ALGonquin Bob
Well-known member
December 1-2
After sleeping at my friends’ Tmax & Topo’s Hostel in Lake Placid Wednesday night, I set out Thursday morning on a solo 1-nighter. Only a thin dusting of snow lay on the mostly frozen ground. I parked at the AMR/St. Huberts and walked nearly three-fourths of a mile to the club’s large gate, then up the Lake Road to the Leach Trail. It’s been only in the past 2 years or so that I’ve had light enough gear to consider climbing multiple high peaks in cold weather with a “full pack” (containing the usual gear plus sleeping bag, stove, and tent). Previously, I would do as much as possible as a day hike, avoiding, and missing out on, the freedom of solo hiking while being able to stop almost anywhere as needed to camp.
The Leach Trail immediately begins to ascend steeply. Unlike my previous trips over the burned shoulder of Noonmark, the trail up top is now severely eroded (I recall a wet grassy trail on my previous trips) and surrounded by a very dense thicket of 1-3" diameter trees (identified in an article I read as “white birch, fire cherry, big tooth aspen, and quaking aspen”) covering the area that suffered the 90+ acre burn from a camper’s careless fire in 1999. I slipped on my Microspikes and negotiated the stream/trail to the open rock ledges that were more like I remembered from my last trip up there, then dropped into the col.
PHOTOS a link to my FB album. Just click "cancel" when asked to sign in:
https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2873398118143.2154489.1355629679&type=1&l=0a1c534812
I climbed back up to Bear Den, a very beautiful little mountain covered by hemlock trees, much as that section of Noonmark was before the big fire. The walk up and over the Dial ridge is long but quite pleasant, and as I was leaving the summit boulders of Dial, “Mary” walked up. Mary was the only person I would see on this entire hike, and she was going to retrace her steps to exit back over Noonmark, so solitude was mine for the next 30 hours or so.
Continuing along the ridge, my knee started to bother me and I popped a couple ibuprofens. I eventually reached the junction at the top of the Elk Pass trail, dropped my pack (but carried my SPOT) and walked the final .2 to Nippletop’s distinctive and appropriately shaped summit cone. After the obligatory “hero photos”, I walked back to my pack.
The steep trail that drops 1 mile down to Elk Pass was all ice; my Microspikes and trekking poles served me well on that long slow descent. With great relief, I reached the base of the trail at dusk and chose a previously used campsite on a dry spot surrounded by plenty of water. My little 2-pound Big Agnes tent was comfortable and big enough to sit up in and change into dry clothes. My MSR white gas stove was set up outside the vestibule, but within reach so I could remain half inside my sleeping bag while tending to my stove and a pot of hot water. After a good meal of cheese curds and rehydrated chili-mac, I looked over my ADK-Nat. Geographic map and turned in for the night. One thing to remember about winter camping like this is that a night can be 14 hours long, so I made myself comfortable with a good meal, 2 bottles of hot water to keep my feet company, and slept most of that long December night.
At some point I opened my eyes, lifted my hat, and noticed daylight. It was time to get up. I had decided not to bring any special breakfast food, so there was no need to boil water again; I was able to immediately pack up and get back on the trail. Powerbars would be my food for the day, and I already had 2 quarts of warm water to get me over the remaining peaks and back out to my car. Climbing up out of Elk Pass, my knee continued to give me problems. More ibuprofen. Once at the Elk Pass-Colvin junction, I began to climb again. After about a minute, I opted to shed some pack weight, leaving my camping gear and previous day’s clothes enveloped within my pack cover at trailside. The ascent to Colvin was much easier with the lighter pack, and I enjoyed the familiar views of the AuSable lakes and the Great Range from the rocky outcrop. After a few photos, I headed to the dreaded Blake Peak. “Dreaded” because of its lowly status of sub-4000 feet altitude and remote “out and back” location. Colvin is a long ridge… a very long ridge, and it descends quite far and low before hitting bottom. On my previous hikes to Blake, I had to negotiate the steep slabs on the lower reaches of Colvin with a little rock climbing, a little luck, and a 50-foot line. Now there are 2 nice ladders, and I appreciated that. My knee continued to hurt; I took my remaining anti-inflammatory pills and kept on going; I could not turn back this close to Blake Peak! The Colvin-Blake col is a pleasant wooded area with a trail that also descends to Lower AuSable Lake. There are new signs there now; the old hand-lettered Blake sign called it “Blake’s Peak” I think. Now there are official DEC wooden signs with names, mileage, and the caution “No exit via the lake”!
