Appalachian Trail Section Hike #4: NY Route 52 to Bear Mountain Bridge and ‘orphan’ section between NY Route 17A & NY Route 17.
Dates: 4/7/05 – 4/10/05
Participants: Tim & Jeff, adding Mike and Shannon on Friday evening.
Thursday April 7th
Tim and I agreed to meet in the parking lot of the Bear Mountain Inn to leave my truck before driving up to the RPH Shelter and then onto NY Route 52. I arrived at 15:00 and found a deli to provide subs for dinner. Tim arrived just a few minutes after I returned to the Bear Mountain parking lot and we were off towards the Taconic Parkway by 15:45. We found the RPH Shelter after a brief ‘detour’ and dropped our packs. I was a little apprehensive about leaving my pack (and more importantly my deli dinner!) in an empty shelter, but there was a residence right next door and the neighbor’s were outside doing chores. I did take my camera, .mp3 player, poles and a water bottle along as we drove up to NY 52. It didn’t take long to find the trail crossing and parking area and we set off for a quick 5.1-mile slack-pack at 16:50.
Stalking Tortoise ready to slack-pack
We cruised the trail without our heavy packs. Slack-packing is hiking bliss! We didn’t see another person but I did jumped a bunch of deer as we descended towards the Parkway and a few more just before we made it back to the shelter. It only took us 2.25 hours to cover the first section of the weekend. The RPH shelter is a cinder block building with windows, bunk beds, chairs and a covered porch with a picnic table – a very comfortable place indeed. Our packs and subs were undisturbed and we sat at the table while enjoying a delicious meal. After dinner, we weighed our options – either stay at RPH or hike another 1.3 miles to the Shenandoah tent site. It was easy to come up with excuses to wimp out any stay put. A minute or two after we decided to stay, we saw a lightning flash and heard the rain begin to fall. As I wrote in the shelter log the next morning, “We’re brilliant!” Much better than admitting that we’re wimps….
Tim and I relaxed at the covered picnic table as the rain fell. Our main goal for the night was to drink all of the booze in my pack so my load would be lighter in the morning. I presented Tim with a heavy glass mini-bottle of single-malt scotch while I sipped on cognac – the same cognac that I had carried for 17.6 miles in November. We may stink, but we’re still civilized! Then we worked on the Fire Water schnapps until it was gone. Nothing beats relaxing inside of a clean, dry shelter while the rain falls harmlessly outside. Satisfied that we had done all that we could do, we retired to our separate bunks and listened to music for a while before going to sleep around 23:00.
Friday April 8th
The plan was to put in a big mileage day and reach the Graymoor Spiritual Center. Camping is permitted at the ball field pavilion adjacent to the monastery. Mike and Shannon were driving down to Bear Mountain from Boston and were going to hike the 7.0 miles north to Graymoor to meet up with us. We woke up at 05:15, packed up, took care of business in the fancy RPH privy, and hit the trail with headlamps at 06:00. The first part of the trail was a muddy mess but soon got better as we climbed Shenandoah Mountain. By the time we reached the tent site, we were glad that we didn’t try to get there last night in the dark and rain. The temperatures hadn’t dropped much overnight although the sky remained overcast. We hiked strongly and reached the first road crossing at 07:24. My stomach told me that this was an excellent place for breakfast so we took an extended break. Tim set out before me and started a pattern of hiking out in front while waiting for me to catch up at the road crossings.
By the time we reached Dennytown Road at 12:30, we were both ready for a lunch break. There was a water spigot on the side of a pump house but it was not yet turned on for the season. Damn. It would have been nice to re-hydrate and fill the bottles during the break. The sun had finally broken through the clouds and it was becoming much warmer. I nursed my remaining water with my tuna bagel while we searched the map for the next possible water source. There was a stream at the base of the next mountain but neither of us wanted to carry the extra weight during the climb. Great thinking, since we would have gladly filled up at the pump house. As we climbed and hiked further south, I felt my lips getting dry. Fortunately, there was a stream running down the mountain close to the summit and we both took a long break to filter water and re-hydrate.
