Shocking Discovery On The Taconic Crest Trail

We were about midway on our Taconic Crest Trail hike the day after Christmas. As we quietly plodded along the snow covered trail I could see Taconic and Berkshire mountains through the leafless trees. At this spot I could actually see Williamstown, Massachusetts down in the valley:

Some square beams had thoughtfully been placed across some boggy areas to keep hikers' feet dry and also, I'd assume, to prevent undue erosion. There was still liquid water even on December 26th!:

And green ferns could still be seen awaiting springtime beneath a scant layer of snow:

This part of the Taconic Mountains is notable for its abundance of white quartzite and it was abundant along this section of the trail. In fact, two of the closest peaks to the Snow Hole are named White Rock and White Rocks:

We hiked onward, admiring the silent beauty of the forest:

Fergus tends to run too far ahead and I have to call him back occasionally:

White quartzite and ice needles together in the snow:

And then we began an uphill climb toward one of the higher peaks:

I was suffering from a weakness in my legs caused by a bad side effect from a prescription drug (which I no longer take) and was slowing down considerably. Daphne and Clover ran back to see what was taking me so long:

As I neared the summit I was horrified to see almost all the trees cut down and strewn around the ground:

A few trees were left, almost as if someone intended to turn this into a park with grassy areas and a few scattered trees. But the remaining trees were not, I didn't think, left as seed trees because they didn't seem to me to be appropriate choices:

And the trunks were left strewn on the ground with the branches. Nothing had been taken for either pulp or for lumber. Very strange indeed. I'll post more about our hike tomorrow:

Beginning A Hike On The Taconic Crest Trail

I'd attempted to hike the Taconic Crest Trail (AKA the Snow Hole Trail) on Christmas day but arrived at the parking area only to discover that I'd dressed quite imprudently for the high altitude weather and had forgotten my camera. So I returned the very next day, better prepared, and happily discovered a warmer day. I drove east on Route 2 through Rensselaer County until I passed through the tiny town of Petersburgh, New York. I could see the Taconic Crest straight ahead of me. That's where I'd be hiking, from right to left as it shows in this photo. You can see Route 2 winding its way up and over the mountains on the right hand side just below some telephone wires:

I parked in the parking lot at Petersburgh Pass, the highest point on Route 2, just a stone's throw from the Massachusetts border and pretty close to Vermont also. There once was a ski resort here, but now it's just a parking lot for hikers and outdoor enthusiasts. There were many people using the old ski slopes for sledding on that day. They sure were having fun:

From where I parked I could see Mount Greylock, the highest mountain in Massachusetts. You can see the War Memorial Tower at its peak if you click the photo to enlarge:

The dogs and I crossed the highway (there's very little traffic) and climbed up that steep slope to begin our hike:

The first several hundred feet are rather steep, but it's actually a rather easy hike after that. The dogs were all excited and running in circles:

When we reached the top I looked back at the people sledding on the other side. I could hear the children's laughter clear across the valley:

I signed the trail register and began the hike. All the sounds became muffled and a sense of serenity and peace  enveloped us as we entered the forest. Even the dogs seemed to sense it:

With all the leaves off the trees I could see mountains in every direction. Notice Fergus' ears flopping as he joyously romps along the trail:

Everything was snow covered but neither slippery nor deep. It was just right - except, that is, for the howling winds:

On and on we hiked through Hopkins Memorial Forest, now owned by Williams College in Williamstown, Massachusetts:

The trees are never very tall or old looking and I suspect that is a result of their rugged, mountaintop environment. But the forest is stunning nonetheless:

There were so many trail markers as to be almost silly. At times they seemed almost to be defacing the forest because there were so many of them. But I figured that too many was better than too few, especially for wintertime hikers. But we were just getting started. I'll post more tomorrow:

Mount Everett, Part 3

If you've read the previous posts, you know that Mount Everett is on the Appalachian Trail in western Massachusetts. I hiked up it with three of my dogs - Seamus, Fergus and Daphne. We reached the summit and found lots of rock and lots of very stunted, shrub-like trees:

I remembered the summit from my previous hikes (a decade or so ago) as being grassier, more open and most importantly of all, having a fire tower! But this time I saw no grass, I saw no fire tower:

And then I saw the four concrete piers upon which the four main beams of the fire tower had previously been anchored. It had been removed, perhaps for safety reasons, perhaps to make the summit more "natural." Well, it may be more natural, but one couldn't see much at all from the summit over those shrubby trees:

