DT Active Life 050617 for web-REVISED

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oad trip 15 HOURS ON THE DEVIL’S PATH... THE TOUGHEST HIKE IN THE NORTHEAST Constant grade changes, boulders and steep rock slopes make this Ulster County trail a challenging weekend hike. But for some, nothing compares to compressing this 2-3 day trek into a one-day event. Story and Photos by Ethan Katz T he night was young and comfortably cool, but pervaded with a taste of the mugginess tomorrow would bring. We stood in silence; the sleepy sounds of the forest and the glow of fireflies lazily bobbing amongst the canopy the backdrop of this summer night. It was 9:00pm, and we had just arrived at the western terminus of the hike we would begin in seven hours. We discussed sleeping arrangements for the short night ahead of us as we unpacked gear and supplies from Jack’s car and stuffed it into mine for the drive to the eastern trailhead. Jack, a longtime hiking companion I’d known since high school, was one of the few people I could count on to be excited about the woods, and walking through them for untold hours. But this hike would prove to be different. The Devil’s Path is a rugged, 25- mile, point-to-point trail over six of 24 | DACKS & TOGA activelife the Catskill High Peaks and is notorious for its difficulty. Although not as tall as the Adirondack High Peaks, these summits still sit at a confident 3500 ft. or more, with the trail fiendishly following what appears to be the most difficult line over them. Still, this trail has quite the reputation preceding it. Legends tell that the first settlers to the area took one glance at this imposing ridgeline with its deep ravines and thought: only the cloven hooves of the Devil himself could traverse this landscape. Indeed, there are three 1000 ft. descents immediately followed by 1000 ft. climbs, with numerous rock scrambles that require hands for assistance. With a whopping 18,000 ft. of total elevation change, it’s the neverending ups and downs that beat your legs, and your mind, into submission, lending credence to the legend. Consequently, most hikers choose to backpack this route over two or three days, a challenging feat itself for most people. Only the crazed and sadistic attempt it in a single day. That is why, for this hike, we chose to put in a little forethought—a rare occurrence for the two of us, who pride ourselves with our good sense of spontaneity. This amounted to dropping a gallon of water in a reused milk jug at the halfway point, Devil’s Tombstone Campground in Stony Clove Notch. Despite the bonus points for thinking ahead, we would still be dreadfully thirsty approximately 19 hours later. Construction of the Path began in 1929, when the east section up to Mink Hollow was cut. The route up Plateau was established in 1934, and Hunter from Stony Clove Notch the following year. But it wasn’t until ’73 that the trail down to the falls and up over West Kill, the final summit of the range, was added. Over its 25-mile stretch, the Path has only one road crossing: NY 214 at Stony Clove Notch. This splits the trail into the classic eastern section, and the more recent western section, with the eastern half being considered more difficult. That was the half we chose to start with. At 10:30, we pulled into the eastern trailhead at the end of Prediger Road next to a weary wooden shack with unmistakable signage reading “NO SLEEPING IN CARS.” Unfortunately, we had a one-person tent between the two of us and absolutely no desire to find a suitable campsite this late, and by 11:45, we were ready to pass out. One of us ended up breaking that rule. I A beautiful spot to unload our gear and take a break for lunch. Left: An unknown hiker carved some words of encouragement onto a mushroom. slept erratically, finding it hard to contort my 6’2 frame in my Camry. Jack was in his tent immediately outside the car door. It was so still I could hear him moving around. And yet, somehow, unbeknownst to me, we had midnight visitors. The way we were positioned, every time a car drove through, its headlights would shine right at Jack’s tent. They would then immediately stop and ponder the situation for a couple excruciating moments before driving further. This apparently happened several times between 12:30 and 1:30am. The strangest thing: no one spoke. Not a peep. Jack could hear one person snapping photos of the trailhead but no one opened their mouths. It was a ghostly procession. What worried us more about the midnight visitors than the possibility of being busted for sleeping in the
