Mount Colden (11)

10/14/2018

It was a month and a half into the semester and I really needed some solitude in the mountains to replenish my spirits, so I settled on heading out on Sunday to climb Colden Mountain. I woke up at 4am on a cold, dark morning and made it to the trailhead at the ADK Loj right at 7am. The lot was already about half full, and I was a little disappointed that I wouldn’t have the trails to myself, but that was to be expected. While I waited in a short line to sign in at the register I took a picture of this amazing sign instructing hikers to poop responsibly and took a super glamorous selfie of my drowsy face.

I headed down the path at 7:30am with a smile on my face, so happy to be spending a day in the woods. After 20 minutes, I arrived at the first junction in the trail. Whenever possible, I like to hike a loop instead of an out-and-back, so I chose to climb up from Lake Colden (the steeper path) and head down via Lake Arnold. With that in mind, I turned left at this junction to head toward Marcy Dam and Avalanche Lake.

About 30 minutes later I arrived at Marcy Dam, 2.2 miles from the trailhead. I took some photos of the rising sun’s rays on the surrounding mountains and took my obligatory 5 minute break at a rock on the other side of the dam at the “Marcy Dam Outpost” sign. I try to take a 5 minute break once every hour to stretch, drink water, and give my back a break from my pack.

At 8:30am, an hour after leaving the trailhead, I reached the next junction and continued to the right to head towards Avalanche Lake and Lake Colden. 30 minutes later I was at the next junction. I continued to the right, and took note that I would be returning on the path to the left toward Lake Arnold.

I was excited about the next portion of the trail, which is surrounded by large mossy boulders alongside the Avalanche Pass Slide.

I was having a heckin’ hard time with my camera today! Every time I brought it up to my eye, everything would fog up! With that in mind, I apologize for the “misty” images on this trip report ūüėÖ I made it to Avalanche Lake at 9:40am, a little over 2 hours after leaving the trailhead. Avalanche Lake is one of my favorite spots in the high peaks. This 9-acre lake sits at over 2800′ in elevation right between the vertical cliffs of Mount Colden and Avalanche Mountain.

I started my way around the lake and stopped for second breakfast on a nice rock overlooking the lake. While sitting there, I passively noticed a boat on the other side of the lake…after several minutes, it occurred to me….How did that boat get there?! I assume it was helicoptered in, but I can’t help to imagine a person hauling it over their shoulders on the 5.2 mile trail in!

AFter a few minutes respite, I continued on the trail around the lake. Boy, I had forgotten how intense this trail is! Between the huge boulders to climb over and around, the ladders, and the hitch-up matilda’s along the way, it takes me a solid half-hour to traverse the lake.

At 10:20am I happily found myself at the other end of the lake. I snapped a few lousy pictures before continuing ahead toward Lake Colden.

The trail here because quite muddy, which pretty much set the stage for the trail conditions for the rest of the day. While I was trekking toward Lake Colden, I had an AMAZING moment where I was walking across some puncheon over a muddy bog while a Ranger was coming the opposite way on his patrol. OF COURSE I stepped on the end of a puncheon board and OF COURSE it wasn’t secured at the other end, so there I am flailing my arms while the board flies up in a comically dramatic teeter-totter fashion….AND OF COURSE I did the exact same thing at the OTHER END of the board…At the ONE MOMENT IN THAT LAST 4 MILES that someone else is on the trail.
My gracefulness is really astounding sometimes!

There were a few portions of the trail along Lake Colden that were completely submerged in the lake itself from all of the recent rain and snowmelt, so some bushwhacking was involved to make it across. Before long I had made it to the next junction at 11:00am. I turned left to leave the lake and head up to Colden.

The initial trail up was quite pleasant. It was never particularly steep or too muddy. I foolishly thought “Hey! Maybe it’s not as steep as everyone said it would be! This is nothing!”….Yeah, you all know where this is going. OF COURSE it was way more difficult, I just hadn’t gotten to that point yet. But in that brief moment of bliss, I happily traipsed along and let a large group of French Canadians pass me by.

After about a mile the conditions changed…a bit…(read: The trail amped up to a 10 to cruelly haze the unworthy). Thankfully some AMAZING trail crews had built ladders and steps to traverse the truly difficult sections.

At about this time, I kept catching up to the back end of the large group that I had let pass me. I was getting quite frustrated to have to keep stopping every time they stopped, so just as the trail started to get icy I opted to pass them all and hustle a bit to make sure they didn’t catch up again. (They were quite nice, it was just a large group and I didn’t want to hear voices behind me while I was hiking!) At this time, a couple were coming down the slick slides verrrry carefully and they informed me that there was a lot of ice up ahead. With that in mind, I trudged on.

Sure enough, they were not lying. And I am SO SMART that I, being the stubborn mule that I am, opted not to put on the microspikes that were conveniently strapped to the back of my pack for easy access.

I clawed my way up tooth and nail very carefully along Colden’s smooth rock slides until I reached another ladder, and I just KNEW that this one would bring me to the top.

I turned around at the top and let out a hearty laugh in awe at the views. Those views make everything worth it, every time.

I had really thought I was close to or at the summit, but, and I’m sure this comes as no surprise, I most definitely was not. So onward I went, but now I had some stunning views every step of the way.

I loved seeing the path that I had taken up there from the “almost summit” or whatever it was that I was on. And even better, I had a fantastic view of my favorite trio of peaks along the MacIntyre range.

I climbed up one final stretch to see a stunning view of a chilly Mt Marcy, with some supplied that may have been dropped in for some impending trail work.

I was a little bit confused, as I continued along the snowy trail and was unsure of exactly where the summit was. I came upon a sign designating where to leave a rock carried up from the trailhead, and wandered down a path to a rock in a small clearing. At 1pm, while I was standing on that rock, a couple of fellas came down and “tagged” the rock, at which point I shouted (or yelled and frightened them probably) “WAIT. Is this the SUMMIT?!?” and it was! How anticlimactic! So I snapped a picture of some circle on the rock (I’m so technical) and wandered back out of the clearing to find a nice spot to have lunch.

I enjoyed my lunch of a sandwich, babybel cheese, and some gherkin pickles (oddly delicious after a day of hiking) while looking out towards Algonquin. And can’t forget the victory chocolate!

Now, let’s talk again at how intelligent I am. AFTER I had passed over all of the steep icy sections of trail, while I was sitting at the summit, I thought, hey, it’d be such a great idea to put my spikes on now! So I did….and encountered no more ice along the trail. Ha! At least I tried. As I headed down the path toward Lake Arnold, the trail passed over a bare rocky outcropping, so I sat for a break and to take in the breathtaking sight of Mt Marcy right next door.

At about 2pm I left again for Lake Arnold. The trail down from Colden was quite tough. It was all mud and rockhopping. Almost immediately, my right knee began to ache, so I stopped frequently to stretch and roll out my IT band with my trekking pole. Who knew trekking poles were so versatile?

By the time I made it to the junction with Lake Arnold 45 minutes later, the twinges in my knee had ceased to subside and an old injury in my SI joint was starting to cause lightning-like spasms in my lower back. It’s so fun having a body that acts like it’s been bowled over by a steamroller with the slightest provocation! So I chose not to visit Lake Arnold but went left to keep slowly making my way down the mountain.

Along the way down, I met a couple coming up who seemed perturbed. They thought they were on the wrong trail coming down from Colden because it looked so different from the path they were on that morning. After looking at the map, I suggested that there was no other path down from the previous junction, and that the trail looked so different because all of the snowmelt was turning it into a veritable river. Still unconvinced, we all continued our way down. I passed them up, and about 30 minutes later I came to another junction which verified the path we were on was the correct one. It’s incredible how much water just a little bit of snow can create!

I didn’t take many photos after that. The pains in my knee and back were intense and it took all of my mental acuity to focus on getting down the mountain. Finally, at 4pm, I made it to the junction and lied down on this wooden bridge to stretch my legs and back.

After I probably freaked out a few passing hikers by lying there on that bridge, I continued my way back toward Marcy Dam.

And that’s the last picture I took of the day. The pain was relentless and I lulled myself into a trance-like state to focus through the pain. I continually reminded myself to take one step at a time, and that the worst was behind me. After continuing on like this for 3 more miles, I dragged my aching body out to my car just before 6pm and let out a frustrated huff as I sat down to drive home.

I’m so disappointed that these so-called “overuse” injuries are still plaguing me, considering I’ve been resting with minimal straining activity for 15 months. Back to the drawing boards, hopefully I’ll be back soon.

19 down, 27 left!

Mount Colden: Elevation – 4714′ Elevation Gain – 2535′

Round Trip Distance: ~14 miles

Total Duration: 10.5 hours

Tabletop (19) and Phelps (32)

07/19/2018

Nearly 1 year ago to the day I unknowingly climbed my last 46ers for an entire year (Iroquois, Algonquin, and Wright). Shortly after what was the best hike of my life, I developed a brutal overuse injury in my right knee/leg and was left unable to hike for MONTHS. Not just mountains, but any trail at all. This past year has been quite a journey. From getting my PhD and being hired as a professor of Electrical Engineering, to getting divorced, launching my professional photography career, and learning two new instruments, all while sloooowly recovering from my knee injury, this year has been fraught with personal growth and change.

A few weeks prior, I had climbed Hopkins Mountain and used that as a test of whether I was ready to return home to the high peaks. Needless to say, that adventure was a success, so I set off at 4:30am to head to the Loj. I arrived at 6:30am, paid the $10 parking fee, and was just a little excited as I signed in at the trailhead.

It was a balmy 43 degrees F at the start, but I quickly warmed up as I treaded along the packed dirt trail.

I really love starting hikes early in the morning and catching the rays of light as they filter low through the trees.

There were more people than I expected on the trail this morning, but no one else had signed in for Tabletop and Phelps, so I was hoping to have the summits to myself. I was however leapfrogging with a young couple (I won’t get into how ill-prepared they were assuming they were headed up Marcy…in flat tennis shoes and cotton >.<). I let them go ahead because I was stopping every 10.5 seconds to take pictures. While I slowly crossed this bridge, I spotted this little snake warming itself in the early suns rays!

After half an hour I came to the first junction sign and headed left toward the Marcy Dam lean-tos.

The trail up to the dam is so nice to walk. Packed earth, no mud, and a gentle easy ascent. I feel it’s a great warm-up to a strenuous hike. As I crested one hill, I heard a loud rustling to my left, and caught a snowshoe hare foraging in the woods! Of course it started to move just as I got my camera ready, so this is the best I got:

At 7:30am, an hour after leaving the trailhead, I found myself at Marcy Dam alongside a large group of trailworkers enjoying their morning breakfast.

I didn’t want to disturb them, so I crossed to the other side of the dam to follow my “1 hour” rule and take a break to stretch and drink water (and have a snack of course).

I read this heap of signs from my perch on a large rock while I stretched. There seems to be a discrepancy in the overall distances to Phelps and Tabletop between my guide book, map, and the trail signs. Perhaps they need updating?

After a good 5 minute respite I continued on my way and signed in at the next register before starting the next leg of my journey.

After this point the trail (the Van Hoevenberg trail) climbed a bit more steeply and steadily, however it was still very easy going. There were no sections where I had to pull myself up or figure out how to make it from one point to another. As I watched the rising sun filter through the trees, I reflected on how far I’ve come in the past year, from my knee recovery to living the best version of myself. As I strolled through the woods I momentarily closed my eyes and breathed, letting all else go and relishing the freedom of the woods and feeling so, so thankful for the progress I’ve made.

