As I drove through the predawn darkness to the start of Manitou’s Revenge, my thoughts drifted and I wondered, could I win this race?
The idea was patently absurd: when it comes to technical trail running, I’ve historically finished in the middle of the pack. But I’ve been getting faster in recent years, even finishing in 3rd place at a 100-mile race earlier this year. Further, Manitou’s Revenge is not a large event. There would be fewer than 100 starters, and for all I knew, the best trail runners might not show up, or they might trip and fall on the rocky paths and drop out. In which case, victory might go to the tortoise, not the hare.
I could hardly wait for the weekend, so excited was I to get back out to the Catskills to run, hike, and explore. When Friday evening finally rolled along, I set the alarm clock for 4:30 AM, determined to get an early start. And I was out the door and on the road in the predawn mist.
But when I finally arrived in the Catskills a few hours later, I was dragging. En route I had picked up a second cup of coffee, but even a double dose of caffeine hadn’t helped.
I dragged myself to the starting point of the day’s adventure, the trail to Giant’s Ledge, and looked up: the path was a tumble of rocks.
If you stray off the beaten path, you might encounter a wall of Hobble-bush (viburnum lantanoides). Where the branches touch the ground, they send down roots and grow new stems. Soon there is a thicket eager to hobble the unwary hiker — hence the plant’s popular name. Continue reading “Hobbling Through the Woods”→
I leaped out of bed before dawn and by first light was on the highway racing toward the Catskills. The goal was to summit seventeen peaks within 24 hours. This would be a test to determine whether I was ready to challenge an ultra-distance mountain-bagging record in this rugged region of the Hudson Valley. If things went well, I’d be back in a few weeks for a multi-day adventure, this time to officially break the record and set a new one.
What’s interesting about the Catskills is that many of the peaks have no trails. To reach a pathless summit, the runner “bushwhacks” through the woods. This entails following the lay of the land, staying oriented with map, compass, and GPS, and surmounting the obstacles tossed up by the constant flux of nature.
I was eager not only to challenge records, but also to experience the wilderness. I had been reading the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius, the well-regarded 2nd century Roman Emperor and Stoic philosopher. Live in harmony with universal nature, he had argued almost two thousand years ago, and you can achieve serenity and tranquility, no matter what obstacles you encounter. And what better strategy for achieving harmony with nature, than to run through mountains and plunge into trackless forest?
I woke up with a headache, coughed up some yellow phlegm, blew my nose, and went back to sleep. I had come down with a nasty head cold before the Boston Marathon and thought I had shaken it — and it here it was nine days and a half a bottle of cough syrup later.
But the sun was shining, and so I finally dragged myself out of bed a little after 10 AM. Odie hopped in the back of the car, and we headed off towards the Catskills. If I didn’t feel better, we could always turn around and come home.
The plan was to hike Kaaterskill High Peak, one of the Catskills’ taller mountains, and a spot I would return to later in the summer as a part of a special challenge. This morning must have been the first truly beautiful day of spring, because the parking lot in Platte Clove was full. We parked on the shoulder of the road.
And off we went, up a steep old logging road and after a bit took a shortcut through the woods and linked up with a snowmobile trail that circles the summit.
And then we discovered this wreckage. It looks like it was once an airplane.
Plane wreckage on the shoulder of Kaaterskill High Peak
The day was sunny and warm, but a cold wind blew from the north, chilling me. I shivered, coughed, and blew my nose. Odie trotted along happily.
We were looking for a turn-off where a trail was supposed to take us to the summit. Suddenly we came across a large cairn; someone had considerately placed a figurine amongst the rocks facing toward the summit. What makes the Catskills interesting, is you never know what you might see.
Cairn and figurine pointing to the summit of Kaaterskill High Peak
The footpath headed steeply uphill. There were occasional blazes on trees, but they were faint, and Odie and I had to guess our way among the rocks. I huffed and puffed.
The path became quite steep and scrambled up a series of cliff faces. I put Odie on his leash and hauled him up and over several ledges which were too tall for him to jump.
And then we got to the top of the ledge and discovered beautiful views across the Hudson Valley and Platte Clove. We could see the mountain wall across which the Devil’s Path traverses (Overlook, Indian Head, Twin Mountain, and Sugar Loaf). The Hudson River shimmered in the distance.. According to the map, this was called Hurricane Ledge. A couple was sitting on the ledge, enjoying the sunshine, shoes off, a picnic spread before them. Odie sniffed discretely at their food and scurried off as I clucked in disapproval.
View of Overlook Mountain and the Hudson Valley from Hurricane Ledge on the southern slope of Kaaterskill High Peak
Then he discovered a muddy puddle which seemed just the right size to sit in.
A mud puddle on Hurricane Ledge
After a short hike, we reached the summit, a small clearing surrounded by a thicket of spruce and fir. There was another cairn and another piece of the plane wreckage. The trail was covered in snow, which Odie took advantage of to scratch his nose
Cairn at the summit of Kaaterskill High PeakOdie scratching his nose on summit of Kaaterskill High Peak
We headed north down the backside of the summit, aiming to complete a circuit of the snowmobile trail and then return on the logging road to the car. As we descended, the snow and ice got thicker and more treacherous, and in some places the slope was quite abrupt. At one dicey spot, my feet slipped out from underneath me, and I slid out of control for about three feet, becoming quite angry. It seemed inconsiderate to leave so much snow out on a beautiful spring day, and how was I supposed to have known to bring micro-spikes. I glared at the mountain, blamed the couple on Hurricane Ledge for not advising us of this hazard, and blew my nose.
We survived the descent and found the snowmobile trail It was helpfully marked with a wooden plank.
Snowmobile trail on northern flank of Katterskill High Peak
The snowmobile trail was covered in puddles, and we slogged through mud and water — but we’re used to that.
On the way down the logging trail, we started to run. Odie was pleased to have gotten in an 8-mile hike, and an added positive: he had covered himself in mud, which seems to be a favorite practice. The afternoon sun was still warm, the sky was clear, the wind was calm, and as we trotted down the last few hundred yards, I noticed my cough was gone.
The Long Brown Path 