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

Adirondack Death March

The view from Algonquin, the second highest peak in the park

Wright Peak (4580 ft) (16th Highest Peak in ADKs)
Algonquin Peak (5114 ft) (2nd Highest Peak in ADKs)
Iroquois Peak (4810 ft) (8th Highest Peak in ADKs)

Difficulty: Steep and Strenuous, both up and down
Date of Summit: 8/14/2008
Total Distance Hiked: 13.6 miles
Trip Time: 10.5 hrs
Total Ascent from hiking 3 peaks: 3753 ft
Temperature: Low 70's

Never again. Don't get me wrong, it was an amazing experience, but I'll never go through agony like that again. The problem wasn't that I was attempting three high peaks in one day. It was attempting the three peaks plus both descending via the steepest trail in the park and conveniently running out of water halfway through the trip.

This guy sat next to me during my morning break

If I had been smart, I would have hiked up to the three peaks and returned back down the same way, thus lowering my total distance to a mere 11.6, two miles less than what I ended up hiking. Instead, I followed the exact route that Martin Heintzelman and I had planned to hike on our overnight trip a few months ago (we ended up hiking just Mt. Marshall, the other peak in the MacIntyre Range - see that post for details). This day hike was a big, grueling loop - I would summit the other three peaks in the MacIntyre Range (Wright, Algonquin, and Iroquois), then take the Algonquin-Lake Colden Trail, which sharply drops 2,000 vertical feet from the col near the backside of Algonquin. After reaching the valley near Lake Colden, I would take Avalanche Pass back to the parking area, via Marcy Dam. In my head it was an achievable goal, but by the end of the trip my legs were telling me otherwise.

The 13.6 Mile Death March

I started out at the trail head at 8am, fresh and ready for adventure. The first leg of the trip went by quickly, and before I knew it, I had reached the intersection of the Wright Peak side trail and the main Algonquin trail. I took the Wright Peak side trail, which proceeded to climb another 500 feet over the next half mile. The summit was well worth the last strenuous half mile, as the bald peak was adorned with large trail cairns and had wonderful views of the surrounding area.

Beautiful six-foot tall Cairns on the approach to Wright's summit

Wright Peak has a bit of history to it as well. It was named after Governor Silas Wright, but is also the site of a memorial to four US Air Force officers, who crashed their B-47 Bomber into the mountain in 1962. Supposedly, there is both a plaque memorializing their lives, as well as artifacts from the plane wreckage still atop the mountain. I was unable to find any evidence, so I guess that gives me a good excuse to return for another look sometime soon.

Atop Wright Peak

I noticed a few things while on Wright Peak. First, Algonquin is HUGE. Even standing atop Wright, it loomed another 1,000 feet higher as its head poked up above the clouds. I also realized how puny and pathetic Mt. Jo is from this peak. It looked like a small anthill from 4580 feet up, which makes sense since Jo is only about 2800 feet. I couldn't help but laugh, since I've made the Mt. Jo hike with family members on two different occasions, both in the summer and late fall. It was also amazing to see how far I had hiked from starting at Heart Lake, in just a couple of hours time.

I think I can see my car from here!

From Wright Peak - the mighty Algonquin waits to be conquered...

After a conversation with a fellow hiker and a quick snack, I was on my way again. I quickly descended the side trail back down to where it meets up with the main Algonquin trail, and promptly rejoined the somewhat steady stream of commuters who were slowly making their way up the mountainside. I hiked for another steep mile, climbing 1,000 feet, and there I was - atop the second highest peak in the park.

Atop Algonquin, Looking down on the Flowed Lands

It was absolutely wonderful. I could see for miles in all directions, wishing that I had the patience to sit down with my map and locate every peak surrounding my position. It was quite chilly on the summit - perhaps high 50's with a decent wind, so one did not sit still for long without having to put on long sleeves. There were probably about 15-20 people on the top of the mountain at any given time, a crowd spanning all ages and hiking abilities.

The Slides of Mt. Colden from Algonquin (Marcy in the distance)

The summit steward was dutifully making his rounds, striking up conversation with as many people he could. Summit stewards are funded by the ADK Mtn Club, Nature Conservancy, and the DEC (Department of Environmental Conservation). The steward hikes up the mountain at sunrise, stays atop all day, and hikes down the mountain at sunset. They stay up there to educate the public on the fragility of the plants in the alpine zone, which is the area above the tree-line.