About 15 minutes after leaving Marcy Dam I came to a high water bridge. I was unsure at first which way to go forward; I could continue on the right side of the stream, or I could cross the bridge; either way the trail continued with blue markers. I had figured there is another rock-hopping crossing further up ahead, and I was correct; the trail diverges slightly just to reconnect further up ahead.

After this point the trail was like a freaking highway. I’m thinking it would be a good choice in a night-hike since it’s super easy to follow and relatively free of tripping hazards.

Two hours after leaving the trailhead I reached the junction to Phelps. I had decided to grab Phelps after hitting Tabletop, so I passed it on up and continued on my way, passing a pretty cascade and sooo many toads along the way.

I passed a couple of other signs leading the way before finally arriving at the junction to Tabletop at 9:15am. I was feeling pretty darn good at this point, but I still took a short stretch-food-water break before starting the inevitably steeper ascent.

I had heard that there were no views from the summit of Tabletop, but I was really enjoying the trek up to the summit. It was more rugged, narrow, with lots of towering pines and verdant moss. Though this is technically a “trail-less” peak, it’s nearly impossible to accidentally end up off trail.

At this point I was finally feeling like I was on an Adirondack trail! That highway up Marcy is really deceiving and not at all indicative of the real Adirondack experience.

I was enjoying the trail so much that I was a bit surprised when it spit me out right at the summit, with the summit marker AND A VIEW!

I was so pleased that there was a view! Why is everyone saying there are no views from up here?

I immediately sat my butt down and started shoveling food into my face hole. PB&J sammich, victory chocolate, victory cheese, and a pickle! I’m so proud of my 4:30am food prep!

I was so happy to have the summit to myself. I couldn’t believe that after a year I was finally back on a high peak. The 46ers had become on a pedestal in my mind, and every day that passed and I still couldn’t hike made them seem that much more insurmountable.

I hung out up there for about an hour, collecting my thoughts, before heading back down just before 11am. As I headed down, I heard someone coming up the trail, and lo and behold it was a friend of mine, Gavin! So naturally I took a candid photo as he was dragging himself up the mountain.

We chatted for a moment, then continued on our way, planning to meet up on Phelps. Half an hour later I was back at the junction, turning right to get back onto the Van Hoevenberg trail and heading toward Phelps. I made it back to the Phelps trail at 12:07pm. I was getting exhausted at this point, but there was nothing in the world that would keep me from climbing this one too, so up I went.

This trail was definitely steeper than the Tabletop trail. Certainly not the steepest I’d done (see the hike up to Boundary peak from Avalanche lake….holy moly), but it was steeper than anything I’d done in a year! I stopped probably a dozen times for short breaks to curse and stretch and question my life choices.

And the damn thing JUST KEPT GOING! The sign at the junction denoted the summit at 1 mile away, but it must be longer than that. At some point, a guy descending said “You’re almost there!” and I looked at him exactly like this after clambering clumsily to the top of a boulder:

I was full of sass and said “I hope you’re being honest!”. Naturally he was a little taken aback because how weird can I be, but he assured me that in 1/8 mile I would be seeing the first views. To be honest, I didn’t believe him, but I slogged on anyway. And, I admit it, HE WAS RIGHT! I climbed to the top of this boulder along the trail to get the first AMAZING views.

Mount Colden towards left center, Iroquois, Algonquin, and Wright on the right

I was immediately energized after this, practically smelling the summit so close by. A woman coming down had warned me that the path to the top was confusing, and I suppose it was, but I followed the yellow blazes and made my way just fine.

At 1:30pm, 7 hours after starting, I planted my feet on the summit of Phelps Mountain. I couldn’t find a summit marker, but the group of people lounging at the top were a good indicator that I’d made it. And boy were the views STUNNING!

Naturally, I sat down to have second lunch, which consisted of another victory cheese, another victory chocolate, a pickle, and a fruit cup…and a couple of fig newtons…And some gatorade. ūüėÄ Make sure you eat enough while hiking! And eat things with electrolytes! I try to stay away from dry food (like trail mix bars and crackers). I stretched out a bit up there and talked with some other hikers, and we helped each other identify the peaks in the distance with the help of my trail map and compass.

From left to right: Giant, RPR, Lower wolfjaws, Upper wolfjaws, Armstrong, Gothics, Saddleback, Basin, Haystack, Tabletop, Marcy

I was SO glad to have climbed Tabletop first. It would have been so demoralizing to be sitting at the top of Phelps looking at Tabletop, seemingly 42 miles away. I definitely recommend Tabletop first!

After spending nearly at hour at the summit, my buddy made his way to the top too, looking just as miserable as I had felt during that climb. I hung out up there with him and an eccentric school teacher with a weeks worth of supplies crammed into a day pack for another 25 minutes or so while trying to photograph one of the dozens of huge dragonflies patrolling the area.

It was pretty darn hot up there though, and the sun was causing my contacts to shrinkwrap to my eyeballs, so I decided to set off before my eyes completely shriveled in their sockets (like that imagery?). Gavin wasn’t ready to leave yet though, so I said I’d wait for him at the bottom and took one last glance before descending.

I took a little over 2 hours to make it back to the trailhead. My knee had been doing pretty great all day, but there was some definite pain during the last two miles, requiring me to stop and stretch quite frequently. I finally hobbled out to my car at about 5pm, and struck up conversation with a gentleman who’d climbed Marcy that had passed me twice along the way. I love meeting interesting people while hiking! I feel like that doesn’t happen as much when I’m hiking with other people. Another benefit to solo hiking, I think! I waited for my friend at the bottom, and we decided to hit up the new eatery at the info center near the parking lot, the Hungry Hiker. I recommend it! It was just what we needed after a long day in the mountains.

I’m so, so happy to finally be back in the high peaks where I belong. After a couple of weeks to recover and grow stronger, I’ll be back for more. 18 down, 28 to go! Happy hiking!

Phelps Mountain: 4160′

Tabletop Mountain: 4413′

Elevation Gain: 3818′

Round Trip Distance: ~12-13 miles

Total Duration: ~8 hours + 2.5 hours at summits

Iroquois (8), Algonquin (2) and Wright (16) Mountains (+Boundary Peak)

7/16/17

It’s been a couple of weeks since I climbed Nippletop and Dial, and with my PhD dissertation defense looming over me (it’s on the 24th of this month, and I’m dreading it), I desperately needed to get into the mountains. I signed in at the trailhead at the ADK Loj at exactly 6am, grabbed a rock to take to the summit, and set off.

The trail was nice and wide and flat, with nice puncheon and walkways throughout. A few times, I had to check the map because the trail intersected with several ski trails, but I just continued straight, following the blue trail markers.

Not long after starting, I came across a junction sign and followed the path towards Avalanche Lake, 4 miles away.

Most people climb these three mountains by going right at that first sign to hit Wright first, then Algonquin, then Iroquois, then BACK OVER Algonquin, then back down the way they came up. I was determined to make this hike a loop by going up the steep pass after Avalanche Lake, going up to Iroquois, then to Algonquin and Wright.

Half an hour later, I came upon a trail sign for Mt. Marcy, and Marcy Dam followed shortly afterward. The dam itself wasn’t crossable, but a sign led me down towards a nice bridge.

Moments later I encountered another junction sign and went right to continue towards Avalanche Lake. 15 minutes later I came across another bridge over the brook, and took the opportunity to sit on a rock and have a snack.

Yet again, only a few moments after I left the bridge, another junction sign pointed the way towards my destination. Up until this point, I’d been leap-frogging with another hiker (Chris!) and we’d continued to do so all the way up to the summits, so I passed him up and continued on my way.

I knew I was starting to get close to the lake when I started feeling like I was in Nelson’s Ledges (look it up…then book a trip to Ohio).

I crossed another little bridge along the way, and when I turned to look behind me I saw the most perfect spider web catching the light from the morning sun.

At 8am, I made it to Avalanche Lake and it took my breath away.

I went right, slogging through the thick mud, and was super grateful for my gaitors. I followed the trail for just a few minutes before stopping on a big boulder to enjoy another snack and take a few photos.

The trail around the lake was tricky, and included awesome hitch-up Matildas (which are being replaced in August, and are named for a story about a woman named Matilda Fielding back in 1868), giant boulders to climb over and between, and steep ladders. It was a ton of fun.

Good thing they’re being replaced, because this one was missing a board. I’m glad I wasn’t there when that happened!

I reached the other end of the lake an hour later at 9am, and another register just a few minutes later.

The trail was so luscious and green after that point, and several minutes later I crossed another bridge.

After I crossed it and started to descend again, I looked back up and saw a junction sign that I had missed on the other side of the bridge. I’m so smart guys, because I decided, ‘Nah, This path feels right!’ and unknowingly proceeded 0.25 mile in the wrong direction. I reached this little outpost, and a junction sign thereafter, at which point I took out my map to figure out where the hell I was.

Just as I was reaching the conclusion that I had to backtrack, a group of badass backpacking women came through and set me on the right path, back at the junction I stupidly passed.

I was back on the right path at 9:40am, and the path immediately started climbing and following a beautiful brook full of waterfalls.

At one point, I reached the top of the falls, and the trail actually went out into the stream bed. It was so incredible to be up there, looking up at the falls.

Despite being overwhelmingly beautiful, this trail was *expletive of your choice* BRUTAL. It involved tons of boulders to climb up, and the trail continued to follow the stream, often being directly IN the water. I was baffled at how there was water when I was up so high. Where does it even come from?? The ground, I guess, but…I just don’t know. This trail was sort of becoming my own personal hell. It just kept GOING, and going and going and….I seriously considered more than once that I had never actually woken up that morning, and was instead having a nightmare about being on a neverending stairmaster.

I was frustrated, tired, and getting a bit lightheaded from the constant UP, when I met a small group of people who asked where I was headed. I told them, Iroquois, and they looked at me confused and said I was going up Algonquin. My stomach dropped. They asked how far down until they would reach the top of Boundary….I asked, were they certain the junction wasn’t behind them? Because the trail I was on literally hadn’t stopped ascending, for even a second, since I had started it. I left them there to consider their options while I continued up, certain that I hadn’t reached the junction yet. After seriously questioning my life choices for a few moments, lo and behold, I FINALLY reached a large cairn at 11:30am, to the right of which was the looming Algonquin, and to the left was a narrow, overgrown trail that could be easily be missed by anyone.

The views were beautiful, and the ascent up to Boundary Peak was quick and painless. I was so excited, the pain in my legs and feet just faded away. Boundary peak was supposedly named because it was the boundary between the Iroquois and Algonquin Native American tribes., however I’m not sure how true this is. Despite being 4,829 feet high, is not considered a high peak because it does not have enough prominence.

Looking toward Iroquois from the summit of Boundary Peak.

At about Noon, I had reached the impressive summit of my 14th high peak, Iroquois!

Looking back toward Algonquin.

Mt. Colden behind me.

The views were phenomenal, with complete unimpeded 360 panorama. I immediately sat my butt down and ate my sammich and victory chocolate.

I enjoyed seeing the beastly trail around Avalanche Lake and up to Boundary from the summit.

Lake Colden toward the middle, with the Flowed Lands to it’s right.

