Years ago, when I ran across a place called “Coot Hill” during one of my deep dives into local newspaper archives, I gave a little giggle and stashed the info in the quirky-names file I keep in a half-forgotten part of my brain. (For another example see “Bungtown or Bust,” from our February 2014 issue.)
But then the tiny outpost, which is snuggled in the highlands between Port Henry and Crown Point, kept popping up in my research. Given that the topics I favor tend toward the naughtier side of old-timey Adirondack life, I noticed that a good many members of the Coot Hill community—back in the day, anyway—seemed to attract
