Zer0-G
New member
I spent all of the summer parading around the Adirondacks collecting peaks and getting to know the place. It was wonderful. I had a great time.
I remember, on more than just one occasion, driving home from the Daks down I-87 south of Albany and staring longingly out into the distance at the Catskill Mountains. I would say to them, “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten, I’ll be back soon.”
This weekend was my home coming. The long anticipated event has arrived.
Lists aside with no big agenda at hand, nothing to prove and almost nowhere to “have to” go to.
9:30 am – Rt. 214 – Devils Path – Miles from my first destination, Southwest Hunter. The first thousand feet begs comparisons to recent Daks adventures and serves as mind fodder all the way to the Devil’s Acre Lean-to. This “old shoe” fits well and needs no adjustments along the way.
Shortly past the Lean-to, the cairn marks the departure point for my first trip up what once was described to me as the “wheelchair access route” to Southwest Hunter. Yes, I’ve been to this summit twice before but never traveled this route from the Devils Path.
One War Story and one ad-lib and now one “sure shot”.
10:50 am – the summit canister and my usual dedications this time written as opposed to wished. The return trip to the Devils Path offers no surprises and I take notice of the rays of golden sun shining down through the trees. I am reminded of a song my son brought home from day-care “Mr. Sun , Sun , Mr. Golden Sun, won’t you please shine down on me bumpity-bump”. Uh Oh…this song, warming at first is now my constant companion to Diamond Notch. Well, at least it helped to pass the time. Let’s just say it wasn’t on my top ten list by the time I got there.
Along the way, I passed two fellow backpackers on their way up to Hunter, with their pooch leading the way. Looking spent after a long up-hill I could see that they were envious of my skipping along on the downhill. We were doing the same loop, partly, in opposite directions, so we said in parting, “see ya later”.
I was happy to have the trail mostly to myself for most of the day and that brought up more of the inevitable comparisons of recent experiences.
Continuing now along the Devils Path, my next destination is West Kill. The sky is graying on and off and distant rumblings are starting to enter the streams of trail consciousness.
I had made a plan of a nice rest break and a good lunch at the Buck Ridge viewpoint on the return trip from the West Kill summit and I now wonder if that would be possible.
1:45 pm – The summit of West Kill and threatening weather – the thunder is intensifying, the wind is picking up and Buck Ridge warrants a mere two minute respite before I abandon the viewpoint for safer grounds.
Out comes the pack cover, the rain jacket and the affirmations. I really do enjoy all this. I am reminded of a remark from a dear friend in response to a question raised “of course I’ll go if it rains, I’m not a Sugar Cube!”
2:45 pm – Diamond Notch – and off to Spruceton Road – a brief Water stop where I, with my back turned to the trail, filling bottles, feel a nudge on my backside. Curious with kind eyes, this beautiful pooch was now being summoned back up onto the trail by owner and friends amidst a chorus of chuckles.
Accompanied now by a light rain and echoing thunder, Spruceton Road appears. The weather has taken control of this day as there is no agenda driving my ambitions.
3:15 pm - At the Hunter Brook parking area. With changing weather guiding my path I decide to call it a day. Moving easily through the tall pines I am searching for that perfect campsite. Signs proclaim “Camping Prohibited”, I find this mildly annoying as I do prefer the backside of the sign which has no such proclamation. Moving north on public land, out of sight of the signs, hoping to be “legal” I choose the perfect sight, string up the hammock and complete day one.
8:30 am – Rusk awaits. This is my third time climbing this un-assuming peak. This time, as the first two, is unique to a degree. Bushwhacking indeed, I can see that I haven’t been up this way before. Always searching for the hidden highway through the brush, I find none. I am left to the thornies and brambles as I skreek my way up the slope. Scratched up with my sense of humility once again reinforced, I locate the canister and scribe my usual blessing – For my Son, Arlo and my Wife, Gina – Om Mane Peme Jung.
9:40 am – Off the summit due east along the Super Highway. It’s a beautiful day. The morning sun is once again painting the greenery with yellow and gold highlights as the path meanders towards my next destination. Height of Land dictates a southeast track now and the elevation loss indicates I should be arriving at the trail shortly.
Out of the bushes, the signpost indicates the way to Hunter Mountain. A brief rest stop at the Water Barrel where I tend to my scrapes and bruised ego. I fill the bottles one last time and head up the trail. Hustling down the trail, looking well rested now, my two fellow backpackers and pooch. Pleasantries exchanged and on my way. Five minutes pass and the pooch with the curious brown eyes with owners in tow greets me with another sniff. Once again, pleasantries exchanged.
11:45 – On the return trip from Colonels Chair – I stumble across a very startled Rip Van Winkel – I could not help but to start up a conversation with the old fellow. I felt quite sorry for him and his predicament. However, I assured him that even though he might not adjust to this new modern world, that everything would be OK.
I met a few groups of people at the Fire Tower chatted a bit and had a long well deserved lunch break, After everyone had left I stretched out on the picnic table and thought about life.
Content and refreshed. Off I go. Next destination, Devils Tombstone, Notch Lake.
