We kind of spaced out on y’all for a while there.  Sorry about that.  To understand why, you might visit our OTHER blog (http://guinsyard.wordpress.com/) to see what we’ve been up to.  In general, if one hasn’t been updated, it’s likely we’re working on the other one.  

The reader’s digest version of our excuse is that we climbed Mt. Marcy on Saturday, September 20, 2008, and then closed on our first house 3 days later, on Tuesday, Sept. 23.  We moved the following weekend, and have been painting, de-wallpapering, shoveling snow, replacing appliances, gardening, replacing bathroom fixtures, and painting some more ever since.  We’re finally settled and have the entire house painted (although work will of course continue), and did our first peak of 2009 about two weeks ago.  So without further ado, here’s the quick (mostly photographic) recap of Marcy and Phelps.  If the weather holds, we’ll be going back out tomorrow – cross your fingers!

Mt. Marcy – Saturday, September 20, 2008

5,344 ft. | Rank by height:  1/46 | Highest point in the entire state of NY

As promised in earlier posts, we did this as an expanded team – Mom & Dad M joined us.  This was Dad’s second time up Marcy (first in several decades), and Mom’s first Adirondack adventure.  It was an incredible adventure, at that.  All four of us summited, and made it back down safely – no small feat.  We ran out of daylight on our way back down roughly around Marcy Dam, and had to make the last 2 miles (luckily the Van Hoevenberg trail from the dam is relatively flat) by way of one headlamp (shared between 4 people – a mistake we won’t make again).  We were never so thrilled to see the cabin…

We stayed in the cabin at the Adirondack Loj, which was pretty cool.  Tiny, but cool.  It almost felt like cheating, since there was a sink, toilet, shower (!), etc.  We joked that the roughest part was the mattresses on the 2 sets of bunk beds.  They felt more like giant versions of the “sit-upons” that I’d made in Girl Scouts as a kid (”padded” with newspaper in the middle) than mattresses.  Note to self:  next time, put the camp rest pad on the mattress for some real padding.  By Saturday night after the hike, though, they felt perfectly awesome.

Friday night, we climbed Mt. Jo (near the Adk Loj) for a warmup and view of Heart Lake

Marcy Dam - Saturday morning

On the way up to the summit - above the treeline, and after Little Marcy

Marcy's summit - 5,344 feet above sea level

It was a stunningly clear day

On the way down, we saw that the sun was fading, and put the camera away!  We finally made it back to the cabin after dark, and barely had the energy to make dinner.  Some of us had a second wind and sat around the fire until later – man were we tired!

by Sunday morning, the clouds had rolled in - Heart Lake

I tend to prefer our multi-day trips to the day trips, but this one will be hard to beat!

6 peaks down – 40 to go!

 

Phelps Mountain – Sunday, May 17, 2009

4,161 ft. | Rank by height:  32/46

The weather in early May this year was pretty poor, so we played this trip by ear, not sure if we could get it in between storms and bad weather.  We got really lucky – no flies, and no rain.  We took the Van Hoevenberg trail from the Adirondack Loj to Marcy Dam starting around 11:20am, and it brought back memories of doing it in the dark on the way back from Marcy.  Looking down at the roots and rocks, I had newfound respect for what we’d all done 9 months earlier!  From Marcy Dam, it was a relatively easy (but wet) hike up along Phelps Brook, up to the summit, and back down.  I’d hoped to do Tabletop as well, but that would have put us racing sunset, plus some clouds were already rolling in.  No thanks!  We made it out by around 6:15pm.  After this trip, though, we’ll look into gaitors for the future.  All in all, though, a really pleasant hike and a good break-in for the year.

To say it was a wet trail would be a gross understatement. The trails looked more like stream beds in a lot of places.

For their part, the stream beds were "ford at your own risk."

Algonquin in the distance

Phelps Mountain summit

7 down – 39 peaks to go!

Last weekend, we did our 4th and 5th peaks – Esther and Whiteface.  We did them in a fairly unorthodox manner, for hikers.  For one thing, we drove to the top. 

