Bushwhacker’s paradise
Some take the road less traveled.
The truly adventurous don’t even need a road.
In the Adirondacks this translates into bushwhacking, an eye-poking, pack-snagging, boot-sucking, map-and-compass romp into the wilds, boldly going where no person has gone before—or if they have, it’s easy to convince yourself otherwise.
In an age when everything explorable has been explored, bushwhacking satisfies modern souls that channel Magellan, Drake and de León. At its most hard-core, it’s a game of wits, determination, stamina and sheer cussedness. It also satisfies that most basic of human instincts, curiosity.
For all the millions of acres of state land in the Adirondack Park, the number who willingly prowl off-trail in the backcountry is miniscule. “There really is no bushwhacking community,” said Spencer Morrissey, an outdoor author and Adirondack bushwhacking legend, who has climbed 1,000 peaks without the aid of trails. “I can count on two hands the people who are really into it. It’s a love-it-or-leave-it kind of thing, and only a select few come back for more.”
Tangled topography
Bushwhacking in the Adirondacks is different and more challenging than in most other parts of the country, said Jack Drury, who as an
