Do you know Duncan?

Lots of folks claim to. Duncan Kincaid lives deep in the Adirondack Park—exactly where, no one seems to know. He was born sometime after 1930 not far from where he lives now. His love for dogs stems from his youth, when his grandfather got him an Irish Setter pup that he named Chet. Now in his seventies, Duncan is retired and lives alone. He is a private man, but likes to tell stories of his youth and of his father and grandfather. He has homebrewed since he was a teenager during the World War II. While he uses several different recipes, his favorite ale is called Dacker. He has also brewed a hoppy pale ale, a light ale, a porter and a stout—all recipes handed down to him by his grandfather.

While Duncan is an accomplished fisherman, hiker and kayaker, he’s never been a hunter. The only homes he has ever lived in relied on wood burning for heat and, since he was a youngster, he has split all his own firewood. While he flew a seaplane in the 1960s, his “lunkin’ livery” spent more time broke down at the dock than it did in the air. The plane moved from the dock so infrequently that one could often find Duncan’s dog sleeping on the far pontoon.

He seldom visits Glens Falls or any other city, does not like talking on the phone, prefers his ale chilled, not ice cold, does not watch TV, listens to North Country Public Radio, enjoys reading and crossword puzzles, likes jazz and big band music, writes letters, and prefers walking the deep woods trails and kayaking the flows and lakes. Although his stories often do not paint some people—particularly city folk— in the best light, he’ll never speak an unkind word about anyone.

Duncan’s children are grown, and have scattered across the country, as children do. In order to stay in touch, and with consideration to his telephone aversion, Duncan’s kids have set-up an email account for the old Adirondacker, and even posted a Weblog that Duncan can use to tell his tales.