Tag Archive: bushwacking

Trans Adirondack Route Recap & Reflections 

August 30, 2016 8:00 pm

Click Here to start at the beginning.

If you were to ask me what the number one reason for attempting a thru hike of the Trans Adirondack Route was, it would be a surprisingly simple one and one which might not come to mind. To as cheaply as possible, avoid New York City during the hottest month of the year.

Distance hiking requires only the occasional hotel/hostel and resupply stops and is in fact a rather inexpensive daily undertaking. Gear aside of course, which for this trip I had most of already.

Why the Trans Adirondack Route? There were certainly other hikes I considered. I was keeping it to the east coast for cost reasons. The Appalachian Trail was out of the question. Far too crowded these days and it’s peak season right now. Also strongly considered, Vermont’s Long Trail, the Finger Lakes Trail, and the Long Path which runs from NYC to near Schenectady, NY.

A journey for personal growth

I eventually settled on the TransADK for several reasons. My love of the Adirondack Mountains and eventual desire to live there, to walk the entire length of the Adirondack Park, it would be the route least traveled, and mostly because it was different from other hikes in that you would not simply be following a series of blazes down a clearly marked trail. Hiking the route would mean using some new navigational skills as well as my first “bushwacks” or off trail/cross country hiking. It would mean taking my previous hiking and backpacking experiences and skills to a higher level I had not yet experienced, which of course would cause me to grow as a person in ways other hikes would not, and who doesn’t want to grow as a person?

So how was it?

The highs: Many! Not being in NYC, Avalanche Pass, Cold River, Spruce Lake, Cedar Lakes, fresh fish & buried beer, Pillsbury Bay & Whitney Area.

The lows: Very few but, 8 hours of rain wasn’t so fun, road walking blisters and well there was South Notch.

The Bushwhacking: Was this always going to be about “bushwhacking”? I had to use several tools to degrees I previously had not. Maps, a compass and guidebook were all used constantly. Navigating was almost a part of every moment of travel, however After my first day of bushwacking I wanted to swear it off forever. I was sure I’d do what was required to complete the route including any more bushwhacking, then never, ever travel off trail again. Being older and more experienced I knew better. I knew I was somewhat traumatized by the experience and I knew that it would take time to digest, reflect and grow on. I also knew not to speculate whether I’d ever be up for it again. I’d let the experience settle in become a part of me and just focus on completing the tasks ahead.

Of course South Notch was still ahead. My longest, most difficult and perhaps least sucessful off trail travel of the trip. To say I was at any point afraid, would be inaccurate. It was probably one of the few situations in my life where I was able to not only recognize how bad fear would have made the situation, but was able to keep fear from becoming a additional part of the equation, remain calm and rational. As someone who has struggled with anxiety in other area’s of my life, I keep thinking back to those moments and wishing I could only understand and pinpoint how or what it was that enabled me to remain so composed.

I don’t feel like I’d ever “enjoy” off trail travel, however there are places not accessed by main trails which I loved. Pillsbury Bay, the great beaver meadow in the Whitney Area. These places are in part so magical and special because they cannot be easily reached by trail travel.

I am somewhat conflicted and challenged I feel there are places that should be “forever wild” and remain untouched by humans. Conflict and challenge in such context can actually be very helpful and a integral part of our learning and growth processes. As much for anything I did this to learn and grow as a person.

And to be fair in hindsight I learned a lot of very useful things about navigating off trail. How important topographical information can be, how it can be read on a map and used in real situations.

Summary

Overall the trip was simply amazing. I still have some things to sort out ponder over with regards to off trail travel. I feel though as I have truly experienced something. Not just a hike, but a part of something. I feel like a part of those mountains now. And that’s not something I could have gotten from a few day hikes. That’s only something you can get from being immersed in and dependent on your surroundings for several weeks at a time.

Some stats. Total days 22, 4 zero (miles) days, miles 235 route + walks in and out of town, a couple of side trips Total est. 250. Peaks 3, High Peaks 1 (over 4000 feet), lakes, rivers, and streams, too many to count.

Standing a little taller
Standing a little taller
20160825_080322
George gets to watch himself camp while at the hotel

Pillsbury Bay & Whitney Area 

August 18, 2016 8:00 pm

I set out this morning around 7am to begin what I was dreading as a long day of off trail/cross country travel or “bushwhacking”. The local fisherman I had camped with the night before gave me some great insights into the area and where I had to travel but it was still going to be mostly off trail travel.

