WalksWithBlackflies
New member
Headed out of the Loj parking lot with Storytime at 8:30. Damn chest cold had me fighting for breath walking to the Register. I was setting a pretty slow pace, with Storytime tailgating me. I let him pass, and soon he was out of sight. Watching him disappear, I remembered that he’s been out nearly every weekend this winter, while this was only the fourth bout of activity I’ve had in the past five months. Luckily, Marcy Dam came into view much sooner than I expected. Took some nice photos of Colden/Algonquin, and stripped down to a short-sleeve shirt. Rested the lungs for a few minutes at the Avalanche lean-to and enjoyed the warm temps, sun, and brilliantly blue sky. The hike up to Lake Arnold seemed to go on forever. I would typically laugh at the constant 10% grade, but today, felt like my legs weighed an extra 20 pounds. When I reached the junction with the Crossover Trail, I thought that the lake was within ¼ mile. Cruelly, I was wrong. A few more minutes of huffing, puffing, wheezing, and coughing up my lungs and I was at Lake Arnold. I told Storytime that I thought I had pulmonary adema, which he laughed off. Sat in the sun for awhile, then we headed up the mountain. Soon views of Phelps, Tabletop and Marcy came into view, and the panorama only got better the further up we went. The Colden’s main knob in front of us seemed freakishly HUGE. Although I knew that such views always looked worse than they actually were, now I know why; Storytime told me that it was due to the trees below being taller than the trees on top. Once my brain filtered this new information, the optical illusion disappeared. However, after a few steep pitches, my legs were screaming for the oxygen my lungs couldn’t provide. A couple of minutes later, just before the main knob, I puked up a bitter mixture of bile and snot. I reached the knob in just a couple of minutes, but was bonking from lack of digestible carbs in my system. I ate a couple of mini peanut butter cups, and almost immediately felt my energy come back. Although still fighting for air, I traversed the remaining knob, and made the summit without incident. Early March, and I was on top of a high peak in a short-sleeve shirt for over an hour! We stayed on the summit snacking, taking photos, relaxing in the warm sun, and just enjoying the frosty mountains silhouetted against a perfectly blue sky. Reluctantly, we packed up and headed down to Lake Arnold, Storytime once again in the lead. Like a siren seducing a ship into port, I could hear Storytime playing his harmonica as I approached the lake; and like a siren, he was just as ugly. The hike back down to the Avalanche lean-to seemed absurdly long, but was uneventful except for the reflection of the sky in the snow crystals, which made the trail seem as if it was bordered by millions of blue diamonds. I had a snack and substantial rest at the lean-to, and as irony would have it, actually began to feel good and set a good pace back to the Loj.
