This week I had to drive south for a conference and felt the usual twinge of regret to leave the mountains. I decided to break up the trip with a walk to see the view from Mount Severance in Schroon Lake. It's the perfect diversion from a ride in the car—long enough to stretch your back but not so tough you need a change of clothes when you get down, at least in winter.
Just before the trail head there is a great piece of sculpture at the Schroon Lake Bed and Breakfast. I ran into Mark Piper the proprietor who told me Merlin, as the old man is known, was a gift from his mother-in-law. There's no doubt more to that story so a stay at the B and B is in order.
Severance is notable for the unusual trail access via tunnels under the Northway. In some ways the tunnels add a feeling of adventure and the road sounds quickly fade as you enter the woods. My hearing was more attuned to the ever-so-slight rustling of young beech leaves and the mildly alarmed chickadees than the highway sounds behind me.
It was nice to see good trail work has been done--there are two bridges to cross and a nice staircase complete with handrail. There is also a pair of nice benches at the top of a little rise. Plenty of deer and coyote sign criss-crosses the trail both down low under the hemlocks and up higher in the hardwoods.
Although a lot of snow had melted there was a fair amount of hard pack and ice, which from the look of several long skids had also caused trouble for a few deer. I relied on my Microspikes but I carried a trekking pole for insurance.
Including stops to take photographs and snoop around some animal tracks I was on top in 40 minutes. The view was bright and clear. I studied the fishing shanties near Clark's Island where there is reputed to be one of the oldest trees in New York State. The far hills in the Pharoah Lake Wilderness to the east looked very tempting to explore. Near my own foot prints I saw tracks of deer coming out to enjoy the view—or more likely to absorb some thermal energy from the sunshine. On a steep patch of ice the tracks twirled around like an ice skater's then turned back.
On the way down I crossed the tracks of a ruffed grouse that hadn't been there on the way up and then a nice set of fox tracks that had also not been there earlier. Finding tracks on top of my own gives me the fulfilling sensation that I am just another one of the wild things in the woods. I can pretend for the day but Winter Storm Nemo, underway as I write today, gives me respect for the resourcefulness of the wilder species.
