Zer0-G
New member
The day started out nicely. St. Huberts, parking area, across from the Giant parking area on Rt. 73. It was 8 AM, warm, partly cloudy with a 50% cloud cover.
The sun was streaming down in fragments through the trees as I alone approached the gate between the tennis courts. I discussed my route with the Ranger on duty and told him I would not stray from my planned route. He warned of impending thunderstorms and wished me a good day. Later on, as I crossed the dam by Lower Ausable Lake, I felt fortunate, knowing it was Friday, that I would have the trail mostly to myself all day. My goal, a simple one. Over Gothics to Saddleback and Basin, return over Saddleback and Gothics, over to Sawteeh and back down to the parking area.
I arrived at the trail junction in a light drizzle with the signs indicating Gothics, 1 mi., 1200’ elevation that-a-way and Sawteeth, 0.5 mi, 500’ elevation this-a-way. Onwards to Gothics. Now, Gothics is one of my favorite peaks, it has not treated me kindly in the past and still it holds a special place in my heart. I have yet to be on top of Gothics with the sun shining and today was no different.
As I climb, the intensity of the rain increases. At the summit, a deluge! I look into the distance and all I see is a thick gray mass of swirling clouds and driving rain. For me, this is a typical day on Gothics. I continue down the bare rock face towards Saddleback. Slick, to say the least. Progress is not easy as I descend. I notice that I am no longer on my feet, but sliding down the bare rock face, towards a small boulder and a thicket of small bushes and trees. Twenty feet later I notice the long scrapes on my right calf and thigh. Shaken and tremendously relieved, I sit and think. Staring off into nothing worthy of noting save the swirling clouds and driving rain, I take a moment and acknowledge the majesty of the mountains and the supreme indifference that is ever present and pressing on my mind. I remember something someone said to me many years ago. “Y’know, those mountains, they just don’t care.” I contemplate turning back. I sit. I think. I notice the deluge sparing pardon. The clouds part ever so gently. An offering. A view from the top. A fleeting moment of something much larger than myself. I decide to move forward descending the cables and onward to Saddleback.
Conditions improving ever so slightly the descent down Saddleback’s infamous rock face held me breathless and suspended in the imagination of one false step. The gently falling rain providing a calming backdrop for the negotiation of life and limb between the fortress of Saddleback and my mortality proved stark and moving. Finally, I was granted safe passage and good wishes for a pleasant stroll to Basin.
As is always the case, a mountain refuses no boot sole passage if you dare. As was the case on my return trip over Saddleback. The rain, in varying intensities has been my constant companion now for 3 hours and having welcomed its coolness and refreshing effect on this otherwise warm day I am peacefully enjoying this time.
Saddleback has invited me once again in its peculiar and intimate manner into its magical mountainous majesty. I am beginning the ascent of its infamous rock face.
Shortly I find myself between a rock and a no-place as I sit precariously on a small rock out crop halfway up. Up a few feet and I’m all dressed with nowhere to go. Down and up a few feet in another direction, thwarted intentions abound. Back to the small rock that has become my momentary best friend. Again, I sit and think. I am in the best place and no place simultaneously. I see the perfect little foothold and accompanying hand hold to the right if I can only get my left foot over to it. If I miss, I slide for who knows how far.
I ease my self off to a small ledge 3 feet down and 5 feet below the foothold. I pile up four shoebox sized rocks. With my improvised step stool waiting I think of my family and how lucky I am to have them with me now. I mount the improvised step stool. I stand there, taking a few deep breaths……I jump up……..I grab the hand hold and hold on. Letting go is not an option any more. One breath, two breaths and a third, with all of my strength I pull myself up. Blindly my foot is scanning for the foot hold. YES! Boot sole don’t fail me now! Up I go. Rolling over loosening my pack, taking a long drink, enjoying being alive. Lying there now on Saddleback’s bare rock face, with the now gentle rain cooling my face, trembling. I know how lucky I am. I will think about that for the remainder of my day and long into the next.
Up over Gothics, again, still no view. My favorite peak, still a stranger, still foreboding, still brooding. Gothics. I love that rainy peak. I love these rainy days.
On to Sawteeth with an accompanying break in the weather, I stand near its summit and look back at Gothics and Saddleback and Basin. One by one. Set in a wonderful gray backdrop. They look beautiful. I think of how I know them better now and still know nothing of their true nature. I can only live the experience of their indifference and joy of our contact and appreciate the gift they gave to me today.
