All posts by mickcosteondrums@aol.com
Winter(plus) 2017 -Life Beyond Marshall
A LOOK BACK AT THE SEASONS HIKES…
(click here to read Marshall Post – this is for the rest)
Final Winter Blessings–
Whatever dark spirits were exorcised on that long Black Friday in January, were gone for good giving me and my hiking buddy, in many ways, the best Winter season yet! Well Winter-plus really. I’ll go back as far as November and into the early Spring and just call it “snowy-time-17”. We laid tracks in every northeast state during this amazing season. After a frigid closeout hike in week one of spring, we sat and ate just about everything on the menu at a local pub while we reflected on the 2017 offerings over a hops-lased brew. Between bites, my sister asked me what my favorite hike was. I sat and pondered for a while as I chewed on a wing and responded with “all of the above”. After all, it’s just impossible to single out one journey. There was so much variety and each day’s route had its own special moments. Heck even in the shadows of Marshall, we could award it top ranking, in its own hellish way!
Here’s how it all unfolded, at a glance…
Early November brought Therese and I to Vermont accompanied our canine friend Simba on a two-day trip that included Camel’s Hump and the highest point in the state Mount Mansfield with the first frosty icy signs of the season. Then came a very warm Berkshire’s hike where the 3 of us were joined by my other sis Maryjeanne. Thanksgiving weekend dumped some snow in the ADK land, giving me a few days of wintery solo treks up Tabletop one day, and Street/Nye the next, in my continuing effort to catch up to Therese in our 46-ers quest to become “aspiring no more”- All this before the solstice arrived!
After our double dose of “Marsh-Hell” in January, and my therapeutic little stroll up Tecumseh, the beginning of February actually brought some of the seasons only measurable snowfall back home. I took advantage of the local offerings and then T & I met up in Lincoln NH mid-month for a few days in the Whites, where they got the jackpot. First up was a longer loop off the Kanc in the Hancocks with some rigorous climbing and plenty of timberline views. Then a drive further north offered a gentler out-and-back through Starr-King and the wooded Waumbek and a scene right out of Chronicles of Narnia.
March brought me back out west for another few days in NY. Simba greeted me with excitement for he knew what a visit from uncle Mike meant. We’re going hiking!! The 3 of us headed out to the Catskills for a great Sunday drive and a nice easy grade up to Slide Mountain. Then the next day I seemed to have all of the Adirondacks to myself with the exception of one other human (the only soul I saw all day), as I did a 10-hour loop around Nippletop and Dial. I actually passed my sister on the list for the first time on this day, but she outdid me the following week with a large meet-up group on Street and Nye. Meanwhile I was back in the southern Whites picking up a few more W48’s on the last full day of winter with Whiteface and Passaconaway. As the spring equinox arrived, my sister and I closed out the season with an introduction to Maine hiking. Old-Speck should have been named Cold-Speck on this day. The ruthless wind-chills made this the coldest hike of the season for both of us. It turned out to be a lot harder than we were expecting, but we persisted and were rewarded with spectacular views on the summit tower in single digit temps and hearty wind gusts.
Each Winter somehow seems to get better than the last and I wonder how 2018 will try to top this. But now I will switch gears and set sights on some long summer backpack trips, truly thankful for another Winter blessing. These images and highlights will stick with me in the years to come wherever my feet carry me in future journeys. Thank You Winter 2017!

Vermont Highlights (11/12-Camel’s Hump, 11/13-Mt. Mansfield)
THE HUMP: The trails were coated with ice in many spots. Spikes are an easy solutions for humans, but Simba was slipping and sliding. After a while he would try to find off-trail spots to avoid the ice. In other spots, we gave him a boost to help him up the skating rink. He was a trooper and never gave up. He was a big hit with everyone we encountered on the trail. Overall – just a great day!
VERMONT VICTORY!
The lesson (or rather REFRESHER) I learned here was that winter summit visits usually must be brief if want to keep your fingers. An extended lunch break is better suited in tree cover. Always something to learn.
MANSFIELD: Day two, we woke up in our pet-friendly hotel ready to give it a go. Simba was visibly sore from the previous day on the Hump. But we decided to try him out and see how he does. Well before too long it was clear that he was not doing well. The spirit was there but his legs were struggling to keep up. He would stop and look up at Therese as if to say. “I can do it… really I can!” But it was obvious that he really couldn’t. So eventually Therese pulled the plug and the two of them retreated down the mountain, while I continued. Turns out that was a smart move, because there were spots near the top that were scrambles that i’m not so sure he would have made it up even with fresh legs.
↑↑↑ more icy trails ↑↑↑
Looks like a socked in summit today
Well i made it. Now where’s that view?
There it is, on the descent!
Heading toward Adams Apple…

A look back from Adams Apple to Chin (summit) and Nose in background …
Heading down to Lake of Clouds below…↓↓↓
It was a beautiful day! Wish I coulda shared it with my companions. But we made the right call. By the time they made it to the trail head Simba couldn’t move and basically had to be carried to the car. Poor guy. He did eventually recover to hike another day. We’ll all come back and maybe traverse the whole ridge someday. But for now, that’s another check mark for me. Just 2 more left in Vermont.
A Warm-up in the Berks (Bashbish Falls and Alander Mountain 11/19)
The following weekend was anything but winter. I took a drive with Maryjeanne to western Mass and met Therese and Simba for a summer-like day at this picturesque spot. Lots of laughter and NO signs of ice today!
Great day with the sibs. Hope that I get to hike a lot more with MJ. Warmth was nice, but I’m ready for the white stuff!!
There’s SNOW in dem dar hills!!
(Tabletop-22, Nye-23/Street-24: 11/25 & 26)
DAY ONE(Tabletop): Thanksgiving feast gave me plenty of fuel to head out west to the Adirondaks where they had picked up some fresh snow. Right after dinner at Mom’s, I hit the road for a pit stop at Therese’s to hang out with her family and watch some Christmas movies over dessert. By first daylight I was already on the road to the High Peaks where I would tackle a Tabletop that served me no feast, except to feast upon a wintery spread of food for the soul. There wasn’t much snowpack yet but the base was laid for what would be a monster season in the Daks. Flurries were off and on throughout the day, mixed in with a few periods of freezing drizzle. There aren’t many on the trail today, as most are likely still in a turkey coma. I’ll take the solitude in the fresh crisp winter air that’s rolling in from Canada, and fill my lungs with it all the way to the top of the table.
↓↓↓“I CAME ALL THIS WAY FOR A WHITE-OUT??? ↑↑↑
↑↑↑”I LOVE IT!!!!” ↑↑↑
WRAPPING UP ANOTHER DAK IN THE DARK…↓↓↓↓
DAY TWO (Nye/Street): Spent the night at Keene Valley Hostel. There was only one other couple, plus some loveable kittens. Nice place to stay, although a few points off because one of the two propane heaters were not working. We heated the place by leaving the electric stove and oven on for a while. It wasn’t that cold out anyway and we stayed toasty (actually a bit too warm for my taste).
Anyway after a good night’s sleep, I headed back out to ADK Loj parking lot, to snag a few more High Peaks. This time it was Street and Nye, two “trail-less” peaks who’s junction lies at the end of a small brook that you follow due west, upstream for most of the trip after crossing the larger Indian Pass Brook. The heard path is accessed from the trail that leads to Mount Jo from Heart Lake.
The trail was a wet, muddy, slushy mess for majority of the trip, but for the most part easy to find my way, following the sloppy cluster of footprints. I encountered a few more groups today, and yesterdays flurries were replaced with periods of drizzle.
It got somewhat confusing at the IPB crossing where the tracks branched off into two directions for two different spots to cross.
Up higher was more fluffy white stuff with dryer conditions. From the junction, Nye was a quick jaunt to the briefly visited summit, where a group of 3 had stopped for lunch. Street was a longer ascent, and got me occasionally concerned for time, since this was an unmarked trail where I had already got confused once. But I had my GPS leaving me a trail of bread crumbs, and as long as I got back across the brook before dark I was in good shape.
Just as I was thinking “where’s that sign?” it appeared before me. After the obligatory summit selfie, I tagged it and bagged it, and then raced down the mountain to make up some time. With the snow balling up between my microspikes, I stopped at only a few spots where a limited view presented itself.
In the end, I made it back in the dark again, soaked from head to toe, but otherwise without issue and two peaks closer to my goal and passed the halfway mark. Then it was back to the Hostel where this time I had the place to myself, aside from one cuddly kitty. I had originally thought of a possible 3rd hike, but all my clothes were still damp, and i was spent. So after a huge breakfast I hit the road for a 5 hour drive home. Until official solstice arrival, see you soon ADK!
And then came MARSHALL… (1/1, 1/13) (Tecumseh 1/28)
The first day of the new year, and the first official winter hike of the season, brought us to our first attempt at this peak. Long story short we succeeded on our 2nd attempt 12 days later. (read more about this ordeal here)…
Then a quick reconnect on Tecumseh (also described in Marshall post) left me wanting more of the Whites…
A New Month Brings New Life (Hancocks 2/18, Waumbek 2/19)
DAY ONE- HANCOCKS: I always said that I didn’t think the Winter 48 list was for me. But I am starting to come around to the idea. Since finishing my original NH48 milestone in September, and plunging into the Daks for my next one, I’ve been looking for a reason to return. Really, the mountains should be reason enough on their own, but its nice to have a goal to keep you going too. Therese has recently decided to complete her overall 48 after finding her checklist from college and realizing she is over halfway there. So I will get to accompany her whenever she wants company, and at the same time I can slowly chip away at my W48. So after comparing lists we decided on the Hancocks for this weekend. Therese hadn’t done them yet, and my first round was a late fall hike on this 2-peak loop. There was a fresh snowfall added to a rather deep base of packed powder. Win-Win-Win!! It turned out to be the perfect choice despite some rather challenging trudging near the summit.
Perfect NH trail blazing, as if someone went through with a snowblower!
Tougher going after the loop junction following a single set of tracks.
I just love the north woods after a fresh snowfall
As the position of (should be eye level) trail markers show, NH got the jackpot this year! Higher and steeper up our ascent of South Peak we really had to bear down and dig in. Definitely one step backward for every two forward.
Finally sign of an approaching summit!
A few lunch guests at our little lookout on Hancock South.
The trek between the two peaks consisted of navigating our way through snow-covered branches and re-establishing the trail in a few spots where previous trampers had briefly lost their way, all the while getting dumped on from the white coatings shaking loose from the trees as we brushed by them. No precip falling from the sky but in hindsight, we probably should have had our pack covers on.
No the signs aren’t mounted at ground level. There’s just that much snow! There’s actually another one buried beneath.
And then the trees open up to a clearing and the North summit is reached. Fabulous views in all directions. This is much different than my previous visit. The deep snow lifts us higher up and offers more visibility over the treetops, whereas last time a had to make my way to another lookout ledge, which is of course now buried.
Summit pose before the steep butt-slide down from North peak.
(I suck at this!)
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And as the trail flattens out once more and we make our way back to the hairpin turn on the Kanc we feel the blessings bestowed upon us by the creator of this immense beauty. A privilege to be cherished.
Even as we load our snow covered gear into the back of my rickety old Rav4, and the hunger growling from our empty bellies drown out the breeze whistling through the trees, the sun sinking to the raised horizon of the mountains beyond gives a promise of more beauty to come in the day that follows.
DAY TWO- STARR KING/WAUMBEK: There will be time to acknowledge the soreness later. For now, we know that these fair weather opportunities can be hard to come by in the mountains, and are to be taken advantage of, at every chance that presents itself. So we fuel up with a quick breakfast and a cup of inspiration, and hit the road northbound to Coös County and the Pliny Range for a more gentle incline up Waumbek. The skies aren’t quite as blue as yesterday, but this is the perfect undertaking for such days as this.
This could not be more different than yesterday. A gentle slope meandering through the forest. When I last visited Waumbek, It was a foggy drizzly summer day giving the woods an eerie presence. Winter has transformed this place into a different world, a fantasy land of sorts.
The wooded summit of Waumbek offers no open views, but the smaller peak enroute to our destination, Star King provides a nice one of the Northern Presis and more to our south.
After a summit pose we continue our stroll through the woods
And in no time at all, we arrive. Some hot cocoa and some lunch over some chit-chat with a couple that arrived shortly after us, and we start to retrace our steps. Another NH4k in the books for therese and another W48 peak for me.
Some repeat views in reverse on the way out.
Crusing down at a good pace on the fluffy white. swish swish swish…like walking on clouds.
And then before we know it we are finished and walking the road back to our car.
Treated to a fire in the sky to warm my heart on my commute, as I ponder the weekends blessings…
Back in the NY groove
(Slide Mtn: 3/5, Nippletop-26, Dial-27 :3/6)
Turning the page into a Sunday in March, and I’m heading out west again to meet up with Therese and Simba for day one in the Catskills, then heading up North to the high peaks for a long solo Monday. The weather and schedule dictated the hiking days once again, and I will not miss Monday in the office one bit!
Slide Mountain is one of the two Catskills that are official peaks of the Northeast 111 (which actually consists of 115 peaks). These lists take on a life of their own once you decide to get a few of em under your belt. Once you’ve done NH48 it seems “easy” enough to get 14 more in Maine and 5 more in VT to complete the NE67, and then once you’ve added the ADK 46 you need only grab 2 more in NY to get you to 115. So why not? Besides, this is a nice easy hike for Simba. The trickiest part is the water crossing at the very beginning with unstable snow bridges, but we just had to pick the right spot to cross and keep our boots dry. The rest of it was a cakewalk.
Simba was avoiding the paparazzi that day for some reason, but we managed to pin him down for a few poses.
The views over the trees were nice at the summit.
All in all, a nice warm-up hike on a rather warm late winter day.
And then came HOOKY DAY!
Now I was ready for a long day in the Daks! Turns out I would get them ALL TO MYSELF (or so it seemed). I saw but only one other person all day! Other than that, nothing but God’s country!
But first a roadwalk through Ausable Club AMR which is now deserted. This is a private country club you must pass through on foot to get to the trails in this section of ADK. A nice warm-up to the day.
The gate marks the unpaved portion of road, and today this is a sheet of ice, so on with the Microspikes. Carrying the snowshoes on my back for now.
The first turnoff I encounter is where I will finish off the day, so I continue to walk the road along the mostly frozen Ausable River’s East Branch, to my start point at Gill Brook Trail.
An hour into my day I finally get to my turnoff and hit the trail!
Last time I saw this stretch of trail was a much different story. We were finishing up a long beautiful, although somewhat muddy, day on Colvin and Blake during peak foliage, and the stream’s cascading falls offered a soothing ambiance to our aching tired bodies and minds. Now winter has frozen everything and its as if time has stood still, waiting for me to witness this moment at every turn. I of course cannot resist capturing every amazing scene like a kid in a candy store!
<– Hmmm, Is there ever a choice really??
AND I AM IN MY HAPPY PLACE ONCE AGAIN…
Another junction marks the next stage of the journey. Another left here.
Filtered sunlight above as I make my way to the Ponds in the col off Elks Pass.
Plenty of deep post holes to avoid from last week’s warm-up, but it has since firmed up with a blast of cold from the North. Spikes are still all I need so far.
Sun peaking out now as I approach the ponds. I pause here to soak in some rays and grab a quick snack.
Hearing some distant footsteps getting closer, I get back on my way, to stay ahead of them. Call me selfish but these are MY mountains today!
Slowly inching up the steep curves of Nippletop ,the views get better and better and the feeling of my intimate encounter with the mountains more profound the closer I get. (bow-chicka-wow-wow)
Up further and further until…Almost there!
Then just like that, I arrive to this amazing point. The tip of the nip!
And I grab all the wondrous beauty it has to offer!
(Click here for video of Nippletop Summit)
Then the footsteps approach once again, and my only human encounter of the day arrives on the scene. We exchange some summit conversation and photographer duties and he exits, to get back to the junction where he is uncertain weather to backtrack his steps or continue onto Dial, like me. I enjoy the views for a bit more then head out myself. Still many more miles to cover!!
I pass him once again on my way to peak #2 and put some distance between us. Between the two peaks I get another time-stand-still moment, where the silence is so profound that I have to stop and take it in. I try to capture this moment once again, but as I pan around the creaking of my pack breaks the stillness. Sometimes you just need to put the camera down and take it in.
Before too long, I arrive at the lookout just before the wooded true summit of Dial. This gives me fantastic views of the Great Range, and a perfect spot to grab some lunch and enjoy the show.
…And Life is good!
My dessert makes me think “Got Milk?” and if only I were still on Nippletop. Gabe Falker says you can milk anything with nipples! Well, I guess hot (or luke warm) Cocoa will have to do.
After a good long break, I tear myself away from the main attraction to put on some more miles. Next stop Bear Den and then over a portion of Noonmark mountain.
(Click here for video of Dial outlook)
Bear Den was nothing spectacular but the mood gets a bit eery as I make my way through the scorched forest with the scronnie trees of the 2nd growth leading up to the shoulder of Noonmark, which suffered the effects of a big fire years ago leaving bare rock ledges. A recipe for more great views!
Kinda Spooky here.
But Plenty of views through the dwarfed growth.
Going on 8 hours now and feeling good. Its all downhill from here.
Spikes served me well the whole way. Looks like the snowshoes had a free ride today!
After some crazy downhill trotting, made it back to the road before dark. Then another hour back to the car and I’m ready for the 4.5 hour drive home after some clean clothes and a stop for a bacon burger. BEST MONDAY EVER!! Much better than sitting in my cubicle battling the office chaos! Thank You so much once again, you beautiful wonderful mountains! Can’t wait to return!
…And Winter 2017 comes to a close (Whiteface/Passaconaway 3/19)
The final day of winter brought me back to the New Hampshire. It was great to celebrate the closing of another amazing winter in the place where my winter hiking began – my Whites. A 10.5 mile loop over Whitefaace and Passaconaway gives me a fresh perspective on this area that was bursting with spring life my last time around. I thought about how the snow-fall season has added so much to my love of hiking and the mountains, and how each year gets better than the last, and teaches me new lessons and brings new gifts. I think back at this season in particular and the wide variety it brought, from a never-ending death march testing my limits to short carefree easy days, from peaceful solitude to laughter and sharing, from the Berkshires in Mass, to the Catskills and Adirondack in NY, to the Whites in NH, to the Greens in VT, and now in a few days plans to meet up in Maine with the other set of footsteps I have counted on so much lately, my sister and hiking buddy. She is taking another trek today with a group of friends in the Daks to tag Street and Nye. I am thinking of her from time to time, but also enjoying this time with no thoughts at all, just me and the mountains.
…And the sun sets on the last full day of the best winter yet! It’ll be hard to top this one for sure, but I will certainly try like hell in 2018!
BUT WAIT! Winter might be over but we’ve got one more trick up our sleeve to say farewell to an unforgettable season. With Therese finishing up a business trip in Maine, we met up on a very cold start to Spring’17 to bag our very first Main-er (if that’s even what they call em) – Old Speck. It was the coldest trek of the Winter, even though we were into Spring. But a perfect last hurrah with our snow gear before we went into our Spring hiatus waiting to transition into what would be an amazing summer in the Adirondacks to finish our 46-er quest! But we’ll be back next year to play in the snow again!
