Showing posts with label Seymour. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Seymour. Show all posts

Sunday, June 1, 2014

Seward Range and Seymour 2014-06-01

In order to get an early start to the hike, Tom (Boghollow) invited me spend Saturday evening at his cabin on Oseetah Lake. Inaccessible by car, I was treated to a three mile boat ride to reach his eponymously named cabin ("Bog Hollow"). From the lake one could see Scarface, Mckenzie, the Sawtooth Range, Seymour, and Seward. Spring peepers filled the evening with their song as I watched the sun set from the cabin's porch. The sky was clear and would have made for a good night of star-gazing. However, we turned in with the sunset because we had a big day ahead of us.

Adirondack charm.

Last sunset of May 2014.
I awoke at 4:45 AM to the tune of my phone's alarm. It was early dawn and the cabin's interior was faintly illuminated. Tom emerged from his room and proceeded to brew a pot of coffee. Over breakfast we discussed the day's itinerary. We planned to be at the trail-head at 6:30 AM and Steve (Little Brown Mushroom) indicated he'd arrive at 7:30 AM. There was a possibility he would catch up with us.

Early morning at Oseetah Lake.

Farewell Bog Hollow.
Our breakfast was leisurely and the boat ride through the morning's mist felt like we were on a fishing trip. We docked, covered the boat with a tarp, then drove to a nearby convenience store for snacks. By the time we arrived at the Seward trail-head we were running a little behind schedule. It proved to be fortuitous because Steve was running well ahead of schedule and was already at the trail-head. We departed together at 7:05 AM under clear skies.

The chosen route was well known to all three of us: ascend Donaldson, Emmons, and Seward via the Calkins Brook trail then descend to the Ward Brook Truck trail and head to Seymour. Calkins Brook was easily crossed via a rocks and the trail to Donaldson was in good shape with the exception of one (normally) muddy spot. We paused on the summit for a snack then continued to Emmons. We all agreed the man-high steps found along the trail were easier to tackle in winter. We stopped on Emmons for another snack and tried to appreciate what little in the way of views it offered (hint: it's like the summit of Nye). 

Shortly after descending Emmons, we met a solitary hiker heading to Emmons. He indicated he had left a shirt somewhere along the trail and asked that we leave it be because he would return for it. Shortly before reaching Donaldson we met two more hikers out to visit "D-E-S". We passed Donaldson's summit without pausing and dropped into the col. I had finished my liter of water and expected to find a trickle but there was none. We went over the shoulder, dropped into the second col, and then began the steep ascent to the summit. Steve spotted the hikers's shirt. Its location indicated the lone hiker was doing an "out and back" of Seward, Donaldson, and Emmons from the Ward Brook Truck trail.

Water flowed over the "rock slide" and we paused at its top for me to sip water from its source. I had recently acquired a Sawyer Mini filter and was eager to test it in "drinking straw" mode. After slaking my thirst, we continued to the summit. We stopped for lunch and Tom introduced us to "Spam on Seward". We were soon joined by the lone hiker. We chatted briefly and then he sped down Seward's northern trail. We left a few minutes afterwards.

Tom's invention: Spam on Seward.

The upper third of the route was as challenging as I had recalled. I joked with Steve that this section was "Scientifically designed to hurt you." It took us 20 minutes to descend (carefully). I consider the middle third to begin where the upper third's steep rock, roots, and running water peter out and give way to a noticeably kinder and gentler trail-bed made of soil and mud. The middle section took us 25 minutes to descend. I consider the final third to begin at the water-crossing and end at the Truck trail. We stopped at the crossing to guzzle water and take on a liter or two for the trip to Seymour. The last third took us 20 minutes to descend.

Upon reaching the Ward Brook Truck trail we met the lone hiker who introduced himself as Jason. Hearing that we would be continuing to Seymour, he joined our group.

Seymour's ascent was everything one would expect it to be after hiking the Sewards. During the climb, conversation bred familiarity and Jason confessed that when he met us on Seward he didn't expect gentleman of our vintage to "move so fast". It had spurred him to join us for the hike to Seymour. Frankly, Jason had been doing quite well without us seeing that it was his very first hike of the year and he had done "D-E-S" the old-school way (out and back). We enjoyed his company and encouraged him to join the ADK High Peaks forum.

