The Water Bearer

Plateau Mountain, Part 1

I stood motionless, reading the sign at the trail junction. I could walk a mile to the summit of one peak and gain 1240′ feet of elevation, or hike a mile in the other direction and gain 1200′ feet. I actually planned to hike both today. I wasn’t sure which I preferred to tackle first.

A half hour before I sat in the hotel breakfast area, watching the day begin. The sunrise caught the dying leaves on the rolling hills below the Catskills, bringing a soft glow to the autumn leaves.

In the hotel parking lot, the windshield of the car was white with frost. It was a few minutes before I could make my way to the trailhead.

The hike to the junction and signpost was short. A half a mile of wide stony trail and a few water crossings had brought me to this point.

The crunch of gravel and the rustle of leaves behind me drew my attention. This was bear country, and an area of high activity. I wasn’t alarmed when I turned. There was no huffing or chuffing bear behind me, just a tall skinny hiker in his 20’s with bottles protruding from every pocket of his clothes.

He wore wire rimmed glasses, and had long brown hair nearing his shoulders, sticking out beneath a brown knit hat.

He looked at me and sighed, his shoulders drooping.

“That spring is located way to far from the shelter”

“I know!” I replied. “Why not build the shelter a little closer?”

“You must be thirsty, or drew the short straw?” I asked.

“I’m carrying eight liters. We are camped at the shelter just ahead.”

We walked together.

“You’re from New York?”

“Yeah, my friends and I are hiking up to Plateau then a road walk back.”

“Hmm, not a big fan of the road walks.”

“These mountains are nice, shorter than the peaks in New Hampshire” I say.

“But more technical” he replies.

“That’s true.”

We reach the shelter and part ways. I need to double back. I have missed my turn by a few hundred yards, but it’s worth it for the brief conversation. In meeting hikers on the trail, the conversation is usually where you’ve been, or where you’re going. It’s non judgemental with no agendas. It’s an escape from personal politics, religion and social structures that have no meaning in the back country.

I find my path. I dig in with my poles and begin the ascent.