I couldn’t have scripted this. Saturday morn, the milliner and I pack up and drive down to the Adirondacks, with the intention of spending the weekend on the rock, doing straightforward climbs, ending the day with dinner in Lake Placid and then sleeping under the stars at the alpine club lodge.
The weather is in the 30s all the way down, just beautiful, and I’m thinking the sweat is going to pour later on. Pull off I-87 toward Elizabethtown, heading toward the mountains. I see some massive storm clouds in the distance, but figure it’s a weather system created in the high peaks. And then, just as we turn left, a few kilometres from where we’re going, the rain comes down.
Nothing major, so we decide to keep going, because you never know, in the ‘Dacks, whether it’s raining a mile or so from where you are. Unfortunately, it still was when we got to Chapel Pond.
Well, says I, let’s try finding this other cliff, on the other side of the mountain. We first get to where we want to camp, set up the tent, and head back to the car. We drive to our second option, the sun comes out, the mugginess starts again, but everything is wet. Screw it, let’s just hike in, the guidebook says it’s a 20-minute approach. An hour later, we’re struggling up a muddy trail, drenched in sweat and run-off. We never made it to the cliff, we’re too hot & bothered. And all our clothes are wet. Once we’re at the car, we change into whatever dry clothes we have. Note: never leave wet clothes in the car for more than a day; especially socks.
Well, let’s go swimming. So, we drive back to where we were originally, and soak our grime away in Chapel Pond. Head over to Lake Placid, window shop for a while, and decide to see a flick (Wedding Crashers, funny). Drive slowly back to camp through the mist, and sleep to the sounds of rain. Sunday, putter around a bit, pack up, and drive back to Montreal in a god-awful-smelling car.
But, hey, at least we got to enjoy nature.