My planned route intended 14 miles by the string (measured on a flat map and thus lacking the additional mileage due traveling at an angle while gaining/losing elevation) as my run followed by a 4 mile hike out with the boys from Lake Wanoksink to the train at Sloatsburg. Nathan, who is nearly recovered from his last race earlier this month, still feels it a little. Hence recruitment of John, to pace Nathan and give him a day of slower and yet still long miles. For all parties the intention was a good time out and nothing more.
John and Nathan on the train
The Pine Meadow red trail began a mile from the train station and was relatively unmaintained until getting close to the visitor's center a mile in.
Residual from the previous night's rain helped clean the bug spray from our shins.
At the split with a yellow marked trail I continued straight while the boys headed north. Not too much later came the orange marked trail that in either direction offers nice elevation. I intended to go north, as the vertical gain becomes more of a rock scramble to lead to the top of Halfway Mountain (1200 feet). But when I soon hit the orange trail I saw this in front of me -- up! -- and the idea of checking which direction this headed never occurred to me.
Which way? Up! 'Cause up is where the fun is.
Supposedly I'd hit a scenic view very soon, once 1/3 up the side of Halfway Mountain. I found one, and felt proud of myself for remembering my directions without use of my map. At this point my map was still stored in my hydration pack, as was my camera, and since I was already taking the pack off/on/off/on to take pictures I became too lazy to take it off again for a map check. Didn't seem pertinent unless I were to encounter an unexpected turn or crossing, since thus far everything went according to plan. Little did I know that I was actually headed south.
First scenic view, believed to be the unknown view from part way up Halfway Mountain when in fact this was Russian Bear to the south.
I expected to merge with yellow and blue marked trails before continuing on blue. I didn't remember what elevation changes to expect in the mean time, and -- since for some reason I love wild grasses -- was happy to find the trail single track decline through a meadow of sorts.
Wild grass. Love it.
I kept my eye out but saw no other trail crossings. Did I miss them? Well, I thought, if so then I'll keep on until this trail hits Lake Sebago and turn northeast on trails paralleling my original route. Not so tough to miss a lake. Instead of a lake I hit another view, ten times better than before. Oh, maybe the add-on trails weren't well marked and I only now his the second un-named scenic view labelled on the map? Came a bit later than I expected. Then again, plotting via mileage by the string means you could have double the distance between two points than you expected. Okay, onward ho.
This was actually Ramapo Torne, overlooking the town of Ramapo and, in the far distance, the New York/New Jersey state line.
I continue along, but then realize that the orange seems never ending. I should hit the lake straight on, so where is it? Meanwhile I have lovely vagary to guide me between small painted markings on trees. This is when I remember how old grad school has made my eyes, as I keep having to stop at one marking and scan for the next one, because I could imagine three route from where I stand.
If you see a "maintained trail" in this, then you need to be my eyes from now on. Psha.
Soon I get an ingenious idea. My wallet items are in a ziplock type of dry bag that is likely big enough for my camera and, once folded in half again, my map. I'll swap the wallet stuff into the map's cheap plastic ziplock. Behold! I no longer have to remove my pack for pictures and map checks. True genius at times. This is when I hear my more sarcastic friends in my head asking "So, tell us the name of your blog again...?" I hit a downhill and wondered if again my interpretation of distances was incorrect and I was now heading downhill towards Lake Sebago.
Whence I came.
Whither I continue.
I head down for a good 15 minutes and then, lo! I hit the blue trail. I check my map, look at my accrued time -- slow moving or underestimated distance? -- shrug my shoulders and carefully take a right turn. I worry that it'll be a much longer day than expected should I go for the full plotted course, particularly since I started with only 2 liters of fluid. The blue trail was flat and rather unremarkable, save for a doe sighting, so I took comfort in making up for lost time. In my head I was pondering whether to take the next forest road southeast so that I didn't end up farther than I could safely travel in one day. Then the blue hit a red trail that ran perpendicular. Yes, still on course! Wait, the blue bottoms out, but the map says its supposed to continue for another mile. Oh dear. Map check.
