Last Wednesday was the final fair-weather day of the month. I found myself eager to finish up a personally prolific October by reaching another seldom-visited summit, and I knew just the perfect one. Van Dorrien Mountain is a hair above the 3,000' mark and fairly isolated in a spectacular and remote neighborhood of the Western High Peaks. I was recently on a 3400' peak WNW of Seward and got a nice look at some open rock high up on its southwestern side, so I knew there were attractive views to be had. Trailless peaks like Van Dorrien tend to present magnificent strategic challenges, to which in the world of Adirondack bushwhacking is a welcomed treat for me. Finding my way to climb Van D would be no different, and I had a number of routes in mind, none particularly easy. Although there was one that I settled on that thankfully proved to be a blessing from the bushwhack gods; it wasn't so spooky after all.
I set off southwards from the Second Pond boat launch in pursuit of October's 35th peak, the temperatures were mighty crisp as I jumped into the wide open hardwoods. Morning's sunlight was a warm beacon that shined brightly through the canopy of autumn's last bits of foliage, most of it crunching below my feet. Intermixed were very tall stands of white pine, always enjoyable to walk under their noble sentinels. The terrain began very gentle, with my line of sight extending luxuriously far towards my desired direction. As I walked on and warmed up, mossy erratics dotted the landscape and I reflected on what a month I had to keep my mind off the jarring cold. I kicked it off with completing the Hundred Highest on my 24th birthday, which was a "monumental" way to celebrate it by climbing the slide and summiting Kilburn. Also in October I completed many tough trailless groups of mountains, such as the Sawtooth, North River, Fishing Brook, Seward, Street and Boreas Ranges, giving me plenty to think (and write) about. These thoughts were interrupted by a most intriguing thing catching my eye: hair ice! Never before have I encountered this somewhat uncommon freezing event, which presents itself as wispy, fiborous rows on decomposing wood.
After pausing to thoroughly document this pleasant surprise, the terrain began to shift to the soft underfoot of a peatland. It was reasonably dry and still had open vegetation, a welcomed treat. This approach continued to feature pleasant woods for virtually the entire way, between 1,600' - 1,800'. Flag Brook was eventually crossed and drainages therein became the next course to follow, many originating from the NW flank of Van Dorrien Mountain, with deep razorback-like draws separating each. I contoured around to orient properly with the high point and skirted a few of these drainages before chosing one to carry me upslope. Things rapidly steepened, for the most part the woods remained kind, and soon some screened-in views to the north towards Lower Saranac could be made out. Cliff bands revealed themselves, with one offering a cool cave-like chamber I briefly investigated. It was warming up to the mid 50s and still a gorgeous bluebird day as I made the last push, which was fairly gradual after the cliffier areas and a peaceful summit was sniffed out. From here it was easy to see where the main attraction was, I soon emerged to an absolutely glorious lookout of worthy reward. A rare perspective of Ampersand Lake is the crown jewel, festooned with a Sawtooths-to-Sewards panorama. I poked around after my lunch to find a bonus lookout with Ampersand Mountain's rocky summit on display with plenty of people atop. I saluted them, I haven't yet climbed it!
I relaxed and enjoyed my 161st summit and the 110th trailless peak of the year at that, I was glad to chose ol' Van D to be thee. But nowadays with the sun setting sooner, it was time to make the 6-mile return trip back to Second Pond where my car was parked at the boat launch. After a pretty quick and painless descent I made excellent time following relatively the same course as my approach, and it was just after 6 hours I found myself back to the sound of passing cars on Rt. 3. Quite the perfect way to wrap up fall hiking this year, a wild approach to a marvelous little peak, with things sailing smoothly in all departments! I was very fortunate to have gotten out as consistently as I did this season, winter weather has made its presence in the High Peaks and the clocks have now fallen back. I am always grateful to be able to explore such incredible places, and thank you all for reading and contributing here. Until next time...
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