ALGonquin Bob
Well-known member
The Perfect Winter Weekend
“Thank you… Thank you very much” … is how I jokingly ended my “Upcoming Trips” description, after inviting other hikers to join me and then asking that, in lieu of hiking with me, to please walk up all of those trails the day before I go. As it turned out, I again hiked solo, but there were several groups up there hiking the Lower Range. I began by driving up to Keene Valley, arriving at about 2AM Friday morning. After 3 attempts at getting up the last icy hill before the Garden, I again carefully backed down the one lane portion of that road and spent the next few hours sleeping in my car at the Rooster Comb trailhead.
Friday morning, I drove up to the Garden and made it over that last hill on my first try. Throwing on my pack, I made my way up the familiar trail along Johns Brook toward the ADK’s Johns Brook Lodge, now closed for the winter. There, the trail crosses the brook. I opted to not tempt fate by jumping across a wide gap onto a lower snow bridge, as the previous hikers had done; I found a way around that didn’t have as much risk of beginning my trip knee deep in ice water. I had opted not to carry a tent, because as a solo hiker, I’ve never had a problem finding a spot in a lean-to. I had decided to camp at the OreBed Brook lean-to, and found it empty when I arrived around noon. After leaving some gear in the shelter, I made my way up the OreBed Brook trail.
None of the ladders were visible under the snow, but footing was good with my snowshoes. I finally achieved the top of the trail at the Gothics-Saddleback col. As I took a break to prepare for the final half-mile to Saddleback‘s summit, a small group of hikers approached after descending the cables from the Gothics. They had traversed the lower Great Range from the Wolfjaws, and told of two hikers making very good time going the opposite direction. The group of three descended to their lodging at Grace Camp as I headed toward my own goal. I followed the snowshoe tracks until I began to descend from Saddleback’s first bump. There, the tracks stopped. The two trekkers that broke trail apparently had mistaken the first bump of the saddle for the summit, and turned back just 10 minutes short of the high point. I broke trail to the true summit and looked out at the abyss that greets hikers from the top of Saddleback Mountain. Looking west toward Basin Mountain, I could only see a frighteningly icy rock face that fell off vertically into the clouds that filled the col. I can’t imaging anybody descending that wall in winter conditions. I didn’t even dare step down to the next lower rock level. I’ve climbed that steep wall a few times, but though I still need Basin and Haystack to complete the Winter 46, those two peaks will be attempted from the other direction to avoid dealing with the famous west wall which, in icy conditions, feels to me like the “Nordwand” (aka “Mordwand”) of the Eiger.
After enjoying a windy and chilly reception on the summit, I headed back down the trail in the rapidly fading light. Just brief moments after my post-sunset arrival at the lean-to, I saw a couple headlamps bobbing up the trail. In the deep darkness, I heard cries of joy emanating from two hikers who had hiked in from the Garden via the Brothers and Big Slide Mountain. The three of us shared the shelter that night. I learned that we worked for competitive outdoor recreational businesses: EMS and Gander Mountain. No trade secrets were revealed, and our respective plans for the next day were compared. That night while we lay in our warm bags, the wind blew and snow fell.
Saturday morning, we went our separate ways. They headed up Ore Bed Brook to travel the lower range toward the Wolfjaws, while I hiked down to the junction, then back up to the Wolfjaws lean-to. The trails that had all been broken out on Friday were now snow-covered again. Once I dropped off some of my gear at mid-day, I headed up to trail to revisit Upper Wolfjaw and Armstrong, to see if I could knock a couple more peaks off of my Winter “to do” list. I had met a young couple near the lean-to who were going my way, and we leap-frogged our way breaking trail again as we went up. Because we had begun relatively late in the day, I knew that I’d again be doing lots of hiking by headlamp. Indeed, after walking over the false summit bump of UWJ, we descended a little, climbed again, and reached the top of that peak around sunset.