While there, I met many awesome people, including the trio that had unintentionally given me a heart attack. We chatted for a time (shoutout to Matt Cook!) and took photos for each other.

I ruefully left the summit at about 12:45pm, and made it back to the junction 15 minutes later to look up at the monster Algonquin.

The way up Algonquin was steep and exhausting, but the thought of the views at the summit kept my feet moving.

20 minutes later and I was sitting near the summit ripping my boots and socks off of my blistered feet to roam around barefoot. I HIGHLY recommend this! It was made even better by the fresh clean socks I kept in my pack for afterward, so I wouldn’t have to put the same nasty socks on again.

I enjoyed my time at the summit for about an hour, talking with a bunch of awesome people and enjoying another snack (of course). I spoke with one group who had brought their friend up for his first ever mountain. Not even first high peak, but first MOUNTAIN. This guy was hilarious, he was just yelling nonstop about how he couldn’t believe how amazing it was, and making phone calls to presumably ever person he had ever met to tell them he was on top of a mountain. It was really funny to witness, and I had to turn away to stifle my laughter, noticing as I did that several other people were doing the same.

I took my turn at the summit to take a photo of my beat-up feet with the geo marker.

At 2:15, I began my descent and deposited my rock at the pile designated by a small sign on the way down.

The descent was stunning, walking above the treeline to see out to the mountains around me.

Along the way, I joined with another hiker making his descent (shoutout to Fred) and we had a fun time talking, until I fell flat on my ass on my way down a slippery, steep rock slab. Nothing was hurt, besides my dignity (and some scrapes on my hands) and we carried on our way.

Lake Placid towards the upper middle.

Below the treeline, the descent was quite steep and time consuming. I finally reached the junction to Wright Mountain about an hour after leaving the summit, and turned to head straight back up.

“Wright” is written on the rock.

It was only 0.4 miles to the summit, however it was exceptionally steep and I was very nervous about coming back down. Nevertheless, I put one foot in front of the other and was soon above the tree line, once again.

Towards the summit, there was a little sign pointing right towards the summit, and left towards the plaque for the plane wreck. In 1962, a B-47 bomber practicing low-altitude bombing runs over Watertown veered 30 miles off course in inclement weather and high windes, when the wingtip clipped the summit of Wright Mtn. The mountain shattered the plane, scattering the wreckage along the southwest side of the peak. Read more about the accident here.

I popped right up to the summit, where a couple was hanging out shouting Tarzan-like ululations, and we took photos for each other.

Algonquin.

I was on a bit of a tight timeline, wanting to be back at the trailhead at 6pm, so I stayed at the summit for all of 5 minutes before heading down to explore the plane wreck.

Just a few minutes of descent and I was at the plaque with the scraps of debris.

I scampered back up to the peak, and began my descent at 4pm.

Surprisingly, despite seeming so steep on the way up, the climb down really wasn’t that bad, nor did it last very long. After 20 minutes, I was back at the junction to Algonquin. The descent after that point was rather rocky and steep, and I really had to take my time. That stupid song from one of those puppet christmastime cartoons started playing in my head, and it drove me a little bit more insane, the one that goes “put one fooot in front of the other, and soon you’ll be walking out the dooooor”. UGH. Of all things to be in my damn head. Anyway, after an hour of that, I made it to a nice waterfall where another group was hanging out. I took the opportunity to rest my feet and have another snack.

After that point, the trail was significantly easier, finally with some flat dirt path instead of constant rockhopping. For once in my life, I was passing everyone on this trail! I was not the slowest person on the mountain! But really though, this NEVER happens. A few uneventful miles later and I was back at the trailhead, signing out at about 6:20pm, 12hrs 20mins after I began. I headed straight to my car, changed into clean clothes to try to pretend like I didn’t stink as much as I did, and headed home.

This was absolutely my favorite climb, to date. Every single summit had complete 360 degree views, it was a beautiful day, and I felt so accomplished at having taken the tougher route to climb these three. 16 down, 30 to go!

Iroquois Mountain: 4,840 feet

Algonquin Mountain: 5,114 feet

Wright Mountain: 4,580 feet

Boundary Peak: 4,829 feet

Round Trip Distance: 13.4 miles

Total Elevation Gain: 4300′ feet

Total Duration: ~10 Hours of hiking +2 Hours at summits

All images are property of adktrailtalesandtails and may only be used with express permission.

Nippletop(13) and Dial(41) with Bear Den and W. Noonmark Shoulder

07/04/17

I had the day off of work, and decided that the day couldn’t be better spent than by climbing the two peaks that I left out when climbing¬†Colvin and Blake. I left the house at 4am, thinking that the trails might be crowded despite being a Tuesday since it was Independence Day. I enjoyed the sights of dense fog lifting with the sunrise on the drive down.

Barnum Pond

I arrived at the trailhead at St. Huberts just before 6am, put my boots on, and set off toward lake road.

15 minutes later I arrived at the register, signed in, and started my long trek down Lake Rd. I had read mixed reports about whether to climb these mountains clockwise or counterclockwise; many people suggested climbing clockwise, going up Leach trail and coming down Elk Pass because Elk Pass is very steep despite being only 1.5 miles long. However, I would much rather climb up a steep path than down it, and I wanted to do the long lake rd walk early in the hike as a warm up, so I chose to go counterclockwise, anticipating a miserable climb up Elk.

I noticed two signs for “Flume” while I was walking, and decided to check out the latter. Without backtracking all the way, I walked just a few feet along the little spur trail to see some awesome waterfalls.

Usually the walk along lake is boooring, however this time, just as I was cresting a hill, a sweet little spotted fawn came galloping toward me from the other side! She skidded to a stop, as did I, and we stared at each other in shock for a few moments before she bolted into the brook alongside the road, and watched me while floating in a little pool. Hopefully that baby’s momma was close by!

I passed the first sign for Gill Brook, and continued until I saw the second sign for Gill Brook cutoff, while I reached at about 7am, an hour after leaving from the parking lot.

The trail climbed slowly but steadily from this point until reaching the junction with the Gill Brook Trail 20 minutes later.

I went right, up towards Colvin, and ruefully continued straight past the junction for Indian Head a few minutes later. Indian head is amazing, but I’d already been there a month before and wanted to see new things.

The trail climbed pretty steadily on the way up towards Colvin. I hadn’t been bothered by bugs yet, but it was still quite early. I had also expected a ton of mud due to the recent deluge, and though there were muddy areas, none of them were sloppy, boot-slurping mud. After climbing up some rock slabs and stone steps, my stomach started complaining loudly, so I decided to take a short break just before 8am and have a snack.

After a little over a mile of climbing, I reached a decrepit sign at the junction for Elk Pass, Colvin, and Lake Rd at 8:30am. Two of the signs had fallen (presumably recently, because I think they were intact when I was there before), and I spent a moment with a couple of other hikers to ensure we were all going the right way. I headed left from the direction I came to go towards Nippletop.

The trail picked up again, climbing steadily, and I started hearing sounds that seemed out of place for a mountain trail….Frogs. It didn’t make any sense to me, and definitely made me pause for a moment or two in confusion, until the trail took a downward turn and I found myself on a muddy, overgrown little path through a bog. I excitedly took a little spur in the trail to view the bog, and the lumber supplies that hopefully mean a bridge will be built in the future.

It was so beautiful here. After a very quiet morning, the birds were waking up and the frogs were certainly lively. More than once while walking I stepped in what I thought was shallow mud and nearly left my boot behind in foot-deep muck. I’d laugh to myself, remove my foot, and immediately do it again. I was pleasantly surprised moments later to see another small pond, on the right this time, and took the opportunity for a short break.

At this point, the trail was almost lower than the level of the ponds, and boy did it show. The mud was ridiculous, and much more along the lines of what I had expected. I passed through the absolutely worst of it by balancing precariously on a sodden, broken log, and made it to dry land. THEN I took out my pole to help with any future mud. Better late than never!

I had reached a nice dry clearing with views of another small pond, which I later saw was a campsite, and then headed up the trail again.

This is when the real ascent up Elk Pass starts. Honestly, I wasn’t even really convinced I was on Elk Pass until I was almost to the summit of Nippletop because it was so much easier than everyone made it seem. I was expecting some beast with giant rock slabs and slick slides all the way up. While it was indeed steep and constant, it wasn’t at all technically difficult. For reference, I always carry my camera around my neck while hiking and put it away during difficult sections; I never even had to put it away during this entire hike.

The grade was certainly tiring, and I made myself stop for 5 minute breaks every hour (which really helped with muscle fatigue), but it was made so much better by the views I had almost every time I turned around.

While it wasn’t technically difficult, this trail seemed to go on FOREVER. Finally, at about 10:15am, I reached the crest in the ridge and the junction for Nippletop and Dial, and headed right.

20 minutes later and I was standing next to a big rock, asking a man standing nearby “Is this it?” It was indeed! Climbing out onto the rocks, I was blown away by the views of the Dix range.

I hung out at the top for about an hour, chatting with a few different people (shoutout to Doug from Delaware, the surgeon!–I’m trying really, really hard lately to remember things about people…like their names.) and enjoying my lunch and victory chocolate.

I took a photo for a pair of ladies, they returned the favor, and I convinced them to do the loop down elk pass to visit Indian Head. Seriously, the views from Indian Head are some of the best around.

Elk Lake just visible to the South (left)

Finally, at around 11:30, I decided I had to make the move to head towards Dial. Bugs had started to show their ugly stupid faces with the warming sun and mud, flies and sandflies and mosquitos and all, but they weren’t really a nuisance while I was moving, so off I went. I passed the junction with Elk Pass and marveled at the view of Giant Mtn to the NE.

Everyone I had previously spoken to had said that the trail was all downhill after leaving Nippletop heading toward Dial, Bear Den, and back to Lake Rd. This was totally not true, and I had gotten pretty frustrated at having expected it to be so much easier. It was more like, down then up, then down then up to Dial, then down then up to Bear Den, then down then up to Noonmark Shoulder, then down….Anyway, I passed several people travelling the other way while heading to Dial, and asked every one of them if I had accidentally passed over Dial without realizing it…I just kept going downhill, I thought for sure I had missed it!

Along the way, I spied a little spur trail off to the right just before noon, so of course I took it and found some beautiful views from a large boulder!

Finally, 2.1 miles and about an hour after leaving the summit of Nippletop, I reached the summit of Dial Mountain. For some reason, I was expecting the summit to have no views, however I was thrilled to see a huge boulder outcropping.

I hopped right up, and eagerly sat down to enjoy an apple, and snapped a few photos.

Unfortunately, within 5 minutes of being up there, I was SWARMED by sandflies! These things are awful! Despite having a cap coated in permethrin and being covered head to toe in deet, these things just did not care. One after another I was swatting them off of my hands, my neck, my face, and even from up under my cap. At one point, I took the deet out of my pack and literally sprayed it into the swarm, and they gave me one of these:

So I packed my stuff up and courageously ran like hell off of the summit, without even having my apple snack. After a hundred feet or so I slowed back down and lamented my short stay on the summit. The trail immediately went downhill for about a mile before climbing again up to the summit of Bear Den (1:30pm). There weren’t any views from Bear Den that I could see, and I didn’t even realize I had reached the summit until I saw the sign at Noonmark saying I had already passed Bear Den.

