Solo Day Jaunt: Whales Tail, Wright, Algonquin 5/27/17

I really defined a whole new level of exhaustion for myself on this trip.

So it’s currently June 8^th, and I’m just sitting down to write this trip report. Looking back, this was my favorite hike I’ve done so far. The combination of incredible views, rugged and wet trails, the pace, and doing it solo really cemented this trip into my memory. Here’s what happened:

I had planned earlier in the week to do Wright, Algonquin, and Iroquious. These three peaks would bring me to 6/46, so I was super motivated. The loop starts from the Adirondack Loj, and is about 12 miles with a pretty significant elevation gain. More important to me was Algonquin peak, Avalanche Pass, and Lake Colden.

As I was getting my gear together a few days before, I had come across an old, framed U.S. Army rucksack. It had one large compartment, a small interior compartment, three large external pockets, and a black aluminum frame. It was old-school U.S. Army green. Because I would be doing this hike during Memorial Day Weekend, and the fact this this was my mom’s pack from when she was kicking ass in the military twenty years ago, I decided to try it out (I did bring my regular pack along just in case). I quickly realized the pack was a good deal smaller (by about 5-10 liters) than my regular pack and that quick access to the interior of the large compartment for anything was not possible.

I left work at 7 p.m. Friday, May 26^th 2017. I had to stop at Jeff’s house to get a sleeping bag and bear can he was letting me borrow from my last trip to the Adirondacks (thanks Jeff!). After picking up the gear, I got stuck in bumper to bumper traffic along the northern parts of Rt. 287 in New Jersey. Anyone from New Jersey or the tri-state area should be familiar that this road can be a nightmare. Sitting in this traffic, I was growing tired and frustrated. I knew this would delay me getting to the trailhead and starting off. This turned out to be a pretty good turn of events however.

I stopped at the Plattekill rest area somewhere along the New York Thruway around 10 p.m. I filled my Nalgene water bottles and did all the other rest stop activities. I was still 3.5 hours away from Adirondack Loj and I was feeling tired and nervous.

“Is this a good idea? You’re pretty tired and still far away. And you’re alone”

The familiar thoughts of doubt and questioning why I was doing this were creeping in. I drank some soda and coffee (Caffeine!) and started off on the road again.

I arrived at Adirondack Loj at 2:17 A.M. I filled out the parking enevelope, hung the badge on my rear-view mirror, checked my gear and did some repacking (I ended up dropping my water filter in the dark) and headed off.

I got lost for about ten minutes inside the Loj parking area before I found the trailhead register, signed in and took off for Wright. The previous week had brought a lot of rain to the area and the dark trail was wet and muddy. Even with my headlamp, the darkness enveloped me and my tiny headlamp. After about a half mile, the trail began to climb upwards. With each step there were more rocks and water falling down between them. There was so much rushing water around me that I began to think I was hearing some sort of animal or rustling in the woods around me. Once again I told myself that if a black bear was around, I probably wouldn’t see it since it was pitch black all around me. I started to turn around every fifty feet or so and scan the woods behind me for eyes. I didn’t want to see anything, but I thought it would be better if I saw anything before it was too close. Fortunately, I didn’t see anything except a small pair of eyes reflecting. They were low to the ground and close together so I assumed that it was small, whatever it was. Around 3:30 am I got to Whales Tail, a 2900+ foot mountain near the foot of Wright. This was a good marker, showing I had gained a good amount of elevation since starting from the parking lot. I took a picture of the signed, scanned the dark woods with the tiny beam of light on my head, and started again. I was making slow progress. The rocks were big, there was a lot of water and mud, and the trail was challengingly steep.

By this point the woods were beginning to turn from black to a steel-colored grey. This was much more eery than the totally black woods because now there were shadows that your mind could trick you into believing was a bear, a mountain lion, a sasquatch etc. Around 5:00 a.m. I heard a tremendous roar of rushing water. I was worried it would be a stream I wouldn’t be able to cross. It turned out to be a beautiful waterfall. It looked amazing in the grey, misty light of dawn. I took put down my pack and had a snack and sat for a few minutes.

I reached the top of Wright exactly 45 minutes after my break (5:45 am). The trail up Wright was very challenging for me. There were a lot of rock slabs that were wet and the trail was very steep. I don’t know if this was due to the fact it was my first peak of the day or what, but I was cursing myself the entire way up. I was moving at a pretty good pace, desperately wanting to get to the top of this mountain and see what was up there. When I passed the tree-line and began to see more rock and some cairns, I charged up the rest of the way.

