Goodbye to North Lake

Silent Panther and I reached the last high peak of the Central Catskills. We do need to go back and finish a section farther South (we hiked up Slide Mountain, and back the same way). Once again, we stayed in the North South Lake campground, which is a magical place. On previous visits, we did not have the opportunity to fully appreciate the campground. This time, we experienced it to the max!

We woke up cold and stiff on Tuesday morning, fumbling around in the dark for our packs. I went with my second-best shoes, since the best pair got soaked in last evening’s storm (along with all our camping gear!).

We drove 30 minutes to drop a car at the end of the hike, at Elm Ridge Wild Forest. Ours was the only car in the parking lot. It was cold for August! The sun was rising and the fog was amazing. Then we drove back to the beginning of the hike, the familiar parking lot at the end of Big Hollow Road. We hiked up toward the Escarpment Trail, in a dense mist. Silent Panther went back for his sweatshirt, and was grateful to have it. We crossed the Batavia Kill on a couple of nice wooden bridges.

The ground was wet, and there were amphibians everywhere, like Lucky Newt:

We reached the Long Path/Escarpment Trail at the top of the ridge, and headed North.

At Acra Point, there was not much of a view. Farther along the trail, we got a good look at our upcoming challenge, Burnt Knob.

We walked down into a valley, then back up again to the Knob. Here we had a great view West to the Blackhead Range. From left to right, the peaks are named Blackhead, Black Dome and Thomas Cole mountains.

Looking North, we could see our next workout, Windham High Peak:

Back down into another valley, then up to the Peak. Here we found the dramatically-named “Great Northern Viewpoint.”

The mountains are shorter as you go North from here, and the views less spectacular. This picture shows some of the hills to the North that we will have to climb on the way to Altamont.

We descended from Windham High Peak, heading into Big Hollow. We saw a couple of interesting things: a bear footprint and a cool snake.

Unfortunately, I developed a big blister on my little toe, so the last couple of miles were painful! When we arrived at the Elm Ridge parking lot, there were lots of cars, and people biking on the trails.

Finishing the 10 miles early gave us time to enjoy the campground. After years of returning too late, we finally had a nice swim and soak in North Lake when we got back to camp. We did some fishing, and explored the shoreline. It’s easy to see how artists like Thomas Cole were inspired by this beautiful area.

Bridges & Boulders, Part 1

                                            by  Major Tom

Silent Panther and Major Tom had a crazy idea…a 2-day hike in the Southern Catskills! We would do Samson Mountain and Bangle Hill the first day, camp at Sundown Primitive Campground, and hike Peekamoose and Table Mountain the second day. What could go wrong?

Day 1 was a 10-mile hike from Riggsville to Bull Run. The weather was great, we got an early start, and life was peachy keen. We left a car at Sundown, drove down to Upper Cherrytown Road, and got rolling.

Even though we started with a long uphill climb, we were amazed at our progress…we were averaging 2 miles per hour over rough terrain! We took pictures at the beautiful Vernooy Falls…would have been happy to spend the day there. In fact, we both had a nice Hikers’ High, and were in great spirits J

We crossed countless streams, over innumerable bridges, every shape, size and style. The first wildflowers were opening up, almost before our eyes. There was virtually no animal activity visible, and hardly any bird calls. We literally did not see a single other hiker in 6 hours. It was a beautiful day…where was everybody?

Maybe they were scared away by the “steep and long” descent at the end of the hike! Ascending Bangle Hill was smooth sailing, but the downhill was brutal and interminable. We have hiked many trails over several years, done much longer hikes, and climbed up and down slopes where all fours were required. But never has a hill taken such an epic toll on the knees! Perhaps because the old wood road was so long and steep, perhaps because the slope never changed, I don’t know. But Major Tom had to stop and rest his knees a few times.

Silent Panther was giddy and goofy. He said “The farther down I go, the higher I get!” We followed a beautiful stream with endless small waterfalls, over a mile of straight descent in a V-shaped valley. When we got to the trail register at the bottom, Major Tom wobbled over to sign out. The previous entry read: “Bangle Hill. Steep descent? Nah.” We assumed that was Hikers’ Sarcasm.