After a half mile descent from Bear Den, The trail again began climbing. While somewhat demoralizing to be climbing again (my knees were hurting from all of the ‘down’, and going up only means climbing right back down, and then some), the trail up to the W shoulder of Noonmark Mtn was stunning. A fire had ravaged the area in 1999, creating now-beautiful views from the summit of the shoulder and a unique young forest full of birch and aspen trees, with white bark and bright green leaves.

I climbed the slab up to the shoulder and plopped my butt down. The views were AMAAAAAZING. I wanted to sit there for so much longer than I did, but alas, bugs. Writing this the day after the hike, I have a number of itchy bites, where mosquitos had bitten THROUGH MY DEET-SOAKED PANTS. What even are these things?! How do I prevent this?! Grenades?! Ugh.

After only a few minutes respite, I continued on up and over the shoulder and again headed downhill through the beautiful forest and some mud.

From here on out the trail was much easier. There was less mud and the decline was less rocky. At some point I passed this beautiful little mushroom, still somehow intact despite residing in the middle of the trail.

A mile and a half later I was back on Lake Rd, and at the parking lot at about 3:45pm, about 9hrs and 45 minutes after leaving.

I learned some valuable information on this trip:
1. Adirondack bugs don’t give a hoot whether you’re wearing deet or permethrin. If they’re hungry, you’re lunch.
2. Elk Pass wasn’t bad at all, and I would recommend any and everyone go up Elk and down Leach, for several reasons. First, you get the long walk down lake road out of the way early on, and it serves as a nice warm-up before any climbing. Second, you reach Nippletop for some awesome views faster than you would if coming from the Leach Trail. Third, it’s easier to climb up steep, slippery rocks than to climb down them.
3. The Fourth of July isn’t a crazy busy hiking day when it’s during the week (except maybe on a Monday or Friday). I only saw a handful of people all day. Good to know!

13 down, 33 to go! Happy Trails!

Nippletop Mountain: 4620′

Dial Mountain: 4020′

Bear Den: 3399′

Total Duration: 8.5 hours of hiking + 1.25 hours at summits

Round Trip Distance: ~14 miles

All images are property of adktrailtalesandtails and may only be used with express permission.

Colvin (39) and Blake (42) with Indian Head and Fish Hawk Cliffs

6/3/2017

Weather reports for this day had been spotty all week, with everything ranging from sun to clouds to rain to snow, but I had been set on hiking no matter what, and at least if weather wasn’t great, then the trails shouldn’t be very crowded. I got up at 4am, checked the weather again, and it looked promising! So I hopped in my car and headed to the St. Huberts parking lot off of Rt. 73 (technically on Ausable Club Rd.). I arrived at around 7am, the lot was already around half-full, and headed up the road alongside a very difficult looking golf course.

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Ausable Club

I met and chatted with a friendly couple from Ottawa along the way, and 10 minutes later I signed in at the register by the gate with a pep in my step.

Surprisingly, there were no bugs out yet, but I fully expected o be swarmed later in the day. At any rate, the walk along Lake Rd was a nice warm up before starting any climbing, and it follows a scenic brook along the way.

My initial plan for the day was to hit Indian Head first, because people are always talking about how amazing it is and I wanted to see what all the fuss was about, then to hit Fish Hawk Cliffs, Colvin, Nippletop, then Dial, and I wanted to follow Gil Brook on the way up. So when I saw the first sign for Gil Brook, I followed that trail.

I absolutely have to recommend this trail to anyone and everyone looking to hike in this region, and I recommend going up it instead of down, because you can see all of the waterfalls as you come up to them. I spent soooo much time putzing around by the brook, but it was only 8am and I wanted to get to know my new camera (a mirrorless Sony a6000, much smaller and lighter than my big Canon, which was also in my pack of course)!

If at any point along a trail you encounter a sign with two arrows, one for an “easy” route and one for a “Scenic” route, take the scenic route!

There were two such signs along the path, and boy were they worth it. It wasn’t even a difficult traverse, and the waterfalls were stunning. What is it about waterfalls that makes me want to be standing under them?

Shortly after the last waterfall, I came upon a junction for Colvin/Indian Head/Elk Pass, and as I paused to snap a photo, another hiker approached from the trail I had just been on. We stopped to talk for a minute, and he suggested that I absolutely do not want to orphan out Blake Mountain, since the way to get to it is generally by climbing Colvin first. ¬†So if I didn’t do it today, I’d have to come back and climb Colvin again to get it. So I said, Ok, this hike is getting really ambitious, but sure, I’ll add Blake to the list! He continued on, and I admired the Gil Brook for a moment more before continuing on.

About two minutes later, at 9am, I encountered the same hiker (shoutout to Josh) at another Junction sign. He was debating whether to climb Indian Head, but was hesitant because he hadn’t told anyone he would be going there. I said I was planning to climb it too, so together we set off up the path to Indian Head.

30 minutes later we arrived at the summit and our minds were blown. Honestly, I could have stayed there all day, it was so incredible. But, alas, I’m an aspiring 46er and didn’t want to miss the chance to bag some high peaks.

We stayed up there for almost 30 minutes enjoying the views and trying to figure out which mountains were around us. It was really nice having someone to hike with; not only did I have someone to talk to besides myself (I’d already caught myself mumbling to myself a few times that day,¬†which was mildly concerning), but I had someone to take my picture! I had taken my tripod out of my pack that morning, so I wasn’t really planning on being in any photos.

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The peaks behind me are Colvin and Blake

Having enjoyed our fill of the beautiful landscape, we next set off for Fish Hawk Cliffs, and arrived there 15 minutes later at 10:15am. NOW I KNOW WHY IT’S CALLED INDIAN HEAD! I was really wondering about that on the climb up, and it¬†was so freaking cool to see Indian Head from another angle.

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Indian Head, in the center

We didn’t linger long there, and began our descent down to the col between Colvin and Indian Head. Now, as I’ve mentioned before, I am SLOW when hiking steep terrain. I have very weak joints, and landing wrong could collapse my knees, so I go very slowly, using my arms a lot to lower myself down to avoid any injuries. My new hiking buddy, however, was much faster, so I encouraged him to go on at his own pace so I wouldn’t slow him down and, at some point along the way to Colvin, he did. This was fine with me, because now I could go exactly as slowly a I needed without feeling rushed. After reaching the col, the climb back up Colvin was a bit tricky and just never seemed to end. It was getting pretty muddy and slick, and more than once as I walked through a muddy patch I felt my boot sink in and schlurrrp as I pulled it back out. At least there were still, somehow, no bugs! At some point I started hearing people talking, and finally, 2 hours after leaving Fish Hawk Cliffs and about 5 hours from the trailhead, I made it to the summit!

The summit was a glorified rock with about 6 people already hanging out at the top. My hiking buddy and I reunited, and I immediately sat my butt down and ate food. And then ate some more food. And then a little more. I was really hungry, guys.

The summit was very windy, and it was about 52¬įF, which is probably why bugs weren’t an issue all day. While the views from the summit certainly weren’t 360¬į, it was incredible to be right in the middle of the Adirondacks and so close to the other high peaks.

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Looking back toward Indian Head
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Mt Marcy behind me, with snow still towards the summit

This was my 10th high peak, so I’m officially in double digits! Talking with the other people at the summit, it seemed the overall consensus was that Blake Mountain SUCKS. It’s a steep climb down from Colvin, and a steep climb ¬†up to Blake, which has no views and isn’t even 4000ft, then back down Blake and up Colvin again. Now, on the climb up to Colvin, I had had my cap on and was looking down and completely missed BOTH junction signs just before the summit. Yikes. We left the summit at about 12:40pm and headed down towards Blake.

The descent didn’t start out too bad, albeit expectedly muddy, and 20 minutes later I had the first glimpse of Blake. Boy was that a demoralizing sight.

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Blake Mtn

As we headed down, things got STEEP. The mud made things very tricky and slick, and it was a bit intimidating. Luckily there were a few ladders to help with the worst spots.

Both of us decided to descend next to the ladder rather than actually using the rungs due to how steep and widely spaced the rungs were. Now, being the graceful moose that I am, I lost traction part of the way down, and slid down on my butt. On the way, my hiking pole got caught under my pack, which jammed the pole about a foot into the mud at the bottom of the slope. I had to laugh at myself, as Josh asked me “Is your pole stuck in the mud?” and I replied, “Sure is!”. I unearthed it, and we continued on down to the col.

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The hole from my pole, circled in red

As I’m writing this, I’m surprised because it felt like that descent took forever, but was apparently only 35 minutes. At 1:15pm, we reached the col between the mountains.

My hiking buddy went on ahead during the ascent up Blake, and another hiker or two passed me as well, looking tired and covered in mud, but still in good spirits. Everyone I met this day had been absolutely awesome, and I stopped to talk with many of them. I even met a group of students from my university coming down Blake, one of whom I’d actually taught before! Even though Blake is kind of a really awful mountain, the people I met along the way more than¬†made up for it, probably because the only people who would be out there are people who just love hiking, like me. No matter how tough the hike, everyone is willing to meet one another and lend a hand.

As this climb was dragging on, I saw a man who had passed me earlier was now coming back down. When I asked him if the summit was anywhere close, I heard Josh yell up ahead “It’s right here! Keep going!” so with a last burst of energy, I scrambled up to the summit at 2:15pm, which was noted with a small pile of rocks and no view. Time from Colvin: 1.5hrs. Time from trailhead: 7hr 15min.

We both had some snacks and victory chocolate, and I gratefully let my heavy pack fall off of my shoulders.

While we were up there, another gentleman reached the summit with us, and the first word out of his mouth was an exasperated “F**k!”. We burst out laughing; that one expression completely summed up the hike to Blake. The three of us sat together for some time chatting and dreading the trip back to Colvin.

Nevertheless, at 2:45 we headed back the way we came. I was moving so incredibly slowly sown the steep, muddy rocky slopes, and was soon left behind by my hiking buddy, which was again fine with me. At least if I fell on my rear no one would be there to see it! Surprisingly, despite my lack of grace, I never did fall. I was so incredibly relieved when I made it back to the col to Colvin, because the worst of the descents for the whole trip were over. I made my way back up Colvin, and again the climb never seemed to end. Every time I though I must be close, it just kept going.

I sat once again upon the summit of Colvin at 3:50pm, alone this time, and enjoyed the most delicious fruit cup I’ve ever eaten in my life. At 4pm, I left my perch, now drained of any ambition to climb Nippletop and Dial. It was getting windier and the clouds were more forboding, and I didn’t want to be on a summit in the rain. As I headed down, I met another group of really fun people heading up for Colvin and Blake, and encouraged them to keep going because the summit was literally 2 minutes away. We talked for a few minutes, then parted ways. Climbing down from Colvin was tougher than I had anticipated, with lots of slick muddy rocks, steep descents, and rock hopping, and my knees soon started to ache and feel weak. I finally reached the junction after an hour of very careful descent.

The going was much easier after the junction, and I sped right along the Gil Brook trail, bypassing the scenic overlooks that I’d already seen. I made it back to Lake Rd at about 6pm. I hadn’t used a restroom since 7am, and the rushing water of Gil Brook alongside the road was not helping my bladder situation, so I really picked up my pace to make it back to the parking lot! Along the way, I rescued a small bright orange salamander from the middle of the road and chatted with a nice fellow from Montreal (shoutout to Maxim) while we walked back to the gate. I signed out, then practically ran back to the parking lot. I made it there at about 7pm, after 12 hours of hiking, and was SO HAPPY that I had a change of clothes, socks, and shoes waiting for me in the car.