The sun was just beginning to rise, and I was above the clouds that blanketed the area below the peak. This is what I had come for. This is why I started off in the total darkness. I looked all around me, and just as I turned away from the sunrise, the clouds blew away from me and Algonquin stood directly opposite. I let out a  “Holy Shit!” and stood there and stared at Algonquin: it was much taller than what I was on, and it looked massive. I enjoyed the top of Wright all to myself for about twenty minutes, admiring the view, the sunrise, and raking a bunch of pictures. I could see the trail leading up Algonquin and I started back down to the trail junction to get Algonquin next.

The Trail up Algonquin was a lot of fun and it seemed less challenging that the climb up Wright. Maybe I was just warmed up, or the sunlight gave me energy. I arrived at the top of Algonquin at 7:20 am. The sun was much higher now. Even though it was completely daylight, the summit was windy and cold. There were still some clouds in the valleys below me, but most of them had blown out and I had a spectacular view. I explored the top of Algonquin, which again I had completely to myself the whole time I was up there. This was the highest peak I had climbed yet, a whopping 5,117 feet.  I spent about 40 minutes at the top before heading down. While I was at the summit, I had seen Iroquious and the trail leading up it. Checking my map, the trail junction at the col between Algonquin and Iroquious seemed relatively straightforward.

I descended down the back of Algonquin, which was a beautiful section of trail. When I reached the tree line I turned left and headed down. I should’ve looked at my map when I got to the junction again but I didn’t. I started down the trail which turned out to be very steep and very wet. I was focusing hard on finding good foot holds and not falling. In fact, I was focusing so hard I forgot to look around me for the trail and ended up about halfway down to Avalanche Lake. I realized my error when I met a couple who were coming up the trail. They had gotten lost the night before in the rain and descended this very difficult section of trail. I looked at what I had just come down, assessed my energy level, and decided against going back up. Looking back, I think this was a good choice. If I turned around, I would’ve had to descend this trail again and I would be more fatigued which would be risky.

I had lunch at 11 am at a campsite off the trail. I spread out my poncho, sat down and boiled some water for coffee and lunch. I could see Mt. Colden behind me through the trees.

One of my favorite parts of this trip came after lunch when I got to Lake Colden. The awesome view of Mount Colden reflected in the lake, the incredibly rugged and tempting waterfall that splits its face, and the giant slab of rock that makes up its one side were amazing. I don’t know a lot about the geology of the Adirondacks yet, but seeing what looked like one giant piece of rock without many cracks in it was amazing. The trail along Lake Colden is made up of some boardwalks built into cliffs as well as log ladders that get up over the boulders. At this point I could definitely tell it was a Holiday weekend. There were tons of groups of hikers on the trail, mostly coming towards me from the direction of Adirondack Loj.

I got back to my car at 2:18 pm, about 12 hours after I had arrived at the Loj and 11 hours since I started on the trail. I cleaned myself up a bit, stowed my gear, and started the long drive back to New Jersey.

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“The Iron Never Lies”:How rediscovering weightlifting and exercise changed a destructive pattern.

“The Iron never lies to you. You can walk outside and listen to all kinds of talk, get told your a God or a total bastard. The Iron will always kick you the real deal…Friends may come and go. But two hundred pounds is always two hundred pounds.” – Henry Rollins

I had put down the weights for too long. A general feeling of depression, anxiety, and overall discontent with myself, my relationships and my life began to slowly creep up on me. I believe this happened because I stopped adding the good stress, vigorous exercise, into my life and subconsciously began to add stress in other far more harmful ways: drinking too much, overthinking, becoming progressively more and more disillusioned and hopeless about the trajectory of my life. Lashing out at friends and family, even strangers.

I became an entirely different person, physically and mentally, all because I stopped picking up the weight. I had become content with replacing the high felt after exercise, the high of accomplishment and knowing what you’re made of at that moment, with the high you can purchase in any liquor store for $10. I wanted oblivion. I wanted to forget. But forget what? I didn’t know what I wanted to forget until I picked up the weights again. I realized that the weights we don’t lift externally, we force inside ourselves and lift with our spirits, our hearts and our minds.