parking lot was that all of those people started out on the trail hours before us. Did they know something we didn’t? After meager breakfasts we were raring to go, and set out into the night towards Indian Head, our first ascent. It was 4:00am, and accompanying us were barred owls hidden somewhere in the darkness. Enjoyable at first, they soon became off-putting as their hoots morphed into uncannily human-sounding laughs reverberating through the otherwise silent trees. I set the pace, as I would for much of the adventure, and it wasn’t long before we were climbing a steep grade, still at a brisk 3mph. As the first wisps of morning entered the horizon, I turned off my headlamp and looked at the sight before me. There, 30 feet ahead was a large boulder in the way. Surely this wasn’t right, right? Nothing but a taunting red blaze proved that it was indeed. Indian Head brought with it beautiful views. The fog from the previous night had gathered into a low, thick carpet stretched to the horizon, with the surrounding hills peeking through. It gave the impression of looking out an airplane window high above the clouds. We continued over and down into our first descent, already humidarmpitted and shirtless. Next on the docket was Twin, which afforded us a view westward over the rolling ridgeline, with Plateau demanding the most attention. A quick snack later and we were on the road again, descending the col toward Sugarloaf. On the summit of Sugarloaf, we snacked again, feeling optimistic. We had reached the top of the third of six Despite the bonus points for thinking ahead, we would still be dreadfully thirsty approximately 19 hours later. peaks in about three hours of hiking. Overall feeling good, I set a goal to be out in the next nine hours. However, in the extremely technical descent toward Plateau, we quickly realized that we wouldn’t be making good time for a while. With loose rocks and some stretches that were confusing to follow, we became worried that this would reflect the rest of the traverse. So, in Mink Hollow, we took a mental break before Plateau, opting to follow the extremely dubious, almost Loony Tunes-style sign that read, “SPRING,” with an arrow pointing down a hill. We were thirsty after all, Wile E. Coyote or no. The “spring” turned out to be more of a muddy, leafy, pool and shot down our hopes of filtering a little supplementary water. I knew my 2L bladder was running low, and would likely run out before our water drop at Devil’s Tombstone. Nearby, a kitchen knife had been jammed two inches deep into a tree trunk in an apparent fit of rage—such was the frustration of the Devil’s Path. Turning back up the hill towards Plateau, our pace had slowed, and a trail runner passed us easily. Plateau was the first time we felt the pressure. After climbing a fourth of the way, we were in a bad place. Halfway up, glistening with sweat and breathing shortly, we stopped for what seemed like our fifth break in 20 minutes. Jack realized we needed a little something, so we slurped down our first GU packets of the day. Immediately, Mandarin Orange hit my tongue like an explosion, and in eight minutes, I was feeling the benefits of the sugar boost and caffeine focus. With heightened determination, I watched as the pace on my TomTom Multisport Cardio shot downward, and we trudged up and up, a cloud of flies surrounding us, as if old Beelzebub himself was keeping tabs. Passing a large mushroom with the words, “ALMOST THERE” prophetically scrawled into the surface, we soon rounded the crest, and felt grateful for the two miles of flat land on the aptly named Plateau. By 10:05, I retrieved the water jug and we broke for lunch before the beautifully glassy Notch Lake at Devil’s Tombstone Campground. It’s about now that I should mention that our total time, though respectable for a hike of this caliber, and taking into account our complications, was nothing spectacular. All told, it took us 15 hours to hike the Devil’s Path, and, if given a second shot, I firmly believe we could knock off three. Still, this is pitiful compared to the blistering FKT (fastest known time) of 4:53:45, set by the insanely accomplished ultrarunner Ben Nephew, in November 2015. For comparison, it took us three hours to reach the summit of Sugarloaf; Nephew was already pulling into Devil’s Tombstone Campground, an entire mountain and a descent ahead of us. And where he took a 2-3 minute break to refill water, we stopped for 44 minutes of carbohydrate gluttony and allowed the cement in our legs to firmly DACKS & TOGA activelife | 25
Page 1: activelife TM FREE SPORTS • FITNE
Page 4 and 5: contents FEATURES 10 Cover Story: 5
Page 6 and 7: Our Contributors Drew Cappabianca o
Page 8 and 9: tech Off-Road, On-Road, Any Terrain
Page 10 and 11: FIVE WAYS TO It’s Spring and the
Page 12 and 13: 2 Join a Group Ride: The First Ride
Page 14 and 15: 4 Take the Scenic Route: By Eric J.
Page 16 and 17: Finding the Right Bike is just the
Page 18 and 19: health & wellness Surviving a Minor
Page 20 and 21: active life Profile Bill Parks Bill
Page 22 and 23: Bill working hard on a climb at a m
Page 26 and 27: set before starting again toward Hu
Page 28 and 29: Our writer finishing up a late wint
Page 30: calendar “If you really want to d

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