WINTER 2023 | 41 all that remained of the bridge. As Doug waded across the mud-bottomed pond the water was up to the bottom of his pack. I clung to a waterlogged remnant of the old bridge and dragged it along for support. It reminded me of that scene at the end of the Titanic movie where the guy and the girl are clinging to a piece of floating debris before the guy is too frozen to hang on and slips into the ocean never to be seen again. So now I’m totally soaked and seriously cold and pretty worried. Doug is also cold and concerned; we need to stop soon and get into dry clothes, eat something, and hopefully warm up. We made it to the Feldspar Lean-to. By that time, we were shivering nonstop, and I had trouble getting my fingers to unbuckle the pack or take my socks o . I stripped o my wet clothes and put on the dry stu and extra rain gear I had in my pack. We ate and drank a bit and felt we also needed to get back moving to generate some body heat. I believe I would have crossed into serious hypothermia had it not been for the dry clothes and food. But we still had many miles ahead of us to get back and no more dry clothes to change into. We decided to abandon the idea of doing the peaks and just hike out. Going back the way we came seemed like a bad idea as streams were continuing to rise so we decided to descend to Avalanche Lake and out from there. We got to the cairn marking the trail to Redfield and Cli . There was no uncertainty on my part about leaving them for another day. We still had maybe eight miles to get back out in one piece. The hike down to the lakes went along the Opalescent River, which was raging spectacularly. The tremendous volume and power of water thundering down falls and through fissures was awesome. To see it is a privilege shared only by those who find themselves out in the middle of the mountains during a period of sustained heavy rain. It was very cool! (And I was cold but no longer too cold). With six miles left to go once down along the lakes, ribbons of water adorned the face of the cli s along Avalanche Lake; the Colden trap dike was a cascading steam. The trails, always rocky, rooty, and muddy, were at times under several inches of water. We paused at Marcy Dam; Doug changed his socks to get the gravel out. People out in the mountains on a day like this tend to be at least moderately risk tolerant, often seasoned with a bit of overconfidence and maybe a dash of poor judgement. Fringe outliers of that group would include the group we passed whose company included a shivering, very sick bulldog wrapped in a blanket and a woman with a newborn. Got back out after 17 miles and 7 hours (and I was 5 pounds lighter) from when we started. Hot shower and warm clothes. Root beer and a pizza at Big Slide Brewery. Doug headed back to Vermont and I to Connecticut. As usual, these adventures aren’t limited to the time on the trail. Preparation and anticipation before, and memories after (and in this case a bit of PTSD), are a great part of their enduring appeal. Time to start planning our next trip! (And I did return a few weeks later under better conditions to do Redfield and Cli , which were my last two mountains of the 46.)
RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy OTk3MQ==