A Nite on Bald Mountain?

A Nite on Bald Mountain?

I had a Salesian meeting at the Marian Shrine in Haverstraw early in the afternoon of October 12.  Before I returned home to Silver Spring, I took advantage of the fine weather and Harriman State Park’s proximity to go hiking. 

I hadn’t been to Bald Rocks for a while, and it’s a site I’ve always liked.  There are several approaches to that highest point in the park.
 

The start of the ascent up Black Rock Mt. toward Bald Rocks

I think the most challenging one is the Ramapo-Dunderberg Trail from the hiker’s parking lots on Rte 106, one that I hadn’t used for a very long time.  It wasn’t as demanding as I remembered—I certainly can’t claim that I’m in the best of shape.

  

A ridge section of the R-D Trail along Black Rock Mt.

It took an hour, 10 minutes, to go the mile and a half; I got there about 5:10 p.m.

The shelter at Bald Rocks (2005)

I’d been hoping to use the shelter there, but it was already taken by a party of 2 or 3, already spread out on the half-platform.  The other half of the shelter is just bare rock, sloping somewhat, and it was wet from some leaks.  Altho the woman in there at the time I arrived offered to let me join them, I don’t think she was especially comfortable with the idea in the limited space, and I wasn’t either.  So, with thanks, I went to the area behind the shelter.

There were 2 tents already pitched out there, and I’d seen one off to the side on my way into the area; so I became the 4th tent camper.  I used the hour or so of daylight I had to gather firewood, then pitch my tent and a tarp to shelter my pack from possible dew or rain; so had to prepare supper in the dark, balancing my stove on the rocks of the firepit while I sat on a log.  Preparing supper was simple enuf:  boiling water for my freeze-dried meals (½ packages of lasagna and beef stew left over from my Maryland AT hike), washed down with plain water.  In the post-supper dark, I didn’t want to mess with rigging up a bear bag; about the only thing in my pack that might really have been attractive was some peanut butter.

The sun sets over the ridge. My tent's in the shadowed foreground.

There was a stiff west wind blowing, so it got rather chilly especially when the sun set around 6:00 p.m.  After cleaning my mess kit, I got a nice fire going and sat by it to pray the Liturgy of the Hours, using photocopies of the texts, and read a bit. 

But by 9:00 p.m. I’d let the fire die down and went into my tent to snuggle into my sleeping bag.  I sure wished I was in the shelter, out of the wind and using the fireplace! 

I got a half-decent nite’s sleep (typical when camping), not helped by some loud jerks who arrived and pitched their tent just over the ridge in the middle of the nite and talked for a very long time.  

But in the small hours of the morning, 4:00 or 4:30, heard raindrops on my tent fly.  I didn’t feel like getting my arms out of my mummy bag to look at my watch for a more precise time.  But all the more reason to wish I’d been in the shelter!  Despite all my hoping the rain would be brief, it wasn’t.  I may have dozed off a little bit more, but I must have been pretty much awake by 6:00.  My one-man tent is too confined for sitting up for long or for much reading prone in the sleeping bag.

So I finally decided at 7:30 I might as well face the weather and got dressed, topped off with my rain jacket, and exited into a steady rain—fortunately not a heavy one, but no mere drizzle either.  Breaking camp in the rain ain’t fun.  I was glad I’d put my pack under a tarp; as I gathered gear to stuff into it, I covered it with my poncho.  At first I thought I’d hike out without the trouble of breakfast, but I’ve always treasured a nourishing breakfast; furthermore, as a diabetic I do need to get something into my system before vigorous activity.  So I thought better of it, and I boiled my water, ate my oatmeal, and drank my coffee standing in the rain.  I think I added a few almonds.  Not ideal conditions, but it did hit the spot.  Least fun was breaking down the tent in the rain; naturally a wet tent also adds to the weight of one’s backpack.

A bit of autumn color along Black Rock Mt. on the hike in on Friday

I wasn’t keen on hiking on a slippery, very rocky trail with a lot of descent, fairly steep in several places (remember? Bald Rocks is highest point in the park), but had no other choice.  Happily, another camper was departing at the same time, so we hiked out together without any misadventures, in just over an hour.  At the parking area I met a troop of Scouts preparing to hike up to Bald Rocks, confident that the rain would soon stop—which it did, and the sun even came out a bit in the afternoon.

After returning to the Marian Shrine, my first stop was the residence so that my confreres could see that I was safely back and so that I could get a cup of hot coffee.  Then I “retreated” to my room in the retreat house—there being no guest rooms available in the residence, that where the community kindly quartered me—and got myself cleaned up and did my best to spread stuff out to dry in my room and on a bannister over a stairwell.  I celebrate my Saturday Mass; doing so in the retreat house had been my plan all along, and wasn’t compelled by the rain.  As always, I enjoyed the company of my confreres in the Marian Shrine community for evening prayers and supper.  After reading email, including the news that comes to me thereby, I retired earlier than usual for a better nite’s sleep than I had at Bald Rocks.

More photos: https://pix.sfly.com/TFfHeF