When I descended into the Wolfjaw-Armstrong col, I found that the other 2 hikers had decided against continuing over Armstrong, and had begun to set up their bivouac among the evergreens. I took a break while we talked a little, and put on my headlamp for the climbing still to come. As darkness fell upon the High Peaks of the Adirondacks, I broke trail onward and upward by myself. The trail corridor was marked well and easy to follow most of the way; navigating under the clear starry sky in the cold air was actually sort of fun. Last year, I began doing my winter treks with a larger pack that includes a sleeping bag. That fact, combined with the knowledge that two people would be in the col sort of waiting for me to return, made the mental aspect a bit easier to handle when I opted to go on alone.
I’m fortunate that the bitter wind was confined to only the open summit, on which I didn’t linger. I think I needed to stop only once to figure out the course, and what I figured out was that the trail went up a steep slope in a large clearing. It was there that I changed into my crampons. About two-thirds of the way up, as I grasped for a handhold on the smooth snowy slope, I uncovered the upper portion of the Armstrong ladder immediately to my left. I was able to kick my points into the hard snow and climbed the remaining 3 or 4 rungs to the top. Soon after that, I found myself standing on the open and very cold summit ledge, with little wooden signs pointing the way toward both Gothics and Upper Wolfjaw peaks.
Descending out of the brisk breeze, I changed back into my snowshoes for the fun slide back down the trail. When I reached the campers in the col, they gave me some of their hot water and I inquired about their plans for the next day. When they said that their itinerary called for continuing over the Range Trail all the way to Haystack, I told them about the precipitous slope on the other side of Saddleback, and asked them more than once not to descend that wall. After offering my unsolicited advice and declining their generous offer to spend the night in their shelter, I headed back the way I had come.
The climb back up to the top of Upper Wolfjaw was much easier than my mind had imagined it, and I quickly found myself in the UWJ saddle. The wind intermittently obscured the footprints that we had made on the way in, but the path was well-marked and easy to follow. From there, it was less than 2 miles back to the lean-to, and nearly all downhill on a moderate slope. That descent felt much easier than what I had done on Friday, and soon I was back at the open shelter for a night of solo sleeping.
Each winter, I find myself trying different clothing options on my upper body, and this weekend I had settled on hiking with only a summer wicking tee and my new Gander Mountain Gore-Tex-Paclite rain jacket. While this was quite comfortable on the trail, I cooled down fast when I stopped, and felt too cold then to bother with my stove. I made a quick change into dry clothing, climbed into my sleeping bag, pulled my emergency bivy cover over me and shivered for a while. A little later, I warmed up and ate my remaining turkey summer sausage and a tasty Hershey bar with almonds. That did the trick, and I slept well all night… except for the mouse or whatever the heck was scampering around after I ate my snack. I swear that one of those times it felt like a Pine Marten was sniffing my face. I didn’t look.
On Sunday, after two nights of winter camping, I packed up and began to hike out. Crossing Johns Brook was easier than it seemed on Friday, and in no time I was at the bottom of the Big Slide trail. I had managed to top out on 3 peaks that weekend, and the fourth was tempting me. I did a little math and figured out that if I went up there and back down the same way (nearly 5 miles RT), I’d be getting back home to Buffalo at around 2 AM. Also, I was a tad tired, had little food, and no hot water. The decision wasn’t a difficult one; I hiked out.
This was my first winter hike of the season, and I had a “Great” time on the lower Great Range. The weather was as good as I had hoped, with plenty of snow on the ground but little in the air. Temperatures were around 20 to 30 all weekend, with very little wind to make that feel colder. Although I didn’t actually travel, hike, or camp with anyone I knew, I was never alone in the mountains. My facetious request for people to “please walk up all of those trails the day before I go” turned out even better than that, as most of the trails were broken out hours or just minutes before I made my way up the hill. I can only hope that my next hike (a group attempt at the Sewards), has anything approaching this much good fortune. Just another “Great” weekend in the Adirondacks….