I pretty easily bushwhacked my way around the end of Cedar Lakes where I was supposed to catch a “faint footpath” and cross over to Pillsbury Bay on the other side. Since I was now on the side I’d need to catch the faint path on I made my way down to the shore figuring it would be easier than cutting through the bushes. Once on the shore I began looking for the “faint path” but didn’t see it. I knew that in the worst case scenario I could walk the shore right around to the bay. Since it was going so much easier than bushwhacking and it was really beautiful I just kept along the shore about the entire time. It probably took me twice as long but wow it was a really beautiful and fairly easy walk!

I reached the head of Pillsbury Bay and began looking for the “faint path” described in the guidebook. It wasn’t so easy to find but after about 10 minutes I was able to locate it. I followed the path and came out in the beaver meadow of the Whitney Area as described in the guidebook. It was a very beautiful open expanse. I honestly wish I had taken more time for some photo’s and just to look around but I was unfortunately a little too focused on crossing the creek which ran through the middle of the meadow. It wasn’t large or anything, I had crossed the Opalescent River a few days earlier which was much wider but a lot less deep. I could tell by checking with my hiking pole it was certainly over knee deep and had some pretty soft mud. There was going to only be 1 way across and it was to walk straight through the creek. I had just dried out my socks and boots and didn’t want to get them soaked so early in the day. So I took everything off from the knees down, emptied my pockets and everything else into a stuff sack, threw it over my shoulder with my pack on and made a big 4 step plunge across Whitney Creek.

Once on the other side I suited up and once again began looking for a “faint path” A term I grew to hate as it was something I would have the hardest time finding, become overjoyed once I did and almost always loose it a few minutes later. I searched across the other side of the meadow and found nothing. So I set out to bushwhack towards Pillsbury Lake and hoped I could cut into it eventually. I did and once at Pillsbury Lake I needed to cross water once again. I did again and though I found the path on the other side this time it did not last long at all.

I bushwhacked and constantly found and lost the “faint path” but after a few hours and not too thick of brush I managed to make my way around the head of Pillsbury Lake avoiding a swamp at the head of Whitney Lake exactly as my fishing friends had advised me, dry boots and socks! I was pretty Happy!

Pillsbury Bay
Pillsbury Bay
Pillsbury Bay
Pillsbury Bay
Pillsbury Bay
Pillsbury Bay
Lava rocks in the Adirondacks?
Beaver Meadow in the Whitney Area
Beaver Meadow in the Whitney Area
Beaver Meadow in the Whitney Area
Beaver Meadow in the Whitney Area
Whitney Creek crossing
Whitney Creek crossing
Whitney Creek crossing
Whitney Creek crossing

South Notch Survival Situation 

August 7, 2016 9:00 pm

I awoke this morning with a pretty positive outlook. I had summited Whiteface yesterday, made it up and down with a full pack and managed some food as well. As I thought about the day ahead  I knew I had a few miles to go out of the Whiteface Landing area, I would then have a short road walk of about 2 miles, where I would be looking for the cross country ski trail which would end at some point and there would be a short bushwack to a road. Then I would summit the last mountain peak of the route, Mt. Van Hoevenberg. I had planned a stop at the Adirondack Mountain Club’s Loj at Heart Lake after the mountain summit.

I was in a joyous mood as I began my hike out of Whiteface Landing. I playfully thought of myself as on a otherworldly journey through a mystical forest to get to the magical Ho (Mt. Van Hoevenberg) by lunch time.

I reached the cross country ski trail which lead to the South Notch of the Sentinel Mountain Range by about 9:30 and thought to myself this is great, if I could get through this and to the foot of the magical Ho by noon, I’d be in great shape. 

Use of the cross country ski trail by hikers had been negotiated by the founder of the Trans Adirondack Route since it crossed private property. As I entered the trail is saw a man with his dog and my first thought was I would have to explain myself. He said a bright cheery “Hello”, I replied and continued along on my way.  The trail was pretty easy to follow and was very spot on as described in my guide book. Some trees were even marked with spray painted smiley faces, despite environmental concerns I was pleasantly amused.

I knew at some point the trail would end and I would have to begin a small section of cross country or off trail/bushwack to get to a dirt road where the trail head was.

Which clearing is this?

I had passed through several clearings and was stopping pretty regularly to reread the guidebook and make sure I was on track. I had also studied this section on Google Maps. I came out on a clearing where the brook I was following passed through. The trail seemed to just end. I referred to the guidebook but became unsure if I had the correct clearing or if perhaps I was a little ahead of myself.

I checked Google GPS, the TransADK route map, and knew that regardless of what happened to the trail, I could meet up with it at the head of another brook due south from my current position. I also knew that if I could not find the trail at the head of that brook, my final destination was a road a bit further south from the brook at the outlet of a small stream.

