Dugan
New member
along with me (Dugan's human companion) and Cantdog, ably guided by Pete Hickey (sans axe)
(please accept in advance my apologies for misspellings of Adirondacks place names as I have neither a guidebook nor map with which to look these things up)
When I found out mid-week last week that Cantdog planned a trip to the Adirondacks for this weekend I shamelessly begged for not only me, but Dugan four-legs as well, to join her. Luckily for Dugan, Cantdog's name does not imply anything about her attitude toward dogs, and she agreed. After many emails we finally established plans and were on our way west Friday evening. Following Pete's advice, we did not pack snowshoes. Dugan was disappointed when I told him there wouldn't be much snow. He perked up upon learning that the 'dacks are infamous for their mud (like any furry white dog, he especially enjoys a good filthy wallow).
We missed hooking up with Pete Friday night, but his timing was impeccable as he found us in the parking lot just leaving the motel to go to the trail head. Off we went following Pete, with the goal of bagging Donaldson, Emmons, and Seward. We started off up the dirt road at 6:30 am. Much to Dugan's delight and Cantdog's disgust, we soon found mud. As we walked the dirt road, Pete Hickey pointed out trail work his son was involved with this summer, also explaining the logistics of it. Sounds tough!
We reached a stone culvert, then the cairn that marked the turn off for the herd path. The brook crossing was fun since some of the rocks were ice coated. Though it seems anti-logical, it was actually safer to step on rocks that were slightly under the water since they were grippier. I especially enjoyed the open forest on our way up to the ridge line. We eventually reached an area with thicker trees, tricky rocks, and blowdowns, some of which Dugan four-legs needed help to negotiate.
We eventually gained the ridge line, then continued along to a view point on Donaldson. Somewhere along the way there was a nice view of a rocky knob that is part of Seward. During this time, Pete Hickey made the call that we would tag the summit of Emmons first because I've never hiked in the 'dacks before and no one picks Emmons as their first summit anymore. We started traversing over, encountering yet more mud - Dugan had mud-sickles hanging from his belly fur! We reached a point where Dugan could've gotten down an iced rock, but may not have been able to get back up, even with everyone helping. After some quick discussion, we decided that Pete and Cantdog would continue to Emmons, and that Dugan and I would retrace our steps.
Normally I would object to breaking up a group, and also to someone who is not familiar with an area striking out on their own. However, there was an inch or three of snow, so I felt safe in assuming I could get back to the car following both the tracks and the herd path. Before descending off the ridge, I was caught and passed by Phil from VT who'd passed us on the way up. On the way in, our tracks diverged around an obstacle. On the way out, when I reached where the tracks merged, I turned the wrong way, making a small circle. I quickly recognized a log Dugan squirmed under just a few seconds ago as Phil pointed out my error. Why is it <blush> that these things only happen when there's a witness?
Phil pointed out the herd path of Seward for me, and brought me out again to the Donaldson view point. After beginning the descent off the ridge, he soon pulled quickly ahead of us. I enjoyed our solo (does it count as solo with a dog?) descent. The sky was blue, the sun shining, the birds singing, very nice. There were a couple of places where the snow melted that I had to look around carefully to make sure I was still on the herd path, but we had no problems. I eventually stopped to add a shell layer and swap out to my third pair of handcoverings. Even though the sky was blue, I was soaked through and squishing due to the snow melting out of the trees combined with the occasional misstep into puddles.
We reached the now much easier and non-icy stream crossing and quickly regained the road. Upon reaching it, I couldn't remember which way to turn! It seemed to me it should be right, but that went up hill and I remembered the road walk in as being mostly up hill. Dugan hit a strong track to the right, so we went that way despite my misgivings. I looked at my watch thinking that if we walked for 15 minutes without reaching the stone culvert, I'd turn around and go the other way. sure enough, after 14 minutes, we reached the culvert, 'phew! We made it back to the car with no further confusion. I stopped along the way for a much-cursed fall in the mud. It wouldn't have been bad to fall once, but upon getting up I fell again... got up a second time and fell a THIRD time (more cursing), third time proved to be the charm as I stayed on my feet.
By the time we reached the car, Dugan was again black from the chest down to the ground. From the chest up, he had miscellaneous dirt mushed into his fur from squirming under blow downs. He looked quite pleased with himself... and his 'dacks mud odor. We signed out of the register to assure Pete that we were safe, and returned to the motel.
I had a wonderful time and look forward to hiking in the Adirondacks in the future. Since all her gear was soaked, Cantdog decided instead of hiking today that we'd have a leisurely drive home. It proved to be very nice. We stopped along the way for various viewing areas where Cantdog pointed out various peaks and landmarks. One of the peaks whose name I don't remember appeared to have several intriguing possiblities for slide hikes. We also stopped in MA at the Natural Bridge on route 8 north of route 2 for a relaxing stroll. If you're ever in the neighborhood, it's well worth the effort. The marble rock formations are very interesting, as are the statues in the park near the visitor's center at the top of the hill.
Our one disappointment was the mud... I've heard so many tales about the various qualities of 'dacks mud and relayed them all to Dugan four-legs who is a mud connoisseur. Dugan enjoyed his on trail mud wallows a great deal, but I think he was hoping that they would be bigger, deeper, blacker, and stinkier!
Cantdog and Pete reached the motel later for a informal in-the-room snacks, dinner, beer, and homebrew (sorry Pete!) but the rest of the hike is their story.... stay tuned....