The Whiteface Mountain Memorial Highway is a two-lane paved toll road that winds around the topography of the mountain to within 300 vertical feet of Whiteface’s summit.  Admittedly, the accessibility that it provides, takes a little (ok, a lot) of the lustre out of climbing to the top – but since Whiteface is the 5th tallest of the high peaks, it had to be climbed to get our eventual 46.

No, no, no, of course we didn’t cheat! 

In the morning, we drove to the top, locked our bikes to the flagpole at “the castle,” and drove back down to the trail head.  The plan was to hike in, summit first at Esther, next at Whiteface, and ride our bikes the 7 miles back down to the car.  Done, done, and done.

The first segment of the hike, the ascent up to Marble Mountain, got us up the bulk of the elevation in a remarkably short distance (pant, pant).  From Marble to Lookout Mountain we mostly just followed the ridge. 

Then the going got a little tougher:

Ominous...?

 Truth be told, it really wasn’t that bad.  The herd path was obvious enough that markings would have been a little redundant.  The maintenance, however, I missed.  There was lots of this:

Dangling feet

 The col that we descended into before gaining elevation on up to the summit wasn’t anywhere near as bad as I’d imagined.  It has a reputation for being incredibly swampy, i.e., shin-heigh gaitors are recommended.  We were pleasantly surprised to find that someone (probably for an Eagle Scout project), has built a bridge over the swamp from split logs.  The things we regard as heavenly out in the woods…

We made it to Esther’s summit around 4pm, arms a little sore from brushes with trees (the herd path is only about shoulder-width).  The summit wasn’t a lot to see, with too many trees for much of a view – but it was the first time we’d had a summit to ourselves, which was kind of cool. 

 

 

 

 

Esther Mountain - 4,240 ft.; 28th tallest.

We returned to the trail leading to Whiteface at about 5pm, very aware that it was later than we’d imagined it would be.  Watching the sun sink lower, we hauled up toward the summit.  What a weird experience that is!    The trail seemingly just… ends… at an imposing rock wall. 

 

To one side, there’s a rock scramble that makes it possible (if not easy) to haul your now-dragging butt over the wall, and onto… the road.  Paved.  Double yellow lines.  Although I’d been there earlier in the day, it was so very soul-crushing.

Fortunately, it was late enough (the road closes at 5:45pm) that the tourists were gone. 

We followed the road for the last small-fraction-of-a-mile, and up the final 300 vertical feet – complete with hand rails! – to the summit.  So the hand rails were lame, I’ll admit.  The views, however, were pretty great.

 

(Not the best view)

 

Whiteface Mountain - 4,867 ft.; 5th tallest.

The obligatory summit pose

The real treat, though, was watching the sun set from the summit.  Since you can’t camp on the summits (nor would you want to – brrrr!), watching the sun rise or set isn’t really feasible.  The bike option, however, allowed us the necessary get-off-the-mountain-free card to stay for the sunset:

Whiteface's shadow, reaching to Lake Champlain in the distance

Lake Placid

We made it back to the car just as the last of the daylight faded.  Of the peaks we’ve done so far, these were probably not my favorite two – I like my peaks without pavement - but they were a very nice way to spend a day.

41 to go!

Memorial Day weekend provided us with two days of beautiful weather; Jayme and I took advantage of the first one to climb two more peaks!
 

Cascade was a great hike despite a few black flies on the way up. The sun was hot, and we both got a touch of sunburn, but warm day felt great after a long upstate winter.  Jayme was very proud to have her second High Peak.

The peak had quite a few visitors that day, and the 360-degree view was well worth the effort.  We could see the Great Range and the Lower Range to the South.  To the Southwest, we could see Giant Mountain (see our previous posts) and were shocked to see snow where we had been last fall!!  It was May, the temperature was approaching 80 degrees, and quite a few of the peaks still had snow.  Marcy, Algonquin, Dix, and Giant had enough snow you could see it from the highway.  Perhaps the only aspect of Cascade that we didn’t care for was the lack of views on the way up.  Near the top of the climb there was a ledge offering a nice view southwest, but otherwise you’re beneath the treeline so long you don’t see much until the end of the climb.

After a bit of sightseeing, we started back down Cascade to where the trail split off to the summit of Porter.  The trail to Porter was considerably muddier than the trail up Cascade, and even had snowbanks.  Jayme took great pride in pelting me with a snowball…. in May.