31ST ENTRY: ALWAYS ASPIRING! (A 46-R FINISH) – 10/1/17
Adirondack High Peaks
(Mt. Colden #46)
With the Christmas tree lit in front of me, and a sleeping cat warming my feet, I think to myself that there is one gift so great, it could never fit under this tree (or even under the Rockefeller Plaza one), and it has been given to me, my sister, and thousands of others who walk these trails! I sit here at my laptop about to sum up this 46er journey with a recollection of our finishing steps on our final peak. I take a look back at past journal entries, my vast collection of photos, each of our letters to the Adirondack Mountain Club, and I search my soul for the right words to describe how thankful I am for this gift. Is there a word that I have been saving for this moment to carry the magnitude of my feelings of how lucky I am to be here…now… to say how precious these experiences, both tender and grand, have been and what they have meant to me?
The answer of course is No there are no words, only actions. The best thing I can do is NOT to think of this as a journey’s end but a continuation and a landmark on a much larger one- one that has no end.
So, I will put one foot in front of the other and repeat. I will look around at all around me. I will feed on the energy of the majestic landscape, the rushing water, the changing skies. I will breath deep and exhale. I will find time to give back to the trails that have given me back my very life. I will never take any of it for granted.
And so, even though there are no words to adequately express the magnitude of this moment and how I feel about this place, these faces, and most of all how blessed I am to share this with my sister by my side , I will spit out as many as I can muster up, once again, to try and capture the mood of the day. We begin once again on a crisp October morning at ADK Loj on Heart Lake…
We arrived in the High Peaks the afternoon before and turned onto the Loj Rd greeted by views across the field to the MacIntyres, to the slides of our finishing peak, and even a snow-capped Algonquin in the distance.
Once checked in, I headed out to the lake for a closer look to set the mood for the following day. After exchanging stories and backgrounds with the other guests over a Loj-style dinner buffet, we headed back to our room for some shut-eye while visions of mountaintops danced in our heads.
After Breakfast the next day, we checked out of the Loj and into the trail head, where we each grabbed a Larger rock to throw in our packs, accompanying the walnut sized one we had saved from our previous Colden attempt 2 years ago. These rocks WILL find their final resting place upon the summit long before this morning’s sun sets on the shores of Lake Colden or dips behind the Macs. No turning back – not today! We made sure we picked the best possible day, so that no Ice-monsters will stand in our way. He bit us hard 2 years ago, so today we seek redemption and a fitting finish to an EPIC journey.
Once again, we are starting with the all too familiar trek to Marcy Dam, followed by a climb up to Lake Arnold, and then up to the false summit (the point we bailed last time) and then up to the true summit and down the South-western slopes to Lake Colden and through Avalanche Pass for our return trip. In order to save more time for the more enjoyable parts of the loop, we have decided to Jog the distance to Marcy Dam. These days I am more up for a jog, since I have recently done my first obstacle 5k race and low and behold, now actually like running! – Whoduthunk??
We whiz past the morning crowds and pause at our landmark for a quick selfie. Now we will slow the pace and ENJOY every moment of this “final” walk. We have certainly earned it!
Making the split-off toward Lake Arnold, we are now moving at more of a stroll through the autumn woods. This year’s foliage is less brilliant due to the warmer than normal September. In some areas the leaves have not yet forfeited their green to reveal the warm side of the color wheel, while in other areas fall has already fallen. The later seems to be the case in the trail we now walk but we will take the muted color over the icy slip n slide we attempted to navigate 2 years prior.
After all, last year’s intense foliage display more than made up for it! As I walk along and see splashes of color, my mind drifts to a day this time twelve months earlier, when I experienced without question, the most vivid colored walk in the woods in any memory I have, on a solo hike up over The Brothers to Big Slide, followed up a day later with Therese on Indian Head, Colvin and Blake.
(click here for full gallery).
My mind would drift again and again throughout the day, as I reflect back to all of the long wonderful days gone by that have led us to this milestone day.
But there is plenty around us to keep us in the moment too. Rays of sunshine filtering through the forest canopy. The bright red berry I’ve seen over & over and have never been able to resist a photo opp.
The transformation in my surroundings I have witnessed time after time as I gain elevation, sometimes subtle, but often as dramatic as summer to winter within a single day. Indeed, even today, the grass is layered with frost and interspersed with patches of the white stuff, revealing a taste of seasons to come, as we arrive at Lake Arnold just above 3500 ft.
With an army of bare sticks standing along the slopes before us, in contrast against the deep blue sky, we pull up a boulder on the shoreline to pause for a snack. A passerby arrives on the scene, just in time to snap a photo of me and my sister, then we continue on.
On our way to our next vista we recognize the formation we dubbed ICE MONSTER the last time we passed this way, although now he is much more tamed. No longer standing guard as a menacing presence, he lets us pass with ease.
Then we arrive at the false summit. The zero-visibility spot where we had previously performed an about-face, had so much more to show us this time around! We lingered here for a while to take it all in. Such a beautiful spot with grand views of the MacIntyres and more! Yes we will linger to our hearts content today. This day belongs to us!
It was funny to see the trail markers and cairns pointing the way, as none of this was visible on the first attempt (Click here to read about that attempt). Now it was finally time to venture into unexplored territory.
We dipped back into the trees and walked for a while until we arrived at a ladder that led us up a good stretch of the next would-be scramble – HOW LUXURIOUS! Sometimes when I see these I wonder “why”? The terrain beneath these ladders is often moderately difficult at best, while some of our unassisted scrambles have been far more challenging. Not that I would have wanted ladders everywhere, or necessarily would not have welcomed this one. Just something that made me go “hmmm” I suppose.
After some more red berries, patches of snow and a neat cave, we arrived at some pretty awesome views and of course the pile of rocks where we made our offerings. including the walnut sized rock from our last non-visit.
And then, after another short jaunt, just like that, almost hard to believe, we became (unofficially yet happily) two more members in this elite club of hikers – WE WERE NOW 46-ers!!!
We looked around at the peaks surrounding us and let the idea sink in that we have actually been to all of these amazing places, and got to each summit under our own power. Each one of these bumps that scattered the horizon in every direction had their own story filled with memories that would last a lifetime.
That last sentiment is indeed the reason I spend so many hours typing away, trying to choose the best words to describe this indescribable experience. I want these memories to be documented so that I can go back to any moment at any time and relive the journey. Of course, images and words don’t tell the whole story. To fully relive the moment, I would have to physically go back, which I am always perfectly happy to oblige. But even then, that would be a new moment with its own story. Each one of these gems, happens only once – a precious moment in time never to be duplicated, but eternally alive in each of our hearts.
These are the thoughts that consumed me as we sat for our extended summit visit atop Mount Colden, conversing with fellow “Aspire-ees” over lunch, and posed for our long awaited 46-er photos, proud and honored beyond words. We took out the Colden patches we gave ourselves as celebration patches, to hold ourselves over until we received our 46er patches and documented the momentous occasion.
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So, we proceeded to pry ourselves away and begin our descent down the red-marked Lake Colden trail.
At this point we were higher on life than the 47,144’ elevation we reached today, and were downright giddy!
So, when we reached another wooden ladder Therese broke into a Chorus Line routine, and I was quick-thinking enough, and could not resist hitting the record button to capture this fun moment on video.
(click here for video of Therese’ song and dance)
We encountered a few groups ascending in our opposite direction, and of course we were so pleased with ourselves we had to share with the world what we had accomplished today! True to form of the happy-hiker community, everyone was genuinely happy for us and offered enthusiastic congratulations, which we ate up! One gentleman (a fellow 46-er) in one of the groups, upon hearing the news, asked us if we had received our patches yet, and proceeded to dig through his pack and pulled our two of his extras and gave them to us! It was like being a kid on Christmas day …but BETTER! We were so happy and appreciative of his gesture, and when he took a picture of us posing with our new badges of honor, I think our smiles told the story.
We reached the bottom of our plunge, just in time to plunge our feet into an ice-cold Lake Colden and exchange them for new ones. Well one these new feet must have not liked the leg it was attached to, and all of the sudden I felt a tightening creeping in – “NO-NO-NO-STOP-STOP-STOP-OUCH-OUCH- AAAAUUGH!!!!” – Charley-horse!!! Not the worst one I’ve had but I usually get them mid-sleep not mid-hike. I was able to work the cramp through and it turned out to be a minor setback. It wouldn’t be the Adirondacks without some sort of injury after all. This time it was my turn. If that was our setback, I’d call this a perfect day in the Daks!
We began to leisurely make our way through one of the most beautiful spots in the region – Avalanche Pass. As we navigated and admired the newly rebuilt “Hitchup Matildas”, wooden walkways attached to the cliff faces that rise out of the lake, we marveled at the sights before us.
Across the two lakes that make up the pass (Colden and Avalanche), the vertical north-western slopes of Mount Colden rise from the water revealing the famous Trap Dike – a gash in the mountains cliffs that only the most adventurous (or insane) climbers attempt to make a traveled route. People have died attempting it. Still, I will have to admit it is very tempting. I’d have to say that it’s probably on my to-do list, but I may take with me someone who has done it before, if I do it at all.
On the western shores of the lakes that hold our traveled route the sheer cliffs of avalanche mountain rise over our heads.
The scene is rugged, majestic, serene, and awe inspiring all at once. It’s no wonder so many regard this area as their favorite in all of the Adirondacks.
As we reach the northernmost shore we pause for one last look at this grand view and give our thanks to this amazing gift that is the Adirondacks.
Back to normal trail hiking now and coming to the close of our big lollipop loop, I turn to my sister and say, “If you want to jog back from Marcy Dam I am game!” …And that’s what we did. We are anxious to get back to comforts of hike recuperation. Although leaving our mountains tonight with our newly realized goal will be bittersweet for sure. It’s hard to believe we will not be coming back in a week to conquer our next high peak. What is next?
The following day, on my ride on i-90 to my Massachusetts home away from the mountains (my heart’s true home), the events from our previous day and of our entire Adirondack journey replay in my head, and I feel the need to express my thanks for this experience on the Aspiring 46ers Facebook page, and then in the following weeks as I struggle with the aftermath and am filling out my paperwork for registering as a 46-er, I feel the need to express and reflect once again in my letter to the organization. My sister did the same. They sum up, perhaps the best, how we feel about this place, this experience, each other, and everyone who shares this amazing magical journey. Here are each of our letters:
My 46er letter
It all started Labor Day weekend 2015. In the middle of my NH48 run, I pause for a weekend backpack trip with my sister, and a change of scenery. She is slowly chipping away at her 46er list as this is closer to her home in NY. Right away I get the feeling that this is a special place much different than the Whites I have grown accustomed to. We hike into our base camp at JBL and the next morning begin our long hike through “HA-BA-SA”, and my intro to the wonderful world of the Daks. If I had to use one word to describe my reaction once we reached Haystack summit it would have to be “Magic”. I seemed to have been transported to a land where only beauty exists as far as the eye can see. Gone are the roads and towns below and only lakes, rivers, valleys, streams, meadows, forest, and these magnificent mountains all around me remain. The sky could not be bluer, the breeze could not be fresher, the smells could not be sweeter. It is love at first sight! After an equally magical day two on Armstrong, Gothics and the Wolfjaws, it’s clear that I have officially found my new quest. I am now an “Aspiring 46er”.
So many memories filled my journey since then. Too many to list here, but some highlights (and a few low-lights) include the following: A lazy barefoot summer afternoon lounge on an unlikely deserted Giant summit after a day of open views on RPR. Bonding with a stranger on an epic struggle up the slopes of Algonquin when this solo hiker girl and I kept each other company up the final scrambles, giving each other inspiring words to keep going. A weekend of peak foliage on Big Slide solo and Colvin/Blake with my sister, witnessing colors I never knew could be so brilliant! A two-attempt long frustrating slog from upper works to tag Marshall, losing the trail, and sinking waist-deep in snow, and setting a record for use of the F-word in one hike. Having seemingly the entire high peaks region to myself on a profoundly quiet peaceful winter hooky day on Nippletop and Dial. Introducing my niece to the Daks on Sawteeth witnessing her pure joy to be showered by the wall of water in Rainbow Falls (unfortunately ending with a trip to the hospital after diabetic complications). A surprisingly enjoyable trek to Allen filled with such varied scenery including lush meadows, moss covered forests, brooks, ponds, steep slippery scrambles, and some amazing spider-webs. Connecting with my sister and with the mountains on a deeper level on some epic (and MUDDY) multi-night backpack trips to Dix range, Cliff-Redfield, and Seward range (one of which included learning some backwoods lessons the hard way after a scare, getting separated from my partner). Saying goodbye to an amazing golden retriever and a dear friend on Skylight. Connecting with a wonderful new friend, in a long fun-filled day in the Santanoni range. An icy, late fall bail-out on Colden, redeemed with a perfect, early-fall day 2 yrs later as our finishing peak!
It’s so hard to believe this journey is nearing an end, but really, it has only just begun. I have learned so much about myself, and more importantly, have been so blessed to share this experience and strengthen the bond with my sister. I have seen so many heavenly places, and trudged through hellish lands, en-route to this final achievement and have met many wonderful people along the way that seem to open their hearts and genuinely care to offer helpful advice and share their stories, welcoming a stranger into their world. The day after finishing this amazing journey I posted the following words on the Aspiring 46ers Facebook page that sums up how I feel about these beautiful places and people in the Daks:
Yesterday my sister and I summited Mt Colden and became two more of the 46ers. To me that title means so much more than the number it displays. This journey had taught me to appreciate life and the simple beauty it possesses to its fullest. At times the experience has humbled me, and others has enriched and lifted my spirits to heights I never thought possible. To those still “Aspiring”, my advice to you would be to ENJOY THE JOURNEY! Weather your pace is fast or slow, each time you set foot on that trail take a piece of that day with you and hold it forever near and dear to your heart. Each hike has a gift to give for all who are willing to receive. I believe that the mountains speak to each and every one of us if we have an open ear and open hearts. Sometimes they speak loud and clear, other times in a soft whisper so listen closely. There are few things so precious in this life and they should never be taken for granted. I am truly thankful to all those on this page who have had so much great advice, spectacular images, and amazing stories to share. I have met so many genuinely caring people on the trail, and even hiked alongside a few of you. Weather we have met (or ever will meet) face to face, I’ll always consider you one of the family. One big happy hiker family! Thank you and see you on the trail!
Always Aspiring,
Mick Coste
Therese’s 46er Letter
The summer of 2012 marked the summer I read 3 books in a row about rugged earthy women “survivalists” (including the popular “Wild”). I was remembering a promise I made to myself a long time ago to hike the Appalachian Trail. Finding myself mother of 3 and tuitions to pay I decide to take that remembrance and transform it to a new goal more aligned to my current lifestyle. It was time for me to learn about “my own” Adirondack Mountains.
My first peak was Marcy and I recall listening to Cat Stevens on the August 2012 morning as I headed out from my summer cabin on Peck Lake in the southern Adirondacks and arrived at the ADK Loj parking lot just before 9AM. The smell of the woods felt like an old dear friend as I tromped along the van Hoevenberg trail, through Marcy Dam and then straight on to Mt. Marcy and back. It was a good, long day with a peaceful visit to Indian Falls on the return where I was blessed with purple irises. A few more peaks that fall and I had begun to hike through my “unrest” as I awakened something inside that had gone dormant too long.
The next couple of years were filled with other milestones, particularly my first 2 (and only) Marathons (NYC and Boston). In 2015, hanging up my marathon shoes, I began again in earnest on Labor Day Weekend with my brother Michael (Mick) Coste. We bagged 7 peaks that weekend and made memories that still stay with me. That trip was perhaps one of my favorites of all times. HaBaSa on day 1. Gothics, Armstrong and both Wolfjaws on day 2. It felt so good to be in the rhythm of nature -Walking, talking, joking… and the silence between. Some of the notable memories can be found in my journal of that time:
The stars at night from the JBL, green things and how happy they make me, cables and scrambles up esp. Saddleback and Gothics, summer breezes on summits, jumping in the stream at the end of an arduous day, the loud snoring in the 10-bunker… and resignation when I slept in the kitchen, a baby fawn and its mother, hiking out to an empty parking lot and no shuttle and running to Marcy Field to get the car, a clean cotton shirt at the end of the hike.
Many hikes that followed had lists like these. The fall of 2015 had some classic great weather And the fall of 2016 was even more spectacular! Long lingering discussions about past, present, future with a friend (Shailaja); More memories with my brother Mike; Every hike had a story, and I tried to catalog most of them if only briefly. Colden took 2 tries (as the first was icy and we were not as prepared as we thought!. Stabilicers are NOT microspikes!). We decided on that day (10/22/15) that we would return and make this mountain our finish. And what a finish!! Arguably in my top 3 hikes (though it is a tough call)
The majority of the peaks were spent with my brother Mike. We shared so much together over the last few years. As I think about this past summer leading up to our finish I realize I have a new/old best friend. Together we said goodbye to Simba (my dog and our hiking companion ), we shared family concerns, we laughed and created inside jokes, we befriended an energetic and amazing Anna Pacheco who will also hopefully finish this year, we paused, we rushed, we relaxed, we schemed… we were kids (again).
My solo journeys – inner and outer – were also cherished. I journaled, reflected, contemplated… and perhaps grew. Or at least was calmed for a while… Some excerpts seem to reflect this:
The contemplation today was all about what a strange journey this is… Sometimes it seems that the hike is about trying to re-find my youth – the feeling of comfort and safety that still comes to me when I recollect the moment of first being enthralled by a bumble bee in a flower, or the clouds, or a fireplace when all of the flames have died away and all that is left is the burning coals with mystery and stories for the making. Other times I am all too aware of the despair of our times. Of the poverty that needs tending. Of the incessant rush and squeeze to achieve and get in all that we can so that a life is well lived in spite of the crushing forces of a society gone wrong somewhere. I am aware of my own motherhood – its gifts and its pressures. And I walk… I walk with these thoughts… and I walk with my aching feet… and I notice the purple mushroom and the blue berry and the ferns and the smells… and I breathe. And I think… what a strange journey this is. And Oh Lord Protect My Child!
Other excerpts apologize to Mother Earth for what we have done to her. And the heartfelt, cathartic rush of tears at my smallness and inability to make right what we have all made wrong…
And I pray. I pray that Her resilience and ability to heal is stronger than I know. I ask Her to forgive us…The smog, the pavement, the trampling on Her, our host…And I feel the natives in my blood and my bones. Perhaps it is they I am channeling at this moment –
Through it all – the joy and the pain, the bluebird days, the mud; the autumn air and the sweetness of leaves, which I am sure is somehow mingled with the smell of baking apple pie; the first views at Indian Head or Avalanche Pass; the summits so comforting and grand all at once; the colors of every season; the starkness and pure silence of winter; the comradery with new friends, old friends, or just a passerby… all of it wraps up in a beautiful gift which is “my” Adirondacks. Mine and some 10,000 others!
