Wednesday, July 15, 2020

Snacks in the Dacks


Autumn is a wonderful time to hike in the Adirondacks. Precipitation takes a break between monsoon rains and icy blizzards.  Cold nights send flying/biting insects into their less pesky embryonic crawling or squirming forms. And of course, trees and shrubs celebrate another season of survival with a festival of color.


On the way up to Whiteface Mountain

The onset of winter also prompts mammals to stock up food stores, either in their pantries at home, or as fat in their bodies.  How clever to protect yourself with insulation that doubles as a midnight snack!

In the early fall of 2016, I organized a hiking trip with Asa, Jeff & Bill.  Since they were all relatively new to trails in the Dacks, I did the planning. I zeroed in on an 18 mile loop to climb four High Peaks. Trip reports glowed with descriptions of fun challenges, beautiful surroundings, and stunning views.

At the same time that I was exercising my fingers searching for online trip reports and revving up my trip partners into an excited frenzy, (and unbeknownst to me), bears were spending their days relentlessly searching for calories.

As I delved deeper to find information about potential camp sites, I began to see an alarming number of trip reports describing bears stopping by the tents and camp fires of intruding humans.

Imagine you come home after a long day of foraging.  Your feet are sore, you broke a claw digging for grubs, and you got berry juice stains on your fur coat.  To top the day off, you find uninvited guests in the foyer : (    Hold on.  Maybe they're not so bad after all?   They brought snacks to share!

The bears seemed to be particularly active in the campsites on the way to Colvin, Blake, Dial, and Nippletop. Just where I was planning to go. After a conversation with DEC Ranger Jim Gilento, and then consulting with the group, we made the decision to change our objective.

And that's how I got to eat snacks in what turned out to be my favorite range in the DACKS!
SNACKS in the Dix of the Dacks
with my trusty red anorak
Trip Planning
Planning for a trip is both serious business, and a fun enterprise.  When circumstances don't allow you to go for an outdoor adventure (due to the Covid-19 Pandemic for example), planning and daydreaming about forest trails and cairns above tree line spark the imagination.  With enough mental creativity (or in that marginal state before falling asleep), even virtual experiences can be cathartic.

A successful outdoor trip concludes with everyone smiling and scheming for a next adventure, even as we drive home.  Such fun requires a combination of planning and good luck. And it turns out, you can influence your chances of having good luck by undertaking good planning ; )

When I plan anything more than a stroll around the streets in my neighborhood, especially if other people are involved, I ask myself: who, why, what, where, when and how?

For a major expedition, where and why (such as Mount Everest, because it is there) are set first, and the other questions of who (I wanna rope up with Ed Viesturs), when (window between jet stream gales and monsoon snows), and how, (siege expedition or alpine dash?) are calculated.

For modest adventures such as a summer foray into the Adirondacks, who and when are often decided first.  For example:
Asa, Jeff, Bill and I all have a weekend free in September, and we are able to leave work early on Friday.

Who: Unless I have already hiked or climbed with a partner, I ask about everyone's previous experience as it relates to our formative plans.  What are our technical skills and level of physical conditioning?  My scariest situation in the mountains was mainly the result of trip partners overstating or overestimating their experience.  I've never been so reliant on luck for everyone to return alive, or at least with all digits malleable.

Partners with compatible personalities, realistic expectations, and flexible responses to change go a long way to ensuring a fun adventure.

When: Deciding when to go requires consideration of seasonal weather and resulting ground conditions (softened snow to post hole through in March in the Dacks), and vagaries imposed by local weather patterns (summer afternoon lightning storms in the Rockies).

In our case, schedule is one of the constraints, so I need to pick a trail that's appropriate for expected conditions of snow, mud, and hazards associated with high water crossings.

Why and What:  Why does each of us want to go on this trip and what are our goals and objectives? If one of us is intent on tagging as many summits as possible during a 24 hour period, another of us is looking forward to setting up a tripod to photograph every mushroom we find, and another wants to spend hours meditating next to a stream, then the chance of everyone being happy are low.

