Last night, (Sunday Dec 19) I decided that I would like to hike a high peak or two today. I am leaving on Tuesday to go to Florida, so I thought it would be great to get out before heading south. I hadn’t been able to at all until now because soon after I got home on break I came down with a nasty head cold. Having mostly recovered, I decided that it was high time I got my feet under me. I was slightly worried, however, as I was still recovering from being sick as well as having spent several hours that day shoveling the snow off of our pond; not light work by any means. On top of all this, I had not had my most physically active semester so I knew I wasn’t in the best shape; although I wasn’t greatly out of shape. The mountains I quickly chose were Dial and Nippletop.  Nippletop is supposed to have the third best view in the ADKs, as rated by the Marshall Brothers (the first 46rs). The loop I plotted was a modest 11.5 miles and I thought that I could do that loop without too much trouble. I put together my winter hiking gear; stuck a tarp in the bottom of my pack, followed by my med kit. After that went my insulated snow pants, then water-bottles followed by my down jacket. I also strapped my snow shoes to the back of the pack and stuffed my micro-spikes into a side pocket. For personal wear, I had full-body, expedition weight long underwear (smart-wool), quick-dry nylon pants, my R1 fleece, a light soft-shell which was to be covered by my Mammut rain jacket if it was snowing. I was in bed by nine-thirty.

The next morning, that is, today, I got up at 4:05 after hitting snooze once. I ate breakfast, gathered my gear together, double checked to make sure I had everything and set off down the road; it was quarter to five. It was just beginning to lighten up when I passed through Saranac Lake an hour later; the sign in front of a bank said that it was one degree Fahrenheit; this was going to be cold. Since I had decided to take this hike only the night before, I did not have any trail food. I planned to stop at a grocery store on the way, but all the ones that I passed opened at seven and I hoped to be on the trail by then. Instead I stopped at a gas station in which I found a small can of peanuts, some M&Ms, and a bag of beef jerky. I mixed the M&Ms and peanuts together in a Ziplocs that I had brought for this purpose, wishing that I had been able to find raisins. I arrived at the trail head at five minutes to seven after a slight detour because I missed my turnoff. It was snowing lightly, the kind of snow that reminds one of Christmas, not the heavy downfall, but the light casual snow that one likes to play in.

I stepped out of my pick-up and knew that I would have to wear more than just my long underwear and nylon pants for my legs. I decided it would be best to add a shell for added warmth. I quickly geared up, lacing up my boots, strapping on my gaiters and adjusting my pack and poles to the proper fitting. I decided that since I would need them eventually, I might as well start with my micro-spikes on my feet. Having never been to this trailhead before, I didn’t know quite what to expect. The greater portion of the hike was to be on the Adirondack Mountain Reserve, an organization run by the elite Ausable club. The Ausable Clubhouse is a huge mansion, beautifully made and quite intimidating. Although the club allows members of the public access to the high peaks through its land, it does not allow off trail use, camping or rock climbing. On top of all that, they placed the public parking area half a mile from the trail entrance causing me to quickly regret starting out with the micro-spikes on. After ten feet of walking on the road, I stripped them off and stored them in my pack. It was lightly snowing, so lightly that I only noticed the flakes when they hit my face every couple minutes.

I soon made it to the head of the trail, that is, I made it to the dirt road from which the trail would eventually start. The Ausable club lets the public walk down the dirt road, but an austere sign warns that anyone caught camping, bicycling, building a fire, hunting, trapping, bushwhacking, rock climbing or wandering into restricted areas would be prosecuted. I was convinced; I was to obey or get out. But I didn’t mind, I wasn’t planning on doing any of those things anyways. After signing in as N. Josephs from Potsdam, climbing Dial and Nippletop, I set off down the dirt road. Dirt roads can be extremely boring, but this one was charming, with overhanging trees, frosted with snow. There was roughly an inch of accumulation on the ground so it was easy going. I made quick time, so quick and energetic that I had to stop and take off my light soft-shell jacket. I also opened all of the vents on my Mammut rain jacket. About two miles in, I saw my first human of the day. He had been camping about two feet off of the road. I should have let him know that I wasn’t going to report him, but I think he got that idea as I was walking in the wrong direction to report him. We exchanged good mornings and I continued tramping along. This was to be that last contact I would make with anyone until I exited the woods later that afternoon. It was lightly snowing; I don’t know how it was, because there were no clouds above my head.

