I had an alpine start this morning, shushing our ever vigilant and completely unreasonable guard doodle Missy as I slipped out the back door at 2:15 am. Fortunately her barking did not wake anyone else in the house. And I could hear from the driveway that she had stopped before I even got to the car.
The drive up to Spruceton Road was uneventful, but longer than I expected, as always. I don’t know why I underestimate the size of the Catskills, but it always surprises me when I get off the highway and realize how much farther I still have to go. The only thing of note on the drive was the very distinct and noticeable improvement in the road surface on Route 42 once I crossed over into Greene County in comparison to Ulster County.
I arrived at the trailhead at the end of Spruceton Road around 4:45 am and helped a pair of guys who thought they were at the western end of the Devils Path and didn’t understand why their shuttle wasn’t there to take them to the other end for their through hike. I asked if they had a map; they said no, that they had AllTrails (oh, and they said they’d never been in the Catskills before). So I showed them where we were on the map and where the Devils Path came out, which was where I had actually seen a van marked “taxi” idling when I had driven by five or ten minutes ago. So I checked “good deed for the day” off on my list, the two guys took off back down Spruceton Road, and I started walking towards the Hunter Mountain trailhead.
It was a very nice morning, a little cooler than I was expecting at 55 degrees Fahrenheit. I warmed up quickly though once I made the turn for Rusk and started the surprisingly steep ascent. That was a tough little climb. I could see the sun coming up through the trees behind me. Before I knew it, I saw the little orange canister.
I know some people like being out there in the middle of nowhere and dislike seeing signs of human presence. I get that, but I also personally really love that feeling of coming up on a summit and seeing either the summit sign or canister. It’s a visual confirmation of that satisfaction and accomplishment that makes that last hour or last 90 minutes of pushing up the mountain worth it. I will never get tired of that feeling of coming upon the summit, no matter the mountain.
I was denied that feeling, however, on East Rusk. I was following the herd path between Rusk and East Rusk, which was definitely less defined and harder to follow than that going up to Rusk itself. I definitely somehow bypassed the true summit and skirted it to the south a bit. But no matter.
When I got to the bottom and met back up with the bridal path trail up towards Hunter, I paused to put some medical tape on my heels. My Hoka Speedgoats were rubbing and created some hotspots surprisingly
The climb up the bridal path/road to Hunter went quickly. I made a short side trip to see the John Robb Lean-to, which was delightfully tucked away in a very nice little spot. I saw evidence of some campers still asleep in the leanto so I turned and left, so as not to disturb them.
It was on top of Hunter that I saw the first real live (awake) people since the ambitious pair doing el Camino del Diablo as their debut hike in the Catskills at the wrong trailhead. The guys on top of Hunter had come up Becker Hollow and were doing the eastern portion of el Camino to a car they had waiting at Prediger Road.
I don’t have too much to say about the rest of the hike. It just all went very smoothly and was a beautiful day in the woods. I made great time on the smooth trails all around both sides of Hunter. That Devil’s Acre lean to, in contrast to John Robb, is not tucked away in the slightest. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a lean to quite so right in the middle of the trail as that. I could not find the Devil’s Acre spring, but I didn’t need it. I had plenty of water.
The hike over to SW Hunter was very fast and rewarded me with that same feeling upon the first glimpse of the canister. Catskill 3500er number seven (7).
It was coming down that segment of the Devil’s Path towards Diamond Notch falls that I really started to see other people, including a woman hiking both Hunter and SW Hunter who proudly told me she was 84. That’s amazing!
As I neared Diamond Notch Falls, I heard the unmistakable sounds of jocularity and jollity. Sure enough, there was a group of people younger than me, some in Tevas, enjoying themselves on the rocks at the pool and down near the base of the falls.
I finished up the walk to my car. By the time I got out there (almost 11:00 exactly), the parking lot was packed with some very interesting parking choices on display. Same at the trailhead for Hunter farther down.
All in all a great morning in the woods, despite the blister on my heel. And I was home a cool 30 minutes earlier than I had initially estimated to Mrs. NJTom, for the win.