Category Archives: Hiking

Ankles and Angry Leaves

Posted on by
Reply

Leaves of three, let them be

Leaves of five, let them thrive.

I learned this poem as a camper at Franke Park Day Camp, as a way to differentiate Virginia creeper from poison ivy. Apparently, I didn’t learn my lesson. Two weeks ago, I wore shorts on a night hike that veered into brush. A day later, I had angry dots on my legs and shoulders, like little planets.

To my knowledge, there is no poem about twisted ankles, an injury that began during an Ellenville hike, when I jumped off a rock at lunch time. I further loosened the ligaments going down Algonquin Peak on July 31.

The following is self-diagnosis:

Poison Ivy:

Urushiol is the chemical that causes rash. Some people are immune, but other people may have several exposures before noticeable signs. My rash lasted a week, leaving gray marks for another.

Here’s what I should have done. When I got home, I should have rubbed my legs and hands with rubbing alcohol and water to remove the urushiol. Next, I should have taken a warm soapy shower, wiped my clothing and shoes, and scrubbed my finger nails.

I simply took a shower and saw the rash one day later.

Take a poison ivy quiz, if you are confused.

Ankle:

Within the first 24-48 hours, I should have used the RICE method: Rest, ice for 20-minute intervals, compression, and elevation. One thing I did well was to keep the ankle mobilized through gentle walking and Achilles stretching. A common form of rehab is to lie on the back and draw the alphabet with the toes.

“Hi there. I’m your Summit Steward, Kate”

Posted on by
Reply

    Doing Shiva on top of the world

    This was the Wal-Mart greeting at the top of Algonquin Peak, the second highest mountain in New York. Moments before, my fellow hikers and I scaled the space age rocks above the tree line, the edge of a sustainable habitat. At 5,102 feet above sea level, anything seemed plausible, even the spry Kate, who in her early thirties, was half woman/ half billy goat.

    “Just letting you know that the plants up here are delicate and easily damaged,” Kate said. She emphasized professional qualifications with her Adirondack Mountain Club bag. “Can you remind your friends not to walk on the grass?”

    “Sure, Kate,” I said. “I’ll tell them.” I couldn’t move. My legs were shaking, and my voice sounded flat, as if I were talking into a tin can phone. The wind turned puddles into mini cyclones.

    Kate thanked us, looked at her watch, and said, “My day is done. I’m going down the mountain now. Anything I can help you with?”

    “We’re doing fine, Kate. Thank you.”

    Kate disappeared, and I worried about not making it down before sunset. It was about 4 p.m., and those rocks would be three times as hard to go down as up.  We left the top at 4:45 p.m. and reached the parking lot at 8:15 p.m. With shoes untied and beer in hand, I wondered if I had imagined perky Kate, my Summit Steward.

    Walking New York

    Posted on by
    Reply

    Thursday, I stumbled upon an interesting fact: 80% of people who maintain weight loss use walking as their main exercise. I also happened upon a writing tips book where the author said he takes long daily walks or hikes; the one-step-at-a-time approach is a metaphor for novel writing, which is done word-by-word.

    Last year, I joined the Appalachian Mountain Club and rediscovered this primitive form of exercise. Older than man’s first fire-cooked meal, walking provides excellent cardio exercise, a chance to socialize, and opportunities to connect to neighborhoods, nature, and new ideas in old places.

    As an example, I mention an AMC city hike that followed the Old Croton Aquaduct from Lehman College through the front yards of Edgar Allen Poe, Aaron Burr, and Alexander Hamilton!

    According to the hike write-up, the Old Croton Aqueduct was New York City’s main source of clean drinking water from 1839 and 1842 until 1959, a major engineering and public health achievement.

    We walked over this trail, which sometimes resembled a half-submerged pipe, all the way through Manhattan along Amsterdam Avenue. We saw a hawk fly over the abandoned High Bridge and admired the above-ground gate houses near Columbia University.

    Here is an abandoned gate house on 119th and Amsterdam.

    We started the hike close to this location in the Bronx.

    Trails That Burn and Strangers Who Give Coffee

    Posted on by
    Reply

    Hours ago, I finished my Appalachian Mountain Club hike on the New York section of the AT. Already, I feel sore from going over the river, through the woods, and up to Bear Rock. At this time of the year, the AT, which goes from Maine to Georgia, revealed varigated shades of dull orange.

    Along the way, we met a Boy Scout group, a mountain runner, and a young couple cooking hot dogs by the Telephone Pioneer Shelter.  We ate lunch on Bear Rock, experiencing the concrete satisfaction of climbing a mountain and looking down. I experienced similar accomplishment on the reverse journey; we looked back at the place we had been.

    We finished the hike early, around 2 p.m., which gave us a half hour to look through the Native Landscape Garden Center, owned by Peter Muroski, an animal lover, meteorologist, and expert story teller. Our leader suggested that Pete sell coffee to hikers.

    Instead, Pete offered free coffee.

    He led us to his office inhabited by two caged birds, a free-range parrot, and a 13-year-old cat. A native of Brooklyn, he said that people are nicer out of the city and that he’s grateful to do what he loves. As proof, he showed his wall of photos: his wife on their first date, him with a giant fish, two deer mating, and a bearded man finishing the trail. Our guide and my friend suggested he write a book, not about hiking the trail but the strangers who wander off it.

    Pete brightened. He said he lets hikers use the bathroom and camp on his property. In addition, he provides temporary work for hikers wanting to finish the trail. He’s met many people. One experienced hiker let a giant bear get too close while he made oatmeal. The hiker stood up to his full height and said, “You’re not getting my oatmeal.” The bear turned down the mountain.

    Other hikers needed emergency care, the result of hypothermia.

    “I’ve met a lot of people,” he said.

    From our lunch spot on Bear Rock.