Atop Algonquin, Iroquois in the distance

I had lunch in my own little quiet corner of Algonquin's summit (it's a tabletop summit almost the size of a football field), with a million dollar view that costs absolutely nothing but a couple hours of exercise. I had already climbed two high peaks today - it was now on to my final peak for the day - Iroquois. I began the descent down the backside of Algonquin, towards Boundary Peak and Iroquois.

The backside of Algonquin, from Boundary Peak

Within 15 minutes of leaving Algonquin's summit, I had already reached Iroquois' summit! I couldn't believe how easy it was to reach this peak! Then I realized something - I was standing on Boundary Peak (this small peak was actually the boundary line between the Iroquois and Algonquin nations, hundreds of years ago) - Iroquois was still a great distance ahead of me! I once again set off for my destination, through a herd trail that was obviously well-used, but extremely narrow and claustrophobic. It was satisfying to reach the summit of Iroquois, because I could finally catch a glimpse of Mt. Marshall, which I climbed a few months earlier. Once again, a peak I had hiked earlier now looked extremely small, looking down from the eighth highest peak in the park.

Atop Iroquois, looking at Mt. Marshall (which Martin Heintzelman and I hiked in June)

After an extremely quick pause atop Iroquois, I backtracked to the col between Boundary and Algonquin. It was the next 1.7 mile stretch that completely broke me. It was 2,000 feet of nothing but vertical drops, consisting of rock face and boulders. Basically, I was hiking in a stream/waterfall bed, and with every step down, my joints and thighs would cringe.

Yep, that's the trail...dropping 2,000 vertical feet over just 1.7 miles

At about 1/3 of the way through this torturous descent, I ran into a couple from Canada. They were having trouble, mainly because the woman's boots had completely fallen apart. The rubber soles had worn away to nothing, exposing the steel shank in each boot as if it were a flapping tongue on its sole. They were planning to hike up to Algonquin and back down to the parking lot, but I convinced them otherwise, as I was really not sure how much further she would make it in those boots and it was starting to get a bit late. That's one thing that I have always taken seriously - your feet should be the one thing that you pamper more than anything else in hiking.

Another trail shot (it doesn't look it, but that is one steep grade...)

It was also about this time that I ran out of water. I had packed two liters of water, but just as I underestimated the size of this hike, I also underestimated my water supply. Luckily, I had potable aqua tablets (iodine tablets) that I used. After dropping one of those tablets into my bottle of fresh stream water, I was once again on my way. When one is that thirsty, they don't mind if the water tastes a bit like a swimming pool.

My emergency water source

I finally got to Avalanche Lake, but I was tired from head to toe and really beginning to worry. My legs (thighs) were so worn out that they would give way with too much weight (so I bore much of that weight on my poles), so I had no choice but to walk straight-legged like a robot for a good portion of the final five miles. To make things worse, I was also once again dehydrated. But this time I was not willing to try the potable aqua, for I just didn't trust the stagnate lake water (I imagined all the Giardia and Cryptosporidium Baddies meeting up down in the lake for a big party, just praying that some stupid hiker with those silly iodine tablets would be desperate enough...).

Beautiful Avalanche Lake (looks much different than two months ago!)

As I stumbled down the trail, weak and cottonmouthy, only one thing could keep me focused on my goal - the drinking water faucet back at the parking lot and the (now necessary) stop I would be making at McDonald's on the way home. I kicked it into high gear and played through the pain (my mom would be proud - I even struck into "I think I can, I think I can..." at one point in my final miles), finally arriving at my car (and that sweet, sweet water) exactly 10.5 hours after I began, at 6:30pm. Exhausted and barely able to walk, I thanked God that I made it back to my car in one piece. My wife thinks I'm crazy for doing that hike, and I'd have to agree with her - it's been over 24 hours since I completed the hike and I'm still barely making it up and down the stairs due to muscle soreness. But I just can't get the mantra out of my head: "6 peaks down, 40 more to go..."