Thank You,
Therese Coste
In the aftermath of realizing a goal that had been pretty much our purpose over the past 2 years, We both suffered from the “What Now” affect. It’s like being a kid at Christmas and feeling that let down after all the presents have been opened. We really needed a hike for the sake of hiking. It was peak foliage and once more, we called on Vermont to satisfy the craving and get us out of our funk. We took a hooky day, walked the ridge of Mansfield from the Forehead to the Adams-Apple and we laughed and laughed. We were kids once more! “Bring on the next adventure! I’m thinking PEMI-LOOP!”
32nd ENTRY: SOOOO MANY COLORS – 10/6&7/16
Adirondack High Peaks
(Big Slide #19, Colvin #20, Blake #21)
File this under WORDS CANNOT DESCRIBE! So I’ll keep it brief and get to the pictures.
A peak foliage autumn weekend in the middle of my 46er quest (and immediately following my NH48 finish).
Day one: I went solo over “The Brothers” to Big Slide. I didn’t think colors could ever be that brilliant. To this day, I still consider this the best foliage hike ever! I felt up close and a part of every painted leaf.
Day two: Therese joined me for a much longer hike up to Indian Head and then to Colvin and Blake. While Blake was wooded, muddy and evergreen, Colvin and especially Indian Head and Fish Hawk Cliffs more than made up for it and offered magnificent views of Upper/Lower Ausable Lakes, the Great Range. All painted with the vibrant colors seen the day before but at a wider scale on a region wide canvas.
AND NOW A HAND IT OVER TO GOD’S ART MUSEUM…
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DAY TWO – COLVIN & BLAKE (VIA INDIAN HEAD/ FISH HAWK)-
ENTRY 30: A SUMMERY SUMMARY – 2017
Adirondack High Peaks
(Dix Range: #31-35, Allen: #36, Cliff/Redfield: #37-38, Sewards Range: #39-42, Santanoni Range: #43-45)
Well it’s been an incredible summer in the Daks. I have so many stories to tell. In the interest of catching up, I think I will try to keep my ramblings brief for a change. We’ll see how I do for this 5 part series. Each one of these hikes deserve a full description. So, it may end up being long-winded after all, but i’ll give it the old college try (whatever that means).
When we last left our heroes, summer had just begun with two epic hikes: the first with my niece Janelle bound for Sawteeth that started out amazing and ended up with a word I wished I hadn’t learned – Ketoacidosis, and the 2nd with none other than my trusty companion awesome sis Therese, deep into the wilderness for a tribute to an amazing dog upon the summit of Skylight, followed by Gray. We hit the trails with everything we had after that for a total of 17 additional peaks (2 in Vermont), and now as I begin to write this, and summer comes to a close, we are looking forward to OUR FINISHING PEAK -Colden for #46!! We will finish this one where we left it two autumn seasons ago, when we had to bail due to unexpected conditions, and maybe some lack of preparedness.
It’s so hard to believe this journey is nearing an end (as I begin this writing). I have learned so much about myself and been so blessed to share this experience and strengthen the bond with my sister. I have seen so many heavenly places, and trudged through hellish lands, en-route to this final achievement and have met many wonderful people along the way that seem to open their hearts and genuinely care to offer helpful advice and share their stories, welcoming a stranger into their world.
So many elements on so many levels went into the realization of the dream. I am forever grateful for each stride, step, scramble, twist, turn, backtrack, reroute, stretch, hop, sink, slip, slide, stray, find, soak, push, pull, ache, pain, poke, prod, grunt, groan, huff, puff, sweat, scream, curse, curse, curse-some-more, whistle, crash, crawl, scratch, shuffle, freeze, thaw, scare, malfunction, thirst, hunger, tear, shred, claw, tears, laugh, story, trail, road, lot, ladder, bridge, leaf, branch, tree, rock, bolder, cliff, scree, slime, snow, ice, slush, MUDPIT, bog, swamp, spider-web, field, forest, glade, vista, stream, brook, river, lake, pond, flood-land, waterfall, fog, mist, sunshine, cloud, sky, sign, cairn, trail-marker, lodge, alarm, nightmare, dream, bird, critter, dear, MOOSE, bug, snake, breakfast, lunch, dinner, fourth-meal, fifth-meal, snack, drink, blister, scrape, cut, burn, rash, chafe, headache, heartache, muscle-ache, joint-ache, “fuck”, “fuck”, “fuck”, redirect, recovery, sound, silence, smell, taste, touch, moment, memory, discovery, mission, victory, defeat, bliss, blunder, mistake, decision, reward, sigh, peace, gift, blessing, view, view, view, view, epiphany, prayer, research, plan-A, plan-B, plan-C, plan-A (again), pack, unpack, repack, purchase, refund, frustration, realization, discussion, dispute, agreement, promise, compromise, disappointment, lesson, breakthrough, hallelujah, hoot, holler, celebration, rejuvenation, transformation, revelation, alteration, stipulation, condemnation, vindication, rebirth, beginning, hope, despair, strength, weakness, perseverance, glory, prize, (Well, you get the picture. Shall I go on?)…Thankful for all of this and more. For they have all been stepping stones upon the path before me that has brought me to this point in the endless journey, which is always waiting to lead me to more amazing places unseen. I truly cannot wait to see where it leads me next.
Well so much for being brief!! Let’s try that again! We begin with a trip into The Dix Range…
Part 1 Dix Range 7/15-7/16/17: Having exhausted most of the day-hike options in the Daks, we began to plan some backpack trips to get some of the lengthier adventures underway. The first of these trips was on the cusp of being a very long day trip, but we decided to make it an overnight so that we could enjoy more of the trek and not have to race through or hike by moonlight. The Dix Range consist of 5 summits in the easternmost reaches of the high peaks. We drove in on Elk Lake Rd with high hopes. The overflow hiker parking lot near Clear Pond had a sign posted stating that the Elk Lake lot was full and hikers would need to park here and walk the road. We decided to see for ourselves, and good thing too because just as we arrived at Elk Lake a group was finishing up their hike and we got to take their spot.The weekend’s leftover morning drizzles we knew would be the only drops encountered as we made our way into camp near Slide Brook Shelter.
We made short work of the hike in, set up camp by 3:30 and found ourselves twiddling our thumbs. Neither of us brought a book or a deck of cards, and it was too late to squeeze in a peak, so we took a stroll down the trail a ways, and enjoyed the slower pace of the forest, having nowhere to go. Some of the finer quiet gentler details of the woods awaken when you pause: the trickling of a small stream, the glitter of the sunshine against the raindrop coated leaves, a critter scurries by, a bird calls and another echoes in the distance. I share with my companion, how as much as I needed those solo days in NH, I am loving having her company these days. It just seems like having someone to share the experience makes it that much more enriching and enjoyable.
As we heat up our first camp meal, a snake slithers in to investigate. Our only neighbor set up across the clearing in a hammock, arrives from his hike as we are chowing down. After some chit-chat we pack it in early to get our morning start at first light.
The hike up the crumbly Macomb slide brings back memories of Tripyramids and Owls Head from my NH days. I share with Therese a few tricks I learned along the way of traveling up loose rock, such as not traveling directly behind the other downhill in case of a dislodged tumbler, to yell “ROCK” if you send one rolling, and if you are the receiver turn and face downhill so the rock hits your pack rather than your face. Being out in the open like this has its advantages too, such as the glorious sunshine and the increasing views behind us.
A large precariously balanced boulder marks the top of the slide and soon after we reach our first of 5 peaks and #31 overall – Macomb Mt. The day is young at 9am, but there are many peaks to visit, so we enjoy our view for a while and continue along.
After a short descent into a wooded col, we rise again up some open rocky scrambles with even more impressive vistas, and enter tree-cover once again. We pass over the summit of South Dix without seeing any markers, but press on to our 3rd stop Grace Peak (aka East Dix). Greeted with a surprisingly striking panorama of near and distant peaks, we pull up some rock slab and get comfortable over an early lunch.
Another visitor lets us know about the hard-to-find markings on South Dix, and we take note as we have to pass back over before T-ing off to the 2nd leg to reach our last two peaks. We enjoy the show some more, while fueling up, and retrace our steps over to the tree with the small high yellow summit marker and smaller carving of SDIX down lower.
The next climb is the most relentless of the day. There is some serious Houghing and Puffing going on and finally up a rocky ledge and a plateau, arriving on peak #4 Hough. Another hiker is sprawled on the tiny sitting area, apparently littering the area with orange peels, and repeatedly bragging about how few peaks he has left to finish the 46ers list. We are happy to see him go, and salvage some well deserved enjoyment out of our view, with the steep pointy false peak known as Beckhorn in the distance and none other than the great Dix Mountain beyond that. Well that thing aint gonna climb itself! Time to keep on keepin on!
I don’t think we spoke a word from that moment through the climb up and over Beckhorn and up to Dix Mountain. For that matter, there wasn’t much to say during our extended stay at the summit. Sometimes, the scenery just speaks for itself, or should I say to you through itself. Or perhaps (no I’m sure of it) It is something else speaking to us, something bigger and better than all the paradise we see before us. If this is indeed a slice of heaven, it’s no wonder so many strive to get there, and yet somehow so many of us lose our way. Indeed, we could all use some brushing up of our navigation skills. “MAP… COMPASS… KNOW HOW TO USE IT!” Well for now we won’t try to solve the world’s problems end enjoy another slice while our feet recover from the miles…
Eventually breaking ourselves away from the grand finale of our amazing trip, we backtrack to Beckhorn, and head down the steep (AND MARKED) trail of the same name. There’s no use in pointing out the pain in our knees or our throbbing feet, anymore that there is to point out how blessed we have been to witness the glorious spectacle before us. All we can do is experience it for better or worse and come out of the woods that much better for it.
Even when Therese jambs her arthritic toe on a rock and snaps her trekking pole in half somewhere around Lillian Brook, the bigger and better picture stays with us. How can it not. It is so big. It is so good. And we are so small. We make it back to camp and make quick work of the breakdown, so that we may ride the wave of this vision engraved in our heads and hearts, before fatigue gets the better of us, and has us longing for nothing but a slice of pizza, a shower and a soft mattress. On the ride back to civilization, we are already scheming about our next adventure- the often-dreaded Allen Mountain. What is wrong with us??
Part 2 Allen Mountain 7/26/17: So, ten days later we awake before the sun at The Hoot Owl Lodge to finally get the monkey off our back and take on the beast of all beasts – Allen Mountain.
The part that makes this such a grueling hike for most, is the long flat (sometimes soggy) approach through logging roads and along state/private land borders, met with a steep slippery climb up the slimy slide to a wooded summit. We would soon find out for ourselves just how “tough” it was.
We signed in to the trailhead register at 6:09, dipped down and crossed the Hudson on a recently reconstructed bridge, and were on our way on this foggy start to a long day!
To get our heads wrapped around this long trek, I used an approach that had served me well previously on NH’s Owl’s Head (a similar-in many ways- slog deep into the Pemi-Wilderness of the White Mountains), and that was to break the hike into chunks, and think of it more as 3 separate hikes. Hike #1: The hike along the yellow marked trail 123 to flowed lands and hanging spear falls. Hike #2: The climb along the unmarked heard path, up the slide, to the summit, and back down. Hike #3: The hike out at the end of a long day.
Therese liked this idea as I explained it to her and gladly adopted the approach. Our packs have some extra amenities today, to make the journey more bearable. We each have 3 pairs of socks with us, and Therese has an extra pair of trail-runners. We also, after a tip from a fellow Aspiring 46-er, are carrying microspikes to assist with the ascent up the slide and the infamous “red slime”. Plenty of water, nutrition, and energy-boost items, should keep the pep in our step.
We make our way past Lake Jimmy in the morning fog, and into a grassy meadow where we wasted no time soaking our footwear and legwear, brushing against the tall wet grass from last night’s rainfall. As the sun began to do its work to burn off the fog and we reached our first road-like section, Therese proceeded to break into a jog. I reluctantly followed suit best I could. It wasn’t long before we reached our first muddy area. We did our best to step on solid footing but quickly realized this effort was futile.
We reached the Mt. Adams split-off and an old caretaker’s cabin, followed by more meadow sections, some overgrown trails (now soaking our shirtsleeves), some more road-like straightaways (with more jogging) and finally a spooky swampy (beaver inhabited?) section where the last remnants of smog hovered amongst the bare stripped, scorched trees, and dew-drops clinging to thousands of creepy spiderwebs, glimmered in rays of a low-lying sun. I remember thinking of this place as “death-valley” but in a good way! We strolled through this area stopping often to take pictures, but knew we couldn’t dilly-dally too long with the miles ahead of us.
Another new bridge led us across the Opalescent River and then we got a glimpse of Allen through the trees. Shortly after this we left the marked trail and began Hike #2 as we made 2 small water crossings on logs and rock-hopping across Lower Twin Brook, then started to gain some elevation, finally!
This felt more like the Adirondack forests we had come to know and love, although a bit more removed from the mainstream heavily trafficked areas, and a more tender enchanted remote back-woodsy feel. We made our way past a few trail junctions and some more unassisted but very doable water crossings over Skylight Brook and then Allen Brook at a small waterfall.
The slick bare rock scrambles began as we started up the Allen slide, and soon enough we felt the grip of our soles slip out from beneath us as we encountered our first patch of red slime.
Therese immediately donned the spikes, but I decided to wait until it was more widespread. I found myself regretting that decision as I managed to get myself in the middle of a larger patch of the slime on a steeper incline with no convenient spot to sit and strap on the spikes. But somehow, I managed to get them on and make may way out of the slip-n-slide. And just like that the slipping gave way to gripping and we enjoyed the rest of the steep climb with ever increasing views behind us.
The trail kicked off to the left and into the now shortened trees and we could feel ourselves getting close. I stopped at a clearing for a view and then heard a distinct “woot-wooot” call in the distance that could only mean one thing- we had arrived! As I hurried to catch up to my sister I could hear the muffled chit-chat of her voice and two others. When I arrived the father of the other group shouted “you made it” then gave me a high-five, followed by some more friendly chit-chat, and getting him to snap a summit photo of me and my companion.
Then the father/son duo departed to leave us to enjoy our victory. We sat on our perch just beyond the summit and gobbled up our food, changed our socks and enjoyed our view as we prepared to do the whole thing in reverse.
Aside from a bashed shin and general fatigue, the descent went smoothly and before we knew it we were on Hike #3 and finishing up the day on a high note. This had the “thankful for an awesome day” vibe to it as we passed each area with a now familiar look. We gleefully splashed across the brooks, sloshed through the muck, jogged the straightaways, recalled the now web-less “death-valley area”, shuffled our way through the now dry meadows, pleased at how pleasant this experience had turned out.
We knew we were in for an adventure as we signed in to that trailhead register at sunrise. 11 ½ hours and 19+ miles later, all I can say, is that this peak definitely gets a bad rap. I guess it’s all in the attitude. We had an amazing day experiencing the beautiful variety that this journey possesses. Yes, it was a long (3 pair of socks) day with plenty of mud and some steep slippery scrambles, a few bumps and bruises, and some cursing. But the good far outweighed the bad and gave us yet another a truly memorable day in the Daks. So thankful I get to experience all these amazing places with my sister.
Part 3 Cliff-Redfield 8/8&9/17:
“Day one of an epic overnight that gave us more than we expected or wanted, deep in the Daks. It all started with the long hike in, set up camp, and the steep scrambles and mud-fest of CLIFF ooooh Sooooo much mud!”
After another wake-up at Hoot Owl Lodge, we got another early start from Upper Works to get to base camp near Uphill Brook Lean-to for our 2nd backpack trip of the summer. We could have tried to cram this into one very long day, but I think we made the right choice stretching it into two. Little did we know how good of a decision it would prove to be.
Once again, we picked the only few dry days of the week, in the wettest summer in recent records. Right away, the trail is giving us an early taste of things to come, as we place our feet on submerged rocks and twigs that are swimming in…yep you guessed it… MUDD! This weekend we have made hiking a priority, over my son’s birthday and Therese’s anniversary, so needless to say we are committed to finishing our 46er quest by the upcoming fall.
We walk along and across the now well-acquainted Calamity Brook and discover a side trail that reveals a monument giving us a harsh reminder that people really DIE out here!
Then another clearing gives us a glimpse at an old friend (scratch that – an old foe) of days gone by. If you’ve read my previous chapters, you know the villain of which I speak. Then sure enough, around the corner we spot the cairn that no longer lives beneath feet of snow, and I decide to give it a proper salute.
Then we are treated to a couple of more friendly and familiar scenes, in Flowed Lands and then Lake Colden before we bang a right and head into unexplored territory.
Because it worked so well on Allen, we are breaking this into 4 hikes: The hike into camp, Up and down Cliff, Up and down Redfield, and the hike out. We even come up with a rhyme for each one. I forget them now but I think the first was something like “Hike number one, a day in the sun, now isn’t this a lot of fun?”
The travel along Opalescent River offers some dramatic water features, making the long trip into camp much easier to take, and the miles melt away in no time.
At one of our stops, overlooking some gushing rapids, we meet up with a solo hiker and his dog for some brief chit-chat. We exchange each other’s destinations, and learn that his list is shockingly extensive. He is on vacation from a long-distance drive (I forget where he was from) and he had a close encounter with a Bear last night in his camp on Ma… Ma… Ma… (no I cannot speak the name) …and then he named about 10 peaks he is “supposed to be at” in the next 24 hours (geez don’t sound so thrilled! That doesn’t sound much fun). I didn’t have the heart to tell him that at the rate he is moving and the amount of gabbing he is doing, he probably won’t make it. Not to mention the fact that he is carrying an outrageous amount of gear in two large overstuffed backpacks, one on each shoulder. After a while we nickname him “2-PAC” and have quite a few chuckles at his expense.
Shortly after our encounter we come to the most impressive gorge yet. As I cautiously lean over for some photos and vids, I remember thinking “boy, one slip and it’s over”!! …and then, right on cue, as I started to back away from the ledge, I tripped on a root and fell (thankfully) BACKWARDS. There I was, like a flipped turtle struggling to get upright and struggling to control my laughter. Therese was nowhere in sight, so I eventually managed to get on my feet. About an hour later we make it to camp and find a spot that’s reasonably dry amongst the muddy surface, grab a bite to eat, and head off in our much lighter day packs to grab our first peak.
Cliff is the shorter of the two climbs so it’s a good choice given the time of day and the effort we have put in already just getting here. Every time you make the drastic switch in weight, it seems as though you can fly. It’s a good thing too, because we soon find out this will be some steep scrambling, but before that we avoid the worst mud we have seen yet (…avoid the worst of it for now anyway).
Up the steep cliffs of Cliff we get some fantastic views behind us. In front of us, the final scramble leads to the pathetic summit sign of our #37 – Cliff Mountain!
The summit is nothing to “oooh” and “aaah” over so we make our way back down the cliffs, many times on our butts, and reach the muddy area once again. By now we are pretty tired and want to get back to camp to relax, so perhaps a bit careless in our choice of footing we (and by “we” I mean mostly Therese) become victims of the massive MUDPIT. Therese, at one point, plunges waste deep into a particularly nasty one. I think this sets the record for sure! “Hike number two, trudging through goo, and there is still so much to do.”
Just as we change into clean dry clothes and get dinner on the stove and pull up a log to unwind, another group arrives and makes their presence known LOUD AND CLEAR. We both look at each other, eyes rolling, as if to say “Are you shitting me?” and try to drown out the noise with some music from my iPod. After a while thankfully they did settle down and we enjoyed some peace and quiet and drifted off to sleep to rest up for another early start.