Although i did not enjoy the bushwacking a few days prior, I had a new found confidence in my ability to navigate off trail and set out to make my way to the head of the next brook using my compass and GPS.

Google GPS will work pretty much everywhere out here, regardless of cell service. Just one catch, although it is pretty spot on for showing you your location, if there is no cell service it will not show topographic information.

I set out bushwacking keeping the first brook to my right/west side and making short dashes east to continue looking for the ski trail I had lost with no luck. I reached the end of the first brook and set out west to try and find the trail at the head of the next.

The work was laborious and exhausting but with the help of GPS and my compass I eventually reached the head of the second. It had taken almost 3 hrs. And still no ski trail. I knew I’d have to continue on to try and meet the stream and road with the trail head.

I tripped and fell many times, once falling face first. The ground was somewhat soft, for a slit second it didn’t hurt too bad then the weight of my package smacking down on me knocked the wind out of me. Stunned I pulled myself up and could not believe it but there in front of me was a human boot print. The trail lasted maybe 10 steps then quietly disappeared into the brush as quickly as it had appeared.

As I pressed on it realized I was quickly running into a mountain. It certainly wasn’t the highest climb I had seen but it was very sizable and given the amount of extra work it takes to travel off trail, uphill was not a challenge I wanted. I weighed my options. I had worked so hard for hours to get here. Turn around and go back? Or Bushwack up?

I knew that brush on the north side of the mountain was likely denser as it gets less sunlight. I also knew that though thicker near the summit, there may be some degree of clearing at the top. At the very least, if I had to call for help having the high ground seemed a good plan.

So I made the decision to press on and work my way up the mountain. I was drenched head to toe in sweat. Fortunately I had my long pants and gaiters on but I was wearing short sleeves and my arms were taking hundreds of tiny cuts, some not so tiny and some pretty bad bruises as well.

I had another problem, I was out of water, with the drought here, and heading uphill, there were no water sources to be found. My lips were going numb and I knew I was getting very dehydrated. I hadn’t hardly eaten either and the thickening brush seemed to take strength from me with every push forward.

I was noticing a increase in the amount of bear scat as I ascended the mountain. I took note, but wasn’t too alarmed just yet as most bear encounters are more likely during dusk or dawn. It being only 3pm I figured it was just best to concentrate on making forward progress. 

Are those bear dens?

I continued on and estimated I was about 3/4 of the way up the mountain. Things began getting thicker and rocks and the bear scat increased. As I reached what I determined to be a very large ridge,  I noticed caves in the densely Moss covered rocks. It dawned on me, umm are those bear dens? I was fairly sure of it.

I had reached a wall of rock with no way around, and seemingly no way over. I cautiously crunched and climbed my way to the left and found a pretty big drop into a brush filled ravine. I made my way back to where I had come upon the cliff and checked to the right. Still no visible way up or forward. As I was crawling across the rocks Moss dead rotting trees were crumbling in my fingers. It seemed nothing was solid enough to grab a hold of and at one point my foot sank through between some rocks and I dropped in a crevice to my waist. Had I just dropped in on a sleeping bears roof? I didn’t wait to find out and pulled myself out as quickly as possible.

What now? I was stuck. Continue this madness until I fell into a cave and was truly stuck? or worse bear food? Go back and loose all of the progress in had worked so hard for? I was stopped on a ledge barely wide enough to hold me not knowing if my next step was my last.

I felt I was for the first time in my many wooded experiences in very serious trouble. Things had previously seemed serious such as when trying to descend a steep mountain with a full pack, but those situations seemed obvious now, keep the course, slow, careful, steady and eventually everything would be fine. Things weren’t so clear cut here. Should I call for help? Turn around? To say I wasn’t afraid wouldn’t be completely accurate. I knew though, if I did let myself become even nearly as afraid as I should have been at that moment the situation would fall apart so quickly I’d surely not get out of it. So despite all I put fear aside and forced myself into a circular path of analytical decision. I spent the better part of a half hour trying to decide what to do. There was a small ledge on the rock above me about 1 foot taller than me, where my pack would fit if I could get it up there, but with the pack there, where would I go, even it is could find a way up onto it. 

Also I couldn’t see more than a few feet past this ledge. What I could see was though getting up 7 feet or so may have been the difficult part but things weren’t going to get easy from there. Would I do all of this work just to get stuck higher up?

