So Tyler was kind of wiped after carrying his 50lb boat a 1.1 miles.

Tubing the Sacandaga River

Tubing the Sacandaga River in Hadley is a quick and easy thrill. It provides a little bit of everything that you look for in a summer day. With a quick drive through town it is very well known that the rafting industry heavily exists here. The trick isn't knowing what company has the best deals, its knowing how to tube the Sacandaga on your own. You could ask the townies and I'm sure for a Mountain brew or two they may trade you some rafting information, but reading this post will be safer and more reliable.

First things first, find Hadley, NY. As small of a town this truly is, it has some great outdoor things to do, and tubing the Sacandaga is high on that list. When you get into town find Main Street, you'll have a choice of about two roads so choose wisely. Off of Main Street you will find Bridge Street, be sure to turn down this road. You'll cross over a bridge that the Hudson River flows under, off to the right will be Rockwell Falls, and directly underneath you will be the narrowest part of the entire Hudson River. If you look to the distant left, you will see the Sacandaga River flowing into the Hudson.

Stay on Bridge Street for a 1/2 mile and you will take a left onto Old Corinth Road. On this road you will cross a one lane bridge that the Sacandaga River flows under. Right after getting off the bridge on the left hand side you will see a dirt pull off spot. This will be where you will leave one of your vehicles so you won't be stranded after the river ride.

With the tubes in the other vehicle, you'll drive to the top of the river. Pull out of the parking lot heading back toward the bridge, and just before bare a left on the dirt road (Dean Mountain Road). Follow this to the end and bare right onto Antone Mt Road. About 3/4 mile down the road you'll bare right onto County Route 7. On this road, you'll drive over the dam that seperates the Great Sacandaga Lake (on the left) and the Sacandaga River (on the right). Continuing on this road shortly after you pass the river, you will see a sign on the right hand side and a small pull off. This pull off is strictly for dropping off tubes and people. The parking lot where you can leave your vehicle is just up the road on the right hand side.

Park the car, attach your keys to something secure, and grab the tubes. Its a short hike down to the river (on a very well marked and maintained trail). The start of the river has a nice set of rapids, the 2nd biggest set of the trip. Try your best to get out to the middle of the river, and let the current take you from there. Be careful if you get turned around, for the flat rocks like to flip you off your tube. Shortly after the nice set of rapids, the river chills out and becomes lazy. Its a good time to swim or just relax and kick back.

The lazy river will turn into rolling rapids shortly down river. This will add a little excitement to your trip and setting you up for the grand finale. The end set of rapids get as large as class III, providing the most excitement of the ride. You'll go under the bridge you previously drove over, and you will see a take out to the left (don't take that one, stay to the right). You will make your way into the Hudson River, staying close to the right hand side of the shore. After going around the bend of the river, you will see a beach on the right. This is the take out for the people that don't pay, also known as the smart ones.

After a short hike out on the dirt trail, you will see you car sitting nicely on the road. By the end, you'll most likely have spent a little over an hour on the water.

Tips for the Trip~

If I were you, I would wear a life-vest. The Sacandaga is a controlled river and every night between 4:30 and 6:00 they shut the water off, turning the river into a dry creek bed- be sure to plan ahead for this. Always go with two cars and watch the weather. There is nothing like being stuck on a riverbank as lightning strikes. Be smart and paddle on.

Sunrise on Mt. Marcy

For every great idea, there is a way to make that idea better, stronger, more creative. It has to be discussed and cultivated to the point of near disgust, then added to and altered one thousand times. Such was the case in the days leading to September 17, 2011.

As a born Adirondack local, I’ve known of Mt. Marcy in the High Peaks Region for many years, but have largely avoided it in my quest for 46r status. The largest and most compelling personal reason for this avoidance is my intense dislike for sharing summits with masses of people. As Marcy stands as the tallest mountain in New York State, it quickly becomes one of, if not the most, visited and ascended peaks in the park on any given weekend. Along with Tyler, a close friend and accompanying author to Nor’East Mountain Mill, an idea was hatched. We would ascend the peak in complete darkness, sitting atop Mt. Marcy in time to offer the first ‘Good Morning’ to the sun as it rose over the mountains, meadows, and lakes of the Adirondacks.