“Day two: Even after all these miles and all these smiles, we are still learning lessons in the woods. A little scare (ok a big one) tested our skills reasoning and composure, and in the end, humbled us and made us stronger and closer than ever…”
We were up, done with breakfast, and off on our way just as our neighbors were waking. The idea was to stay ahead of them today so we could enjoy the peaceful wilderness. Today was supposed to be the sunnier of the two days, but so far, it’s just cloudy and foggy. Be that as it may, we are hopeful for a great day. Our first order of business was to restock our water supply. Therese, having a larger water filter, was finished with the task before me, and started out ahead. When I was ready I set out to catch up. This is when things took an unsettling turn.
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After walking a bit, I looked down at my All-Trails app and noticed that it wasn’t tracking me correctly, thinking I was reclimbing Cliff. No big deal, I would let Therese know when I catch up that she had the only working app today (She uses Gia, which seems to be a bit more reliable). I also noticed that I had forgotten to move my Spot locator from my large pack to this one. Still not a huge deal, as Therese had her Garmin with her. Looks like Therese is the prepared one today. Thank goodness for hiking partners. Ok now let’s catch up to her.
The gushing Uphill Brook we were now travelling along, offered still more impressive water scenes and I couldn’t resist leaning over the ledge for some photos. Of course, this put me further behind, and I picked up the pace to race ahead and rejoin my partner. In my rush and haste, I soon found myself in an oddly sparse heard path. In the Adirondacks, the so called “heard paths” were really well defined to this point. So, seeing something this faint struck me as a bit strange. Still, I had been on paths like this before, in the Whites while setting out for Owl’s Head, so I continued on.
As I marched further onward and upward the path grew more sparse and overgrown. This is a 46er in the Daks. It’s very peculiar that so many must come through here and don’t leave a more worn path than this! Why isn’t Therese waiting for me? It’s been at least 20 minutes and we usually aren’t apart this long. I called out to her but all I could hear in return was the trickling of water on the stream I was following.
Something isn’t right. For sure she must be as confused as me as to why this trail is so scant. I walked a bit further and then hit a dead end. I had lost the “trail” entirely. I bushwhacked for a few feet to see if I could find it, to no avail. So, I backtracked a bit to where I thought I was still on track (or at least on this track). I called out for my sister again, but still nothing. Then I tried my whistle – just running water.
I went back n forth a few yards one more time to see if I could find where this trail lead. But there was nothing. At this point I knew for sure that this could not be the right trail. The question was, where was my sister? Was she also on this trail further up the mountain? Had she found a split-off that I missed? Had she backtracked when I failed to catch up? Or worse had she got lost or hurt somewhere off trail. I did what they always tell you to do when lost and stopped (although I can’t say I was really lost, as I knew that I could easily follow this path back down to the main trail). I whistled in groups of three (universal distress signal), on my lame whistle included on the sternum strap of my pack.
Then I made the decision to backtrack to the trail and perhaps all the way back to camp. I continued to blow that whistle in 3’s, with an occasional call out to her and listened for an answer while I made my descent. The other group should be on their way soon. Maybe they have seen my sister or could get a message to her if she had indeed continued up the moutain. I hope she is ok! And if she is, I hope she isn’t too worried about me! How could I have made such a stupid mistake after all these miles? I wish this stupid water would shut up for a second so I could hear her. “Therese!!!” “Toot-Toot-Toot” God why doesn’t she answer? Stay calm Mike- Everything is ok. “Toot-Toot-Toot” Water growing louder now, so I must be close to the main brook, but now she really can’t hear this thing! “Toot-Toot-Toot” ….and then at last an answer – a faint “Tooooooooot” in the distance! I answer back with a “Toot-Toot-Toot” and hear it echoed back. This could be her, but it could be the other group. God, I hope it’s her, but either way this is good news and a sense of relief (although an uncertain one) washes over me. We continue to answer each other back in various patterns as the whistling gets louder and louder and when I hear that the sound is right around the corner, I end with a “Toot-t-t-Toot-Toot…”
…and then the best thing in the world finally appears- my sisters face looking very relieved! “OH MY GOD. YOU’RE ALIVE!” she says. “I WAS SO WORRIED THAT YOU HAD FALLEN IN THE GORGE!” Then a big hug and a “Why did you go that way? That’s not the trail!” I respond “I know that now! I am done! Unless you know where the trail is” Then she points to a small cairn “It’s that way!”
Man did I feel stupid at that point! How could I miss this? A cairn and 2 arrows pointing the way. Then I notice some blowdown brush blocking the path at the point where I veered off-trail. How could I have missed this obvious roadblock?
Well I suppose none of that mattered now- We were reunited and safe. Then she let me know that she had hit the SOS button on her Garmin. Oh great! I’ve been avoiding that thing at all costs. Now we’re gonna be another Facebook story and be scrutinized by our peers! Then she demonstrated the features of her upgraded GPS and after some satellite text messaging back and forth with Garmin, and with uncle Keith, they were able to cancel the Search & Rescue call, and (long story short) all was back to normal. NOW LET’S BAG THIS PEAK ALREADY!
We talked the rest of the way up about what I went through, what she went through, and the lessons learned from this ordeal. We talked about things we could change in our routines, emergency plans we could put in place, equipment upgrades, and most of all about how thankful we are to have each other in our lives and how we should never take that gift for granted.
We eventually summited a socked in Redfield and although the sun and wind tried to clear up the fog for us, we never really got our view that day. But we didn’t care. We got so much more, and kept what is truly important – A brother and sister and our love of each other and the mountains. I don’t remember the rhyme we came up with that day, but I think this might be the gist of it:
“Lessons learned, with one wrong turn, the best laid plans can crash and burn. Hike #3, no views to see, but so much more than it seems to be.”
We packed up camp and made the long trek out, enjoying the scenery along the way, happy to be back on marked trail, and thankful that we kept our wits about us in the face of adversity, avoided any catastrophe, and were reminded to treasure our precious moments while we are allowed to make our muddy footprints on this earth. We would have some stories to tell for this one for sure.
“Hike #4, our feet are sore, but we will soon be ready for more…”
Part 4 Seward Range 8/25-27/17: The great Eight lie before us now. We can taste our victory getting closer. In perhaps the most remote section of the Adirondacks lies 4 peaks and half of our remaining destinations on this journey. By now we have experienced enough physical and emotional turmoil, that we are honestly feeling pretty invincible (although we know we are far from it). We are in the zone and ready to enjoy every moment left in our amazing 46er quest!!
We have been enjoying these multi-day backpack trips so much we are planning one for this range as well. Actually, there is really no way not to. The Sewards require another fairly long approach, as is often the case in the Daks, before you begin your ascent. You would need at least one night between the two climbs, one being Seymour with the other 3 peaks, Seward, Donaldson, and Emmons, grouped together.
Many choose to approach the 3 peaks from the west along Calkins Brook in a single day hike, avoiding the steeper northern approach to Seward from the Ward Brook trail, and then return another day to bag Seymour.
We think it is more efficient to camp at the junction near Ward Brook lean-to (since at least this much is required to get to Seymour), then on day two, bite the bullet and grab the other 3 peaks. How steep can it be really? I doubt it is much worse than we’ve encountered to this point. Of course, this also means we will be summiting Seward and Donaldson each twice, where the other approach would only double up Donaldson. Be that as it may, we are up for the challenge, and this also gives us an excuse to spend a second night in the woods and hike out on day three, maximizing the enjoyment factor.
For once, we are not dodging raindrops to find our window of opportunity, as it has been a rather dry week. How luxurious!!
That’s our plan and we’re sticking to it, unless some unforeseen circumstances present themselves, which is always a possibility, often a probability, in the mountains. A few things are adjusted or in the works since our ordeal in the Cliff-Red trip. First, we are using gators to help fend off the mud and keep our feet dry longer. I have upgraded to Gia from the old All Trails app. Therese is having Keith order me a Garmin In-reach (like hers) so we can have better communication on these trips. It hasn’t come in yet, but possibly we will have it for our upcoming Presi Traverse in the Whites next weekend. She is joining me for the southern half on day two, so it would be good to upgrade our communication while I am doing the more strenuous Northern half solo on day one. If it doesn’t come in by then, we will work out a signaling system with my Spot locator and cell phones when cell signal can be had. But we are getting ahead of ourselves. Back to the trip at hand.
We made our way pretty easily along the initial red-marked flattish 4 mile approach on a sunny day. Once the parallel horse trail branched off to the right, we started seeing property boundary flags for the Ampersand Club – Oh about I’d say every 4 feet or so!!! I guess they really like their property untouched.
About halfway into this stretch we thought we would get a view of Blueberry Pond on the left but pretty thick brush and trees with no pathway that we saw, found us past the pond without sight of it. Still some nice forest sights and brooks along the way though.
After putting out an abandoned smoldering fire-ring at Blueberry Lean-to, and turning onto the truck trail road, we noted the spot following a brook leading to our three day 2 peaks and continued to Ward Lean-to and found a nearby clearing to set up camp.
By now, it seems we have our backpacking routine down pretty good, and started morphing into our lighter packs to head back out to the trail and bag our first summit. We found our split-off at another brook and began our ascent. Feeling weightless now, we few up the mountain in no time at all and got some pretty awesome views, personally my favorite of the trip.
Starting to feel the late afternoon mountaintop chill, we headed back down to some warm pasta primavera and a LEGAL (for once) CAMPFIRE before retiring for the day.
Waking to the sounds of forest birds and critters, we refueled with some instant Starbucks, oatmeal Munkpacks and HB Eggs, then headed out to the first brook split off. This ascent was quite steep and scrambly but the day was young and full of hope so we powered up past cliffs and blowdowns (and occasional views to our backs) to our meeting with Seward Mountain.
A solo hiker approaching the summit shortly after us from the other direction was bearing a fresh wound, and we offered some first aid, but he said he had this minor cut under control. So, we parted ways and headed out to our 2nd peak of the day.
With some sporadic glimpses over the treetops to the valley floor below, this was a much easier undertaking, and we reached Donaldson in time for a quick noontime snack and a nice 180 view with a duel pano shot. We plunged into a col now and into some MUD pits (ala Cliff Mountain) and maneuvered our way around and through like experts – well we should be by now! Climbing back up along the ridge, we passed the western Calkins Brook split-off and now traveled a slightly more populated trail with the 2 paths merging, amongst lush jungle-like greenery, toward our final peak of the trip.
Emmons was already populated by a few gabby fellows when we arrived at 1pm for our #42, but we found a spot to sit and devour our lunch over a so-so view through the treetops. Once the gabbier of the gentlemen left we were rested enough to share some 46er battle stories with the other, who oddly enough had some of the same final peaks as us down the stretch and was also planning to finish on Colden.
Now all there was to do was retrace and resummit in reverse! We were getting tired at this point, but still excited that we had reached the “FINAL FOUR” stage in our journey, and started scheming about how that would go down, as we made our way up and over and down and up and over and REALLY DOWN.
The steep descent back down to Ward Brook required some careful and slower footing and some tree swinging assists along with some but sliding down sheer rock faces. We were managing fairly well, when all of the sudden a heard a loud scream of agony from behind! My sister must have hurt herself badly, as I have never heard her scream this way. I raced back up to where she was, expecting to see a detached limb or something. Thankfully, all body parts were still in place, but she was hunched over clearly in some profound pain, with eyes closed trying to regain her composure with long deep breaths. I asked her where it hurt, and she responded softly – “my knee.” “What can I do?” I asked. After a few additional deeper breaths, she answered “Nothing. I’m OK I think.” I advised her to take her time and sit for a while and offered a knee brace or ace bandage. After some bush-style treatment and stretching, she was able to continue. My sister is a tough cookie!! It takes a lot to break her spirit.
Now we descended much more slowly and deliberately so as not to further aggravate the injury. Whew! That could have been a tough evac situation, being in such a remote and precarious location. I made my way ahead slowly, always checking back on her, and she crept behind favoring her leg. It was pretty quiet now, as the mood was understandably shaken. But eventually we made it back without further incident.
All was much better in the morning after some rest and some vitamin-i. We packed up camp and retraced our way along the flattish trails back to the safety of my sister’s car and then enjoyed a long drive down the western side of the Adirondacks along Long Pond and a few other nice areas. Therese pointed out and shared stories about, having visited these areas, camping and whatnot, early in marriage and family upbringing. Another 4 peaks hard earned in the books and another 4 to go!! One thing we have learned, chasing this dream, is that the Adirondaks don’t give you anything easily. But these struggles, whether physical or emotional, somehow manage to make it more meaningful.
Part 5 Santanoni Range 9/17/17: …She didn’t say it at the time but I believe it took her until today for her injury to fully heel. We had planned to do an epic hike in the Presidential range the following week, and she never said boo about not being up for the task. So greater forces stepped in to change our plans and give us an unexpected gift on the off-week, until we returned to the Daks for one more hurdle before our final steps in our 46er journey!!
These greater forces came from Ma Nature of course. She conjured up some freezing temperatures and 80mph winds on Mt Washington smack dabbed in the middle of our would-be trip (courtesy of Harvey remnants). So, with a heavy heart and an empty wallet (from the non-refundable AMC Hut reservation), I pulled the plug on the whole thing. Instead, we asked Vermont to save the day yet again. Boy did it deliver! It could not have been a more different feel than a rugged Presi-traverse, but the prize turned out to be just what we needed. We strolled along the Long Trail from Ellen to Abraham with the soft rolling hills and enjoyed the day, highlighted by a huge Bull Moose sighting in close range, munching on the forest greenery. What a treat!
The next week, we met once again at Hoot Owl Lodge and awaited our next treat in the form of a new face. We have a third party joining us for this trip into the Santanoni Range. Back at the end of last winter, Therese had met up with a few other aspiring 46ers to tackle Street and Nye. That day Anna and her hit it off pretty good and they have been trying to get another hike arranged ever since. Today is the day.
While my sister and I chill on the porch with the lodge to ourselves counting spiders at sunset, Anna is up in Lake Placid wrapping up a long day in the High Peaks in the McIntyre Range, and the dreaded Marshall. We are sitting in bed reading at about 10pm when Anna arrives all wound up and tells us the details of her harrowing ordeal and her “fucking loop” in her Portuguese/French-Canadian accent, and I immediately like her and the energy she brings to the table. She left the room to grab the rest of her stuff from her car, and I turned to my sister and said “Well she’s a spunky one!” This is gonna be a fun day I can tell. All of the sudden I am no longer tired and can’t wait for it to start!
We wake the next morning grab some breakfast, fill up out water supplies, and head out to the trail head just before Upper Works. The first 1.8 miles on Santanoni Rd are a breeze. We spend some time here talking about family heritage, the lifespan of pets, our work professions, and just getting acquainted with each other.
The trail to Bradley Pond branches off the right and now we are doing some descent hiking at last. The leaves are already showing signs of autumn as we make our way to the pond along Santanoni Brook, which gives us a few scenic vistas on the way with falls cascading down rock ledges into pools.
At a few points the trail crosses the river on a pretty sad excuse of bridge which we negotiate with some pretty creative maneuvering.
We take note of the Express trail on our left coming down from Santanoni Peak, which will be our return route, and continue until we reach Bradley Pond.
The “Santas” consist of 3 peaks, Santanoni, Panther and Couchsachraga. Right now, Therese is pretty set on getting Couch “out of the way” first, since it is the furthest trek and if for some reason we couldn’t get all 3 today, we will at least not have to make the haul out there again.
After following Sananoni Brook for a bit, there is a herd path that leaves the blue marked trail about 2.5 miles on the left, just before the shelter, through a beaver dam and skirts the northeast shore of Bradley pond. We find this marking and get a bit confused at the swampy area, where Anna and I cross over the wrong waterway which she sinks her foot in, and have some difficulty returning over the log bridge.
Therese hangs back and ends up finding the right path and getting a good laugh at our expense watching us trying to get back across. Eventually we right our wrong and make our way up some steep-ish climbing to a clearing known as Herald Square.
The choices here, are to take a short jaunt up to Panther to the right, or another quicky to the left where another clearing called Times Square gives us the choice of the much longer trek to “Couchie” or a climb up to the title peak.
Since we knew we’d be finishing with the express trail, and not returning back to Bradley Pond, that ruled out Santanoni. So, it was either Couch or Panther. Anna to our surprise informed us at this time that she was having a hard time keeping pace with us (perhaps due in part to her long hike the day before) and that she had not been drinking as much water due to a strange taste it had (she had filled up at the lodge sink, and I do remember smelling a sulfury odor) and to feel free to go ahead as she was used to hiking solo. This of course was not an option as far as we were concerned. We all came in together, and we will leave the same way! We had the rest of the day and had no issues slowing down if need be. (As it turned out, it need NOT be. But that’s getting ahead of ourselves )
…After some discussion we opted for some early gratification of hitting at least one peak now, for a metal boost more than anything else, and headed out to bag Panther. This ended up being a good call, and the views were arguably the best of the day.
Next, we retraced back to Herald Square, onto Times Square, and set out for Couchie. Newly energized from the views on Panther, and now traveling downhill, we all cruised along at a good clip.
Couch is the one high peak that lost significant elevation after the more recent survey. It’s actually only 3,793 ft but the original list remains intact, even though there are a few peaks that were revealed to be higher than 4,000 ft that were not added to the list. So, we continued to descend our way westward and making good headway, knowing we would have to climb back up on our return.
We came to a clearing in the trail where there was a good view north to the Sewards and decided that this could be a good spot to break for lunch later, if there was nothing good on or near the summit. But we weren’t hungry just yet for anything but our arrival at our 2nd peak, so onward and …downward????
Eventually we came to the col and the infamous boggy area. We maneuver across the muddy area, not quite on the trail, on the squishy sinking dead limbs and stay fairly dry. Not nearly as bad as we had expected. Certainly, the floating log bridges near flowed lands en-route to Skylight and the mud pits on Cliff were much worse than this.
Then we finally did some climbing and Couchie was within striking distance. “I’m liking Cooch” Anna says. “I have a funny picture to take at the summit”. Now my wheels start spinning on what her mind could be conjuring up. “Cooch… It sounds very rap to me…” Close to the summit Anna spots a lookout with a view. “I think a found our lunch spot!” But we don’t stop, because our summit awaits.
And then at long last, we arrive at the wooded area that bears the long hard to pronounce name- Couchsachraga. The 3 of us take the obligatory selfie, and then Anna poses for her rap shot.
Time for lunch! So far, I would say, much like Allen, this hike’s notorious reputation is grossly exaggerated. I for one am enjoying myself thoroughly. I don’t know maybe it’s the extra company.
After lunch we retrace our steps in the upward direction back to the clearing and to Times Square where we begin our final climb of the day.
About an hour later we complete the mission with some great views to the McIntyres and our finishing peak, which is next on the list for Therese and I – hard to believe! – And Anna is now down to single digits. We get our last summit shots of the day and treat ourselves to some fresh socks before we begin our plunge down the express trail.
The express has some pretty steep sections. Therese these days has understandably become more cautious on steep descents thanks to some recent injuries, so she is taking it slow.
