Lake Placid 2012 Vacation Day Seven -- Part I - In How We Make A Mistake in the Mountains
NOTE: If you haven't read the prologue to this post, I highly recommend reading that first by clicking here.
We spend Day Six of our 2012 Lake Placid, New York vacation mostly resting up and trying to decide what our final hike will be on Day Seven. I had planned on the traditional hike into Marcy Dam, since a walk through the woods to eat lunch at Marcy Lake is a pleasant way to end a week of nearly daily physical exertion. And I had not counted on being able to hike a high peak this trip due to my knees and lack of training. But Mt. Jo had been such an easy walk, I'd decided that Cascade, the easiest of the high peaks just might be within my abilities. A stretch, maybe, and I could be very well biting off more than my knees could chew, but I feel mostly confident.
My biggest worry is knowing that the last time I'd hiked up Cascade it was a cloudy day and the fear of heights that kicks in on large, open ascents was kept at bay by not being able to see or sense the openness around me. And in the ensuing 10 years, my fear of heights has only increased. But with a little help from my friend, valium, I feel like we could do it and get T, Bearie, and Hubs all up their first high peak. Decision made.
Then early in the evening, I hear Bearie coming down the stairs saying "Oof, oof, oof," with each step. "My legs hurt," she says with a sheepish grin. Yep, there's nothing like hiking down a mountain to take out one's quads, especially when one jumps and runs down the mountains. Ah, youth. But isn't youth supposed to not feel pain?
I give her some ibuprofen, but it doesn't help. The problem with Cascade is that you can't decide at 8 a.m. on a Saturday in the summer that you are going to hike it. The parking lot is tiny. Our goal arrival time was 7 a.m. We decide to see how she feels in the morning, but not push it. Marcy Dam is a fine Plan B, although after thinking I was indeed once again going to hike a high peak, something I thought I would never again do in my life, I'm disappointed. "There's always next year" doesn't hold true so much as you age. It's more like "There's always another injury waiting to spring on you."
We wake up early on Saturday, not early enough to hit the trailhead at 7 a.m., but early enough to leave by then. "How are your legs this morning?" I ask Bearie.
"Well, a little better," she says. Ugh. Hardly a ringing endorsement for a five-hour round trip hike ascending -- and then stressing out the quads even more -- descending almost 2,000 feet.
We decide we are going with Plan B. I resolve that we will be back in the fall to do Cascade. I WILL hike a high peak -- I'm ready to do it and life and knees, legs, hips, and feet are just too uncertain to wait another year.
We pack up a few snacks and fill up our water containers. My camelbak holds 2 liters of water, but I don't fill it to the brim. The Marcy Dam hike is 4.2 miles round trip with minimal altitude gain. It's very much a walk in the woods. Marcy Dam is the jumping off point for a lot of the high peaks, but just walking into the dam is more than worth it for the views of the mountains that surround you there.
"Is Marcy Dam a high peak?" Bearie and T take turns asking and re-asking. "No, it's not a mountain at all. But it's a beautiful place and it's a nice walk," we explain again and again. "Aw," is the standard reply, followed by the next child asking again. Perhaps if they ask enough, the answer will change.
We dress for an 88 degree day - extraordinarily hot for this location. We bring only one backpack, which T will carry. It contains our depleted bag of snacks. If we were hiking Cascade, I would have added more, but how much do you need to refuel on a level walk in the woods? It also has my knee braces, and Tiggy, our summit mascot. Hubs has his waist pack with the map and compass. Not that you can get lost walking in to Marcy Dam on a Saturday in the summer. It is a footpath highway. But just in case...
What we don't have is extra food, extra water, or gear for a chilly mountaintop -- or for an unexpected night in the woods. We're going casual on this trip.
