A Look Back: The Accidental Adirondack Ascent

Evening descends on Lake Colden.

The old adage says that hindsight is always 20/20, right? It's easy to look back and laugh and mishaps, but some part of you wishes you'd foreseen the result of your decisions and made slightly different ones. One of the most entertaining things about reading old trip reports is picking out all of the things I'd do differently, especially when trip partners make an easily avoidable mistake. 

This post is a journal excerpt from the summer of 2006. I'd just graduated from college and was in the midst of packing to move to Alaska. A last-minute decision took us up to the Adirondacks for a few days and led to one of the most entraining blunders I've made in my short outdoor career!

Dan and I spent this past Sunday through Wednesday in the High Peaks region of the Adirondacks thanks to my Uncle Bill, trip planner extraordinaire. Our mission was to visit Mount Colden via the Flowed Lands and do as much exploring as well wanted. Even with his route advice, I didn't feel as prepared going into the trip as I wanted to. (We left the hot cocoa behind - tragic!) Everything felt rushed, which could have had something to do with my college graduation last week. But I'm leaving for Alaska in two days, and couldn't bear the thought of doing so without one last Upstate New York hurrah.

Our little home the first night. The sun came up in the morning!

After taking off from Ithaca on Sunday, we zipped up north and arrived in Newcomb in good time. The High Peaks were as beautiful as they've ever been. The mountains were cloaked in green, life exploding everywhere I looked. Making good time meant we were on the trail early, which is always a good thing with an impending thunder storm headed your way. The only problem was, we were on the wrong trail.

We followed the driving directions to Upper Works Road, a lonely secondary road that takes hikers deep into the western High Peaks. Instead of following it to its terminus and parking there, we parked in another small lot just south of it and set off. I knew it wasn't the trail we wanted, (the blazes were yellow, our trail should have been blazed red), and I'm not sure why I just went with it, but I did.

Mother Nature dumped buckets of cold rain on us, I was soaked and grumpy, I can think of a million reasons why I didn't question our route decision. We knew we were supposed to go up, and we were going up. "So we're fine," I kept telling myself. The trail ascended gradually at first, then steepened significantly. We climbed up and up, crawling on hands and knees over giant rock piles, boulders, waterfalls and fallen trees. At one point, we stopped because I couldn't figure out where we were on the map. I handed it to Dan. He looked at it quizzically, flipped it around a few times, smiled and said, "I think I figured out where we are, and you're not going to like it."

Arriving at the Flowed Lands lean-to, finally!

I laughed the kind of laugh crazy people laugh. This was a ridiculously tough climb, we'd done it in the rain with all of our gear, and I was fucking exhausted. Whatever he was about to tell me, I wasn't ready to hear it. It was supposed to be a leisurely stroll to Calamity Brook where we'd set up the tent and wait out the storm. But no. On the first day of our trip, in a monsoon, we'd climbed, (1800' in 1.6 miles I'd later learned), up an unmaintained trail to the top of Mount Adams. At just over 3,500' tall, it's not even one of the 46ers. Dan figured out where we were because of the fire tower, indicated on the map by a teeny weeny triangle. The views from the top of were minimal, not that I was in any frame of mind to enjoy them. We sucked it up, climbed back down, and spent the night in a little shack on the trail that likely used to be outpost of some sort. Having a roof was a blessing; we decorated the shack with our wet gear and got set up without getting more soaked. Unfortunately, the air was wet enough that nothing dried.

Monday was better. We put on our wet clothes, hiked back to the car and drove to the right parking lot at the end of the road to our intended starting point. The steady uphill hike to Calamity Pond and the Flowed Lands was tough, my body protesting from the day before. We stomped through ankle deep puddles of mud and hopped along giant rocks. It was great fun, minus the growing blisters on my heels and the extra 30 pounds on my back. The Flowed Lands lean-to came into view mid afternoon at which point the decision was made to pack it in for the day. A park ranger stopped in for a visit that night and brought great advice for the next day.