As the trail reached Peekamoose Road, there was an enormous boulder decorated with grafitti. We were impressed to see that Kim Jon Ill (sic) had left his calling card! As we walked to the campsite, we felt that our tribulations were all behind us. Little did we know…

Since we had made such good time, we had plenty of daylight to set up camp. We wrangled the tent together, and built a nice fire. There was no electricity, no running water, no cell service, but hey…it was the wilderness! As the fire dimmed, the stars blazed. We saw the Big Dipper, Orion, Taurus and the Pleidaes. When it got really dark, we saw the Milky Way, which is not visible at home. While looking for a meteor, we found the International Space Station, and followed its orbit. All this while enjoying sandwiches and water! Life was good.

But…as the night progressed, the temperature dropped alarmingly. Major Tom’s sleeping bag turned out to be lacking a zipper. This proved troublesome all night, as his feet turned into blocks of ice! We woke up to frost in the morning, gulped down a cold breakfast, and hit the road. The adventures of the second day will be chronicled by Silent Panther, in Part 2.

However, I would like to end Part 1 on a happy note. Back in the 1970’s, I had visited my Aunt Helen in Ithaca, NY. She took my family to the Cornell Ornithology Lab, and we met the legendary Peter Paul Kellogg. He taught us the call of the Barred Owl: “Who cooks for you? Who cooks for you all?” In all the years since, I have never heard that call in nature (although I have imitated it for many young uns).

As night fell on day 1, we heard an owl across the stream. It was saying “Who cooks? Who cooks?” I was disappointed, because I did not recognize that call. But toward morning, after a long night of tossing and turning and freezing, I heard what seemed to be the same owl. And this time, it asked about “you all”. Thank you, Mr. Kellogg.

Bridges & Boulders, part 2

                               by Silent Panther

After somehow surviving a nearly sleepless night in the freezing cold, we got up at the crack of dawn and prepared for the second day of hiking.  We said goodbye to our campsite, never more grateful for the heating systems in our cars, before driving and dropping off the cars at each end of the hike.  Along the way we spotted two glorious bald eagles perched in the trees and made sure to stop to get a picture.

Shortly after we began hiking we realized we were in for a long day.  Unlike the previous day’s hike which began with optimism and was easier than expected, this hike was initially marked by fatigue and frustration.  We were sore and sleep-deprived and quickly became dismayed as the hike began with a long series of steep, never-ending inclines.  We were certain the guide’s mile markers were off as it took an eternity to scale Peekamoose Mountain. 

Our spirits eventually brightened when we reached a series of landmarks:  outcrops of large boulders, a spring, and a sign confirming that we had reached 3,500 feet in elevation, which the soreness in our legs told us was a drastic understatement.  The views from the top of Peekamoose gave us an idea of why we were crazy enough to do this in the first place as we gazed out upon the endless hills and serene fields of the Catskills.

After a much needed rest in the midst of a dwarf spruce forest straight out of Lord of the Rings, we flew down the surprisingly snowy trail with new life in our battered bodies.  

An easier ascent up Table Mountain was followed by a painful, knee-punishing descent.  Additional misery arrived when we realized we weren’t done going uphill.  We had to scale two hills described as “small knolls” which looked more like Himalayan horrors.  Our reward for conquering the knolls was an awesome log bridge which carried us high over a crystal clear stream.

  We encountered a few more bridges, as well as some campers, as we ground out the final stretch of the hike and triumphantly exited out onto Denning Road, having conquered 18 miles of rough Long Path hiking in two epic days.

From Napanoch to Riggsville, Southern Catskills

The Hex Sign Says Wilkom

Cows Leading a Decent Life

Soaking Up the Sunshine

Epic Scarecrow

The Pony and the Donkey

The Southern Catskills

Red Berries

Beautiful Boathouse

A Greenhouse Named "Camelot"

We Saw 2 Rainbows, and then This One

Paper Birches and White Pines

Weeping Willows and a Farm Pond

Tired But Happy!

The Ears Have It: Wawarsing-along

What a beautiful day for a hike! We begin with a chilly fog, that lifts to reveal a gorgeous Fall day. But it is the sounds that make this a magical hike. As Jerry said, "Wake now, discover that you are the song that the morning brings."

