Return to the Concrete Jungle

At eight o’clock the following morning, the Sikorsky S-76 helicopter lifted off from the mountain landing pad, its twin turbines thundering against the crisp morning air. Below them, the Catskill lodge shrank into a tiny speck of dark fieldstone surrounded by miles of immaculate, untouched snowdrifts. The storm had left behind a sky of crystalline sapphire blue, and as the helicopter tracked south along the frozen Hudson River, the sun…