The Random Cairn

Sunday was spent suffering on the eastern side of the 4th Brother in the sleepy John's Brook Valley of Adirondack State Park. My friend, Elizabeth, and my trusty pooch, Mabel, joined me for the day in an attempt to find the elusive Courthouse Cliff. I warned Elizabeth that there was no guarantee that we'd find said crag, or even find the climber's path leading off of the Phelps Trail for that matter, but it didn't seem to bother her in the least.

Before we began, we stopped off at the Mountaineer to buy Mabel some tasty Zuke's treat (shameless plug), and to get some "encouragement" from the local shop employees. The only words of encouragement we received were to make sure we were wearing pants because the stinging nettles were unforgiving, and because the amount of moisture and bushwhacking was going to drive us mad. Thanks guys...

The bushwhack lasted roughly 2 hours, of which the majority was spent either slogging straight up hill following the random cairn, or slipping up wet, mossy slabs. For comparison's sake, though, the first third of the hike is along the Phelps Trail, a meandering yellow blazed trail cut lazily along the forgiving contours of Mt. Marcy's broad skirt.

We thought we'd found the cliff, but ended up just cliffing ourselves, so we reversed our path thinking a much broader loop around the front of the slabs would spell certain success, but all we received was more thick underbrush up our pantlegs, and uneven ground to fall all over.

On our way out, though, we spotted several interesting things. Off in the distance a skunk's tail (at least that is what was postulated) was seen (Luckily, not by Mabel!), as were some large unidentifiable birds, countless piles of scat of varying size and shape, some bulbous fungus,

and a branch shaped like the letter "J".



And moments after I threw in my cards and gave up for the third time, I looked over my left shoulder and spotted the cliff through the trees. The damn thing seemed to be laughing at me from what seemed like less than a 1/2 mile away. The path from there, at least, seemed pretty obvious. Next time...



The weather also took some pity on us. The warm sunlight tickled us from time to time with its reticent tendrils, and we even managed to squeeze in a surprise (read: Dry) rock route at the Jewels and Gems Wall on our way out of Keene Valley.


I figure a day spent hiking around the woods, never finding what you've embarked to find, suffering and cursing through trivial landscapes and around uncertain corners is certainly not a day wasted. In fact, those are the days most often remembered.