Recently, I attended a Wilderness First Aid (WFA) class provided by Adirondack Wilderness Medicine (AWM) to keep current on the first aid requirement for my New York State Guides License. This was my second wilderness first aid class. The first was an eight-hour class taken through the » Continue Reading.
Peaceful silence is one of the many reasons people explore the Adirondack backcountry. The quiet stillness, interrupted only by natural sounds, provides an ideal opportunity for recharging spiritual batteries, something increasingly crucial in the modern world where haste and expediency rule. This tranquility is fragile however, easily shattered by a jet flying overhead, the revving of a motor engine, a gun discharging or any other incongruent sound.
Another man-made and unnatural sound, although quite rare, completely shatters the illusion of solitude and remoteness, leaving any wilderness enthusiast shaken to their very core. This unwelcome intrusion does not come from an aggressive motor enthusiast, logger or other » Continue Reading.
Rainy days in the Adirondack backcountry provide an ideal opportunity for contemplation. Often my own woolgathering collides with the remoteness of the setting to divert my thoughts to disaster – the possibility of getting lost, being injured or the victim of some other calamity. One of my favorite topics of worry and woe is my lack of a comprehensive emergency response plan.
Every backcountry explorer should prepare an emergency plan, as it provides the necessary information to facilitate locating you should you become lost or suffer a serious, immobilizing injury. Under more dire circumstances an emergency plan may mean » Continue Reading.
Lean-tos provide some of the comforts of home in the Adirondack backcountry – a respite from inclement weather, and a comfortable place to cook, eat and socialize. Unfortunately, a potential hidden danger lurks in every corner, and hikers may be unintentionally contributing to the problem.
The threat is the Hantavirus, a nasty virus in the Bunyaviridae family. These viruses infect, but leave unharmed, a variety of local rodent species. Unfortunately, the virus can produce a potentially fatal disease in humans, brought about by contact with rodent urine, saliva or feces. Deer and white-footed mice » Continue Reading.
Old forest roads get more use than one would think in the Adirondacks. Although they see few motor vehicles these days, many see enough foot traffic, whether it be boot or paw, to maintain their existence in perpetuity. This resiliency is especially useful when planning backcountry adventures, where old roads often allow efficient access to some rather remote areas.
Bushwhacking is hard work. Trudging through dense forest, struggling with hobblebush thickets, climbing over downed trees, and dodging wetlands is no simple walk in the park; unless it’s the Adirondack Park.
An well-trod path provides welcome relief from all this effort, whether it’s a herd path or a marked trail. Old forest roads offer another opportunity for respite, while still retaining that wilderness feel. In the Adirondack backcountry, these old roads are rather abundant.
The Pepperbox Wilderness Area is one of the smaller wilderness areas in the Adirondack Park. It receives few visitors, as it has no spectacular mountain views, few productive waterbodies and lies tucked away in an obscure part of the Park. Its lack of trails is often cited as one of its unique characteristics.
Too bad it is not true. The notion that the Pepperbox Wilderness contains thousands of remote acres free of trails is a fantasy; it is a myth, like Bigfoot or the Tooth Fairy.
What I found along the border of the Five Ponds and Pepperbox Wildernesses recently however, was an extensive illegally-marked trail system cut through some of the wildest backcountry of the Adirondacks.
Sleeping bags are crucial pieces of outdoor gear; nearly a third of the time during an overnight backcountry trip is spent in one. A perfect bag provides for a good night’s rest, a necessity after an arduous day climbing through blowdowns, balancing on beaver dams and weaving through a forested obstacle course. Ideally, a sleeping bag should be warm, comfortable and convenient, yet still lightweight enough to carry wherever curiosity demands without agitating one’s own back.
Like most people, I began my Adirondack backcountry career wide-eyed and naive, almost completely ignorant of the dangers. My ignorance was largely irrelevant in those early days, as I mostly hiked with others and we rarely strayed from marked trails. That innocence was quickly shattered however, as a single traumatic event infused me with a backcountry anxiety that remains to this day.
Unlike common backcountry fears such as isolation, aggressive wild animals, or bloodthirsty insect hordes, mine is both rational and reasonable. Being crushed by a falling tree is the fear that plagues my mind.