Memories of Echo Lake

Memories of Echo Lake

I remember the first time I saw Echo Lake (Long Pond, as it is officially named). It was a fall day in October, clear and crisp. The autumn colors to my adolescent eye were as vivid as they are today in my memory. Mr. Reynolds sat on the hand-hewn bench made from fallen timbers. He seemed an imposing figure to me—white-haired and gruff. My dad struck a bargain to rent a cabin for the next summer. For the next 30 years, our family would trek up t…