Un P'tit du Piseco

 

 

On the way home from our bike trip, Gail and I stopped to visit with Ann and Chips for a few days in Piseco.  I stopped in for lunch on my way to the High Peaks when Kristi, Geoff and the boys were visiting from California, but since Gail was in her final week at her job, she wasn't able to get there.  It was good to really catch up.  We helped Ann with a challenging jigsaw puzzle, and assisted Chips as he put away a few things before they head back to California for the winter.  We were especially relieved to hear that though we came home with COVID, we didn't pass it along to them.

 

We managed to do a nice hike on the Northville-Placid Trail that passes through Piseco.  We walked from their house to the Hamilton Lake Stream Lean-to and back.  This was pretty much the exact path of a tornado earlier in the summer so there was lots of scrambling over, under, and around blowdowns.  The lean-to dates back to the early 70's and is still in fine shape.

Un P'tit Bike Trip

 

Gail and I hadn't taken a bike trip in several years, and at least one of us was anxious to get back to it.  Even with a fancy, new bike, I wasn't too enthused about spending a few days on roads with distracted drivers, broken glass and chunks of sharp metal.  Gail suggested Le P'tit Train du Nord through the Laurentian Mountains in Quebec.  We planned a trip for the summer of 2023 that combined the rail trail with a few days of road riding, but wildfires put us off from that idea.  This year we got there and scaled the plan down to only riding the trail; roughly 200 km.
 

 

No camping gear to carry, essentially no hills, only about 3-4 hours of riding a day?  We mostly sat around and played the banjo I brought along.

 We even took advantage of the shuttle that takes riders from a suburb north of Montreal to the northwest end of the trail.  Unlike many of the lazy people we met that day, we carried our gear rather than have the shuttle take it to where we stayed each night.  All we had was a change of clothes and a banjo.

 Within a few minutes, we had left behind the small town of Mont-Laurier and were in the mostly boreal forests of Quebec.  We didn't see any moose.

 Our first night, we stayed at an inn on Grand lac-Nominingue.  They served an exquisite dinner, likewise for breakfast, and had kayaks to use on the lake and a hot tub to ease our weary muscles from riding nearly 40 (flat) miles.  That was about 30 miles farther than I'd ridden all summer.

 The next day, we encountered some of the damage we'd been notified about from flooding when the remnants of Hurricane Debby passed through the area.  At first, we just had to ride carefully over some gravel and debris, or get off and walk through it, but then we got to the major issue where the trail was completely washed away.  Some people got around it and were able to carry their bikes over another, smaller washout, but we took advantage of the free offer from the shuttle service to carry us around to the other side.

 

 

 Soon enough, we were on a brand-new, paved surface.  We were also approaching the busiest section of the trail near Mont-Tremblant.  It's an area with a fancy ski resort that we knew nothing about except there might be some decent hiking so we planned a day off from riding there and would stay two nights.  As we approached the metropolis, there was significantly more traffic, enough to necessitate a center stripe to keep people on their own side to avoid collisions.  This log was an obvious problem, and I couldn't understand why someone had gone to the trouble to cut it, but still leave the rest blocking half of the trail.

 I thought of a solution.

 In addition to carrying a small banjo, I was carrying a 40'' bow saw for just such an issue.  Not.  The tree was on the trail right next to one of the many golf courses in the area, and the maintenance garage happened to be right there, so I went over and helped myself to the bow saw.  Now that I'm a convert to folding saws, I'm amazed I ever got anything done with these contraptions, but I got the tree off the trail before 6:30 am and before anyone else came along that morning.

As I said, Gail and I hadn't heard of Mont-Tremblant before this trip, and neither of us had ever been to a major ski resort.  I've never been to Disney World before, but I suspect there are a few similarities.  We had to ride a gondola for 30 seconds over much of the "village" to get to the bottom of the ski slopes (and zip lines, and bungee jumping, and multiple other gondolas to the top of the mountain) where the hiking trail began.

 The trail was more challenging than expected (at least for me), and pretty busy with more than just us taking it instead of the ski lift to the top.

 Since it was a hot, muggy day, we took advantage of the large restaurant/food court and ate our lunch inside for the AC.  There was a bit of smoke from western wildfires, but the view was still pretty impressive.  The area at the top was a bit like Mt. Washington: a circus.  It looks like they do weddings up there.  We hiked back down rather than take the zip line or gondola.

 One feature Gail was looking forward to on the whole trip was an abundance of French (Canadian) pastry shops.  We ate really well, especially at the B&Bs we stayed at, but never quite found the pastry shop until the last morning.  Her heart was all aflutter.

 The last few kilometers, the trail followed the Riviere du Nord and snaked its way around some hills.

 And our car was still right where we left it, fully charged and ready for the trip home.

With one quick stop in Montreal.  Well, about 45 minutes of mid-day traffic to get to the Sans Gluten Bakery.  Let me tell you, it is/was worth it.  I'd do the whole bike trip to go back there again, but I think Gail has her sights on another Canadian rail trail on Prince Edward Island.  Maybe they have gluten free pastry shops.

