(Fitzgerald Falls (mile 1378.6) - West Mountain Shelter (mile 1400.1)

I got hiking this morning at about 7:30am. Immediately, the trail scrambled up the rocks to the right of the waterfall. This set a precedent for most of the morning, which was filled with rocky, technical climbs. Like yesterday, these were climbs requiring me to abandon my trekking poles, in favor of a hand-over-hand approach up the mountainsides. Yesterday, the climbs really started to grind on me, but this morning, I was in a good mood. The terrain was really cool and really pretty. It was a great temperature too.

I stopped for breakfast on a rock and checked Guthook. While scoping the day’s landmarks, I learned that there was a terrific swimming hole coming up in about 10 miles. Guthook comments claimed that it is the best swimming hole on the AT so far, so I was excited to investigate.

After 5.5 miles, the trail routed me past Little Dam Lake. As I hiked along, I felt that without a doubt, this was the place on the AT that has most reminded me of canoe country. The slender lake, rocky shores, and lily pad-covered waters were strikingly similar to some remote lakes in the Crownlands and Quetico. I stopped to get some pictures and noticed a series of what appeared to be paths cut through the lily pads on the water’s surface. I followed one of these paths with my eyes and spotted a beaver dam near where I was standing along the shore. I walked towards it and a group of beavers (I think I counted five) plopped into the water. The beavers started swimming around and every so often, one of the bolder beavers would swim up close to the shore, in what I perceived as a transparent effort to check me out. I saw a lot of beavers in Ontario and Minnesota, but they would always slap their tales and dive under when the canoes got anywhere near. but these beavers almost seemed curious to investigate my presence. I think this was the closest I have ever been to a beaver, and I managed to get some pretty good pics. In short, Little Dam Lake was awesome.

About 2.5 miles past Little Dam Lake, I crossed NY Route 17 and met a trail angel named Fred, who had Gatorades, brownies, banana bread and apple sauce cake in his trunk. I had a brownie and red Gatorade and sat on a cooler to chat with Fred. Soon after, Delta showed up and Fred told us a lot about the history of the region and also demonstrated his fluency in Winston Churchill quotes, which seems to be a theme for old guy trail angels. Maybe it’s just part of the aging process for men?

Delta and I hiked on, immediately crossed above Interstate 87, and continued the next ~1.6 miles to Island Pond, the much anticipated swimming hole. A small dirt road broke crossed the trail and led to the pond, ending in a boat ramp. Along the shore where lots of good rocks for lounging, so Delta and I took the opportunity to hang out, rinse off, and eat lunch.

The north end of Island Pond looking south. This would be a hell of a campsite

After Delta and I finished our lunch, we started making our way back to the trail and could hear Katie, Jasmine, and Puddin’s voices carrying through the trees. Sure enough, we joined up with them right as we made it back to the trail. We continued on for less than a half mile before making it to the “Lemon Squeezer,” which is a sort of crevasse between massive boulders that’s just a little too narrow to fit through easily with a pack. We squeezed through as a group with many a silly word of reamer-related, juice-themed encouragement.

Just past the Lemon Squeezer was a short cliff requiring a moment of free climbing. Nothing too dangerous, but definitely challenging with a full pack. There was a detour around the cliff marked “EASY WAY ↑”, which in classic thru hiker fashion, had been tagged “Bill Bryson would have gone this way…” We did not go the easy way.

After our cliff climb, I had to stop to dig a cat hole, so the Dinos hiked on without me and I ended up hiking solo for the rest of the day. This was fine with me, as I was halfway through the audiobook for “How to Change Your Mind” by Michael Pollan. The subtitle offers a fitting synopsis: “What the New Science of Psychedelics Teaches Us About Consciousness, Dying, Addiction, Depression, and Transcendence.” The book is superb, taking what I feel is a balanced approach to reassessing our societal biases towards psychedelics in the midst of a renaissance in scientific research. These new studies, led by researchers at Johns Hopkins and NYU, are producing a flood of evidence suggesting that classical psychedelic drugs can be used responsibly for medicine and recreation. Today, the chapter that stood out most described the use of psilocybin, the psychoactive compound in magic mushrooms, in anxiety treatment for people in end-of-life-care for advanced chronic disease. Essentially, mystical experiences facilitated by psilocybin helped patients come to terms with their mortality. The anecdotes were beautiful, and I’ll admit I cried as Michael Pollan described an older woman with terminal cancer who found peace with her diagnosis after a trip. My heart strings really got tugged as her husband recounted her amazing calm and cheer in her final days of life. I must have looked a bit odd, walking down a beautiful section of trail, on a sunny day, headphones in, crying with a big smile on my face. But no one was around to notice.

I passed William Brien Memorial Shelter, which was right on the trail, set in a clearing at the bottom of a rocky hill. The shelter itself had a unique stone lean-to construction with wide stone columns that seemed to emerge from the hillside. I thought it would be a cool place to stop if I had not agreed to meet the Dinos at West Mountain Shelter, which offers a view of the NYC skyline, right from the shelter.

The afternoon offered beautiful ridge hiking with regular views of the Hudson River to the east. In the late afternoon, I ran into Painless and Detox who were hanging out at a tentsite next to the ridge. They both commented something to the effect of “we thought you were way ahead of us,” which I am never sure how to respond to. I barely recognized Painless because he shaved and cut his hair, but it was nice to catch up with two characters I had not seen in a while.

About 2 miles before the shelter, the trail crossed Palisades Interstate Parkway. The parkway features two two-lane highways separated by a wooded median. Hikers have to cross on foot, without any sort of pedestrian bridge or walkway. I have had to cross bigger roads on the AT, but it felt like the traffic was moving exceptionally fast on this one. I waited a bit, got a feel for the speed of traffic, and was able to cross without too much stress.

After the parkway, the trail climbed back up on the ridge, and I almost tripped over a large timber rattlesnake trying to catch the last rays of the setting sun. The snake did not seem too bothered by me and slowly slid off the trail. It only rattled when I got closer for a picture. Just beyond the snake was a 1400 mile marker that someone had arranged with small rocks. I briefly celebrated, snapped some photos, then walked on to discover a second marker constructed from sticks. Finally, at the side trail junction for West Mountain Shelter, I found one last marker painted on the 4x4 post marking the blue blaze.

As I took the 0.5 mile blue blaze to West Mountain Shelter, I felt a satisfying mix of happiness and exhaustion. Today was wonderful. The hiking offered more or less the same terrain as yesterday, but it wasn’t as hot, and this time I was expecting all the rock scrambles. Less heat and proper expectations made everything easier. There was also a lot to look forward to. Tomorrow, we will see the Trailside Zoo and meet up with Jasmine’s parents for a zero day on Long Island!

I made it to the shelter, which was perched on a rock overlooking the Hudson River. I joined the other Dinos and set my stuff up in the shelter. At first I could not spot the NYC skyline, but Katie and Jasmine pointed out a tiny, fuzzy blur on the horizon far to the southeast. I zoomed in with my camera and was actually able make out some of the more iconic buildings. After dinner, I tried to dig a cathole and had a hell of a time trying to find a spot. It seemed like the ground was either rock or somebody’s tentsite. On my way back to the shelter, I found a quiet rock to sit on and record a message for AC before returning to the shelter.