Sawteeth Mountain Solitude

The peak of fall colors on Columbus Day from Owl's Head Mt

This time of year is not my favorite. While autumn tops most northeastern people's list of favorite seasons, it sits near the bottom of mine (right above winter). Sure, it's a lovely season, and this year's colors were phenomenal, but as the precursor to a long season of snow, cold, and darkness, I just can't love it. I'm a sun lover, and the more sun there is the happier I am. Last winter I thought of buying one of those indoor UV lights that emulate the sun to see if it bettered my mood. Then I opted to take a cruise to the Caribbean instead. As the days grow shorter my mood changes and I spend more time indoors, which started happening when we had a bout of bad weather two weeks ago. Daylight savings this weekend could have been the doom of me, but this year I'm fighting back. On the first day of ridiculously early darkness I climbed Street and Nye, on a sunny but cool day. Yesterday I awoke before sunrise and climbed Sawteeth, and in this hike I realized that the one redeeming quality of the cold and dark months is solitude.

Sun peaking through the cliffs over Lower Ausable Lake.
 Sawteeth Mtn. is on the right

When I arrived at the Lake Road parking area I was the only car in sight. At the trail register I was the first one to sign in for the morning. I arrived at Lower Ausable Lake an hour or so later, just in time to watch the sun rise over the eastern cliffs above the lake. The entire hike was silent but for the almost constant call of Pine Siskins overhead, a species from boreal Canada that only comes into the U.S. every 2-3 winters, and this year they are arriving in record numbers. They sound a lot like a flock of the more common American Goldfinch, but with a buzzy zeeeeEET call that distinguishes them as siskins. The highlight of my ascent occurred about 3/4 of the way up where the forest had mostly transitioned to balsam fir, when I heard a pair of Brown Creepers calling. A little pishing brought the creepers to a tree just a few feet away, and then they were joined by 3 Boreal Chickadees. Hands down Boreal Chickadees are my favorite bird, and seeing them is the highlight of most of my high peak ascents. I tried feebly to snap some pictures to share, but I didn't have my telephoto lens with me so my pictures were unsuccessful. They are quite adorable, though, brown where a black-capped chickadee is black, and often just as friendly. They rarely stick around for long, though, so I was soon on my way.

Some steep icy pitches to contend with near the summit.

Shortly after the much-needed bird distraction I arrived at the trail junction to Gothics via Pyramid. I've always wanted to climb Gothics, so this junction was tempting, but Sawteeth is the more reasonable choice for icy November. The ADK guide describes the trail to Sawteeth after this junction as being mostly level, with one steep pitch with poor footing. The sign at the junction tells me that this is impossible, as I still have 500 feet to climb. Sure enough the trail continues to climb and I encounter 3 steep pitches, one of which is coated in ice and puts my microspikes to brief use. The 3rd pitch is the trickiest, and I dread having to descend it later. The consolation to these steep pitches is the incredible view of Gothic's bare rock slides looming over me as you get closer to the summit. The trail does level off after this bit and is a lovely walk through stunted balsams and alpine grasses, complete with one more Boreal Chickadee calling. The summit is mostly surrounded by trees except for one rocky outcropping which offers an unbelievable view of Gothics and the rest of the Great Range, with Marcy peeking out just behind these picturesque peaks. The sun is shining bright but a small group of clouds clings to Marcy, clouds that will roll in and steal the sun shortly after my ascent. Fortunately I snap numerous pictures while the sky is still blue, and then a few more when it turns to gray.

The Great Range including Saddleback, Basin, and Gothics from the summit of Sawteeth.

I settle down on the summit to eat and rest, taking in the view and the incredible feeling that being alone on a mountaintop brings. It occurs to me that not only do I have the entire peak of Sawteeth to myself, but that I could quite possible have the entire great range to myself on this late autumn day. It occurs to me that maybe fall isn't such a bad season, as once a little snow and ice falls on the peaks it weeds out the majority of high peaks hikers. Until my purchase of microspikes just last week I was one of the people who would have been weeded out. My persistence in continuing to climb as late as I can this year is rewarded by solitude and silence. In between gusts of wind I relish the sound of absolute silence, something that is increasingly difficult to find in this world. The silence is broken only once by a flock of White-winged Crossbills, another boreal species that sometimes visits in the winter. I am fortunate that one stops by for a moment on a perch just above me for admiration, a rare sight. The worst part of climbing the high peaks is having to leave the place you worked so hard to get to so soon.
 
My feeling of solitude continues for the entire walk back to the trail register. When I sign out I see that other hikers came in after me, but they all headed to peaks on the eastern side of the lake, so I was in fact alone. I suppose its possible that there was a hiker or two somewhere on the great range that came in on a different route, but I like to think that it was just me. That is one thing that wouldn't be possible on a warm summer's day, making me appreciate fall just a little bit more.