Women Swam For Hospicare

 

 

The annual Women Swimmin' event to raise money for local hospice services was touch-and-go this year.  It happened the day after the remnants of Hurricane Debby passed through the area.  While I was sure it would be canceled, the heaviest rain stayed west of us, and we had very little wind.  By Friday afternoon, it was sunny and looking good.  Saturday morning all systems were Go.  It proved to be the most challenging in memory as there were strong currents in the lake that pushed swimmers (and bouys) far off course, and there weren't enough paddlers to keep a close eye on the situation.  All-in-all, Gail spent six hours in her kayak as part of the Safety Team, and I went back-and-forth across the lake six times in five hours picking up swimmers who had no nearby escort.  An old friend, over 90-years-old, Dan was an escort using his kevlar canoe.  The waterfall near the Yacht Club was raging.  Over $600,000 was raised by swimmers.

Quick Mountain Trip

 

 

With a few weeks between GrassRoots and Women Swimmin', I was able to finish up some stuff around the house and hood and still get in a four-day trip to the Adirondacks.  My first stop was in Piseco where I saw Gail's brother and family at Chips and Ann's house.  No pics of them, the boys blended into the couch too much to show, but the tornado damage at the top of their driveway was significant enough to get a pic.

 I camped at the Slide Brook Campsites near Elk Lake.  There were three other groups there, but with a lean-to and several tent sites, there was plenty of room.  In the morning, I started the traverse of the Dix Range by going up Macomb Slide.  One video about trails in the Adirondacks claimed it's the steepest in the mountains, but that's only true if one goes straight up.  I zigzagged so many times, I think I might have doubled the distance. 

 

On over to South Dix with clearer views of the Beckhorn that blocks the view of Dix for much of the hike.

 

 

Grace (formerly East Dix, renamed for Grace Hudowalsk) followed.  The summit had a decent view, but the treat was just beyond with exposed cliffs facing the rest of the range and the northern high peaks.  Nine miles away, Marcy sticks up between Hough and Dix.

After Grace, it's necessary to retrace your steps over South Dix before heading over to Hough.  Thankfully, South Dix is one of the lower of the group.

 Looking back at Grace and the exposed ledges just northeast of the summit.

From the renowned Beckhorn.  It is a prominent peak, but there isn't enough elevation change between it and Dix to count on its own.  They are also only a short .2 mile apart.  Great views though, and a fun scramble up a ledge to get to the top.

 

 

The view of the Great Range from Dix.  The open ledges offered views of the Keene Valley, Elk Lake, and much of the range that isn't obstructed by the Beckhorn.  And waaay off to the north, Whiteface (20+ miles).

The trip down was a long one, and the Beckhorn Trail is another renowned for its steepness.  When  I got back to the lean-to, I learned the woman who came back after dark the night before with her husband and two large dogs had seriously injured her knee.  Luckily for her, there was a fire fighter from Rochester camped there and he did triage and had an emergency beacon to call rangers to come get her.

 

 

 Due to a stupid move on my part, I decided to go back up the Macomb Slide so I could get a signal to let Gail know how the day went.  She was kind enough to send me the updated summit forecasts, so I wanted to return the favor.  I also thought of going back up if there was a potential for a nice sunset and I had any steam left (I did), but it didn't look like the sun would break through the clouds.  When I'd gone up in the morning, I got a signal almost immediately after leaving the woods and onto the slide, but this time I ended up going almost to the top before I gave up.  Then on the way down, I hit a sweet spot, texted her, and we both slept better.  Another stupid move was not taking a headlamp with me so I couldn't stay for the sunset.  From the little bit we could see from the lean-to, it turned out to be spectacular.  At least the view of the Great Range was sharper than it had been in the morning.  Can you imagine those clouds all red, orange and pink?

A splendid day, and I have completed all the Adirondack peaks on the list of the highest 25 in the Northeast.  Only Katahdin and Hamlin in Maine left.  But lots more interesting peaks in the Adirondacks and Whites to get to.....

The next day, the weather was even better so I took a different route up to Dix and Hough before coming down the Lillian Brook Trail.  I thought I had all day but once up there got a message that Glenn and Mary Ann would get to their house much earlier than planned.  I still had plenty of time to take in the views and relax.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I had a nice sunrise kayak on Lake George.

Things are much better for Glenn now that he's resigned to wearing the helmet all the time outdoors, and has the fridge next to the couch for easy access.  The only disappointment is he can't change the hinges and still has to stand to get something out of it.

 

 Mary Ann is an avid tennis player (Top seed on her high school team a few years ago).  She was going to the courts to see if there would be anyone to play with but I thought it would be fun to join her and see if I could get a point.  6-2, 6-1.  Respectable.

I asked a bored kid whose dad was playing pickleball if he would take a video of our action to capture my form (I could learn from reviewing the tapes).  The kid has a future in film making.  I tried pickleball for the first time.  Think I'll stick to tennis.

And thanks to the google, all my photos pop!