The move that defines you…

I knew, or at least I felt this singular point in time was a life defining decision. I lifted my pack over my head and onto the tiny ledge. Great, that wasn’t too difficult but how to get myself up there? There was 1 small tree close to the edge of the rock but at the rate things were soft and crumbling I had no confidence in its ability to hold my weight. I took the most solid branch I could find and wedged it to use as a step. I grabbed at the Moss on the rock above me, clawing for life, digging into moss with my finger tips, trying to use the one tree without pulling it out, and pulling myself up. I had done it!

 I thought at least i have the high ground on the beard right? But no, more bear dens. I thought to myself,  really? Ugh. what kind of bear wants to go pushing through this muck all night then come home and have to crawl all the way up here to get home?

I had done it, got up on the ledge, but the work was far from done. I spent the next half hour with my pack off, pushing it one step ahead of me through tiny openings in the brush then pulling myself up through after it. Up over rocks, Moss, rotting trees and debris. 

Finally I had reached the top. Things didn’t get a whole lot better. It was still pretty thick and getting across and down to the road looked like it could be a full days work, maybe more.

I was flat out of energy. I just kept thinking if I can make it to some water I’ll get through this. I pressed on, making painfully slower and slower progress. Then, there it was, just through a tiny clearing, a pretty sizable puddle which looked to be fed by underground runoff from the top of the mountain. It wasn’t much but it was certainly enough to hydrate me. I treated the water with tablets and waited the 30 minutes for the tablets to purify the water.

This is now a survival situation?

As I sat waiting I started to assess my situation. What to do next? I had determined this was no longer a “hiking situation” but had now become a “survival situation”. I was still relatively calm. I thought to myself I have all of the tools I needed to survive. More than most people in survival situations on tv. I was essentially completely  prepared to spend the night in the woods. My biggest problem was just not being able to get out. 

I thought about calling the DEC for a forest Ranger rescue. As I pondered what that would look like, I honestly could not see how they could have got me out of such dense brush so far in except maybe a helicopter/basket rescue. Given my fear of heights I quickly decided I’d rather die in this tiny clearing in the woods than be plucked out of the woods in a basket. Besides how dumb would it look when the guy from New York City had a rescue team of how many, a helicopter and a basket take him from the woods while on some half cocked journey to cross the Adirondack Park on foot?

I set up my hammock in hopes that some water, food and rest would be enough to get me out on my own the next morning. Given the bear activity I had seen it wasn’t going to cook a hot meal. I ate lightly some energy bar and a handful of peanuts and stashed my food and smellables in my bear canister several hundred feet away from my hammock.

As I went to sleep in fully expecting to be awoke in the middle of the night by bears attempting to get into my bear canister. I had one advantage, the brush around me was so dense nothing was getting near me without making significant noise.

It was the darkest and the quietest place I had ever camped. Not a single bird, chipmunk or other sound. No wind, no noise, nothing.

Fade to black.

Whiteface Landing
Whiteface Landing
Rons Rock Garden
Rons Rock Garden
Ausable River
Ausable River
10th Mountain Division Memorial Trail
10th Mountain Division Memorial Trail
10th Mountain Division Memorial Trail
10th Mountain Division Memorial Trail
10th Mountain Division Memorial Trail
10th Mountain Division Memorial Trail
Ski trail smiley faces
Ski trail smiley faces
Ski trail smiley faces
Ski trail smiley faces
Bushwhack
Some of what i climbed over. Unfortunately the only photo I took during the ordeal. Trying to save battery.
Bushwacking scars a few days later
Bushwacking scars a few days later
Bushwacking scars a few days later
Bushwacking scars a few days later
Bushwacking scars a few days later
Bushwacking scars a few days later

Catamount Mountain 

August 4, 2016 9:00 pm

After making my way around the snow mobile trails around Taylor Pond, stopping to enjoy the view at Taylor Pond Damm and a second but much shorter bushwack on the south shore I eventually made it to the “Loon View” or Taylor Pond leam to. This was close to where I would begin my bushwack summit of Catamount Mountain. I stopped for some water and a quick bite but as it was nearly 3pm and I wanted to catch sunset from the top of Catamount I needed to press on.

The guidebook had suggested starting the bushwack from either the lean-to or a stream just a little past it, leaving the option up to me. I chose to begin about half way between the two. As I began my ascent again I tried to avoid the densest brush. For the first hour and a half things were going ok. It wasn’t too thick but it certainly was a bunch of work going uphill. I was drenched in sweat from head to toe but glad I had on my long pants and gaiters.

About two thirds of the way to the summit things really started getting thick. My progress became very labored and slowed to nearly a crawl. I grew impatient and frustrated as I wondered who would enjoy such travel and why? The brush kept getting thicker and thicker and soon at times I was literally crawling on my hands and knees to get a few feet ahead where I might be able to stop and catch a breath.  

