The following is an excerpt from a New Jersey newspaper in October 1999 which might be of interest to other HPers:
Dear whoever's in charge of naming stuff in this state: HIGH POINT? Is that the best we could do for the highest point in New Jersey? Other people came up with spiffy names like Kilimanjaro and Katahdin for their big hills; we opted for the laughably literal. It's as if Ford had named that gorgeous car it came out with in 1954 Four Wheels and an Engine instaed of Thunderbird.
But I didn't really mean to start by trashing the name High Point. I meant to start by trashing the view one gets from High Point, which is at the state's northern tip and is widely praised as providing a drop-dead-gorgeous panorama.
I'd never seen the famed sight, so I headed up there, taking the offspring along. Unfortunately, the adage "location, location, location" was not followed when High Point was plunked down; any farther from civlization and you'd need a passport to go there (I guess this reporter has never been to Wyoming). And the road to High Point from where I live is the heinous Route 206, a permanent traffic jam masquerading as a highway.
In short, by the time we reached the great pinnacle, what had begun as a sunny day was an overcast, hazy mess. The daughter, who has hiked 3,500-foot mountains in New Hampshire (I guess she hasn't been to Wyoming either), may have been unimpressed by High Point's 1,803 feet in any weather, but on this day she was aggressively unimpressed. "If this is the best view in New Jersey," she said, peering into the murk, "I'd hate to see the worst."