Tom and Steve reached the summit first followed by Jason and I a few minutes later. Seymour was Jason's 44th ADK High Peak and we congratulated him. We met Gary Koch on the summit and two other hikers who, at the time, I didn't know one was also a forum member (Hello Sininho!) 

Tom and Steve tagging Seymour.
The Santanoni Range from Seymour.
We spent about a half-hour on Seymour. Its views had eluded me on several previous trips (notably in winter) but today I was in luck and took the time to appreciate the day's efforts. Although all four objectives had been achieved, there was still the matter of the long walk back to the trail-head. We made a speedy descent and reached the Truck trail at 4:30 PM. I had to stop one last time for water and then hurried to catch up with the group.

We reconvened at the junction with the Calkins Truck trail and then, with Jason in the lead and setting a brisk pace, we sped down the trail and exited at 6:00 PM. The trip took us just under eleven hours, including several extended breaks. That's a full two hours faster than my first attempt in 2011. A big "Thank you!" goes out to my fleet-footed companions for an enjoyable and speedy day!

See all photos.

Saturday, March 8, 2014

Seymour. 2014-03-08

Saturday, March 8, 2014

The second day of three days in the Adirondacks.


I hoped Saturday would offer a decent view but the weather wasn't very cooperative. Along the way I met 'ADK Strider' who was finishing his Winter 46 on Seymour. Three-quarters of the way up Seymour I met a hiker who I had met, briefly, during a hike to the Santanonis. What a small world!

The cloud ceiling began to drop and I pushed to the summit to get the last of the day's views. The Seward Range and the Santanonis were already shrouded so I felt fortunate to get even a meager view. I scribbled "CONGRATS W46" in the snow for ADK Strider and began a quick descent to the truck trail. Along the way down I met ADK Strider and then Andrew Lavigne whose travels, on his web-site have kept me entertained and informed.


Out and back to Seymour from the 'winter trail-head' (Raquette River trail-head') in 7h 20m. 

To kill time during the walk back, I thought of what I would have for supper. I returned to the hostel and cooked up a feast: Medium-rare 11 ounce rib-eye steak topped with sautéed cremini mushrooms and onions accompanied by brussels sprouts, green beans, potatoes and washed down with red wine. That night, I slept like a baby!


Although I didn't know it at the time, I later discovered that Seymour was my 46th solo peak and capped off my first solo round of the ADK 46.

Dramatic start to the day.

A feast fit for a king or a hungry hiker.

Photos

See all photos.




Saturday, February 2, 2013

Seymour 2013-02-02

Souvenirs from Seymour:
  • Two lacerated shins.
  • One hamstring welt.
  • One torn hiking-pole wrist-strap.
  • One torn Hillsound Trail Crampon.
  • Seven hours of good times with great hiking companions. 

Most of this trip featured luck and the profound absence of it. In other words, it was just another random day in the High Peaks.

I rolled into Tupper Lake late Friday afternoon without a motel reservation. The first motel's illuminated "No Vacancy" sign came as a surprise. Shaheen's motel appeared to have vacancies so I walked in. I learned the Northern Challenge ice-fishing contest was being held the following day and the town's motels were filled with eager anglers. Lucky for me, Shaheen's had a last-minute cancellation and I snapped up the room. I was warned the anglers would be arising at 3:30 AM. I always bring ear plugs and they were definitely needed. No one appears to sleep before one of these events.

I had supper at a local restaurant and accidentally burnt my tongue. I don't recall ever doing that and, wow, does it hurt! After the initial shock subsided, all subsequent mouthfuls were moderated with cold water to numb the pain. Dessert was a soothing ice-cube. 

On Saturday morning at 7:00 AM, I met Tom (BogHollow) and John (JohnnyCakes) at the intersection of Coreys road and route 3. We proceeded to the Raquette River trailhead where we transferred our gear to Tom's 4WD pickup and continued on to the Seward trailhead. Coreys road was in fine shape, certainly no worse than when I saw it on December 22nd. Except for one partial obstruction (a fallen tree), there was little debris and the surface had no more than two inches of snow on a solid base.

We were one of a few vehicles in the lot and were shortly joined by another containing two gentlemen heading for Seward, Donaldson, and Emmons. We signed in around 7:30 AM. The sun was up, the morning air was crisp and cold, and I looked forward to a pleasant day. Surely, the trail would be in better shape than in December. 