From the get-go, we realized we were in for a long few days. Tyler and I both work full time, and I also bartend in the evenings. Specifically, I was on the clock until approximately 10:30PM the night before our desired morning. Sunrise for September 17 was to occur around 6:30AM. Therein, I had 8 hours to meet Tyler, drive to Upper Works trailhead in Tahawus, and hike the 10.1 miles from the trailhead to Marcy. In hindsight, and upon review of the time schedule we agreed on, I am still in awe that this plan was even considered. Regardless, I left Potsdam, NY at 11PM on the nose, headed to Long Lake boat launch, where I was to rendezvous with Tyler, change out of the clothes I bartended in and into something a bit more mountain friendly, carpooling to the trailhead. Arriving at 12:30AM, I found Tyler asleep in his truck, completely disoriented upon waking (A running theme – See Duck Hole Part 1 post). Good morning pleasantries exchanged, we were on the road through Newcomb, NY and north to Upper Works by 12:45AM. 5 hours 45 minutes until sun-up.

While I’m well on my way to my 46r status, I had not, as of yet, ever used the Upper Works Trailhead before. Certainly a creepy place at night, the feeling of desolation is more than abundant – being there alone would make anyone a bit skittish. Parking the truck in the upper lot, we signed the registry, something that was forgotten on the Duck Hole adventure of which I did not take part. I have no direct affiliation with any park agency, but for the sake of anyone you plan to meet, as well as the rangers and volunteers sent to find your lost ass, please, remember to sign the register! That said, we got a move on – Marcy bound at 1:37 AM. Approximately 0.3 miles down the trail, we realized something we would come to battle with for the remainder of the morning. It is frigid. We picked the night of the first official frost of fall to spend the night outside. Fortunately, some thought was put into what that summit weather would be like in advance, and were prepared for cold weather, though we never thought we would be pulling it out just shy of the parking lot. For clarity sake, my pack included: 3L water, 4 sandwiches, 4 cereal bars, 1 flannel, 1 softshell jacket, 1 raincoat, 3 long sleeve shirts, winter gloves and hat, spare winter socks, camera (T2i), headlamp + batteries, map/compass/gps/lighter/bandages/string/knife, long pants, and some testicular fortitude.

The trail from Upper Works to Flowed Lands is pleasant and gradual, as the most challenging part of this hike is actually getting in to the mountain. Somewhere between 0.5 and 1 mile from the parking lot, however, we found ourselves at a cross roads. The trail very clearly went off to the right, as the map said it would in order to cross the river, but was blocked by large amounts of brush. Deliberately put there, we were confused as to what to do – there was a FRESHLY cut trail staring at us as an alternative to the blocked route. Remembering the signs at the registry, I could not think of any mention of a rerouted trail. Somewhat halfheartedly, we took the fresh trail instead of the blocked route, figuring that Hurricane Irene may have washed out the bridge a few weeks earlier. As we later found out, this was precisely the case. The new trail connects with the original trail in approximately 0.5 miles, crossing the river then. No problem.

Continuing in the dark, we reach Flowed Lands in the midst of typical post-grad loud and raucous conversation, undoubtedly sultry in nature, accidently waking those in the local lean-to. To the people that we awoke, if you are reading this now, know that I am not sorry. I was having a blast. From Flowed Lands, the trail continues to Lake Colden. Standing on the dam in absolute darkness, headlamps off, and looking down the lake in pure moonlight is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. This is the kind of place you ask a woman to marry you. The shadow of Lake Colden and the glimmers of moonlight on the water are simply breath taking. From Lake Colden, the trail follows the Opalescent River and Feldspar Brook, passing Hanging Spear Falls, a merely a loud, rushing river with 60 foot cliffs in the dark, but something to be gawked at in the daylight. Following the river and brook, we found that this area still has some blow down from Irene. In the darkness, some thorough bushwhacking was involved as a work-around. On our return journey, we discovered that these obstacles were not nearly as challenging as they were made out to be at night. At nearly 3.5 miles from Lake Colden, you find yourself passing the shores of Lake Tear of the Clouds. Cool name, dinky pond. This pond, however, is the highest known source of the Hudson River, earning my respect and appreciation for the body of water it fuels.

Approximately 0.3 miles past Lake Tear, Four Corners, located in the valley between Skylight Mountain and Gray Peak, is reached. Hang a left, Mt. Marcy; a right, Skylight. Push straight through and continue on to Panther Gorge and Mt. Haystack (Post to come). Now 5:55AM, we vaulted up Marcy, hustling so as not to miss the sunrise. By this time, we had covered over 9 miles and had worked up quite a sweat, hiking in sub-30 degree weather in long sleeve shirts. As we crested tree-line, however, life became, in a word, COLD. Bundling up, we shuffled our way up Schofield Cobble, through already forming veins of ice, and to the summit. 6:15AM.

