Aws") to being a mere excuse for stamp collecting or swapping what I call "Swoa" ("Stamps without adventure"). We have even heard recently that there are some promoters of "logging" who, rather than fostering a decent normal growth of real plants, are actually encouraging newbies to produce and find more "Swoa" (even including stamp collecting gatherings, pub crawls, and "Swoa Halls of Fame" that are turning some of the newer letterboxers of the past few years into wild-eyed "stamp addicts"!) for which they should be ashamed, considering the cheapening and trivializing effect this has had on a once wonderful and respectable adventure hobby - or at least that's how it started out in this country!

Well, hopefully the tide may now finally be turning back towards the "Aws"! I see evidence of this most everywhere lately, as people eventually get "fed up" with "fast food finds", and start looking for things with more grace, value and sustenance. After all, in the end it is usually the adventure we tend to remember the most, not the stamp, and even one single "Aws" is generally more memorable than a whole cartload of "Swoa"! Otherwise, one could simply collect 15,000 stamp images without experiencing any sort of adventure at all, and what would be the point of that?

So, if there is anything I would like to be remembered for in letterboxing, it is that of the over 15,000 boxes that I have found, almost 95% of them have been truly "Aws"-ome!!! That's right, folks, in my F-count, there is not one single "virtual", as I simply do not consider that to be letterboxing. I also do not regard sending boxes back and forth in the mail as letterboxing (but I am glad to visit former "postals" and count them as finds after they are planted, as I try not to hold their former status against them!:-) We still basically count our finds in the "old style", by the box hunt, not by the number of stamps in it - as in one box I found recently containing 81 stamps, but which I still counted as only one find! As for personal travelers, tabletoppers, cooties, and suchlike "novelties" of recent years that simply did not exist in the greater portion of our earlier letterboxing experience, we only participate in that extraneous stamp excess if in the right mood to put in enough legwork both before and after an event to counteract their pernicious "fattening effects", and manage to keep our total percentage of "Swoa", including all those hitchhikers we still love finding out in the wild, hovering around 5%, thus still leaving 95% for those real "Aws" finds!

So, anyway, my friends, that is how this old tree stands! Perhaps it really is on its last legs, and won't be left standing much longer, but whenever you've had a truly awesome letterboxing adventure, please remember the legacy of the old growth tree, how it grew on good solid legs on a rock solid base . And if you ever have a chance to get up to "set sail" on "Tupperware Lake", please check out this special tree to see if it is still standing!!!

This is a microbox that I had planned to add after my 15,000th find, which ended up being #15,001! I had thought that there was going to be a bonus to that box, since it was listed as two, but there wasn't, so this is it! I've always loved the way Oliver Twist was brave enough to just come right out and say what he wanted ("Please, Sir ... I want some more."), not because he was greedy (as some folks are for stamps!), but because he was hungry (as some folks are for adventure!). So here's a little twist on that theme for those who just can't seem to get enough letterboxing adventures (or stamps!:-) and always want smores! (Just check the logbook under that old ranger station for smore smores right nearby!)

BEFORE YOU SET OUT, PLEASE READ THE WAIVER OF RESPONSIBILITY AND DISCLAIMER..

You can find information about this hobby at Letterboxing North America (LbNA)

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