Porter was only a short climb up the spur trail, and Jayme got her third High Peak!

From the summit of Cascade, the summit of Porter was just under a half an hour’s hike.  You can see the summit of Cascade behind Jayme above.  While Porter didn’t have the spectacular views offered by Cascade, it did have a nice bench-like rock near the top that made a nice place for lunch.

All in all, the view to effort ratio on this climb is probably the highest we’re likely to find in the Adirondacks.  The view is great, and the climb takes approximately two hours (to the top of Cascade).  I would recommend this hike as a day trip to anyone.

New to our bag of tricks this time were our camel-backs and hiking poles, but Jayme will handle the gear review in the near future.

This September, we have plans to do Mt. Marcy.  At 5,344 ft. in elevation, it’s the highest peak in the Adirondacks, and also the highest point in New York State.  Its Indian name, Tahawus, means “cloud splitter,” for lack of a word in the language meaning simply, “mountain.”  

This trip, we’re bringing some company. 

Despite growing up a few hundred miles from the Adirondack Park, Dad did Marcy a few decades ago.  He’s game to go back, and Mom’s game to try it — so we’re planning a trip for the four of us.  We haven’t decided yet whether to approach the peak from the Adirondack Loj, or from Johns Brook Loj, but that will depend as much on trail conditions closer to departure as anything else.  We’re looking forward to the company on the trail.

…And now, the real point of this post — it’s in black & white!  We’re [all] really doing it!  

6 months til Marcy, guys  

It was a pretty epic hunt.  After casually hunting for several months, and then more vigorously as the spring months get closer, shopping the wares of 7 different EMS and REI store locations in 3 states, I finally have a pack!   Turns out, not only did I need a women’s pack, but my torso length measurement (done and redone at EMS) actually falls just short of the target range for even the women’s size XS packs.  That was a challenge.  Some brands, like Osprey, don’t make a size XS, ruling them out immediately.  Retail stores also don’t favor XS packs, for the same reason car dealerships cringe when you try to trade in a car with a manual transmission.  They know they’re going to be stuck with it in inventory until just the right tiny little backpacker comes along.  I had tried on kids’ packs, but the hips belts and sternum straps didn’t fit as well, and they didn’t have the kind of capacity I was looking for. 

Ultimately, we narrowed it down to two:  the Gregory Jade 50, and the Gregory Deva 60.  The Jade is lighter, has an airspace on the back panel, and fit extremely well; the Deva is more of load monster, and has a killer suspension system that feels a little heavy when the pack is empty, but prevents you from noticing, for the most part, when the pack is loaded.  It was a tough call, and I think either pack would’ve served me well.  I favored the Jade because it just fit me so well, and the airspace on the back is wicked awesome, end of story.  And at 2 lbs., 15 oz., it was like carrying a knapsack.  I favored the Deva because the internal capacity was greater — I prefer to carry gear in the pack than lash it to the outside, because it stays more steady — and it had more pockets for organization, heavier nylon fabric, and there was no trip I’d ever plan that it wouldn’t haul enough gear for.   It was the pack to end all packs (and it fit my back).

We had located an XS Jade pack in Newark, DE, and an XS Deva in Wilmington, DE… so Sunday afternoon of Presidents’ Day weekend while visiting the southernmore parental units, we roadtripped to the First State.  I saw the Jade first at the Newark EMS, tried it on, loved it, and bought it, figuring that if I liked the Deva better, I could just exchange it at the Wilmington EMS.  After checking out the Deva, I was so indecisive that I called for a coffee stop, and told Chris (he of more backpacking experience than I) to elaborate on how he’d make the decision between the men’s equivalents of the two packs — the Gregory Z55 (lighter weight) and the Baltoro (load monster), both of which I’d had him try on so he could help me decide (we also had him slated for a new pack at the conclusion of this season anyway).  He waxed philosophical, which quickly melted into puppy dog eyes that even Guinness can’t match.   By the time we left Dunkin’ Donuts, lattes in hand, I was convinced that I had the right pack in the car, and also, that we couldn’t leave Delaware without a pack for Chris too.  We drove all the way back south to Newark, and picked up the Z55.  So now, at 5′2 and 6′2, we’re going to be carrying the smallest women’s size and the largest men’s size of the same pack design.  (I got the prettier color though!)  It didn’t hurt that we rocked the tax-free Delaware shopping, and for the first time in a while, I loved how young I apparently look:  the clerk gave us the 15% off college student discount.  SCORE. 