“Thank you… Thank you very much” … is how I jokingly ended my “Upcoming Trips” description, after inviting other hikers to join me and then asking that, in lieu of hiking with me, to please walk up all of those trails the day before I go. As it turned out, I again hiked solo, but there were several groups up there hiking the Lower Range. I began by driving up to Keene Valley, arriving at about 2AM Friday morning. After 3 attempts at getting up the last icy hill before the Garden, I again carefully backed down the one lane portion of that road and spent the next few hours sleeping in my car at the Rooster Comb trailhead.
Friday morning, I drove up to the Garden and made it over that last hill on my first try. Throwing on my pack, I made my way up the familiar trail along Johns Brook toward the ADK’s Johns Brook Lodge, now closed for the winter. There, the trail crosses the brook. I opted to not tempt fate by jumping across a wide gap onto a lower snow bridge, as the previous hikers had done; I found a way around that didn’t have as much risk of beginning my trip knee deep in ice water. I had opted not to carry a tent, because as a solo hiker, I’ve never had a problem finding a spot in a lean-to. I had decided to camp at the OreBed Brook lean-to, and found it empty when I arrived around noon. After leaving some gear in the shelter, I made my way up the OreBed Brook trail.
None of the ladders were visible under the snow, but footing was good with my snowshoes. I finally achieved the top of the trail at the Gothics-Saddleback col. As I took a break to prepare for the final half-mile to Saddleback‘s summit, a small group of hikers approached after descending the cables from the Gothics. They had traversed the lower Great Range from the Wolfjaws, and told of two hikers making very good time going the opposite direction. The group of three descended to their lodging at Grace Camp as I headed toward my own goal. I followed the snowshoe tracks until I began to descend from Saddleback’s first bump. There, the tracks stopped. The two trekkers that broke trail apparently had mistaken the first bump of the saddle for the summit, and turned back just 10 minutes short of the high point. I broke trail to the true summit and looked out at the abyss that greets hikers from the top of Saddleback Mountain. Looking west toward Basin Mountain, I could only see a frighteningly icy rock face that fell off vertically into the clouds that filled the col. I can’t imaging anybody descending that wall in winter conditions. I didn’t even dare step down to the next lower rock level. I’ve climbed that steep wall a few times, but though I still need Basin and Haystack to complete the Winter 46, those two peaks will be attempted from the other direction to avoid dealing with the famous west wall which, in icy conditions, feels to me like the “Nordwand” (aka “Mordwand”) of the Eiger.
After enjoying a windy and chilly reception on the summit, I headed back down the trail in the rapidly fading light. Just brief moments after my post-sunset arrival at the lean-to, I saw a couple headlamps bobbing up the trail. In the deep darkness, I heard cries of joy emanating from two hikers who had hiked in from the Garden via the Brothers and Big Slide Mountain. The three of us shared the shelter that night. I learned that we worked for competitive outdoor recreational businesses: EMS and Gander Mountain. No trade secrets were revealed, and our respective plans for the next day were compared. That night while we lay in our warm bags, the wind blew and snow fell.
Saturday morning, we went our separate ways. They headed up Ore Bed Brook to travel the lower range toward the Wolfjaws, while I hiked down to the junction, then back up to the Wolfjaws lean-to. The trails that had all been broken out on Friday were now snow-covered again. Once I dropped off some of my gear at mid-day, I headed up to trail to revisit Upper Wolfjaw and Armstrong, to see if I could knock a couple more peaks off of my Winter “to do” list. I had met a young couple near the lean-to who were going my way, and we leap-frogged our way breaking trail again as we went up. Because we had begun relatively late in the day, I knew that I’d again be doing lots of hiking by headlamp. Indeed, after walking over the false summit bump of UWJ, we descended a little, climbed again, and reached the top of that peak around sunset.