(please accept in advance my apologies for misspellings of Adirondacks place names as I have neither a guidebook nor map with which to look these things up)
When I found out mid-week last week that Cantdog planned a trip to the Adirondacks for this weekend I shamelessly begged for not only me, but Dugan four-legs as well, to join her. Luckily for Dugan, Cantdog's name does not imply anything about her attitude toward dogs, and she agreed. After many emails we finally established plans and were on our way west Friday evening. Following Pete's advice, we did not pack snowshoes. Dugan was disappointed when I told him there wouldn't be much snow. He perked up upon learning that the 'dacks are infamous for their mud (like any furry white dog, he especially enjoys a good filthy wallow).
We missed hooking up with Pete Friday night, but his timing was impeccable as he found us in the parking lot just leaving the motel to go to the trail head. Off we went following Pete, with the goal of bagging Donaldson, Emmons, and Seward. We started off up the dirt road at 6:30 am. Much to Dugan's delight and Cantdog's disgust, we soon found mud. As we walked the dirt road, Pete Hickey pointed out trail work his son was involved with this summer, also explaining the logistics of it. Sounds tough!
We reached a stone culvert, then the cairn that marked the turn off for the herd path. The brook crossing was fun since some of the rocks were ice coated. Though it seems anti-logical, it was actually safer to step on rocks that were slightly under the water since they were grippier. I especially enjoyed the open forest on our way up to the ridge line. We eventually reached an area with thicker trees, tricky rocks, and blowdowns, some of which Dugan four-legs needed help to negotiate.
We eventually gained the ridge line, then continued along to a view point on Donaldson. Somewhere along the way there was a nice view of a rocky knob that is part of Seward. During this time, Pete Hickey made the call that we would tag the summit of Emmons first because I've never hiked in the 'dacks before and no one picks Emmons as their first summit anymore. We started traversing over, encountering yet more mud - Dugan had mud-sickles hanging from his belly fur! We reached a point where Dugan could've gotten down an iced rock, but may not have been able to get back up, even with everyone helping. After some quick discussion, we decided that Pete and Cantdog would continue to Emmons, and that Dugan and I would retrace our steps.
Normally I would object to breaking up a group, and also to someone who is not familiar with an area striking out on their own. However, there was an inch or three of snow, so I felt safe in assuming I could get back to the car following both the tracks and the herd path. Before descending off the ridge, I was caught and passed by Phil from VT who'd passed us on the way up. On the way in, our tracks diverged around an obstacle. On the way out, when I reached where the tracks merged, I turned the wrong way, making a small circle. I quickly recognized a log Dugan squirmed under just a few seconds ago as Phil pointed out my error. Why is it <blush> that these things only happen when there's a witness?
Phil pointed out the herd path of Seward for me, and brought me out again to the Donaldson view point. After beginning the descent off the ridge, he soon pulled quickly ahead of us. I enjoyed our solo (does it count as solo with a dog?) descent. The sky was blue, the sun shining, the birds singing, very nice. There were a couple of places where the snow melted that I had to look around carefully to make sure I was still on the herd path, but we had no problems. I eventually stopped to add a shell layer and swap out to my third pair of handcoverings. Even though the sky was blue, I was soaked through and squishing due to the snow melting out of the trees combined with the occasional misstep into puddles.
We reached the now much easier and non-icy stream crossing and quickly regained the road. Upon reaching it, I couldn't remember which way to turn! It seemed to me it should be right, but that went up hill and I remembered the road walk in as being mostly up hill. Dugan hit a strong track to the right, so we went that way despite my misgivings. I looked at my watch thinking that if we walked for 15 minutes without reaching the stone culvert, I'd turn around and go the other way. sure enough, after 14 minutes, we reached the culvert, 'phew! We made it back to the car with no further confusion. I stopped along the way for a much-cursed fall in the mud. It wouldn't have been bad to fall once, but upon getting up I fell again... got up a second time and fell a THIRD time (more cursing), third time proved to be the charm as I stayed on my feet.
By the time we reached the car, Dugan was again black from the chest down to the ground. From the chest up, he had miscellaneous dirt mushed into his fur from squirming under blow downs. He looked quite pleased with himself... and his 'dacks mud odor. We signed out of the register to assure Pete that we were safe, and returned to the motel.
I had a wonderful time and look forward to hiking in the Adirondacks in the future. Since all her gear was soaked, Cantdog decided instead of hiking today that we'd have a leisurely drive home. It proved to be very nice. We stopped along the way for various viewing areas where Cantdog pointed out various peaks and landmarks. One of the peaks whose name I don't remember appeared to have several intriguing possiblities for slide hikes. We also stopped in MA at the Natural Bridge on route 8 north of route 2 for a relaxing stroll. If you're ever in the neighborhood, it's well worth the effort. The marble rock formations are very interesting, as are the statues in the park near the visitor's center at the top of the hill.
Our one disappointment was the mud... I've heard so many tales about the various qualities of 'dacks mud and relayed them all to Dugan four-legs who is a mud connoisseur. Dugan enjoyed his on trail mud wallows a great deal, but I think he was hoping that they would be bigger, deeper, blacker, and stinkier!
Cantdog and Pete reached the motel later for a informal in-the-room snacks, dinner, beer, and homebrew (sorry Pete!) but the rest of the hike is their story.... stay tuned....
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