We plan to debut those babies Memorial Day weekend in the lower range, getting at least four high peaks:  Lower Wolfjaw, Upper Wolfjaw, Armstrong, Gothics, and if we’re feeling really badass (read:  not dead tired), Sawteeth for #5, as well.  Stay tuned!

Our first storm of the season left us with icy roads and white lawns.  I am as big a fan as the next upstater for a White Christmas, but it means long nights and fewer opportunities to play outside.  Even when I can get out, Jayme and I feel guilty about exercising if we leave the puppy in the house.

To help with the outdoor playtime, I am looking for a device that would allow me to cross-country ski with my dog.   Guinness loves the snow, but he’s still a puppy and would likely run around me in circles if not handled on a short leash.  What I am looking for, and may have to  cobble together from climbing equipment, is a webbing belt to clip to the handle of Guinness’ leash that is loose enough to rotate around my waist, but tight enough (or somehow secured) so that it won’t slip down over my legs.  Either a tangled leash, or a belt around my legs, would result in a catastrophic (albeit humorous) wreck.  I will post pictures if I can find a solution.

The fun part about this season is the trip planning.  I would like to map out 3 or 4 weekend trips for next summer; hopefully we can get 8 peaks.  If we could get out twice next fall as well,we could have a 12 peak year.  Not bad for paperchasers.

Part of the problem with planning is that it isn’t a concrete step, and  it winds up on the back burner without someone to hold you accountable.  That said, I am putting my goal of having 5 to 8 trip plans completed by January 1, 2008 out for our small but loyal following to see.  Whether we will have time for any/all of those trips is an open question, but having the trip plans in place in case a weekend opens up makes a weekend away that much easier.

C

I measured the red frame-pack.  I measured my wife.  I have some plans to change.

Initially my intent had been to fit Jayme’s pack, a family heirloom of sorts, to her back.  Turns out she’s too short even for the pack’s smaller crossbar to work as a platform for the shoulder straps.

 It looks like it may be time to research petite packs.  Anyone out there care to make a suggestion?  As a six footer, I don’t know the market.

Note:  Giant, our first peak in our pursuit of the 46, is ranked #12 of the 46 high peaks in elevation, at 4627 feet.  A full collection of our photos from the venture can be found here.

You’re probably best served to read Chris’s earlier post before this one, because I’ll skip the parts that would be redundant.

A crash course…

It can be tough to pick up a new skill from someone to whom it’s second nature – someone to whom there’s a Right Way and a Wrong Way to pack a pack (only one of the former, and many, many of the latter).  It can be hard to figure out which parts are the real imperatives, and which parts are idiosyncratic habits.  Not that my husband has any of those.

Through most of the planning and packing, I watched and absorbed, closely enough that I think I could now pass Trip Prep 101 (but probably not 201, the honors version).  When we got out of the car and I wiggled into my [dad's] pack, though, I couldn’t just watch anymore – it was time to do (because, as the sage Yoda once said, there is no try).   

It took quite a while to figure out how to ascend without spending so much time looking at my feet and the ground (replete with roots/rocks/other obstacles) as to forget to enjoy the views, and how to descend with bigger strides, using gravity to my advantage instead of resisting it.  It also took a while to figure out what “2 miles” (or 3 or 7) means, when that “2 miles” is as the crow flies – not what a pedometer would (even remotely) read. 

As we climbed, it reminded me very much of my first 5-hour-long swim practice – I might have been 13 or 14 then.  Each hour seemed successively longer than the last, just as the summit seemed to move further away, the closer I got to it.  There were times when I wondered why I had agreed to such a cockamamie scheme.  They have ski lifts for this, don’t they? 

Then we got to the summit.