We pick up where we left off, on Berme Road. A few inches of blacktop have been added to the surface, so it isn't easy to find a place for the "Ferrari" to ease onto the shoulder. But Silent Panther and I work it out, with the sound of tires scrunching on the gravel. The last time we were here, a year ago, we were rescuing dogs. Berme Road winds on for miles, with rarely a passerby in either direction. We head West.

The most amazing sound is the absence of sound. We walk among ghosts: along the towpath of the old D&H Canal, not hearing the shouts and animal noises of yesteryear...along the railroad bed, over chunks of coal, not hearing the steam trains.


Bridge on the Canal Towpath

An exquisitely beautiful community of houses and trailers, so rich in Nature. Kids home for Yom Kippur, playing with dogs, joyful sounds. We cross not only the gorgeous Rondout Creek, babbling yet brilliant, but also the Ver Nooy Kill, smaller in stature, and eager to make up for that with enthusiasm. Happy noises of aeration and deposition. Epic bridges.

Through the cornfields...the ears are still there! Perhaps they must dry out before they become food for dairy cows. The wind makes a mysterious sound as it disturbs the leaves...it sounds like people whispering, or maybe spirits. I suppose that Corn Spirits would be benevolent. We wonder why raccoons or crows haven't eaten the corn.

Across 209, and left on Lundy Road. It would be tough to get pizza delivery up here, but what an amazing neighborhood. The babbling of the Ver Nooy Kill is constant yet ever-changing. Rapids and pools, water moving around bedrock and snags tells stories of adventures upstream. 

The electrical wires on the poles diminish to one. Pavement is a distant memory. The river sounds more confident now, rarely having to compete with human noises. A dam. Rapids. A swimming hole. Steep slopes all around. The sounds get stranger! An oddly human cry repeated at intervals turns out to be a rooster...could there really be a farm or a home up there?

Gunshots! We wince instinctively. People use the wild lands in different ways. Hopefully the target-shooter has good aim...we would like to hike without being hit. The shots are in groups of 5, repeated in intervals. Hopefully he is hitting something appropriate. Shortly he drives back down, a grim look on his face. We breathe a sigh of relief.

Upon reaching the quarry parking lot, we turn around. The next leg of the Path will have to wait til the bone spur in my right foot decides to be more accomodating. Right now, 5.6 miles is about all I can handle!

Magic moment. The shadow of my vulture passes right in front of me, on the trail It seems that the same bird has been leading me for years now. I don't catch a glimpse this time, but I'm sure that one wing feather is still askew. Big smile.

  We scramble down to a gorgeous waterfall and pool on the Kill. The sound is inscrutable, ancient and bold.

We began to feel lightheaded on the way back down. The Autumn leaves falling, in their thousands,sound like distant applause. We take our bows, stumbling downhill through the dappled sunlight. Silent Panther moves beyond his name, reminiscing about paths traveled, and yet to be met. Next time we will forge onward and upward....10 miles, to heck with the bone spur!

Back at the Ferrari, we say Goodbye to Berme Road. It feels like we have been here many times. Looking around one more time, it seems like such a lonely and valuable place. Maybe it's the sound of all the ghosts, still walking the trails and towpaths. Maybe it needs to be lonely. As Jerry said, "Sometimes the songs that we sing are just songs of our own."

Barred Owls, Bella, Bandit & Bear Poop

We finished the Shawangunk section of the Long Path! But at what cost? Silent Panther and I did 13 miles from Sam’s Point to Berme Road. Three days later, we are still reckoning the physical and emotional toll. Was it all worth it? If you ask me in a few years, I will probably say “Yes.” Speaking of years, I realize that I now have too many of them! My knees, calves and feet are unanimous that any future hikes should be a maximum of 10 miles…

So, Silent Panther said we should leave before dawn, and watch the sun rise as we drove up the Thruway. Sure, nice idea! We were up at 4 AM, and on the road by 5. It was definitely still pitch black as we took the big curve at Hillburn. As we approached Woodbury, the huge fields on the right were covered in a thick layer of ground fog. A spectacular and spooky sight. We took the New Paltz exit, and zig-zagged up the mountain. At the scenic overlook, there was a superb sunrise. Thus far, our timing was perfect.

