This weekend we spent a much needed weekend in the Catskills. It was fun visiting the beach the last few months, Montauk is lovely, but my heart is in the mountains. As soon as we arrived, I felt like I was home. After leaving the city Friday during a 100-degree heatwave and an hour-long ride just to get out of Manhattan, we reached the Catskills. There were scattered thunderstorms throughout the New York area, so we drove in and out of passing rain clouds, but as we reached Woodstock, it looked like the storms had passed and the sun was coming out over the mountains. We stopped at Woodstock Brewing for my favorite IPA, Baby Dragon, and their Thai chicken sandwich. As we were sitting by the window just chilling, a bald eagle flew past the mountain. Everyone got up to look. I knew it was going to be a magical weekend. We arrived at the Spruceton Inn just as the happy hour in Room One was coming to a close. The sun was setting and the outside firepit was going. We went in and said hello to Casey, the innkeeper and author of the book The Fountain, and had a drink. Later, we went outside to sit by the fire, made some new friends, and after everyone began to head home, we sat by the fire by ourselves, enjoying the cool mountain air and listening to the quiet.
The next morning we woke up early and were on the Spruceton Trail before 7:30 am. It was humid and dewy, a typical east coast summer morning. But there were no bugs, even by the water, which surprised me. The first mile felt great. It’s mostly flat, and I felt nice and cool. But as the trail began its ascent, we were warming up and the humidity was thick. The sun started to come out from behind the clouds, creating the most beautiful light. We stopped for a while and took it all in, watching the misty clouds pass through the ethereal beams of sunlight. It was magical. Any thoughts of turning around were gone, and we kept going despite the heavy, humid air. There were so many mushrooms on the trail. I took lots of photos with both my Lumix and my phone. They were such cute, magical little things, each one of them with their own unique colors and textures, giving them each their own personality. It felt good to reconnect with the woods again. We then reached the halfway point where the hike really begins to climb. We had no rush and no pressure, so we decided to keep going for as long as we felt comfortable. As we climbed in elevation, we felt the cool mountain breeze and the temperature dropped by a few degrees. The trail was pretty rugged from all the rain, but we kept on climbing. We reached the junction for the John Robb lean-to and decided to take the spur trail to check it out. A short climb down some large boulders and we were there. There was no one in the lean-to, so we dropped our packs and hiked down to the viewpoint between the trees overlooking West Kill Mountain and the surrounding Catskills. The smell of spruce was amazing. We sat on the rocks alone without another soul for at least 30 or 45 minutes. I lay down for a minute on the big boulders to watch the clouds roll through the sky and time seemed to stop. Everything slowed down and a feeling of peace and contentment washed over my body. The mountains do that to you; make you forget any troubles and wash away any heaviness you may be carrying, even if just for a moment. When we were ready to carry on, we decided to keep going to the fire tower. At the 3,500-foot marker, the forest changed from hardwoods to those gorgeous, aromatic spruce trees. There is nothing else like it. I really can’t put it into words. Every place we visit has its own unique beauty, and the sight and scent of these forests are something I will take with me forever. As we hiked, more mushrooms abounded. I even saw some ghost pipes sprouting out from the vibrant green moss that covered the forest floor. Finally, we reached the tower. There were some other hikers already there enjoying the summit and climbing the tower. Then a group of happy young people arrived, most of them wearing street clothes. They had brought a picnic with them. They sat down in the grass, chatting amongst themselves and laughing something about watermelon. It warms my heart to see people enjoying the outdoors and nature regardless of whether or not they are seasoned hikers, or just there to enjoy a picnic. Clouds were rolling by, and I knew that at some point we’d get an afternoon storm. We climbed the tower for the views and, afterwards, made our way back down the mountain. As we descended, you could feel the temperature getting warmer and the humidity was thick again. When we arrived back at the trailhead, we drove back to the Inn and decided to clean up before heading out to West Kill Brewery up the road. The sun was still out, but I could see it starting to rain and the clouds were darkening. Then the storm came. Thunder, lightning, it was beautiful; the sound of thunder echoing through the mountains. We opened the door and watched it pour. After the storm passed, we made our way over to West Kill. It was the Catskill Book Festival, and there were a lot of people hanging out and having a great time. We had a beer outside, listened to the band play, and watched the remaining clouds roll over West Kill Mountain. We got something to eat and afterwards headed back to the Inn for another night of new friends and happy hour spirits. It was a great day. I slept well.
The next morning we woke up, said hi to Casey, got some coffee and pop tarts, and sat at a picnic table by the stream. We walked around the Inn looking at the wildflowers and the butterflies and listening to the West Kill. This visit was just as magical as our last one, and it was difficult to leave and go back to the city. I know the mountains are where I feel most at home. I feel safe here in the trees, with the plants, animals, and embrace of the surrounding wilderness. I’m already planning our next visit.
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