Maps and Legends - REM
11MAY23
“At dawn, when you have trouble getting out of bed, tell yourself: I have to go to work—as a human being. What do I have to complain of, if I’m going to do what I was born for—the things I was brought into the world to do? Or is this what I was created for? To huddle under the blankets and stay warm?”
-Marcus Aurelius
I can’t say why, exactly. I don’t remember why. But it’s been almost an entire Gregorian Calendar year since I’ve gone hiking. Did life get in the way? Did I just get lazy?
Hiking these Catskills peaks requires a commitment. The trailheads are about a 90-minute drive for me. I can’t just go climb a local peak and be home and showered for dinner. This requires the full consent of body, mind, and soul.
Sometime over the winter, I decided to attack this challenge. I bought a tent, sleeping bag and all the gear that goes with it. Made reservations at a few different Catskills campsites to serve as basecamp and started mapping out my plan. There were several peaks I could attack in pairs or triplets during my stays. Planning is part of the fun for me. I scrutinized websites and guides. I looked at the combinations upside down and sideways. I put them in a bag and gave it a good shake. Many peaks seemed doable as day hikes. Most reports agreed that Windham High Peak was a relatively easy peak. So that’s where I started.
Keeping old Marcus Aurelius’ admonition about getting up early in mind helped get me going and moving with purpose. Soon, I would find myself huddled under thick branches of leaves and the endless sky. Maybe it’s not exactly what I was born to do, but it feels right being out on the trail and moving. Although it’s entirely possible to get up, get to the trailhead, bag the peak, then rush home, I’d much rather take my time. I meander. I look and listen. (This may look to others like I’m stopping to catch my breath. That’s exactly half true). The thing about the mountains is they force you to pay attention. Keeping an eye out for rocks in the trail. Navigating from point to point. The deafening roar of a saturated creek. It’s good practice. Mindfulness comes easily on the trail. Once I’m out and moving, my earthly cares slip away, and I am immersed in the moment. Let’s not fool ourselves here, though. Mindfulness leaves as quickly as it comes. Old habits return. I constantly check the ETA to my next point. I complain silently about the pain in my feet, my exhaustion. That’s where the hard work comes in. Stop delaying and just walk, I say. Once I’m sure I’m going the right way, I resolve to be mindful and present and just walk and look. I examine my footsteps. I chant and sing. I pray. It’s good practice. I can take it out of the woods and bring it with me.
The weather was perfect. Mostly sunny and warm, but not too hot. As I started up the peak, I felt good. Now connected to this challenge of climbing all 33 high peaks in the Catskills (plus 4 again in the winter) I set out with big hope and purpose. No matter how much I prepared with maps and terrain, there were always unexpected surprises on these hikes. Today was no different.
The dense and lush fir stand shortly into the hike awed me. I’m sure I read out it in one of the excellent guides online. To see it up close and to travel through it was mesmerizing. I thought of the dioramas at the Museum of Natural History in NYC. My mom used to take me there often when I was a kid. I’d stare at the models of upstate woods in wonder, my imagination ratcheted to its limits. Smiling, I realized I’m standing in the real thing right now. Pine smells rained down to my nostrils as I passed through.
Many hikers were on the trails. The climb to the summit wasn’t difficult. Behind me stood the Blackhead Range. I’ll visit them later that summer. It seemed abstract, the idea of me climbing those peaks. Mountains possess great grandeur and power when viewed from afar. I stood there, dreaming of what climbing them would be like. Another hiker came down to the viewpoint, and we started chatting. An experienced peakbagger, he shared some wisdom and experience. We talked gear for a bit (this is a serious conversation piece when peakbaggers meet in the wild. It’s better than reading gear reviews on a computer screen). We took each other’s pictures so we could strike a majestic pose and went on our way.
There’s a summit marker on Windham. Its metal, and patinated green like the statue of liberty. In 1942, the US Coast and Geodetic Survey (today known as the National Geodetic Survey) placed this summit marker.
It’s the government department that standardizes and maintains latitude, longitude, altitude, etc. measurements and “Windham” is imprinted on it. There is a triangle in the center and text around the edge denoting that this is a triangulation station. Those are used to measure elevation and distance when compared to other nearby stations. Not every peak has markers, so it’s a pleasant surprise when I spot one. Today, GPS accuracy eliminates the need for markers. But I’m glad they’re still there. It’s as much of the history of the mountain as the winds and the rain that have eroded the rock. Few others will ever see these markers. Satisfied, I spend a few moments considering the marker; reading the text and admiring the symbols. Then I move on.
References:
https://geodesy.noaa.gov/datasheets/ngs_map/
https://www.catskillhiker.com/Catskill35/peaks/windham.shtml