Like hundreds of others, my time in the Tri-Lakes area is split between the two villages of Saranac Lake and Lake Placid, but until last weekend, I hadn’t been somewhere where I could view each of my new homes at the same time.

Descending the northeastern summit of McKenzie Mountain’s saddleback peak, this is the view that is seared in my memory best during my time pursuing the Saranac Lake 6. Yes, the views of Lake Placid lake and the Saranac Lake chain from each of McKenzie’s two summit lookouts were magnificent. On the Lake Placid side, near-microscopic motorboats quietly propelled past islands, and Lake Placid’s village and its varying elements were on full display. On the Saranac Lake side, the sun illuminated white rays through clouds beneath, providing a heavenly overcast to the chain of lakes.

But it was this view after leaving McKenzie’s summit that I feel best speaks to the beauty of this 10-or-so mile stretch we all have grown to love – perhaps the only spot where you can see each village at once.

Just a couple of minutes after departing McKenzie’s summit, here I was, staring down at the mountain’s shorter peak. From miles away, these two points appear near the same height. All the way up here, the scope of the shorter summit is striking, with Lake Placid flanking the view on the left, Saranac Lake to the right.

If my pursuit of the Saranac 6 was anything, it was with the purpose of getting to know these two villages that much better. It included snowy March and April jaunts up St. Regis, Haystack and Ampersand mountains. This summer, a sunset hike of Mount Baker and mid-day summits of Scarface and McKenzie completed my six.

Moments at places along these mountain trails stick out, such as staring straight up at St. Regis’ weathered metal fire tower (since renovated), carefully crawling up Ampersand’s icy summit on a gusty day and watching the sun set over Saranac Lake from Baker.

Getting to know the people of these trails, of these villages, though, was something that resonated more. Their smiles, their stories – these are the things that speak to the wide spectrum of souls that make up the Adirondack conscience.

There were Paul Smith’s College students on St. Regis, tip-toeing around the snowy mud their dogs sprinted through.

There were Saranac Lake youth scaling Haystack’s steep final half-mile, carefree when crossing a speedy dam along the way.

There were SUNY Potsdam students from Long Island on their first hike, smiling as they trudged without microspikes over the steep and icy final portion of Ampersand’s trail. The view of the frosty Seward range in the distance seemed like a mirage.

There was a young Lake Placid couple taking in a June sunset over Saranac Lake with their hammock strung between two trees overlooking a ledge.

There were incarcerated men from Ray Brook’s prisons, smiling and breathing in the Adirondack air while lugging planks in and out on the Scarface Mountain trail to improve its emblematic footbridge.

And then there was Will White, like so many other people you meet on the trail, an instant friend. Thirty-one miles after I stepped foot on St. Regis’ snowy trail in March, a chat with White concluded my 6er journey. The Lake Placid resident and Trudeau Institute caretaker enlightened me on the history of these Lake Placid and Saranac Lake trails and how they’ve changed since the 6er program started three years ago.

In that short time, more than 1,500 people have become 6ers. That’s more than one a day since Loring Porter was the first official 6er at 6:22 p.m. on May 25, 2013.

I’ll be far from the last. The view from above may be the best education about these communities we each can absorb. Whatever it is we’re seeking, these mountains aren’t going anywhere.