New York (July 5-8)

July 5.

I woke in a bed that was so comfortable in this hostel (Lost and Found in Greenwood Lakes NY), that later I texted the hostel owners to ask them what kind of mattresses they had put on their bunks here.  It was an adjective-heavy product: a grandrest deluxe comfort adult gel memory foam mattress.  I added the mattress to my list of things to look into post-AT.  The hostel owners had put a lot of thought into the details at this hostel, from comfortable mattresses to large fruit platters artfully arranged for the breakfast table.

After breakfast, I continued hiking the NY section of the AT.  The trail was humid and misty up in the treetops.  Gnats soon buzzed around my face.  

The hiking was tough.  The trail climbed up and down small dips or inclines within the mountain, often up to rocky outcroppings that required climbing, then back down again and then up right away to the next one.  I was dripping sweat from the humidity, and often wore my sunglasses to keep the gnats away.  Mosquitoes and flies were frequent annoyances as well.  I think of New York as the toughest state along the Appalachian Trail, especially for traditional northbound hikers.  Aside from the frequent ups and down route of the path, bugs and humidity are often peaking for traditional noboers in this state.  

I hiked down a steep part of the trail named “Agony Grind” to a highway crossing, the AT leading across four lanes of traffic on NY 17.  It was harrowing, as two of the lanes came from around a tight bend.  I crossed part way, stood on the yellow line and waited as two cars came racing towards me and passed, then crossed the rest of the way.  The trail was relocated from another highway crossing in New York called the Palisades Parkway in recent years.  I hope the trail is relocated away from this NY 17 in years to come.

I continued on towards Harriman State Park and caught up to a hiker resting in the shade by a creek.  It was nice to see another hiker on this humid day of struggle.  He said he’d taken off his loose shorts and was just wearing spandex now because the loose shorts were so wet with sweat that they had slapped at his legs with every step!  Yuck.  It was the kind of day where the cork on my trekking pole handles felt wet because it was sweating, and even the rocks themselves glistened wet with moisture on the trail.

We hiked through Harriman State Park, a pretty park with wide paths and flowing green grass.  Small breezes broke up the still air, coming off of a nearby lake.

The trail crossed a road that led down to Lake Toriarti.  Though it was nearly a mile walk to get there, I decided to hike down for a vending machine soda.  It felt worth it.  Soon I sat on a bench looking out at a beach full of people swimming, the breeze drying my sweat as I drank a cold Powerade and ate a few snacks.  I hadn’t eaten much all day because of a lack of appetite in the heat.

Back on trail, the final miles of the day were slow going at the end of a long humid day.  A thunderstorm neared and reinvigorated me.  I hiked faster and made it under the roof of the William Brien shelter right before rain started pouring down. 

It was refreshing to watch the heavy downpour hit and form puddles in front of the shelter.  Rain ran down the unique rock at the back of the shelter- this shelter was built into a rock.  It was loud and also peaceful.  I hoped it would help to cool things down.  

After eating and watching the rain subside, all the hikers there set about putting up their tents.  I set my tent up by the fire ring, near the front of the shelter.  I had recently read about a man flicking a rattlesnake away from his friend in a shelter (!), and a raccoon pestering at this shelter, and was resolved not to sleep in it.  It felt really good to have made it there before the rain, and then to set up my tent in a lull between rains.

July 6.

The excitement continued.  I heard a thunderstorm approaching around 0450.  At first I was resigned to waiting it out inside my tent, then decided to quickly move everything under the shelter roof to pack up before the storm hit.  It really cuts down on weight, to hike with a tent that is not wet.

My plan worked beautifully at first.  I unhurriedly broke down my tent under the shelter roof and looked out at the rain drops falling silver in the beam of my headlight.  Suddenly the beam of light caught the reflection of two small eyes running towards me, as if about to run into the shelter.  They stopped in the grass by a log and peered ahead at me.  I could see it was a raccoon.

I had read comments about a raccoon at this shelter, but still felt unnerved.  It was mostly dark in the predawn hour.  I watched the raccoon sift through the grass, then look over at me every couple of minutes.  I felt I wanted to keep an eye on it at all times.

Was it normal behavior to be so habituated to humans?  Everyone else was still blissfully unaware, asleep in their hammocks or tents.  I had hoped to eat breakfast under the cover of the shelter, but couldn’t relax with the raccoon waiting to approach.  It was time to get out of there.  I packed up and headed out into the rain, up the stone steps behind the shelter.

I had thought the rain was coming to an end, but instead the thunder renewed its booms and the rain intensified.  I hiked through heavy rain and thunder for the next hour, often passing by rocky outcroppings which would offer great views of NYC on a clear day.

Eventually the rain subsided and mist hung in patches over the mountains.  I started to hike off the trail towards a shelter (West Mountain) that was said to offer a great view of NYC, but changed my mind when a hiker walked towards me, describing a night she had spent there, sitting up often to yell at a raccoon that was trying to climb inside.  I was glad that my raccoon experience hadn’t been such a close one, if only because I had hiked away.

I continued on, up and over Bear Mountain, stopping by one of the pretty benches there.  The benches around Bear Mountain looked like they were made up of twisted driftwood, and had a very natural, flowing style.  

A hiker walked up and squatted for a moment to sit on the bench before standing up and continuing to hike.  He laughed as he passed and told me that he never passes up a good bench, as a rule.

I hiked down to Hessian Lake and the picnic area at the base of Bear Mountain, crowded with hundreds of picnickers.  It was once again humid enough that I was dripping sweat, and remarkable to see the number of day hikers struggling up the mountain as I descended.

