Susan and I decided to take a 5-week hiatus from traveling north to New Hampshire, so I have been fulfilling my hiking requirements here in CT. Although the day hikes were ok, I needed something a little more strenuous so I called a friend of mine and asked if he wanted to do an overnight in Washington State Forest in southwestern MA. He quickly agreed so we made plans to go the weekend of November the 16th. Little did we realize that a little nor'easter was about to make its presence known.

Not wanting to seem like a wuss, I decided to go regardless of what the local weather forecasters were predicting. After all, we were big burly men and a little snow/rain certainly wasn't going to deter us from our God given right to go backpacking. In John's defense, however, I have to say he did call me Friday night and suggest we might want to rethink our plans or at least reschedule our little trip for a weekend that didn't call for the total destruction of the northeast. In any event, I tried to reassure him that weather forecasters were usually wrong 50% of the time and we had nothing to worry about.

We arrived at the Washington State Forest Headquarters around 9:00am Saturday morning. It was slightly drizzling while we getting our packs ready, yet not enough to give us pause. We brought our daypacks with us just in case we decided not to do the overnight and wanted just a little exercise. I quickly pointed out that if the weather broke, as I was hoping it would, we might kick ourselves for not taking our full packs. Besides, our backpacks had all our survival gear so in case by some fluke of nature the weather forecasters were actually correct, we were prepared for the worst, therefore we left our daypacks behind and headed out towards Mt Alander.

Within the first hour and a half we reached the fire warden's cabin located between the north and south peaks of Mt Alander and stopped for lunch. By now the drizzle had turned to snow and covered the trail with a nice soft blanket of white. After lunch we headed south along the South Taconic trail, which was tough going because the trail was poorly marked and heavily overgrown from years of neglect. In fact, the designer garbage bags we used for our pack covers we being ripped to shreds by the thick mountain laurels.

The weather was deteriorating quickly as the snow changed to freezing rain and the wind drastically increased. The trail was hard to follow and the lack of visibility made spotting the occasional trail marker much more difficult. To make a long story short, we somehow made a couple of wrong turns and ended up adding an additional hour to our hike.

By now John's Achilles tendon was causing him pain and coupled with the freezing rain, we were not making much headway. Given our slow pace, we realized that we would probably not reach any of the shelters near Bear Mountain in CT let alone reach Sage's Ravine before nightfall. It was cold, wet, and our navigational skills, or lack there of, were causing us problems.

At this point I was thinking about Ramblers misadventure in the Dry River Wilderness, and not wanting to be the lead story on the evening news, the thoughts of staying overnight had evaporated once we realized that we could be in for some serious trouble if we didn't get off this trail soon. The weather was getting worse and nightfall was rapidly approaching and we still didn't have any idea how far we were from the Mt Washington road. The terrain was so thick with mountain laurels that any thought of setting up two tents did not seem at all a realistic possibly.

We just kept walking and hoping that we would run into some landmark that would tell us where we were. After what seemed like an hour we finally found a state boarder marker. Our initial joy turned to frustrating when the boarder sign read MA/NY and not MA/CT as we were hoping. At this point we knew we were in serous trouble. It was getting dark, the wind and freezing rain was increasing, and we had no hope of reaching a road in the near future. Not wanting to acknowledge, out loud at least, that we totally messed up, we just put our heads down and kept hiking.

Within five minutes we ran into a cross trail that was marked with red blazes. Knowing that the Mt Frissell trail was marked in red and that the trail was heading east towards CT, we knew it had to be the Mt Frissell trail. However, we didn't know where exactly we were on the trail and how far it was to the Mt Washington road. A few minutes later we ran into another state boarder marker and again it said MA/NY, but this time someone had etched the word CT on another side. If true, this was the tri-state boarder, which would place us just west of Mt Frissell. If we were reading the map correctly, we had about a 45-minute hike with just about the same amount of daylight left before reaching the Mt Washington road.

The trail was far better marked than the South Taconic trail, or so we thought. After the trail left the thick undergrowth, all the markers were on the rock face, which is fine in the summer but not in the winter when snow and freezing rain rapidly begins to cover the red blazes. Once we reached the summit, the trail all but disappeared. With the visibility being 20 feet at best we couldn't use anything on the horizon to use as a bearing, so we just had to rely on our map and compass to try and find a trail that was hidden in thick mountain laurels. Twenty minutes and several bushwhacks later we eventually found the trail and darkness was rapidly approaching and we still had a good half hour hike before we would reach the road.

To add to our already escalating problems, the rock face that we had to climb down was now covered in a thick layer of ice that made it almost impossible to navigate. We both fell at least five or six times before eventually reaching the bottom. After what seemed like forever, we finally reached the road as night fell. We were not, however, quite out of the woods yet. Yes we were on a road, but it was dark, the freezing rain had increased, the only tires marks on the road were the ones we had made early in the morning and we were at least three or four miles from our car.

Even though we had the option of setting up our tents at the trailhead to at least escape the elements, we were nonetheless cold, wet, and exhausted and we knew if we set up camp we would be in for a nasty night. I still had a little strength left in my legs so I volunteered to hike the three or four miles to the car while John just waited at the trailhead. Although my stride resembled that of an 80 year-old man with a load in his diapers, I set off as quickly as I could for the car and our eventual salvation.

The road was becoming increasingly slippery by the moment as the freezing rain continued. About a mile down the road I passed a house that had two large dogs that came running out to welcome me. The tone of their bark signaled to me that there were more curious than aggressive and after letting them sniff my hand they became my traveling companions. Finally after what seemed like hours I reach John's car and after scrapping a two-inch thick layer of ice off the windshield I headed back towards the trailhead after loading up the two dogs and returning them safely to their home.

John was still alive but frozen to the bone. I too was a little worse for wear as my legs and feet were throbbing with pain. We quickly headed down the Mt Washington road towards CT, safety, and any pub that would have us.

The next morning as I watched the local news I learned that the northwestern and southwestern parts of CT and MA were covered in ice. Had we not gotten lost and if we actually camped for the night at Sage's Ravine as we had planned, I doubt we would have survived the devastating ice that would have invariably engulfed our tents. In retrospect, it wasn't the brightest trip I have ever planned, but the discussion to abort was by far the smartest decision that I have ever made. I just hope that John doesn't tell his wife the whole story; otherwise I doubt she will allow us to play together anymore.