We arrive by 8:00 at the High Peaks Information Center (HPIC) and get a spot in the quickly-filling-up last lot. We retie boots and brace up the worst of my two knees. It doesn't particularly hurt, but I want to play it safe. I came out of the Marcy Dam hike three years before with sore plantar fasciia in both feet, so better safe than sorry. The kids are still asking about which high peak Marcy is. I ignore them and we walk over to the trail register, the same one Mountain Goat and I started at in our fateful hike 13 years prior. I sign in our party and list our destination as Marcy Dam. I'm astounded at how many people have already signed in ahead of us this day -- there are pages and pages of people registered for peaks such as Phelps, Tabletop, Colden, Algonquin, and of course, Marcy.
We start down the trail. "Are we going to hike a high peak today?" one of the kids asks. "No," I repeat. "We are hiking into Marcy Dam. We'll be able to see the high peaks, but we won't be on top of one of them."
"AWWW" is the joint reply. On the spot, I do something that is on the "never do" list. I change our plans. I hoof back to the trail register, cross out Marcy Dam and write in "Wright Peak." Wright Peak is not the highest or most difficult of peaks, but Cascade would have been way easier. So I err in judgment by changing plans, but at least I have the smarts to note the change in the trail register. I consider how much food and water we have and think that we probably have just enough, but that we are just squeaking by and don't feel totally comfortable with that. In hindsight, the smart thing to do would have been to walk the hundred yards over to the HPIC store to buy a couple of bottles of gatorade and a few granola bars.
"What did you just do?" asks Hubs when I get back from the trail register. "We're going up Wright," I answer.
"Is that a high peak?" the young ones ask in unison.
"Yes," I reply.
"Yay!!!!"
So now instead of doing 1,940 feet in 4.8 miles round-trip, which was the Cascade high peak plan, or 4.2 level round-trip miles with nearly no elevation gain or loss -- which was the Marcy Dam plan, we are going to do 2,400 feet of up and down in 7.6 miles, although the first and last of those miles are virtually level -- so the elevation gain and loss takes place primarily in the middle five miles. And it's on a notoriously difficult, boulder-strewn trail.
They're thrilled. I'm worried, but we head out.
We will be taking the same trail Mountain Goat and I hiked up 13 years ago. There's something about this trail and not making the smartest of decisions.
To be continued.....
We spend Day Six of our 2012 Lake Placid, New York vacation mostly resting up and trying to decide what our final hike will be on Day Seven. I had planned on the traditional hike into Marcy Dam, since a walk through the woods to eat lunch at Marcy Lake is a pleasant way to end a week of nearly daily physical exertion. And I had not counted on being able to hike a high peak this trip due to my knees and lack of training. But Mt. Jo had been such an easy walk, I'd decided that Cascade, the easiest of the high peaks just might be within my abilities. A stretch, maybe, and I could be very well biting off more than my knees could chew, but I feel mostly confident.
My biggest worry is knowing that the last time I'd hiked up Cascade it was a cloudy day and the fear of heights that kicks in on large, open ascents was kept at bay by not being able to see or sense the openness around me. And in the ensuing 10 years, my fear of heights has only increased. But with a little help from my friend, valium, I feel like we could do it and get T, Bearie, and Hubs all up their first high peak. Decision made.
Then early in the evening, I hear Bearie coming down the stairs saying "Oof, oof, oof," with each step. "My legs hurt," she says with a sheepish grin. Yep, there's nothing like hiking down a mountain to take out one's quads, especially when one jumps and runs down the mountains. Ah, youth. But isn't youth supposed to not feel pain?
I give her some ibuprofen, but it doesn't help. The problem with Cascade is that you can't decide at 8 a.m. on a Saturday in the summer that you are going to hike it. The parking lot is tiny. Our goal arrival time was 7 a.m. We decide to see how she feels in the morning, but not push it. Marcy Dam is a fine Plan B, although after thinking I was indeed once again going to hike a high peak, something I thought I would never again do in my life, I'm disappointed. "There's always next year" doesn't hold true so much as you age. It's more like "There's always another injury waiting to spring on you."
We wake up early on Saturday, not early enough to hit the trailhead at 7 a.m., but early enough to leave by then. "How are your legs this morning?" I ask Bearie.
"Well, a little better," she says. Ugh. Hardly a ringing endorsement for a five-hour round trip hike ascending -- and then stressing out the quads even more -- descending almost 2,000 feet.