Here it was approaching 15:00 and we had only covered 13 or our required 18.8 miles. Misery would be a good word to describe our outlook. Our average pace was dropping and we still had hours to go. Denning Hill was an especially challenging climb. It looked like we were going to head straight for the rocky summit but then the trail turned back down the ridge. Finally, it did turn back uphill for one last steep push to the top. After that, we only had 2 miles to go and found the strength to pick up the pace a bit. One thing that helped was an awesome piece of trail maintenance – someone had raked all of the leaves from the trail! The leaves weren’t nearly as bad as last November’s hike, but they still partially hid rocks and roots on the footpath. On this 1-mile section, we could take full strides and see what was underfoot. It was a pleasant surprise just when we needed it.
Tim had called Mike and confirmed that both he and Shannon were already at the pavilion shelter. My understanding of the location and directions to the pavilion were poor but we finally dragged our sorry asses into the shelter by 19:15, over thirteen hours after we had left RPH. This is when we wished we had hiked the 1.3 miles to the tent site last night. I was exhausted to the point where I couldn’t even offer any conversation. The four of us had the shelter to ourselves. In fact, we had only seen two day-hikers and their dog (which bit Tim) and an elderly couple at the Route 301 road crossing over the entire 18.9-mile section.
The Graymoor Pavilion – A sight for sore legs
As the sun began to set, the temperatures dropped dramatically to the point that we all had to put on jackets and long pants to keep warm. The first issue was that the water spigot was not turned on next to the shelter. The four of us took inventory of all of our water bottles and found that we had just enough to cook dinner. After a large cup of hot chocolate and a surprisingly good meal of freeze-dried Pasta Primavera, I felt human enough to set up my bed using a folded table as an insulator from the concrete floor. I offered to tent in the field but Shannon and Mike insisted that I sleep in the pavilion. I think that they could tell how painful it would have been for me to set up my tent in the wind and dark. Tim opted to tent out – probably to escape my snoring. The temperatures continued to drop into the 30’s and the wind whipped through the open pavilion. I burrowed deeper into my sleeping bag and fell asleep close to 21:00.
Saturday, April 9th
I woke up right at 06:00 as Mike walked past me for a bathroom break. As much as I wanted to roll over and go back to sleep, I couldn’t pass up photographing the view of the sunrise over the hills and trees past the field.
No one was in any hurry this morning since we only had a 7.1-mile hike down to the Bear Mountain Inn and then an additional 2.1 miles later in the day to the Wildcat Shelter. Tim got dressed first and collected all of the empty water bottles before setting off to find a spigot at one of the many buildings on the grounds. Mike and Shannon got moving before he arrived. During the night, Shannon had been convinced that a coyote was making off with her dirty Tupperware from last night’s dinner. Daylight confirmed that it might have only been the sounds of someone snoring, as the container was unharmed. While packing up and preparing for breakfast, I took note of a large can of Manwich Sloppy Joe in the shelter’s hiker box. With unanimous approval, I stashed the can inside of a trash bag at the bottom of Tim’s pack. However, we also agreed to stop Tim from carrying the can if he didn’t notice it while packing up. After all, we’re nice folks!
Tim returned with full water bottles and we cooked a leisurely breakfast. We were all still pretty tired and sore and no one did an impressive job of watching the pot on the stove while it boiled away unattended. This would prove to be an issue the next day. I finally got the directions right for the Huevo Rancheros and enjoyed them much better without the crunchiness. Tim found the can of Manwich as he packed up and threatened payback. I was very slow with my clean up and packing and was the last one to leave the pavilion at 09:00. The sun was already crested over the eastern ridges and it started to warm up quickly. Since we had skipped 0.1 mile of the trail in our search for the shelter, we chose to bushwhack across a side hill to find it instead of retracing our steps from the previous evening. By 09:15, we had hiked the 0.1-mile piece of trail, emptied the trash from our packs into a conveniently located receptacle, and were ready to head for Bear Mountain.
