I had hoped to get back to Canada sometime in the last year. I wanted to bring my family to Montreal and to some natural areas in Quebec and Ontario — maybe even visit the Maritimes for the first time. We got our son his first passport in preparation.
Oh well. I know that our continent and world have suffered much worse than I have in the last year. Canada will be there for us some other summer. No biggie.
I suppose the same could be said for Canadians who had plans to visit the Adirondacks. But when I asked journalist Stephen Leon to check in with some of them, he delivered a story that made me understand that the Adirondacks are more than just a one-time vacation for them. Some return to these mountains and lakes every year, religiously, just as a lot of Americans do.
As Stephen was working on the story, I recalled a friendly exchange with a Montreal man who had helped my son into a set of used skis at a Lake Placid ski swap a couple of years ago. I had caught only his nickname, and the fact that he was in town every winter weekend teaching young American skiers like my son. That was enough to ask around and learn his last name, which was enough for Stephen to locate and call him up north. He said half of his friends are Americans, thanks to his time in the Adirondacks. It’s just one guy’s story, I know, but it speaks to me about how communities of people, just like communities in nature, don’t stop at a line on a map.