Most people who climb Nippletop leave the dirt road that I was on at about two miles in. I, however, was interested in following it to the end in order to see Lower Ausable Lake. It was worth it. Rugged peaks slammed dramatically into the frozen expanse of Ausable Lake. I dropped my pack to take a couple pictures. I didn’t think that my break would be long enough to warrant putting my on down jacket. I stepped down the fifty yards to the dam that was built by; you guessed it, the Ausable Club. I took a couple quick shots and scurried back to my pack. The trail that I was going to hike upon leaving the dirt road happened to be completely untouched since the most recent snowfalls. Since this was the case, I decided that I would use my snowshoes; more for stability and traction from the spikes than for floatation; there was still only three or four inches even at the deepest spots. I strapped on my snowshoes and relieved myself and, noting how yellow it was, had a sip of water. I knew it would not be wise to let myself become dehydrated.  By the time all of the preparations were done I was feeling quite chilly and wished I had added another layer as soon as I had stopped. However, that was not to be helped and I set off quickly, happy to finally be leaving the road behind me. It was lightly snowing, still no clouds above me, and the flakes weren’t coming from the trees.

The trail I was to follow proceeds over Indian Head Mountain, to Fish Hawk Cliffs before joining Gill Brook trail. The hike up Indian Head was exciting as I was breaking trail, although I quickly found that the snowshoes were unnecessary. They did help stabilize, but I would have been fine if I had only put on the micro-spikes that were still in my pack. The ascent was quite steep, making me scramble in a few places. I made it to the top of Indian Head only to find a four way intersection. This confused me as I was only expecting a three way intersection. By this time breakfast was beginning to wear off, so I decided to take a break, study the map and take a bite from my makeshift trail food. The GOMP (Good Old M&Ms and Peanuts) was descent, but the jerky was frozen and I spent a full minute trying to chew a piece. After looking at the map and not being able to solve the conundrum, I decided I would follow the sign that pointed to Indian Head and see where it took me. Packing up, again regretting not having put on my down jacket, I set off in search of the solution to my problem. I found it 150 yards down the trail in the shape of an amazing outlook. This was simply Indian Head outlook; I had taken my snack at the true summit. From the lookout I was able to see all of Lower Ausable Lake in its terrible beauty as well as Upper Ausable in the distance. Looking down I also saw a depressing sight, that is, the dam that I had been at seemingly ages ago looking like I could reach out my hand a touch it. Anyways, after snapping a few pictures, I pressed on. It was snowing, but so lightly that I forgot about it.

I returned to the four corners and descended a short way to a saddle out of which I rose to find myself at Fish Hawk Cliffs. The cliffs offered another perspective of the Ausable gorge below. Without spending much time at the Cliffs, I soon came to Gill Brook trail. Here there were many footprints as this was the main trail to Nippletop, as well as Mt. Colvin and Blake Peak, two other high peaks. I took another rest in order to take off and stow the snowshoes. This time, learning from my past experiences, I immediately donned my down jacket, reveling in the warmth it offered. I pulled out my jerky that I had stuck in my R1 vest pocket, warmed by my body heat it was tender and succulent. I drank a bit more, re-strapped my snowshoes, took off my jacket, hove my pack onto my back and set off once more. The sign where I stopped read “Nippletop 2.4” meaning I was a two and a half miles until my first high peak of the day. Resolutely I set off. The snow quickly deepened to half a foot to almost a foot. However, with the heavy traffic over the weekend, the trail was sufficiently broken that my micro-spikes were enough; even bare booted I would have gotten through fine. I soon came to the fork where the Gill Brook trail continued to Colvin, while I went to Nippletop via Elk Pass. When I got to the top of the pass I was surprised to find two large ponds, one on my left and one on my right. These brought back memories of the day before; of an afternoon on skates spent clearing our pond at home. These ponds were slightly bigger than our one acre pond and offered an opportunity to see Colvin and what I thought was the top of Nippletop; it didn’t look so far now. It was snowing, I tried to take a picture of the flakes on my mitten, but so few were falling, I gave up.

