The new CATS trail off Cook Road (South across Shirley Forest Property) is almost complete. It connects Beaver Flow Trail to Cook Road directly across from Boquet Mountain Trail, so hikers don't have to walk the half-mile up Cook Road to continue on to the next trail. An ambitious hiker can now start at Ferris Road and traverse the Bobcat Trail, Beaver Flow Trail and Boquet Mountain Trail all the way to Jersey Street. Crossing Walker Road and Cook Road would be their only connection to the outside world. This "three trail hike" would encompass about seven miles of hiking (exact mileages will be established later this summer).
Saturday (2/19/11) morning a few of us met to put up markers on the new section of the trail and traverse the old section to make sure it was marked well enough. (Imagine our embarrassment when Dennis April got lost in there a couple of years back.) Bill Amadon and Katharine Preston and a couple of other folks started at the east end and Richard and I snowshoed the long uphill trek up Cook Road to start at the West end. The snow was deep, but had formed a significant crust over the top. We followed the tracks of a wild turkey who from the look of it had been struggling mightily in the deep snow, post-holing a good 6-inches in the ski track.
When we finally found the other end of the trail, we were dismayed to see that someone had pulled off all out survey tags marking the new trail. We had a vague sense of where the trail started across the street from the Boquet trailhead, but just to play it safe, we snowshoed in about 30 feet to where we could clearly see the new trail before starting to hammer up markers. There was a brief debate at first about what the right level was for the markers -- as the snow was at least 2 feet deep. We didn't want the markers too high. But we agreed on eye level and soon got into the swing of it, with me pulling out markers and nails and Richard hammering them up.
As we covered more ground, breaking trail the whole way, the going got more difficult for me. I was breaking through every third or forth step into the deep snow underneath. I could never tell when it would happen and several times it threw me off enough to send me face first into the powder. I give Richard credit for not laughing as I wallowed around trying to right myself. (He, notably, did not fall once.)
We kept expecting to meet up with the other group, but by the time we hit the main tracked part of the Beaver Flow Trail, we still hadn't seen them. We kept on, bolstered by the broken trail and lovely woods. We slid through the icy notch, adding markers to the skimpier areas as we went. Somewhere in there one of my snowshoes snagged on a sapling and the binding pulled free. Not good. I took it off and immediately sank in the snow to above the knee. It would be a long, difficult trek out and I was already pretty played by the earlier rolls in the snow. Richard took off one of his snowshoes and handed it to me. I put it on, feeling a tad guilty, but knowing he could get out of anywhere snowshoes or not. But he didn't need to because the next thing I knew he set about removing straps from his pack and working feverishly like some mad elf until he had cobbled together a working binding that would hold him for the rest of the hike out. (These small miracles don't even surprize me anymore...)
We trudged on, hung markers and finally came to the stream, that was flooded and ominously wider than its summer flow. The usually crossing was impossible. So, that was why the other group never met us. They couldn't get across the stream. I thought of the LONG trek back. No way. We looked down stream and then up. There was a tree down a little ways upstream that might work.
I am not all that thrilled about log crossings in the summer, let along on snowshoes above an icy flow in the winter. But the thought of the long trek back around drove me to heights of new bravery. I watched Richard make his way across easily (of course) even with catching the clippers sticking out of his pack on a branch and having to do a mid-log maneuver to free them. From the other side he looked back at me. I stepped up on the log. It was snow-covered and slippery. I grabbed a striped maple that conveniently leaned over the top of me for balance. Richard instructed me to shuffle sideways, which seemed to work pretty well. I was almost across before I looked up and almost toppled off backward, but Richard put out a steadying hand and I leaped off into the powder whole and dry.
From there we quickly made our way back to Cook Street. There was no need to post more markers and after 3 hours, we were ready to head home for hot drinks. We talked about a bridge for that spot and made a tentative plan to come back and build one next summer if Chris and Jamie agreed. All in all a great new addition to the Champlain Area Trails and a fun little adventure for us.
Safe travels,
Sheri