There were only two climbs on this section but both of them were tough after yesterday’s torture. I was really lagging behind on the climbs but made good time on the ensuing ridge walks. My only pack-off break came after the halfway point. When the Hudson River finally came into view, I was ecstatic. During the steep descent, I passed two pairs of couples out for day hikes and met up with the rest of my group at the bottom where we walked single file across the Bear Mountain Bridge. This is where it kind of becomes surreal. The trail enters the Bear Mountain Zoo through the service entrance and winds through the various displays. At the bear enclosure, the trail is reported to be at its lowest point of 124 feet above sea level. Too bad the bear was hiding while we passed. From the looks on the visitor’s faces, we were as much of an attraction as the pitiful animals. After the zoo, the trail crosses under NY 9W in a tunnel and passes through the grounds surrounding the Bear Mountain Inn. Again, we were quite a sight and many people stared as we passed by. At 13:13, Tim and I reached the signpost where we had started last November’s section and clicked our poles together to mark the end of this section. The Bear Mountain Bridge
Tim and I hung out at my truck drinking Cokes and eating chips while Shannon and Mike lounged at their car. We took advantage of the time by emptying our packs of all non-essential gear for the last 12.3-mile orphan hike. After we were sufficiently rested, I led the way to the deli that I found on Thursday afternoon. The service wasn’t fast but the sandwiches were tasty and the outside picnic table was comfortable. Mike and I made use of the behind-the-counter bathroom / janitor’s closet while Tim and Shannon opted to wait for more eloquent facilities. We finished packing, dressing wounds and getting rid of our trash before heading down to position the vehicles for the orphan section. After a quick stop at a convenience store for eggs and a not-so eloquent bathroom, we dropped my truck off at the Elk Pen parking area and crammed our gear into Shannon’s Subaru for the ride up to the NY Route 17A trail crossing.
Physically, I was pretty beat up. My left heel had an abrasion and my right heel was sporting two huge blisters that I had covered with duct tape. While hiking, all of the foot pain would eventually dull and subside, but every rest stop allowed the pain to return. Putting my boots back on at the NY 17A road crossing was a major chore. In addition, my arms and nose had received the first sunburn of the year due to the clear sunny skies. Mentally however, I was more than ready to finish the 2.1 miles to the Wildcat Shelter so I could take the boots back off and rest for a full evening. While everyone else was packing up, I set off and flew up the gently sloped trail. Everything was going well until I reached a blue-blazed trail just before the Eastern Pinnacle rock formation. I assumed that it was simply a by-pass trail around the rocks but didn’t want anyone else in the group to think it was the shelter trail. This is why everyone should carry a copy of the trail descriptions. Tim showed up after a few minutes and I explained that the shelter trail was still one mile ahead. Another by-pass trail intersected the AT at Cat Rocks and I asked a southbound day hiker to let Tim know that I would leave my hiking poles at the shelter trail to serve as a landmark. However, the shelter trail was clearly marked and I hurried to get to my objective. Even with my short wait for Tim and a couple of stops for pictures, I dropped my pack inside the shelter at 17:20 – just over an hour. Much to my surprise, the shelter was empty. That gave us a three-for-three record for unoccupied shelters on this trip.
Our exhaustion was clearly evident. Once we all arrived, the first order of business was simply to sit or lie down for a while. Only the setting sun and cooling temperatures hastened our efforts to fix dinner and get fully settled in for the night. We celebrated Tim’s upcoming 40th birthday with Bailey’s Irish Crème and sortilege. Lights out was around 21:00 but I stayed awake closer to 22:00 listening to music and stereo snoring from Mike and Tim. Rank amateurs, in my opinion….
The Wildcat Shelter and three tired hikers
Sunday, April 10th
I didn’t sleep as well as I did at Graymoor but the rest did my body good. Tim recounted a disturbing dream he had. We all had seen a red glove laying in the trail but no one had stopped to pick it up or move it. In Tim’s dream, he picked up the glove and found that a hand was still inside. Also, both Shannon and Tim heard howling last night and wondered if the coyote from the zoo was coming to get us. Or the dirty Tupperware….
Our plan for the morning was simple – hike 2.1 miles to the Fitzgerald Falls and stop for water and egg sandwiches. Here’s a good time to recount the egg story. Tim had decided to pack in fresh eggs for Sunday’s breakfast. The fist batch of eggs had gotten warm in a cooler in my truck while we hiked Thursday through Saturday afternoon and were thrown away at Bear Mountain. When we stopped at the convenience store on the way to NY 17A, the Middle Eastern clerk didn’t understand that Tim was willing to pay for a dozen eggs but only needed six. As a result, six more eggs were thrown away. When we reached the falls, I fired up the stove to boil water and THEN cook the eggs. As I was pumping water, Tim alerted me that the stove had gone out. I tried pumping and re-lighting it but we couldn’t get a flame. There was much lamenting from the group with woes about wasting fuel at Graymoor while the water boiled excessively and that we had not taken any of the Coleman fuel that was left at the Wildcat shelter. Tim did the only responsible thing he could do – he flung the eggs into the woods. 18 eggs and not one of them was eaten. It was then that I opened the fuel bottle and saw that was still a small amount of fuel left and that we could have cooked at least a couple of eggs. Even though we were able to piece together a replacement meal, I still felt bad that I had not packed a bigger fuel bottle. It sucks to be fuelish!