Berme Road was a pretty cool discovery…people living the good life, truly out in the woods. We left Goku on the shoulder, and made the bizarre journey to Cragsmoor. Such a charming town…on top of a mountain! Everything was going great, but: the gate at Sam’s Point was locked! No parking allowed anywhere else. Uh oh, I hope they open at 8:00 AM. We drove to the nearest deli (a loooong drive) to kill some time. Another customer said that she had seen a black bear that morning. Interesting! But not relevant to us, right? Riiiight?

Back at the gate…it was still locked at 8:10! But who is that behind us? She whipped out a key and drove on in. I pulled up behind her and she closed the gate on the nose of the Ferrari! (Okay, it’s not actually an Italian supercar, but I did put a Ferrari logo on the hood of my 1999 Celica). I protested, and Ranger Rita said that the gate opens at 9:00. I told her of our dreams and aspirations for the day, and she agreed to open the gate a bit early. Wow. Okay. We cooled our heels til 8:50, when they finally let us in. $10 (!) to park in the old Ice Caves parking lot, now part of Minnewaska State Park. SP and I were off and hiking by 9 AM.

Well, we were pain free and full of energy as we set out. The awesome views started almost immediately; you gotta love the ‘Gunks! After about a mile, we decided to take a detour to check out the Ice Caves. If this decision had come at the end of our journey, when we were dragging ourselves along the last mile, the idea of extra distance would have been laughed off (with an exhausted and very dry laugh J. In any case the caves were super cool, and are highly recommended.

We then set off through miles of blueberry scrub and pitch pines, heading North along a ridge. Then down into a valley with a spectacular waterfall on Verkeeder Kill. Then around the other side of the ridge, with multiple viewpoints from stacks of sedimentary rocks. By the time we reached High Point, we had hiked about 7 miles. We were tired, but not in bad shape…yet! We had drunk more than half of our water, though…nice hot day with strong sunshine.

After that point, things started to get really weird. For one thing, we had a bizarre series of wildlife encounters. There was a crusty old crow, who flew back and forth across our path for an hour, repeating his raspy retorts. There were many tiny toads hopping along our trail. There was…Bear Poop! Huge and purple and full of blueberries! Not be outdone, the local coyotes had shat early and often. In one case, a coyote had pooped on top of a stone cairn that was marking the trail. Impressive product placement!

We took a short detour to Panther Rock. We did not speak, but climbed silently to separate perches, where we remained alone with our thoughts for awhile. A magical spot.

Then, things got weirder. Rounding a corner, we saw a pitbull staring us down! We froze and the dog froze too. After 5 seconds, I yelled out, “There’s a dog here!”, figuring that the owner was nearby. Suddenly, the dog turned and ran down the trail, dragging its leash behind. After a respectful pause, we rounded the corner, prepared to encounter a neglectful owner. But what was this? Another pitbull, this one stuck with its leash wrapped around a boulder. How strange…if you did let your dogs run free, why wouldn’t you remove their leashes? The dog seemed calm, but I did not dare approach it. We were miles from any human contact.

We headed on down the trail, but the dog owner never materialized. We started to come up with scenarios that would explain the situation. Silent Panther is a true animal lover, and he expressed his concern that the second canine might be trapped there all night. Okay, I said, I will make one phone call…

That call was to the Minnewaska Park office, and it caused me to be called back by the Park Rangers, the Sheriff, the Animal Control officer, and the dog owners. I spent a LOT of time on the phone, while still hiking down the trail. We were exhausted, and trying to conserve our remaining water. We learned that Bella had run down the trail, and Bandit was stuck on the rock. Rangers had set out from Sam’s Point…but that was 9 miles away! I suggested that the owners hike up from Berme Road, which was only 3 miles from the stranded pooch.

Well, the last couple of miles turned into a surreal journey. SP became delirious, and went laughing and dancing down the trail. I had hit a wall, physically, and was feeling a lot of pain in my calves, knees and right foot. I kept hearing a strange rhythm behind us, a type of clicking. Finally an enormous hound burst into view! Bandit had snapped his nylon web leash clean in two, and escaped his rocky prison. He turned out to be very friendly and obedient. I called his owner, who was waiting at the trailhead. She was happy, but where was Bella? Her husband would walk up the hill toward us, calling her.

