It was a crisp Saturday morning and I had it in my head that I was going to do this loop. I was going to make the 3 hour trip and walk the near ten miles. So, with little planning as well as some sandwiches, I put my trip in the hands of the GPS. Though it took me on several different roads and give different tolls that both seemed unnecessary, it eventually got me there.

The parking lot had few cars in it and so after paying the $10 fee, I grabbed my water and began walking. The parking lot did nothing to allude to the conditions of the trail ahead. It was the only place in the park that didn’t see you walking on snow and ice.

The minute I made it to the trailhead, the path was covered in ice molded footprints. I’m not sure if you’ve ever walked on that, but it is quite awkward. Not only did you have to be careful not to twist your foot in the frozen ovals that were once snowy footprints, but you had the addition of the chance of having your feet slip from beneath you with each step. The fact that the trail inclines and winds as you move upward made it extra interesting and several times I had my foot slide and just barely kept myself upright; the fear of sliding dozens of feet back downwards, and hitting each frozen footstep like riding a washboard, stuck being in the front of my thoughts.

It was an extremely windy day and so at the first outlook (and every one thereafter) the blustery cold gave you just minutes to enjoy the vast view of mountains and trees. Your eyes tearing, nose running, and, if you dare, the feeling of near frostbite in the few seconds you might take our your phone or camera to take a picture. You might ask, “Didn’t you have gloves?” The answer is yes, but you can’t well use your cell phone or camera buttons with the lack of dexterity the gloves brought to the table in that regard.

The entire trail was that way, icy footprints from those who must have traveled when the snow was new and before it melted and froze over. It made walking treacherous and you never knew whether your foot was going to sink in to give you that little bit of grip as you walked the narrow trail and down rocks, or you were going to put your foot down and have it slide in this direction or that as you did your best moves to stay vertical. It stayed that way for the first three miles of the trail until you make it to the Verkeerder Kill Falls.

Trying to cross the falls was where I first slipped before using a branch in the water to aid in my move across the water. On the other side, I did my best to stay on the rocks where the snow had melted off a bit so as to avoid as much slipping as possible. It was a great view but did not want to take my usual pictures anywhere near the edge when there is ice.

Moving along, to my surprise and delight, I saw no more footprints on the path beyond the falls. Everyone must have went there and turned back and so I was making my own path and the first one to go after the snow. However, the excitement was short lived. It took but a minute or two after walking the trail to find out that what looked like a soft, snowy path was in fact more like a path of an ice rink. Walking along I looked ahead to admire the beauty of the untouched trail when my feet went out from under me and I bruised my backside. This made my thoughts for the rest of the trail a bit cautious, especially on any incline where my foot slipping got my heart pounding and my desire to step on anything but the untouched path paramount.

This caution lasted the entire trail and was never more nerve wracking than when walking the parts of the trail that had you stepping but mere feet from the edge of the ridge. These sections, usually my favorite part of the trail due to the excitement and views, were something I wanted nothing more but to avoid in these ice laden conditions where you never knew whether it was grip or slip with each foot placement.

Doing the trail alone had its own added peculiarities in that I heard noises I couldn’t place and likely wouldn’t have noticed with company. It made the hair on the back of my neck stand up each time and to say I was on alert the whole four hours was an understatement.

Given the fear 🙂 and temperature, I never walked so fast at times. Despite the ice, I actually kept a pace overall that would rival the trek in even spectacular conditions. Plus, the icy wind kept me from wanting to stop and there was no one there to take your mind off of the noises or cold. I, even, wanted to take a short video to show everyone, but when reaching the overlooks and High Point, the numbing wind prevented me from staying for but a few moments. I had to do my best to keep my back to half the view as the pain from any part of your skin that might enter the path of the wind was a hindrance.

Subsequently, and I’m not sure if it was the cold that clouded my judgement, but I started to try a path that had been closed for a long time. I saw the sign for the Indian Rock trail and decided to give it a try. It’s only .6 miles each way. Doesn’t sound like much but considering I had just walked for 9 miles already having to put extra effort into each step to try and break through the icy upper layer of the snow, it was a stretch and I even thought about it for a minute. However, I ended up turning back and going down the path. I didn’t make it but maybe 100 feet when I attempted to avoid some icy footprints on the path, stepping slightly to the side and not realizing off the wooden log path. In this second, both feet sank into icy running water. It took a second for me to realize what had happened and in that moment the path was once again something that had to remain on the future try list.

For the remainder of the three mile walk back to the parking lot from High Point, I did my best to stay off the ice and on the sections of the trail where there was snow and no footprints. The sun having been out by now had time to soften some of the path but one still would have to be completely careful of where they stepped.

It was a completely exhausting experience and one that I’m proud to say I attacked and accomplished. I can’t wait to do it again. This time avoiding stepping in any streams.

Strength, desire, and perseverance.

-Chris & Ola