Reaching new heights means different things to different people.

The new height for me this past weekend was Kane Mountain, which might have more modestly and appropriately been named Kane Hill. Climbing Kane, at 1.8 miles roundtrip, does not qualify me to start checking off Adirondack high peaks. No competition for Ray O’Conor.

Still, the “I Love New York” guidebook describes the ascent as “moderate,” not “easy.” And I did break a sweat.

This was an attempt by my six-member book club to exercise our bodies after exercising our minds over a high-carb brunch. I began first out of the gate, striding along in hiking boots that hadn’t seen a trail since 1999. Like the horses I usually lose on at Saratoga Race Course, by the halfway point I went from front runner to bringing up the rear by more than a few lengths.

But I made it. And best of all, I was first up to the top of the fire tower.

The reward was lovely: a panorama of lakes, peaks and rolling hills turning yellow and red. Taking in such a view on a beautiful fall day is one of my favorite things.