To climb one of the Catskills’ highest peaks, barefoot, in 30 F weather, and at night – was this really a good idea?
I studied the map. Between commitments on Saturday and Sunday, there was a narrow window of opportunity. It would mean a lot of driving and little sleep, but with winter approaching, this might be one of the last chances this year to scratch another peak or two off the list.
And what could be more important than that? Over the years, I’d fallen in love with the Catskills’ rugged mountains and quiet forests. Barefoot hiking was a strategy to slow down, sharpen form, and improve balance and strength. To climb all 35 of the Catskills’ highest peaks barefoot – this had started as an idea, become a goal, and was now a priority.
During the long dark drive north, the moon lay low on the horizon, as if weighed down by the glowing crescent on its lower side. A small town, dark and derelict, passed by in the mirror, and then I was pulling over at the trailhead, the car’s clock reading 10:00 PM and the thermometer, 30 F. Behind me, the moon hovered atop a distant ridgeline, as if it had descended from space and come to rest.