Estimated mileage: 16.7 miles.
Estimated total ascent: 3500 feet
Total trip time: 11h30
Total ADK-46 peaks thus far: 25

I don't know if this trip was ill-conceived or not. First of all, it was the first time that I planned on ascending high peaks solo. I did plan out the route (and backup route) before leaving home and made sure that people knew the intended routes. In knowing that these peaks were the furtherest from home for me, I planned to snag one of the half-dozen or so secretly free DEC campsites along Coreys Rd. so that I could get a very early start. So far, this sounds like the perfect trip, right?

The intended route was to take the Calkins Road to the Calkins Brook herd path, crest Donalson, head over to Emmons, then return over Donaldson to peak Seward and head down the back side to the very flat and simple Ward Brook Trail. Not returning via Calkins would shave about a half mile off of the trip and would even have lean-tos in case I direly needed one. Somewhere around here, we step off of perfect trip and into the proverbial "what could go wrong?" scenario.

The preceding night was about eight hours of rain-interrupted sleep. When I finally did wake, a drizzle was still going, but not for too long. On the way to the trailhead parking, I managed to catch a weather prediction for the area—likely showers with a chance of thunderstorms in the afternoon. I figured that if I only got Donaldson and Emmons before being chased off of the mountain, I could always come back for Seward leaving from Ward Brook Lean-to. (More on this later). The Calkins Brook herdpath made for one of the easiest ascents that I've ever done. From trailhead at 7:00am, I was 6.8 miles out atop Donaldson by 10:30am (and that included a 15-minute brunch and water filtration at around 3200'). Wow! I spent aound 15 minutes here take pictures and trying to determine what the weather would eventually be doing. It looked like it would clear up.

From there, I visited Emmons – 60 minutes to get to the peak (slower than planned, the trail was very wet), 10 minutes for hanging around, and 60 minutes back. Without stopping, I continued past towards Seward.

At some point, having descended so far, I had doubted that I was heading the right way. However, I recalled that the path would travel "more or less on a compass line" I was not to be disappointed as I neared the summit; the climb up the rock face was beautiful.

So, for such a beautiful hike so far, what could possibly so wrong? For starters, as I summited Seward (precisely at 2:00pm), a misty cloud rolled in at elevation. The day which had started to become sunny now seemed as if it could rain again, and soon. Then, continuing on the north side of Seward seemed to take forever. In fact, it practically did.

I was surprised to see the herd path travel continue for as long as it had along the ridge line. The path was very overgrown, lending itself to the belief that few people had even taken this path at all. I had even wondered if perhaps I had accidentally found an informal path to the Oulaska Pass. Soon, the nearly invisible path would include a number of steep drops, the climbing of which I couldn't possibly imagine (although there was a green blaze on two of them, so they must be right). The going was slow and tedious at first.

Despite these serious drops, it seemed as if I wasn't descending fast enough. No sooner had I pondered that than the first roll of thunder came from the south. As I continued on, the path finally veered due north towards the creek that it was to parallel. However, as it did so, the path at times did in fact become invisible. I can't recall the number of times that I actually lost the path and had to sway back and fro on an elevation line to recover it. As this happened, the rain storm finally broke, though without any more thunder. Soon after finding a creek rolling down a flat rock face on my right, I found myself trailless and trapped on a promontory between it and another, more gushing creek. It seemed that the best option was cross the gushing creek, by using overhanging branches for leverage and a fallen wedged tree trunk to walk across – all other options included reascending by about 75'. After that, I simply bushwhacked through the dense evergreens, scraping my shins and calves several times, and avoiding massive sinkholes with many of my steps. After descending approximately 100', with the newly combined creek was at my right, I caught a glimpse of the herd path again, on the opposite bank of the creek. Luckily I was able to use the stones here to make it across. The rain was still teeming, and several more times, the herd path was exchanged for a best guess. The rate of progress was extremely slow.

With the new rain coming down (despite its letting up), and with the rain of the previous two nights, everything that could be muddy was. Also, it was at this point that my boots finally gave into being soaked. Eventually, as the density of evergreens thinned, the herd path would become more apparent when it was visible (although it would continue to get lost altogether several more times!) Now, the inhibiting agent for my descent was the mud and the number of times that I would slip, slide, or outright come crashing to the ground. Quite a number of times, a foot was entirely lost to mud, once even reaching the base of my knee!

What should have been a simple 2.1 mile extraction to the Ward Brook trail took two-and-a-half hours. I did stop along the way (with about a half mile to go) to fill up my water bottles using the filter. I also took what would amount to dinner at this time. (I did not count these 15 minutes towards the extraction time.)

Finally, I arrived at the Ward Brook trail, usually a favorite, only to find that it was just as muddy as the lower Seward trail. I had been hoping for a relatively fast 4.7 miles back to parking. Instead, much of this walk was spent negotiating how not to slip or fall (although I did take two spills on a flat trail here!). To boot, the rain storm opened up again, this time with a bit more vengeance. The trail was excruciatingly long compared to my memories of it. I finally exited at 6:30pm, soaked from head to toe despite my poncho, and luckily I soon had the parking lot to myself so that I could strip down completely in order to towel off and put on dry clothing. It was at this time that I realized that the moisture had deeply chafed my inner thighs and that the bottoms of my feet had been pruned almost to the point of rupturing the skin there.

Overall, I can say that I've never had a hike with so many technical difficulties. I am happy, however, to report that except for my frustrations with all of the mudslides, I was able to keep just enough spirits to maintain a pleasant disposition about it all. Psychologically speaking, this hike was a major victory for me which I hope to never have to experience again.

Morning after report: Mild aches from the chaffing, scratches, and cuts. Even less aching from muscles and lower back (although I did have the later strecthed out in a massage). Actually, the muscles most inconvenienced are in my shoulders when I stretch out my wingspan (likely due to the amount of armwork in not falling even more often!)