Success. We had summited Mt. Marcy, the tallest mountain in New York, before the sun rose and on zero sleep. We are either complete idiots, or seriously badass.

Reveling in our accomplishment, we snapped photos, had a drink of water (my first of the trip, whoops), and shivered like Bear Grylls off camera. At 20 degrees Fahrenheit, plus a steady 10-15 mph hour wind, our summit lives were extremely uncomfortable, all while in one of the most unique locations and scenarios I have encountered in quite some time. In all, we spent 20 minutes at the summit before we were forced to descend due to numb hands and feet. Approaching Four Corners, There is a clearing, labeled as ‘No Camping,’ where we chose to sit and rest. This break turned into the two of us laying our raincoats and pack rain flies on the frost covered grass and taking a well-deserved nap. Waking at 8:30AM, we continued through Four Corners and ascended Mt. Skylight, an easy 0.5 mile hike to a glorious summit. By this time, the sun had warmed the area, and we were able to hike in just flannel shirts to the top, where we enjoyed an hour of solitude. Basking in the shadow of Marcy, we could see people arriving at the summit, undoubtedly thinking they were the first of the day to arrive. It is a great feeling to know that they were not, you were, and there is no need to share it with them. Accomplishments kept to oneself are the accomplishments I am most proud of.

Eating our ‘lunch’ on Skylight, we left after about an hour of sustained relaxation. Traveling back along the trail we came, we again approached Lake Tear of the Clouds, this time crossing the lake outlet and following the unmarked path 0.5 miles to the summit of Gray Peak. Certainly an easy ascent, Irene blow down was yet encountered but easily worked through. The summit of Gray, while wooded, offers several boulders which provide great opportunities for photos of Skylight, Marcy, Colden, Algonquin, and Iroquois. Descending the mountain after approximately a half hour, we met a 46r, Gary, doing trail maintenance on Gray. Per his request, and our interest in what he was doing, Tyler and I helped remove a tree that had fallen across the path, a 15 minute adventure into trail maintenance, something of which I have never partaken.

My least favorite part of hiking is always our exit from the mountains. Specifically, this becomes more challenging if you leave the same way you came in. This day, however, would be different; we would see everything we missed on our approach to Marcy that morning. Taking our sweet time, we travelled from Lake Tear out to Upper Works, largely in silence due to our significant lack of sleep, and sighed in relief with the knowledge that we accomplished precisely what we said we would do. Strong will breeds strong minds and stronger friendships. The future holds nothing but great ideas waiting to be hatched, tweaked, and accomplished.

Duck Hole Part 1

Duck Hole via Henderson Lake, August 19-21, 2011 Part 1

After a long talk with one of my colleagues I finally found a new spot in the Adirondacks to explore, Duck Hole. A little more secluded then most canoe camping venues in the park it requires 4 portages. 3 are short and easy, but the other, is one of those carries that makes you question your passion for the outdoors. Duck Hole is the essence of flat water paddling in the Adirondacks. It offers some of the best and most unique views of the high peaks in the park. It is a man made lake, originally dammed to help fight forest fires by a logging company around 1912. The dam has been in rough shape for the past decade or so. The issue to repair or replace a dam in an area designated as forever wild has brought with it a large debate. More on that later…

Joining the real world last summer has put a major ruffle in getting out in the woods in a timely fashion. The plan was to leave work in Syracuse area as soon as possible, pick up the puppy and the canoe and take off for Upper works a short 4 hr. drive away. I was to meet Tyler at a Lean-to at the beginning of the portage between Henderson Lake and Upper Preston Pond. Tyler, who had a considerably shorter drive up, was going to get the 1.1 mile portage out of the way Friday night while I was driving up, and hike back to meet me at the lean-to before dark. It was a perfect plan for the perfect late summer trip.

20 minutes into my drive I hit a 13-mile standstill on I-90…not so perfect. After about an hour and a half delay I was back moving. The goal of getting to the lean-to before sunset is now out of the question. I arrive at the Upper works Parking area at 9:30 PM. For those that have never been, the upper works parking area is at the end of the historic Tahawus tract. This is an area rich in Adirondack history. It contains what used to be The Adirondack Iron works, and the small settlement that formed around the business in the mid 1800's. By day the area would be great to explore, it contains a 50-60 ft. blast furnace and many buildings from around the 1850's. This even includes the house that Teddy Roosevelt stayed at during his hike up Mount Marcy, where he received the news that McKinley had been shot. Very interesting stuff...during the day. At night, Tahawus looks less like an interesting historical site and more like an abandoned ghost town, especially when you are alone without cell phone service.

