halia and flammeus
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- Joined
- Dec 15, 2007
- Messages
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It all started last night with a trip to Gander Mountain. Blaze orange vests for the dogs – we don’t have any. I chose the cheap kind… I just couldn’t stomach the thought of $40 per dog for clothing. Even protective clothing. Pennywise…
That meant that we got home late, and chose to get a good night sleep instead of staying up for a while prepping packs etc. We’ll get ready in the morning – we’ll just get up earlier. Mmm hmmm.
We arranged with the owners and caretakers and their army of administrators to hike in from Timber Lake Camp. Making these arrangements involved multiple phone calls and faxes and notes and a peacock (no, I’m not just checking that you are reading this – a peacock was involved – but that’s another story). Permission was granted and we headed up to the camp a tad later than we originally planned. The “early start” turned out to be hitting the trail at 9:40 a.m. There are pros and cons – I prefer an early start because I need the time to get into and out of trouble during daylight hours. But it was bloody cold early. And then the breeze picked up. Ugh.
The trail starts behind the gymnastics pavilion, and is killer steep almost immediately. For the next hour, the trail alternated between brutally steep sections and then moderate uphill sections. At the one hour point, we were at a ledge – a rocky outcropping visible from the camp. It was breathtaking – very clear, some autumn color (lots of rusty shades), but the distances – jeepers. It was up there among all times best views – south down to the Burroughs Range and Ashokan High Point, across to the west shoulder of West Kill, and just sweeping layer after layer to the Gunks, and across to the Hudson Highlands. Wicked.
I don’t remember what happened next too well. Tom tells me it was pretty steep up to the summit. I was pumped up and psyched and it was maybe 30 minutes and there we were. The summit lies beyond beech and oak forest that seems endless – and then suddenly the herd path leads up to some balsams and it is a typical Catskills balsam dominated summit. We played a tolerable game of hide and seek with the canister, ate sandwiches and headed off to the west, for Sherrill.
By now both dogs have managed to remove their vests. Tom is planning the safety vests redesign out loud, using telecommunications equipment to improve their fastening apparatus.
We stumbled upon an amazing bear area – colossal scats and cool rock formations – on the way down ND into the col. We made a lot of noise approaching. Very cool.
The col is quite wet, and the dogs got to drink heartily from both running and standing water.
Heading up Sherrill was tough. Also very steep, and very rocky with cliffs here and there. And did I mention steep?
At the top of the ascent section, I started singing. First it was a Counting Crows song (Hanginaround – heard it in the car on the way to the trailhead). It rapidly degenerated into a country tune about looking for the canister. Then it became my opinions about canisters and summits and disappearing herd paths … thank god no one was up there.
We found a red hiking pole at the summit. Tom used it on the way down and left it with the caretaker. He fiddled with it a lot while at the summit. I nagged and rolled my eyes, but then he got out his leatherman to enhance his tinkerings. We hit this summit at 1 pm.
We found the view spot just south of the summit and took a gabillion photos there. It was on my short list of best places in the Catskills – what an amazing view. Thomas Cole and Black Dome, maybe KHP too? All the Devil’s Path peaks although from that angle I couldn’t pick them out for sure, the Burroughs Range, the distant stuff… the cloves… it was just lovely.
Back down to the col without incident. But then Tommy had an idea. I know, it’s my job to argue with his ideas, but it really wasn’t a bad idea… it just didn’t work out. We decided to skirt ND’s summit, to avoid all the elevation gain and loss, and aim for the trail we took up from the camp by just circling the south side of the summit and aiming for the ledge to pick up the trail.
We never found the ledge. We wandered around near it for a while as the afternoon sun sank and I got worried. Finally I got a decent view down into the valley and could see the camp clearly. Ok, forget the trail, we’ll just whack down and head for the camp.
Those of you that know ND are shaking your heads at our foolishness. Oy vey. We did ok for a while, but we hit killer cliffs and we got in too deep. Lily actually fell down a ravine and amazingly was not hurt. We did our best to pick a spot where we could get down without getting injured and made it but it was Not Good. We were in a too steep area for at least a mile or so – really struggling with the terrain and the footing, and trying to hustle as the caretaker had warned us that if we weren’t back by 5 or so, he’d call for rescuers. It was after 3, we were not on the trail, and I was not singing any more.
Finally I could see a more mellow, level area down below. After 15 or so minutes there, we found an unmarked trail, and then popped out on a woods road. We were close to the camp, so we just followed it and eventually ended up at the far end of the lake.