I was still quite confused, stood there for a minute trying to figure it out. Where's the lake? This was supposed to actually hit the lake when meeting the next trail, but that's only if I was still on orange. Wait, yes, I was on blue and am now at red. I then heard cars and a couple motorcycles coming from straight ahead. Hang on, none of the roads are supposed to go through here. Ohmygoodness, have I landed across on the east side of the park by Hwy 202? No way. It sounds like a parking lot, there'll be an official map with location labelled, right?
I head up the red trail the 1/8 of a mile and, wait... wait for it... wait for it.... Synapse! I've seen this before. Could it be? Noooo, I didn't end up at the visitor's center did I? I get closer and realize that, yes, that is exactly what I did. I look at the map, trace the orange trail south past two scenic views, follow it's swoop westward, see the blue, follow that north and northeast. I did a loop. A friggin loop when there's miles of trails headed everywhere. Sonofabitch.
Is that the...? Yes, Miss Smartypants, that is the visitor's center back at the start. Think you're sooo clever, "I don't need no stinkin' map, I got it all up here" *tap*tap*. Sigh.
Well, I said aloud to the bugs and the bushes, at least I know where I am, and at least I'm still within distance of the rendezvous.
And so off I went on the same start as before. Pine Meadow trail marked red. Only this time I chose the yellow route that cuts along the north edge of the creek so that I wasn't technically retracing my steps. Yellow turned to white, which was a rock mess. The picture below does no justice to the lots-of-boulders surface requiring a horizontal rock scramble. I just didn't have the heart to take a picture of the evil stuff because I was so over that section. There's nothing useful about a rock scramble unless you go up or down, or unless you are skirting an actual body of water. Pointless judgements, but whatever. Grumble grumble grumble. Oh right, this is why I need to run with people, because then you don't wanna give up so fast once taxed. Mental note.
White trail, also not clear aside from being able to see the next white marker over yonder. Grumble.
I made it to the red trail, somehow the Pine Meadow trail that spontaneously jumped sides of the creek. The surface under foot helped my mood, and again I reassured myself that I knew where I was, and this was a good thing since I left my phone at home. I don't get service in the mountains anyways, and I sweat enough that ev-er-y-thing needs to be okay covered in sweat or needs a dry bag. But not having it made me worry while I was in trail limbo land. The first small lake, Pine Meadow Lake, should be very soon, which means the rendezvous lake, Lake Wanoksink, was very soon thereafter. I looked forward to the swim to help dissolve what grumbles I had left.
Staying positive. Did I ever mention that my latest love is a visor? Hate the logo, but it does its job well. More like a sweat band with a brim. Which is what a "sweat ball," as Nathan calls me, needs.
Within five more minutes I hit Pine Meadow Lake. Aaaah. This time landmarks appeared in an expected amount of time.
Pine Meadow Lake. Super nice to camp next to, according to John.
I find a likely looking forest road, have a good feeling about it, and pull north toward what I hoped was the Lake Wanoksink. It was, and that's where I landed. I saw two shirts drying on a bush that looked quite familiar. I saw John sitting on a log, having just come from a swim in the water. I immediately de-geared, hung my sweaty shirt out to dry after wringing it out. Twice.
Lake Wanoksink. Whew.
Nathan had gone for a running lap around the lake. Expected time 10 minutes. John saw him across the way within 5, but after that hadn't seen him for a half hour. This lake does not have a trail along its edge like at Pine Meadow, so we hoped that he didn't fall in while bushwhacking or veer too far away if vegetation was too thick. He arrived ten minutes later, having bushwhacked for 45 minutes.
Nathan pauses before a swim.
Another half hour later the boys' clothes were nearly dry. I was able to wring mine out again, but at least they were getting somewhere. John comments that I arrived looking like I had already swam through Pine Meadow Lake en route the rendezvous. Nathan calls out "Sweat ball!" My shoes are still soaked from the runoff due to gravity. The air has become cooler within the last half hour too, and we realize clouds have rolled in.