I drove the two hours back home all with a stunning sunset in front of me. 11 down, 35 more to go! You’re next, Dial and Nippletop.

Colvin Mountain: 4057′

Blake Mountain: 3960′

Indian Head: 2700′

Fish Hawk Cliffs: 2600′

Total Duration: ~12 Hours

Round Trip Distance: ~15 miles

All images are property of adktrailtalesandtails and may only be used with express permission.

Gear and Tips

Hiking solo is one of the greatest joys I’ve experienced¬†in my adult life. You learn a lot about yourself when it’s just you and your own two feet conquering a mountain. There are feelings of wonder, peace, and pride at having accomplished something so great on your own. That said, hiking solo isn’t something that I take lightly. I strive to be Prepared, Informed, Strong, and Smart for every single trek, no matter how small. I research the trail location, plan my route, plan for backup routes, check the weather, and check the trail conditions all the day of the expedition. Here’s how it all starts:

Pre-Hiking Prep:

  • Clean and waterproof boots (once per year). I use Camp Dry Water Repellent Spray found here.
  • I wear a baseball cap during buggy months which I coat in Permethrin (once a year) to protect against flies, mosquitos, and ticks. Find it here.¬†
  • Check trail conditions and weather, inform a friend of mountain name, trailhead location, intended route, estimated time of arrival and estimated time of departure.

What to Wear:

  • Here’s my typical outfit, from bottom to top, for warmer months (spring to fall):
    • Gel Toe Protectors¬†to go on my toes to prevent blisters and calluses. These are THE BEST THING ever. Buy them.
    • Sock Liners to help prevent blisters (I also apply blister bandages to problem areas before I leave)
    • Wool Socks (and I keep a spare pair in my pack)
    • Shorts or Running Pants, or Water Resistant pants, depending on the weather.
    • Synthetic Fiber T-shirt or tank
    • Lightweight running jacket¬†-> I love this, it keeps me cool when it’s warm out, and warm when it’s cool out.
    • Waterproof Windbreaker¬†-> This is absolutely essential. I keep it in my pack at all times. You never know when it might rain, and the summit is usually much cooler than ground ¬†level, not to mention much windier. I’ve gotten chilled even on hot days from the wind hitting my sweaty back, and this has been a lifesaver.
    • Baseball cap for when bugs are out
    • TIP: Avoid wearing ANY cotton while hiking, during any time of the year. Opt for wools and synthetics to help wick moisture away from your skin to keep you dry and prevent blisters.
  • This changes a bit in winter:
    • Socks stay the same
    • I wear Thermal¬†longjohns underneath my Spyder ski pants to keep me warm and dry
    • Thermal longsleeve shirt
    • Lightweight jacket/hoodie
    • Spyder ski jacket
    • Fleece Cowl¬†-> I love this thing, it keeps everything warm, from neck to ears to chin to mouth/nose, and head.
    • Glove Liners¬†-> These are awesome to wear just on their own or under mittens and have fingertips that allow you to use touch screens
    • Mittens¬†-> I clip these to my coat sleeves to remove them easily without losing them

In my Pack:

  • Here’s a list of things I typically keep in my pack during the warmer months:
  • My Pack¬†¬†carries up to 50L, and while I do like it, I’m considering getting a slightly larger one to accomodate all of my gear. Though I LOVE hiking alone, one of the drawbacks is that I have to carry all of my emergency gear myself, instead of spreading it out across multiple packs. This pack also has a rain fly that you can remove and cover it with to protect the contents.
    • A 3L Camelback¬†¬†+ 1 bottle of water -> Mostly for longer trips/hotter weather. This way, when the camelbak runs dry, I still have 1 bottle left while I search for more water.
    • The day of the hike, I pack my food, and always pack more than I think I’ll need.
    • An extra pair of wool socks and liners
    • Carmex chapstick, hand sanitizer, and tissues
    • Deet Wipes¬†that I use to cover all of my clothes, bare skin, and even my pack. I like the wipes because I’m not inhaling the aerosolized vapors, and I put the used wipes in the mesh pockets of my pack to help keep bugs away. Reapply every couple of hours.
    • Bear Spray¬†for obvious reasons
      • Learn about bear safety HERE
    • Gaitors¬†to keep my legs dry in rain or muddy conditions, or when walking through a stream
    • A Headlamp + extra batteries for those early morning starts or in case of emergency
    • Trailbook and Map for the regions I explore
    • Hiking Poles¬†-> These are decent and retract down to a small size, however be careful that they’re tightened properly before putting weight on them.
    • Water Purifiers -> I carry both Iodine drops and a Life Straw with me
    • I carry This first aid kit + an Ace Bandage + a knee and an ankle brace
    • Stormproof Matches
    • Emergency Kit -> including :
      • Whistle flashlight * 1
      • Multifunction calipers * 1
      • Mosquito Head Net * 1
      • Hand see-saw * 1
      • Flint bracelet * 1
      • Risers * 1 (10M)
      • Fast hang buckle * 2
      • Outdoor emergency blanket * 1
      • Earplug * 1
      • Hooks * 2
      • Fishing line * 1 (33M)
      • Bait * 2
      • Swivels * 2
      • Floats * 6
      • Compass Thermometer * 1
    • I also carry an additional emergency blanket, several large, medium, and small carbiner clips, a Swiss Army multitool, a Tactical Knife, Sunscreen, extra blister bandages, Ibuprofen, Tick-repellent bug spray, a large ziplock bag (which can be used in a variety of circumstances, including keeping my camera dry) in which I keep a roll of TP, a plastic grocery bag, a brick of super high energy emergency food (lasts for like 6 days), an external battery supply charger for my phone, and a waterproof container.
    • From late fall through early spring, I keep a pair of HIGH QUALITY Microspikes carbined to the back of my pack, because you literally never know when there might be ice (see Whiteface Mountain, where a lousy pair of spikes broke halfway up the mountain)

I pretty much draw the line for hiking solo at WINTER. It’s too dangerous with too many unknowns, and I mostly only partake in small ventures during these months. Plus I just really, really hate winter. However, during those small ventures, in addition to everything listed above (expect for the bug and bear sprays and sunscreen), I carry snow shoes, a face cover, ski goggles, packs of hand warmers, a beanie, and a thermos full of hot chocolate or tea. but usually I prefer to go snowboarding instead ūüôā

  • Extra Stuff (Camera Supplies)
    • My camera is a Sony Alpha 6000
    • A Lowepro shoulder bag that I carry my camera in outside of my pack
    • A sturdy, reliable tripod that collapses to fit in my pack (barely)
    • A wide angle lens
    • Lens filters, cleaning Q-tips, cleaning cloth, spare battery, spare memory cards

I think that’s about it, though I’m certain I’ve forgotten some things. Now you know why I complain about my pack being so heavy! If you’re still reading this, I hope this helps you plan your own adventures! Any questions, feel free to ask. Happy Trails!

Whiteface Mtn. (5), Esther Mtn. (28), and Marble Mtn.

11/01/2016

It had been nearly 2 MONTHS since I’d last climbed a 46er, and I’d been thinking for a while that I was long overdue, however every weekend that I’d planned to climb these mountains, the skies decided to open up! So I said, I’ll show them (…the skies, I guess), I’ll go on a Tuesday! So after a sleepless Halloween night, I got up at 4:30am to head down to Wilmington. There were a couple of trails to choose from, but I decided to choose the less-traveled one that’s a mile shorter just to try to avoid still being on the trail when darkness falls considering that I had planned to climb Marble, Esther, and Whiteface Mountains all in one day. The trail I was aiming for started at the Atmospheric Science Research Center (ASRC). I had never been there before, so when I arrived a little before 7am (still in the dark) I was a bit concerned, because the trail was not obvious. So I parked in the big parking lot in front of the ASRC and proceeded to wander aimlessly for about 30 minutes, sometimes stumbling up a trail-that’s-not-a-trail before getting lost and deciding that could not possibly be the right way. Just as the sun started to illuminate the parking lot, I stomped frustratedly back to my car to regroup. Should I drive to the more well-known trail? Surely I wouldn’t get there until at least 8am, and it’d be an extra 2 miles of hiking. I’d definitely be coming home in the dark if I go that way. What are my other options? Just go home? Just then–I looked up and saw that early morning light had illuminated a previously invisible, MINISCULE sign that said “Hikers <–“. OMG. I started the engine, drove literally a minute more around the loop, and there was a little parking area on the side of the road, and a trail leading off of it. So without further ado, I started hiking at around 7:30am.

The trail quickly descended down where it joined up with another much wider trail; I turned left here, and kept going.

Shortly afterward, another trail branched off to the left. I continued on the wide path, hoping it was the right way, but not super confident considering the way my morning had gone so far.

A few minutes later I was almost sure I was again on the wrong path, because I came across this big metal cube of machinery, but when I went to investigate, the trail did indeed continue onward; sure enough, a trail sign appeared!

This is where that actual trail began! Huzzah! There was no register or anything, but I continued straight up the path where the climbing began. It then occurred to me that the machinery at the bottom was from an old ski lift up the mountain; this trail just followed the ski lift straight up. It was actually really cool to be able to look back and see exactly where I had started, because it was a straight shot.

At this point, my earlier frustration was just a distant memory; I was so happy and zen-like out there, enjoying the crisp air, the morning’s first light reddening the mountains, and the exhilaration of the climb. I was in such a good mood, that I nearly considered climbing inside this squat little structure I discovered on the way up, before I decided that I absolutely did not want to do that.

45 minutes after leaving the roadside, I alighted upon the top of marble mountain, where I encountered the twin to the cube machine at the bottom of the slope.

I rested here for a couple of minutes enjoying the early light, but when I started to shiver I decided it would be best to move on and warm up.

Almost as soon as I left the summit, I met the junction with the other trail that led up Marble Mtn., and took the right path to carry on up the ridge.

The trail was a lot snowier up here out of the light of the sun, but I was reassured knowing that my microspikes (crampons…whatever) were tucked in my pack, ready when I needed them. Boy was that false hope. (More on that later).

As I climbed, I was lucky enough to catch some glimpses of the mountains through the trees, and what a sight they were.

The trail was a total and complete mess. Some areas were running water, some were solid ice, some were a miserable mix of both. If nothing else, it made for some interesting structures along the way.

Oh, joy! I’ve found another creepy little sled hut, and look! This one comes complete with a moth-eaten burlap blanket too! How cozy :/. Let’s just hope I won’t have to use it, and will be back well before dark.

After climbing up this ridge for almost an hour and a half, it finally flattened out, and I knew I must be close to the junction for Esther.

