How a summer hike in 1987 became a scent I had to make.
There's a mountain in the Adirondacks with my name on it.
Mount Marcy. The highest point in New York State.
In the summer of 1987, I was ten years old when we finally did it.
My sister Sarah had just come back from a NOLS wilderness program, which meant she had all the gear, all the confidence, and very strong opinions about how everything should be done. My mom, my dad, Sarah, me, our black and tan coonhound Santa… and what felt like an excessive amount of dried fruit.
The hike was long. Longer than I expected. At one point, my mom was soaking in the quiet and said something like, "Isn't it nice to be out here and not see anyone?" Right on cue, Santa started barking. Around the bend came a group of hikers… including one of my mom's students. Without hesitation, she stepped off the trail and disappeared into the woods to hide. We just stood there watching it happen. It was one of the funniest things I had ever seen.
Not long after, the sky opened up and it poured. And then there was Sarah… and the dried fruit. Let's just say she ate a little too much and ended up sitting in a stream for a while. It's still one of those family stories that comes up every time we're together.
We camped partway up the mountain, and I barely slept. I was too excited.
"I had a clementine in my pack. I always did on hikes. I remember peeling it slowly in that cold morning air, the scent bursting open — bright, fresh, alive. That citrus mixed with the trees, the wind, the feeling of being up there… it was perfect." |
We stayed up there for hours. Just taking it all in. The view, the air, the quiet. It had been so hard to get there — and standing at the top felt like something I had truly earned.
And me? I was standing on top of the highest point in New York, on the mountain that shared my name, feeling proud in a way that only comes from doing something hard.
The Scent
Years later, when I began to understand the power of scent — how it can bring you back to a moment instantly — that was the first memory I wanted to capture.
"Not because it was perfect. Because it was real." |
That became Mount Marcy. Bright mandarin, inspired by that clementine at the summit. Fresh basil, capturing the green, alive feeling of the trail. Warm sandalwood, grounding it all — like the mountain itself.
And every time I smell it, I'm right back there.
Warmly,
Marcy
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Mandarin · Basil · Sandalwood · Lily of the Valley Shop Mount Marcy → |