It was good to be back in the Catskills.
2: 40 pm – Notch Lake.
90/420
I remember, on more than just one occasion, driving home from the Daks down I-87 south of Albany and staring longingly out into the distance at the Catskill Mountains. I would say to them, “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten, I’ll be back soon.”
This weekend was my home coming. The long anticipated event has arrived.
Lists aside with no big agenda at hand, nothing to prove and almost nowhere to “have to” go to.
9:30 am – Rt. 214 – Devils Path – Miles from my first destination, Southwest Hunter. The first thousand feet begs comparisons to recent Daks adventures and serves as mind fodder all the way to the Devil’s Acre Lean-to. This “old shoe” fits well and needs no adjustments along the way.
Shortly past the Lean-to, the cairn marks the departure point for my first trip up what once was described to me as the “wheelchair access route” to Southwest Hunter. Yes, I’ve been to this summit twice before but never traveled this route from the Devils Path.
One War Story and one ad-lib and now one “sure shot”.
10:50 am – the summit canister and my usual dedications this time written as opposed to wished. The return trip to the Devils Path offers no surprises and I take notice of the rays of golden sun shining down through the trees. I am reminded of a song my son brought home from day-care “Mr. Sun , Sun , Mr. Golden Sun, won’t you please shine down on me bumpity-bump”. Uh Oh…this song, warming at first is now my constant companion to Diamond Notch. Well, at least it helped to pass the time. Let’s just say it wasn’t on my top ten list by the time I got there.
Along the way, I passed two fellow backpackers on their way up to Hunter, with their pooch leading the way. Looking spent after a long up-hill I could see that they were envious of my skipping along on the downhill. We were doing the same loop, partly, in opposite directions, so we said in parting, “see ya later”.
I was happy to have the trail mostly to myself for most of the day and that brought up more of the inevitable comparisons of recent experiences.
Continuing now along the Devils Path, my next destination is West Kill. The sky is graying on and off and distant rumblings are starting to enter the streams of trail consciousness.
I had made a plan of a nice rest break and a good lunch at the Buck Ridge viewpoint on the return trip from the West Kill summit and I now wonder if that would be possible.
1:45 pm – The summit of West Kill and threatening weather – the thunder is intensifying, the wind is picking up and Buck Ridge warrants a mere two minute respite before I abandon the viewpoint for safer grounds.
Out comes the pack cover, the rain jacket and the affirmations. I really do enjoy all this. I am reminded of a remark from a dear friend in response to a question raised “of course I’ll go if it rains, I’m not a Sugar Cube!”
2:45 pm – Diamond Notch – and off to Spruceton Road – a brief Water stop where I, with my back turned to the trail, filling bottles, feel a nudge on my backside. Curious with kind eyes, this beautiful pooch was now being summoned back up onto the trail by owner and friends amidst a chorus of chuckles.
Accompanied now by a light rain and echoing thunder, Spruceton Road appears. The weather has taken control of this day as there is no agenda driving my ambitions.
3:15 pm - At the Hunter Brook parking area. With changing weather guiding my path I decide to call it a day. Moving easily through the tall pines I am searching for that perfect campsite. Signs proclaim “Camping Prohibited”, I find this mildly annoying as I do prefer the backside of the sign which has no such proclamation. Moving north on public land, out of sight of the signs, hoping to be “legal” I choose the perfect sight, string up the hammock and complete day one.
8:30 am – Rusk awaits. This is my third time climbing this un-assuming peak. This time, as the first two, is unique to a degree. Bushwhacking indeed, I can see that I haven’t been up this way before. Always searching for the hidden highway through the brush, I find none. I am left to the thornies and brambles as I skreek my way up the slope. Scratched up with my sense of humility once again reinforced, I locate the canister and scribe my usual blessing – For my Son, Arlo and my Wife, Gina – Om Mane Peme Jung.
9:40 am – Off the summit due east along the Super Highway. It’s a beautiful day. The morning sun is once again painting the greenery with yellow and gold highlights as the path meanders towards my next destination. Height of Land dictates a southeast track now and the elevation loss indicates I should be arriving at the trail shortly.
Out of the bushes, the signpost indicates the way to Hunter Mountain. A brief rest stop at the Water Barrel where I tend to my scrapes and bruised ego. I fill the bottles one last time and head up the trail. Hustling down the trail, looking well rested now, my two fellow backpackers and pooch. Pleasantries exchanged and on my way. Five minutes pass and the pooch with the curious brown eyes with owners in tow greets me with another sniff. Once again, pleasantries exchanged.
11:45 – On the return trip from Colonels Chair – I stumble across a very startled Rip Van Winkel – I could not help but to start up a conversation with the old fellow. I felt quite sorry for him and his predicament. However, I assured him that even though he might not adjust to this new modern world, that everything would be OK.
I met a few groups of people at the Fire Tower chatted a bit and had a long well deserved lunch break, After everyone had left I stretched out on the picnic table and thought about life.
Content and refreshed. Off I go. Next destination, Devils Tombstone, Notch Lake.
It was good to be back in the Catskills.
2: 40 pm – Notch Lake.
90/420
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