Our two young Appalachian hiker friends passed through about then and we found a note attached to one of the piers. It'd been left there as a friendly "hello" by a previous through-hiker about two weeks earlier. The note had been left in a plastic bag. I read it, felt connected and returned it to greet the next passerby:

The two young hikers continued on their way as they had a rather distant campsite as their day's goal. But I enjoyed the summit for awhile. I set the camera up and snapped my own photo just as Seamus and Fergus got in the way. I just tell people that Daphne took the picture:

Seamus rested while Daphne played and hunted for insects:

And then we headed back down the trail:

The trail was narrow and very rocky, and the dogs were much better at rock-hopping than I was:

The tree cover increased, though they were still mighty short as trees go:

And we stopped once again at the rocky shoulder with the spectacular views:

In this photo, Fergus must have been doing his "Keep On Trucking" impersonation. Daphne looks a little bit weaselly, if you ask me. I doubt that she was feeling fatigued:

In fact, while Seamus and I rested, the two youngsters explored the scrub pines which populated that rocky promontory:

Seamus looked regal:

And Daphne was just plain cute as she bounced up and down hunting bugs:

Fergus seldom holds still, but prefers to keep moving and exploring:

And to wind up this post, a video taken while hiking down the mountain. Notice the drop off into the valley below on the right of the screen towards the beginning. Mostly, though, I just wanted a video of a wild Azalea:

The Taconic Crest Trail - Part 3

We were well on our way along the Taconic Crest Trail on the border of New York and Massachusetts as I hiked with Fergus, Seamus and Daphne. We'd done a lot of deep woods hiking and seen plenty of spring flowers on the forest floor, but now we'd emerged into a high clearing where spectacular views of the valley below were spread out before us. This view is looking southeast and that curving road you see on the left is New York Route 2, the road on which we arrived. The parking area is just about where it curves around that mountain hump. That's American Shad, or Shadblow, blooming on the mountainside:

Little Daphne, with her muddy legs, was having a grand time and all excited. But she agreed to hold still for just a moment so that I could photograph her sitting beside some blooming lowbush blueberries:

The air was still and quiet, with not even the usual high peaks winds rushing by. Vultures soared soundlessly in the high spaces between mountains:

More Shadblow blooming on the hillside as I viewed the Taconic Mountains towards the southwest:

This has become one of my favorite photos as it shows all three dogs climbing the mountain up into the sky:

More scenic views, more blooming Shadblow, more Taconic Mountains, more peace and quiet:

The valley below is where I used to live and where New York Route 22 traverses in its long span from north to south. Standing up here all alone with my happy dogs with no other people anywhere was a bit like soaring:

Directly below our mountain where New York Route 2 runs east and west between Massachusetts and New York:

Fergus, Daphne and Seamus took a rest with the high altitude miniaturized trees behind them:

And I discovered some Red Trillium plants in bloom:

When we arrived at the Snow Hole, our destination, I was shocked to see a large group of hikers from Williams College in Williamstown, Massachusetts. We'd been totally alone on our mountain trek until then. They were resting and cooking lunch. You may notice Daphne getting chummy with the woman in the white tank top. But her main love affair was the man in black to the left. She was all over him like white on rice:

That's the snow hole on the right and the woman with the black tank top was cooking right on its edge. I warned her to watch carefully lest my goofy dogs topple the propane cookers down into the grotto. Then another couple arrived with a Miniature Poodle who looked much like Fergus. My two Poodles went bananas with excitement and ran over to see her but her owners picked her up quickly, not sure if they were friendly or not. It was just a matter of moments before all the dogs were playing together happily (the Williams College students had a dog also):

You may be wondering what happened to little Daphne in this photo taken down inside the Snow Hole. Well, she glommed onto that young guy resting near the entrance to the Snow Hole and was licking his face like shameless hussy. So I left her to her infatuation and descended down into the grotto with Fergus and Seamus:

There was indeed snow down inside, though less than I'd expected for early May. On the other hand, I suddenly broke through the crust and one leg dropped down several feet through the snow, so it was deeper than it at first appeared. Also, the temperatures above the Snow Hole were in the mid 80s, so the contrast was striking:

And I'll end with a short video clip taken at a scenic overlook just before we reached the Snow Hole: