Adirondack Peeks Summer 2025

that was quite an outing, weaving back and forth across the winter ski trail. Walter was my partner in Adirondack Hut to Hut Ski Tours, which we operated primarily in the Kunjamuck Wilderness and Siamese Ponds Wilderness for 10 years from 1980 to 1990. During those years, we led some weeklong tours in the high peaks, including skiing the famed Jackrabbit trail near Lake Placid. I will always remember meeting the legendary Herman Smith Johannsen, known to all as Jackrabbit Johannsen. He died at age 111; Phyllis and I had met him two years before he died at Chateau Montebello, the Canadian Railway log resort hotel with eight wings, which is the headquarters of the Canadian Ski Marathon. I entered the ski marathon sixteen times, completing the two-day, 100-mile race between Montreal and Ottawa twice for the Courier de Bois (Runner through the Woods) bronze and silver medals. The gold medal requiring the skier to carry a heavy pack and camp overnight on the trail eluded me. Jackrabbit Johannsen had convinced the early planners of the Canadian Ski Marathon to run it through the Laurentians, instead of a flatter, more southerly route. It was mountain skiing. We sat together on a sofa with Jackrabbit and his daughter in the great lobby next to the octagonal fireplace. Jackrabbit was alert, telling us of his adventures, skiing years before to the top of Haystack Mountain in the Adirondacks with John Apperson of Schenectady; he also mentioned taking other skiers into the high peaks. He talked about his business dealings in Cuba and his dismay that the US had such poor relations with Cuba. His daughter, Alice E. Johannsen, wrote of him talking about that climb with Apperson: “We stood there on the

elevation, the twenty-fifth highest peak in the Adirondacks. You are advised that a successful hike requires research, physical fitness, and the right gear. That seemed okay. We went in from Upper Works on a Friday night and camped in the lean-to on the south end of Flowed Lands. The next morning, we started the hike crossing the bridge over Calamity brook outlet of Flowed Lands, following the northwest shore of the lake. At Herbert brook, we began our ascent per the directions provided in the 1973 edition of the ADK Guide to Adirondack Trails . The going was good, it was a nice day, and we reached the summit without great difficulty. We rested, had lunch, enjoyed the view and started down. One thing I hadn’t considered: Phyllis was a bit slower going on this trailless peak than I was, and we started down later than I would have liked. We had to descend the mountain and find the trail that we had traveled to find the brook . . . before dark. We did our best going down, but darkness was fast approaching. I was worried, because I knew if we crossed the trail and missed it, we would be lost on a cool night in the mountains. Phyllis was good natured throughout this ordeal; it was always a source of confidence for me that I could count on her to keep her cool. Fortunately, just as the woods became covered in blackness, I recognized the trail. We had flashlights and were able to find our way safely to the lean-to, at who knows what time, and none the worse for wear. In fact, it was an adventure, but had a lucky ending. I climbed only one peak in winter, with Walter Blank, who has since passed. We went up Mr. Marcy on cross country skis. Since ordinarily I wasn’t an alpine skier, Phyllis Bader-Borel when we climbed Hurricane Mountain with Bill Page

top of Haystack and looked over here at the setting sun. The sky was a wonderful rose. To the northeast trailed the peaks of the Great Range, with Giant in the far distance. . . . It was a sight neither of us would ever forget, for in that moment we saw the world below us as though it were frozen in time.” In her biography of her father, Alice wrote of his years in Lake Placid. From 1922 to 1928,

John during the Canadian Ski Marathon.

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