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Whiteface mtn in the distance

Not 10 minutes later I had arrived at the giant, obvious cairn and the sign for the
herd path up Esther Mountain. I had put my microspikes on at some point climbing up the ridge when it became particularly icy, and they were giving me a bit of a hard time by not staying square on my feet; the left one kept slipping off the side, and I had to adjust it constantly. It wasn’t too bothersome though, I was definitely better off with than without, anyway. So off I went, down the trail to Esther. Along the way, I captured a glimpse of a verrrry far away mountain, and hoped with all I had that it was not Esther. After viewing the same mountain occasionally becoming ever-so-slightly closer, however, I determined I was indeed climbing Esther. To make it better, this herd path was horrible. Ice was covering almost all of it, only it wasn’t even thick enough to hold my weight; I kept punching through, splashing into muddy mucky disgusting water every other step. To make things even better, my brand-new microspikes were not doing so great; the left one continued to slip, and one of the bands on the right foot had snapped completely, leaving it unbalanced and threatening to slip off of my foot. I decided to just keep an eye on it, because I really had no other option. So the going was quite slow, but eventually I made it to the summit of Esther, an hour after leaving the junction.

Apparently this mountain was named for the 15 year old girl who first summitted it. Woah! I’ll settle just for climbing a mountain, not discovering one. I cleared a little patch of rock to have a seat and take a sip of some piping-hot hot chocolate, which I was SO glad for prioritizing at 4:30am.

I didn’t stay long, however, because when I looked up and saw the tower of Whiteface like 4.2 lightyears away, I knew I needed to get moving or I wouldn’t get back to the car until 3pm tomorrow.

This is when the poop really hit the fan for me. The heckin lousy microspikes. During the hour it took me to return to the junction on the ridge, the other strap on the right one broke, so the set of spikes under the front of my right foot kept slipping and popping up over the top of my boot, often stabbing my other leg when it happened. To make matters worse, both straps on the left one also broke during that hour. I was so frustrated and angry at this point, I very nearly chucked both of them off of the mountain, good riddance, but decided to strap them onto my pack in case of emergency, or to burn maliciously later, or whatever. I resolutely took both poles out of my pack, and very carefully made my way up Whiteface. Wow, it looked soooo far away, and TALL. At one point, I reached a really cool clearing that must have been an old ski slope or something, and it was nicely shielded from the wind, so I decided to have a seat on a convenient boulder and have some lunch.

Who can argue with that view? I didn’t stay long (didn’t want to wait for the cold to seep in) and 20 minutes later at about 1pm I reached the giant wall signifying the base of the wall bordering the Whiteface Memorial Highway! I must be close!

I took about 40 pictures of the dang wall, all of which look almost exactly the same, then climbed some slippery rocks up to the road itself.

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Ski lift!

I knew the trail would come to the road, but I wasn’t exactly sure where it would pick back up. I decided to explore the road a little bit, which overlooked some incredible scenery. That said, I wouldn’t want to drive up or down this road, EVER. I’m saying, even in the summer. Nope.

Looking up the road toward the observatory, I decided that the trail must’ve continued up this impossible-to-climb cliff, covered in ice, that I saw when I first climbed up to the road. So for future reference: you never actually walk along the road. I didn’t think any of the buildings were open up ahead, so the only way up would be the precarious trail. Just dandy.

I climbed up very carefully, and at about that point realized that there was NO WAY that I would make it back down the whole mountain without my microspikes. Even the slightest decline can be extremely difficult when icy. I was a bit nervous, but decided to worry about it more after I had reached the summit, because there was no way I was turning back now.

The trail continued along this really cool ridge all the way up to the summit. It would have been even cooler if I was afraid of being blown right off the edge by the omnipresent gusts of wind.

But oh myyyy the views were spectacular! I’ve never seen anything quite like this.

FINALLY, at about 1:30pm, I reached the deserted summit. Not a soul in sight, which was a little creepy, I must admit, but it didn’t bother me much.

I stayed up here for all of 5 minutes. Seriously. It was cold, and it was soooo much later than I had anticipated arriving (stupid microspikes!). So I took a few last pictures, and turned back. Unfortunately for me, the road was closed past that point, so I had to go back the treacherous way I had come up, until the trail met the road again.

And this is where the photos end. I had some very tricky decisions to make at this point. Do I go back down the mountain the way I came up, risking falling on the ice (or worse) with no one around to help for miles and miles, risking returning in the dark (even though I have a headlamp, I’d prefer to not have to use it)? Or do I take the Whiteface Memorial Highway back down, risking the road being immensely long, or not ending up near where my car was parked? In the end, I went with my gut, which was telling me something bad would happen if I took the trail back. I also figured that, if nothing else, the road could lead me to people who would hopefully help me, if need be. So down the road I went, and I didn’t turn back. Though the views were sublime, I was so focused on getting home that I didn’t even think to take out my camera. After an hour of walking, I was getting really nervous, because I didn’t seem to be getting anywhere. I still seemed to be really high up in the mountains, nowhere near the elevation at which I’d parked my car, and there was not a soul in sight. I realized now that the road was definitely closed at the bottom, and reasonably so, but I was afraid the road was 15 or 20 miles long. So at this point I just started running, my heavy pack slamming down onto my shoulders with each step. Soon after, I saw a sign indication the downward slope would continue for another 5 miles. I was simultaneously overjoyed and devastated: the road wasn’t 20 more miles, but I still had 5 miles to go and my whole body was hurting. I decided I had no choice but to continue on; my phone was dead (of course) and the road would EVENTUALLY lead somewhere, hopefully somewhere close to my car, and not on the wrong side of the mountain. I steeled my resolve, and kept running. And running. And running. Then, up ahead, a toll booth!! Are there people in there? Either way, I must be getting close to somewhere. There were no people inside, but when I passed the booth, I looked to my left and had to do a double-take: a LAKE. Somehow, I had reached a low enough elevation for there to be a gorgeous little lake; on top of that, I heard cars nearby! I slowed to a walk, and came to an intersection. Another tough decision: do I turn down the new road, or do I keep going? I had studied maps of the Adirondack region quite a bit, and reasoned that I should stay on the Memorial Hwy. Less than a mile later, I came across a sign, which I read about 6 times just to be sure and not get my hopes up: Marble Mtn. Road, ASRC. I jumped and danced and cheered and ran (read: limped) down the road to where my beautiful gorgeous little blueberry-mobile sat waiting for me (it’s a bright blue subaru…we call it the blueberry, naturally.). I was so grateful to be so lucky, and I peeled out of there to head home. Finishing time: ~4pm. Hey, I beat the sunset!

Whiteface Mountain: 4867′

Esther Mountain: 4240′

Marble Mountain:2753′

Total Duration: ~8.5 Hours

Round Trip Distance: I have no idea…fitbit says 17.5 miles, but that can’t be right….maybe 10-11 miles?

All images are property of adktrailtalesandtails and may only be used with express permission.

Giant Mountain (12) and Rocky Peak Ridge (20)

09/10/2016

I woke up bright (er…dark) and early and got out of the house by 4:30am to do this hike. My parents were due to visit from Ohio sometime in the evening, and there was a possibility of rain (and even thunderstorms) in the early afternoon, so I thought I’d get this done quick and easy, the earlier the better. So I arrived at the trailhead on 73 for the Roaring Brook Trail, signed in at the register, and set off by 6:45am.

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I call this my ‘Up at 4am’ look

Immediately after leaving the register, I got a view of the so-called “Roaring Brook”….Not a single drop of water. This was really depressing, because the reason I wanted to use this trail was to visit the top and bottom of roaring brook falls, and it wasn’t looking like much would be going on.

Two minutes after leaving the register I came to a junction, and went right to see the bottom of the falls. I wasn’t expecting much, but I could definitely see how this would be an incredible sight with a lot of water. Guess I have to come back in May!

The walk through the forest was uneventful but pretty. It was still dark in the woods with the sun so low, and I passed a few campers still asleep in their tents. After the short walk back to the junction sign, I started the climb up the trail, which was relentless but not technically difficult. After 10 or 15 minutes, I came to another junction sign for a spur trail to the top of the falls. I though, what the heck, it’s right there so I might as well go see it even if there’s almost no water.

HOLY COW was it worth it! This was the COOLEST place! There were places for camping right nearby, and I could climb out into the brook on rocks and see the mountains in the distance. I stayed here for longer than I should have, enjoying the crystal clear waters and indescribable view.

Standing at the tippy-top

Is that the mountain I’m climbing?

The trail leveled out a little bit after the top of the falls, and after about a mile I came to the junction leading to Giant’s Washbowl on the right, and Giant Mtn on the left. I went left, with the intent of descending via the other trail and meeting up with this trail again at that junction.

The going was easy for a little bit after this point, with the trail crossing the brook once or twice more.

Then the real climbing started. And it did not let up. It was some serious climbing, but the path was relatively easy, increasing in scrambli-ness the further up I went. I encountered a few wearied backpackers descending the mountain at this point, but that was it. About 2.5 hours after I left the trailhead, I was excited to find some built-in stairs, which in my mind meant that the summit was near…false hope! It was not!

At this point, the trail increased in difficulty. I was much steeper and not as easily navigable, so the going was slow.

Not 10 minutes after climbing the ladder, I arrived at the junction sign for Ridge Trail, which leads back to Giant’s Washbowl, and the sign saying ‘Giant Mtn: 0.7 Miles’. Woohoo! 0.7 Miles! That should take me less than 30 minutes!…There was a lot of false hope on this trip.

The climbing picked up immediately after that sign, with lots of scrambling and slides, until I came to this amazing ridge. I could see the mountains around me looking both left and right through the trees, and I could see the looming shadow of Giant up ahead, and boy, it did not look close.

The ridge led to the base of Giant, and the climbing was very very steep and difficult, often straight up slides. Towards the top, I passed a junction sign for Rocky Ridge Peak, saying the peak of Giant was 0.3 miles away. Finally, after 3.2 hours of hiking, I reached the wiiiindy summit.

The views were stunning, but I could only stand to be on the very top for a few minutes at a time. My thermometer read 62 F, and it was incredibly windy. I was wearing long trail pants and a running jacket, and still needed to put on my windbreaker. I was so glad that I had it on hand! I climbed down a little bit to take shelter from the wind, and enjoyed my midmorning snack. After resting my feet and warming up some, I ventured back up to the summit to take a picture with the summit plaque.

I didn’t stay long up here; it was cold and windy and I wanted to head over to my second peak. So I headed back down to the junction, and turned left at the sign.

Shortly after descending a few feet along this trail, I encountered an older gentleman enjoying the view from a rocky outcropping. We chatted about how far down we have to go before climbing back up rocky peak, then he let me pass him and I carried on.

He was not kidding when he said this trail would make us work. The trail was only 1.2 miles long, but it was just straight down. It was so very demoralizing, and all I was thinking was how I’d have to come right back up on the way back up Giant, and how there was no way I’d make it back to the trailhead by 2pm. Nevertheless, I carried on, and while I stopped to take a picture of Rocky Peak Ridge looming in the distance, the gentleman (named Tim) passed me right up. Did I mention I’m incredibly slow climbing down?

After what felt like losing 1000ft, I reached the col, and snapped a photo of RPR standing in front of me. The climb up was so much easier, it was relatively gradual and I made it in about 20 minutes from the Col, passing Tim along the way.

An hour after leaving the junction, I made it to the summit at 11:30am. I told myself I could enjoy the views until noon, the I had to be back at the junction by 1pm. I quickly walked over what was clearly the highest point of the bare summit to get to a slightly lower portion of the ridge that was less windy so I could enjoy my lunch and victory chocolate.

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I was here for several minutes before Tim rejoined me, and an entire troupe of tired-looking young backpackers filed up the mountain shortly after. The didn’t stick around though, and neither did Tim, so I had the mountain to myself. I was getting a little bit nervous, however, because it was getting even windier, to the point that it nearly knocked me over, and dark grey clouds were rolling in. So I went back up to the true summit to take a few last pictures and headed back down to the col.

