Hurricane Mountain: Back in the Swing of Things

The fire tower of Hurricane, peeking over the summit

Hurricane Mountain (3694 ft)

Difficulty: Moderately Steep

Date of Summit: 5/5/2010

Trailhead to Summit: 2.6 miles

Trip Time: 4 hrs (which included a 30-minute break at top)

Ascent: 2000 ft

Average Walking Speed: 2.1 mph

Temperature: Mid-60's

It had been way too long since I was able to get down to the park and take in the view. It is amazing what an extra-snowy winter and 14-month old daughter will do to your availability and motivation for getting down to the Adirondacks for a hike. Luckily, the stars finally aligned for me to once again visit one of my favorite places on earth.

We had the pleasure of hosting my wife's sister, Molly, and her partner, Paul, for the past week. Molly and Paul live in London, England, so this visit was an extra special one, as it was not only their first experience of the North Country, but also their first official Poutine experience (but I digress...). I like to think that Paul and I agreed to endure a week's worth of shopping, baby oogling, and "sister talk" because we knew that one entire day would be set aside for just "us guys" to take a manly walk in the park.

GPS Track of the hike up to Hurricane

Since this was Paul's first official "American Hike", I knew that it had to count. I spent some time researching hikes and asking questions of the helpful members on hikeadks.com and was beginning to realize that - although the recent days had said otherwise - there was a good chance we'd find some stubborn patches of snow and ice still atop the peaks. After much deliberation, I decided to choose Hurricane Mountain as Paul's first peak, as it appeared to not only be a challenging peak, but also a rewarding one - as far as the view is concerned.

Since there had been roughly 13 inches of snow fall in the park only a week before our planned hike (on April 28th), I knew that we had to be prepared. After packing the necessary materials and borrowing an extra pair of gaiters from my friend Josh, I was still short one pair of Stabilicers for Paul, in case we ran into icy conditions in the upper portions of the trail. Per the usual procedure, the men dropped the ladies in downtown Lake Placid for a day of shopping and socializing. This proved to be doubly convenient, as I was able to duck into the EMS Store and purchase their last pair of Kahtoola Microspikes for insurance against any potential ice.

Elevation Profile of ascent and descent of Hurricane Mountain

By the time we got to the Route 9N trailhead outside of Keene (hit the jump for a Google street-view) at around 11:30am, the air was feeling cool (mid-60's) and bunches of unthreatening clouds filled the sky. Knowing that we had a hefty 2,000 ft. to climb in just 2.6 miles, we set out on the trail with our spirits high. Our spirits were quickly humbled by the immediate vertical climb that welcomed us, in which we climbed roughly 450 vertical feet in just under a quarter of a mile.

Hiking through the pines

After this initial altitude jump and a quick stop for water, we enjoyed a brief respite from the vertical climb, by way of a relatively easy stroll through flatlands that were filled with a large pond (caused by beaver dams). Coming across a "mountaintop pond/lake" is always a wonderful surprise, as it combines two of my favorites types of natural views into one convenient package!

Catwalk across a pond created by beaver dams

This oasis was unfortunately the last time I smiled (and maybe breathed properly) until reaching the top, as it was ALL UPHILL FROM THERE. My hamstrings, thighs, knees, and lungs were once again reminded of why Adirondack hikes are some of the most challenging in the world. This trail went straight up the mountain, utilizing various old riverbeds and other rocky-havens for the main trail (in looking at the elevation profile of our hike, it seems that we climbed over 1,000 vertical feet in just under one mile). While my body was screaming "NO!", what I saw on the trail was causing my mind to scream "YES!". There was not a single flake of snow or shard of ice to find anywhere. In fact, the trail - for the most part - was relatively dry. On top of that, I never once had to bring out my bug spray, as I had not seen a single black fly or mosquito. All of this was very peculiar, as this time of year was both Black Fly Season AND Mud Season in the Adirondacks. Those factors, coupled with the previous week's 13 inches of snow, demonstrated to me that, just as I had thought and hoped, all the stars were aligned for this trip.

The abandoned fire tower (notice the steps removed) overlooking

Lake Champlain and Vermont's Green Mountains

Finally, after roughly two-hours from leaving our car by the highway, we set foot on the bald, rocky peak. Having climbed a fair share of peaks in the park by now, I can happily report that Hurricane is one of the best views I've experienced in the park, and DEFINITELY the best view from a peak that is not included in the 46 highest (Hurricane is #72). The 360-degree view (click on panorama below) includes both the high peaks and Vermont (Lake Champlain and the Green Mountains). This, coupled with the abandoned and rusting firetower, make this a day-hike not to be missed. Paul and I enjoyed a lunch of beef jerky and sandwiches from the Big M atop Hurricane, and had it's vast summit all to ourselves that afternoon.

Panorama from atop Hurricane's Summit

Paul, atop Hurricane

Our trip down, although it actually seemed slower-going than the way up (doesn't it always feel like that for some reason?), went a bit faster than we had expected. So, four hours later, with our bones and muscles sore, we drove victoriously back to Lake Placid to meet the ladies for an after-hike-drink at Great Adirondack Steak & Seafood Company (they brew some of the best beer in the North Country). So, while I set out to give Paul a "truly American outdoor experience", I discovered a great peak nestled in the northeastern corner of the park that I would definitely return to again. Maybe next time I'll get a chance to actually use those microspikes ;)

Enjoying a cold one after the hike

View from on top: the slides of Colden in the background

Snowshoes on the Sandstone Trail

The map of the trail and the two snowshoers (Andy Sewell & myself)

Red Sandstone Trail

Difficulty: Easy
Date of Hike: 1/25/2009
Length: 2.5 miles
Trip Time: 3 hrs
Temperature: 27 Degrees and snowy

I think that I had been putting off hiking the Red Sandstone Trail (which is located in my hometown, Potsdam, NY) because it seemed both a bit too close to home and just not "Adirondacky" enough for my aspirations. While both of these assumptions proved true, that should have by no means been a reason for me to avoid this wonderful trail. Andy Sewell, who was visiting us for the weekend with his wife, Sarah Miller, accompanied me on this Sunday afternoon snowshoe hike. Andy is no stranger to hiking the region, as he was my hiking partner a few months ago, when we hiked Owl's Head, down in the park.

