The eponymous "wild idea" is the Adirondack Park Agency, which was established in two stages in 1971 and 1973 during the height of the first wave of environmental awareness in the U.S. Brad Edmondson started work on this book years ago, put it down and picked it up again in 2018. In his closing acknowledgements, he tells of being brought on an Adirondack camping trip as a boy, which made him fall in love with the region. Variations on his own story are repeated throughout the book in several interviews.
Edmondson's prose is transparent. He does his own presence intrude at all. In that sense, this is an old fashioned sort of book, a bit like something by John McPhee, but he doesn't allow himself an affectations of style that McPhee does. Edmondson's profiles of his cast of characters are a nice mixture of biography and deeds. I might have liked to get to know some of them a bit better, especially the more eccentric ones like Clarence Petty or Peter Paine.
One of the striking aspects of this story is that the supporters of the APA came from both inside the park and outside of it. The group that was appointed to the Temporary Study Commission (TSC) by Gov. Nelson Rockefeller tended toward the upper end of the economic ladder, but not exclusively. But there were Adirondack-bred people like Petty who knew the woods upside down who were invaluable to describing what was worth saving.
There is just enough context in this book to let you know how extraordinary a feat it was to create the APA. At the time it was established there was really nothing like it. What is it? It is a planning commission with enforcement capabilities that oversees land use on both public and private lands in the largest park in the country. Edmondson brings the reader through the welter of compromises that were made on the way to getting the N.Y. legislature to actually approve both the APA and the colossal land-use and development plan that set its parameters. It represents the kind of political deal-making and compromising that simply does not exist right now.
The author does not bang on the drum very loudly, but he does make it clear that this was largely a project perpetrated by wealthly white men. Very few women were involved and even fewer people of color. Not only did the events in this book unfold over 50 years ago, but they did so in a rural and conservative part of the country.
Edmondson is careful, however, not to paint any of this in stark good guy versus bad guy terms. Instead, everyone's motivations are spelled out dispassionately, so that even if the reader does not agree with someone's perspective, they can at least understand it. This story also does not include any really scandalous or underhanded behavior (although a briefcase with the final land-use plan in it did mysteriously disappear). Anyone looking for a pot-boiler will have to look elsewhere. Instead A Wild Idea tells the story of a devoted group of zealots who worked long and hard to get what they wanted, mostly.