Adirondack Life

As Adirondack As It Gets

A framed T-shirt on the wall of the Newcomb Café—the only place in town to grab breakfast, lunch or a tank of gas—advertises “Beautiful Downtown Newcomb. Conveniently located in the middle of nowhere.”

It’s not just a self-deprecating joke. Newcomb, a town of around 400 that’s at least a 20-minute drive from the nearest community, is conveniently located to the stuff that brings people to the Adirondacks.

The first thing drivers heading west into town see is the Over-look, possibly the most breathtaking roadside panorama in the Blue Line, if not the Northeast.

Want to hike? Head to the Upper Works trailhead, the southern gateway to the High Peaks; it’s not nearly as crowded as the trailheads in Keene Valley and Lake Placid. Like fire-tower summits? Newcomb has two. For something less strenuous or accessible to wheelchairs, the Adirondack Interpretive Center has you covered. Paddlers, anglers, campers, whitewater enthusiasts and history buffs will all find their little slice of heaven here.

Other conveniences—not so much. If you want to live in Newcomb, points out town supervisor Robin DeLoria, you have to be willing to “take half a day out of your life to get a haircut.” And the closest thing to a supermarket is the little shop run by Ruth and Dave Olbert, of

You’re reading a preview, subscribe to read more.

More from Adirondack Life

Adirondack Life5 min read
War on Whiteface
A decade after America’s triumph in World War I, a grateful public was still casting about for ways to honor its heroic Doughboys for making the world safe for democracy. Statuary of Brodie-helmeted infantrymen could be found in parks from sea to shi
Adirondack Life4 min read
High Peaks Hero
Long before Jonathan Zaharek stepped foot on an Adirondack mountain, his family had vacationed, summer after summer, in the southern park. It wasn’t until about a decade ago that Zaharek discovered the High Peaks while attending school in Pottersvill
Adirondack Life5 min read
Where the Pavement Ends
Summertime in the North Country: it’s both a blessing and a curse. Within its lightning-quick span, squeezed between the end of mud-smeared blackfly bites and the beginning of back-to-school insanity, everyone you know—and everyone they know—tries to

Related