Lampson Falls on the 4th of July

Emily and Cheryl on top of the falls

Lampson Falls

Difficulty: Extremely Easy!
Date of Summit: 7/4/2008
Trailhead to Falls: .44 miles
Trip Time: 45 min
Ascent: 100 ft
Temperature: 78 and sunny

It was the perfect day to enjoy the 4th of July with family. We were blessed to have Emily's mom, Cheryl Bennett, visiting us from Minneapolis! Knowing that Cheryl was a big fan of waterfalls, we figured that this would be the perfect excursion for the afternoon. Not bug, nor crowd, nor firework was anywhere near Lampson Falls, which is hidden just inside the blue line of the Adirondack Park boundary line. I can't believe it's taken this long to discover such a gem! The less than half-mile walk from one's parked car alongside Route 27 in Clare, NY is extremely easy-going for hikers of any age and skill level. Thanks to the trail blazers covering an old logging road with fine gravel, this hike is accessible for wheelchairs and bikes as well.

A felled tree with it's exposed root system (it grew on the rock!)

After about 10 minutes of hiking, we suddenly heard the muffled roar of the falls that were waiting for us around the next bend (I actually thought it was the engine of a plane or truck at first). Before revealing a final view of the falls, the well-groomed trail took us past a MASSIVE tree that has collapsed, exposing it's root system and demonstrating how it had somehow grown on top of the surface of a large boulder.

View overlooking Lampson Falls from end of accessible trail

The view at the end of the accessible trail was very nice, as it looked over the side of the falls, as they spilled into a small pond below. The proximity of a gradually steep dry rock face (which is the reason for the falls' formation) invited us to take a few steps off of the path and onto the side of the falls to get a closer look. Once we got out onto the rocky surface, we discovered that we actually were experiencing a somewhat mediocre view in comparison to other groups experiencing the falls. There were small clusters of people across and below the falls, both on the pond (in Hornbeck Boats (a cool 10' canoe/kayak hybrid made only in the Adirondacks!)) and across the water on the rock shelf. After spotting these other viewpoints, we quickly descended to the pond shoreline, via a more primitive trail (no gravel or logging road anymore).

Emily and me, at the campground near the base of the falls


Fishing in a Hornbeck Boat below the falls

The view from below the falls was well worth the short hike. It was the perfect picnic spot (if we had a basket), the perfect fishing spot (if we had a pole), and the perfect camping spot (if we had a tent). We had a our cameras, so this trip definitely served as a reconnaissance mission, so that we'll be prepared for our next visit - which will definitely be soon!

Emily and Cheryl up by the accessible trail's end, taken from below

Azure Mountain

Azure Mountain Fire Tower, Completely Frozen

Azure Mountain (2518 ft)

Difficulty: Steep
Date of Summit: 2/9/2008
Trailhead to Summit: 1 mile
Trip Time: 2 hrs
Ascent: 700 ft

This might be my favorite hike to date. Perhaps because of who I was able to drag along (my wife, Emily), or perhaps because of the amazing sight I found atop the mountain. Yet another snow -filled hike, which only multiplies the surrounding beauty (I just realized that I haven't had a hike WITHOUT any snow yet!). The trail was a bit hard to follow, but we kept a steady focus on the various ski and snowboard paths that had been carved in recent days, and it eventually led us to the top. The firetower that sits atop Azure Mountain is unbelievable. As you leave the forest, you're welcomed by this tall, majestic structure that feels both like a tomb and a monument (it probably helped the experience a great deal by it being covered in snow and ice). Just as my hike up McKenzie and Moose with Martin Heintzelman, there was little to no visibility to be experienced from the summit of Azure. But that tower is worth a summit 5 times this length and elevation. I can only imagine how peaceful it must have been for the firetower agents, spending hours atop the mountain with nothing but nature to keep them company. I'm really excited to return to this mountain again, so I can properly follow the trail, get the view the so many people talk about, and perhaps even have lunch up in the tower.

View from the Tower


Atop Azure

Click the pic & check out the frost...


My Hiking Partner, My Em
(frozen waterfall in bkgd)


The tree has almost completely swallowed the trail blaze - what an image...


Up in the tower


The bark has been eaten? clawed?
Probably by some animal (or person...or both...)