In our case, we all want to have fun, challenge ourselves physically, immerse ourselves in summit views, cherish conversations, and...
savor some sweet & savory snacks.

Where: With goals and desires identified, we can look for a venue created by the right combination of geology, climate, and time.  Skin moisturizing immersion? - Pacific Northwest.  Desiccating, deep descent? -Grand Canyon.  Arctic alpine? -Adirondacks.

In our case, we've already selected the Adirondack High Peaks area, so I look for a trail that is within our abilities that will satisfy our aspirations.

How: Once the other questions have been answered, the resulting criteria let you make decisions about logistics, and gear.  Backpack or long day hike?  Loop or shuttle?  Footwear, sleep system, cook or no-cook, clothing systems.  Each of these choices provide hikers and climbers hours of entertaining debate.

In our case, we're going to backpack to a camp site at the start of a loop trail, and try to hike the loop in a day.  There are side trails that will provide options to "bail" in case we get tired, have an accident, or the weather turns dangerous.

Gear-wise: Jeff and Bill wear trail runners, Asa and I light boots.  Jeff and Bill don long pants, Asa goes for the classic shorts over long underwear ensemble, and I take my chances with shorts (with rain pants in my pack) and of course I have my trusty red anorak.  Bill opts for a tent, the rest of us go with hammocks and tarps.  I try a new dinner preparation method: freezer bag cooking!

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Our Trip
Jeff, Bill, Asa and I pile into Jeff's Pontiac Vibe, drive from Ithaca, and arrive at the trailhead after dark.  We attend to last minute adjustments of clothing and gear, sign the trail register and set off hiking by the light of our headlamps.



It's an unfortunate reality of hiking and climbing that we often spend hours sitting in a car and then instantly expect our bodies to carry a heavy pack up a steep trail.  The experienced climber starts off slowly.

I enjoy walking in the dark- when the trail is easy to follow, and if I'm not expecting bears.  If a trail is overgrown, or covered with leaves or snow, it changes the experience from a meditative sensory delight, to tentative steps, frequent stops, and backtracking.  Tonight the trail is welcoming and we arrive at the Lillian Brook camp site.  Hopefully any bears are over the hill in the Pinnacle Range.



We start preparing dinner and set up sleeping arrangements.  For this trip, I'm in charge of group dinners, and we're all responsible for our own breakfasts, lunches, and snacks.

I'm such a cheap skate*, I don't think I've ever eaten a freeze dried meal.  Over the years I have migrated from cooking provisions over camp fires, to cooking meals over liquid fuel stoves (nothing like turning off the jet turbine roar of a Svea 123 to make you appreciate quiet wilderness), to simmering soupy stewish concoctions over propane burners, to alcohol stoves.  I now also enjoy trips with no cooking chores by going stoveless.

On this trip, I try "freezer bag cooking" for the first time.  I mix rehydratable vittles and spices into zip lock plastic bags (PSA: there are health concerns with hot food and plastic) at home, add boiling water on the trail, and let the rehydration magic happen in an insulated sleeve (the FedEx bubble envelope in the picture above).  Combine with fixins, and voila. The first night we dine on Moroccan-inspired couscous with dried fruits and nuts, the second night we gorge ourselves with refried bean burritos and Mexican style rice.

                                                             

A success.

Bill prepared for the rest of his sustenance by buying burritos when we stopped at a gas station on the drive up.  No worries, between Asa and I we have enough snacks to feed a dozen Cornell Outdoor Education instructors.  And if you know COE instructors...
               
                                                                      

After a peaceful nights rest, Bill has his first burrito for breakfast, Jeff prefers a caffeinated liquid breakfast, and Asa and I opt for snacks as we walk.  We hit the trail carrying our day packs.

