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A slightly shorter than normal TR, with a shorter than normal hike. It was a 2 ½ hour bushwhack to and fro Little Wildcat, a 3k to the NW of Wildcat itself. Marc Howes invited me along, along with nearby Black Mtn., and maybe Paugus. I jumped at the chance to hike with Marc, forgetting along the way that I had to preferably pick someone up at 6 PM, and had to be back by 7 to yet again be the backup DJ (real fun standing in one spot after a hike). Oops. With a 2 ½ hour drive, this might be tight.
I pulled into Glen House amidst a sea of bicycles (the auto road bike race, yay). I spotted Marc and we were off in short order. It was moderate grades from the get-go, letting up eventually, but either Marc was being kind, or I was keeping up well. Marc took the initial lead, checking his compass far less often than I do. As it turns out, Marc’s got an excellent built-in compass. Whenever I led, I’d invariably end up right of our heading, to which Marc would gently correct me. I check my compass every couple of minutes, but too much of that could’ve added up. Usually I go in the other direction to correct when this happens, ya know, just to add some more mileage. Another advantage of whacking a lot is he was good at finding paths through the nasty bits. I’m more of a plow in a straight line kinda guy, but I noticed the energy-expenditure difference.
The woods are nice and open down low, and as he called it, we started seeing some moderately thick bands around 2800 ft. None of these lasted long, and the going was relatively easy and quick. As we got higher, the grade gets steeper, and we encountered a couple of small ledges, but they proved to be little problem with plenty of handholds. It was beautifully mossy up there. We came to a ledge and had a nice view of the Presi’s. Love those surprise views on a supposedly viewless hike.
I’m generally a quiet guy when I first meet people, and the conversation was short but easy-going heading up. Might have had something to do with the huffing and puffing I was busy with. Coming down, the talk flowed a little more.
Up top, the woods are pretty open, and we travelled north along the summit ridge for a short time before Marc spotted the summit. Good thing, too, as I totally missed it as the only thing showing on the side we were on was a thin orange string. The last person up there was in June. I planned ahead and actually had something funny (to me, anyway) to add. I’m usually at a loss.
Coming down was quick, save for a few moss traps, Marc leading the whole way got us exactly to our starting point. Of course, in typical Salty fashion, my first mishap of the day was slipping and almost falling on the gravel road. No, not on the steep mossy ledges, but on a stupid road. Hilarity provided, thank you. Marc starting discussing heading up to Black, and I felt like a putz and had to back out. My legs were shaking pretty bad for some reason, and I had underestimated the length involved in the Black hike. It would probably also be pressing up against my must-go time. I asked if he was going to do it solo, and was relieved greatly when he said “oh, yeah”. Phew, wouldn’t be blowing his plans, but unfortunately wouldn’t be providing any company.
A nice little whack, nice to meet Marc and observe his tactics. Sorry to bail, but as I’ve mentioned before, Saturdays are tough for me. Hopefully, that’ll be easing up shortly.
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