October 16, 2009

• Getting Away

  Drew finally lived an old dream of his, and took some great pictures of his journey. Take a look at his post, and go say hi

  Since all the stuff with Bryne started going down, I’ve finally been taking some deliberate space for myself. And that culminated in my trip to the Adirondack high peaks. Just me, and everything I could fit in my pack, walking into the wilderness. A resurrected idea from long college drives, NYC to Potsdam and back – I always swore to myself that I’d just park the car one day, and go. So I did.

  

  

  Tahawus is a place the road ends. So that’s where I started from. And hiked in to Lake Colden, where I would pitch a tent and take day trips from. That was the original plan anyway.

  

  

  I made the 5.7 mile hike, set up camp and listened – to the wind in the trees, to the loons on the lake. There were maybe 10 people in the whole area. I fell asleep with that wind, but woke up to rain, so the morning journey was put off for a while to dry everything out. But then it cleared a bit, though still cloudy, so I set off.

  It was STUNNINGLY beautiful.

  

  

  The hike got continually steeper, on more rugged trails.

  

  

  

  And then it started to rain. The rest of the day would be somewhere between a heavy drizzle and a drenching downpour. That’s where the pictures mostly leave off, since I was fearing for the camera.

  I hit a confusing junction, a couple trails crossing and side trails to campsites, plus water running everywhere thanks to the rain. After getting pretty turned around, taking a compass bearing, and checking the trail map, I started up a trail. Or, something like a trail – I was actually on an unmarked trail, up a mountain, that ran parallel to the one I was looking for. But, I was following water that was flowing from uphill so I kept going.

  It turned into more rock climb than hike. And the rain poured on. By this point water was literally running down my body. I finally made the top, soaked, cold, and pretty tired out.

  

  That was without a doubt the wildest place I’ve ever been.

  

  

  The wind blew the rain sideways into my face, so strong I thought it would take me right off the mountain top. My first thought was that I was there in defiance, shaking a fist in the face of Mother Nature.

  My second thought followed the first closely. Mother Nature didn’t give two shits that I was even there at all. Standing on the top of the mountain, or lying in a shattered heap at the bottom – She still wouldn’t notice me regardless. The only significance to my being there was that I had brought myself there.

  It was about that time it occurred to me that climbing an unmarked mountain trail in the pouring rain might not be the hottest idea I’ve ever had. I started down.

  There was one moment on the descent where both my feet went out from under me descending a rock face and, in mid air, I thought, “You know, people die doing this.” Then, contact with both shins – which felt bone crunching, but fortunately wasn’t – and I caught myself and continued down.

  The rest was a miserable slog all the way back the way I had come. Every trail was now a stream of water running over and through mud. I finally hit my campsite filthy, exhausted, drenched, and found that once again almost all my gear was soaked. I stripped down, dried off as best I could, got into my sleeping bag atop the dry island that was my foam ground pad, and went to sleep for a couple hours.

  When I woke up the rain had finally stopped. I went to refill my water bottle at the lake and found the entire area was deserted – the rain had scared everyone else off, and I was entirely alone. I moved everything into a lean to, hung things to dry, and considered.

  

  I gave up the second mountain I had planned on. My only plans now were eating, resting, and letting everything dry out.

  I took a Sabbath.

  The sun was in and out of the clouds, with a steady breeze all day. I stayed in the lean to, leaning on the wall. I watched the shadows of clouds moving up Mount Colden.

  For hours.

  

  As I stared at the mountain across the lake, I felt like raveled knots were being pulled loose and made straight. It was just happening, and I was just watching it happen. I couldn’t affect it if I wanted to, and I didn’t want to. And I cried – for pain, for loss, but mostly because it was just so beautiful.

  And finally I felt – it’s okay.

  All the fighting, raging against things I couldn’t change, just dropped away. And at long last, I found some peace. I went for conquest, but at the last I came back with peace.

  And the next day I hiked back out.

  

  • 10:55 am
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