What did it take for me to go back to the gym and pick up the weight again? Desire and Disgust. A desire to be better, stronger and healthier than I had been for the past two years. And disgust with who I had become: a talker, a dreamer, a passive observer of my life. A physically and mentally weaker person then I had been before. For too long I had felt myself getting physically and mentally weaker, and I had become o.k. with it.  For too long I had put off being completely honest with myself. Something had to change.

What I had done to my body and mind in two years went away in ten days. I went to the gym every day and lifted until I couldn’t anymore. Purification through Pain. Once it started to hurt, I would briefly toy with the idea of going home. I called myself out on my bullshit and did another set. This was the only way to dull the psychic pain and boredom I had become accustom to: replace it with physical stress, external pain, and the psychic pain and tension becomes reduced.

I felt stronger almost immediately. I had more energy, was in a better mood, and felt more confident in myself. This was the feeling that I had remembered. All it took was picking up the weight. Not being afraid of the pain, because the psychic pain you have become accustomed too is far more painful than the pain the weights bring you. It is always better to be strong than weak, in all areas of your life. But starting with the physical is essential. It trains your mind as well as your body. It teaches us that we are far more powerful and capable than we believe ourselves to be.

The in between Times

In between my time in the mountains my life spirals out of control a little bit. I drink more. I sleep less. I focus less. I eat less. I daydream more (unproductively). I smoke more cigarettes. I spend more money.

Up until a week or so before my next trip. Then I focus. Then I repack my backpack five times, tweeking something each time. Then I go over the map and bail out routes and mileage and elevation change multiple times. Why don’t I have this level of attention to detail and dogged determination to prepare in other areas of my life? Like work, like my social relationships, like with my family?

I can’t answer these things.

The only thing I know is that the trail and the mountains makes me feel alive. Alive in a way that nothing else does. Not fatherhood.Not responsibility. None of the things society tells you that you should enjoy. Not beer, nor liquor. Not weed or cigarettes. No.

The trail is the only thing. For better or worse, the only thing I’ve surrendered myself to is lines on a map with the hopes of a narrow strip of dirt down the line.

Humbled Ambitions : First Trip to the Adirondacks 4/28/17-4/30/17

Things look a lot different on a map. Sure, there’s a lean-to here. Oh, we’ll just take this trail. Planning a route with your brand new map spread across the table at home is a lot of fun. It seems so simple, so straightforward and easy. Of course, as history has shown us many times, once you get your boots on the ground the best plans can go awry. My good friend Jeff was kind enough to come along with me on this trip. I’m sure he could tell I was excited. I did do a lot of research and preparation for this. However, conflicting condition reports lead me to the decision to leave the snow shoes at home. I left to pick up Jeff right after I got off work on Friday night. All day at work I was super excited an anxious to be on my way. Got to Jeff’s around eight-thirty at night, and after a quick gear check we were on our way. The drive up to Keene Valley was long and dark. It seemed even longer because I just couldn’t wait to get there and actually be in the place I had been staring at on a map for two weeks.

We arrived at the Garden parking area in Keene Valley a little after one a.m. I took my contacts out, hoping to soak them and rest my eyes for a little bit. I had been wearing them all day and needed to have them off my eyes. After I did that Jeff and I proceeded to get our gear fully together and drop the envelope with our parking money at the gate. A few minutes before we were ready to head out, I tried to put my contacts back in. I got the left eye, but the right contact slid off my finger and disappeared into the tan interior of my car. After a few minutes of fruitless searching, I gave up and resigned myself to having less than 20/20 vision in my right eye for the trip. Not a big deal. The mountains are big enough to see without contacts in right? We approached the trail log and signed in. Laid on the ground were a few ominous signs: a broken snowshoe, A single, lonely croc, a broken trekking pole.

First Solo Hike: Table, Peekamoose and Slide Mountain. Catskills, NY 4/14/17-4/17/17

I had a lot of big hopes for this trip. I’m writing this about a week later, so bear with me. I went through a pretty terrible breakup about a week before this trip. The break-up was actually the catalyst for this trip to even go down. I asked a coworker and all around great guy, Drew, about some nice hikes and he recommended this area to me. I loved it. Heres the story:

I left Brooklyn around 8:30 to head up to the Catskills. I originally intended to camp at the base of Slide mountain that first day, but the gps on my phone lost service and I ended up at the Denning Road trail head at the base of Table Mountain. This turned out to be an awesome accident that really made the whole trip a lot better for me.

So I park my car, sign in the registry, and drink a tall can of Budweiser before heading down the trail. I also had one in my back for once I had set up camp.