Snowed Out
The first night we set up camp well after dark, and after a few choice words that would make most people blush, I abandoned my efforts to pitch a proper tent and piled in with Ink and Hamlet, packed like pressed deli meats in the freezer.
On Sunday, Hamlet and Ink re-enacted a precipitous experience the day before on Slide Mountain, where we encountered ice and inclement drops in elevation during our 'spring' hike to the Catskills, by finding another ledge with ice with a not-so-steep drop.
Let's just say we weren't nearly prepared. I packed sunscreen and insect repellent, but after the night passed, the freezing temperatures warmed and the sun came out, it was awesome. The barren trees were beginning to bud pink, and the woods were silenced by packed and unspoilt snow for most of the days.
I felt like communing with Frost and Thoreau and Emerson...
Or at least with Jean Craighead George.
The first night we set up camp well after dark, and after a few choice words that would make most people blush, I abandoned my efforts to pitch a proper tent and piled in with Ink and Hamlet, packed like pressed deli meats in the freezer. We rushed to pull together a meal of paella and quickly gave up waiting for the snow to melt for drinking water. Half-hearted was also our attempt to sling a bear-bag,. As Hamlet and I left the sack hanging limp on a low branch, muttering that 'any bears who happened to come by would laugh at our feeble attempt', the deep recesses of my insides contemplating the various escape routes from sleeping bag, the dead bodies of my buddies, and the wet tent if a bear would have stopped by.
But morning came and our grouchiness gave way to the deafening optimism of the pristine mountains.
More days, more walks, more huffing and puffing by yours truly, but it was worth it. Hamlet and Ink provided reasonable entertainment with their friendly bickering and worst case scenarios (e.g. 'We are going to DIE if we don't turn back!, 'Are you asleep? Did you hear about the serial killer who targeted backpackers in Australia?', 'Ugh, my shoes are so wet!', 'Take off your socks!', 'But I'll get frostbite!')
I'm a urban guy. My natural habitat is a good wine bar with antipasti and a decent selection of cheeses – but hey, a couple of days of hiking in the woods will always screw my head on straight. Something about laboring up hills and taking a stab at self-sufficiency and emptying your thoughts out to the streams and moss and trees.. it really is a liberating experience. I'm already planning my next trip upstate.