A few minutes into the hike, Tom remembered he had left his lunch in his truck. We encouraged him to get it and took the intervening time to put on our traction aids. Had I checked my pack I would've noticed I had forgotten to bring gaiters. I had set out without wearing them and planned to put them on later in the morning. Not until several miles into the hike did I realize I had forgotten to bring them altogether. I guess there really is a first time for everything. Needless to say, this did not prove to be a lucky break.

Skiers, or backpackers with pulks, should reconsider using this trail unless there is another substantial snowfall. The recent thaw has virtually eliminated the snowpack and replaced it with a thick veneer of ice dusted with snow. Frankly, I found the coverage to be remarkably similar to what I saw on December 22nd with the exception of open water being replaced by vast sheets of ice. We encountered flooded areas capped with an inch of ice that failed to support our weight. Despite the frigid temperature (10 F), muddy water hid under the veneer of ice. Streams were running full but were crossed without incident.

Where's the snow?
Conditions improved at higher elevations where we found about three to four inches of snow on a hard base. This combination proved to be my downfall (literally) later in the day. About halfway up, we switched from spikes to snowshoes. We reached the summit at 11:20 AM where we stopped for lunch. A light snowfall had begun earlier in the morning and there were no views from Seymour's summit. The temperature had fallen to 5 F and Tom's toes said it was time get moving. We began our descent at 11:45 AM.

Tom and John.

Seymour, my 35th winter peak.
Tom and John, in that order, sped down the herd path. I wasn't moving as quickly and confidently; it was an "off" day for me. The lack of gaiters had not posed a problem during the ascent. In contrast, my descent was kicking up snow. It efficiently slid down the back of my pants and into the tops of my warm boots where it formed cold and lumpy "ankle orthotics".

Unable to dig out the lumps with numbed fingers I employed a stick which proceeded to break inside my boot. After prying the errant bit out, I paused to reflect on this rapidly devolving "comedy of errors". The great irony was that I was wearing plastic bags on my feet to keep my boots dry! Fat lot of good that would do now that snow was entering my boots. My feet weren't the least bit cold so, rather than improvise gaiters (with bandannas or spare socks), I chose to ignore the inconvenience. Grin and bear it.

Being third in line, there was little snow left for traction and I descended at a very cautious pace. I could see where my companions had chosen to butt-slide and, as someone who rarely partakes, those sections proved to be the most challenging to descend. I reached a long stretch of steep ice (bare rock slab in summer) and decided it was a good time to sit on my butt and let gravity take over. It was not one of my better decisions.

In the blink of an eye I lost control, tumbled head over heels, and slid backwards in a fetal position. Naturally, time seemed to slow down and I recall thinking "Trees. Brace yourself. Bound to get thumped in the head." Right on cue it did but, lucky for me, it was just a firm tap.

I got up, dusted off the snow, and did a quick assessment of my condition. Besides a laceration on my left shin (gaiters would've been useful), a torn wrist-strap, and vision obscured by snow-covered eyeglasses, I was fine. I didn't discover the welt on my left hamstring until later that evening.

I looked through the trees below me and saw Tom and John peering at me. Tom asked if I was OK and then described my fall. Rubbing the back of my head, I laughed and conceded I had shown all the grace of tumbling sack of potatoes. John added he was experiencing some difficulty following in the wake of Tom's butt-slide. They promoted me to point-man and I remained upright for the balance of the descent.

Forty-five minutes after departing the summit, and one "butt-slide gone bad" incident later, we emerged onto the Ward Brook truck trail. We spent the next two and a quarter hours sharing anecdotes and personal experiences. I can't think of a more enjoyable way to make the miles disappear than good conversation.

Our discussion was interrupted by a few distractions, mostly punching through the thin ice crust. While attempting to avoid a dunking, I leaped to the right where my shin connected squarely with the point of an unseen branch. Now my right and left shins had matching lacerations. It was one of those days.

Within two miles of the trailhead, something seized the back teeth of my right Trail Crampon and tore a chain out in mid-step. Rather than spend time fixing it with a zip-tie, I chose to remove it and experience having one 'grippy' and one 'slippy' boot. I learned it's important to remember which one is which!

We signed out at 2:45 PM, seven and a quarter hours from our departure. Seymour was my 35th winter peak and part of John's third winter round and Tom's second. After a quick trip back to the Raquette River trailhead, we put on parkas and raised bottles of Tom's excellent IPA to toast our success. All's well that ends well.