Assorted Dayhikes (2022)

1. Tongue Mountain on Lake George

With a week off for spring break, I made plans to do some hiking and visit my mom. The weather wasn't entirely cooperative, though, so I didn't get in as much hiking as I'd hoped. But I did get in some, starting with Tongue Mountain, which is on a peninsula that sticks down into Lake George.

After the hike, I went to Saratoga Springs for the night. In addition to a good barbecue at PJ's BAR-B-QSA, the casino's nightclub Vapor had good ratings and descriptions of a friendly, mixed clientelle. It did indeed, and even opened at a reasonable hour. I had a good time dancing at the 80's-themed night.

2. Harlem Valley Rail Trail

Although I'd planned to hike Saturday, the weather report kept alleging rain, and I even hit a few sprinkles as I headed south. I put off the hike and went to mom's. I probably should have hiked, because it turned out to be a gorgeous day with little rain.

But neither me nor mom sit still well, so Monday we got out bikes and explored a recently more-completed section of the Harlem Valley Rail Trail north of Millerton.

3. Brace Mountain and Mt. Frissell

Tuesday's weather report indicated nice weather, but did the opposite of Saturday. It wasn't clearing up or warming up as I climbed, and eventually stopped fooling around and got on with the raining and snowing.

Although unimpressed with my recently-acquired Cat S62 phone's camera, the phone handled the crappy weather with no issue.

The hike done, I drive up the road to Bash Bish falls, where I walked a bit more.

4. Chittenango Falls

The weather wasn't looking great for the rest of the week, so I headed back to Rochester via the scenic US-20, hoping to hit a few waterfalls along the way. Judd's Falls wasn't accessible with the amount of snow on the ground. Foxes Falls was posted closed and private property, so that was a bust too. Button Falls didn't seem to be much of anything, and was also clearly on private property where the owner didn't appreciate sightseers.

Chittenango Falls, however, made up for these.

5. Black Bear Mountain, Eagle Bay, NY

Last year, at the end of my walkabout, I considered foregoing the bike ride in favor of some hikes. I am still hoping to fit in a ride in the autumn, a time when I've not toured much, because I'd like to see the beauty of the leaf season.

But having finally fought off a recent round of coronavirus, today I am indeed in the Adirondacks doing some car camping and day hikes. I'm stationed at Eighth Lake Campground, located between Inlet and Racquette Lake, where there was a nice sunset last night.

Today I hiked up to Black Bear Mountain using the convenient trail network connected to the campground. Along the way I passed Bug Pond, which didn't live up to its name since it's not blackfly season. I think the round-trip trek was about 9 miles (14km) or so.

On the way back I ran into a guy named Dave from Marcy (near Utica) who had also hiked up Black Bear from Eight Lake Campground, so we walked back together. He's retired now but also worked in tech back in the day, doing IT stuff for Utica Bank. Nice guy.

I made a hamburg when I got back to the campsite, something I never make when biking because I have no way of preserving fresh meat.

It's sort of threatening rain at the moment, feeling cooler than yesterday. I should go get a shower and checkout from the trail log, which I failed to do when I passed it.

Tomorrow I'll be moving to Golden Horseshoe Campsite on Racquette Lake, and plan to take on Blue Mountain, which allegedly has a fire tower on it.

6. Blue Mountain & Castle Rock, Blue Mountain Lake, NY

I am currently writing this to try to distract myself from a ravenous feeling. My food has 5 more minutes.

Today I hiked up Blue Mountain, which does indeed have a fire tower atop with spectacular 360 degree views. The hike was described as "challenging" which seems about right; although it was only 2.4 miles each way, it was rocky and parts were kind of steep.

After coming down from that I got some ice cream in Blue Mountain Lake and moved onto Castle Rock, taking the long side of the loop route on my way in, which was still only like 1.2 miles. It was a nice walk in the woods with gentle inclines, until the very end where there was a steep climb to the vista. The vista there was also very nice. The return trip via the more direct front path was much steeper and tougher, but was under a mile. In total I think it was under 2½ miles.