On the other hand, Anna has a sudden burst of energy and races ahead. For a while, I am monkey in the middle trying to keep up with Anna then hanging back to make sure Therese is ok. I ultimately give up on the late-day trail runner and hang back with sis. We are pleased with today’s victory and that we have made it past the final hurdle before NUMBER 46! I’m glad to have made a new friend before all was said and done on this journey. Hiking can be a pretty solitary undertaking and although passers-by are always friendly, it’s not often you get to connect with someone new.
We make it back to the road and break into a jog to catch up with miss Speedy Gonzales back at the car and take the drive back to the lakehouse where some heavy-duty pampering awaits! COLDEN is around the corner, but right now, Pasta, Beer, Lake, Hot-tub, Sleep all sound much better!
…And that’s where summer came to a close. Longer days giving way to the crisp cool air and colors of autumn. We have one peak waiting for us 2 years after I started this quest. Soon I will be looking forward to a new adventure, with my sights toward 13 peaks Maine to finish the Northeast 111 and the New England 67. Before we know it the cold of Winter will be upon us and I’ll be back in New Hampshire to chip away at my Winter-48, while helping Therese finish her overall NH-48. I will definitely miss the Adirondacks though. They have challenged me and fulfilled my soul like I could not believe. I am not sure if I will go for the Winter-46 or not. But I know I will not be able to stay away. I must find a reason to go back, as if I needed one…
TO BE CONCLUDED… (or maybe just continued)
ENTRY 29 – SILVER AND GOLD – 6/11&25/17
Adirondack High Peaks
(Sawteeth -28, Skylight-29, Gray- 30)
With the first leaves of September beginning to turn, a cool chill in the air, and yet another EPIC summer winding down, I finally get a moment to reflect upon perhaps the most “EPIC-EST” of all summer hiking seasons. It’s been all about the hike lately, and I just could not sit still long enough to put these experiences into words. Well I suppose I’ve had quite enough of a break, and cannot avoid it any longer. About time for another one of these blogs, while these memories are still fresh in my noggin. By now, I’ve written quite a few of them and still, there never seems to be a shortage of words to describe the new challenges and gifts each hike brings. Recently I’ve looked back on a few of them and honestly cringed a bit when faced with the notion that I have, at times, dug deep within my soul, and put it out in the open. But if I had not, and had kept these things to myself, and left the moments to happen and then possibly be forgotten, it would have been more like a dream to fade away and get lost in the clutter of everyday life. To me, when I put these thoughts into words it makes them REAL, and it becomes a permanent part of who I am moving forward.
For the most part, if you interact with me face to face, I am of course usually NOT this profound and insightful. There is some sort of shield that surrounds me, that keeps things light-hearted and makes me feel safe in my own skin. When I start writing I somehow get in touch with a more thoughtful side of myself, and it’s like I am almost outside looking in, and maybe like it’s not even me. Its almost as if I get to pretend I am someone else, some author of a book writing about a fictional character. But as we know, that is not the case. It’s just me sharing my trail stories and all that happens around me and within me. When I first started these sort of journal entries, and realized that they were perhaps a bit revealing of a side of me that is not known by many, I was of course hesitant to put it out there for all to see (if they so choose). But in the end, I said ‘the hell with it’ and took the plunge to go public, willing to except whatever consequences and reap whatever benefits, that may come develop as a result…”BLAH BLAH BLAH! GET ON WITH THE STORY ALREADY!!!”
Anyway, as I said there always seems to be new challenges and gifts with each hike, no matter how many journeys I embark on. These two hikes are no exception. June led me back to the Adirondacks after a long spring hiatus to finally get back to the places I love. To make it even better, I had company on both of these! First it was a 15 mile, 10-hour loop with my niece Janelle, along East Ausable River, up by way of Gothics Trail to Sawteeth and down what is known as Scenic Trail, stopping at some breathtaking waterfalls and mountain views along the way. The biggest challenge came at the end on this one. Next was an even longer 18 mile, 12-hour out-and-back with my sister (and trusty #1 hiking buddy) Therese, to the remote area of Mount Skylight and Gray Peak which brought its own set of unique challenges, and a very special tribute.
First a long day’s journey, bound for Sawteeth… (6/11/17)
These days I’m finding it harder and harder to get an early start after a Friday night gig. That being the case, along with how the weather lined up and the length of my drive, it made sense to name Sunday as the big day. I slept in and used the first half of Saturday as my travel day. Janelle did the same. She has a physically demanding job as a landscaper so it was pretty important for her to be well rested, before this long slog. I pulled up to the now famous lake-house (assuming there are at least a few readers out there), and Janelle is already settled in and lounging on the dock enjoying the lake. I follow suit shortly after and we enjoy a relaxing day before setting out at the crack of dawn the next day.
A small detour for an extra coffee boost on the way, had us pulling into Ausable Rd parking lot at 8:30am- a bit of a late start, but days are long now with the arrival of summer, so this is a non-issue.
A family of beavers greets us for our stretching and gearing up, and sends us on our way 20 minutes later. A familiar first stretch of a paved roadwalk through the Ausable Club property and to the Gate to the dirt surfaced Lake Rd. I’ve walked this long boring road before, so this time I figured we can make it a bit more interesting (and slightly longer) and follow the East River trail.
Janelle is loving it out here. “I would love to live in this setting” I hear her say, more than once. We stop to marvel at the scenes I may have otherwise (sad to say) whizzed by if I was solo. Her new fascination with her work with an arborist, and recent tree climbing class has her attempting to identify several species of flora. It’s a rather warm day (mid 80s) so we have made sure to pack ample water and making a conscious effort not to skimp on drinking plenty of it. The second half of the trip down Scenic trail has minimal, if any water sources, so we are refilling as we go while the getting is good.
Speaking of water, after a few miles of some gentle ups and downs, we come to the dramatic cascading Beaver Meadow Falls. The cool mist and draft are refreshing, and Janelle decides to get a closer look. I love seeing her reaction to these things of beauty. I couldn’t be happier, and gladly take the extra time for an extended break. After some time enjoying the falls, Janelle now soaked from the mist, we head on our way to the next attraction.
We headed a short way up Beaver Meadow Trail, up a ladder, and split off to the left to Lost Lookout where we got a nice view through a clearing in the trees. Then continued the side trail downhill, to a junction of trails and took one more worthwhile side trip to an awesome sight, the towering wall of water known as Rainbow Falls. After times of heavy rains, this can be a risky area to approach, but today it is a lush cascade tumbling off the cliff side to the boulders and brook below. Once again, an extended break is in order, so we can soak in this breathtaking spectacle. “Soak” is an understatement as Janelle once again moves in for a closer look.
Much like the racing water, my heart overflows with joy, being able to bring these magical places to family members. She returns from her close encounter saying, “I was gonna go under but…” “BUT WHAT??” I say. We both gaze up at the falls, and as my eyes follow the towering flow down the cliff side to our level, I realize Janelle is already halfway back to the showers. This time, she plunges into the wall of water.
What the hell, you only live once, and as the song says, “We may never pass this way again”. Carpe Diem, I say! Besides, with the warm temps today, and plenty of time to dry off before the cool summit winds, hypothermia couldn’t be further from my mind.
We eventually drag ourselves away from what has to be the highlight of the trip, to continue onward and upward, VERY upward. Heading up the Pyramid/Gothics trail we get one last look from above the falls to witness… yup you guessed it, A RAINBOW stretching across the spray of the falls.
We are 3 hours into our journey now as noon approaches, but we have some miles to make up so we push onward after a snack and re-hydration. Janelle checks her blood sugar levels (being a type 1 diabetic) and discovers it is a bit out of whack, and gives herself an insulin shot. Now I am entertaining the idea of scrapping our next stop which we had planned, Pyramid Peak. It is not a 46er, but I included it in the itinerary because it is said to have one of the best views in the Adirondacks. But our early stops have kind of put us behind schedule with still many miles ahead. I mention my thoughts to my niece and her reaction is “I’m down for anything!” So, we agree to play it by ear and make our decision at the next trail junction.
After some hard work, with a good stretch of steepness and the sun beating down, hunger is now creeping in. We sit on a log on the side of the trail just before the junction, and refuel with a lunch in the woods. At this point, I break the news to my partner that we are scrapping Pyramid for today. Her blood sugar is now normal but I don’t want to run out of daylight or energy. We can always come back and do a Pyramid/Gothics loop. I’ve already done Gothics, but from a different approach, so this would be a good hike to plan for the future. She agrees with my judgement and we now turn our sights on Sawteeth.
As we turn left and start our scramble to the summit, we get some looks behind us to the sheer cliffs of Pyramid, and this makes me glad that we are saving it for another day. Plus, now my companion is complaining of a turning stomach, but assures me she is good to go.
A few challenging spots later we have made to our destination just after 2pm. Janelle’s first ADK High Peak and #28 for me. The views are of course astounding! We take a well-deserved rest and enjoy the landscape with the Great Range spread out before us.
Before too long, we are joined by a family of 5, including 3 young kids, maybe 6 years to 9 years of age. We chit chat for a bit and learn that they have done a 5-peak day, including the Wolfjaws, Armstrong, Gothics, and Pyramid. Aaah youth! We took some comfort in the fact that they had a 5am start, in contrast to our 9am start. This put some wind back in our sails, enough to get a move-on to the 2nd of the double summit and then down the Scenic Trail.
I remind Janelle to stay hydrated and I check in on her health from time to time. Still a bit queasy but “good to go”. One more short side trip brings us to Marble Point, and a nice view to the Lower Ausable Lake, and Mt Colvin and Blake across the way along with Indian Head and some other more distant high peaks.
But my partner is no longer by my side. Instead she is fertilizing the woods with the contents of her stomach. She staggers onto the ledge refreshed (for the moment) and enjoys the southern views with me, although clearly now less enthusiastically. I give her a rest here to compose herself before moving on.
The rest of the way down the Scenic trail is us moving at a decent clip, interspersed with a series of outlooks toward a Lower Ausable, growing gradually larger and closer. There are no further health issues, although she is drinking less for fear of yacking again. A mistake, in hindsight.
We make it to the base where we had planned to take the West River trail back, but after a foot-soak in the lake, I suggest taking the road back, for hopefully a more straight forward final stretch and possibly easier on the stomach.
I forgot how long and grueling this road was. I am dragging at this point, my feet burning and Janelle is even worse, but all there is to do at this point is shuffle onward to the end. In the final miles, Janelle is clearly dehydrated, spent and in rough shape. We pass a fellow hiker at the Ausable club who had finished her hike earlier in the day and was just hanging out on Club grounds. She notices the zombie-like demeanor of my companion and walks with her, offering some water and amino-acid formula which she has had good luck with, fighting dehydration.
It wasn’t until the ride back to the lake house, when things took a turn for the worse. I had to pull over a few times for Janelle to puke her guts out. I stopped for some ginger ale and she tried to keep it down and failed. Bed could not come soon enough. Surely, she just needs a good night’s rest and will be much better in the morning… NOT THE CASE. She woke up in the middle of the night vomiting violently again. I suggested we may need to go to the hospital at this point, and after the next puking session she agreed and dialed 911. Once the EMTs finally found us, they were off to the hospital. I stayed back and got some rest. The next morning, I learned that she was being treated for Ketoacidosis, a potentially life-threatening complication from Diabetes. I am glad we didn’t wait any longer to get to the hospital! She wasn’t stabilized until another day later. A scary ending, to say the least, to a trip that started out so well.
I don’t know if there is anything to be learned from this experience. I only hope that Janelle remembers the majority of the day, the good parts that filled most of it, and not the ordeal that followed. I beat myself up about it for the morning that followed. What more could I have done to stop the escalation of her sickness? Did I push the envelope too much? Why have I not made myself more educated with the difficulties and complications of diabetes? But in the end, I let myself off the hook, as it is ultimately up to the person with the disease to manage their symptoms and monitor their levels and be proactive with treatments. Not to put too much blame on Janelle either. I can understand her not wanting to be the one to hold back progress. I would probably want to push beyond the limits too if I was in her shoes. I just hope she figures it all out, and those shoes hit the trail again soon. It was after all, a great day. THE SILVER LINING WORTH ITS WEIGHT IN GOLD…
Next was a long, treacherous, wet, and muddy, journey to probably the most remote, and definitely one the most beautiful peaks in the Adirondacks. And to sweeten the deal, we got to say farewell to a dear friend, making this our most emotional voyage by far. (6/25/17)
What can you say about the unconditional love of a dog? There is something so pure and natural about the bond we have with our canine friends. They don’t judge you in any way, they would never hurt you, and their needs are very simple. Love, Love, and more LOVE. They know not of the daily stresses we humans put ourselves through, of the pain and suffering we are capable of inflicting upon each other, of the worries that consume us, of the bills we have to pay, the list of chores we create, the complexities that fill our days, the blame we pin on ourselves and on others when things don’t go according to the master plan… No, they know not of any of those things. And yet they somehow know us better than we know ourselves sometimes. For isn’t that what we desire the most? Peace, simplicity, harmony, and love. Our dogs are the purest version of ourselves. The child inside us that just wants to go out and play, run in a field, jump in pile of leaves, roll in the snow, splash in a lake, and at the end of the day sit by a warm fire cuddled next to your best friend in the world. Wouldn’t it be nice if that was all there was to life? Maybe that’s what is truly important though and we too often lose sight of these pure and simple things. I am thankful I was reminded of these things and that Simba was there to make sure I didn’t forget.
Simba had been my sister’s trusty companion in recent years, and throughout his lifetime had grown alongside the members of her family, and had become such an important fixture in all of their lives. As my visits to the lake house became more frequent, thanks to my renewed love of nature, I became a familiar being in this wonderful golden retriever’s world. He let me in as one of the family, and he became a symbol of the new direction and approach I was taking in life. For me, it was the mountains that became my savior. And even when he wasn’t up for the challenge, he was often there, sitting lakeside to send me off, and there when I returned. When his health was on the upswing he would even join us on the journey, and I have never seen him so happy and excited! During this past winter, he shared many of our snowy treks, and it seemed as though he was rejuvenated and healthier than ever! Over the spring break (not the best time to hike), I remember thinking “This was going to be Simba’s summer!”
…And then, just like that he was gone. And somehow in many ways it hurts even more than losing a fellow human family member. My sister texted me the news that he was to be put down that week, and I was absolutely heartbroken. I felt like leaving work at once and make the 3-hour drive midweek just to say goodbye, but it was best to leave the family in their space to spend the final hours in their own way. I began to remember the times I shared with Simba, and just then realized how much he had meant. I wrote a poem that summed up how I felt and emailed it to my sister, with the hopes that it would be read in his presence.
In the weeks that followed, some healing took place, but Simba would never be forgotten. He couldn’t be. He was too important! We decided to dedicate this hike to Simba and take with us some of his ashes to be released at the summit of Skylight, where I would read my poem aloud and we could make our contribution to the closure of this chapter and celebration of his life. This is our journey…
It’s another gold weather day. The weather gods have parted the rainclouds for Mike and Therese once again. Or maybe we just obsessed over the forecasts, and jumped while the getting was good. In any case, we had our window of sun amongst a series of rainy days to make the long approach into the heart of the Adirondacks. Skylight is out just beyond Marcy with a summit that sits in the middle of it all with nothing but mountains and wilderness as far as the eye can see. Nothing but a 360 view will do for a hike in honor of our friend. We are not sad or melancholy this morning as we set off from Heart Lake, more filled with happiness and joy, as if Simba is here by our side, racing ahead in the trail soaking up the woods and all that is good in the world. The obligatory kicking up our heels takes place, and we are on our way.
In no time at all, it seems, we are at the all too familiar spot – Marcy Dam, where we take a quick breather to acknowledge the blue skies we are granted by Ma Nature and hope that the weather holds up long enough for the main event. There are some showers expected later, but we think we can make it in time to dodge any soaking (from the sky at least). Gray is the lesser of the 2 views, so we will tackle that after.
Branching off to the first section of trail toward Avalanche Pass, we make our way through flora with eyes and ears peeled for fauna. A bounty of green surrounds us in the forest, in stark contrast to the bleached blanket that coated the last trail we shared with Simba. No doubt he would have loved to be here today, but then again, he is most definitely here, and we are doing our best to keep up with him.
Memories of Simba fill my mind, and I am sure Therese’s as well, mixed with recollections of our first attempt at what we have designated as our finishing peak – Mt Colden, as we ascend up to Lake Arnold for another quick breather. All these images of winter land frolicking with our golden companion, and an icy cold autumn day that tested our tenacity to the breaking point, are in perfect balance with present, day surroundings, one of those being a relentless reminder of the wet season we have had and the muddy results that haunt all who set foot on (or should I say “in”) these grounds. At one point, my trekking pole sinks into the muck almost up to the handle!
But this is nothing compared to what awaits us in the bog area down Feldspar Brook Trail. At first it is some manageable maneuvering over wood log bridging through the waterlogged area. Then this reaches a new level at the most flooded zone.
The bridging has now become a series of floating, and not so floating walkways (or should I say swim-ways) through a football field length of waist deep water. I watch Therese sink to her knees as she carefully makes her way across being careful not to fall over into the pool, then I follow, nudging the drifting sections of this sorry excuse for a bridge into place, as I too, sink to my knees. All hope for dry boots is long gone at this point, so we squish along and let our feet prune away, as we bang a left at the lean-to onto the yellow marked trail along Feldspar brook to find our next landmark, Lake Tear of the Clouds – the starting point of the Hudson River.
The viagra in third system is emerging from recent research. It puts a order viagra online deeprootsmag.org string in their relationship create by ED. For illustration, you may learn new solutions to cialis pill cost manage and cure your dysfunction by discussing through it. PVD can affect both the Arteries (that carry blood from the heart to the body) and Veins (that carry find out my pharmacy now viagra pill for woman blood back to the heart). Views of Marcy to our left are plentiful as we approach the lake and grab a snack. We take note of the herd path that heads up to Gray and continue long to the junction known as Four Corners to start our ascent to the 4,825 ft Skylight summit. Even though our feet are hopelessly soaked it feels good to walk upon dry ground. The higher we climb, the more open and vast expanses of land, and the more hopeful we will be allowed blue skies upon summit arrival. We have each carried with us a rock to set upon the massive cairn as we reach the bald peak, which is said to ensure good weather. We will see if superstition holds true. We pick up the pace and complete the final stretch without a break in order to beat the clouds making their way into the area. A sole hiker is retreating opposite our direction and comments “looks like I just made it, now all I have to do is survive the hike out”. We chuckle and shrug off his remarks, all the while unyielding in our stride and our resolve for the height of land. Then finally the successful mission realized as the two huge stacks of rocks come into view and beyond them, the endless stretches of hills reach out as far as eyes can see until they fade to kiss the sky upon the horizon.
We stand in wonder and amazement at the scenes spread out before us in every direction. And then just like that, with little warning, a healthy gust of wind, dark shadow envelopes the earth, and the sky opens up to shed her tears of joy upon us. We race to put pack covers and rain jackets and laugh hysterically at the timing of this swift transformation in the clouds. But we care not. We made it here after 9+ miles and a good soaking from below, and a little bit of a soaking from above will not dampen our spirits.