I hiked by masses of people in the park, and through the Bear Mountain Zoo, stopping by the bear pen to watch a bear restlessly pacing in the heat.  I crossed the Bear Mountain Bridge over the Hudson River and climbed up Anthony’s Nose Mountain.  It was a very steep climb without switchbacks, which took me by surprise, given the trail’s popularity as a day hike there.  I struggled and sweated.

The gnats became a bother again.  Some runners passed me half- naked but with head nets on.

The trail became overgrown with heavy grass that could easily conceal a snake.  The miles to my next highlight, the Appalachian Market, were tough.  Gnats, sweat, and thick grass to wade through.

The Appalachian Market was a sight for sore eyes.  Between a busy road and the parking lot, three picnic tables offered a small patch of shade on their ends, from their umbrellas.  Two hikers sat in two patches of shade, and I headed to the final table and shade patch.  Traffic rushed by as we ate our snacks in silence, just grateful for the shade and a seat.  I bought a milkshake, then went inside to buy another.  It really hit the spot.

It was so hot and buggy.  I cut the day and the discomfort short and hiked less than a mile more to the Graymoor Spiritual Life Center, which allows hikers to camp on their baseball field with water spigot and port a potty nearby.  Many other hikers around me seemed to do the same, hiking fewer miles in the intense heat.

July 7.

Unfortunately, the gnats were flying around even early this morning.  I hiked a few miles to a water jug someone was maintaining at a road crossing, and asked a neighbor woman walking by, when the bugs get better.  She took her bug net off to answer.  I forgot what she said.

I hiked further, continuing up and down numerous dips and bumps.  I hiked out into an open space designated an AT camp site, breathing a sigh of relief that I might get space from the gnats, then breathing another sigh of relief to see a table set up with trail magic there.  I hiked up with my bug net on over my hat, all sweaty.

The trail angel was offering peanut butter sandwiches and cool drinks from a cooler.  He was quiet and nice.  I really appreciated that he offered hikers another drink when they finished their first.  It was only morning, but I was quite thirsty after sweating buckets.

It was a true revival to sit in a camp chair, eat and drink two ice cold Gatorades.  We laughed about a few things.  The trail angel was offering Mountain Lightning brand sodas and asked a hiker if that was okay, and the hiker said tiredly, “Anything with lightning in it sounds good to me.”  I told the trail angel that I was revived when I said thank you and goodbye, and he said, “Well good, this is a revival meeting.”  It truly felt like a physical revival space on that humid morning.

I hiked the next five miles to Canopus Lake.  It was more of the same- hot, sweaty hiking.  Dripping sweat and legs sore on climbs, either from tougher terrain or from not eating enough or both.  I could hear happy swimmers in the lake as I approached.

After a burger at the snack stand there and commiserating with the other hikers, the second half of the day was better.  The final 5 miles to the RPH shelter were easier hiking without the thick grass that had abounded, trailside.  The gnats and humidity seemed to improve as well.  The shelter had a mowed grass yard and a reclining lawn chair to rest in.  It was a peaceful place to end a day.

July 8.

I got started early this morning, to try to beat the heat.  A familiar hiker, Trashman, came hiking towards me.  I asked, “Are you slackpacking today?”  He said, “Oh no.”  He had started hiking earlier than me, but then got turned around, as we all do.

We started hiking together, chatting for the first few miles until we reached a road to hike down to a deli.  

After a good breakfast of deli sandwiches, we started hiking again.  The humidity was not quite as bad on this day, and the hiking was easier than it had been, though still with some random climbs up rocky bumps throughout the day.  We continued to drip sweat.  Clouds of heat enveloped us on unshaded mountain tops or rocky outcroppings. 

We crossed over a bike path, and a biker asked if we were hiking the AT, and if he could take our photo.  We laughed because this was the third time we had been asked by strangers if they could take our photo.  I guessed that we fit the image of long distance backpackers out in our natural habitat. 

We were both looking forward to taking showers at a hiker friendly plant nursery ahead, which offered showers to hikers.  We hiked to Nuclear Lake and took a snack break there, unrushed until we read on our phones that the showers and nursery would close by 3pm.  That was really disappointing, as we probably wouldn’t make it there in time.  We decided to hike forward and hope for the best.

We hiked as quickly as we could by the Dover Oak, over a boardwalk, across the Pawling train platform and into the nursery.  They were closed.  We filled up our water bottles from their outdoor hose and sat in the shade for a while.  

In the end, we still benefited from reaching the road that led to Pawling.  We hiked down the road to a deli, and ordered dinner there.  

The deli owner seemed to get a kick out of hikers, and even recommended sandwiches to us.  He also allowed hikers to camp along the edges of his property.  One hiker came over to us to chat, mostly talking with Trashman.  Tony the deli owner came out later and handed Trashman an extra wrap that he had made.  He asked us if that other hiker needed anything, if he was hungry or something, “because I can make him a sandwich”.  It was refreshing to meet Tony- he seemed enthusiastic about hikers, hopefully indicative that the hikers have been good, respectful customers.

We hiked a bit further into the evening, away from the train and traffic noise in that valley.  Though it had been another hot day, I was glad that we had been able to break up the hiking with deli stops and other nice breaks.

The next day we would hike into Connecticut.  My time hiking in New York was particularly humid and buggy, but it was also a state of delis and other attractions, where a hiker could pause to revive.