A beautiful day on Lake Colden. Mt Colden in the background.

Tuesday involved a leisurely, pack-free lap around Lake Colden with me nursing my blistered feet. They'd grown to the size of silver dollars, and I was grateful for the fact that all we had to do Wednesday was get back to the car. On the drive home, I couldn't help thinking I'd held Dan back the entire trip. I was tired, sore, blistered, and battling the stress that comes with an impending 5,000 mile move. It wasn't the send-off I'd hoped for, but it was a send-off nonetheless. Adirondacks, please forgive me. I'll be back to do it right someday.

So we climbed the wrong mountain. Meh. I can laugh about it now, but you can bet I wasn't laughing about it then! It turns out the fire tower on top of Mount Adams is a pretty neat structure with a lot of history. I've been back to the Flowed Lands area since, but still haven't been to the top of Mt. Colden. Anyone want to do it with me?

Four Ways to Have Awesome Winter Weekend in the Adirondacks

The Adirondack mountains hold a special place in my heart. Aside from being beautiful and close, I've had many a great adventure there. Until the past year or two, most of my adventures in the High Peaks region had been in warm weather. But there's so much to do in the winter, and so much fun to be had! After a trip up to Keene Valley and Lake Placid this past weekend, I decided I had to do the region's cold weather possibilities justice on the blog! Here are my four favorite ways to guarantee an awesome winter weekend in the High Peaks.

Climb Some Ice!

George showing us how it's done with one tool*

This past weekend, friend and ice leader extraordinaire George took me and a group of friends out to Chapel Pond Canyon in Keene Valley. Our first stop was the Mountaineer to rent gear, including an older version of the Camp Cassin C Comp mono point crampons for me and ice tools for George - the Grivel Quantum Tech and Matrix Tech. (For the record, the tools and crampons were amazing, though I'm not convinced I'm experienced enough to pass judgment on mono vs. dual point crampons!) We parked at Chapel Pond and started the approach, which took us around the edge of the pond through knee deep snow and into the sparsely forested canyon. Our destination was Positive Reinforcement, a beautiful NEI 3+/4- flow that can, as we discovered, accommodate three parties and four ropes.

George led right up the center of the formation and set up two top ropes for us to work on throughout the day. The first climb, set up on the far right side of the flow, was the easier of the two with plenty of stemming and resting opportunities. The second, set right in the middle, took us over a more sustained vertical section. I had to feebly yell "take!" to my belayer near the top of the second climb as the predictable pump and panic set in. Some day, I'll be able to climb 90' of ice without panicking! Two other pairs of climbers came in and set up in between us. Watching one party forgo ATCs for hip belays and Munter hitch knots made for some interesting conversations.

*a note on the photo - I bet George a beer that he couldn't climb the whole pitch with one tool. I upped the ante to a six pack if he could do it without falling. He fell once. Only one beer for George!

Ski Some...Ice?

A cloudy, but beautiful day at Whiteface.

While in the vicinity of Lake Placid, it seemed silly not to visit Whiteface Mountain. With a 3,000 foot vertical and 86 trails, it's one of the best skiing destinations on the east coast. Not to mention, of course, the fact that it's dubbed the Olympic Mountain after being home to the 1980 Winter Olympic Games. Whiteface is a beautiful mountain with terrain appropriate for all levels of skiers and boarders. My favorite runs are the long, meandering Wilmington Trail and the short blue square Silver Glades. Every resort should have a blue square glade run, in my humble opinion. I love zipping through the trees, but only when I'm sure I won't crash into one!

This was my second trip to the mountain, the first being in March of last year. Conditions were less than ideal; it was a busy day and most of the runs were incredibly icy. From what I've heard, this is pretty typical of the mountain and of course, typical of east coast skiing. The runs we did were pretty well skied off and all the snow had been packed into giant randomly placed bumps. My advice: get there early on busy days or visit on a weekday if you can. But the views were just as I remember - beautiful! 

Climb a Mountain

Aleya approaching the summit of Algonquin.

