Saturday, September 16, 2023
Miles: 27.91
Elevation gain/loss: 15,968′
Start/End: Roostercomb Trailhead, Keene Valley, NY
Total time: 18:13:44
I started out from the Roostercomb trailhead at 5:43am, climbing to the top of Rooster Comb in time for the cloudy sunrise. Then it was a very long ascent up to Lower Wolfjaw, going over Hedgehog on the way. The air was cool but somewhat humid, with a thick cloud cover for the first half of the day. I passed a handful of people who had started before me around the first ADK46 summit. I went up and over Upper Wolfjaw, Armstrong, and Gothics in quick succession. Rooster Comb to Armstrong was incredibly soggy, with thick mud pools everywhere and wet green slime growing on most rock slabs; it made for some challenging climbing and I did a good job ignoring how much worse it would be on the descent later. Some sections were very overgrown, and my right knee got sliced open twice by sharp sticks.
Descending Gothics was relatively smooth, with the majority of the open rock slab being dry and unslimy. The climb to the top of Saddleback was smooth, but the descent off the Cliffs was challenging. The 3 boulder problems towards the bottom gave me some trouble – I had to turn around and hang off each of them. On the middle one, I ended up hanging off the edge by my fingertips and being forced to drop blindly to my feet on very uneven terrain – that risk scared me. The descend down the rest of Saddleback was a lot of wet slimy open rock slab, but I managed relatively well. I sustained a few scraps and bruises but none bled much. I’d also been nursing my water along, after realizing that I’d brought too little given the effort of the elevation gain and the technicality slowing me down, and I finished my remaining water before I began climbing Basin.
Basin’s ascent was steep and technical as always, with a number of slick wet rock slabs with fall risk to contend with. The descent was more of the same. I was delighted to run into Katie Rhodes guiding clients up Basin as I descended; we said hi and talked for a few moments before going our separate ways. I eagerly descended towards Sno-Bird, the first water source on the GRT. I stopped for ~15 minutes, long enough to filter up 1.5L and drink another 0.5L before pushing on, climbing up towards the Haystack intersection.
At the intersection, I took the right to go towards Marcy rather than left to tag Haystack, since the Ultra Tour GRT creates a loop of Marcy, Skylight, and Haystack before going back the way I’d come. I connected over to Phelps trail and headed left towards Marcy. Once I popped out onto Van Ho trail, it was very busy all the way to the Marcy summit and down and over to Skylight. The sun had come out and the sky had cleared, and while the wind was whipping by at ~25-30 MPH (windchill around 30 degrees), many dozens of people were out hiking. It was strange to need my wind shirt/another layer because I was cold after so many brutally hot days; at least I never got cold enough for it to effect my hand dexterity (though I had gloves in my pack just in case). I quickly went over the Marcy summit and headed down to Four Corners. I tagged Skylight and then sat at Four Corners for ~15 minutes to filter 1.5L of water and pull snacks out from the back of my pack.
Then it was into the unknown for me, descending into Panther Gorge on the Elk Lake Marcy Trail. The trail was flooded, with running water over most of it. At the bottom of the gorge, I took Bartlett Ridge Trail up to South Haystack Trail to get up to the summit of Haystack. The climb was full of very steep slab and I had to be really careful to not slide and fall as I ascended. As usual, the top of Haystack was incredibly windy, even windier than Marcy, with gusts getting close to 40 MPH. I hurried as much as I could, starting to see long shadows in the lee of the mountains. I was glad to get back under treeline, away from the cold wind, and kept descending towards Sno-bird, yo-yoing back on the GRT again. I stopped at Sno-bird to filter up 1.5L and drink another 0.5L, knowing this would be my last water source until ~1-2 miles before the end. I didn’t want to take the time to stop in daylight, but knew I’d really need it later.
I expected the climb up Basin to be completely exhausting but I did pretty good, pushed onward by the strong desire to complete Saddleback Cliffs and Gothics in daylight. I cleared both of them relatively easily – it was much easier ascending the steep portions rather than descending, though the back sides of all 3 were steep, wet, and shadowed. Daylight finally died as I headed towards Armstrong, and I reluctantly pulled out my headlamp. I started out only using my headlamp on as low a setting as I could tolerate, because I knew my battery life was going to be an issue given how far I still had to go. I met two inexperienced teenage boys with huge packs near Armstrong summit and they were hoping to descend Gothics to a lean-to; they asked if it was safe and what I would recommend they do. I didn’t have much advice for them aside from ‘take it very slow and be careful,’ since they were already in a sub-optimal situation with few options.
The descent off Armstrong was quite sketchy in places, with all rock slab surfaces covered in water and/or green slime. My back, shoulders, triceps, and hips had all started to quit on me, spasming and cramping, and I had to be careful to anticipate when this would happen so I didn’t depend on their function in a crucial moment and have them fail. The climb to Upper Wolfjaw was tiring but okay, though my legs were starting to be more inaccurate in their placement from weariness and poor lighting. My headlamp died as I left the summit and I had to switch to my waistlamp, which isn’t great for technical descent. The descents off Upper and Lower Wolfjaw were super sketchy, and I found my mind providing vivid possibilities of me slipping on slab and falling unseeing into the darkness. I did my best to reel it back in and focus on problem solving in the moment. A few portions of descent were really rough on my skin and I ended up with more scratches and bruises on my arms.
After Lower Wolfjaw, it seemed like I should be back to the trailhead so soon, but it quickly became clear that wasn’t the case – there were ~4.5 miles and 3500′ descent still left, and my waistlamp battery was flickering. I put it on the lowest setting possible and just kept moving forward. I slowly drank the last of my water and tried to keep choking down calories. I finished my last audiobook and switched to music. My brain kept wandering and I had to constantly monitor it to stay focused; my eyes kept playing tricks on me, making me think I was seeing light, movement, or animals on the edges of my vision.
In the low dying light of my waistlamp and phone flashlight, I unknowingly picked the longer descent at the intersection with Rooster Comb spur trail, descending by Flume Brook Trail for 1.45 miles rather than by Rooster Comb Trail for 1.25 miles, adding on 0.2 miles and ’20 descent. Flume Brook meets back up with Rooster Comb Trail on both ends and the trails seamlessly merge together and I did not realize this difference until the next day, but as noted, it was slightly harder which only added time.
My waistlamp began giving me its ‘low battery, I’m about to turn off’ notice within 0.2mi of the end, which put a pep in my step to finish before it really and truly died. I’ve never been happier to see a bog board bridge than the moment when I stepped on the the three-board wide bridge over the marsh right before arriving at the parking lot. In my delirious joy and muscle failure, I very nearly fell off the 4′ high bridge but managed to correct course before I found out how deep the marsh was.
As to be expected with any of my Ben Nephew-inspired FKT routes (a la Swan Song), this was a brutal and beautiful course with endless challenges for anyone looking to test their mettle. I’d hoped for a faster time, but ironically, my time here this past winter let me forget how technical and exacting the Adirondacks truly are – snow smoothes out so many trails.
Transcending Mountains 