I saw it was going to be windy and cloudy with a chance of snow, so i decided on a "gimme." Two peaks, 9.5 miles round trip out of the Loj. Nye and Street had been high on the hit-list ever since Fin and i attempted them our third day out in the beginning of January. It was the day after a thaw. Needless to say, we didn't make it past Indian Pass Brook. In 55 attempts to summit mountains, it was the first time we'd ever been turned back. Our first defeat ever. Lifetime record: 54 - 1. It was killing me. So i strapped on the snowshoes and headed down there to take it back.
There's a cedar grove just before the brook crossing that rivals any grove of any trees i've seen this coast. They're tall, if not old-growth (to the letter of the definition) then at least they've been growing a helluva long time. Long enough that if they were logged, that area must've been one of the first to go, because some of those trees are 150 if they're a day. Their distinctive reddish bark twists around the tree as it ascends. They remind me of the pines in Sedona that twist by vortex energy, so it's claimed. But the straightness of both trunk and branch reminds me more of the Great Redwoods of California. No wonder, they're in the same family. If it weren't for them being softwoods, those branches would make ideal walking sticks. (As if anyone uses sticks anymore in a time of collapsible titanium poles). Regardless, it's an impressive grove down there alongside the brook, far worthier of the effort than are the peaks of these two mountains.
i was pleased to see Indian Pass Brook frozen over. Note the many footprints to the left. Solid. Easy passing.
i was across it in three seconds. Nothing could stop me.
Except myself. Fool! I should've seen it coming. Believe what you will, i believe everything is in balance. No sunshine without rain; no darkness without light, etc. The yin and yang thing. To wit: the fact that i had gone 15 miles the previous day and felt like i could easily have gone 10 more virtually dictated, before i'd even begun, that this day i would drag my ass up and down the mountain. Not due to fatigue, mind you, but the law of universal balance. Mind games don't help. Knowing this hike was less than ten miles i underestimated it, so when the going got a little rough i let it get on top of me. My mind stretched the four miles to the top into 14. A big psyche-out. i know it. i knew it then. But mind over matter when the burn is already present is more difficult than solid mental preparation beforehand.
That the summits were both unremarkable didn't help either. However they were both outfitted with new wooden signs marking the summit. It's a little thing, to be sure, but let me assure you, it's a real difference maker. In the sport of peak-bagging, where many of the summits you visit are tree-covered, viewless, unsatisfying climaxes to what can often be long, sloggish days in mixed or even very challenging weather, seeing just a 5"x12" wooden sign with a name on it can change your whole attitude about the day. It may seem irrelevant. It's not. It's a morale boost. It says: "Congratulations! You made it! You earned this," in a way that a small pile of rocks just can't. (If there's even a small pile of rocks).
So i bagged them both. They were tag-and-bag, it was an ugly win, but a win nonetheless. To cap the day, i ran into a fella on my way down who was bushwhacking to find a slide to back-country ski it. (It is INSANE the variety of winter activities the people of this area have come up with. From toboggan to snowmobiles to ice climbing to curling - if it's an icy or snowy surface the people of the North Country have figured out how to have fun on it!) He said he'd run out of time for the day and needed to pick up his three kids from school.
"No big," he said. "Any day in the woods is a good day ."
You said it, brother. Amen to that.
There's a cedar grove just before the brook crossing that rivals any grove of any trees i've seen this coast. They're tall, if not old-growth (to the letter of the definition) then at least they've been growing a helluva long time. Long enough that if they were logged, that area must've been one of the first to go, because some of those trees are 150 if they're a day. Their distinctive reddish bark twists around the tree as it ascends. They remind me of the pines in Sedona that twist by vortex energy, so it's claimed. But the straightness of both trunk and branch reminds me more of the Great Redwoods of California. No wonder, they're in the same family. If it weren't for them being softwoods, those branches would make ideal walking sticks. (As if anyone uses sticks anymore in a time of collapsible titanium poles). Regardless, it's an impressive grove down there alongside the brook, far worthier of the effort than are the peaks of these two mountains.
i was pleased to see Indian Pass Brook frozen over. Note the many footprints to the left. Solid. Easy passing.
Which was in stark contrast to the last time we'd seen it. Note the lack of footprints or solid ice. Much less passable.
Except myself. Fool! I should've seen it coming. Believe what you will, i believe everything is in balance. No sunshine without rain; no darkness without light, etc. The yin and yang thing. To wit: the fact that i had gone 15 miles the previous day and felt like i could easily have gone 10 more virtually dictated, before i'd even begun, that this day i would drag my ass up and down the mountain. Not due to fatigue, mind you, but the law of universal balance. Mind games don't help. Knowing this hike was less than ten miles i underestimated it, so when the going got a little rough i let it get on top of me. My mind stretched the four miles to the top into 14. A big psyche-out. i know it. i knew it then. But mind over matter when the burn is already present is more difficult than solid mental preparation beforehand.
That the summits were both unremarkable didn't help either. However they were both outfitted with new wooden signs marking the summit. It's a little thing, to be sure, but let me assure you, it's a real difference maker. In the sport of peak-bagging, where many of the summits you visit are tree-covered, viewless, unsatisfying climaxes to what can often be long, sloggish days in mixed or even very challenging weather, seeing just a 5"x12" wooden sign with a name on it can change your whole attitude about the day. It may seem irrelevant. It's not. It's a morale boost. It says: "Congratulations! You made it! You earned this," in a way that a small pile of rocks just can't. (If there's even a small pile of rocks).
So i bagged them both. They were tag-and-bag, it was an ugly win, but a win nonetheless. To cap the day, i ran into a fella on my way down who was bushwhacking to find a slide to back-country ski it. (It is INSANE the variety of winter activities the people of this area have come up with. From toboggan to snowmobiles to ice climbing to curling - if it's an icy or snowy surface the people of the North Country have figured out how to have fun on it!) He said he'd run out of time for the day and needed to pick up his three kids from school.
"No big," he said. "Any day in the woods is a good day ."
You said it, brother. Amen to that.
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