For the longest time, this mountain was a mystery to me. I’d driven by it on numerous occasions while cruising along 28N through Minerva, always captivated by its accessible beauty. I have also stopped to regularly document its phases throughout the year. The first time I observed this mountain was on my way back from playing in Tupper Lake’s Phil Edwards Memorial Hockey Tournament this year. The landscape had been blanketed in heavy snow; my vehicle framed by pines drooping with the weight of it as I drove. I was enchanted. The Adirondacks had a real winter! Not a sloppy frozen mud season like the type that plagued the southern part of the state.
Then I came upon Moxham. Its dazzling visage compelled me to immediately pull over. Although I’d brought no camera with me, I simply could not leave without snapping at least one phone picture. The mountain’s surface is carpeted by conifers with the exception of its rocky southern-facing slope, which was dusted in white from the aftermath of yesterday’s snowfall. Moxham Pond spanned the foreground, its shiny ice obscured by snow. Blue sky peeked through layers of cumulus clouds allowing sunbeams to illuminate the white. I made a mental note to return to the location again.
I’ve returned to the site not once but three more times since. I made a second visit within a few weeks of returning from the hockey tournament. Snowfall was still pervasive over the landscape, only this time it was lighter. The heavy cloud cover left an ominous impression that it might begin to storm, but I didn’t mind. A cloudy day is a photographer’s field day. High-contrast of stark sunlight has its place but ultimately proves to be very limiting in terms of aesthetics. The cloud cover over Moxham Mountain that day at the end of January made me notice the subtleties of the landscape, like the browns of the dormant cat tails and the texture of the clouds. I returned in spring to capture the cat tails in bloom, although I wasn’t as happy with the result.
My fourth trip to this location was one of pure chance. My friend and I were returning from Henderson Lake mid-August when I missed a turn. Thunderstorms had been intermittently disrupting our day. As we reached Minerva, rising fog from the pond staggered the inner artists of my friend and I. We could still hear thunder rumbling in the distance. The setting sun produced a yellowish haze over the mountain’s northern side.
We spent 20 minutes savoring our image-making opportunity. It certainly won’t be the last trip I take to view the mystical mountain that hides in plain sight. I imagine Moxham is largely overlooked by Adirondack tourists given its obscure location. I can only hope that locals of Minerva appreciate its openness. After some research on the mountain, I found that there is a trail along its crest forged in 2012. As usual, my Adirondack discovery is only new to me. But it doesn’t matter how many times I pass it by. The view will never cease to impress me.