The Adirondack High Peaks region is a perfect place to learn and practice winter hiking and mountaineering. Last year, Aleya and I summited Algonquin (5,114') during a three day mountaineering course with the Eastern Mountain Sports Climbing School. The hike took our group of four 6-7 hours to complete and we summitted in howling winds and sub zero temperatures. After climbing a few High Peaks in the summer, it was amazing to see what the tops of the mountains look like in winter!

While our group was out ice climbing, Cornell swimming friend Jayme was out tackling Mount Colden (4,714'). Jayme and husband CJ are well on their way to becoming 46ers - an elite group of adventurers who've climbed the 46 highest peaks in the Adirondacks. Armed with snowshoes, Jayme and her group set off from the Adirondack Loj and hiked 11.2 miles round trip to the summit and back. Jayme reports, "It was a really nice day; just the right temperature.  Not so warm that we overheated in our layers, but not so cold that we felt we had to tag the summit and make a madcap dash back down for cover from the wind in the trees. Views from the summit were minimal, but the hike up the mountain was very pretty, with so much undisturbed snow.  I would love to find a sunny winter day to go back up.  It would be stunning." Jayme and CJ chronicle their ADK 46er adventures at Paperchasers Gone Wild.

Be a Tourist in an Olympic City

Lake Placid Brewery. Yum.

Lake Placid played host to the Olympic Winter Games twice, once in 1932 and again in 1980. If you're not up for climbing mountains, skiing, or climbing ice, some of the Olympic facilities and activities in town are perfect alternatives. Visit the Bobsled and Luge Complex for a short but thrilling ride down the bobsled track. Take a tour of the Olympic Jumping Complex, including a glass enclosed elevator ride to the observation deck at the top of the K-120 jump. (The "K" refers to the distance ski jumpers aim to reach to receive the maximum number of points for distance.) Drive out of town to the High Peaks Information Center to learn more about the region. And of course, be sure to visit the Lake Placid Pub and Brewery for their famous Ubu Ale.

If you've been to the High Peaks in the winter, what are some of your favorite activities? Have you participated in any mentioned above?

Dames in the Dacks on Video!

The 3-day Accelerated Mountaineering course I took with the EMS Climbing School was the first real step I took towards any kind of specialized mountaineering training. It was also the step that pushed me over the edge, and resulted in my signing up for the Summit for Someone climb.

While we were up in the Adirondacks for our Dames in the Dacks adventure, Aleya was determined to capture enough of it on film to create a short documentary of sorts for us to have after the class was over. We also hoped it might serve as a way for Eastern Mountain Sports to show potential students what our class was like. The result is an 11-minute film full of beautiful scenery, goofy faces, and our three monumental days exploring the winter worlds outside Lake Placid, New York.

When Aleya took her video camera out on top of Algonquin peak in fierce winds and low visibility, I remember thinking, "This video's either going to be the coolest thing in the world, or the last few images of us alive!"

Just kidding :) Aleya, our new friend Alex Federman, our fearless leader Matt Weich, and yours truly star in the film. Enjoy!




Dames in the Dacks 2010 from Aleya Van Doren on Vimeo.

Dames in the Dacks: A Mountaineering Adventure

How it All Began.

Inspired by Sara Lingafelter and her trip to Nepal with the Expedition Hanesbrand team, I started looking at mountaineering courses this past fall. I've spent so much time reading about other peoples' adventures in faraway places and I've always wanted to try mountaineering, to be like one of those people I read about. And I never really thought it was possible. But after reading about Sara's experience and trying to understand what it was that kept me from pursuing a whole new realm of outdoor adventure, I finally decided it was time.

One of the most prohibitive factors was, and still is, cost. But where there's a will...you know... and I found out through the Eastern Mountain Sports website that they offer classes of all sorts very close to home. Their 3 Day Accelerated Mountaineering course sounded like the perfect way to introduce myself to ice climbing and mountaineering, and by taking it in the Adirondacks, I'd be doing it in a relatively familiar environment.