After a few steps, Asa and I dip into our bags of gorp and snack mixes.  And the zipper seals on the bags are rarely closed throughout the rest of the day.

Our route allows access to five High Peaks depending on time, our energy, weather, and mood.




After leaving the campsite, we start ascending along the north bank of Slide Brook.  The first steep climbing starts with the Macomb Slide.

                                                         
                                                                         
Unlike many other slides in the Adirondacks that are scraped down to exposed bedrock, the surface of the Macomb slide is a layer of soil and talus.  Climbing this is like working out on a stairmaster with random height steps that only occasionally drop or twist. And the angle is low enough that dislodged rocks don't go rolling and bouncing like overgrown pinballs randomly careening towards your partners.

Luckily, we arrive at the top of the slide just slightly tilted.



After a bit of scouting and navigating braided paths through thick brush, we arrive at the top of MaComb Mountain, our first summit of the day.

When it comes to the number of people you encounter on the top of a mountain, there is often an inverse relationship between size of crowd and weather conditions.  Today is gorgeous, and we find a large party.  Literally.  There's a group of revelers complete with table cloth, snacks, and Champaign on a serving table!  We offer our congratulations to whoever is celebrating their climb of the 46 High Peaks!



After our own modest and all too brief celebration, we move on.

When we hiked the Great Range Traverse in June of 2014, our group learned a valuable lesson that I apply to this trip.  Don't spend too much time summibrating on each peak.  If you spend 15 minutes on each summit of the Great Range Traverse, that adds up to two hours!  Two hours that you might rather have as you descend from the last mountain as darkness also descends on the trail.  Or two hours worth of distance toward the safety of tree line when a lightning storm approaches a Colorado 14er.

For the rest of the day, we generally follow ridge lines.  We drop down from McComb then climb up to South Dix.  After the major elevation gain up to McComb, the other peaks require much less climbing.  The views along the ridges and at the summits are outstanding.


We continue along: northeast on a spur trail to Grace (named East Dix until just two years before our hike), Hough, Beckhorn.  The weather remains cool and dry, the trails surprisingly mud free.  We revel in the movement, companionship, views, and constant snacks : )


At some point, we take a proper break to eat lunch and rest a bit.
                                                  

Eventually, we reach the top of Dix Mountain for which the Range is named.  Their namesake is John Adams Dix a secretary of state under Governor Marcy, of Mount Marcy fame.  All day we have been blessed with glorious weather, kind trail conditions, aerobic challenges, stunning views, entertaining companionship, and delectable snacks.  A perfect adventure and my new favorite range in the Dacks.



                                                              
Then we race the sunset back to camp.  The sun wins, but bequeaths just enough twilight to reach our tents and hammocks without using headlamps.  

I don't build camp fires when I hike myself, but another party sharing our site start a blaze that is indeed relaxing.  The warm hypnotizing flicker and woodsy fragrance provide just the venue for reclining with the evening news.



The next morning we pack up camp and return to the trailhead.  With more limited time before we need to drive home, and depleted glycogen reserves, we decide to hike Noonmark Mountain.  This is one of my favorite hikes in the Adirondacks, though it's not a High Peak.  With an out-and-back trip distance of five miles, and 2,175 feet of elevation gain, it requires a moderate expenditure of effort and time.  In exchange, it rewards with the full Adirondack experience: forest trails and streams, a bit of rocky scrambling, and a bare summit with excellent views.


It's enough to make us jump for joy : )


All too soon, we're back on the road for home.  On the way, we stop off in Saratoga Springs and meet up with my daughter Molly for dinner at Druthers Brewing Company.


Despite the non-stop trail snacking and prodigious trail dinners, we're all pretty excited when the meals arrive.  Quantity and quality!




A perfect ending to an adventure of snacks in the Dix in the Dacks.


*  Bonus History lesson: I always thought the term cheapskate referred to a poorly made roller or ice skate.  Turns out its origins might be from a term for a worn-out horse, or a contemptible person.



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