4:30 PM. At the gate, the sun was beginning to break through. The gate looks the same as it did earlier this morning. The Ranger notices me signing out, he steps out side of the cabin and asks me how my day was. I replied “I had a great day – rainy and great”. He looked at my leg – and looked slightly puzzled. I said, “great, really, great – See ya next time”
The sun was streaming down in fragments through the trees as I alone approached the gate between the tennis courts. I discussed my route with the Ranger on duty and told him I would not stray from my planned route. He warned of impending thunderstorms and wished me a good day. Later on, as I crossed the dam by Lower Ausable Lake, I felt fortunate, knowing it was Friday, that I would have the trail mostly to myself all day. My goal, a simple one. Over Gothics to Saddleback and Basin, return over Saddleback and Gothics, over to Sawteeh and back down to the parking area.
I arrived at the trail junction in a light drizzle with the signs indicating Gothics, 1 mi., 1200’ elevation that-a-way and Sawteeth, 0.5 mi, 500’ elevation this-a-way. Onwards to Gothics. Now, Gothics is one of my favorite peaks, it has not treated me kindly in the past and still it holds a special place in my heart. I have yet to be on top of Gothics with the sun shining and today was no different.
As I climb, the intensity of the rain increases. At the summit, a deluge! I look into the distance and all I see is a thick gray mass of swirling clouds and driving rain. For me, this is a typical day on Gothics. I continue down the bare rock face towards Saddleback. Slick, to say the least. Progress is not easy as I descend. I notice that I am no longer on my feet, but sliding down the bare rock face, towards a small boulder and a thicket of small bushes and trees. Twenty feet later I notice the long scrapes on my right calf and thigh. Shaken and tremendously relieved, I sit and think. Staring off into nothing worthy of noting save the swirling clouds and driving rain, I take a moment and acknowledge the majesty of the mountains and the supreme indifference that is ever present and pressing on my mind. I remember something someone said to me many years ago. “Y’know, those mountains, they just don’t care.” I contemplate turning back. I sit. I think. I notice the deluge sparing pardon. The clouds part ever so gently. An offering. A view from the top. A fleeting moment of something much larger than myself. I decide to move forward descending the cables and onward to Saddleback.
Conditions improving ever so slightly the descent down Saddleback’s infamous rock face held me breathless and suspended in the imagination of one false step. The gently falling rain providing a calming backdrop for the negotiation of life and limb between the fortress of Saddleback and my mortality proved stark and moving. Finally, I was granted safe passage and good wishes for a pleasant stroll to Basin.
As is always the case, a mountain refuses no boot sole passage if you dare. As was the case on my return trip over Saddleback. The rain, in varying intensities has been my constant companion now for 3 hours and having welcomed its coolness and refreshing effect on this otherwise warm day I am peacefully enjoying this time.
Saddleback has invited me once again in its peculiar and intimate manner into its magical mountainous majesty. I am beginning the ascent of its infamous rock face.
Shortly I find myself between a rock and a no-place as I sit precariously on a small rock out crop halfway up. Up a few feet and I’m all dressed with nowhere to go. Down and up a few feet in another direction, thwarted intentions abound. Back to the small rock that has become my momentary best friend. Again, I sit and think. I am in the best place and no place simultaneously. I see the perfect little foothold and accompanying hand hold to the right if I can only get my left foot over to it. If I miss, I slide for who knows how far.
I ease my self off to a small ledge 3 feet down and 5 feet below the foothold. I pile up four shoebox sized rocks. With my improvised step stool waiting I think of my family and how lucky I am to have them with me now. I mount the improvised step stool. I stand there, taking a few deep breaths……I jump up……..I grab the hand hold and hold on. Letting go is not an option any more. One breath, two breaths and a third, with all of my strength I pull myself up. Blindly my foot is scanning for the foot hold. YES! Boot sole don’t fail me now! Up I go. Rolling over loosening my pack, taking a long drink, enjoying being alive. Lying there now on Saddleback’s bare rock face, with the now gentle rain cooling my face, trembling. I know how lucky I am. I will think about that for the remainder of my day and long into the next.
Up over Gothics, again, still no view. My favorite peak, still a stranger, still foreboding, still brooding. Gothics. I love that rainy peak. I love these rainy days.
On to Sawteeth with an accompanying break in the weather, I stand near its summit and look back at Gothics and Saddleback and Basin. One by one. Set in a wonderful gray backdrop. They look beautiful. I think of how I know them better now and still know nothing of their true nature. I can only live the experience of their indifference and joy of our contact and appreciate the gift they gave to me today.
4:30 PM. At the gate, the sun was beginning to break through. The gate looks the same as it did earlier this morning. The Ranger notices me signing out, he steps out side of the cabin and asks me how my day was. I replied “I had a great day – rainy and great”. He looked at my leg – and looked slightly puzzled. I said, “great, really, great – See ya next time”