Leave it to Twitter to make a good idea a great idea. I was ecstatic to discover that Aleya was interested and we signed up to take the class together.

Day 1: Basic Skills, Sliding Down Hills and My First Pitch of Ice EVER!

Aleya and I met our instructor, Matt, at the EMS store in Lake Placid Friday morning (1/8). We discovered we'd have a third in the class, Alex, an assistant professor of medicine from New York City. Alex's enthusiasm and willingness to learn a million new things in the span of three days was fantastic, and I'm so glad we had the chance to meet him.

We geared up at the store, learning about different types of boots, crampons and ice tools. Matt told us our first half day would be spent learning basics, including walking in crampons and self arrest techniques. Imagine our excitement when we learned we'd be sliding down a hill all morning! Matt took us to what was the site of the 1932 Olympic ski jump landing area for our lessons. We practiced holding our ice axes in self arrest position and arresting while sliding down the hill in different scenarios. The face-first-on-your-back scenario was the scariest, but still, I couldn't help but giggle like a five-year-old while hurtling myself down a snowy slope.

The afternoon was a monumental one. Matt took us to Buster (NEI 2-3, Pitchoff Mountain) for ice climbing. Ice climbing has always been one of those sports I looked at with a furrowed brow, eyes full of skepticism. (You want me to don sharp, pointy things on all of my limbs and throw them at a wall of ice, repeatedly, in the brutal cold?) But when I think of ice climbing, the words "hardcore" and "badass" are among the first I think of. I couldn't wait to try it.

Matt went up first and set a toprope anchor for the three of us to use. Aleya had been ice climbing before, but for Alex and I, it was brand new. It took me a bit to understand what it felt like to really swing the ice tools like I meant it, what it felt like when I hit a good spot, and the sounds the ice makes. But it was absolutely exhilarating. For someone who submits to fear often in rock climbing, I was surprisingly unafraid. Perhaps it was understanding that in ice climbing, you don't fall, and if you do, it's really, really bad.

The afternoon flew by and before we knew it, day 1 was over. We all met George for food and my favorite beer at the Lake Placid Pub and Brewery. George told us about his activities for the day, which involved a solo ice climb called Sisters Right. Awesome, George.

Tools/Gear I Used: Black Diamond Viper Hammer Ice Tool, Black Diamond Sabretooth Crampons, Black Diamond Raven or Raven Pro Ice Axe, Petzl Elios Helmet

Day 2: Who Needs One Pitch When You've Got Three?

We began the second day at the EMS store in Lake Placid again and hatched a plan to do a multi pitch ice climb called Chapel Pond Slab (II, WI 2-3, ~700'). I was beyond excited. My first multi pitch climb EVER, and on ice no less! We got to the base of the slab and found but two other parties in the middle of their ascent. Rather than waiting for them in the bitter cold, we moved on to an unnamed three pitch climb a bit down the road from Chapel Pond.

Again, Matt went up first and belayed us all from above. We ascended the first pitch in no time at all, and Alex belayed Matt on lead - his first lead belay ever! We hunkered down into the ice and snow at the top of the first pitch together while Matt led up the second. The entire climb was in the sun, and after the way was over, Aleya and I decided to name the climb "Juicy (NEI 1-2) for reasons I'm sure you can suppose. (We opted for a finalized name of Slushie today).

The second pitch was mostly hard packed snow over a thin sheet of ice, but not at all steep, and the third pitch was ice covered, but short. I half jokingly I told Matt I'd lead it - after all, it was only 20 feet or so. We made it to the top and took turns rappelling down. I finished the day with an incredible sense of accomplishment.

Tools/Gear I Used: Petzl Charlet Quark Ice Tool w/o leash (absolutely loved these), Black Diamond Sabretooth Crampons, Petzl Elios Helmet

Day 3: Putting it All Together: Summit of the Second-Highest Adirondack Peak

I've spent many a backpacking trip on the trails in the Adirondacks, and the area is one of my favorite places on Earth. I couldn't wait to try for the second-highest peak in the region, Algonquin, as the true test of what we'd learned. To be honest, I was a bit nervous suiting up in the parking lot at -5ºF. I have all the necessary clothes to stay warm in those conditions, but part of me still couldn't believe I'd make it out without frostbite.