I pressed on, but my resolve started to weaken. My legs were tired of pumping up the mountainside; it was so steep. I pushed on, thinking to myself, starting with, “Come on, you can do it” then, “You can do anything for five more minutes,” and finally, “Just one foot in front of the other.” I stopped. I needed to recuperate; these 2.4 miles sure were long. Threw on my jacket, pulled out and finished the last of the jerky and ate a couple handfuls of GOMP. I began so psych myself up for the summit push. If I turned around now I would be a quitter, I was almost there, not much further, I was rested and could push on for another couple miles, even if I turned around now it wouldn’t be that much shorter. I was ready; I was going to do it! I stashed the GOMP and jacket, shouldered the pack and started out. It was snowing, every now and then a flake would descend from heaven, as if it were a jewel, perfectly crafted and made to come to rest on a tree.

I stopped before I had gotten 50 more yards. I realized how tired I was. The rest should have given me enough to go at least another half mile before I was tired again. It was already 12:40, the first time I had looked at my watch since I started out. This was ridiculous; here I was, a little over half a mile from the top, unable to keep going. In my previous three high peak attempts I had turned back twice before making it; one time only one third of a mile from the top. I couldn’t keep going though, I was running out of daylight, and even though I had two headlamps, hiking at night by myself was not first priority. If I turned around now it would all be downhill, if I kept going; I would have to summit Nippletop, Dial, and a lower peak, Bear Den. I turned around. It was snowing, but so lightly that at the current rate we would have about three feet of accumulation by March.

Once the decision was made, my spirits lifted. My first steps downhill were so much easier than I had imagined. Hiking downhill in snow is as much easier than without snow as hiking uphill in snow is harder. Since there was a good foot of snow, the first really steep part I came to I sat down and slid on my butt. I laughed out loud at the ease with which I descended. This was fun! Gravity and I had a grand time descending back down to Elk Pass. After this, although the trail continued consistently downward, it was never steep enough to slide again; besides, the snow wasn’t as deep anymore. It was still snowing, but I was having too much fun to care.

Not long after re-passing the two surprising ponds, I began to notice something that was rather troubling. Yesterday, while shoveling the pond I had developed hot spots on the inside of both my big toes. Until now, although I could still tell that they were there, they weren’t bothering me. However, on the descent, I began to notice them much more. I didn’t want to deal with them though because to do so would mean taking the gaiters off, unlacing the boots, taking the socks off, applying moleskin and then reverse the process, then repeat with the other foot. So I curled my toes, wrinkled my nose and pressed on. It was snowing, this time there was a cloud over my head, but it was one of those light fluffy innocent looking ones.

Ten minutes later I opted for the operation, I didn’t want to risk full out blisters. It really was not as bad as it sounded. After putting my down jacket on, it took less than a minute for each toe, neither of which had developed a blister. I marched on, happily wiggling my big toes. By now I was back on the Gill Brook trail. This time it was as uneventful as it was exasperating. Around each corner I hoped I would see the dirt road. Over each hillock I would imagine that a white expanse was the smooth gravel. After what seemed an eternity I finally reached the dirt Road. With happy heart and tired feet I started to tramp out the final two and a half miles to the parking lot. I said earlier that I met only one person on the trail; however, one of the Ausable Club Members drove past me in his heated SUV, he deigned to wave at me as he cruised past. It was snowing, but my feet told me not to take notice, it wasn’t a big deal.

Before too long I made it out of the dirt road. I snapped a picture of the Adirondack Mountain Reserve fence that blocks the common people from driving down the road. I also took a picture of the club house in case I ever want something to help me drool. I took the micro-spikes off; they had remained on my boots ever since I removed my snowshoes, and walked the half mile to the parking spot. When I got there, I peeled off my out shell, got in my pickup and blasted the heat. Turning on the heat to such a level was merely instinctual, but entirely unneeded as I was plenty warm as I was. I put it into gear and drove off. It was 4:15 and snowing, but you already knew that.

The drive home took a little longer than usual as it was actually snowing hard on the roads. When I got home I hopped out of the truck and wished I hadn’t. I am quite sore and any rapid movements cause me pain, actually any movement did. Interestingly I wasn’t hungry and I thought I would write up what I did today. Although some would see it as a failure, today was a success. I had a wonderful time exploring the wilderness. I learned to put on my jacket whenever I rest and I got a couple more miles in. Turns out I almost went 14 miles which is nothing to sneeze at. I had miscalculated the distance the first time around.