The parking lot has 20 or so cars in it, but there was no sign of any other people. It is pitch black out, a perfectly clear night, but no moon. I proceed to unload my Hornbeck, gear and Hudson(my ferocious 6-month old golden retriever) by headlight and work up enough courage to start the half mile carry to Henderson Lake. On my way out of the parking lot, I see Tyler's truck (old blue) and I was a little relieved knowing that he was out there waiting; I go to sign in and get moving. I sign in the logbook, but I do not see Tyler's entry. Without thinking much about it I get going.

The carry from Upper works to Henderson Lake is simple. It’s about .5 miles on a nicely groomed trail following the very beginning part of the Hudson River. It was a bit challenging to balance my pack, 14 ft. canoe and a very excited puppy all by headlight. By the time I got to Henderson Lake it was about 10:15 PM. I did not hesitate in packing up my boat and getting out on the water with the dog. The water was much warmer than the air, causing a dense cloud of steam to lift off the lake. My headlamp was about as useful as high beams in fog. I switch off my light and after a minute or so my eyes adjusted to the moonless night. I was looking at, to this day, the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in nature. All I saw were silhouettes of enormous mountains cascading into the water, and perfect reflections of the night's sky being lifted up by a gray steam. No picture could capture the perfection that surrounded me. I continued to keep my light off and I followed the eastern shoreline until I got out of the first Bay of Henderson Lake and then began to paddle towards the northwestern corner of the lake, where according to my map the portage begins and Tyler should be waiting.

As I reach the northwest corner, I turn back on my headlamp scanning those shore for that beautiful ADK reflective trail markers to no avail. I hear a stream a couple hundred feet up from me start heading that way. The portage from Henderson to Upper Preston Pond follows that stream, so I was in luck. Unfortunately it is still pitch black out and I managed to paddle myself and get stuck in about 6 inches of water and 10 feet of muck. I am also getting very concerned that there is no sign of Tyler. No fire, no smoke, no lantern and no answer to my echoing calls from the water. I was able to shake loose from the muck and take my boat out next to the stream. Still no trail marker or sign of other people. I leave my pack and the canoe there and start searching for the lean-to, praying that Tyler is there. After 20 minutes of calling for Tyler and hopelessly following the lakes edge and circling back towards the stream I am getting very concerned. I was beginning to second guess whether or not he was even out there. He didn’t sign in to the book, was that really his truck? Was the lean-to even there? It wasn’t on the map, I am solely going off of information passed on to me by my colleague at this point. Just as I was on the verge of accepting the fact that I was going to be alone in the wilderness that night, I find him, snoring, tucked up in the back of the Lean-to. When I woke him up he was a little jumpy, thought it was 3 AM (it was about 11:30 PM) and told me, " Dude, I didn't think you were coming"…what a good friend.

Long Lake to Tupper Lake

It's one of those trips that you plan all winter and spring for. You spend dinner after dinner talking and planning what you should bring, where you're going, and how far you will go. Its one of those father-son trips you wait all summer for and finally on the last weekend before the leaves begin to change and the cool wind blows, you enter the wilderness for the ultimate get-a-way.

On a rainy, dreary Saturday morning we departed from the NYS DEC boat launch on the east shore of Long Lake. We began paddling- warm coffee from Stewart's still in the cup holders- for the beautiful open waters of Tupper Lake. Our goal was to paddle from Long Lake to Tupper Lake on a 2 day- one night trip. We had predetermined the trip was around 26 miles and would be an achievable classic trip(we later properly calculated that the trip was approx 45 miles).

The start of the paddle up Long Lake is littered with houses, motor boats and even sea planes. The cross-wind provided a nice morning shower on your lap and gear, but at about 1/2 way up the lake, the camps died out and the lean-to's began to appear. The view opens up to the east providing great shots and views of the high peaks. It is here the Northville-Placid trail begins to follow the lake for a short while.

As you approach the end of Long Lake, you'll have an easy navigation around shallow water eventually entering the Raquette River (where you will be spending most of your remaining time paddling). The paddle of the Raquette is very calm and surreal. It's easy flowing current and very quiet surroundings provides one of the best rivers in the ADKs to paddle.

A little after midday, we arrived at the Raquette falls carry. No matter what you read, no matter where you read, please do not take this lightly, this carry is not easy. It looks much shorter on the map, a piece of cake some may say. It didn't help that I was carrying two kayaks that weighed around 55 lbs each...empty. Throw all the gear and water in there, you have quite a load on your hands. A cart may not be the answer to all your prayers with all the rocks en route, but will provide much needed relief.

