My Misadventure on an Adirondack Peak
Crunch, crunch, crunch. My new white Converses crush the bright orange and dark green leaves and sticks beneath my feet. We are 10 minutes into our journey and, honestly, I am ready to turn around.
It’s a bright autumn morning, or afternoon by the time my friends and I are ready to leave the house before our hike. We stop for a Dunkin Donuts coffee to get a quick caffeine fix before heading to Poke-O-Moonshine Mountain near Willsboro, New York.
We are all from Long Island—my two friends and I have never experienced hiking a trail before. The closest thing to a mountain near my home is my neighbors’ hill in their backyard, and that’s barely steep enough to ride a sled down in the winter. Since I have lived in Plattsburgh for four years, I decided it’s time to go on a hike. So we looked up the closest hiking trails and decided Mount Poke-O-Moonshine had the best name and off we went.
We start marching the trail with high hopes, one bottle of water and a speaker blasting 2010 party hits. I decided thin leggings, a light sweatshirt and my new Converse were the perfect attire for this adventure. My friends dressed similarly.
Mount Poke-O-Moonshine has two trails. The Observers trail is a 4.8-mile round-trip hike that ascends 1,392-feet from trailhead to summit. This was once a trail used by fire observers and is the original route up the peak. The other trail is the Rangers Trail, a 3.5-mile hike that ascends 1,280 feet. This is the most popular trail but is the shortest and the steepest. We obviously took the steeper trail.
At the top of the trail stands a fire tower with a 360-degree view of the High Peaks and Lake Champlain. On clear days, you will notice the Champlain Valley and the Green Mountains of Vermont. Along with trails, visitors come to Poke-O for snowshoeing, ice-climbing and rock- climbing.
Quickly, my legs are starting to feel tired. We soon realize that our perception of a hike and an actual hike are extremely different. In my head, I envisioned a dirt path with a slight incline and maybe the occasional stick you have to step over. Early on, you could tell us we were climbing Mount Everest and we would’ve believed you.
Eventually, we see our first fellow hikers. The two older women stop, look us up and down and say, “First time?” We laugh and nod our heads.
“Well, you’re much closer to the bottom than the top,” one of the women says.
They laugh and continue on. As they walk away I examine their outfits, or should I say gear. They have hiking boots, windproof pants and jackets, backpacks filled to the brim and hiking sticks grasped firmly in each hand. I peek down at my scuffed Converse and think, This is not going to get better, is it?
The nature around me is beautiful despite my internal regret of going on this hike. Fall must be the perfect time of year for this activity. Today it is warm with a cool breeze and little to no bugs flying around us. The trees seem taller than skyscrapers and decrease in size as we continue climbing up. The ground is covered with fallen leaves that are beginning to turn dark brown and crumbly.
At this point, as a group, we need a break. We sit on a rock and discuss if this adventure is really worth it. We now know we are unprepared and should have gear that we didn’t even know existed. After debriefing our unpreparedness, we decide that we will make it to the top. We turn the speaker up a few notches and continue hiking with TLC’s “No Scrubs” playing in the background.
I am in the back of the line behind my friends when I hear a group behind me. A family of six is trailing behind us, eager to pass. We pull over to let them go and watch three kids under the age of 10 running up the mountain laughing and smiling, their parents and what look like their grandparents following behind at a similar rate. This is when I start to feel discouraged. A five-year-old is having the time of his life and I am out of breath from hiking what must have been less than a mile.
After about 20 more minutes of hiking, we reach a platform with a view of the mountains. Our small group jumps up and down screaming, “We did it, we made it!” We take a few pictures to send to our parents and get ready to start our journey down.
Feeling like professional hikers, we start walking with our heads held high and our posture upright. This is the best I’ve felt in the past hour. We pass a couple and tell them, “Almost there it’s a beautiful view,” like we have done this hundreds of times. The pair gives us a confusing look and say, “Yup, just another mile or so.”
Embarrassingly, we have not reached the top, just the first overlook.
Feeling like the true tourists we are, we spend another 10 minutes debating if this hiking thing is really for us, then decide that if we have already gone this far, we have to make it to the top. We continue on..
The hike, as much as I am complaining, is worth the adventure. Going in the early fall allows us to see bright colored leaves before they fall off the trees. The plants in the woods are still green, waiting to be covered in snow. The temperature is a little chilly but perfect for hiking.
By the time our entire water bottle is gone, we reach the summit. We sit on the rocks and look at the view while taking pictures of us actually reaching the top. All around us, the trees decorated with bright leaves go on for what appear to be miles. A river to our left creates a path between the trees and mountains in front of us, and a road down below, to our right, does the same. The air feels thinner and sharp, but that could be because I am still out of breath from what I would consider to be rock climbing.
We soon decide it is time to start our journey back down the mountain. Down has to be so much easier than going up, I think to myself. In about five minutes, I realize this was not the case.
Walking down makes me realize why every other person on this trail wears those clunky hiking boots and uses climbing sticks. Sliding on mud and tripping over branches, we hold on tight to any stable branch or rock we see.
Finally, we reach the bottom. I have never been so excited to walk on flat land. I feel a sense of accomplishment. With multiple sighs of relief, we return to the car and head straight to our favorite Mexican restaurant in Plattsburgh to reward ourselves with mango margaritas and shrimp tacos.
Story by Abigail Passafiume