While writing this, eating of my finally-ready food was delayed a few minutes because a sudden rainstorm moved in from the east. After eating in the car (you're not supposed to eat in the tent in case the smell attracts bears), I'm now finishing this up while the rain passes by.

I'm at Golden Beach on Racquette Lake. I stayed here in 2018, taking a short day before embarking on a day of sand and gravel hell. I remember there being some ankle-biting bastards here, which I figured might have been the last remnants of the black flies that year.

Well, the bastards are still here mid-August, so they're not black flies, and they still go for ankles. I put on some loose pants to keep them away, and sure enough no more problem. All I'm wearing up top is a sports bra, but my arms, shoulders and back aren't ankles so they aren't of interest. How... odd. I wonder what survival benefit this evolved behavior has.

7. Bald Mountain & Fire Tower, Eagle Bay, NY

Today's was a fairly fast trek to the Bald Mountain firetower and back, followed by the drive home. The tower provided nice views of the Fulton chain lakes, and the forests in all directions.

8. Hadley Mountain & Firetower

Returning to the Adirondacks after some rest, errands, and visiting family I attacked Hadley Mountain near Lake Luzerne. It has a fire tower and a view of Great Sacandaga Lake.

On the way back down, someone coming up advised me of a fawn and mother hanging out by the trail just ahead. I tried to stay quiet as I continue down, and sure enough, they were a little way off the trail grazing in the forest. They didn't mind that I stopped and watched them a while. They must be accustomed to humans on the trail.

Tonight I'm at Donnelley Beach at Minerva Lake, which I stayed at during my 2018 walkabout. It's still very nice, and they have a little snack shack, which is good because the meat for dinner is still frozen solid in my cooler. More meat for tomorrow!

I've been using Hiking Project's maps and software. It can download map sets to be used offline, although terrain maps are dependent on Google Maps (at least on Android) which often relies on a connection. Their search feature is a bit discombobulating, the list refreshing as it collects and sorts search results, but the maps and data seem good.

9. Moxham Mountain, and visiting Tahawus & Adirondac

After a nice night at the campground in Minerva, I packed up and drove to the nearby trailhead. The trail was a nice easy one, with a few different views along the way.

Returning to the car, I drove the short distance back to the beach/campground, where I took a dip in the water to cool off and de-sweat.

Next I headed north to explore somewhere I've wanted to see: Tahawus and Adirondac. From Newcomb, which is pretty much the middle of nowhere, go about 8 miles up a dead-end road with pretty much nothing on it to get to Tahawus, where there's a quarry, then another 6 miles to get to Adirondac, a ghosttown.

There isn't much left: a few stone blast furnaces, some brick chimneys, and one building: the MacNaughton cottage, the one Vice President Theodore Roosevelt was staying in when President McKinkley was shot. And, as we all know, Teddy went on to be one of our greatest presidents, giving us the first of the national parks. That bit of history is apparently enough to justify a little maintenance on the old cottage.

Teddy was, incidentally, a Republican. And the Ken Burns film on the Roosevelts is worth it.

Anyhow, Adirondac was originally a mining town, going after the iron ore that was there. It was tough getting started because it was so remote. Later, during the heydey of mountain houses and "clubs", it became a club town. In its last iteration around the 1950s, it became the housing for the re-opened mine in Tahawus. This time the mine went after Titanium, which had been considered an impurity in the original iron mines. It was all abandoned in the 1960s, although there's a gravel yard at Tahawus again.

Now it's just a curious bit of history and a lot of trailheads; a sort of "back door" to the high peaks.

Somewhere along the way, my car's brakes became quirky, initially engaging with the pedal but then squishing to the floor with a spongy feeling that required I pump them to get braking force again. Thankfully, I drive stick and my dad absolutely drilled proper following distance into me, so I made it to tonight's campground using engine braking and care. I topped up the brake fluid in North Hudson, but that doesn't seem to have cured it.

10. Poke-O-Moonshine

So today was a hell of a day, but everything has worked out.

After a restless sleep I woke to rain around 6, gave up trying to fall back to sleep about 6:30 and got up, packed up everything even though I'd reserved the site another night—I wasn't sure what the outcome of the car repair would be or if I'd be able to get back. Then I began limping the car with, well, basically no service brakes left, just engine braking and the emergency brake.

