Black Dome

After three weekends of rain, Jack had given up on waiting for the sun. He repacked his winter pack, removing the snow goggles, hat and gloves. He tossed in a bug net and some bug spray. Jack took the pack out to the car with a sturdy pair of three season boots as well as a full water bottle. He packed a puffer jacket and of course a rain jacket. It was raining now, as he stowed away the gear for the trip.

It rained through the night, and as he passed through the state of Massachusetts into New York early next morning, it continued. Not a heavy rain, but combined with the wind and 50 degree temperature, it made for raw weather.

The forecast had called for the rain to pass at 8:00 am EST, but it was 9:00 now. He sat drinking a cup of coffee and having a light breakfast at the rest area. Jack had stopped to pick up a bag of trail mix for the hike. walking the aisles of snacks at the rest area, he now understood what had become of the pirates that once plied the waters off the coast of New England in the 1700’s. They had taken over the rest areas and were in charge of pricing the trail mix. The expression “For the price of peanuts” could no longer be used to express an inexpensive cost. Leaving the rest stop, he looked up to see if perhaps they were flying a pirate flag atop the building next to the American flag. He saw neither

An hour later at the trailhead, the rain had dropped off to a fine mist. Jack was a bit late, but had nowhere to go but up. He had returned to New York to continue collecting peaks of the Catskills 3500.

Jack donned his bright orange rain jacket, and unzipped the vents under the arms to vent body heat. He grabbed his hiking hat, shouldered his pack, and marched up the trail.

Much had changed since he was last here climbing Blackhead. The snow and thick ice were gone. The heavy rain caused the mountain streams to rage down from the summit, swollen with water. The trail itself ran a steady trickle of water over the now visible stony path.

Jack crossed a foot bridge over the torrent, but soon came to a water crossing. All the stones used to cross were deep under the surface. Jack did not want to take his boots off. That mountain water was cold. Moving upstream, he looked for another option. After a fruitless search he returned and found a felled tree just past the trail. It was wet and slippery. Jack would have to shimmy across it as though he were on horseback, hugging it with his legs.

Across the stream, he brushed the muck from the seat of his pants. Jack hoped water levels dropped by his return this way. He imagined that it would take a full day before the stream crested.

Jack recalled hiking the trail just months ago and marveled at the difference in conditions. In the distance was Blackhead Mountain.

View of Blackhead in Spring

Viewing Blackhead in Winter

The sun began to poke through the clouds as he arrived at the trail fork. He would go right today, where he’s turned left months before. Soon he was glad to have saved Black Dome instead of hiking it in winter conditions. The trail was a bit more technical, and would require some scrambles. It would have been much more difficult to have hiked this section with a full winter pack and carrying snow shoes.

Most of the summit of Black Dome was wooded, but there were a few breaks where a person could walk out to the open ledge for a view. The wind was abating,and there was some shelter due to the tall fir trees. Jack climbed carefully down to an open ledge. The view of Blackhead was excellent from the outcropping.

Now on the ridge, Jack would continue to his next mountain, Thomas Cole.