I began climbing steeply toward Blake. Looking at the map, I saw a double summit and noted that the first bump looked like the true summit. In reaching the first high point, it didn’t look right, nor did it look familiar. I dropped down and stepped up again to the next high point. The green hand-painted AMR sign indicated “Colvin” and “Ridge to Pinnacle”. That was the summit, despite the absence of any official “Blake” sign. Come to think of it, none of the 4 summits that I visited on this hike had a summit sign. I felt somehow cheated despite knowing where I was. It made me wish I had begun hiking while summits still had canisters – a phenomena that I completely missed by not beginning to hike the High Peaks until 11 years ago.
Finally, I began my return toward Colvin, the Lake Road, my car, food, and a comfy hotel room that awaited me in Lake George. My knee still hurt, but I was out of pills and would just have to “tough it out”. After a long climb back up the ridge in a light snowfall, I stepped onto Colvin’s summit again. It looked different because of the snow that covered it, and because of the footprints that indicated that there had been a 4-footed visitor out there recently. On the trail, I was amused to see that the marten or fox, or whatever furry creature had recently walked before me would also walk on the narrow timbers that are laid over normally wet sections of trail. Although the mud was frozen, animals continued to follow the path of least resistance. I also saw distinctive bird tracks – perhaps someone will look at those photos and identify the bird for me. Descending toward the Elk Pass junction, I soon came back to my gear and repacked for the trip out. With my tender knee in full opposition, I was thankful for the relatively easy trail beyond that junction as I made haste for the Lake Road. Daylight left me with a mile and a half of trail and about 3 miles of road walking still to go, and my headlamp was a bit weak. I switched to lithium batteries (why did I ever put alkaline AAA’s in there?) and carefully kept moving, avoiding anything that would aggravate my inflamed kneecap.
Everyone who has done this hike knows what a welcome site the Lake Road is when coming off a long day of hiking. I was able to take off my Microspikes traction aids, turn off my brain for a while, and “zombie” my way out on a good flat (though hilly) surface for the final hour or so of walking. “I think I saw lights… the gatehouse?” No, it was 2 orange pylons with reflective tape at a soft spot on the shoulder. Another hill, or 2, or 3, and I saw lights! This time there was no mistake, because the lights were emanating from a large house up on the right hillside. A couple more turns and the 5th best view of my trip loomed before me (after the 4 summit views)… the beautiful, distinctive bent-wood AMR gate! I signed out and slowly walked the remaining 7-tenths of a mile back to my car. Trip over, and looking forward to doing it again!
After sleeping at my friends’ Tmax & Topo’s Hostel in Lake Placid Wednesday night, I set out Thursday morning on a solo 1-nighter. Only a thin dusting of snow lay on the mostly frozen ground. I parked at the AMR/St. Huberts and walked nearly three-fourths of a mile to the club’s large gate, then up the Lake Road to the Leach Trail. It’s been only in the past 2 years or so that I’ve had light enough gear to consider climbing multiple high peaks in cold weather with a “full pack” (containing the usual gear plus sleeping bag, stove, and tent). Previously, I would do as much as possible as a day hike, avoiding, and missing out on, the freedom of solo hiking while being able to stop almost anywhere as needed to camp.
The Leach Trail immediately begins to ascend steeply. Unlike my previous trips over the burned shoulder of Noonmark, the trail up top is now severely eroded (I recall a wet grassy trail on my previous trips) and surrounded by a very dense thicket of 1-3" diameter trees (identified in an article I read as “white birch, fire cherry, big tooth aspen, and quaking aspen”) covering the area that suffered the 90+ acre burn from a camper’s careless fire in 1999. I slipped on my Microspikes and negotiated the stream/trail to the open rock ledges that were more like I remembered from my last trip up there, then dropped into the col.
PHOTOS a link to my FB album. Just click "cancel" when asked to sign in:
https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2873398118143.2154489.1355629679&type=1&l=0a1c534812
I climbed back up to Bear Den, a very beautiful little mountain covered by hemlock trees, much as that section of Noonmark was before the big fire. The walk up and over the Dial ridge is long but quite pleasant, and as I was leaving the summit boulders of Dial, “Mary” walked up. Mary was the only person I would see on this entire hike, and she was going to retrace her steps to exit back over Noonmark, so solitude was mine for the next 30 hours or so.
Continuing along the ridge, my knee started to bother me and I popped a couple ibuprofens. I eventually reached the junction at the top of the Elk Pass trail, dropped my pack (but carried my SPOT) and walked the final .2 to Nippletop’s distinctive and appropriately shaped summit cone. After the obligatory “hero photos”, I walked back to my pack.
