At the end of my last post, I mentioned that I would be vanishing into the Adirondack Mountains for a few days, and I’m happy to report that I’ve re-emerged again, slightly bruised and aching, but grinning from ear to ear.

Thanks to the knowledgeable man at The Mountaineer who’s name I didn’t catch, I decided to take the path to Hopkins Mountain, perhaps following on to Spread Eagle Mountain, and then beyond as far as I felt like going.  I hadn’t spent much time on this side of the Keene Valley before, and had heard that it was beautiful and a bit undiscovered, so decided to give it a shot.  I parked the FJ at the Roostercomb Mountain pull out and started up the trail across the road following Hopkins Brook.  I’m not going to give you a step by step of where I went, but in general you can assume that it was mostly uphill on the way in, and mostly downhill on the way back out!  The contour map of the area will give you some idea.

The Mountaineer man was right, and there were very few people there — I met a Canadian couple in the first hour of my hike, and no one else for the next three days.  In general, Adirondack Mountain trails are characterized by soft peaty natural mulch, rock scrambles, slippery roots, stream crossings, and a fair bit of mud in the springtime (Adirondack mud season has a lore of its own), which rarely lets you get into a regular rhythm of walking, but instead requires some attention to footing and balance.  It sometimes feels as if you’re traveling through primeval forest, and the only sounds you hear when you stop are trickling brooks, the wind in the trees, and the rustling of small animals in the undergrowth.

Although I’ve done a fair bit of backpacking all over the world, it’s actually been a few years since I carried a full pack, so stream crossings like this one, with slippery mossy rocks, had me concentrating on my balance.  That’s the trail going up the other side, over rocks and roots.

When I got to a branch in the trail, I left my pack for a while in order to scale the last bit of Hopkins Mountain without the added weight.

Based on the advice I received, I was expecting a reasonably nice view from the top, so continued the climb with a bit of eagerness and anticipation.  And then this happened, this opened up in front of me.

Holiest of cows.

This was unexpected.  A stunning… STUNNING… panoramic view of the Great Range.  Pictures can’t do it justice, it was breathtaking!  I felt tiny and huge, a smallish person looking out from the mountain top across the whole world.  So for those of you in Australia that got tired of me whining about how I missed the trees and mountains of home, for those of you who advised me to just go take a walk in the Botanical Gardens… this… this is what I meant.  This is what I was missing.  With the exception of the clearing that you see in the center below, everything else here is wilderness.

Looking to the southwest, the mountains in the distance melted into the sky, the forests went on forever.

I stayed there just soaking it all in for the longest time — I actually don’t know how long because I had turned off my phone and wasn’t wearing a watch, so time had no real meaning on this hike.  I also searched for the trail to Spread Eagle Mountain, but perhaps it was rather unused and overgrown, because I was unable to find it.  When I could tear my eyes away from that view, I soaked up the sun and the breeze, and found lots of blueberries just starting to ripen among the lichens and the moss.

I still had another three miles to go to where I planned to set up camp, so eventually I descended from the peak, took up my pack, and got moving again.  At one point I scared up a pair of grouse protecting their nest, and at another I saw the tracks of deer crossing the trail.  After a couple of more hours, feeling increasingly tired, I came to the lean-to at Giant Mountain.  There may be similar structures elsewhere for the convenience of travelers, but Adirondack lean-tos are a welcoming sight when you’re tired and footsore.  The three sided log structures with a roof and floor, and generally with a  fire ring,  are scattered throughout the mountains, giving hikers shelter without having to actually set up a tent.  I had a tent with me, but was happy to use the lean-to as my camp, and I was the only one there.  In the picture below you can see my sleeping bag laid out, and my pack propped against the wall.

Both nights I spent there were peaceful, with the babble of a brook nearby lulling me to sleep, tired and achy, but content.  I have to admit that the first night I spooked myself a few times early on when my imagination made monsters out of nibbling chipmunks and hooting owls, but by the time I did hear something larger walk by the lean-to, I was already on the edge of sleep.  I hung my food in a tree at night to deter bears, but even if they did come looking for a meal, I was too sound asleep to know.

I did shorter day hikes from this camp to explore the surrounding area, and just generally pottered around in the trees rather aimlessly.  It was a special kind of wonderful to be back after years away, and to find that, in some cases, you can indeed go home again!  I cooked my meals on my camp stove, and had Madura tea in the morning, that I brought with me from Australia.

All my senses were engaged in my exploration.  This area seemed to be very rarely traveled, and I soon found myself covered with spider webs that were stretched across the trail — in fact, I was ticklish with them, there were so many!  In more open areas, the ferns brushed my legs as I walked by.  The scent of juniper and spruce trees, as well as the mouldering leaves of past Autumns was all around me.  The birch bark felt papery under my hands.

Eventually, though, I was getting weary, and running out of food, so needed to make my way back to the trailhead and my patiently waiting Baby Blue.  I spent a bit more time on Hopkins Mountain enjoying the view on the way out.  Actually, it’s possible that I may have fallen asleep there for a while on the sun-warmed rocks of the peak.  I’m a bit of a lizard when it comes to warm rocks!

I don’t know what I’ll find on the rest of my epic journey, but I can’t wait to find out.  I’m so happy that the Adirondacks are still as I remember them, and I know now that I can come back to them when I need to.  The mountains won’t change in my lifetime anyway.  I made my way out to reengage with what we call civilization, reluctant to leave, but eager to continue my trip and find out what comes next!

 

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Aside:  When I was on one of the peaks, I turned on my phone briefly, and found a text telling me that Shuli and Tom had just welcomed their beautiful baby girl into the world.  For a number of reasons, I’m already emotionally attached to little Veronica Rose, so sat on the peak laughing and crying, so happy that she’s come into all of our lives.  Don’t grow up too soon, little girl, but when you’re ready, I have some mountains I’d like to show you…. xx