We make our way down to a somewhat more sheltered area for a well-deserved feasting upon the sustenance that fills our packs, and as we do, the clouds move on as quickly as they arrived. We sit on our little area just north side off the summit and devour our sandwiches and snacks while gazing upon views of Marcy, Gray, and Colden before us, as well as the MacIntyres and “HaBaSa” of the Great range to our more distant left and immediate right.
Following our lunch, we sit for a moment and then begin our little ceremony for Simba.
I read aloud the words I wrote to honor our friend, and as I do, a lump in my throat develops, my heart races, and my eyes fill to blur the passages I struggle to read on the screen of my phone:
GOLDEN SEASONS (in memory of SIMBA)
SKY OF GOLD~
The evening horizon floods with color
In my westbound highway drive
They promise a place where I can retreat
Renewed, reborn, revived
This is YOUR kingdom, playground, & home
A peaceful state of mind
You welcome me with an open heart
To leave my chaos behind
LAKE OF GOLD~
Summer sun glistens upon the ripples
A warm and gentle breeze
A kayak, pontoon, duckling or loon
The only movement we see
You sit by my side for hours on end
The dock sways to and fro
You look back at me as if to say
“Is anything better? No.”
LEAF OF GOLD~
I’ve walked many miles, seen so many colors
I wish to share the story
But somehow you know in your monochrome vision
The beauty I’ve witnessed, the glory
You answer the door a tail wagging joy
Hoping that soon you can join me
As I hit to the trail to find all that’s good
The simple world you have shown me
Your coat glimmers bright against fresh fallen white
Health has not always been kind
But today you are charged up by fresh air and trail
Renewed, reborn, unwind
You sprint far ahead then back to our pace
The summit awaits, we arrive
Like a kid in a candy store eating it up
Days like these let you thrive
HEART OF GOLD~
With spring thaw complete, a hopeful new season
Alas our time is cut short
Your sick aging bones too much to endure
So many good memories to sort
Your final sun sets as family surround you
A loving ending unfolds
You’ll always be with me wherever I gaze
Wherever a lake
Wherever the trees
Wherever a mountain
Whenever at peace
MY BEAUTIFUL FRIEND OF GOLD
Then a moment of silence mixed with more tears and an embrace from my sister, and she reaches into her pocket to remove a ziplock bag and asks me to capture this moment on video, as she moves further toward the backdrop of Haystack (my first Adirondack high peak) to release the ashes into the wind and whisper a few words of farewell to her trusty pal. What an emotional send-off for our friend!
click here for video clip of “farewell to Simba”
We gather ourselves and realize how blue the sky has once again become. I decide to race back up to the summit to get a few more shots before heading back down to Lake Tear of the Clouds for our 2nd destination. My heart is really racing now, from the jog I just completed, fueled by the emotional ceremony, and further amplified by the amazing heavenly views before me. I pan the camera from horizon to horizon several times around as I am panting heavily, fighting back the tears that have overcome me once more. Eventually I catch my breath and plunge down the mountain trail to rejoin my sister. We feel like this journey could not have been scripted more perfectly as we snap a few more alpine shots before dipping back into the trees.
Click Here for video clip of “Skylight Summit”
A sign marks a tree at the Lake near our junction that echos our sudden drenching from the sky we had just experienced. A few gels for energy boost, and we begin the climb up to Gray.
My legs are fighting me now with every step but I push on through the steep scrambles and muddy herd path to finally reach our 2nd peak of the day, marking #30 on the list – Gray Peak.
Another rest with a snack and a gel is needed to keep up our strength for the long return trip. We take note of our mud soaked footwear and legs and realize we still need to go back through all that. Uuugh! Whatever, it makes no difference at this point. Let’s get on with it.
The scrambles down Gray are more challenging to descend in some spots but we manage to make our way down and around them, and then shuffle and squish back through the wet muddy steps from which we came.
I finally hit a wall heading back up to Lake Arnold but claw my way through it, for one final resting point. I remember an item that is in my pack from the Sawteeth hike, when Janelle was struggling mightily at the end and a nice girl offered her some water and this amino acid supplement powder. Janelle never used it that day, but now with my energy reserves well spent I figure I’ll give it a shot. What have I got to lose?
We head out on the final 5 miles down the northern flank of Colden, bound for Marcy Dam and eventually Heart Lake, when suddenly out of nowhere I find myself running and hopping the rocks down the mountain with renewed energy. This stuff really works! I don’t know how long this burst will last but I am riding the wave for as long as I can! Therese is doing her best to keep up with me at this point (Its usually the other wat around in the final stretch), but doing a decent job since she hadn’t hit her low as I had. We finally make it back down to Marcy Dam and give our feet a good soak in the cold water and change into dry socks. This gives us a new pair of feet to endure the final miles back to our car.
On the way out to route 87 we stopped at a little diner along 73 in Keene Valley and devoured some nachos, a burger and fries, the stumbled back to the car with filled bellies for the long drive back to the lake house for a hot soak and some much needed sleep. Although we were aching from head to toe we felt blessed once again to have had this experience in honor of our friend and in celebration of this lifestyle. I wouldn’t change this day for the world! One of my favorites for sure!
28TH ENTRY: THE DAK DAYS OF SUMMER 8/20/16 & 9/4/16
ADK- MacIntyre Range & Great Range
(Iroquois-14, Algonquin-15, Wright-16, Marcy-17, Phelps-18)
Well it’s been while since I’ve written one of these. Here it is in the merry (and muddy) month of May and I just finished writing the long Winter 2017 entry. But given the upcoming temps this week reaching as high as the lower 90’s, I didn’t think snow talk was very fitting. Instead I think a look back at last summer and a look forward to this one suits the current mood. Thinking back to last year there was so many amazing memories to recall as I was in the thick of exploration of new lands out west and approaching the grand finale of another journey two states away. I can only hope that this summer will compare. I am sure it will be EPIC anyway I look at it, with at least 4 overnight backpack trips in the works with many miles to cover and many smiles to uncover.
To set the mood for these hot steamy days ahead, I’ll take it back to last August where I find myself back at the Loj on Heart Lake.
After getting a hefty second helping of the Adirondacks in July, and taking a long plunge into the middle of nowhere in the Whites to get to #47-Isolation (one shy of the big finish), I am back in the Daks to take on the 2nd highest Peak – Algonquin, and it’s two neighbors, Iroquois and Write. Together the make up the majority of the MacIntyre Range, minus one trail-less Peak, Marshall (which I have already written about).
This range called to me from my first looks at the Daks, back when we were planning our first attempt at Colden, which rises out of the lakes on the other side of the beautiful Avalanche pass, which I am really excited to include as part of today’s mammoth hike! It is the sheer cliffs and slides of Colden and Avalanche mountain that plunge into the pass and form the two lakes of the same name that paint a picture like none I’ve seen and lure me into its beauty. I can’t wait to see it in person! So, I set out after breakfast at the Loj to start my day.
As I head past Marcy Dam I notice a parallel in my methods in tackling the highest peaks in the whites, where I had hiked Adams before taking on Washington. Maybe knocking off the 2nd highest gives me a confidence boost for #1. I don’t know but if the parallel holds true, this one will be more difficult than Marcy. We shall see.
About a mile later and I turn on to the trail that leads me through the pass, then another half mile and I start to see what the hype is about. And it lives up to it and then some. Couldn’t ask for a better spot to take my first break. This is what I love about summer. The days are long and there is ample time to linger a bit at these many picturesque areas.
Then after I get my fill, I head out along the cliffs of Avalanche mountain where there is no shore, only wooden catwalks bolted to the cliff face, known as “Hitch-up Matildas” getting their name from an old story about a female hiker in a skirt getting carried on another’s back through the water. As I travel the walkways I get views of Colden’s impressive slides and the infamous Trapdike. My sister and I have decided to finish together on this mountain, after our first failed attempt last fall. Wouldn’t it be EPIC to go up by way of the Trapdike?
Anyway, after reaching the Northwest shore of Lake Colden a bang a sharp right and begin the second leg of my journey – the steep wet climb up the face of the mighty Algonquin! This is a brutal undertaking on this hot summer day, navigating wet rocky stream banks, waterfalls and perpetually steep inclines.
The views behind me grow more and more inspiring as I claw my way higher up the slope, reaching its pinnacle at a junction with the unmarked trail to the left the alpine section of Gonk’s summit-bound stretch to my right and the grand views across the pass behind me. I pause here briefly to catch my breath.
These pauses, granted to me by the long warm days are what I miss the most during the winter. As much as I love the snowy season, I sometimes feel to some extent cheated of a lengthy lounge, when I have to push on just for the sake of staying warm. Looking back on days like this one, gets me excited for the upcoming season. With 19 peaks left on my 46er journey, the way I see it shaping up is 4 overnight (or multi-night) trips, with the addition of a blast up Sawteeth and a long day out to Allen, and of course the finisher. Therese and I have been trying since the close of Winter-17 to sync our schedules up and free up as many opportunities as possible to get these trips in this summer and hopefully make our final stand atop Mount Colden by early Autumn. The trips appear to be as follows: The Dix Range, covering 5 peaks over about 16 miles and 5,800 ft in elevation; The Sewards, covering 4 peaks over 21 miles and 6,800 ft elev; The (soggy) Santanoni Range, including 3 peaks over 17 miles and 5,000 ft elev; And the final trip (which could be broken into two) including Skylight, Gray, Cliff and Redfield. Some long days and hard work are ahead of us for sure, but this is the time to get em done. Can’t wait for the mud to firm up and for June to bust out all over!!
Back to that day in the Mac’s, there are many out here at timberline today as I wind my way through the stubby dwarfed trees, on the unofficial, but well defined trail over Boundary and up to Iroquois. I greet a family group, a mother and two young ones, coming down the other direction. “How’s the view over there?” I ask. “Fabulous” the mother says. The youngest lad of the group adds, “When you get up near the top don’t go right, go left around the steep rock”. Chuckling I respond, “Ok thanks. I’ll keep that in mind. Enjoy this beautiful day, guys!” and with that I continue on my way. The summit is somewhat gusty but as promised earlier, Fab views aplenty! I find a notch in the rocks out of the wind and enjoy a well-deserved lunch break amongst the giants of the Daks.
Retracing my steps after my break, to the junction and beyond, I see the summit of Algonquin is quite busy. And why shouldn’t it be? You’d be a fool to pass up a day like today to walk in the wispy clouds. Well at the moment it is less of a stroll and more of a grind as I huff and I puff and I gasp for air up the massive rock faces and ledges onto the next cairn, and then the next, and the next – All the while getting words of encouragement from passers-by: “Your almost there!”, “Just a little longer!”, “You got this!”, “It’s amazing up there. Well worth it!”
I see a girl soloist ahead of me hunched over from time to time, clearly sharing my struggle. I eventually catch up to her close to the summit and remark, “Boy this had better be good!” “I know this CRAZY HARD!” she responds. “Well if it were easy… (looking at the summit crowd) …Oh wait – Everybody IS doing it!” A period of laughter follows, until our air supply runs out. Then a pause. A drink. Another pause… Finally, I finish the exchange with “OK C’mon. Let’s DO THIS THING!” We each scrap and scramble our way up the final stretch until at last, ARRIVAL!! THE MIGHTY GONK!!! A high-five and we then go our separate ways, to each claim a spot to call our own and linger the afternoon away.
I gaze out to the neighboring peaks and wonder what stories each of them hold on this day. I remember the family from the Loj at breakfast, who were heading to Marcy today and I wonder how they made out. Funny thing about the mountains- You can enjoy hours and hours of solitude, peace, serenity, and all the while feel connected to each and every one of your fellow hikers, though strangers in the “real” world, one big family in this place. As I head out to the return leg of my loop, with one last climb left along the way, I spot my fellow summit struggle companion now appearing to be napping on a flat rock. “Enjoy the rest. You’ve earned it!” I remark on my departure. “And then some!” she retorts. Then I plunge back into the trees to gear up for one more summit push.
The mile descent goes by in no time at all, when the junction up to Wright is upon me.
It’s only 0.4 miles to the day’s final peak, but I have the feeling it will take all I’ve got. After all, these are “Adirondack Miles”.
But I must be on auto pilot by now, because, although steep and scrambly, it seems pretty easy. I suppose it’s all relative.
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I look around for the plaque I had read about, commemorating 4 men who died in a Airforce bomber crash here in the 60s, and supposedly there are crash remnants as well. I must be looking in the wrong spot though, because all I see is this sign saying to return to the trail. Well I’m feeling the miles at this point and head out to bring this day to a close.
Looking back on that long day in the Macs has got me so looking forward to this summer and some longer days to soak in the carefree sunshine on the summits without a concern for running out of daylight and freezing my tail off. Indeed, it is only May and we have already had some 90 degree days. I tried some hiking on one of those days and didn’t get too far. But mountains are usually a nice escape from the brutal heat that exists in the bay state. A few more weeks to wait out the mud and the black flies and I will be heading up north every chance I get!
For now, I will stay further south where the winter recovery is further along. I am just getting back from a weekend in the Berkshires and Catskills, and the weather and conditions were absolutely perfect. Mom and Sean shared the first day with me and I took them to Bash Bish Falls and Alander Mountain, easily my favorite hike in the Berks.
Then I took a drive out west to the Catskills and got Hunter Mountain under my belt, for whenever I complete the Northeast 111 list (which is actually 115 peaks). Next, I have a Sawteeth hike in my sights, and its looking like my niece Janelle will be joining me. Great way to kick off the summer season in the Daks. Maybe the highlight (or certainly the highest height) of last summer was the day I took on Marcy.
It is another warm day on the unofficial final weekend of summer, the day before Labor Day. One year ago, on this weekend I got my first taste of the magical energy that these Adirondacks generate. Now I am heading out to the “Cloud-Splitter” of the Daks – MARCY! Therese is doing a Half Ironman triathlon today which is a 70.3 mile race with Biking, Swimming and Running. That’s way more miles than I’ll be attempting, but then again, I’ll be elevating my efforts – about 4000 ft worth of elevation that is. So, we will be using each other for inspiration today to get to where we need to be. I am playing it by ear of course, but adding to the 14 mile round trip is the possibility of including Phelps which would put the total somewhere around 17.5 miles. To this point, the only day hike I’ve done longer than that was the dreaded but wonderful Owls Head in the middle of the Pemi Wilderness back in the Whites. So, we’ll see how I feel about the 2nd peak after I grab the first one, but in any event, I am geared up for a long day in the Daks. Well, HEY… I got nothing better to do with my day (because there IS nothing better on earth).
As I fly by Marcy Dam, a sight I have seen a few times now and will see many more, and work through the miles on this EPIC trek I realize that there are quite a bit of EPIC events happening this month. Next week Therese and I are revisiting the birthplace of mountain love – THE BONDS. Then a week later I have a big support crew sharing a big milestone with me as I finish the NH48 on Garfield. For today at least, I have my sights on the next list as an “Aspiring 46-er”. I realize, whizzing past Avalanche Pass trail junction with sound of Phelps Brook rushing by on my right, that I could be just one hike shy of catching up to sis after today.
Making note of the split-off to Phelps, which I will be returning to if all goes well, I set sights on the next group ahead to pass. There are plenty of folks on the trail this holiday weekend. I saw on the facebook page that at least one person will be finishing on Marcy today! I saved his picture (Marty is his name), so I can cheer him on if I run into him.
I see a few familiar faces today from hikes of days gone by, including a trio I met last time on Algonquin. Barely noticing another split to Tabletop in my rear view mirror, we have some friendly back n forth for a bit, but then as they pause for a break I must leave them in the dust.
You see I am focused on kicking some ass today, keeping my stops to a minimum, and keeping my energy level high, so I can reach the highest high in the state of NY. As a result, my stops for pictures are few and far between as well, until I reach my destination. I decline a stop at Indian Falls, forge ahead on the Van Hoevenberg as there will be future opportunities to take in the Falls. I stop only briefly for a handful of trail-mix, a chug of water or when views of Marcy come into view as I pass junctions with Hopkins and Phelps trails leading to the JBL and Keene Valley.
Marcy is becoming ever so close now as her peak now fills my view and I make my way into the alpine zone. A flat boggy area with wooden walkways leads me to the start of the summit-bound stretch. I can taste victory (or was that an almond?) With the thoughts of what Therese must be enduring on her journey today to motivate me when my mind falters in the slightest, I push on, cairn after cairn, up the bare rock ledges, feeling energized and inspired.
And then, at last the plateau of today’s purpose is realized. I am on top of the world (or at least New York). Now, finally, I can pause and take in the rewards for my efforts.
The views are spectacular as advertised. But as is the case with the highest peak off any state, especially on a clear day like today, the people flock in from every direction to share the view. I manage to find a spot with some elbow room, overlooking what I think must be Skylight, to share my sandwich with the swarms of tiny little bugs that are amongst the crowds today, on this uncharacteristically windless summit.
True to form, I must say that Algonquin indeed was the tougher climb, proving that 2nd on the list doesn’t mean 2nd fiddle to your superior. I take another stroll around the area, overhearing some of the stewards giving their groups a spiel on alpine vegetation and whatnot. Then a group approaches the summit blasting rap music, and that is my cue to move on in search of a quieter place. Now I know that there is definitely another destination on the table for today.
On my way backtracking my steps I once again encounter the trio I met earlier and they ask if I am heading up to Phelps. “Absolutely” I respond, “Feeling pretty good still.” A bit more chit-chat and we part ways once again as I plunge down to the turn-off riding the waves of my vigor.
Talk about polar opposites! Both the 1.2 mile trail to the top, and the summit itself were deserted. It is here where I get my fix of solitude and the one spot where I linger a while and have my moment with the mountain. I can’t believe how calm and peaceful it is here. Is this really the same hike?
After quite some time just lying there soaking it in, I finally pull myself together to complete the day. At this point I am relaxed and no longer energized, but I dig deep into my reserves for just enough juice to get me back to my car, on autopilot.
That last stretch out from the dam is brutal and seemingly unending – my stomach growling. Dragging my final steps to my car, I dive head first into my cooler, pouring the ice cold water onto my burning feet and over my head, and devour the last bit of food it contains – 6 pieces of turkey, 3 pieces of cheese, one beer, one Gatorade, and a half bag of pretzels. I rip my sweat drenched clothes off, with no regard to the onlookers passing by and slip in the oh so comfy cotton tee-shirt and sweatpants. On my way out of the parking lot, my muscles aching, and knees screaming, I read a very appropriately worded sign, although it contains info that might have been more helpful at the beginning of the day – “ROUGH ROAD AHEAD” – NOW they tell me!!
With the sun setting on the horizon over the field to my left, I begin the 2 ½ hour drive back to the lake-house where Therese is already resting from her long day and enjoying a hot soak and a pizza! I will follow suit upon my arrival when you are asleep, and we will exchange stories in the morning as we enjoy a lazy morning on the lake.
Another epic ending to the Dak days of summer. Fitting that Labor Day weekend brought the finishing touches on the Great Range I started the same weekend last year.
…AND NOW I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE NEXT SUMMER SEASON ON THE HORIZON.