We decide we are going with Plan B. I resolve that we will be back in the fall to do Cascade. I WILL hike a high peak -- I'm ready to do it and life and knees, legs, hips, and feet are just too uncertain to wait another year.
We pack up a few snacks and fill up our water containers. My camelbak holds 2 liters of water, but I don't fill it to the brim. The Marcy Dam hike is 4.2 miles round trip with minimal altitude gain. It's very much a walk in the woods. Marcy Dam is the jumping off point for a lot of the high peaks, but just walking into the dam is more than worth it for the views of the mountains that surround you there.
"Is Marcy Dam a high peak?" Bearie and T take turns asking and re-asking. "No, it's not a mountain at all. But it's a beautiful place and it's a nice walk," we explain again and again. "Aw," is the standard reply, followed by the next child asking again. Perhaps if they ask enough, the answer will change.
We dress for an 88 degree day - extraordinarily hot for this location. We bring only one backpack, which T will carry. It contains our depleted bag of snacks. If we were hiking Cascade, I would have added more, but how much do you need to refuel on a level walk in the woods? It also has my knee braces, and Tiggy, our summit mascot. Hubs has his waist pack with the map and compass. Not that you can get lost walking in to Marcy Dam on a Saturday in the summer. It is a footpath highway. But just in case...
What we don't have is extra food, extra water, or gear for a chilly mountaintop -- or for an unexpected night in the woods. We're going casual on this trip.
We arrive by 8:00 at the High Peaks Information Center (HPIC) and get a spot in the quickly-filling-up last lot. We retie boots and brace up the worst of my two knees. It doesn't particularly hurt, but I want to play it safe. I came out of the Marcy Dam hike three years before with sore plantar fasciia in both feet, so better safe than sorry. The kids are still asking about which high peak Marcy is. I ignore them and we walk over to the trail register, the same one Mountain Goat and I started at in our fateful hike 13 years prior. I sign in our party and list our destination as Marcy Dam. I'm astounded at how many people have already signed in ahead of us this day -- there are pages and pages of people registered for peaks such as Phelps, Tabletop, Colden, Algonquin, and of course, Marcy.
We start down the trail. "Are we going to hike a high peak today?" one of the kids asks. "No," I repeat. "We are hiking into Marcy Dam. We'll be able to see the high peaks, but we won't be on top of one of them."
"AWWW" is the joint reply. On the spot, I do something that is on the "never do" list. I change our plans. I hoof back to the trail register, cross out Marcy Dam and write in "Wright Peak." Wright Peak is not the highest or most difficult of peaks, but Cascade would have been way easier. So I err in judgment by changing plans, but at least I have the smarts to note the change in the trail register. I consider how much food and water we have and think that we probably have just enough, but that we are just squeaking by and don't feel totally comfortable with that. In hindsight, the smart thing to do would have been to walk the hundred yards over to the HPIC store to buy a couple of bottles of gatorade and a few granola bars.
"What did you just do?" asks Hubs when I get back from the trail register. "We're going up Wright," I answer.
"Is that a high peak?" the young ones ask in unison.
"Yes," I reply.
"Yay!!!!"
So now instead of doing 1,940 feet in 4.8 miles round-trip, which was the Cascade high peak plan, or 4.2 level round-trip miles with nearly no elevation gain or loss -- which was the Marcy Dam plan, we are going to do 2,400 feet of up and down in 7.6 miles, although the first and last of those miles are virtually level -- so the elevation gain and loss takes place primarily in the middle five miles. And it's on a notoriously difficult, boulder-strewn trail.
They're thrilled. I'm worried, but we head out.
We will be taking the same trail Mountain Goat and I hiked up 13 years ago. There's something about this trail and not making the smartest of decisions.
To be continued.....
Wright Peak's bald knob visible to the left of mighty Algonquin, just right of center.
It rises 4,580 feet above sea level, and ranks as New York's 16th highest mountain.
A breath-taking sight, but the mountains, while beautiful, can be unforgiving.
A breath-taking sight, but the mountains, while beautiful, can be unforgiving.
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