Ooooh, maybe we'll get the rain I've been hoping for all week.
Within minutes it begins to rain. We wait it out beneath the canopy of trees though of course get wet. John foresees it as a light deluge, a common northeast phenomenon of rain blowing in strong only to be gone within ten minutes. "I bet its in its last hurrah." Nathan isn't frustrated by being wet again, though does find it ironic. I'm actually grateful to feel a slight chill. This day was the tail end of the 104 degree heat wave; only a high of 92, but nevertheless 80 degree rain felt magnificent. The rain lightened up to a sprinkle. "See? Good old northeast patterns," says John. We begin our 4 mile return hike to Sloatsburg, following the red Pine Meadow trail (that I have become so familiar with) that will take us the entire way. And, of course the rain picks up again. Made me smile. "So much for your last hurrah, John."
We stopped at Pine Meadow Lake on a bit of a detour to check on an area John particularly enjoys. The rain by then let up again, proving that this was the actual end of the storm. In proper northeast fashion, this was the sky at the time, with enough of a change from left to right that it messed with the exposure on my cameras auto setting:
Pine Meadow lake. To the left, blue sky. To the right, gray misty haze and soaked boys. Straight ahead, a rock split that reminds me of front teeth (of which I forget its name). Worth viewing big.
From there we continue on, make it all the way the Sloatsburg without problem. The sun came out again, and at a point all the rocks around us in direct sunlight were steaming off the rain. Within minutes some areas appeared as though precipitation never happened.
Past the visitor's center (the third pass for me, thank you) the tree canopy was a bit thicker and thus the ground remained a little slick in places. I mainly took videos of the hike out, since I wanted to spare everyone the Blair Witch Project type of bounce-bounce-nauseating-shake-shake from running. At a point I caught Nathan on camera with a little slide/trip off a rock. He stayed on his feet, looked back at me since he could probably hear me snickering. A few seconds later I hit the same rock and, as I probably deserved, slip and fall. Caught myself with my hands, only injury a little bruise on the side of my knee. Well, and a little shot to my pride, assuming there was much of it left following a day of getting fooled by the orange trail. Anyways, my slip was also caught on film.
In Sloatsburg we had nearly 2 hours before the train, so went to the tavern for burgers.
John followed this face by saying "I haven't had beer in a while. That's really good!" I believe it was Yuengling.
We sat outside by request, especially because we preferred to not sit in the A/C for so long while still wet. Eyeing direct sun on the opposite side of the porch, we laid out shoe and socks to dry. Small town, Sloatsburg, so not many people entering/leaving the place. But the 4 groups who left during our time there were all baffled by it. "Shoes! Why are shoes there? And socks? Funny." Two people actually looked up and saw us over yonder on the porch and made the connection, though they still found it bizarre. These residents obviously were not the type to travel by foot either through town or through their local trails.
They sort of got dry. Sort of...
We left with ten minutes to spare before the train arrived, and since the platform was a mere 200 feet from the tavern we had time to stand in the sun and finish drying off our backsides since they were still a little wet.
Once home I remeasured my actual route. My loop of orange from trail head to visitor's center version 2.0 came to 7.11 miles in about an hour's time. Pretty good considering the elevation and terrain. All in all the day came to 17 miles by the string when including the mile stretch from train to trailhead each direction. Here's a summary of the day. As always, this version (posted via link) cuts off the edges. For the full, better experience follow the link to the actual YouTube video. I think the HD quality was automatically removed due to the file's size during upload, but it still turned out pretty well. I was also happy to find that my computer came with a video editing program (iMovie) and I didn't need to download some weird open source program. This was my first edit to any video, so enjoy. I hope to make more videos via editing in the future.
[Edit: Nathan unknowingly did as all males in my family do when a camera is around -- stick out his/their tongue in protest. Classy.]
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