27th Entry: Superstition Ain’t the Way- FRIDAY 13th 1/13/17
Adirondacks High Peaks
(Mt. Marshall-26)
The heavens opened up over i-90 the morning after and shot beams of sunlight in every direction filtered through the silver clouds with a neighboring hint of a rainbow to the right, as my i-Pod playlist landed on the magical fingers of Rick Wakeman and angelic voice of Jon Anderson: “High vibration, go on to the sun. Oh, let my heart dreaming. Past a mortal as me. Where can I be? Wish the sun to stand still. Reaching out to touch our own being. Past all mortal as we, here we can be. Here we be. Sun’s high streams through. AWAKEN GENTLE MASS TOUCH…” Flashes of the endless harrowing ordeal from the day before replayed in my head, and my eyes were continually drawn to the sky as it spoke to the open wound of my soul, through the soundscape filling the air between my four tires, as they race eastward to carry me home. A river of tears released and the road blurred into liquid sunlight. It’s a wonder I didn’t tumble over the guardrail of the overpass and plunge into the icy cold Hudson. I guess I was on autopilot, much like the seemingly endless final miles of the full moon death march to the trailhead the night before.
Well maybe that’s ramping up the drama a bit as is the following recount of the events leading up to a Marshall victory which we earned and then some! But at the time it seemed very dramatic. It certainly could have been worse i suppose. The temperature and weather were kind to us that day, factors that are notoriously unpredictable in the mountains. No, today it was the trail conditions, nutrition, and hydration that would be our nemesis.
It all started with a fresh snowfall coating the mountains on New Year’s Day. We had set out on our first winter hike from the Upper Works lot to see if we could make a run at Mt. Marshall. We saw, through our ADK Facebook page, that there were a few groups that had made the journey in recent weeks, but we weren’t certain there would be any sign of their tracks after a few days of fresh snow. But I didn’t care. I just needed to be in the mountains making my own tracks in a winter wonderland, weather we reached our ultimate destination or not.
Marshall is, like many in the Adirondacks, one of those peaks where you need to walk a long distance of marked trail just to get to the base of the main climb. Then you ascend a 2-ish mile steep unmarked herd path to reach the summit. It’s this last portion we were unsure of. But my sister and I were just glad to be doing some winter hiking, no matter how far the journey took us. We would just see what condition the trail was in when we got there, and take what the mountain gives us.
It was a great day! The conditions couldn’t be better. Not brutally cold a nice packed trail base with a new layer of powder. A coating of pure white lay upon the limbs of Christmas trees scattered along the trail. The sound of streams running beneath our shoes as we make several crossings of tributaries branching from Calamity Brook which eventually becomes the Hudson river.
It’s good to be approaching the mountains from the south for a change. Up until now we have been departing from either The Garden lot, Heart Lake, or St. Huberts for the most part, all of which approach from the North/Northeast.

A short distance after making a high water crossing of the brook across a rickety wooden bridge that is leaning badly to the left, we enjoy pretty views of lower MacIntyre’s and Marshall across the open clearing of Calamity Pond, and later as we reach the Flowed Lands, views of Algonquin and our planned finishing peak – Colden. I remember that late autumn day when we first attempted Colden and had our first turnback. That was a tough pill to swallow but experiences like that deepen your respect for the mountain, and this made Colden a meaningful finisher choice. I would shortly get a renewed respect through the lessons of another peak.
Well we never found the Herbert Brook herd path that day. As suspected, the snow had covered up any previous group’s attempts to break trail to Marshall. We retraced our steps back and forth a few times trying to find it, to no avail.
Even if I knew exactly where it should be, there was no way we were going to break trail, not this late in the day anyway. So, we stopped at the lean-to, ate some lunch, and made our way back to the trail head with plenty of daylight to spare. It was a good day in the Daks even if we didn’t summit. Marshall isn’t going anywhere.
Fast forward a few weeks to Friday 13th …
Some finagling of work schedules and more recent news of a trail-breaking group, had us up at 4:30 am before first light and driving once again to Upper Works for take 2. This time we had one goal- Marshall or bust! Originally, we had planned on possibly joining a larger group that was blazing the way to the Santanoni range, but in the end, we decided we had some unfinished business to take care of in the MacIntyres first. Up until that decision to switch gears, I was bringing work home and staying late at the office so as not to fall behind for the sake of a day off in the mountains. Whatever it takes, right?
I suppose my first mistake that morning was stopping at one cup of coffee, followed by my second blunder – skipping breakfast. But my taste buds weren’t awake yet I guess, and neither was I. I had plenty of trail snacks with me anyway. We made our way along the same route from New Year’s Day and enjoyed the familiar sights and sounds, but stopping far less, to maximize our chances for success. Also, adding to our advantages are actually trying to use electronics as a safety net, firing up the GPS along with some tracking apps on our phones. We have done more research and got some tips from fellow hikers on where to find the herd path as well, so we have a good feeling going into the day, despite what the calendar says.
I have some lower back and hip soreness I am dealing with this morning, but trying to stay ahead of it with vitamin-I. The trail conditions are not as perfect this time but still fine. It had rained earlier in the week and then the temp dropped again forming a frozen glaze over the snow. Crunch, crunch, crunch – all day long (“Mmmm cereal…”).
As usual there’s some new gear today, one of them being a new water bladder. Well I guess I was missing something with how the bite valve works, because I was getting nothing out of it. I did have a water bottle with me though so I wasn’t all that worried. But having to reach around and grab the bottle from the side of my pack every time, instead of simply sucking from the hose, had me drinking less than usual. Before I knew it, dehydration was starting to set in. Without realizing it, this also had me snacking less since I would have to wash down any food with the hard to reach water bottle. So now I add overworked, tired, dehydrated, and malnourished to my list of symptoms.
I am only realizing now how much this came into play after the fact although, Therese did mention that this was probably the source of my issues. At the time, I was just lacking energy and although a tried to push the pace I found it difficult to go beyond a snail’s pace. I felt ok but somehow couldn’t push the envelope. It was hard to understand, although it should have been simple to explain in hindsight. Still we had a goal to reach, so I would push through best I could, which wasn’t very good – I was draggin ass more than ever.
We found the Herbert Brook path just before 11:00 and took an early lunch break at the lean-to for some much-needed fuel and water. Then it was onward and upward. We had some energy now and were hopeful for success. The broken trail was faint thanks to the rain washing over it, but still very visible… at first. That was all about to change though.
For the first half of the HB path we were cruising along pretty good, although in my case still slower than usual. And then somewhere around the halfway point the “trail” would suddenly stop and we found ourselves bushwhacking and breaking our own trail. Then we would find the trail only to lose it once again. At one point, we were on the broken trail but veering considerably to the left of the one plotted on the map, on the GPS and phone app. We were faced with a decision to continue to follow the broken-out path or make our way back to the brook. All the electronics indicated following the brook to the end then continue on that bearing and making a hard left to the summit, while the map showed the trail going to the end of the brook and veering gradually to the left. I thought that if it was good for someone else it was good for us unless it took us too far out of the way, and around the opposite side of the mountain ridge. We followed it for a while then eventually it did turn right and lead us back to the brook.
But once again, AS LUCK WOULD HAVE IT, another dead-end would appear. The off-trail snow was very unstable. The recent rain and then refreeze gave a false security, forming a very weak crust layer over several feet of soft snow. We would walk a few steps and sink to our waist, manage to dig ourselves out, only to sink once more. The struggles persisted like this for the rest of the trip. Even when we managed to find the trail, the post-holes continued, and our snowshoes offered little protection from the quicksand. We were a full hour behind our turnaround time, but we were so close! We had to be!! How could this hell go on much longer? Surely it has to be over soon! And so, we fought our way up that god forsaken mountain through spruce traps, bushwhacking, snow bridges giving way to the icy cold water racing down the valley below, gear malfunctions and batteries dying, muscular breakdowns, energy depletion, broken spirits, and sooooooo many F-BOMBS… OOOH SOOOO MANY F-BOMBS!!!
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But we did not give up! How could we after coming all this way? TWICE!! I’m not gonna lie. Many times, I felt like giving up. Just lay down in the snow and let the mountain take me. The human spirit is a funny thing. In the toughest of times, it fights on, even when there seems nothing worth fighting for.
And then…
Out of nowhere…
From the great white, nothing…
as i cleared the branches from my face…
IT APPEARED!
That wonderful scrawny tree wearing a sign with the only two words that could have made a difference:
“MT. MARSHALL”
We had made it, finally.
We took turns hugging that little tree, sent an “I’m ok” Spot message to our families, took some selfies, and wasted no time starting our descent in hopes of making up some lost time. If we could just get back to the marked trail before dark, we would be ok.
Now we could take in a quick view before heading back into the abyss…
The trip down was a bit better. We were still post-holing and navigating sketchy water ways, sinking in traps, getting our feet wet, changing socks, and struggling to stay on the trail. But it didn’t matter. We made it to the summit and would make it out of this god forsaken place. We may even want to return to the mountains someday (Well let’s not get ahead of ourselves).
We made it back to the marked trail as the sun made its way to the horizon and gave way to the full moon. Everything was going to be fine. I was completely spent but by then was on autopilot making the looooooong zombie death march back to the trail head, by the dim light of our fading headlamps and the brilliant stars. There were no words uttered. It would take too much energy to speak, and we had not a drop left. Marshall had kicked our butt, taught us its lessons, and deepened our respect for the mountain. But really, it could have been a lot worse! I mean people die here! That was no consolation at a time like this though, when it felt like we would never get to the car!
And the death march dragged on… and on… and on.
Until it ended at last.
But would I ever be the same?
2 weeks later…
And so, I found healing in the darndest of places. I knew that to get this sour taste for winter out of my mouth, I needed to get back out there sooner than later. So, I looked at my calendar for my next window, and kept an eye on the weather. But where would I find this therapy? Would I take on another marathon trail-less peak in the Daks? Or maybe I could catch up to Therese on Sawteeth, or Dial/Nippletop if she was unavailable. I tossed ideas around for a week or so. Then I cleared my head and just started making arrangements for the upcoming annual NH48 awards ceremony in April, getting a head count for who would be joining me, and agonizing over which 6 out of thousands of photos I would share in the slideshow. While going through these images and the memories they represented, I suddenly realized how much I already missed the Whites.
So as the weekend neared closer, and the snowy trail conditions became apparent, I needed to nail down a plan. Therese had come down with a cold, so that eliminated anything like Cliff and Redfield. I wasn’t going to tackle another marathon without my hiking buddy. Sawteeth was the one I would go for in the ADKs, but I was now leaning toward something in the Whites. Therese told me to go to the mountain that calls to me. So, I listened to my heart if it was ready to speak to me. Of course! Why not go back to where I got my first taste of wintery hiking? That late November day just before the BIG SNOW year of 2015, where I encountered the powdery trails and saw the Whites through different eyes. That day on Tecumseh, in my cotton layers and a stick for a hiking pole, I looked out from the tree clearing on the summit to the peaks of the Sandwich range and decided I would give my gear an update and make Winter hiking my new favorite.
I hit the trail from the Waterville Valley Ski area parking lot at 9:30 and completed the 5.2 mile journey before lunch, and just like that I WAS CURED! I knew all along that I couldn’t stay mad at the mountains for even any length of time, but I’m not gonna lie: part of me dreaded the thought of another winter trek after my experience on Marshall. This little jaunt up Tecumseh was exactly what I needed. I had found the love again. I’M BACK!!! BRING ON THE NEXT ONE!
26th Entry: Onto the Next Adventure – 7/11-17/16
Adirondacks High Peaks
(Rocky Pk-8, Giant-9, Porter-10, Cascade-11, Whiteface-12, Esther-13)
As I made my hiking plans for the summer, I realized that 10 Peaks left in the Whites would not carry me through until early fall, the time I had my heart set on finishing the NH48. So, I decided I might as well get started on my next objective- adding my name to the list of the many aspiring 46ers. I got my first taste of the Adirondacks last Labor Day weekend, bagging 7 peaks with Therese. I knew I would want to return to that magical land this year, but only recently saw this as the next chapter in my journey. So, after getting myself all the way to 46 of 48 in NH at the close of 4th of July I took a full week of vacation time to get some more “high peak under my belt” (eh-hem). It started the next week with a Rocky route to meet a Giant.
Hike #1- Tuesday July 12th: I came up to my sister’s lake house yesterday and took the day to chill by the lake and prep for my first of 3 hikes I am hoping to bang out this week. I did a search on the 46er Facebook page earlier in the week for shuttle services because this is a point to point hike and I don’t have a car-spot as I am on my own this week. Therese has travel plans with her family and won’t be joining me until my final day before heading back to Mass, but I am no stranger to solo hiking, so I’m gearing myself up for a week of peak bagging, just me and the mountains.
My FB search yielded a post from a few months ago from a girl who had moved to the Lake Placid area and made a generous offer to help out with rides and/or companionship to anyone who needed a little help.
So, after a few messages, she was kind enough to meet me at Chapel Lake where I would spot my car, and drive me to the New Russia trail head where I would start my day. Kindness to a stranger – What a great way to start the day, and not a bad approach to life in general I may add.
So, I take my first steps on ADK soil on the East Trail from Rte 9 to travel 11 miles along Rocky Peak Ridge to bag Rocky Peak and Giant and descend down Roaring Brook to Zander Scott trail to Chapel Pond where my ride awaits. It is quiet on this side as most head up Giant the opposite way, but I’ve never been one to follow the crowd. I’ll take the solitude thanks! By the time I get to Giant the crowds should be all but gone. Until then I have nothing but the gentle breeze and song of the birds through the forest canopy to keep me company.
Very early on, I am rewarded with my first magnificent ADK views, which would be plentiful throughout the day thanks to a big fire in the early 1900s which cleared the higher growth leaving this shorter 2nd batch of trees and many exposed outlooks. (The things you learn when you read about your hike the day before).
I come across a bypass trail for the first peak which only slightly shortens the trail and would deprive me of my first peak –
NOW,
WHY
WOULD
I DO THAT??
So I head on up to Blueberry Cobbles to take in some more vistas and plenty of – well, blueberries (not quite ripe but still tasty).
Dipping a short distance into col and then back up to another small peak with, you guessed it, MORE VIEWS! Then up to Bald Peak for EVEN MORE VIEWS!
All this and I haven’t hit a high peak yet! Getting hungry now. I’ve only gone 4 miles, but I forgot – these are Adirondack miles! They tend to slow you down, if not for the ruggedness of the trail, then at least for the scenery around every corner which demand your attention. So far I am only averaging 1 mile an hour, a ½ mile less than my usual pace, but these are the days where there is more than enough daylight to take on these longer hikes, so I’m not worried about it. The only thing is I have reserved a campsite up at Heart Lake which I’ll have to set up afterward, so I’ll have to leave the final rays of light to do that.
After some lunch, I set out for Rocky Peak Ridge. On the way, I pause at Marie Louise Pond and realize I haven’t seen a human since Amanda dropped off this morning.
Just as I say this, a pile of man-made material appears before me. No not that material! A bundle of lumber apparently to rebuild a bridge over an outlet of the pond.
After another ADK mile I am finally able to check something off the list- Rocky Peak for #8.
(click here for video of ledge near Rocky Peak)
I linger here for a while and still -not a soul to be found! A second lunch is in order though. Oh, and good thing I read the guide which pointed out the lack of streams on this trip. As a result, I am carrying some much-needed extra water weight today.
It isn’t until 8 miles (and almost as many hours) in, as I come to the junction of Roaring Brook trail, where I have my first human encounter: A mother-daughter combo (and Redsox fans no less) coming off of the Giant Summit. I give em a greeting and a “go-sox” and continue my push to my final high peak of the day, but only my second of a bunch this week, and many this summer.
It’s late in the day, about 4pm as I stumble onto the summit of Giant. There is but one other small family up here and I am glad I took the long way here as I bet it was much more crowded earlier. These are by far the most expansive views of the day. I don’t care what time it is when I finish. I am definitely hangin out here for a while! It is obvious why this peak is so popular.
(Click here for video of Giant Mountain summit)
I finish the day with a 3.5-mile steep descent down my #9 to finish off a long amazing day. Along the way, I catch-up with the mother-daughter combo who have added a few companions to their group. They invite me to tag along and we have some chit chat and joking around for a while. But I want to get down to set up camp, and they are moving a bit slow for my taste, even at my sluggish pace today. So, I push ahead and let momentum and gravity take me down the mountain. In the end, I decide that a soak in the tub by the lake and a comfy bed is far more appealing after this long day than the idea of setting up a tent and sleeping on the ground. So, a take the 2.5-hour drive back to the lake house and rest up for my return trip in a few days.
Hike #2- Friday July 15th : The next 2 days were spent chilling by the lake, and spending time with my niece and her boyfriend who joined me for some R &R and even a short local hike – the very same one that got me back into hiking a few years ago. I even took a short drive to my sisters to pick up Simba who always loves a trip to camp.
But the mountains were calling, and I had to answer! So, I took another drive up to the high peaks for another super popular hike – Porter and Cascade Mountains. This is a much shorter but equally spectacular half-day climb. I had originally hoped to tackle the MacIntyre range for my second hike this week, adding a trio of Algonquin, Iroquois, and Wright. But that was when I was still planning on camping at Heart Lake putting me at the trail head right at wake-up for another very long day. Yep, this is more like it – a nice easy day with plenty of views. I’ll save the Mac’s for next time.
Actually I’m adding a few miles to the hike by starting in Keene Valley, but something bout the description from this side appeals to me more. So, I start out at The Garden lot and take the Brothers Trail for a bit then branch off to Porter for 3.6 miles. It’s a gentle walk through the woods that crosses some private land and a dirt road.
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A plaque giving me some history on the making of this trail is posted on a nearby tree. Plenty of green to go around today, with much more lush canopy and less open ridges than the other day for sure.
After some steeper climbing through the forest, I reach the open ledge of Little Porter Mountain and take a breather for the views it offers.
The remainder of the climb was through semi open fields with scattered patches of woods and clearings, before reaching the summit of Porter. It’s a bit breezy and cloudy today, but the views over the short treetops dancing in the wind do not disappoint.
(click here for video of Porter Mountain summit)
Dipping back into the trees for a bit and into the col between the two peaks, I reemerge in no time onto the open rock face of Cascade mountain. The scene is breathtaking in all directions as I share the peak with a good number of other folks enjoying the show.
The wind and clouds have picked up some more, but not so much as to take away from this beautiful display before me. I find a quiet spot to take it in over some lunch. As I write this I am just coming off a long late November slog through snow, slush, ice, mud, drizzle and colder summits and a realize looking back on this day what a treat it is to be able to sit and linger on a summit for as long as your heart desires, in short sleeves without any concern about racing down before nightfall. Maybe we take this privilege for granted just a bit during the long warm dog-days of summer, but if you hike year-round, you inevitably get reminded of the harsher conditions of the colder seasons that shorten your summit visits, and it really makes you appreciate these lazy days that much more… (well let’s just call it HIKER-LAZY)
(Click Here for video of Cascade summit)
After I get my fill, I set out for the return trip back the way I came, then after I swim in Chapel Pond, take the drive back to headquarters to feed Simba and plop myself down on the dock as the sun sets with pink and orange reflecting upon the calm surface of the lake.
The next day, my sister pulls up returning from her family vacation travels just in time to join me one more chill day and then for one more hike tomorrow before I finish up my amazing week in the Daks.