I headed south toward Schroon Lake because it's less hilly than north, seemed more populated, and also moved closer to home in case I needed a rescue. D&L Automotive a little south of Schroon Lake village couldn't help me, so I continued south to Pottersville, where I arrived a few minutes before Pottersville Garage (Adirondack naming—nice and straightforward) opened at 8.

They put me in the work queue, so I went and got breakfast at Black Bear Diner where I met the owner of Pottersville Garage, Roger Peet, and we got talking. Afterward, we went over to a nearby building where he has a number of family "toy vehicles". He's very proud of the 1951 Hudson.

I went back to the garage and waited, working on some Dutch lessons to pass the time. The owner came by, and suggested I try a nearby hike while waiting—but while wrapping up a lesson, I began hearing thunder and thought better of it. I moved inside the waiting area, switching to reading Dutch so I wouldn't disturb the lady that runs the place by babbling in a foreign language.

They finally got to the car around 11:30, and it was a straightforward repair, but still took 2 hours, so $300 in total. While they were working on it I went back to the Black Bear for lunch.

Back at the campground, I put up my tent then hit the road again for the Poke-O-Moonshine trailhead. It seemed like it was clearing up until I arrived, when it started drizzling and soon was raining steadily and occasionally thundering as I climbed. I hoped by the time I got to the top it might let up. And boy did it.

I arrived at the firetower about 6, and had about a half-hour before I needed to start back down to beat the sunset. I spent about 15 minutes on the tower, watching the views as the clouds and light changed. It was spectacular.

11. Jay Mountain

After a better night's rest and a good breakfast (pancakes, bacon, orange juice and hot chocolate), I got a bit of a late start heading off to Jay Mountain. It was another schlepp, because nothing is close around here. I've been spoiled by Rochester. I've put almost 200 miles on the car in the last 2 days, just going to get it serviced, going to a trail head, going to another trailhead.

Anyhow, the hike was longer than I've been doing, about 3.5 or 4 miles one way, so about 7 or 8 miles in total. There was more hill too, about 2200ft of climb instead of the 1300ft for the fire towers the last few days. It took a little over 6 hours, or closer to 8 if you include driving. I think I'm getting drivinged out.

After returning to the campground, a neighbor camper, Pia, came to ask if she could borrow a corkscrew—something I have, for some reason, in my car camping kit. I was already making dinner, but got invited to eat with them.

Pia and Jimmy are up from New York City just for the weekend. Today they got on the trail early, 6 AM, to hike up Mount Marcy. They completed it in about 10 hours. I gather Jimmy is retired so he spends a lot of time hiking up here.

They were having some authentic Korean food for dinner. Probably beat my foil dinner of onions, potatoes, carrots and ground beef, but after enough hiking any food tastes good. And after enough time hiking in solitude, socializing is extra pleasant.

Tomorrow I move on to Meadowbrook campground between Lake Placid and Saranac Lake. I'm really sick of driving, so I'm planning to hit Cascade Mountain since I pass by it on the way. Save on miles driven.

12. Cascade & Porter Mountains

Today I took on Cascade Mountain, which has a spectacular bald top with a great view. There was a side-trail to the nearby Porter Mountain, which was slightly higher but that trail was super muddy, and the view not as all-encompassing. Perhaps the view of the High Peaks was worth it, and being able to look back on Cascade's peak.

All the trails today were rocky from use, so I ended up taking almost 6 hours again, even though it was only about 6 miles. Both peaks being over 4,000 feet, they're part of the "Adirondack 46" that the "Forty-sixers" go for, so they're heavily utilized. Unfortunately, a lot of these idiots don't know how to respect trails, so where the trail's rocky (and sometimes where it's got stone steps) they make a new herdpath on the soft flat ground along the rutted path. Which loosens the soil, damages tree roots, and in time ruts the path ever wider. We just need to keep nice things away from Americans.

There were 3 people backpacking up with babies in body slings. All of them were from Quebec. It makes me curious about how Canadian, or at least Quebecian, sensibilities on life, nature, and risk-taking differ from their US counterparts.

