Adirondack Peeks Summer 2025

facility in central Colorado constructed that same year for what became the Tenth Mountain Division. While at Camp Hale, Jim was recruited by the Mountain Training Center to train troops in West Virginia in need of rock climbing and setting up fixed ropes at night, so troops could assault high strongholds in North Africa and Italy. Jim writes: I returned from work one afternoon, half way through our training session, to be told by Art Argiewics that my wife had just arrived in our camping area! We had been told that we were on a secret training mission. We were not even supposed to write home to say where we were or what we were doing. Jane had returned from Camp Hale to West Hartford by train and I had told her where I was, though I also told her that this was a hush hush situation. What did she do but get into our station wagon, scrape up enough gasoline ration stamps and drive to Natural Bridge! Military Police stopped her. She explained that she was looking for her husband. They let her through the lines. At the Natural Bridge Hotel, she asked for directions to our camp and ran into two Thirty-Fourth Division officers from Hartford whom she had skied with at Pinkham Notch . . . They found her a boarding house to stay in and directed her to our tent site—to which she drove our station wagon in among all those military vehicles. This time I really deserved to get court-martialed! SR: Amazing! And this was after showing up as a surprise at Camp Hale in Colorado as well. What a woman! TG: Indeed. Her father was an MIT graduate who knew about mechanics, this was the early days of automobiles, so he taught her to work on an old Model T, an early Chevrolet. She was the mechanic in our family. SR: I understand your mother was a skilled watercolorist as well and her paintings can be found around the Adirondacks. Was she a 46er? TG: Unlike my father, she was not a great hiker. She always said that her knees were not fit for long descents. But, of course, because she was Jimmy Goodwin’s wife, everyone would say, “you must be a 46er,” and after a while she began to say, “Yes, I was a 46er for one whole year and then I turned 47!” SR: Your father shares so much of his love of the mountains and writes so honestly in his memoir. He describes hearing the news that the Americans had dropped an atomic bomb on Hiroshima. The war was over, just a final trip to Fort Devens to be released from the Army. He writes of the morning before departing for the fort: But that morning I was driven to perform a Holy mission. The good Lord, perhaps helped by Old

Tony’s father at ATIS’s 100-year recognition of him in 2010. It was billed as a “wine and cheese” affair, so Tony added some Kraft Velveeta cheese as he was famous for subjecting all those on his camping trip to this somewhat questionable food. Phil Corell is also pictured.

Tony in a pack basket—how we were carried before there were true child carriers.

Mountain Phelps, had brought me back unharmed to the Adirondacks. I left our cottage at dawn on the run. An hour and forty minutes later I was on the summit of Marcy, ten miles away and 4,000 feet higher. God’s Grace had allowed me to return in sound physical shape to the place I loved best. SR: I’ve read that your dad climbed Marcy 195 times, and he stopped counting after his fifteenth round of 46. Have you kept documentation of the mountains that you’ve hiked?

“God’s Grace had allowed me to return in sound physical shape to the place I loved best.”

TG: No, I just know that I have six rounds of the 46 and if I were to climb Seymour, I’d have seven. And if I climb Seymour again, I’d have eight.

SUMMER 2025 | 9