By the end of the carry, my hands were exhausted to a point where I could barely hold the paddle let alone the handle of the kayak. My shoulders and neck muscles didnt want to carry anything besides my head, and even that they struggled with. Let it be clear, if you have a light weight canoe with minimal gear, I would classify this as easy. But anything beyond that, its an uphill battle for most of the way. At the end of the carry there are there 2 Lean-to's that were conveniently taken. Although exhausted from the day of paddling and 1.5 mile carry, the trip had to go on.

That evening we ended up paddling past 3 or 4 lean-to's that had already been taken. We eventually had to get off the water due to the diminishing daylight. We set up the tent we carried along and stayed at a lean-to with two other guys that had paddled down from Corey's. They provided great company and an already lit fire.

The next morning we continued our paddle to Tupper Lake. Paddling past Corey's and the Indian Carry--the route to Saranac Lake -- as well as the Crusher boat launch. These three spots are perfect alternate endings or even a great way to prolong your trip (Indian Carry 90 miler route).

Shortly before the end of the Raquette River, there is a loop in the river that you can avoid -- but you can also mistakenly take it like we did. It takes you around to the nature trail look out of the Wild Center museum. It was here we were asked brilliant questions from awed on-lookers. The best question being-- is the river one way or are you allowed to paddle the other way too? Regardless, it provided much entertainment to our exhausted bodies.

After 45 miles it was an even more pleasant site to see the open waters of Tupper Lake. Our support group provided a warm welcoming from the bridge as we passed the home stretch. The overall trip was a success, succeeding in making it to Tupper Lake.

It provided a great learning experience that we would take with us from this point further. Immediately after we bought a water pump to avoid lugging water. We purchased kayak wheels to ease the future carries we would endure. As well as buying warm compact sleeping bags. In a desperate effort to cut down on what to bring, we packed light fleece sleeping bags that fit nice in our kayaks. That evening out in the woods, it dropped to around 40 degrees, and to this day is one of the worse nights of sleep I have ever gotten in the woods. I'm still working on the most important purchase, a light weight pack canoe.

In the end what doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger. Paddle on

ADK Mountain Club Ididaride 2011

August 14, 2011. My second Adirondack Mountain Club Ididaride in just as many years.  In its sixth rendition, the route starts at the Ski Bowl in North Creek, NY, passes the Gore Mountain access road, and continues on a punchy 75 mile loop through downtown Speculator and Indian Lake. Now, I’ve been riding competitively and recreationally for several years and consider myself to have grown away from my early ‘fly and die’ days as a cyclist. That said, a 75 mile ride with a hair over 6,800 feet of climb is nothing to scoff at. If you’ve never ridden the route before, the numbers may seem daunting, especially if you are in the early years of your cycling obsession. Rest assured, the ADK Ididaride is nowhere near the four hours of grueling pain you would expect. Keep in mind, this is a group ride! People stop and smell the flowers, mosey on through the four rest stops, and light up the proverbial cigarette. With several hundred riders now participating yearly, not only is this a great fundraiser for the club, but you are 100% guaranteed to find other riders cruising at your pace; life is easy! This twisty, rural loop is the ideal venue for making friends, meeting future training partners, adventurists, and thrill seekers. Anyone with the fortitude to look at a punchy 6,800 feet and chuckle is precisely the kind of people life is about meeting, and they all ride bikes!

For those looking for the hill descent of their lives, without all of the trepidation of a 55 mile warm up, the organizers also provide transportation to Indian Lake for a 20 mile bee-line back to the Ski Bowl. If you’re still looking for your climbing legs, however, or just want to get fast in as little time as possible, I highly recommend doing this route in the opposite direction, climbing North Creek Hill. You may cry the whole way up, as the ascent is not for the faint of heart, but the gratification will be worth every tear. For those looking for the chance to feel the sensation of descending at Mach 2 with your hair on fire, North Creek Hill is the place to be. With a relatively unaggressive grade, the length of the descent drives your speed. Go as fast or slow as you like and are comfortable with, but know the hill is something to be largely marveled at and is the definition of a cheap thrill (worth every penny). For those looking to push themselves, this is a strikingly easy location to push 50+ mph.

An easy, rolling grade along the Hudson River through North Creek for the remaining five miles, riders finally feel the advantages of descending into the valley, and have plenty of time to recount their own North Creek Hill descent stories. Upon arrival back to the Ski Bowl, the ADK Mountain Club graciously provides a full barbeque and ice cold beer to returning riders. I can’t imagine any other way to spend a Sunday morning in early August.