It’s been a while in the waiting to reach my 800th Adirondack peak, and sifting through the 900 or so that I have not climbed I focused on Texas Ridge in Schroon Lake. Located just north of the Loch Muller trailhead, the ridge stands diligently waiting at more than 3,000 feet. I chose this peak because of its massive expanse and my deep curiosity of such a name in northern New York.
It would prove to be an interesting start to the day as we waited at Stewarts in Schroon Lake for our final hiking partner to show. I won’t mention any names to protect the guilty. Come to find out he was at the Blue Ridge trailhead for Hoffman Notch waiting for us; our plans for the day definitely got twisted and unfortunately he never joined us, but did manage to get a peak of his own.
Arriving at Loch Muller
Loch Muller from the village is not a hop, skip and jump — it takes a bit of time to get there. Since 9 a.m. had come and gone and so had 9:30 a.m., we arrived at the not completely plowed access road. The end of the plowed area is a snowplow turn-around with a “no parking” sign and a guy with a shotgun. So to save any hassle we managed to nudge our vehicles off the road enough to give a small plow enough room to maneuver. The guy with the shotgun disappeared and we felt clear to go; he might have been a figment of my imagination.
We opted to leave the snowshoes in the car and went for the bare-booting method and Microspikes if needed. The crust was quite solid and we didn’t see it as an issue, but I did not take my size into account. More on that in a bit. The trailhead was about another 0.3 miles down the unplowed road, so the added walk wasn’t all that much and in no way a demanding feat.
Upon reaching the trailhead, we signed into the trail register and started our descent along the trail. I soon started to doubt my decision to leave the snowshoes warm and dry in the car. The trail unfortunately descends for a while on the way in, making the realization set in that we would need to climb at the end of the day and if any of you know, that can be bad!
It was soon 10 a.m. but the dark cloudy day made if feel as if it were already late in the afternoon. I would have to win over my lack of vitamin D and dig deep down for the energy and move on. We quickly chewed up the first mile and a half to the Big Pond Trail intersection and at this point I had to make a decision, and since no one in the party wanted to voice their opinion I went with my original plan to taking the southern ridge up and the western face back down. It was honestly a tough decision. Michael, Corenne, John, Melissa and I charged at the final section of trail before we would venture into the mysterious Hoffman Wilderness.
The climb of Texas Ridge
This section of trail was a steady climb as we passed through spruce forest and into the hardwoods, ending on the shoulder of the ridge. While we moved along quite well, I knew time was not on our side and the late start made it even less affordable to monkeying around. The crust off the trail was just as unstable; I led the initial attack on Texas. Fortunately though there wasn’t much snow beneath to battle. However, each and every step was a chore as I had to stomp through the crust; trying to walk softly only delayed the inevitable crack, making it even more tiring.
We took turns breaking trail for a while and John stepped up next to get us steeply up the slopes to the first bump along the ridge. The ridge was a pleasant surprise as the open hardwoods parted even more. Still in a land without shadows, we moved unfaltering through the open forest and started our climb up to the second bump of the ridge, where we hoped a view could be obtained. It was unfortunate as none were found, but what we did start to find were a spattering of spruce trees. We knew soon we would be in the thick of it. A couple of thick pockets made us push and pull a bit more, but once we came through unscathed on the other side we were rewarded with more uncluttered hardwoods.
Looking right, the trees were coated in a layering of white; looking left was a scene of brown. The movement of the previous storm was obvious and the beauty the moving clouds gave us was a welcoming sight.
We continued to use the ridge as a handrail to the summit and it worked fine for the most part, but the other part that wasn’t the most part were the thick stands of spruce. It wasn’t so much the spruce but the mixture of steep terrain and constant snow bombing the back of our necks with every push we made. This was the moment I realized that my 8-year old waterproof shell was no longer a viable part of my winter hiking gear. By the time we reached the third bump along the ridge my engine was starting to sputter. I am not sure what my personal falter was on this day but I was whooped and my legs felt like tubes of concrete. Thankfully the third bump gave us a nice view and took my mind, if even for a slight moment, off my fatigue. We could see Hoffman Mountain and the final bump — the summit of Texas Ridge. It was about 0.4 miles away, which could have been on the moon for how I was feeling, but I would press on.
Thankfully, at this point John and Michael were all about breaking trail. I never argue with someone who has that passion. The terrain now had moments of very dense growth and even steeper terrain. Inching our way closer we finally passed the final contour line on the GPS. The upper portion of this ridge is a bit flat, so I pressed on until I was sure we topped out on the highest point of the mountain. I think it was three or so small knobs later when we stood where we all felt comfortable that we were there. Eight hundred done was such a great feeling, but the summit area didn’t allow for much room to relax and celebrate.
Getting back to the trailhead
I switched out my liner gloves, put on dry mittens and tucked a fresh pair of hand warmers onto the back of my hands. We were all ready for a quick exit off of this beast and to do so we would need to drop off of the western side of the mountain, which appeared to be a steep undertaking. Corenne led the way, and without falter she dropped off of Texas Ridge on a rapid descent. We were aiming for the Hoffman Notch trail and the closest route to it. It was unclear by looking at the map if we would come across any cliffs on our retreat but we figured we would deal with them if they appeared.
We missed one right off the top as we skirted its tall ledges, dropping even further in elevation. The spruce was thick in spots, but overall this side of the mountain was pretty easy in comparison to the upper portion of the southern ridge. Fully immersed in nature, we continued to collect needles down the backs of our shirts, and like the opening of a curtain we arrived in the hardwoods. The forest edge was so sharp at this point there was no gentle transition.
Now in the deciduous forest we moved very quickly, and as the features of the forest passed by in a glimpse we came to the dreaded crossing of Trout Brook. It’s a big brook as brooks come in the Adirondacks, and we had no idea what it would take to get across. Something must have been smiling upon us as we hit it just right. The brook was shallow enough to cross with only a couple of steps in the open water. Corenne didn’t like those conditions as much, and she decided to step in water that was up to her knee. Luckily the gaiters stopped her boot from being filed with liquid ice.
The trail was right there and we were all very happy to see it. We finally saw evidence of humans, as fresh tracks led us along the brook and quickly back to the Big Pond trail. The sun was reaching the horizon but it was obvious we'd be back at the cars without breaking out the headlamps. One of our goals was to make it back to the trail before dark but then again, that's always the goal at the end of the day. However, the true goal overall is not to just get a peak, but to enjoy the trip is some way and to do it safely, and when you can do that with a group of awesome people it's pure Adirondack gold.
After the hike, be sure to head into Schroon Lake for dinner and shopping!
