Happy Earth Day!

In celebration of Earth Day, Silent Panther and Major Tom decide to traverse four peaks in the northwest corner of Harriman Park. This is our last section in the lower portion of the Long Path. After this, we will be biking up in Orange County, heading for the Shawangunks. With Spring coming late to the Ramapo Highlands, today’s hike feels like an ending and a beginning.

Uh-oh. There is frost on the deck when I wake up this morning. It has been a long, cold Winter, but frost on April 22? Wow. Last night’s clear skies must have let all the warmth escape. Early sunshine brings the temperature up into the 40’s, then the sky covers with gray clouds. Hey, at least we won’t be sweating too much.

We get dropped off on the side of route 6, west of the intersection with route 293. Cold, tired and stiff. Only half-awake, we don’t talk much. Trudging into the woods, we are confronted with ominous military warnings. Looks like we will be walking along the border of West Point Military Reservation. Some distant rifle shots emphasize the point. Okay, I guess we will be sticking close to the trail.

Sometimes we hike for hours before we are transported into an altered state. Today, it happens immediately. Both of our spirit animals make their presence known as we crest the first ridge. My vulture sweeps low overhead, freezing us in awe. He has one feather missing on the left wing, just like the first vulture I bonded with on West Hook Mountain. I briefly entertain the impossible thought that it is the same bird.

Silent Panther is focused on the cliff across the valley. There is a sizable cave, about right for a family of big cats. We don’t explore closer, out of a healthy respect for both felines and the U.S. Army. I wish for the hundredth time to see a bobcat in the wild. I have heard them yowling at night, a sound that froze my blood. As for panthers, the experts say that they do not live in New York state, but there are stories…

The remoteness of this location adds to the feelings of wildness and raw beauty. It seems like people rarely come here. As we hike five miles today, we only see one other human being. Much of the path is covered in a thick carpet of moss. It would be rapidly destroyed by the boots of hikers. We walk softly, enjoying the cushioned bounce. The mountain laurel is starting to think about blooming in a few weeks. The trout lilies are everywhere, but only showing blossoms on a few South-facing slopes. Wintergreen berries from last Summer are still delicious. Thousands of acorns are splitting open, showing their red insides as they sprout. The skunk cabbage is poking up in the wet areas, with a couple of brave frogs peeping nearby. The sound of a machine gun is not from West Point, but from a woodpecker. All is right with the world.

There is a spectacular waterfall on the east slope of Blackcap Mountain. The rock face, almost vertical, is coated with a thick layer of moss. The water starts as a free flow, but the green carpet absorbs so much that the water is conducted silently and invisibly, till it drips out the bottom. We stand in silence for many minutes, watching all the variations in color and texture and flow. It’s a remarkable place.

Across route 293, we climb Brooks Mountain. Whoever laid out the Long Path here was in a real hurry. No time for switchbacks, just head straight uphill! We are out of shape and exhausted. On the positive side, the Hikers’ High really kicks in. We stop for a snack on top. Then down the other side, with a beautiful view of Lake Massawippa to our right. The Long Path Guide book describes the lowland that we are about to cross as “a classic U-shaped post-glacial valley”. As advertised, we come to the outlet stream from the lake, but that’s when things get ugly.

The promised log bridge is nowhere to be seen. Major Tom makes a calculated risk on a jump to a slimy rock. Bad idea. I pull myself to shore, cold and wet, with a throbbing ankle. Silent Panther chooses a better spot to cross, then takes five steps and twists his ankle! This is the low point of the day. All of a sudden, civilization seems very far away. No cell phone signal. Well, we would tough it out anyway.

We are faced with a steep climb up Howell Mountain. Not much fun on bad ankles. We decide to stop for lunch. The ice pack numbs everything, and we plan our final assault on Long Mountain. The sandwiches taste great, and our state of mind improves. Who needs ankles anyway? It is a beautiful day, and we are out in the woods. Onwards and upwards! There is a great view from the top of Howell Mountain, and our spirits soar.

Down, down, down into Deep Hollow. We pass striped maple trees, rarely seen in these parts. Several streams snake across the bottom of the hollow, some rocky and some with sandy bottoms. We cross much more carefully than before, inching across a fallen red oak. One more major uphill climb to the top of Long Mountain. Wow, what a panorama. The best view ever of Popolopen Torne, probably the coolest peak in the park. There’s Perkins Tower, on top of Bear Mountain. Stockbridge to the South, and a beautiful lake below. For the millionth time, I am grateful to the people who had the vision to preserve this magical landscape.

On down the final slope, our pain forgotten, we talk about the challenges ahead. There is still a lot of Long Path waiting for us. It’s only April, and everything seems possible. Harriman Park did not let us go easily, but we are ready for our next step.