When you bring up Lynn Woods to local climbers, you receive a varied reaction. It's a choss pile to some. A land scattered with lowballs of piercing granite. They look to their hands dejectedly and impel the conversation towards the wonders of Lincoln Woods and Pawtuckaway. Others get a wistful glaze over their eyes. They zone out for a moment, then rouse telling fantastical tales of gourd-like blocs, rained in the forest like a skittle commercial of yore.
Lynn woods was, in my experience, a farrago of mystery, potential, and confusion.