 I’d heard from people who have done it, that it would be the views from the top that would be intoxicating, addicting.  And they were beautiful, don’t get me wrong…

But it wasn’t so much the views per se that have me shopping packs designed specially for women’s hips and shoulders, and planning how, on subsequent trips, we can do more than one peak in a single trip.  (Colvin and Blake, for example, will probably be combined.)  It’s more a feeling of doing something – something cool, that a large percentage of the population won’t ever get to, mostly because they aren’t blessed with being surrounded by people who are so nuts passionate about doing it themselves.  It was more about doing something that at times was a little scary - going up a steep and rocky incline, wondering how I’d get back down it with the weight of a pack, and coming out OK – a little stronger, a little smarter on my feet for it.  Like swimming a 5-hour practice, I’m sure eventually it’ll get easier, both mentally (as I do more) and physically (as I get further from the summer that almost lost a fight to the bar exam).  Already, though, I can see that the rewards are great - and you can bet I’ll be coming back for more.

 And did I mention those views…

-jmt

And now for the gear review portion…

Nalgene Bottles

Aside from the tried and tested uses (namely, water), I discovered (much to Chris’ chagrin) that Nalgene bottles are also great for bringing in enough cabernet sauvignon to add flavor to complement our dinnertime beans & rice.  I’m told this is a very strange luxury item to bring, but hey, whatever gets you to the top, right?  It was worth its weight in my pack.

After our water scare on the first approach, we stopped at Keene Valley’s own Mountaineer and bought two extra bottles with the 46 peaks and their respective elevations printed on the side.  Nothing like a little motivation as you stop for a water break mid-hike!

On the note of water, MSR’s MiniWorks

I’ve been told that I don’t want to know about drinking iodine water.  I’ve been told on even stronger authority that I really don’t want to know about beaver fever (don’t worry, I’ve mastered vicarious learning).  We bought the MiniWorks to minimize both the amount of water we needed to carry at any given time, and the amount of iodine water we’d need to drink.  We’re sold.  This water filter rocks – it screws right onto the top of a wide-mouth Nalgene bottle, so there’s no mixing up clean and unfiltered water hoses, goes for trip after trip without needing the ceramic core replaced, and the water tastes really quite good.  Definitely worth it’s weight in, well, the pack!

Techwick

Just get some.  Seriously.  I think it’s the most comfortable material known to man.

EMS’ bear resistant canisters

We rented one of these bad boys for the grand total of about $6.  As it turns out, they’re great in theory, not so phenomenal in practice (in the Adirondacks).  Turns out, we must have the smartest stinkin’ black bears around.  When we were hanging around EMS while in the planning stages for the trip, we learned that they aren’t renting them to anyone headed to the Marcy Dam area because a momma has learned to open them to try to feed her cubs.  We figured, cool – we’re headed for the Giant Mountain Wilderness; we should be fine, right?  Wrong.  While we were fine, and woke up to our unscathed packets of tasty instant oatmeal, others weren’t so lucky.  When we returned the canister to EMS on Monday, we found out that 15 canisters had been broken into by black bears this weekend; many of which were in the Johns Brook area (way too close for comfort; only a couple miles away).  Since the bears have also figured out bear bagging, we’re going to need to get creative in the future…

Boots

I did the trip in a new (one week of breaking in) pair of Asolo’s Stynger GTX hiking boots.  They were great – two straight days of hiking without any major blisters to speak of.  My ankles are notoriously weak, and if there’s a pebble or grain of sand (much less a root, rock, or uneven ground) to be found to roll an ankle on, you can bet I’d find it.  As you could see in some of our photos, though, I went up and down slides, piles of rock, and rooted paths without a hitch, even earning the nickname of “Mountain Goat,” descending from the peak. 

Consumables

Just trust us on the deviled ham/chicken spread products…

Early on Saturday morning (9/22/07) Jayme and I woke up, dropped off the dog with our friends Gideon and Jen, and drove north into the Adirondacks.

Having packed in advance, we made pretty good time and were on the trail by about 10:15 a.m.  We decided to try the eastern approach to Giant Mountain via Rocky Ridge Peak.

Despite heavy packs and a hot sun, we made fair time to the top of Blueberry Cobbles (one of the smaller peaks on the ridge) and were rewarded with some of the most beautiful fall views in the Adirondack Park (so sayeth our guidebook.)