We left around 8am in snowshoes from the Adirondack Loj parking lot. Snowshoes are required on the trails in the winter, not just for personal safety, but to prevent post-holing, which can cause deterioration of the trail and pose a hazard for other users. I found snowshoes extremely awkward at first, but had them figured out in no time. I had a blast experimenting with just how deep a snow pile I could step in without sinking.

We made our way up the trail and reached a good stopping point 0.9 miles below the summit of Algonquin at a trail intersection. One way up led to Wright peak, the other up to Algonquin. We'd decided what our turnaround time was in the parking lot, and agreed we'd reevaluate our summit attempt at that time. Our options were to try for Algonquin at 5,114' or summit Wright instead. We'd passed our turnaround time by a short bit, but after a short discussion, we decided we wanted to try for Algonquin regardless.

Despite hearing reports of brutal wind and decreased visibility, we switched from snowshoes to crampons and moved climbed. When we broke through tree line, I started to get scared. The wind was howling, so fierce that at times that standing seemed difficult. Mid-afternoon snow had come in, as predicted, and a large cloud was enveloping the mountain as we climbed. At no point did I have any doubt Matt was keeping us safe, and I knew he wouldn't have taken us up if he thought there was any danger. But being confronted with that kind of weather - that wind and those temperatures - in such an exposed spot for the first time was scary. Way finding became difficult even though the cairns we were using were quite tall. They'd been enveloped in rime ice and snow, and looked just like any other lump on top of the mountain. But all of the fear aside, it was absolutely beautiful, like another planet only those willing to bear the weather and the conditions got to see.

We made it down safely, switched back to snowshoes, and headed down. I've battled ITBS (Illiotibial Band Syndrome) in the past from running, and my right knee was extremely sore by the end of the descent. Matt suggested I use the poles to take some of the weight off my knee, which helped considerably, but it's definitely something I'm going to need to learn to manage on longer trips. But the pain in my knee didn't matter in the slightest; we'd accomplished something incredible, something I'd always wanted to do, and it felt great.

Holy Moly. I'm so Happy I want to Cry!
Nature of any kind is restorative, and I'm never as happy as I am when I'm outside. Rock climbing, hiking, backpacking, ice climbing, mountaineering, all of it makes me feel more whole. The need to live completely in the moment when I'm on a climb, leaving everything behind, I thirst for it, and am beginning to realize I need to experience that on a regular basis to be happy. I need to be outside. It doesn't always have to be pushing my limits rock climbing, or setting a pace on a hike that makes me want to fall over at the end. It's just being there, feeling the terrain below my feet, feeling the wind on my skin, and knowing I'm just a small part of a very big world.

This weekend was, like I said, a monumental one. I got to try so many things I've only dreamed about trying, never picturing myself as the type of person who'd be doing those things. And granted it wasn't a big mountain, or a super tall ice climb, I still feel like I really accomplished something up in the High Peaks with Alex and Aleya. I've had friends and family members comment on my trip photos, telling me they can't believe the girl they knew could ice climb, or could make it up a mountain in sub zero temperatures and blistering winds.

But I can, and I can't wait to do it again.

Trip Report: Adirondack Backpacking

hiking in on the first day with very full packs! (D. Herscovitch)

This is the first of what I hope will be many trip reports from the Adirondacks! Our plan was to hike in from the John's Brook Lodge to a secluded backcountry camping spot on Friday. We would then climb Mt. Marcy on Saturday, just over 10 miles round trip. On Sunday, we would tackle Mt. Haystack and Basin Mt., then Saddleback Mt., a 12-mile grueling hike. Monday would be a leisurely hike out, and we would be back in Philly in time for dinner. Of course, nothing ever goes quite as planned.