And so #s 32 and 33 are completed, and all’s well that ends well. At least we made our way to the correct valley (that was Tom’s comment). Despite being pretty well beat up by that dumb wack (it wasn’t all the times I fell that beat me up – it’s all the times I didn’t – all that straining to stay upright is exhausting!), I definitely loved these mountains. They have a real energy of wildness and remoteness, and those views… they were amazing.
photos here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/30705651@N02/
That meant that we got home late, and chose to get a good night sleep instead of staying up for a while prepping packs etc. We’ll get ready in the morning – we’ll just get up earlier. Mmm hmmm.
We arranged with the owners and caretakers and their army of administrators to hike in from Timber Lake Camp. Making these arrangements involved multiple phone calls and faxes and notes and a peacock (no, I’m not just checking that you are reading this – a peacock was involved – but that’s another story). Permission was granted and we headed up to the camp a tad later than we originally planned. The “early start” turned out to be hitting the trail at 9:40 a.m.
There are pros and cons – I prefer an early start because I need the time to get into and out of trouble during daylight hours. But it was bloody cold early. And then the breeze picked up. Ugh.The trail starts behind the gymnastics pavilion, and is killer steep almost immediately. For the next hour, the trail alternated between brutally steep sections and then moderate uphill sections. At the one hour point, we were at a ledge – a rocky outcropping visible from the camp. It was breathtaking – very clear, some autumn color (lots of rusty shades), but the distances – jeepers. It was up there among all times best views – south down to the Burroughs Range and Ashokan High Point, across to the west shoulder of West Kill, and just sweeping layer after layer to the Gunks, and across to the Hudson Highlands. Wicked.
I don’t remember what happened next too well. Tom tells me it was pretty steep up to the summit. I was pumped up and psyched and it was maybe 30 minutes and there we were. The summit lies beyond beech and oak forest that seems endless – and then suddenly the herd path leads up to some balsams and it is a typical Catskills balsam dominated summit. We played a tolerable game of hide and seek with the canister, ate sandwiches and headed off to the west, for Sherrill.
By now both dogs have managed to remove their vests.
Tom is planning the safety vests redesign out loud, using telecommunications equipment to improve their fastening apparatus. We stumbled upon an amazing bear area – colossal scats
and cool rock formations – on the way down ND into the col. We made a lot of noise approaching. Very cool.The col is quite wet, and the dogs got to drink heartily from both running and standing water.
Heading up Sherrill was tough. Also very steep, and very rocky with cliffs here and there. And did I mention steep?
At the top of the ascent section, I started singing.
First it was a Counting Crows song (Hanginaround – heard it in the car on the way to the trailhead). It rapidly degenerated into a country tune about looking for the canister. Then it became my opinions about canisters and summits and disappearing herd paths … thank god no one was up there.We found a red hiking pole at the summit. Tom used it on the way down and left it with the caretaker. He fiddled with it a lot while at the summit. I nagged and rolled my eyes, but then he got out his leatherman to enhance his tinkerings. We hit this summit at 1 pm.
We found the view spot just south of the summit and took a gabillion photos there. It was on my short list of best places in the Catskills – what an amazing view. Thomas Cole and Black Dome, maybe KHP too? All the Devil’s Path peaks although from that angle I couldn’t pick them out for sure, the Burroughs Range, the distant stuff… the cloves… it was just lovely.
Back down to the col without incident. But then Tommy had an idea. I know, it’s my job to argue with his ideas, but it really wasn’t a bad idea… it just didn’t work out. We decided to skirt ND’s summit, to avoid all the elevation gain and loss, and aim for the trail we took up from the camp by just circling the south side of the summit and aiming for the ledge to pick up the trail.
We never found the ledge. We wandered around near it for a while as the afternoon sun sank and I got worried. Finally I got a decent view down into the valley and could see the camp clearly. Ok, forget the trail, we’ll just whack down and head for the camp.
Those of you that know ND are shaking your heads at our foolishness. Oy vey. We did ok for a while, but we hit killer cliffs and we got in too deep. Lily actually fell down a ravine and amazingly was not hurt. We did our best to pick a spot where we could get down without getting injured and made it but it was Not Good. We were in a too steep area for at least a mile or so – really struggling with the terrain and the footing, and trying to hustle as the caretaker had warned us that if we weren’t back by 5 or so, he’d call for rescuers. It was after 3, we were not on the trail, and I was not singing any more.
Finally I could see a more mellow, level area down below. After 15 or so minutes there, we found an unmarked trail, and then popped out on a woods road. We were close to the camp, so we just followed it and eventually ended up at the far end of the lake.
And so #s 32 and 33 are completed, and all’s well that ends well. At least we made our way to the correct valley (that was Tom’s comment). Despite being pretty well beat up by that dumb wack (it wasn’t all the times I fell that beat me up – it’s all the times I didn’t – all that straining to stay upright is exhausting!), I definitely loved these mountains. They have a real energy of wildness and remoteness, and those views… they were amazing.
photos here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/30705651@N02/
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