Sure enough, we heard a loud vocalization in the woods, but it did not sound human. I finally recognized the call of a barred owl…very cool! We never did encounter the hubby, but that story has a happy ending. Silent Panther and I finally stumbled out of the woods at 5 PM. It had taken us 8 hours to cover 13 miles of rugged terrain, with dramatic changes in elevation. Bandit was reunited with his mom. We collected the other vehicle, and made it home safely. I swore that I would never try to hike over 10 miles again. Before I went to sleep, I called the dog owner one last time. Bella was home safe. All’s well that ends well! 

Big Cat Clove

            We didn’t see any big cats, but we could feel their presence. Hiking up the Kaaterskill Clove, we had the sensation of being watched. Which cliffside cave had a pair of big bright eyes, just out of view? Silent Panther and I had an amazing experience walking from Palenville up to North Lake, in the beautiful and mysterious Catskills.

            After a couple of years, we are finally back on the Long Path! Most of the remaining sections are 10 miles or more, so we picked this 5-mile trail to get back into the swing of things. It’s a nice smooth path, but an impressive increase in elevation. Both of us felt our ears pop on the way up. And the spookiest part: an invisible army of Canadians we could hear in the distance…singing their national anthem!

            We used two cars for this trip, which made for less hiking, but more driving. We left the first Subaru (“I’m Number Two!”) down on route 23A, just outside Sarah Palinville. I think you can see Russia from here. Then we drove the other Subaru (“Goku”) up to North Lake State Campground. Twisting and turning around the mountain roads, over dramatic gorges, along beautiful waterfalls…

            Anyway, there was a problem this time: massive road construction projects. I don’t know if these bridges were damaged during Irene or what, but there are still epic attempts to fix the crossings. We had to pass through the construction zones multiple times to jockey the vehicles around. Finally, we had the cars positioned, and we were ready to roll.

            Silent Panther is about to be a Senior in college. His school is up near the North end of the Long Path. We will enjoy all the sections of the trail that are in the Catskills. This part is very smooth sailing: an old carriage road. Even though we were climbing steeply, the path is pretty smooth. And the bedrock here is very forgiving. We are accustomed to the hard igneous diabase of Rockland County and the primordial metamorphic rocks of Harriman Park. These Catskill sedimentary rocks form nice flat layers and steps. Much easier for hiking. And, they form epic caves, cliffs and overhangs. We found several shelters that would be perfect for big cats.

            To get an idea of the views and the history of the area, you can read the excellent Long Path guide on the NY-NJ Trail Conference website. I will just say that the 5 miles went by in a fluid, feline manner. Major Tom started floating on the Hikers’ High about halfway up. Silent Panther claimed he wasn’t feeling it, but he sure was smiling a lot. I kept a lookout for my vulture friends, but never saw any. It seemed like a perfect sunny day for rising air currents, but nobody was riding them.

            But the Big Cats were nearby; we could feel them. I would scan a cave way up the hillside, and know that my glance was just a split second too late. Something large and limber had eased back into the dark recesses. A memory of a wilder time? A spiritual presence? A smaller cat who is living large? I know there is something magical and feline up there.

            The trail took us up along Kaaterskill Clove, with beautiful views all around. The wooden trail signs were contradictory and confusing, but the LP Guide had it right, as did the map from the campground. Halfway along, we had great views to the East, featuring miles and miles of the Hudson River. Split Rock and Boulder Rock are both pretty cool. The Canadians were singing again as we approached the old Mountain House site. Suddenly, we found the coolest cave of all.

            This deep dark recess was formed by a huge flat slab of rock perched on a much smaller erosional remnant. The resulting cave was the same height all around, going way back and back and back. Silent Panther got really quiet, feeling the presence of a kindred spirit. He said “Dad, there MUST be something living in there…” and I said “Oh, yeah!”

            We bounced down the other side of the hill, on a much more rocky and twisty path, hopping from boulder to boulder. Too soon we were in the parking lot at North Lake. What a great hike! So many special things to see and feel in just 5 miles. Driving home in silence, we thought about the power and the mystery of the mountains, and the magical creatures just out of reach…