Now, I understand that asking for directions is supposedly unmanly, but I admit to having checked the guidebook and the map prior to planning and packing for the trip.  There are three streams on the map, any one of which would have provided a place to replenish our water supply for drinking and eventually cooking that evening.  Some of you may sense where this is going.  We passed over three dry stream beds.  No water.  Stupid map.

We also ran into a Ranger (actually the Army type as opposed to the Forest variety, but either are generally good sources of information on the wilderness) who had come from Mary Louise Pond (our intended camp site) and informed us that the pond was so shallow it couldn’t be relied on as a water source.  This is, unfortunately, the downside of camping in the dry season; the upside, of course, is the lack of bugs.

Dehydration didn’t sound fun, so I told Jayme we should probably head back to the trail head and try the southern approach (less scenic, but less chance of a dehydratey death).  She wasn’t thrilled to be hiking downward without getting a peak, but agreed.

The southern approach proved to be much more steep.  Jayme and I decided that rather than camp at Chapel Pond, very near the roadway, we would prefer to hike up the mountain about seven tenths of a mile and camp at Giant’s Washbowl.  Giant’s Washbowl is a very pretty little pond tucked into a mountain valley with a flat area for camping nearby.  After a fairly intense climb with the packs on (mind you this was Jayme’s first time with a frame-pack, and she was using an external… she’s tiny, but she’s tough) we pitched the tent with enough light left to cook dinner and eat at a relaxed pace.

We were both exhausted and went to bed at sundown.  In the eastern zone fires aren’t allowed, so there isn’t much reason to stay up past dark (the moon rises ever so slowly over those giant peaks)  We decided that an early morning would allow us to leave the park a bit earlier to get home to Guinness (our puppy) and still have time to wind down before bed, and so we hit the hay.

The next morning came early, but we reached summit and Jayme got her first peak around 11:15 a.m.  We thought we were there when we reached “The Bump” around 10:30, but Giant’s topography is such that you think you’re almost done twice before you’re actually there.  Jayme’s pictures are beautiful.  We had lunch (and got windburn… it was freezing up there) on the peak.

The hike down was nice, we chatted and relaxed.  Jayme signed us out of the park at the trail-head.  Returning victorious from the peak, we wrapped up a nice weekend.  Neither of us were injured, or even got a serious blister… great trip all in all!

For the next trip:

1.     Really think twice about bringing Guinness.  We met a fair number of dogs on the hike, but they were very well behaved.  Guinness is a good boy, but still very young.

2.     Jayme needs a women’s pack.  The hip-belt and external frame caused bruises and prevented her from looking ahead while ascending.  (The pack actually belonged to her father, also an Eagle Scout, who carried it during his time at Philmont.)

3.    Learn some French.  Better than half of the hikers we met on the trails were French Canadian.  In addition to the utility of being able to discuss terrain, distance, and weather with our northern neighbors, it would be nice (in a general be groovy and welcoming kind of way) to be able to say something in their native tongue.

4.    Camp near a large body of water, and carry more water on the way in.

5.    ”Deviled Ham/Chicken Spread” is not as good/edible as I remembered it being from Boy Scouting and will never be used as a lunch (with or without crackers) again.  Ever.

My wife is a beautiful woman and a great friend… but this isn’t that kind of blog (even if she does look cute in techwick).  This summer, she decided to give one of my favorite sports a try.  This coming weekend we are going backpacking and mountain climbing.  I look forward to spending some time with her, just us, in the woods and without the pressure of the rest of the world for a few days.

When Jayme found out that there was a title to be earned, that of a “46er”, for climbing the 46 High Peaks in the Adirondacks (i.e. a way to “win”) she decided that since she was in Upstate New York, this was an adventure she wanted to try.  (In case you’re curious, no we don’t have plans for the Northville-Placid trail yet, nor do we plan on doing the AT.  Jayme would probably be more enthusiastic about the Finger Lakes trail because she knows about the wineries out that way.)

We have decided to become 46ers.  I did quite a few peaks as a Boy Scout, but am fairly sure I haven’t climbed Algonquin, so we’ll climb that peak last and finish together.

 On this site, expect to find pictures and narrative of our adventures in the woods, gear testing, and commentary from either of us regarding trips, whether we should teach the dog to go camping, and any number of issues that arise on the trail.  I hope you enjoy our story!