Day 1, Friday, May 15th
The group was organized via a hiking group on meetup.com, the same group I hiked Glen Onoko Falls with earlier in the year. After spending an hour in standing traffic, we finally made it to the Mountaineer outfitting store around 4pm for bear canister rentals. One inexperienced group member brought more food than could fit in her canister, including delicious Trader Joe's corn puffs, so we all helped her eat the remainder on the hike in. No protests. We arrived at our predetermined backcountry campsite only to find John's Brook, which we had to cross to get there, was extremely high. We found a backup on the trail site of the brook and settled in to rest.

postholing down from Mt. Marcy.

Day 2, Saturday, May 16th

We woke early to an overcast sky, and packed up to leave for Mt. Marcy. The round trip hike would be 10 miles, almost 3,000 feet of elevation gain. Anyone who's ever been to the Adirondacks in the spring knows to expect very, very wet conditions, but what we did not expect to encounter was a significant amount of snow.

Halfway through the ascent, the trail turned into a running stream covered by undeterminable depths of snow and ice. We punched through the layers of snow frequently, every few steps, sometimes waist-deep, which made the going slow and difficult. We were unprepared for those trail conditions, and only half of the group had adequate rain gear. I made the conscious decision to leave my gaiters at home. Bad, bad decision. And then it started to pour.

The rain came down in sheets, petered off, then started up again. When we finally got to the summit, we'd been battling 50-60mph wind gusts, sleet and rain torrents along the last mile of rock-scrambling trail. Dan and Josh, our fearless trip leader, had to hold our first-time backpacker's hand during the last half mile. But we made it.

snapping a quick summit shot before the wind blew us off!

I stayed on the summit long enough for the picture, then scrambled down with two other members of our group. I made another bad decision - to leave my rain pants in the tent - and was paying dearly for it. It took us almost four hours to descend the five miles back to camp due to the trail conditions, and the rain worsened. Much to my dismay, Dan and I discovered our tent floor was no longer waterproof. I was snuggled up in my 0º down bag when I noticed the rain was coming into the tent from the floor, soaking my Thermarest.

Down bag + 30-40º nighttime temperatures + wet = potential hypothermia. Luckily, I was able to see refuge in another tent, a two person with two people already in it, while Dan roughed it out in ours. I still got wet in the other tent - a 12-hour torrential downpour will do that - but it was better than the alternative. Dan spent the night in a 4" puddle on a little Thermarest island.

snuggled in bed with a friend and Lake Placid Beer! (D Herscovitch

Day 3, Sunday, May 17th
After our bout with bad weather, trail conditions and the lack of preparedness for both, we decided to bag the remainder of the trip and hike out Sunday. The hike out was painless with decent weather, and four of us decided to find a cheap hotel near Lake Placid to make the most of our time off from work. 

We spent the night at the Ledge Rock at Whiteface. It was a fantastic find during a ski trip last March; the lodge has a game room, complete with an archaic collection of VHS movies, a fireplace, a pool table, and a BYOB bar. It was a great night, and we drove home refreshed the next day.

Lessons Learned:

• Prepare for Anything. I made a few stupid decisions on the Mt. Marcy hike, failing to anticipate changes in weather. When the temperature dropped and trail conditions worsened, I might've been in real danger of hypothermia.
• Be Patient. Even when there's someone in the group who is unprepared, inexperienced, and does not move at the speed of the rest of the group, that person still might have the same desire to explore the mountains as all of us do. As a group, we could have done a better job of helping her pack. Each one of us might be that person on our next adventure!
• Manage Your Reactions. I was quick to feel and act negatively as Mother Nature continued to throw us curveballs I need to make sure I recognize I cannot change how I feel about a situation, but can change how I react. I can allow myself to, for a second and only in my head, say, "This f*cking sucks!" And then I need to move on and remember how special being out in the wilderness is.

Despite the fact that the Adirondacks have hit me with rain or snow on nearly every trip, I can't wait to go back. My next trip will be to the Catskills for Devil's Path in June, then back to the Adirondacks for a canoe trip in August. I can't wait!