Skylight, Gray, and Lake Tear of the Clouds

Ever since I heard of Lake Tear of the Clouds I've hoped that I would see it someday. Not only does it have a beautiful name, but it is the highest source of the mighty Hudson River. At 4300 feet Lake Tear is nestled between the giants Marcy, Gray, and Skylight, and requires a round-trip hike of about 16 miles to reach it. I had been pondering my next hike for days, and then on a whim Wednesday morning I decided to buy a new overnight pack and head into the woods to finally see this famous lake and climb the giants around it.

View from Lake Arnold pass

I chose this route as my next adventure because I was unable to find any hiking partners this week, and from what I read both Gray and Skylight don't have any technical rock faces to ascend, so I thought I'd be fairly safe climbing them solo. I set out from the Loj at 3pm, a little later than I planned, toward the Feldspar lean-to about 6 miles in from the Loj. The shortest route to Feldspar was via Lake Arnold, which I had just been to on my way to Colden a few weeks before. I had forgotten how much elevation gain there was to get to the 3800 feet high lake, but fortunately once I got to the lake the next 2 miles were downhill. The trail between Lake Arnold and Feldspar lean-to is one that few people take, which is a shame because it is a gorgeous stretch of trail. The area around Lake Arnold is a lush green forest of balsams, sphagnum moss, ferns, and wildflowers, it almost feels like you're walking through a rain forest. About .3 miles past the lake you come to the top of the pass to an area of blowdown, where over the downed trees you can see mountains 100 miles to the south. In the late day light these distant mountains were glowing in the otherwise grayish landscape, as rain was beginning to fall. After descending the pass to about 3300 feet the trail traverses a series of lush wet meadows, where decrepit bridges make it difficult to keep your feet dry. Many of the bridges sank below the water as I stepped on them, making me grateful for my tall waterproof leather boots. I managed to keep my feet dry, but by the time I reached this point in the trail a steady rain had begun to fall, and the rest of me was starting to get wet. I reached the lean-to at 6pm, a little wet and desperate for shelter, to find that I would have company for the evening. Two other solo hikers, Dan from Buffalo and Dan from Boulder, CO, were already curled up in their sleeping bags watching the rain fall but quickly made room for me to join them. Also in the lean-to was Pia, also from Boulder, a large black mixed breed dog that rivaled many black bears in size, who I knew would keep us and all our food safe (though we all had the required bear-proof canisters a little extra insurance never hurts). After a few hours of conversation about Colorado and the Adirondacks we finally fell asleep to the sound of the rain, which continued until at least midnight. I fell asleep wondering how wet the trails would be in the morning, and whether I'd have to swim across those log bridges to get back to Lake Arnold.

I awoke to a chilly morning but thankfully the rain had stopped and the sun was about to peek over the

Lake Tear of the Clouds

mountains. We were all slow to start, not wanting to leave the warmth of our sleeping bags, but I finally said good-bye to my night companions and set out onto the trail at 8:30. After a restless night of sleep I was moving very slowly up the trail to Lake Tear, which climbed almost instantly from the lean-to, ascending 1000 feet in 1.5 miles. I was relieved to reach the lake, and in awe at how simply beautiful it was with the blue sky reflecting in the still water. I lingered there for a little while, enjoying a second breakfast, before crossing the lake's outlet to begin my ascent of Gray Peak. Gray is one of the "trailless" peaks, but the herd path was fairly easy to follow. Thanks to the rain the trail was very slick in spots, and being on my own I went very slowly to avoid any mishaps. There were two challenging sections of trail--one rock face that it took me a bit to get down but was easy to climb up, and another rock face that I thought was going to defeat me until I saw a herd path around it. Aside from those two sections it was a straight-forward hike to the top, where a large boulder offers a clear view to the northwest, and Marcy and Skylight can be seen over the trees in the other directions. After a short time on the summit I was joined by another solo hiker who nonchalantly exclaimed that Gray is his 46th peak, which was pretty exciting! I wished I had some celebratory champagne, or even a chocolate bar, but all I could offer was my congratulations. I was thankful that he decided to join me in hiking back down the mountain, as the wet trail was a bit precarious to descend. On the way down I had a great look at a lingering Bicknell's Thrush, which I pointed out to my companion and much bird conversation flowed from there. We parted ways at Lake Tear, as he was off to climb back over Marcy and I was off to climb Skylight.

View of Skylight from Gray Peak

Mt Marcy from Skylight

I did Gray first because I wanted to save the best for last that day, and I figured Skylight would be easier. It turned out that Skylight was MUCH easier, and far more spectacular at the top. It took me almost an hour to hike the .5 miles to Gray's summit, but the .5 mile trail to Skylight took me 20 minutes. It was an easy steady walk up a streambed that eventually opens up at the treeline to reveal a beautiful open summit of bare rock and alpine vegetation that offers a 360 degree view that I think rivals any other peak in the Adirondacks. When I reached the top I was exhilarated by the view, by the alpine plants around me, and by the fact that I had this amazingly beautiful place in the world all to myself. At the very top of the peak is a large pile of rocks that were placed there by hikers as part of a tradition that bringing a rock to the summit brings good weather, and I realized I forgot to bring one. I snapped dozens of photos in all directions, taking time to admire so many of the mountains I have already climbed. Marcy looms just to the north, with the distinct summit of Haystack just below it. You can see the entire Great Range, the southern Adirondacks, the McIntyres, the backside of Colden, Giant and Whiteface off in the distance, in fact I wonder if there's a single high peak that can't be seen from Skylight's 4,926 foot summit. The summit itself has a carpet of alpine shrubs and a few patches of Alpine grasses, and enough nooks in the rocks to provide some shelter from the wind. I enjoyed solitude on the summit until I started to lose feeling in my fingers from the cold and wind, and then reluctantly headed back down to begin the 8 mile trek back to the Loj.

The summit of Skylight looking south

After 18 miles of hiking, during 12 of which I had to carry a fully loaded backpack, I was pretty well exhausted for the last few miles of the hike, but ever since my Allen hike my threshold for pain and exhaustion seems to have increased. Plus the exhilaration of finally seeing Lake Tear of the Clouds, of climbing the tricky spots on Gray, and enjoying solitude on Skylight, was completely worth being tired and sore. Hiking alone was a nice change of pace, there's something so calming about hiking so many miles without seeing another soul, you become much more in tune with what's around you. I couldn't help but think that my hike couldn't have worked out more perfectly, as I found kind companions for the parts of the hike that scared me the most--sleeping alone in the dark and descending Gray's slippery rocks--yet was able to enjoy solitude the rest of the time. As I reflected on my journey I decided it was the best day of hiking I'd ever had, and that Skylight had risen to the top of my list as my new favorite mountain.

A panoramic view from Skylight looking north