Things were turning from bad to worse fast as I wondered if I would make it to the summit in time for sunset and if it got dark, then what? I knew panic would only make the situation worse so I stayed calm keeping up my hard work determined to press forward. It seemed like the harder it worked the more difficult things became. I could only liken it to one of those horror movie scenes where someone is covered in tar or slime and trying to move through it or perhaps swimming through molasses. 

For a brief moment I stopped to ponder what it would look like if I needed help getting out of this situation. What would I say? I’m lost “somewhere” in the brush on the north side of the mountain. How would anyone even get to me? It didn’t seem possible, certainly not a good scenario. 

Of course at the time things seemed their worse I started coming out on what I believed was the ridgeline leading to the summit. It was still a lot of work but things were starting to open slightly. 

With about a 30 minute push across the ridge I finally made it to the summit. Despite the unpleasantness of the bushwack,  the views from the top were absolutely breathtaking! I could see Whiteface Mountain to the south, many other peaks and the views seemed endless. 

It was 6:30 and sunset was a little over a hour away. I looked around and though some mountains can offer space within a few hundred feet of the summit that is camp the brush around was simply to dense and I knew my plan to catch sunset and sunrise wasn’t going to work out.

While some people will hike in the dark with a headlamp, not having established camp yet and having a full pack, I decided I needed to descend and find a place to camp. I hiked down about 2hrs and set up camp for the night about two thirds of the way down and 200 feet off trail.

Looking north west from the south shore of Taylor Pond
Looking north west from the south shore of Taylor Pond
'Loon View' lean to
‘Loon View’ lean to
Some very interesting mosses on the way up Catamount
Some very interesting mosses on the way up Catamount
US Geological Survey marker, summit of Catamount Mountain
US Geological Survey marker, summit of Catamount Mountain
Whiteface Mountain in the distance from the summit of Catamount Mountain
Whiteface Mountain in the distance from the summit of Catamount Mountain
Other views from Catamount Mountain
Other views from Catamount Mountain

My First Bushwack 

August 4, 2016 8:00 pm

If you are not familiar with the term, “bushwacking” refers to cross country or off trail hiking. The term explains a lot since you are at times literally whacking bushes out of your way. I had not previously done any bushwacking and I can’t say I was looking forward to it. I wasn’t so nervous about keeping my direction as I was apprehensive about getting through dense bush.

I had several tools I was prepared to use not to get lost and to reach my destination. I had the TransADK  guidebook, the TransADK maps, a compass and the Google Maps GPS on my phone. Allthough it sounds like GPS might be a panacea for off trail navigation, it’s worth noting, that without a cell signal, while you can still get positioning information, it’s very basic and essentially just shows your direction on a big green square. It also shows bodies of water and even some small streams which can be very helpful. There are also  battery concerns or technical failure to keep in mind. Certainly not a perfect solution. It was one more tool in the set though and I was greatful for it.

The guidebook had a pretty thorough  description of where to begin and where to head to from there. There were 3 bushwacks today. 2 relatively short ones and one to the summit of a Mountain. As I reached the area of woods I was supposed to enter, I put on my gaiters, took a deep breath and plunged into the woods.l trailess for the very first time. 

It was definitely a little awkward for someone who was used to trail travel. As I had expected dense areas of spruce were the most difficult to move through, with their hundreds of branches and thousands of tiny needles that always seemed to grow right to the forest floor. One of the most notable differences almost immediately was the amount of effort needed to cover such short distances. I was certainly getting a workout over less than challenging inclines or at times even small downhills. I pressed forward trying to avoid the densest brush while working to maintain my course through the woods. I navigated keeping the direction I had when entering with the west to my right and south in front of me and using my compass for course corrections. Occasionally I would pull out my phone and pop open the GPS for a quick look to confirm I was making the correct decisions. I was spot on and having no directional issues. 

I certainly didn’t enjoy it, and was not looking forward to more of the same but after about 1.5-2 hrs I successfully found the snow mobile trail in was supposed to connect with. I felt at least i had some confidence in my ability to complete the task even if not take pleasure in it. 

The snow mobile trails were a bit of a maze and had no directional signs but were navigable. I made a short wrong turn or two, never loosing more than two minutes in the wrong direction and even once coming out shore side of Taylor Pond with my first views of the High Peaks including the distance and Catamount the mountain I was to summit later on the shore across the pond. The views were just spectacular and I was excited and filled with anticipation of the hike ahead. 

North east shore of Taylor Pond with Catamount Mountain and the High Peaks visible in the distance.
North east shore of Taylor Pond with Catamount Mountain and the High Peaks visible in the distance