Childhood Memories Become Real Again at The Woods Inn

There is nowhere on earth that says summer to me like the Adirondacks—in my opinion, the most beautiful part of New York State, and factually the largest state park in the U.S. When I was growing up, my grandfather’s best friend had a camp on the Hudson River, a small hand-built cottage that saw more wet swimsuits and card games and laughter in a single season than most places see in a lifetime. We spent a week or two every year, and I read book after book in the hammock on the screen porch, swam until I was pruney in the icy cold river, watched meteor showers from the dock, learned to water-ski (sort of; I am rather spectacularly bad at it), and learned I love the smell of pine trees and dirt more than almost anything else.

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