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A cairn, and Giant Mtn

Along the way, I passed the large group resting along the trail, and learned they were an outing club at a nearby college. I got back to the col, and started the exhausting climb back up Giant. Actually, it was a lot worse coming down this part than it was going up. I flew right up it in about 20 minutes, passed Tim again, and took a few minutes break back at the junction since I made it before 1pm.

I enjoyed my last view, then headed as fast as I could back down the mountain. It was getting increasingly dark and windy, and I was sure the skies would open up before I made it to the bottom, so I decided to forgo my side trip to Washbowl and go back the way I came up. The trip down was absolutely uneventful though. I kept pace with a few groups as we leapfrogged each other, and my knees were killing me. I didn’t take many pictures on the way down, just a few of some pretty little berries and flowers growing alongside the trail.

As I neared the bottom, light rain started trickling through the leaves above me, but nothing serious. In the last mile or so, I knew I was getting close, so I started jogging and TOTALLY missed the junction between washbowl and the trailhead, and ended up going half a mile in the wrong direction. I even kept thinking to myself “This doesn’t look familiar…” but I didn’t know for sure until I reached a little junction sign to Nubble. I turned right around, and ran the rest of the way back. I made it back to my car at 3:10pm, almost 8.5 hours after leaving. I jumped in without even taking an exit photo, ripped my boots off, and sped home to make it there before my parents did. 39 more to go!

Giant Mountain: 4,627 feet  Elevation gain: +3050 feet

Rocky Peak Ridge: 4,420 feet  Elevation gain: +990 feet

Round Trip Distance: ~10 miles

Total Duration: ~8.5 Hours

All images are property of adktrailtalesandtails and may only be used with express permission.

Big Slide Mtn (27) with Bushnell Falls and the Three Brothers

Date: 08/26/16

Well, classes start back up on the 29th, and since I’m both taking and teaching a class, and working on my dissertation, and applying for jobs, I really wanted to get out an have a nice long day of hiking while I still can. I decided to go on a weekday in hopes that the trails wouldn’t be too packed, and it was a great decision. So I packed up my stuff Thursday night, and didn’t get a single minute of sleep before I was out the door at 5. I was really excited to climb this mountain and take the little detour over to the falls, and I’d been seriously looking forward to going swimming. I arrived at the trailhead dubbed “The Garden” in Keene at exactly 7am,paid my $7 parking fee, and took almost 30 minutes to get my socks and boots on…in my defense, I had to apply blister bandages, and 3 layers of socks to each foot, and it took a while! It was raining lightly anyway, so I didn’t see the harm in waiting it out a little. At any rate, I signed in at the register at about 7:30am, and took a sharp right to head up the 3 Brothers trail to Big Slide.

The trail starts climbing right out of the gate, and I was SO TIRED from not being able to sleep at all, so I really took my time going up. After about 10 minutes, I came to a junction with the trail to Porter Mountain and stayed to the left to keep on track.

It was so peaceful being in the woods with the sound of light rain hitting the leaves of the canopy above me, I considered curling up to nap under a tree on more than one occasion. But, considering it had only been like 10 minutes since I’d left the register, I figured I shouldn’t go to sleep yet, and kept slowly shambling up. After about 40 minutes, I reached my first incredible view of the surrounding mountains and the storm that was beginning to dissipate. I took about a thousand photos on the way up first brother, since after reaching the first lookout, the rest of the way up is ALL lookouts! I thought I was at the summit so many times. It was like climbing a spiral staircase, but you can’t see through to the other side, and sometimes you cross right through the middle…I know that doesn’t really make any sense, but it would if you’ve climbed this mountain. The views were spectacular, and while the view from each lookout is pretty much the same, the weather was changing constantly and drastically and I was whipping my camera out at every possible opportunity.

Just as I was putting my camera away, the lowest foggiest clouds started floating up on updrafts and dissipating! It was SO COOL! You don’t get to see that many times in your life (well, at least I don’t…) so I brought my camera back out and continued snapping. I must’ve wasted at least 30 minutes just taking pictures.

Look at those rays!

I eventually decided I needed to get my butt moving if I was ever going to reach all of my destinations, so I packed my camera away continued along the trail. I soon found myself inside of a cloud, and the fast wind was blowing it right through the trees, and it got COLD! My little thermometer indicated 60 degrees (on an 84 degree day), and it was so damp, so I bundled up and moved my legs a little faster to keep warm.

I finally made it to the summit of 1st brother after about 1.5 hours of hiking. I didn’t want to spend too much time taking in the sights, since I still had 3 peaks left to summit, but it was hard to tear myself away.

Cute little cairn absolutely not marking the right way to go.

Looking toward the summit of 2nd Brother

Not even 10 minutes later, after descending a bit then climbing back up and then some, I reached the summit of 2nd brother. In retrospect, I’m really glad that I chose to go up this path and down the gentler grade, because there were some definite difficult areas climbing up enormous boulders.

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Looking back on 1st Brother

The trek over to 3rd brother was a little bit longer, taking me almost 50 minutes, but it wasn’t particularly difficult. Somewhere between 2nd and 3rd brother my stomach started yelling at me to eat some food, so I was eager to get to the summit for a snack break. There wasn’t much in the way of views from this summit, but I sat on a nice rock under a tree where I had a vantage point through some trees and enjoyed some cheese ritz crackers.

After a brief break, I began the descent down to the col and when I turned around to look behind me, I saw that I was again in a cloud and light from the sun was filtering through it in the most amazing way! I threw my pack on the ground and tore through it to find my camera, muttering hurried profanities under my breath because I didn’t want the phenomenon to end before I was ready. Of course, by the time I got my camera pointed in the right direction, the cloud had pretty much passed. UGH! I ran a little ways down the path to where there was still some cloud hanging around, and snapped a picture. I tried, guys, I really did.

About half an hour after leaving the summit of 3rd brother (and 3 hours after leaving the trailhead), I came upon the most gorgeous little creek running through the forest. The whole area was so lush and green, I just had to sit down and enjoy it (and have another snack, of course). I remember thinking I could have lived at that little spot forever.

After another half hour, I had finally reached the col. The signs showing the path I had just come from and the path up Big Slide were very clear, but I was confused because there were two more trails leading from the junction, and they weren’t labelled, so I didn’t know which one was Slide Brook Trail (my intended route back down). I decided I’d figure it out later, and began the 0.3 miles ascent up Big Slide.

This trail was a right bit of work. It was just intimidating! There were several areas where I had to scratch my head for a moment to figure out how to get up and, more importantly, back down without dying. There were two terrifying ladders built up one of the slides, but the second ladder literally only had like 3 rotted wood rungs, so it didn’t do much good.

In all, it took me about 20 minutes to climb to the summit. The views were nice, but I’d already been spoiled by the first two brothers, and was more inclined to lie back and have a nap after chowing on a delicious PB&J Bagel.

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Behold, BAGEL!

Up until this point, I had had the mountains and trail completely to myself, and it was really nice. I was feeling rather antisocial from being so exhausted without sleep, and I welcomed hearing only the sounds of the forest around me. Unfortunately, after about 15 minutes of resting at the summit, I was joined by another group who, for some reason, just struck me as strange. I didn’t really want to share the crowded little summit with them, so I snapped a few more photos of the glistening slides on the distant mountains and what is (presumably) the summit marker, and went on my way.

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Summit marker? Maybe?

On my way down, I luckily ran into a really fun group who were just having a blast climbing up the mountain. They were resting after having just climbed the ladders, and told me they’d came up via the Slide Brook Trail, and to go straight when I got back down to the col. We wished each other well and I continued my descent, mostly on my rear. The path was so steep and slick from the recent rain! At the col, I ran into a woman and her daughter, who had also come up via the brook trail, and they reaffirmed that it was indeed the trail straight ahead. So, with a pep in my step and looking forward to following the brook down the mountain, I headed off. The trail was pretty boring for a mile or so, but soon after all of the little streams heading down the slope joined up to form a gorgeous brook. I really wish I’d spent more time here. The brook seemed to be flowing down some old slides, and it would split off and re-converge all the time, forming little islands that the trail followed. It was just constant waterfalls and deep pools all the way down, with crystal clear water and sandy floors. I was apparently really thirsty, because I kept thinking how much I wanted to go swim in those pools. I took a little break here and there, letting my hands soak in the freeeeezing water to try to bring some of the swelling down in my fingers. They were like sausages at this point, I could barely make a fist.

After following the river for quite a while, the trail diverged and led me down a looong slippery slide before coming back to the water.

When I got to the bottom of the trail, I encountered a junction sign that said “Trail <-” as in, go left to stay on the trail. I knew that I had to go right at the bottom of the trail to get to John’s Brook Lodge and Bushnell Falls, but I figured that maybe I just wasn’t totally at the bottom yet, so I followed the stupid sign. I made it to a cool outcropping on the Brook, and had my solitude broken once again by the family from the summit. I took a few pictures, and continued on a little ways, only to discover at a trail register that I had gone the totally wrong direction and turned to head back up the half mile or so that I had gone.

I was a little peeved about that sign at the base of the slide Brook Trail, but I made really good time coming down so even though I went ~1 mile out of my way, I was still right on target, and reached JBL at 2pm. It was my goal from here to make it to the top of the falls 1.8 miles away by 2:45, so I set out at a pretty quick pace. The trail was getting pretty crowded at this point with all sorts of people staying at the lodge, which was super cute, by the way! I’d like to stay there sometime.

The trail got a little confusing about 0.5 mile in, because it leads down onto the base of the river, where you’re just walking on the rocky bank without any direction. So for those of you that plan to go this way, just know that the trail never actually crosses the river! I just kept going until the trail picked up again through the woods. After about a mile of easy walking, the trail really started to climb, until it evened out and I found myself walking along a cool ridge with water flowing far below on either side. After walking for about 40 minutes, I was getting a little nervous that I was somehow on the wrong path again, and resolved to get my map out in another few minutes, when I came to a clearing and saw the sign to Bushnell!

It was a mere 0.1 mile near-vertical drop down to the base of the falls below. I had a lot of close calls and very nearly wiped out more than once, but 10 minutes later I reached the falls!

I quickly changed into my swimsuit, had a little snack and my victory chocolate, and jumped into the FRIGID water. I think they need to rename these falls “Giant’s Icepop” or something. So I pretty much got in, stumbled around on the rocks, and got right the hell back out. Even though it was cold, it felt sooo good, and I felt a little less slimy after 7.5 hours of hiking. I wrapped myself in my nice warm towel, and sat on a rock to rest my body and mind, listening to the falls and enjoying the breeze.

I took my leave about 45 minutes later, managing the ascent back to the top much more easily, taking only about 5 minutes. I had really wanted to make this whole trip in 10 hours, so I really hustled to get back to the garden. After I passed the Lodge though, I came upon a high-water bridge over the river. I steeled myself to go up it, and my legs wobbled because only ONE SIDE of the bridge has a railing! WHAT?! Anyway, I went out about halfway, decided that was enough for me, and scrambled right back down.

A few minutes later I came back to the misleading sign. If you see this, go the opposite way than the sign is point to get to JBL!

