Shawangunk Ridge Trail Adventures

It’s a nice day for a hike. Let’s do a chunk of the Long Path along the Shawangunk Ridge Trail. We’ll save the Orange County portion for a bike ride at a later date. Off Route 17 in Sullivan County, up a gravel road. No one out driving, but lots of pickup trucks in the yards. It’s always amazing how quickly you can get to a truly rural area. Why did a Smart Car just go by? Wurtsboro is a land of contradictions.

Ditch the car, stride into the woods, cross into another dimension. The Green Zone. The trees are very lush and happy; lots of rain lately. The woods don’t have that dry, brown August thing going on. Electric-colored fungi are poking up randomly, and all the berries are big and juicy. We sample blackberries, blueberries, huckleberries and wintergreen. Uh-oh…somebody else had the same idea, and they left an enormous chunk of scat on the trail. Definitely could be a black bear. Judging by the size of its calling card, it could be as big as a Smart Car!

Out on a ledge, with a great view of the ridge across the valley. Nothin’ but trees. In the bottom of the valley, however, there are a couple of strange things. An enormous rectangle? The Long Path Guide book says that it is a Kohls warehouse. It’s really big. Next to that is a tiny airport. We watch gliders getting towed behind airplanes, then being released to swoop around and float slowly down to the runway. Where did humans get this idea? A sharp cry reminds us; it’s a red-tailed hawk soaring on thermal air currents. We wonder if the hawk’s scream will scare a little critter into making a crazy dash across the clearing. We find several little critters, but they are bright orange salamanders, and they ignore both us and the hawk.

Oddly, we are following blue plastic disks, instead of LP blue blazes. The disks lead us down into a valley with a maze of streams flowing around and under the massive root systems of beautiful trees: birches, cottonwoods and maples. The streams appear and disappear suddenly at the bases of trees; tiny pools are full of tinier frogs; the burbling sounds join to form a watery symphony. Major Tom loves this spot, and Silent Panther is even more impressed. My feet are soaked, but I am still smiling.

Up the other side of the valley, there are memories of fire all around us: some trees blackened and dead, some with charred trunks but new leaves sprouting forth in odd places. Lots of undergrowth taking advantage of the increase in sunlight. We use burned sticks to draw our signs on a rock. Silent Panther draws his footprint (claws out), and I draw the shape I found on a rock carving years ago: two curving parallel lines approaching an ellipse. I think it is a symbol or a map, but an expert on petroglyphs said that it is a coincidence of natural weathering. I gave the rock to the Ramapough Lenape, but I have adopted the symbol as my sign.

The next summit is covered with more blueberries than I have ever seen. I eat hundreds (or at least dozens). There are pitch pines and scrub oak, and more bear scat. We look around nervously. The woods seem really quiet all of a sudden, and we are pretty creeped out. As we sneak around the curving trail, we are confronted with an awesome sight: a huge mountain in the distance. “Mt. Doom!,” whispers Silent Panther. The LP Guide suggests that it is actually our first glimpse of the Catskills, but I am not so sure. Definitely a spooky vibe.

Down again, toward Roosa Gap, and we are getting very tired. The climb up to Ferguson Road is tough. Must be snack time. Reaching the road, we find it hard to believe that we have only hiked for 3 miles. I guess we have to hike back about…3 miles. Next time, we will bring two cars, so we don’t have to double our hiking distance. After popcorn and granola bars, we feel a bit stronger. I hang my socks up to dry, which helps a little. Silent Panther sneezes, and is answered by some small furry critter, who lets out a burst of mammalian static. Another sneeze, another screech in response! What the heck was that?

Must be time to start stumbling back. The downhill is not so bad, and we cross Roosa Gap in short order. Climbing the other side is more of a challenge. I’m slowing down, and SP is getting farther ahead; I guess he is in better shape than me. By the top of the ridge, I am really dragging. Even trudging down through the burned forest is not too cool; we have been discovered by clouds of gnats. We start to have a negative attitude toward this whole expedition. It is taking us from 9 til 5 to hike three miles, including driving and re-tracing our steps. Feeling sore and tired and hot and soggy and then…

We are floating up the hill! Those gliders have nothing on us; we are borne aloft by the wings of the hikers’ high! No more pain or fatigue. SP says that his legs feel very heavy and very light at the same time. I wonder if my brain is releasing endorphins; my feet do not seem to touch the ground. The last few hills and valleys pose no challenge at all. Our moods lift, and we laugh and joke for the final mile. Everything seems possible, and we talk about upcoming expeditions.

I stop to pick a cup of blackberries for the family. As we glide out of the woods and onto the gravel road, the Smart Car comes driving back in the opposite direction. What a bizarre coincidence. I wonder what he was doing for his 9 to 5. He probably went more than 3 miles. Oh well, we feel good, and we can highlight another chunk of the Long Path on the map on the wall of SP’s room. That was fun…let’s do some more next week.