Adirondack Peeks Summer 2024

EDITORS' RAMBLE Sherry Roulston, #12512 A s I put snowshoes, skis, and poles away and search the attic high and low for a bug net, I’m distracted by old relics and discover an

Time is relative; it's only worth depends upon what we do as it is passing —Albert Einstein

Corell reexamines the decisions he made as a youth climb ing the Colden trap dike four times and shares his knowl edge of the dike to those who have it on their bucket list. The Adirondack 46ers’ strength is our combined experi ence, allowing us to educate each other on how to safely pursue and enjoy the high peaks. In “We Climb Together, Separately,” read how a 46er correspondent supported an aspiring 46er in her hiking odyssey and transformed a men tor-mentee relationship into a lifelong friendship. As we cel ebrate our newest 46ers, we're reminded that each hiker's journey is a unique story unfolding over time. The Boulder Report highlights some of the takeaways from our new re cruits, offering insights into the challenges they faced, the memories they made, and the ways in which their lives have been changed by their time in the mountains. How is our understanding of the Adirondacks shaped by the passage of time and the accumulation of knowledge across generations? How inspiring is it that so many before us were hiking these mountains with no idea of how tall they really were? In Letters to the Editors, Keene, NY, historian Tony Goodwin provides solid evidence on the height of our beloved 47th high peak and is determined to give all of those who have bushwhacked their way to the top and found the summit sign the credit they deserve, every foot! After climbing MacNaughton, put your feet up and enjoy some “armchair mountaineering time,” reading stories about the Adirondacks written by 46ers in Mountain Vignettes. Don’t forget to hydrate and pack some snacks! Just as spring will naturally turn to summer, requir ing no time management on our part, the total eclipse natu rally occurred at the precise time skywatchers were told it would. Nature never hurries, yet it is always on time. The tranquil image of the eclipse on our cover was taken by photographer and writer Jonathan Zaharek from Mount Jo. Like all captivating art, it’s timeless and reveals to me a new reflection every time I look at it. Within these pages we hope to inspire you, transport you—new, aspiring, and long-time 46ers—with spirited, funny, and, at times, heart breaking narratives. In the same way we embraced the excitement and savored the anticipation waiting for the eclipse, we cherish the long days of summer and our time deeply engaging in the woods—when time stands still yet paradoxically rush es by. I’m compelled to grab onto the hands of time, drag my feet in the earth and slow down the fleeting moments of spring. Thanks to Einstein, we know that the faster we climb, the slower time passes. Ramble on!

hour has passed. We all experience the passing of time. We feel it in the rhythms of growing older, in the memories we revisit, and in our dreams of the future. Most of us measure time in hours, days, months, and years; time is absolute and paces forward with regularity, at precisely the same speed in every corner of the world. According to Albert Einstein, despite our common perception that a second is always a second everywhere in the universe, the rate at which time flows depends upon where you are and how fast you are traveling. For instance, two hikers moving at the same speed will agree their miles covered and hiking time match. However, if one hiker moves at a slower pace, they will perceive the other's measure of time differently from their own. As we hike through the Adirondacks, we're traversing a landscape shaped by the immense forces of time. These ancient mountains remind us of the enduring power of nature and the fleeting nature of our own lives. As I write the Ramble, spring has sprung in the Adirondacks. We’ve turned the clocks ahead and the slow pace of winter is transforming into a buzzing whirlwind of activities. It’s mud season; kettle ponds brim with melted snow and rivers and streams gush over, erratically send ing mounds of sediment through the woods. Black-throated Warblers are back and singing their song, “I am so lay-zee,” in the balsam-scented forest; ephemeral spring flowers— Trout Lily, Carolina Springbeauty, and Dutchman’s Breech es—are budding beneath the unfolded trees. The passing of time is felt in the change of season, in the muddy, wet, blooming woods. For many of us, the Adirondacks serve as a backdrop for our personal journeys. Each trail conquered, each summit reached, each new flower identified becomes a milestone in our story of growth and self-discovery. What does it mean to take a decade, or a lifetime, to hike these mountains? Who were we when we started? Who are we now? In Talking Points, we time travel from Margaretville, NY, to the tops of fire towers and high peaks with Laurie Rankin, who shares her own personal journey of self-discovery from her early years as the daughter of a fire tower observer to her present role as president of the 46ers. Discover how a tower bird educated Laurie on the nature of time. By the time you receive this issue, Laurie will have handed the reins over to Dave Pawlick. Thanks for stepping up Laurie and Dave and supporting the 46ers! The mountains we climb were formed over millions of years. As we climb them, we’re forced to reflect on our own place within time. In “The Foolishness of Youth,” Phil

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