2015.08.30 – A Day in the Adirondacks

My first discovery of the day was that Walmart turns off its parking lot lights at 6:00 AM, or at least that seemed to be the protocol at the Supercenter in Rome, NY. For one reason or another, my internal alarms had been set for 5:30 AM, while my phone had been set for 6:25 AM. Today, the discrepancy was a gift rather than a hindrance. Today’s goal was the Adirondack Mountains. No one should ever try to squeeze an Adirondack experience into one day, but I had to because of an upcoming scheduling crunch and the availabilities of some of my friends. I am sure that I will be back soon enough.

With breakfast finished and teeth brushed, I hit the road by 6:15 AM, heading into Adirondack Park. Its name is that simple. No “State” or “National”, just “Adirondack Park”. Set aside in 1885 initially as a New York State Forest Preserve, this park is the largest area of protected wilderness in the United States. Yellowstone doesn’t even begin to hold a candle to its 6.1 million acres of protected land. That being said, the two parks are wildly different. People live in the Adirondacks (over 100,000 actually). There are gas stations, restaurants, and a myriad of other shops in the Adirondacks, none of which is under strict NPS oversight. The distinctions between National Parks, National Forests, Bureau of Land Management land, and many other types of protected wilderness is definitely going to warrant its own post later on, so your confusion is only temporary.

Any drive through the Adirondacks is bound to be drop dead gorgeous, which is probably why the shoulders of the main roads are extra wide, so you can pull over whenever you want. Dense forest, serene lakes, high peaks, and winding rivers sneak there way into any direction you are looking. It is a lush paradise of northwoods wonders. One wonder in particular I have been told countless times that I am not allowed to miss: The Adirondack Museum. This remarkable institution sits on Blue Mountain Lake. Its compound houses a dazzling array of Adirondack boats, furniture, photographs, and history. They do a wonderful job of telling the story of these magical mountains. All of the gorgeous, handcrafted boats, sturdy furniture, and tales of the difficulties of farming in the rocky country of the Adirondacks led to a similar impression: Life in the Adirondacks has been and always will be hard. In order to maintain a living, people built their homes, tools, and furniture from what was available on the land. As a result, everything the built is sturdy and much of it has survived until now. The same cannot be said for many of our recent inventions or any piece of Ikea furniture…

Yet after a few hours of wandering around looking at pictures of other people in the mountains, I decided it was my turn. Knowing that I had to be in Burlington by 6:00 PM, I knew I had to pick one of the smaller of the 46 “High Peaks” in between Lake Placid and Keene, NY. I chose Cascade Mountain with a bald summit just about 4,000 ft. The 36^th highest of the peaks, it has few claims to fame. The trail to the top is only 2.5 miles long, which was perfect for me. Those of you who have spent time hiking before will know that distance is far from the most important factor when you are preparing to summit a peak. Those 2.5 miles sound innocent enough, until you add in the over 2,000 feet of elevation change. I had two hours to spare, so I decided to accept Mother Nature’s challenge.

My plan was to forgo taking any pictures on the way up and just motor through it, trail running whenever possible. Then, on the way down, I would focus more intently on documenting my experience and the mountains around me. The plan worked. I started things off at a brisk pace, but the trail soon became quite vertical. My “run as often as possible” plan soon fell by the wayside and I settled into a quick march. Having not worked out in over 2 months, this was going to be harder than I had expected. I was up to the top in a little under an hour (much to my surprise). To my surprise, I discovered later that a fire had devastated the summit of Cascade in 1903. The soil and trees have never recovered, and the summit remains bald, even though it is below tree line on the surrounding mountains.

Along the way, I remembered why I love hiking in the Northeast: the surprise factor. Because the peaks out west are so much higher than in the east, you often spend more time above tree line taking in extraordinary vistas as you hike. I made that sound like it’s a bad thing didn’t I? It isn’t, but peaks in the east offer a different kind of experience. Oftentimes you are hiking at or below tree line for 90-99% of your hike, which means that your views are limited. The suspense, therefore, is building the entire hike, until you finally set foot on the summit and drink in the world around you. Personally, that suspense is what drives me to hike harder. Out west, you don’t have to get to the top to get the view. Here, you do.

I had made up some time on the way up, so I started heading down at a reasonable pace. After a quarter mile, I realized the rocks were perfect for hopping, so I started bounding down the trail, arriving at the parking lot in about 45 minutes (sweating like a pig, I might add). In my current, odiferous state, I didn’t really want to spend 2 hours driving, so I kept an eye out for a lake along the way. Lo and behold, the first corner after the trailhead had a wonderful lake with a little parking area at its northeastern tip. I hopped out and hopped in. The water was brisk, refreshing as hell, and the scenery was to die for. I was staring up at the mountain I had just climbed while all the sweat from that effort was washing off of me.

Soon, a few more folks joined me in the water and as I was toweling off, one of them inquired about my Element. I shared my story and my purpose, while he mentioned that he had been doing a 50-mile mountain bike race. When we swapped cards, he mentioned that he ran a small solar company. I looked down at the card and instantly recognized Apex Solar as the company that I had almost bought my solar set up from. Whoops! I had even emailed his company with questions. Small. World.

After I left my watering hole, I was hell bent on Burlington. Normally, I would be this excited simply because it might be one of my favorite cities on earth. This time, however, it was about more than that. Remember when I hinted at a piece of advice that the wonderful woman in Geneva, NY gave me? You were probably up all night wondering what it could’ve been! In a somewhat offhand remark, she mentioned a program called Harvest Hosts. Simply put, farms, vineyards, orchards, etc. join this group and act as willing hosts for self-contained vehicles like RVs or, in my case, Sam. To become a member, you pay an annual fee of $44, and then Harvest Hosts gives you a list of all host farms in the United States and Canada. With your list in hand, all you have to do is call a host, see if they have space, and then you can stay there for additional cost! You are encouraged to buy something from the farm or volunteer your time or energy in some way. For me, this means that I can begin routing via organic farms rather than Walmart parking lots!

In fact, the reason why I was high tailing it to Burlington was that I had to get to Sam Mazza’s Farm Market before it closed at 6:00 PM. I made it just in time to pick up a snack before they directed me out behind their building to park my car. I get to sleep next to a corn maze!!! So here I sit, with me feet hanging out the back of my car, rows of corn in front of me, writing a blog entry, reading, and processing photos. Could life be any better!

Travel Map for the Day