The Fitzgerald Falls
Dejected, Tim headed out first to climb the trail next to the falls. Soon after, Mike and Shannon passed me as I put myself in trudge-mode up the steep slopes. We met up at the West Mombasha Road crossing and then the East Mombasha Road crossing. In between these two roads was a sadistic climb up a rock wall to reach the summit of Buchanan Mountain. The trail profile showed no hint of this climb and we were all pretty beat by the time we finished. There was another quick up & down before we reached the Orange Turnpike. The trail blazing had become pretty poor through this stretch and we had to bushwhack on the far side of the Turnpike to regain the trail.
The good news was that we only had 2.1 miles remaining. The bad news was that we had a tough climb followed by a bunch of demoralizing short climbs. The sun was out in full force and today and my sunburn was throbbing as badly as my blistered feet. Whenever possible, we would take our breaks or breathers in the shade. But since it was getting past noon, shade was in short supply. Mike and Shannon somehow found the strength to push on ahead of us while Tim and I kept within sight of each other. After a hiker’s eternity, we reached the top of the slope known as Agony Grind. I could see NY 17, the NY Thruway and most importantly, the parking area and my truck. The descent was better than climbing up this slope, but the leaves were as bad as last fall in regards to boot traction. Nothing could describe the relief of getting to the bottom without falling and knowing that cold beverages were waiting a mere 0.3 miles away. Tim and I walked in to the parking area together at 14:15 with Mike and Shannon applauding our efforts. We shed backs, boots, socks and dirty clothes while gulping cold Cokes. Both Tim and I washed up a bit before loading all of the gear into the back of my Chevy and heading back to Greenwood Lake. We took a quick vote and decided to eat before picking up the
N.Y. Thruway and Arden Valley Rd. Bridge from Agony Grind
Subaru on top of the ridge. The diner was closing shortly so we all ordered quickly. The fuel issue was burned deep into my consciousness when Tim, Mike and Shannon all ordered…. egg sandwiches.
After a brief delay at a police roadblock (buckle up, Mr. Sox), we reached the Subaru and transferred the gear from one vehicle to another. Shannon, Mike & Tim headed out to pick up Tim’s car at NY 52 while I headed in the opposite direction to swing by my old stomping grounds along NJ Route 23. The ride home wasn’t bad and I pulled into the driveway at 19:10.
Mileage Summary – 5.1 AT miles on Thursday night, 18.8 AT miles on Friday, 9.3 AT miles on Saturday, and 10.2 AT miles on Sunday. Total AT miles: 43.3. Cumulative AT miles: 139.3.
Trail Summary – Who says that the nasty rocks end at the High Point State Park? There were some damn hateful sections full of pointed, ankle-twisting rocks. The leaves were compacted and much more tolerable than last November although still treacherous in spots.
Hiker Count – No one on Thursday, two day-hikers on Friday, 11 day-hikers on Saturday morning, another six in the evening, and five day-hikers on Sunday.
Wildlife Count – Seven deer on Thursday, four on Friday, and nothing but scat on Saturday & Sunday.
Blister Count – The infamous barbell blister on my right heel and a gouge in my left heel. Both made hiking on Sunday a painful ordeal. Time to get a new pair of boots.
Lessons learned – The 19 miles on Friday was a stretch but we knew that going in. Now we know that we can do it if need be given enough daylight. Following the big day with a short day was key. Bring more fuel – my small bottle is only enough for two full meals for four people in cooler temperatures. Finally, I need to examine every item in my pack and look for opportunities to save weight. A lighter pack would not have made the hike easy, but it would have made it easier. The items that I removed before the orphan hike could be considered to be non-essential for the next hike.