Local trips a silver lining
A younger, more naïve version of me stood in a snow squall on New Hampshire’s North Twin Mountain. It was October of 2019 and I was wrapping up five days of camping near the Pemigewasset River in the White Mountains.
That young, naïve version of me looked ahead to 2020. That guy had just five New Hampshire peaks left to finish the White Mountains 48 – those mountains of more than 4,000 feet. He had just one Vermont peak to finish all the 4,000-foot peaks in that state. Over the next summer, he had planned to start climbing more of the Adirondack High Peaks with his daughter. Then, he would take another trip back to New Hampshire to finish the 48.
2020 was going to be the year of high peaks. Then it wasn’t.
In the spring, the Appalachian Mountain Club announced it wouldn’t count climbs made during the pandemic toward finishing the White Mountains 48. Vermont asked travelers to the Green Mountain State to quarantine. Sad trombone.
Of course, not finishing my hiking lists doesn’t even register as a real problem this year. Not when so many other people are dealing with financial hardship, illness, loneliness and depression. Not finishing a hiking list is complaining about a pebble in your shoe around people who are shoeless.
Besides, we have our own Adirondack and Catskill high peaks in New York. They are as beautiful as anything in Vermont or New Hampshire. If I had to “confine” myself to one state, I could do worse than New York.
If there has been a silver lining in the big, gray cloud of 2020, it’s that more people are
doing things outside. Bike shops could hardly keep bikes in stock. Trailheads have been packed with cars and trails have been packed with hikers. The silver lining isn’t nearly as big as the giant, stinking cloud but we should take any wins we can get.
The Adirondack High Peaks were the poster child of packed parking lots and trails. You’ve likely read about parking problems and overworked rangers searching for and rescuing some of the plentiful lost new hikers.
I had two choices this year: hike in the High Peaks and complain about all the people, or give the High Peaks a rest. I elected to give the peaks a rest. For the first time in more than 20 years, I didn’t step foot in the High Peak Wilderness.
Staying out of the High Peaks wasn’t like cutting carbs out of my diet or giving up ice cream (neither of which is going to happen.) There are so many other amazing
places to go and things to do that I didn’t miss them. Bikepacking trips with my family, mountain biking with my friends in the Moose River Plains, rode the TOBIE trail near Old Forge and hiked the last of my daughter’s fire tower peaks.
Sure, I sometimes hover over a Facebook photo a friend posts from Mount Marcy or someplace in the Dix Range. But mostly, I’ve made my memories in the High Peaks and I can let them rest for a while. Those trails don’t need another pair of boots on them and the parking lots don’t need another car. Especially this year.
Many of my friends are still hitting the High Peaks and it’s a fine choice. In fact, it’s better than fine because they’re often hiking with newer hikers who can glean the things the more experienced hikers have learned from years of hard-earned experience. I know those new hikers likely won’t need searching or rescuing.
There are horizontal groups and there are vertical groups. Like many new hikers, I began in a
horizontal group — hiking with people who were just about as inexperienced as I was. Through time and through groups like the Adirondack Mountain Club, I found trips that were vertical, where more experienced hikers shared tips, techniques and information with newbies.
One of those more experienced hikers gave me advice that I hadn’t considered until this year. The High Peaks should be a gateway, they said. You should do them and then maybe help other people do them. But they should teach you how much else there is out there, how many other wilderness areas and wild forests there are in the Adirondacks. Places where you haven’t even made a boot track.
I’ll go back to the High Peaks someday. Maybe in 2021, maybe later. I’ll bring fresh eyes to them because they ’ll be new to me again. I’m sure they ’ll welcome me back like an old friend. Until then, I’ll leave them for others who need them more than I do.