Having collected my 2 peaks (I now have 5, so I'm 10% of the way there... I'm on course to complete all 46 of them by 2248) I came to Meadowbrook campground, which unlike Sharp Bridge, is somewhere instead of nowhere. I set up my tent, and got ice cream from the stand across the road, and in a bit I'm going to go dinner at the BBQ place next door street food truck across the way.

13. Scarface Mountain

While cleaning up from breakfast this morning, a couple walked by looking like hikers. Trekking poles, water bladders, certain clothes gave it away.

I asked where they were going hiking. It turns out there's a trail from the campground to join the Scarface Mountain Trail nearby. The reviews of the trail didn't look bad, and it didn't require driving.

So I went up Scarface today. The first 2 miles are a nice walk in a pine forest, then there's 1 mile of steep hill, some views, and another walk in the woods to the forested summit.

The pine forest was very nice. Peaceful and quiet when the nearby gun range wasn't in use.

But the whole day has felt bittersweet, a microcosm of everything that's going on, with my emotions tied up. I used the car camping kit for the last time making breakfast. The trekking poles don't seem worth it to ship half-way around the planet. Same with the generic Coleman tent. My good hiking boots... huh.

There's circular logic as I realize I won't need these things anymore, so I should start selling them off, but then I can't do the things they make possible. And I find the closing off of those possibilities to be painfully sad.

Bookending the hike, the connector trail from the campground utilizes the Remsen-Lake Placid railroad corridor, which was stripped of rails 2 years ago. It was last used 50 years ago, except for a brief revival around 1980 when Lake Placid hosted the Olympic Winter Games.

It's going to become a recreational trail (not a bike transportation trail—bikes are toys, after all). I guess it's inevitable when everything is car-based, but looking back, almost everything in the Adirondacks was once serviced by railroad. Much has been ripped out, and much of what's left isn't used, and what's used is only rarely.

We've put out of business the once-profitable, self-sustaining transportation system and replaced it with a government-subsidized system of roads. We stopped paying people to build, maintain and operate fleet vehicles, and took on those costs, tasks and risks individually. This requires far more infrastructure, so it must cost us more than the old system did. Each of us operating our own motors, rather than sharing one big one, must have much higher environmental impact.

And yet, even as the environmental impacts have laid themselves bare this year, I think if you showed how things used to work to most Americans, they'd just say, "Well, that would never work." Even though it did, successfully, for decades.

The inability of Americans to see that things could work differently is one of the reasons I don't see a future here.

I see a parallel between divesting myself of the infrastructure that enables hiking, and the way society has divested itself of the infrastructure to transport more efficiently. But, it's one thing to let stuff sit for a bit, when does that become an unhealthy stasis? But letting go, it's cost to restore the infrastructure if it's ever needed again, possibly even prohibitive. But if you let it sit too long, entropy means it'll need heavy maintenance or replacement when needed again anyway. It seems moving on and moving forward could overlap, but they may not—and we may not know in advance which apply to decisions we're making. I hope I'm not making a mistake.

But there's Fucker Carlson. I'm living my life, minding my own business, trying to live an honorable and upright life, not hurting anyone. Why does he persecute us? Why isn't his persecution stopped before it escalates more? Why the hell do I have to leave my homeland because it's profitable to have a deranged propaganda-spouting angry man on TV? What is so threatening about my having had my body altered 30 years ago? I just want to hike some mountains, ride my bike, work my job, pay some taxes, love the two that I love, see friends sometimes and outside that, mind my own business and let you mind yours. But this fucking mouthpiece and his worshipers won't let that be. Honestly, I wouldn't even care what this tool said if it didn't create threat for me, but it does.

It's frustrating and saddening, and yet... It's like Pink Floyd says, "It's just another brick in the wall." Just one more reason to leave, like the dozens, maybe hundreds that have built up over time.

I wish it were easier, that it was possible to confront the pain once and put it behind me. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem to work that way. I know it's time to go, but man is it painful coping with the change. I am saddened by losing future possibilities, even though I'm running from the likely future outcomes.

14. Chimney Bluffs State Park

Enroute to home, I stopped at Chimney Bluffs State Park and hiked the bluffs.