Cascade and Porter

The trail to Cascade.

The first good view.

The last stretch to Cascade's summit.

Not much of a view from up there.


On my way to Porter! Look how happy I am to be hiking.

Porter's anti-climactic summit.

The trail to Keene.

On my way back to the Cascade/Porter intersection.

Summary

October 31st, 2010 I hiked Cascade and Porter from Rt-73. The round trip mileage was 6.2 miles and it took approximately 3.5 hours to complete.

Weather

Cloudy with a high of 38 degrees. Both peaks were immersed in clouds.

Description
Not knowing what kind of conditions to expect in the higher elevations, I decided to do a shorter hike. I brought snowshoes just in case becuase I last time I was in the high peaks, I had to turn back due to heavier than expected snow. I slept in becuase I'm lazy and didn't get to the trailhead until quarter after noon. I thought about dressing as a white tail deer for Halloween but then I remembered that I promised by girlfriend I'd be careful.

I started up Cascade and the trail quickly became a mud pit. As I continued the trail became more of a slushy and there was more and more snow. There were a few downed trees across the trail and I thought about trying to move one of them but then I remembered that I promised by girlfriend that I'd be careful.

I ran into half a dozen groups on my way up. All of them had microspikes accept for one and they were visibly upset trying to make their way back down over the icy rocks. There were lots of dogs and as usual, it was mostly French Canadians out hiking. Either they're really outdoorsy or Americans are just lazy.

By the time I got to the turnoff for Porter, there were snow drifts over a foot high. I thought about testing one but then I remembered that I promised my girlfriend I'd be careful. When I got above tree line on Cascade, I felt like I was on Mt. Everest. It was really windy, the summit was covered in ice and snow. I don't do much winter hiking but it was a lot of fun.

I shared the summit when a French Canadian couple. After we offered to take each other's pictures, we headed back down. There was one steep ledge on the way down where I had to slide on my butt. The woman behind me stopped at the ledge and said something to her hiking partner in French. After his response, she said "that's the best way?" and pointed to me, as if she was unconvinced.

When in doubt, butt slide.

I got back to the intersection with Porter and this time went the other way. I was surprised how flat the trail was. It was the easiest time I've ever had of hiking one of the high peaks. I had the trail all to myself and I was happily bopping along. I was surprised when I came to the summit. I hardly had to go uphill at all and it was just a little outcrop of rocks surrounded by trees. Again, no view but it was even more windy than Cascade. I could feel the snow sticking to my beard.

On the way back to Cascade I could hear a tree hissing and cracking as if it was about to fall over under the weight of the snow. I thought it would be really cool if I got video of myself karate chopping it down but then I remembered that I promised by girlfriend I would be careful.

I was again bopping along carelessly when I heard heavy footsteps and loud grunting noises coming down the trail towards me. I stopped and waited to see what was about to come around the corner and thought what it waste it was to be so careful only to end up being a bears last snack before hibernation. But it turned out just to be a really enthusiastic Canadian.

The rest of the hike was rather uneventful. The further I went, the clearer the sky went and the quieter the wind got. It got to be really peaceful and there was no noise at all. At one point I was romping down the trail and I came around a corner to see a wide eyed hiker stopped in his tracks. Maybe he's scared of bears too.

46er Peak #1 - Mt. Marcy

I did not know it at the time, but Mt. Marcy the highest point in New York, is the most common peak for aspiring 46er's to hike first. Of course, had I known I would attempt to hike the 46 highest peaks in the Adirondacks, I may have done things differently. Back in July, I hiked Marcy in order to train for a section hike of the Applachian Trail. It was a beautiful 60 degree day, perfect weather for hiking.I set out from the Adirondack Loj around 10am because I'm lazy and I don't like waking up early. Seems strange to go about hiking the highest mountain in the state in a lazy way, but it makes sense to me and it was my trip. From the Loj, I would hike the Van Hoevenberg trail - a 14.8 mile round trip with 3166 feet of elevation gain.

I begin the hike in my normal speedy fashion, bouncing over the trail mud, roots and all. But I have an uneasy feeling about the trail beginning by going downhill. Every foot of elevation I'm losing will have to be made up later. There's a boardwalk through a swamp and a relatively flat, uneventful 2.3 mile hike to the Marcy Dam. At the dam, there are beautiful views of Mt. Colden, scarred by it's telltale slide and the 50 year old wooden dam itself. The Marcy Brook has been dammed for over a century, but the previous dams were temporary and were used to hold back water that would be used to float lumber down stream to mills.



From the dam, the path meanders up through the path the Phelps Brook carved to the south of Phelps Mt. The trail is muddy, then rocky, then muddy and rocky. The woods around the trail are quite thick, giving everything a dark spooky feel. You really feel as if you are in the middle of a great, inhospitable wilderness. It brought to mind the origin of the word Adirondack. It was originally a derogatory term used by Mohawk speaking people to describe Algonquin speaking people who sometimes forced into the area by more powerful tribes around them. It means roughly "those who eat trees", which is a reference to how living in the Adirondack area was often so harsh that those who did it would be reduced to eating tree bark for sustenance.



At last the trail crosses the Phelps brook and then ascends a stairway of boulders and muddy switch backs. Every 15 minutes or so I let out a little whistle because I'm a quiet thinker when I'm hiking and I don't want any bears to stumble across me. I know it's extremely rare to be injured by a black bear and I've seen firsthand how clumsy and skiddish they tend to be around people. I know my fear isn't rational, but the bears in the Adirondacks are really sneaky. They open the bear proof canisters meant to baffle them and they swim marathon distances out to islands where unsuspecting campers thought they didn't need to hang up their food. Maybe they're tired of eating the bark off trees.


So I whistle, mile after mile, mind wandering in the woods. I bumble on by the sign that says something about severe weather and not proceeding beyond this point without proper something or other... blah, blah (just kidding, I really do take being prepared quite seriously). And after a long, muddy walk I am rewarded with my life blood - the view from above tree line. I stop to admire the view and I'm filled with a rush of adrenaline. Good thing too - I get a view of the summit and an filled with the realization of how far I still have to go. The last 0.6 miles is a scramble which resembles rock climbing more than hiking in some parts.


But past the scramble, I'm again rewarded with serene views. The wind and the large flat surfaces give one the feeling that they're on top the world - or perhaps the moon. The views don't look real. They look like the surface of a raised globe with colors painted on. The view from the top of New York is beautiful.


The trip down is uneventful. I stop once in a clearing in order to take off the wool cap and jacket which I adorned for the windy summit. I then hike the 5 or so miles back down to the dam without stopping to rest once. At the dam I enjoy some home made jerky and drink my last bit of water. I look back to see the high peaks are now completely socked in by clouds. Had I been a few hours late, I wouldn't have seen anything from the summit. Eager to get to my car where I have more water waiting for me, I practically jog the last 2 miles, passing multiple groups of hikers. One asks where I'm headed from and when I tell him "Marcy" he says, "long day, huh?" It rains on and off but I make it to my car before it really starts coming down and I'm on my way home. The entire trip took just over 9 hours, including the time I spent at the top admiring the view.