The steep trail that drops 1 mile down to Elk Pass was all ice; my Microspikes and trekking poles served me well on that long slow descent. With great relief, I reached the base of the trail at dusk and chose a previously used campsite on a dry spot surrounded by plenty of water. My little 2-pound Big Agnes tent was comfortable and big enough to sit up in and change into dry clothes. My MSR white gas stove was set up outside the vestibule, but within reach so I could remain half inside my sleeping bag while tending to my stove and a pot of hot water. After a good meal of cheese curds and rehydrated chili-mac, I looked over my ADK-Nat. Geographic map and turned in for the night. One thing to remember about winter camping like this is that a night can be 14 hours long, so I made myself comfortable with a good meal, 2 bottles of hot water to keep my feet company, and slept most of that long December night.
At some point I opened my eyes, lifted my hat, and noticed daylight. It was time to get up. I had decided not to bring any special breakfast food, so there was no need to boil water again; I was able to immediately pack up and get back on the trail. Powerbars would be my food for the day, and I already had 2 quarts of warm water to get me over the remaining peaks and back out to my car. Climbing up out of Elk Pass, my knee continued to give me problems. More ibuprofen. Once at the Elk Pass-Colvin junction, I began to climb again. After about a minute, I opted to shed some pack weight, leaving my camping gear and previous day’s clothes enveloped within my pack cover at trailside. The ascent to Colvin was much easier with the lighter pack, and I enjoyed the familiar views of the AuSable lakes and the Great Range from the rocky outcrop. After a few photos, I headed to the dreaded Blake Peak. “Dreaded” because of its lowly status of sub-4000 feet altitude and remote “out and back” location. Colvin is a long ridge… a very long ridge, and it descends quite far and low before hitting bottom. On my previous hikes to Blake, I had to negotiate the steep slabs on the lower reaches of Colvin with a little rock climbing, a little luck, and a 50-foot line. Now there are 2 nice ladders, and I appreciated that. My knee continued to hurt; I took my remaining anti-inflammatory pills and kept on going; I could not turn back this close to Blake Peak! The Colvin-Blake col is a pleasant wooded area with a trail that also descends to Lower AuSable Lake. There are new signs there now; the old hand-lettered Blake sign called it “Blake’s Peak” I think. Now there are official DEC wooden signs with names, mileage, and the caution “No exit via the lake”!
I began climbing steeply toward Blake. Looking at the map, I saw a double summit and noted that the first bump looked like the true summit. In reaching the first high point, it didn’t look right, nor did it look familiar. I dropped down and stepped up again to the next high point. The green hand-painted AMR sign indicated “Colvin” and “Ridge to Pinnacle”. That was the summit, despite the absence of any official “Blake” sign. Come to think of it, none of the 4 summits that I visited on this hike had a summit sign. I felt somehow cheated despite knowing where I was. It made me wish I had begun hiking while summits still had canisters – a phenomena that I completely missed by not beginning to hike the High Peaks until 11 years ago.
Finally, I began my return toward Colvin, the Lake Road, my car, food, and a comfy hotel room that awaited me in Lake George. My knee still hurt, but I was out of pills and would just have to “tough it out”. After a long climb back up the ridge in a light snowfall, I stepped onto Colvin’s summit again. It looked different because of the snow that covered it, and because of the footprints that indicated that there had been a 4-footed visitor out there recently. On the trail, I was amused to see that the marten or fox, or whatever furry creature had recently walked before me would also walk on the narrow timbers that are laid over normally wet sections of trail. Although the mud was frozen, animals continued to follow the path of least resistance. I also saw distinctive bird tracks – perhaps someone will look at those photos and identify the bird for me. Descending toward the Elk Pass junction, I soon came back to my gear and repacked for the trip out. With my tender knee in full opposition, I was thankful for the relatively easy trail beyond that junction as I made haste for the Lake Road. Daylight left me with a mile and a half of trail and about 3 miles of road walking still to go, and my headlamp was a bit weak. I switched to lithium batteries (why did I ever put alkaline AAA’s in there?) and carefully kept moving, avoiding anything that would aggravate my inflamed kneecap.
Everyone who has done this hike knows what a welcome site the Lake Road is when coming off a long day of hiking. I was able to take off my Microspikes traction aids, turn off my brain for a while, and “zombie” my way out on a good flat (though hilly) surface for the final hour or so of walking. “I think I saw lights… the gatehouse?” No, it was 2 orange pylons with reflective tape at a soft spot on the shoulder. Another hill, or 2, or 3, and I saw lights! This time there was no mistake, because the lights were emanating from a large house up on the right hillside. A couple more turns and the 5th best view of my trip loomed before me (after the 4 summit views)… the beautiful, distinctive bent-wood AMR gate! I signed out and slowly walked the remaining 7-tenths of a mile back to my car. Trip over, and looking forward to doing it again!
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