Sunlight peeking through the clouds at Sugar Island Flow (old Clarkson Quarry)

I have both my home chapter of the Adirondack Mountain Club, the Laurentian Chapter, as well as other organizations such as the local boy scout troop and Brascan Power for making this wonderful and relaxing walk through history possible. While it is a short hike overall (the total mileage is listed as 3.5 miles), we only ended up hiking about 2.5 miles of it, due to our schedule. The entire hike follows the Racquette River, which is a historically interesting body of water, due to it's importance throughout the last 200 years in the lumber, sandstone, and now hydro power industries. Over the course of our hike, we encountered two distinct sandstone quarries (one of which was the famous quarry where Thomas S. Clarkson met his tragic death, causing his sisters to found Clarkson University in his name), four powerhouse/dam structures, a half-mile long pipe/aqueduct section, and a beautiful wood-encased cylindrical water tower. Thanks to the many "interpretive plaques" along the way, one could get a sense of the river's powerful and evolving presence in the region throughout the past two centuries.

Broken Ice Exposing the Racquette after the Sugar Island Dam

This was the perfect hike for winter sports, including both snowshoeing and cross country skiing, for much of the terrain (especially up near Sugar Island) is extremely flat while it follows the river. During this hike, more than any other I've been on, I found myself fascinated (and not at all annoyed) by the continuous presence of man-made structures nestled amongst the natural wilderness. Each one was a more amazing engineering feat than the previous, all of which focused on harnessing the Racquette River's power. From the various dams, to the massive pipeline (which measured at least 10 feet in diameter) and it's eventual end in the Sugar Island Powerhouse (which held two house-sized GE generators), I was awestruck by humanity's ability to control such a massive and powerful amount of earth's most abundant natural resource.

Half-mile Long Aqueduct running to Sugar Island Powerhouse

The weather was wonderful as well, with just enough snow to make using snowshoes practical, while not being too deep to make it not worth the effort. Since we were not able to finish the hike completely, I look forward to returning to this trail in the spring, perhaps with a boat, so that I might be able to experience and appreciate the Racquette's power from yet another vantage point as well.

Water Tower Covered with Wood Planks near Sugar Island Powerhouse

Third Time's a Charm on Mt. Jo

My father, Bill Beck, halfway up Mt. Jo

Mt. Jo (2876 ft)

Difficulty: Moderate
Date of Summit: 10/30/2008
Trailhead to Summit of Jo: 1.2 miles
Trip Time: 2.5 hrs
Ascent: 710 ft

It took me three tries, but I finally took the easy, more enjoyable way up this mountain. Accompanied by my father, Bill Beck, we climbed the back side of Mt. Jo, which was much, MUCH more gradual than the short and steep version that I had experienced in the first and second ascents. After dropping my mother, Kathy Beck, off in the Adirondack Loj for a few hours of serious reading and relaxing in their lounge, my father and I began to tromp through the 6-inch deep snow (that's right - six inches in late October!) towards the trailhead. While we knew that our route would be the longer and more gradual trail, we were still concerned about the snow. As we passed the off-shoot to the short, steep route, we knew that we had made the right decision, for there was not a footprint to be seen on that portion of the trail.

Icicles made of...?

As we slowly climbed around the backside of the mini-mountain, we came across some beautiful icicle formations which appeared, due to their color, to have a substantial amount of iron in them (that's my guess at least). We joked that perhaps this water source was not from a pure mountain spring but perhaps an extremely large animal who just couldn't hold it anymore. We felt lucky to have poles and crampons, for we didn't fall or slip even once on the climb, up or down the mountain. We passed one couple who was resting along the trail, which meant that the duty of blazing the trail through the untouched snow was now our burden, which we gladly accepted. This situation also meant something else - we would be the first people to reach the summit that day, which is always an extra bonus for any hiker.

The clouds rolling over Algonquin

By the time we reached the top, the clouds had left the immediate area, leaving us a nice and open view that could be seen until roughly just before the very top of Algonquin. This allowed for some wonderful pictures (of which we took many, for this was my father's very first Adirondack hike!). As we began to dig into our summit snacks of pretzels and summer sausage, the party we had passed earlier arrived to join us at the top of Mt. Jo. With their help, we snapped a few more pictures and made a call on their cell phone to my mother (we knew that she was worrying about our lives and talking to the ranger about "emergency mountain rescue" at that very moment, just 700 feet below us).

Atop Mt. Jo

Twenty minutes later, we were back on the trail, heading down to my anxiously awaiting mother in the Adirondack Loj. The descent was extremely easy. The six inches of snow made every step feel as if the ground was reaching up with a pillow to cushion your impact, thus easing your joints. Since the temperature wasn't too cold, it was nearly the perfect conditions for a hike in the late (snowy) fall. Having done this mountain three different times now, I can honestly say that it never gets old - the view, the trail, and the company is always changing, which keeps things extremely interesting!

Six inches of snow in October