GRT 2012

May 19, 2012

Haystack from Marcy, the final summits on the Traverse

What in the world is that beeping?!  When I turned over I saw my alarm had been trying to rouse me for almost 30 minutes.  Time to get up - big day ahead.  I got up, dressed, ate some breakfast and hopped in my car, driving through the deserted streets of town, still not completely awake.  Why do I do this and where is everyone else?  From the far side of the lake I saw the sun come up behind Camel's Hump.  Glad I got up to see that.  Coffee is starting to work. 

I've hiked the Great Range Traverse a few times before and it has gotten to be somewhat of an annual tradition for me.  Over the years I have dialed-in my approach, although its still a work in progress and invariably each time I do it there's something I forget, something I learn, and another reminder of just how humbling this adventure can be.

This morning I start under clear skies and 43 F temps.  The ascent from Keene Valley is familiar, on a relatively well-beaten path that gives access to Roostercomb.  From this vantage, Mt. Marcy looks to be a long way down the valley.  Beyond Roostercomb the trail is rough and significantly less-traveled, making its way over an obscure 3000-foot peak before steadily climbing to the first 4000-foot peak of the day.

Many of the peaks along the Great Range have 'double-peaks' and it has been written that this makes the enterprise that much more tiresome due to the relentless up and down.  I remember when I first hiked this route and thought I had reached a certain peak, only to realize that I still had to descend another sag or some ledges only to climb some more to reach the actual high point.  Now that I've been up here, my expectations help to guide me through the day.  Now I notice other things:  I puzzle on the condition of erosion - whether it's gotten worse in different spots.  I consider the rock conditions - will they be wet - can I descend on shoes or do I need to sit down and soil my shorts with mud?

Welcome to the Great Range

From Lower Wolf Jaws I can see the scars that Tropical Storm Irene left in its wake.  A number of new slide paths were cut down the faces of these steep-sided peaks, carving swaths down to the bedrock and leaving piles of debris, including trees like matchsticks, at the base of these slides.  Vegetation clings to the margins of these paths, locked in a fragile, unstable soil.

I pass a trio of hikers from Ontario attempting the traverse on the wet descent from Lower Wolf Jaws.  On the ascent of Upper Wolf Jaw it is clear that a number of trees have been toppled or washed off the ledges from the storm.  The trail is in tough shape.  I wonder how many years it might be before the mountainside is completely denuded of its vegetation.

A ladder aids the ascent of Armstrong

In my mind I divide the traverse into roughly five parts, the first being the warmup to Lower Wolf Jaws, the second being characterized by rough, rocky, rooty, muddy trail to Gothics, the third being chock full of steep rock and ledges to the south side of Basin, the fourth being the steady climbs to Haystack and Marcy, and the fifth being the descent.

I stop again for a bite to eat on Gothics and I'm pleased to see that the cable route is dry today.  I'm able to walk down the slabs relying on sole friction.  Saddleback's route also seems easier to negotiate today and I find myself atop Basin for a lunch stop.  Only, I haven't brought anything other than Clif Bars, PB crackers, and Gu, and I'm craving some real food.  It's a warm day and I've made snowballs from the remnants of snow I find which I use to cool my arms and neck.  I've started rationing water because it's clear to me I will drain the 100 oz. before I make it to the resupply at mile 22.

Looking back at Saddleback's ledges

On the descent of Basin I catch up to a hiker who seems to be flying downhill.  I use poles to protect my knees on these steep ledgy descents, and I note that he is simply jumping from rock to rock with a graceful style.  Must be young knees.  As the trail starts to climb we begin to chat and it turns out he is mountaineer having climbed around the world, including in the Himalaya on multiple occasions.  A little further on I say goodbye to Signh as he stops to filter water, and I press onward to Haystack.

On Haystack I'm definitely feeling dehydrated and my head doesn't feel like its screwed on quite right.  Also, I'm not too hungry.  I pop an S-Cap electrolyte tablet and start to descend.  If I were out running on a day like today I would be taking them every hour or so.

a break on Haystack

I'm still trying to fuse the skills and knowledge I've learned from running with those for hiking, but there can still be a mental block depending on whether I approach a mountain adventure as a run, a speed hike, a regular hike, or a backpack.  Each one of those designations triggers a different approach to clothing, gear, food, and drink.

As I begin to ascend Marcy, only about one mile away now, I see I beautiful little cascade of water off the side of the trail and I decide to treat some water.  I drink the balance of Gatorade mix in the Camelback and pop open the iodine tablets, which are oxidized - rust colored - from contact with water.  I'm not sure if they're still effective, but I assume they are.  I fill the bladder with the cold water and set off to the summit.  The summit steward confirms that the tablets should be okay as-is and my concern about giardia fades a little bit.

After a snack I begin the descent.  Compared to the sparse number of hikers earlier in the day, climbing Marcy, the New York highpoint, is a popular activity, and brings out a whole range of hikers and tourists.  Without exception, most people are triumphant upon reaching the peak and why shouldn't they be?  It's a beautiful day with a nice light wind and the surrounding peaks and lakes are a captivating backdrop.

I stop at John's Brook Lodge at mile 22 on the way down and replace my treated water with fresh water.  I'm feeling a lot better, but I take my time on the final portion of the trail.  It's a 2-mile slow run from The Garden back to my car through town.  I make it back to the car by about 5:45 PM.  Today the time of the traverse is 11:27, a new PR for me.  That may be deceiving though, because I didn't stop as much or for as long on some of the summits, nor did I take the same volume of photos.  I don't necessarily feel like I moved any faster over portions of the route than I did in the past.  In some ways, I feel like I've optimized my travel over many sections to where I know exactly how I will ascend and descend each obstacle on the route.

Today's traverse reinforced for me that while the temptation is always there to go faster and lighter, carrying enough gear for a speed hike is essential here:  I wouldn't have fared well if I left the iodine tablets at home.  I came out in one piece, the only casualty being a quicklace on a Salomon shoe that was ripped out from an eyelet.

I found myself wondering today how someone could complete this traverse in a scant 6:09 (not including the last 2-mile road section) as was done almost two years ago - absolutely astounding!  See link here.  It goes to show you that there is always someone who is pushing the limits of possibility, faster and harder.