When I descended into the Wolfjaw-Armstrong col, I found that the other 2 hikers had decided against continuing over Armstrong, and had begun to set up their bivouac among the evergreens. I took a break while we talked a little, and put on my headlamp for the climbing still to come. As darkness fell upon the High Peaks of the Adirondacks, I broke trail onward and upward by myself. The trail corridor was marked well and easy to follow most of the way; navigating under the clear starry sky in the cold air was actually sort of fun. Last year, I began doing my winter treks with a larger pack that includes a sleeping bag. That fact, combined with the knowledge that two people would be in the col sort of waiting for me to return, made the mental aspect a bit easier to handle when I opted to go on alone.
I’m fortunate that the bitter wind was confined to only the open summit, on which I didn’t linger. I think I needed to stop only once to figure out the course, and what I figured out was that the trail went up a steep slope in a large clearing. It was there that I changed into my crampons. About two-thirds of the way up, as I grasped for a handhold on the smooth snowy slope, I uncovered the upper portion of the Armstrong ladder immediately to my left. I was able to kick my points into the hard snow and climbed the remaining 3 or 4 rungs to the top. Soon after that, I found myself standing on the open and very cold summit ledge, with little wooden signs pointing the way toward both Gothics and Upper Wolfjaw peaks.
Descending out of the brisk breeze, I changed back into my snowshoes for the fun slide back down the trail. When I reached the campers in the col, they gave me some of their hot water and I inquired about their plans for the next day. When they said that their itinerary called for continuing over the Range Trail all the way to Haystack, I told them about the precipitous slope on the other side of Saddleback, and asked them more than once not to descend that wall. After offering my unsolicited advice and declining their generous offer to spend the night in their shelter, I headed back the way I had come.
The climb back up to the top of Upper Wolfjaw was much easier than my mind had imagined it, and I quickly found myself in the UWJ saddle. The wind intermittently obscured the footprints that we had made on the way in, but the path was well-marked and easy to follow. From there, it was less than 2 miles back to the lean-to, and nearly all downhill on a moderate slope. That descent felt much easier than what I had done on Friday, and soon I was back at the open shelter for a night of solo sleeping.
Each winter, I find myself trying different clothing options on my upper body, and this weekend I had settled on hiking with only a summer wicking tee and my new Gander Mountain Gore-Tex-Paclite rain jacket. While this was quite comfortable on the trail, I cooled down fast when I stopped, and felt too cold then to bother with my stove. I made a quick change into dry clothing, climbed into my sleeping bag, pulled my emergency bivy cover over me and shivered for a while. A little later, I warmed up and ate my remaining turkey summer sausage and a tasty Hershey bar with almonds. That did the trick, and I slept well all night… except for the mouse or whatever the heck was scampering around after I ate my snack. I swear that one of those times it felt like a Pine Marten was sniffing my face. I didn’t look.
On Sunday, after two nights of winter camping, I packed up and began to hike out. Crossing Johns Brook was easier than it seemed on Friday, and in no time I was at the bottom of the Big Slide trail. I had managed to top out on 3 peaks that weekend, and the fourth was tempting me. I did a little math and figured out that if I went up there and back down the same way (nearly 5 miles RT), I’d be getting back home to Buffalo at around 2 AM. Also, I was a tad tired, had little food, and no hot water. The decision wasn’t a difficult one; I hiked out.
This was my first winter hike of the season, and I had a “Great” time on the lower Great Range. The weather was as good as I had hoped, with plenty of snow on the ground but little in the air. Temperatures were around 20 to 30 all weekend, with very little wind to make that feel colder. Although I didn’t actually travel, hike, or camp with anyone I knew, I was never alone in the mountains. My facetious request for people to “please walk up all of those trails the day before I go” turned out even better than that, as most of the trails were broken out hours or just minutes before I made my way up the hill. I can only hope that my next hike (a group attempt at the Sewards), has anything approaching this much good fortune. Just another “Great” weekend in the Adirondacks….
