04/25/2026
Why New York? Take a take deep breath; look at these photos carefully and slowly. No buildings, no cars, no other hikers but for a small group of friends.
The mountains aren't so high here. But that doesn't matter much.
Once, after a trip to the French Alps, I went camping in the Catskills. I hiked all day, over 20km, and only broke out of the tree line once. Each break was just a window, framed and pinched by knots of weathered trees. But the vista below? Tremendous. The woods dropped and buckled into valleys, then wiggled and hopped, mounting further, farther peaks.
I wondered why that view was so striking, when many, myself probably included, would rather choose higher ones. The answer was hidden in the clouds that day - on the horizon, they formed the likenesses of great, grey peaks. Squinting, with a blurred vision, I could imagine them to be the 8,000m giants of the Himalaya. And, if they were, I would certainly not be looking at the woods nor the valley, at least probably not have given them much more than a perfunctory scan, before finally resting my gaze on the summits.
Higher summits often become greater distractions. Harriman State Park, just an hour and half's train away from Manhattan where these photos were taken, at a truly pathetic, unremarkable, and wholly shameful highest revelation elevation of just above 400m, reminds me of that.
There is nothing especially remarkable about Harriman, except for the rolling woods, the scent of wet soil and pine, the mother deer guiding her young, waves of youthful fern, and the laughter of friends without phones around a campfire.
Which is to say, you may go quest the world, spar with the bucket list, dream for more, but you can't beat the blessing of a backyard. Keep looking, of course, go far and adventure, but don't consume what social media feeds you at the cost of going blind.
