Winter Wonderland

Rule number one when planning a trip into the backcountry of the Adirondack High Peaks: Things will never go as planned. You can all save yourselves some time and just trust me on this one. You might say I have some experience in the matter, and this most recent excursion up north proved no differently.

As we do annually, my good friend Ross came to town for a trip up to the mountains for some solid hiking in the heart of the Adirondacks. Over the holidays we had sketched out a fantastic backcountry ski/snowshoe/hiking route along the western valley of the MacIntyre Range followed by a traverse up and over Alogonquin Pass and into the cold banks of Colden Lake to crash for the evening. In this plan, the following day we would hike out through Avalanche Pass and make our way back through Marcy Dam, out of the thick of it and ultimately to the car, just in time to drive ourselves to the Noonmark for blueberry pancakes and coffee. This was Plan A.

Fast forward to Thursday night where Plan A quickly fell by the wayside as temperatures all week have been in the 40s, and were predicted to reach the 50s on the days we'd be hiking. Trail reports indicated significant issues with flooding on account of which, and our Plan A route called for a total of 10, yes count'em, 10 stream crossings. Alright. Plan B: Assuming a completely different approach, we'd hike in through the Van Hoevenberg and make our way up to Lake Arnold, a high lake and perfect place to crash for the night, before summiting Mt. Colden - a High Peak yet to be claimed on either of our respective hit lists. Yes indeed, Plan B was a solid one, and we were going to saunter outta there with yet another successful climb in our bag. Ahem.

Friday morning, after stepping out of the Loj area and onto the trail, it was nothing but fast, bare-boot hiking all the way to Marcy Dam. Snowshoes and crampons were faithfully with us, but the conditions wouldn't require them for another couple thousand vertical feet. While deep in conversation, we both casually looked up at the Blue Blazes and concurred to press on and begin the climb before stopping to shed layers and having a bite to eat. At this point, let me tell you folks, we were hauling up this approach like never before (and there have been plenty "befores"). Sure, we'd have the occasional grunt to one another, but for the most part we both settled into our zones and continued upward; taking in the scenery, the scents, and the exquisite burn of climbing.

"Rossy - Lunch at the lean-to just beyond the bridge?" I asked, recalling the lean-to that sits right after the stream crossing on the way up to Lake Arnold.

"Sounds good" Ross responded easily as we continued to ascend.

But the bridge came and went, and it wasn't too much beyond this point that I first thought to myself: "Self: Do you remember climbing this much just beyond that bridge before reaching the lean-to?" Negatory. Could it be we were off-course? No way.

"Hey Ross, you remember climbing this much after the bridge?"

"Not really. But it always feels farther when you're climbing."

Good point.

45 minutes later: "Ross. We're off course. Pull out the map."

Yup, no question about it. We were at 4000 feet elevation on our way up to Mt. Marcy; a climb very familiar to both of us but which neither of us noticed as being the wrong climb for our intended approach. This, people, created a problem. Here we were approaching the treeline, with full packs and a desire to be approximately 2 trailess miles west from where were standing. The real pickle was the fact that there was hardly a salvageable option from that point. Sure, we could summit Marcy, but we would either have to turn around at the summit and back-track, or go over it and camp, putting us entirely on the wrong side of the range for our return trip.

"Ah-Hah!" I proclaimed, as I noticed a miniscule "connecter" trail jutting off our present course which, if we could find the damn thing, would put us back to where we needed to be with minimal problem. Hence, Plan C was officially hatched and in place.

Begin Innner Conversation: Now, is this connecter trail in front of us, or behind us? Hmmm... Perhaps I'll consult my trusty GPS... My GPS which I left in my house, under the stuff sacks and pile of gear deemed unnecessary for this trip. Argh! Strike 1. Okay, how about we guess based on our elevation... Yeah. Uh, behind us? Yes, it must be behind us, we must have passed it. Let's go back until we find it.

Okay, wrong decision. Strike 2 and 3. We back-tracked all the way to the lean-to at Marcy Dam where we sat, eating lunch and debating our next course of action. We'd just had a phenomenally good hike, but one without destination. We essentially just completed an exquisite day-hike, but with 50 lbs of completely unneccesary overnight gear strapped to our backs. Good off-season training, ceretainly, and there was still room to be bold: we could always "start over" and hike another 5 miles up to Lake Arnold from where we were. Or...

Plan D: Beers in Lake Placid?

Yes sir. Beers in Lake Placid was our final plan that we were able to execute flawlessly. Other than the treat of rolling into town on a flat tire after hiking out, things pretty much went like clockwork from that point of the trip onward. Laughing over our typical luck and reveling in another day in the mountains together, we took pride in putting in a solid 10 miles of backpacking; complete with some serious quad-busting climbing, and the finest eats in Lake Placid at the Pub. But perhaps best of all, we added yet another fine chapter in the long book of Joe & Ross hiking debacles. A book we reference often.

Good times? Yeah, you can go ahead and bet the farm on it. And while you're at it, check out more pictures from our day right here.

Keep it easy.