Hike #3- Sunday July 17th : We decided after tossing around a few options to tackle Whiteface today. Just the right length and plenty of summit views to put the final touches on a memorable 2nd ADK trip.
We took the drive up together to the research center lot for a northeastern approach. As we always seem to do, we’ve picked another optimal weather day for our journey, or at least these days far outnumber the worse ones. I’ll take it!! Simba is holding down the fort back at “Lake Jordan”. You see, he has been suffering the effects of heart worm lately and his treatments do not allow him to strain himself in any way. So, as much as he would absolutely LOVE to join us, he must decline and chill at camp. Really not a bad conciliation prize at all. Hopeful that he will heal and get back to feeling more like himself someday. Dogs are made for this!!
Anyway, Whiteface is, in some ways, the ADK version of NH’s Mt Washington – sort of. Well maybe a cross between Washington and Cannon. Like the rockpile, there is a road leading to the top where there are structures viewing platforms, and a weather observation center. But more like Cannon, there is a major ski area with lifts. Whiteface has its own distinctive features though. The road leads, not all the way to the top, but a few hundred feet below, where you can enter a stone structure and take an elevator several stories to the summit. Another interesting characteristic is that if you approach from the south and if you have a boat, or a canoe, you can travel Lake Placid to a trailhead at Whiteface landing and hike from there. We opted to stay on foot and took the shortest route today, which puts us at Marble Mountain and our first lookout to some views just after 10am, followed by the junction with Wilmington Trail.
About this time, Therese decided she needed to clean the breakfast out of her teeth. “I wish I had a tooth pick” she said. Of course, this is one of the many items I have in my pack. She always teases me about all the stuff I bring with me, but she was glad I came through today. We come across what appears to be a very small and very old shelter and then more ski slopes and a lift which open up more nice views.
After some fairly steep climbing, we come to the junction where an unmarked, unmaintained trail leads to Esther’s summit (another 46er). We see that we are making good time, and decide that we will likely bang out this peak today too, on our return trip. But for now, we push on to Whiteface. After a few miles, we start to hear the sounds of the road, so we know we are close. And then a giant stone retaining wall.
At first, I’m like “I hope we don’t have to climb that”, then I see the trail that follow the base of the wall, curving to the left, slowly rising to the top of the wall and to street level.
A few bicyclists are making the road ride to the top today, as well as a good amount of car traffic – but not bumper to bumper or anything. There are several open areas with impressive views already as we travel alongside the roadway.
Then the trail starts to break away from the road and we make the final push onto the summit of the 5th highest ADK high peak. We can see the summit structures coming into view.
We arrive to a fair amount of people mulling about without a drip of sweat on them. I think a few even asked how we came up. I felt like quoting Tom Ryan (author of “Following Atticus”) and replying with – “WE WALKED”. But I contained myself and just told them that we took the trail from the research center.
It’s not too crowded really, not nearly as bad as I expected – certainly well populated but nothing in comparison to Washington, where I had to wait in a winding line of people after a long day of hiking to get a summit photo amongst hordes of tourists in flipflops.
We find a spot off to the side as I wedge my trekking pole in a rock and tie my sweat drenched shirt to it like a flag to dry in the wind. Switching into a fresh shirt, we sit, stuff our faces, and admire the amazing and unique views of the rest of the high peaks and Lake Placid to our south and Lake Champlain and some Canadian peaks to our North and East.
There’s a view-guide display that points out the various peaks and gives a little blurb about the history of Whiteface and its elevation in comparison to other famous mountains.
After a summit pose and a stroll around the summit structures, we finally start back down the way we came.
As we are approaching the split-off to Esther we pass a group that just came from the wooded summit and we ask them how the trail was. One of the group, who seemed like she wasn’t having a good day, responded with “It was difficult and really rough and scratchy”, referring to the overgrowth with sharp edged brush and branches scratching her skin as she made her way through the narrow winding heard path. Alrighty-then! Yeah, these mountains really suck, what a lousy time, I can’t wait ‘til its over! SHEESH, Get a grip lady! Anyway, she gave us some good laughs on our way to Esther, as we mocked her in a whining voice – “Whaaah it’s toooo scraaatchyyyy!!!!”
In no time at all we make it to our 2nd summit of the day and my 6th of the week, 13th overall for me, and I think 19th for Therese.
The small wooded summit is already occupied by a group of tweens with the smell of mother nature up in smoke lingering. So, we get a quick summit shot and get on our way. There’s no views to be had here anyway, and besides Simba is still holding down the fort and will need to be fed soon and we still have most of our descent and a 2+ hour drive in front of us. So, we double-time it down the mountain and make it almost all the way down in record time, only to take a wrong turn near the end onto a snowmobile trail. Simba was glad to see us on our return to camp, and was starving!! I was glad to see the hot tub after that speedy knee-jarring descent. A perfect ending to another perfect trip in the Daks. What will the next half-dozen peaks be? I already can’t wait to find out!
25th Entry: Coming Home – 9/12 & 13/16, 9/24/16
Pemigewasset Wilderness
(Bonds and Zeas-repeat, Garfield-48)
It’s hard to believe that this day has finally arrived. I am taking the final steps to completing this journey. #48 is within reach. Yet it just somehow doesn’t seem like it’s really happening. Almost like I’ve already completed the journey and this hike is less of a hurdle and more of a celebration.
In fact, I have a crew of people that matter the most – FAMILY – gathering at Garfield trail head on Gale River Loop Rd with me this morning to do just that – Celebrate. They are here to mark this occasion with love and support and, for some, get their first taste of some of the beauty I have experienced over the past few years.
With me today is oldest sibling Maryjeanne, her daughter Taylor, second oldest Therese, youngest Sean, and my niece Janelle (daughter of Beth, who is 3rd of 6). So the only sibling not represented is Paul, who is living in NC with his family. He tried to make it happen, but in the end had too many of life’s obstacles to overcome in order to join the festivities. He is with us in spirit though as we set out on the mostly easy to moderate 5-mile climb on this chilly Late-September morning.
I have had this list on pause for 6 weeks since my 47th on Isolation, so that I could finish near the same time and place where I started, and so that I could get as many of this wonderful group to join me.
But don’t worry I’ve been keeping busy putting another big dent in my ADK 46er list checking off Algonquin, Iroquois, Wright, Marcy, and Phelps bringing me up to 19 already just 2 shy of Therese who is setting the pace on this one. I guess I’ve got a lot or writing to do. Maybe I’ll keep these writings a bit shorter than my long-winded 48. Something tells me I won’t be able to. I have seen so many amazing things this season in the Daks. In any case, I’m glad to be back in the Whites again.
As we make our way up Garfield Trail with the morning sun filtering through the canopy, all of the usual antics and banter of a typical Coste gathering gets underway. The stories are many, the jokes and remarks are flying everywhere, along with lots of thoughtful insights on life and each of our respective journeys. With all of these distractions, the miles fly by in no time! In fact, it hardly seems like a hike at all, at least not the type I am used to.For the most part, my journey has been one of solitude, peace, and self-discovery with occasional breaks in the action, when one or two others were along for the trip to provide some company. This is a very different dynamic for sure with this semi-large group. But you know what? I wouldn’t want it any other way! Everyone is 100% engaged in the day and adding so much to this grand finale! My heart is so full I hardly stand it!!
Still it is a bit surreal to me. I have long pictured this day to bring some sort of profound closure, and to be struck with an emotional breakthrough or epiphany, that I would somehow get the feeling of becoming whole. Well, maybe that’s asking a bit much of the act of walking. Besides, I think that deep meaning came earlier in the month when Therese and I set out to relive our first hike together in the remote mountain range in the Pemigewasset Wilderness known as The Bonds.
Backtrack a few weeks and several years…
I have often referred to my trek along Franconia Ridge as the birthplace of this quest. While it was what kicked off my pursuit of climbing all 48 of the 4000 footers, it actually began many years before without me even realizing it. All along throughout this adventure, there was one hike I wanted to squeeze in somewhere before it was all said and done: My first backpack trip from my younger years when Therese, Paul and I hiked Bondcliff, Mount Bond, and West Bond. I have such fond memories of that trip, but they are all foggy ones, having taken place so long ago. I wanted to renew that experience and return back to where it all began, this time documenting in greater detail what I vaguely remember as a magical voyage. I would finally get that chance in the coming days…
My sister and I couldn’t get to the trail head soon enough as we made our way down Zealand Rd after camping at Sugarloaf the night before. We donned our extra heavy loads for an overnight mountain excursion for the ages.
The first miles were an adjustment to the added weight through meadows, streams, beaver ponds and hardwood forests on a crisp autumn-like late-summer morning. Taking a few mid-week days off for this trip was the best decision ever! I could swear we had all of the whites to ourselves, if not for the cars we had parked amongst back at the trail head.
Paul will be in our thoughts for this trip as we recall the memories of our first white mountain outing and gear up to make a ton of new ones. The one thing I cannot share in these writings are the aromas that permeate everywhere. They are intoxicating to say the least, and really put you in the moment and transport you to a better place figuratively and literally.
We don’t have definite plans on where camp will be but have a few places in mind. The idea is just to cover as many miles as we feel able to on day one, so that day 2 can be all about the peaks.
So far, these gentle slopes and meandering flat-lands are far more pleasant than the grueling slog in from Lincoln Woods which was our approach from yesteryear. There is so much variety on every turn from this side.
A short break at a picturesque waterfall, and then another at Zealand Hut to get our bearings and we are off for some more miles, before our first extended break at Zeacliff outlook which brought back another early day backpacking memory. Back then the 3 of us approached this area from (I think) Thoreau Falls and included Zealand, which we will also hit today on our way to camp.
The outlook turned out to be our first human encounter as an older very outgoing gentleman joined us. We took in some of his stories and got him to snap a photo then continued on our way. We would play leap frog with him a few more times throughout the day for more story time shenanigans.
Our second of very few human encounters happened at the wooded summit of Zealand Mountain. So with the addition of this peak we were only short Hale from the first-fab-five-from-formative-family-fun.
Mount Guyot (pronounced gee-oh) served as our lunchtime vista, and what a vista it was! It was here where we first got the sense of being endless miles away from any signs of civilization. By now we had decided to make it all the way to Guyot campsite to set up for the night, and then depending on time, try to get West Bond for sunset.
After getting our tent set up on our platform, we switched to our day packs and cruised up to West in no time flat. We sat speechless on the small bare rock summit area and all time stood still.
I looked at every one of the surrounding peaks and remembered the days I spent traveling to each and every one. I could have sat staring off into the great wide open forever! After what must have been an eternity, I turned to my sister, fighting back the tears, and said “It’s like coming home”.
She responded in agreement, pointing out that I had had the closest thing to a spiritual awakening as you can get, and added that no matter how big and overwhelming your problems and challenges of everyday life may seem, you get to places like this and realize how small they really are and that everything will be ok. Many of these wonderful little bumps have filled my heart, but this one burst it wide open!
(click here for video of West Bond Summit)
I was content to stay here sitting on my rock with my head on a swivel until morning, but alas the voice of reason did eventually take over, or maybe it was the voice of hunger, grumbling from our hollow bellies. In any case, since the sun was still quite high in the sky, we decided that we would instead shoot for sunrise on Mount Bond, and with that headed back to camp for some dehydrated grub and an early shuteye to wrap up an amazing day one and rest up for the 2nd half.
To be continued…
Fast forward back to present day…
This hike could not be more different than those days on the Bonds. Garfield trail is swarmed with folks making their way to this very popular peak. It’s so great to have my family along for the trek today! We are all having a blast and surprisingly as a group we are moving along at a decent clip. I was a tad concerned about that, not knowing for sure everyone’s fitness levels, with most of the group not being frequent hikers, and also having two diabetics in the group. Actually we did have to stop a few times to address this condition with MJ’s blood sugar running high and Janelle’s running low, but they both seem to be managing their symptoms just fine- Well, Janelle is struggling just a bit more with the addition of a poor night’s sleep the night before, but she is a trooper and moving along just fine.
The good thing is that we are all there to motivate each other and lend a hand when needed. Therese (the other avid hiker in the group) is assuming the duty of bringing up the rear for the most part – “No man left behind”, while I am going back and forth trying to connect with each one of my companions.
Sean was actually the person I was most unsure of not knowing what kind of shape he was in these days, but I am impressed that he is leading the pack for a good part of the day giving his cotton layers a good drenching.
I wasn’t about to lecture anyone on cotton, or technique or any good hiking practices today. I will mention something here and there if it comes up, but I just want to enjoy the day in a carefree way and them to do the same If they take to hiking more often, I will clue them in on details. The other leader today is Taylor. She is a natural! I see amazing trail stories in her future! She has gotten so grown up and smart too, more than I realized. Also offering me some peace of mind, being an EMT and the designated first aid expert in the group! This family is so diverse, in its assorted paths each of us has chosen and are still making choices on. The quirks are many believe me – but I think that’s what make it all so interesting and one thing is for sure, there is no lack of love and support from any one of us. I consider myself lucky to be a part of this strange eclectic crew. I couldn’t be more honored to offer my way of life as a means to bring us all together. Our group effort was rewarded with the views that lived up to their promise, and then some.
If only I could stay focused on today and live in the moment! But my mind would occasionally drift to the many trails that lead me here: That autumn ridge walk that first woke my soul on the Franconias, the simplicity of Tecumseh in November transitioning me into the tranquility of an unforgettable winter in Crawford Notch, the first blooming of spring around the Bowl of Ferncroft, then more of Sandwich Range for my first solo overnight with the Osceolas, a special Father’s Day hike with the boy, leading to a summer of rugged Presis mixed in with some eerie walks in the woods on Willey and Waumbek and of course who could forget Washington… and that was only the first half! So many unforgettable days since then, each unique and special in their own right, and each living in its own special place in my heart… which of course holds an enormous section for that treasured return to childhood innocence in the Bonds…
Backtrack to day two of that trip…
A 4:30 wakeup had us reaching for headlamps and a few extra layers to hit the trail once again.
As we made our way to the dwarfed treeline, the orange was already appearing on the horizon.
The glow gradually grew as we made our way higher and higher until reaching Bond to a gorgeous sunrise.
Colors exploded everywhere as the endless layers purple along the contours of the great white wilderness awoke to kiss the sky and light it on fire. What a great way, although very chilly, to experience the Whites! Good call sis!
(Click here for video of Mount Bond Sunrise)
Now making our way down the back side of the mountain the purple morphing into blue and orange to pink, with the ridge of Bondcliff ahead of us glowing in sunlight as the first rays peaked out from the mighty slopes of Mount Bond. A brief dip into tree cover and then we reemerged to the exposed ridge of Bondcliff with the wind now whipping around at a pretty good clip from the west.
We picked spot in the rocks along the eastern slope to shield us from the squalls, heated up our morning coffee, and ate cold hard boiled eggs and oatmeal-fruit munk-packs as we watched the rest of the show being displayed for the only two lifeforms in existence as far as eyes could see.
After breakfast, and a piss into the wind (bad idea), it was time for the grand finale – the summit of Bond Cliff – my first ever NH4k, now coming full circle! As we walked the ridge in wonder, a familiar sight caught my eye. It was the famous cliff, the one everyone gets their picture on. I have seen it so many times now on facebook, that I recognized it immediately.
I double backed and inched my way out onto the ledge, feeling a little bit weak in the knees. Therese snapped a few of the obligatory pose, and then it was her turn to redo that grainy childhood polaroid shot.
Then it was onto tag the highpoint and linger some more, feeling like the luckiest people in the world to have this place to ourselves and just get lost in this feeling that cannot be put into words!
(click here for video of Bondcliff Grand Finale)
All that was left now was the long trip back to our cars. We met a few of our fellow campers on our way out for some chit-chat, including the fellow from Zeacliff who parted with these words of wisdom- “HAVE A WONDERFUL LIFE!” Indeed, we will, although I can’t imagine it getting much better than right here, right now.
(click here for video encore of Bondcliff -twice around)
Our load is now lighter, but we are leaving with so much more what we came with! Bonds that last forever.
Foreword once again…
That trip has stayed with me to this day, and was still very much present as I sat on the busy peak of Garfield staring off into the distance at those wonderful Bonds remembering that feeling, and for the first time, finding myself drifting out of the moment, as though looking down upon myself from somewhere else. There was something I was supposed to feel today now that I have come to the completion of the journey, but somehow I am strangely out of place, like I suddenly have no purpose. Something is missing and I must get it back. I look around at these peaks and I know how far I have come, but at this moment it doesn’t seem like I am the one who took those many, many steps up all those mountains. What does it all mean? What did I prove to myself, and to others by this accomplishment? I sit there on the ledge in the presence of beauty, pondering the meaning behind what I had done and finding nothing, at least not at this very moment.
I decide to let go, and save the pondering for a different day, and snap myself out of it to enjoy the here and now. I get back to the group where my family celebration is in full swing, complete with sparkling cider toast, joking at large containers with enough fruit and veggies AND GRANOLA-BALLS to feed an army, funny (in a Coste sort of way) bazar comments like “I enjoy spending time with you…in moderation”, “Oh is 48 peaks actually ‘a thing?’ I thought it was something Mike made up”, “What if I have to pee?” and my own “This hike is a chick-flick” decorated the air… until, wait who’s missing? I return once again to the summit to retrieve the two wayward wanderers, Maryjeanne who decided she would continue straight on to Lafayette and Sean who decided he would stay on Garfield forever. We got everyone back together safe and sound and continued our descent, proceeding to laugh our way right down the mountain. At one point I looked back and noticed Sean was carrying two backpacks! He had simply decided he was gonna lighten the load for Janelle who was still feeling the effects of her struggles earlier in the day. That’s how we roll. If someone is in need of help there is no hesitation to lend a hand. We all live our separate lives these days for the most part, but always seem to come together when it matters most.
(click here for video of Garfield summit)
As the day comes to its close and we exchange hugs as we depart the trailhead lot to reconvene back at camp to warm by the fire with massive amounts of food, I expressed my odd moments of disconnection with the event. Taylor in her profound insight gave me an explanation I could live with. I forget her exact words but she put it so fluently – something to the effect of I had built this moment so much in my head that I had already realized the magnitude of the event and had excepted its conclusion coming to peace with whatever I felt about the whole journey days or even weeks before. I think she hit the nail on the head. The warmth of the fire could not compare to the warmth in my heart for this family reunion. Maryjeanne echoed my sentiments as she recalled early childhood camping trips and observed that this trip brought her back to an immeasurable clarity of who we really are. It turns out the answer I was looking for on the ledge today was found a long time ago. I didn’t prove a damn thing except that this right here is the definition of happiness, and this journey thankfully never really ends. …and why would I want it to? We should all be so lucky to be blessed with the opportunity to lose ourselves only to find ourselves, and in my case find a peace, spirituality and overall well-being that I never knew was in me, and that stays with me wherever I go. Just like coming home, indeed. 48 and counting.
- From a world that’s never ending,
- From a sky beyond the skies,
- A child is born
- and love is made alive
- And you are the wind at my back
- You give what I lack
- You’re the jewel in my hand
- You’re like rain on dry land
- And my soul has been kissed
- Just because you exist
- You’re the blue in my black
- You’re the wind at my back ~ Neal Morse
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