Several minutes later, I made it back to the place where I originally had to turn around, and saw that I still had nearly 3 miles to go to get back to the Garden. Luckily the going was easy and could really move quickly.

I finally made it back to the parking lot at 6pm, stripped my socks and boots off of my aching blistered feet, guzzled some water, and talked with the people who had come out just after me. They must have left super early, because I parked next to their truck when I arrived, and they had climbed 3 of the 46! We said our goodbyes, and I headed out of the lot satisfied with a successful and gratifying day.

Big Slide Mountain: 4240′ Elevation Gain: 2800′
Round Trip Distance: 16 miles (according to fitbit), 13 miles according to map (including my getting-lost)
Total Duration: 10.5 hours

All images are property of ADK Trail Tales and Tails and may not be used unless with express permission.

Street (31) and Nye (45) Mountains

08/15/2016

Weather: Unpredictable, apparently. (mostly sunny, some clouds, 75 degrees)

I’d been planning to climb these two on my birthday (tomorrow!), but weathermen said it’s supposed to pour all day, so I decided last minute that we’d go today. It was supposed to be sunny in the morning and overcast in the afternoon, which didn’t really matter to me since there aren’t views from either summit. So, with our (my) bags packs and boots on, we left the house at 7am to arrive at the Adirondack Loj sometime before 9. It’s a Monday, and it was already packed at the Loj! Luckily most people were doing the more popular peaks. We took the trail back behind the welcome center, and got a nice view of Heart Lake along the way, and thought maybe we’d take a dip when we were all finished!

We passed a cute little museum that I’d seen when I climbed Mt. Jo back in June, but it still wasn’t open ūüė¶ The flowers and their little description signs were cute though!

I didn’t reaaaally know exactly how to get to the mountain trail, I just assumed I’d figure it out along the way. The last time I stayed at the campground, I walked the trail all around the lake, and I thought I remembered a sign with “Nye” on it somewhere, so that’s all I was going on. At the first junction, I continued straight and passed the trail up to Mt. Jo. Soon after at 9am on the dot, I came to the register for Street and Nye, and signed in. While I was signing in and taking an only somewhat creepy photo of myself (took me 4 tries to get a decent one, so it was obviously going to be a really photogenic day), I heard loud splashing in the lake to my left…Juno had taken it upon herself to catapult through the brush, down the bank, and take a dip in the lake…twice. So she was pretty much soaking wet right from the get-go.

At first, I really did try to keep her on leash, as you’re supposed to do with dogs. The problem became that she is just really bad on a leash. She’s really not great off-leash either, but she usually comes when I call her, and she at least can’t pull me down when she goes charging off after chipmunks.

After a few more minutes of walking along the rocky trail, I came to the sign I had remembered! Except it said “Old Nye Ski Trail,” which really threw me off. In retrospect, I have no idea why it’s called that, I couldn’t possibly imagine anyone skiing down that trail. No way. Upon closer inspection, however, I saw someone had thoughtfully scribbled “& Street” onto the sign, so I was feeling a little more confident. And if I was wrong, well, at least I’d be on a trail somewhere, on some mountain, maybe. Who knows. Better than being at home all day.

So apparently I missed the sign saying the “Trail is not maintained after this point,” which I thankfully knew already and had an idea of what to expect. For being unmaintained and trailless though, it was a decent trail and definitely looked cared for¬†(puncheon, sawed logs, etc.). I’m not sure how I missed the sign, it is literally in the picture I took of the sign for the other route up Mt. Jo (on the left, cut off). I made it here only 10 minutes after signing in. Time to start the real trail!

About 20 minutes later, we came to our first little stream. Actually, it was not-so-little, thanks to all of our recent rain! The trail up to this point was a little damp, but no real mud issues, and I was optimistic the rest of the trail would be the same (lol) and bug free (LOLOL). Juno enthusiastically jumped in and splashed around a bit, and we continued on our way. Up until this point, the trail had been just a nice (albeit uneventful) walk through the woods.

Not more than 5 minutes later we came to a much more boisterous…creek? River? Brook? I don’t know, but it was pretty. It was this point that I was sure we were on the right trail, as I’d read that you have to cross the water just by your own will…there is no bridge, fallen log, or stepping stones, just a cairn to tell you that you do indeed have to cross. We hung out for a few minutes and shared our first snack (cheese crackers!) while a group ahead of us took their time getting their boots back on after crossing. After being thoroughly SOAKED by Juno leaping out of the water, carrying a veritable wave of water with her which of course landed all over me and my pack, I took off my boots and double-layered socks, and VERY carefully stumbled my way ungracefully through the cold water. I was not looking forward to doing this on the way back! We safely arrived at the other side, and while I was drying my feet and stuffing them back into my boots, Juno pulled her leaping-water-wave thing again. So if I wasn’t already soaked, I was now, and I might as well have just swam across the freaking river.

At any rate, we continued on, and soon came to another stream crossing, though this one was a lot more lowkey. There was an impressive tree to cross over on for those more confident in their balance, but I wanted to live, so I just crossed in the shallow water 2 feet away.

After this point, the trail followed several more streams, and we had to rock-hop across one or two of them, but it was easy going. We hadn’t even started to climb yet, and it had already been over an hour!

Finally, after about an hour and 20 minutes, the trail started to climb along a brook or stream or creek or something, as it wound up the mountain. It was getting muddier the farther up we went, and I stopped to bathe myself in deet, which of course didn’t bother the flies at all but it made me feel better about ticks. There were tons of little waterfalls and crystal clear pools of water, so we stopped frequently so June could play in them.

It was about this time that Juno started to drive me NUTS. The trail became a literal mudhole, stinking wet glopping mud, and she LOVED it. This meant that she would gallop from in front of to behind me, splash around in the muck, then go sprinting past me, spraying flecks and globs of muck all over my legs along the way, and then do it all over again. Sometimes she’d pass too close and slam right into my legs. I have no idea how I made it out of this hike relatively unscathed! I put my camera away so it’s life at least would be spared, and we continued to climb…and climb…and climb. I was getting hungry, and Juno was starting to snack on bits of grass sticking up out of the mud, so when we reached a flatter area a little before noon I decided we should take a break and enjoy our gourmet feasts: kibble and dehydrated chicken for Junybean, PB&J sammich and apple for mom! I was so glad I had actually prepared food this time, and wasn’t just stuck eating crackers and trail mix!

About 5 minutes later, we made it to the junction between Street and Nye. I took my camera out of its pack, snapped a picture of the handy (but illegal?) carving in the tree to denote which path is to which mountain. We took a brief break, drank some water, and headed down the path to Street. Of course, I was able to catch a glimpse of the mountain in the distance, and it looked leagues away. Like literal years away. I knew it was closer than it looked, because they always are, but it was still demoralizing to say the least.

That’s it. The green mound peaking between the trees.

The trail got even muckier after that, with just puddles of water hanging out on the trail. We passed some cool forests though and enjoyed the overwhelming greenness of the leaves and moss and ferns. It was absolutely lush! *burning into my memory to remember come winter*

After going down, and then back up up and up, we came to the summit of Street Mountain and chatted with some people we met along the way (they go to a university right by me,¬†go figure!) They were super nice, and the girl (Rhea?) even shared some handpicked crabapples with me, and they were surprisingly tasty! We took pictures for each other, and took our turns at the “lookout,” though there wasn’t much to look out on. June and I took a little break to have a summit snack, then we said our goodbyes (or see-ya-laters, since we were all headed to Nye) and took our leave.

Observing the mud, courtesy of Juno.

We made it back to the junction after what felt like forever of sludging through the mud, and met a lady there who was just coming off the trail to Nye and heading up Street. We talked for a moment, but were too exhausted to speak words well, and just shared how long it took us to get to the junction from each peak. Luckily for me, Nye was only a 10 minute jaunt away! We made it there in no time at all, and hurriedly took a picture. The place was swarming with flies for some reason, the sun was beating down (overcast, my butt, weatherman!) and there were no views to speak of. Side note: it took me like 5 tries to get a decent picture; every time I took one, my face looked like there was something foul-smelling under my nose (well…flies). I finally got a semi-decent one, and we got the heck out.

On the way back, I spied a little trail leading off from the main one that I hadn’t seen coming up; Juno led the way, and found a nice little overlook! I climbed to the top of a large rock and got the best views I had all day. Better than nothing! I snapped a few photos, left, and ran into my new friends from Street mountain, the friendly crabapple people, and informed them of the little offshooting trail. We said our goodbyes, and carried on.

There’s Street Mountain!

I didn’t take my camera out again until we were at the bottom. After we passed the junction, we came across a nice Bulgarian man (the father of the crabapple girl) who had just finished having a snack; Juno ran up to him, and STOLE the plastic cup that his snack had come in! I couldn’t believe that! What a brat. She ran around a bit, he laughed like it was the funniest thing, I told her to drop it, and she did. I felt bad, so I offered to take the slobbered-on garbage back down with me (my pack was already 40+lbs, it wouldn’t make a difference) and he obliged. We continued on our way, very carefully slipping and butt-scooting down the mountain. We had been going for more than an hour when I realized: I NEVER HAD MY VICTORY CHOCOLATE! Juno and I had just shared some fig newtons next to the steep brook, and I saw my little chocolate in my pack, scared and alone. Of course I took that victory chocolate out and crammed it straight into my cakehole, no-regrets style. As I was chomping on a mouthful of dribbling, melting chocolate (with raisins and peanuts and omg) I looked up to see a troupe of like 8 teenage boys slogging their way up the mountain. So as each one miserably greeted me, I had to reply with a mouthful of chocolate. No wonder they looked so miserable though, they were thoroughly unprepared! No hiking boots, no packs, minimal water, and no victory chocolate. I shrugged my shoulders at their naivete, and carried on. When we got back to the big river, it was actually really nice to put my shriveled, blistered feet in that cold, cold water and slip and slide my way across. We rested up for a minute and had another snack, and carried on. My goal from here was to make it back to the trail register by 4pm, so we hurried along. We eventually made it, after getting turned around once or twice, at…4:05. UGH so close! Oh well, close enough for me. We continued down the path all the way to the Heart Lake docks, where I tried to get Juno to swim. She plopped all 4 feet about 2 inches into the water, and looked back at me scornfully, as if to say “You have got to be joking. After what you just put me through, you want me to SWIM?” I nearly jumped in myself, but thought better of it by imagining the freezing soaking 2 hour drive home.

We got back to the car at 4:25, after 30,000 steps, 270 flights of stairs, and 7.5 hours of hiking (according to fitbit). I opened the door, and Juno passed out triumphantly, with paws and legs sticking every which way. Side note: after I snapped this final picture, I didn’t see her head pop back up for the rest of the drive home, except twice: Once to lean forward suddenly, lick my cheek, then disappear just as suddenly to the back seat, and again after I had opened a trail mix bar to eat while driving, and I turned my head and saw her snout-deep into my pack looking for morsels. She sniffed my face, then resumed her nap. After this successful, if muddy day, I decided I’ve learned 3 things: chocolate is to me as spinach is to popeye, never trust weathermen, and I am officially an Adirondack 4-er! Woohoo! 42 more to go!

Taken moments before the hound passed out

Street: 4166′ Elevation Gain: 2300′
Nye: 3895′ Elevation Gain: +400′
Round Trip Distance: 9.1 miles
Total Duration: 7 hours

All images are property of adktrailtalesandtails and may only be used with express permission.