133 Years of Adirondack Park: A Wild Legacy Still Unfolding

On October 2, 1535, French explorer Jacques Cartier arrived at the Iroquoian village of Hochelaga—today’s Montréal. Guided to the summit of a nearby hill he named Mont Royal (giving Montréal its name), Cartier looked southward over a vast wilderness. In his journal, he wrote, “on reaching the summit we had a view of the land for more than thirty leagues round about. Towards the north there is a range of mountains, running east and west, and another range to the south.” Those distant southern peaks, seen clearly beyond the great river, were likely the Adirondack High Peaks. It was Europe’s first recorded glimpse of this region, and it planted the earliest seed of its legend.

Long before Cartier’s arrival, those same mountains were deeply familiar to Indigenous peoples. To them, the Adirondacks weren’t distant or unknown—they were home. When Cartier reached Mont Royal, more than a thousand Huron (Wendat) villagers gathered to welcome him. Their presence was a clear reminder that these lands already held a long and vibrant human history. The view Cartier found so striking—dense forests, endless water, soft blue ridgelines—was the same one that Indigenous communities had cherished for generations.

Indigenous Trails and Seasonal Life in the Adirondacks

Evidence confirms that Native peoples used this region extensively for generations. The Adirondacks were a seasonal homeland and a corridor of travel and trade for both Iroquoian and Algonquian-speaking nations. The Mohawk (Kanien’kehá:ka) and Oneida of the Haudenosaunee considered the area part of their territory, while the Mahican and Abenaki traveled into these mountains from the east, following the Hudson Valley and northern forests from Vermont and Quebec

While year-round settlements in the High Peaks were rare due to winter conditions, families traveled through the uplands regularly. Fishing, hunting, and foraging took place in the warmer months, with portage routes and river corridors linking the landscape. Recent archaeological finds suggest even greater reach. Near Lake Colden, over 2,700 feet in elevation, Dr. Tim Messner uncovered flint flakes that point to Indigenous hunting activity deep in the High Peaks—possibly following caribou or other game, as hunters did in similar terrain elsewhere in North America.

Two dugout canoes found in Twin Ponds tell more of this story. Built with traditional tools and techniques, these canoes show that Indigenous communities used upland waterways in meaningful, long-term ways. One of them may be 400–500 years old, making it the oldest known watercraft found in the uplands. Its weight and construction suggest it wasn’t just a temporary vessel, but something used repeatedly in the same area.

Oral histories affirm this presence. Abenaki descendants have said that the High Peaks—including Mount Marcy—were once called the "White Mountains." What we know today as Indian Pass was previously named "The Great Adirondack Pass," a title that honored the region’s original stewards. Even the name "Adirondack" comes from this heritage.

“Bark Eaters”: The Origin of Adirondack

The very name “Adirondack” reflects this Indigenous history. It derives from a Mohawk word, thought to be Hatírōntaks or Ha-de-ron-dah, which roughly means “tree-eaters” or “bark-eaters.” It was originally a Mohawk term referring to their Algonquin rivals who wintered in the mountains and, in lean times, ate tree bark for sustenance. (Tellingly, the Mohawk word for porcupine – a creature that gnaws bark – is very similar.) Some might even think this refers to a beaver. What began as a humble epithet passed between Native peoples was eventually bestowed on the land itself by outsiders.

By the 19th century, Euro-American scholars and explorers had latched onto the word. In 1838, New York State geologist Ebenezer Emmons led a survey expedition into these wild mountains and officially named them the “Adirondacks”. Emmons and his party were awed by the rugged peaks (he himself would summit the highest, Mount Marcy, in 1837), and this once-derisive nickname became formalized as the proud identity of the range. The “Adirondacks” entered maps and literature, a lasting acknowledgement of the First Peoples’ presence and their resourcefulness. But even as romantic notions of wilderness grew, another drama was unfolding: the fight to save these forests from ruin.

From Wilderness to Park: The Fight to Save the Adirondacks

By the mid-1800s, the Adirondacks were under siege. Logging, mining, and fire damage threatened to erase the forests. Massive pine, spruce, and hemlock stands were clearcut, and the resulting erosion filled rivers and lakes with silt. Downstate cities began to feel the effects. Verplanck Colvin, who spent decades mapping the region, raised alarms in 1873. He warned that deforestation was disrupting the water systems that fed the Erie Canal and advocated for preserving the Adirondacks as a park for New York—much like Yosemite was becoming for California.

Momentum built. In 1885, New York State created the Forest Preserve in the Adirondacks and Catskills, declaring state-owned lands to be “forever kept as wild forest lands.” A commission was formed to oversee protection efforts. Then, in 1892, the Adirondack Park itself was created. A Blue Line was drawn around six counties—Hamilton, Herkimer, St. Lawrence, Franklin, Essex, and Warren—defining a protected region for public use and watershed preservation. This was a revolutionary idea at a time when land was generally seen as a resource to extract, not protect.

“Forever Wild”: A Radical Promise

Two years later, in 1894, New York hosted a Constitutional Convention. To the surprise of many, the delegates introduced and passed the “Forever Wild” clause. It stated that the Forest Preserve lands “shall be forever kept as wild forest lands. They shall not be leased, sold or exchanged…nor shall the timber thereon be sold, removed, or destroyed.” Voters approved the clause that November, and its language became Article XIV of the state constitution.

This one sentence transformed conservation in the U.S. It made the Adirondacks one of the first regions in the world where wilderness was protected not just by law, but by constitution. The clause has survived decades of challenges from developers, loggers, and political pressure. Its legacy inspired national legislation like the Wilderness Act of 1964. By 1912, New York clarified that all lands—public or private—within the Blue Line were considered part of the Park.

The Park Today: Wilderness and Community

The Adirondack Park spans six million acres, making it the largest protected area in the continental U.S. Nearly half is public Forest Preserve; the rest is private land, home to over 100 communities and 130,000 residents. There are no gates, and no entrance fees—just a living patchwork of towns, farms, and forests.

Roughly 1.2 million acres are classified as Wilderness, where nature is left largely untouched. Another 1.3 million are Wild Forest, with trails, roads, and snowmobile access. Over 200,000 acres of forest have never been logged. Within this vast landscape are more than 3,000 lakes, 30,000 miles of rivers and streams, and countless species of wildlife. The Park sees 10 to 12 million visitors a year, yet it still offers deep, uninterrupted solitude.

133 Years Later: Keeping It Forever Wild

Stand on a summit in fall and you’ll see what generations have protected—crimson forests, quiet valleys, and waters winding through old-growth. The Park still looks much like it did centuries ago, thanks to those who fought for its future. That protection didn’t happen on its own. It came through decades of work—from the lawmakers who wrote the Forever Wild clause to today’s volunteers teaching Leave No Trace. The pressures haven’t stopped: climate change, invasive species, and high visitation continue to challenge what’s been preserved. Now, it’s our turn to carry that legacy. Every action matters—sharing the Park’s story, packing out trash, speaking up for what matters. At Hike ADK, our goal is to connect people to this place and its history. We tell these stories not as trivia, but as a call to responsibility.

The 133rd anniversary isn’t just a milestone. It’s a reminder that Forever Wild is a promise. We still walk these trails, cast into these waters, and watch the sun set behind these peaks. Let’s make sure the next generation can too.

(Jonathan Zaharek, Hike ADK)