Originally published in the Albany Times Union
Sometimes the map speaks to me.
For years, my map spoke about a thru-ski of the Pharaoh Lake Wilderness in the eastern Adirondacks. Every winter it snowed, every winter I heard what the map said, but every winter I did something else.
Every winter until this one.
The Pharaoh Lake Wilderness is a big, beautiful hunk of peaks and ponds north of Brant Lake and east of Schroon Lake. There are two classic skis in the Pharaoh Lake Wilderness. One, near the northern wilderness border into Crane Pond, my wife, Gillian, wrote about two winters ago. The other, on the southern border of the wilderness, is into the southern outlet of Pharaoh Lake.
My plan was to super-size those two trips. Ski into Crane Pond, then head south through the interior of the Pharaoh Lake Wilderness to Pharaoh Lake and then out to the southern wilderness border near Mill Brook.
The trip would be perfect to spot a car if I went with other people. Sadly though, sometimes I’m the only one who hears what the map has to say (I know, I know, psychologists have a word for that.)
So with no skiing partner, I decided to bike the 16 miles from the southern trailhead to the Crane Pond trailhead and then ski back to my car (I know, I know, psychologists might have a word for that also.)
Just past dawn, I used bungees to combine two things I love – my skis and my bike - and began. A few minutes later, the sun greeted me as I journeyed through the small town of Adirondac. I snagged a muffin at the General Store on the way.
I found beauty in a silent ride through winter woods. Flocks of red crossbills sat undisturbed while I admired their fancy paint jobs and trademark hooked bills.
Leaving the shore of Schroon Lake, the road climbed and the skis and pack were heavy but there is a time to earn the journey. I signed in at the trail register, locked my bike to a tree and switched to skis.
There were tracks but no people as I reached the sun-kissed expanse of Crane Pond. I crossed the bubbling outlet and then went deeper into the wilderness.
Coyote tracks on Glidden Marsh linked small pockets of open water. Past the scenic marsh, I knew the trail would be unbroken until Pharaoh Lake, as skiers rarely ventured on these trails. The solo miles worried Gillian and were why I carried a bivy sack.
A few minutes into my trail-breaking there was movement behind me - the coyote!
Not the coyote, but another skier. Not just another skier, but a skiing ranger!
“Are you the guy with the bike?” Ranger Marie asked.
I copped to the charge and wondered if I’d violated an ordinance about being a lunkhead.
Ranger Marie was on patrol to Pharaoh Lake and I had someone to share trail-breaking. You never know how your day will go.
To the east, Treadway Mountain was visible from small ponds that lined the trail. The route, which isn’t a designated ski route, did a passable impression of one until a quarter mile north of Pharaoh Lake, where the trail dropped steeply.
“Skiable” could mean “ski the whole thing” or “ski most of it and walk a little.” I walked a little, I’ll admit . I said my farewell to Ranger Marie, skied to a rocky point and ate lunch with the sun and the lake and the mountains.
As at Glidden Marsh, coyote tracks lined the surface of Pharaoh Lake. Like the coyote, I would have headed out across the lake. Unlike the coyote, I’d promised my wife I wouldn’t ski across the lake unless there were other people around.
So I skied the western shore of Pharaoh Lake through fresh powder. I took off my skis and climbed over some fallen trees but also made sweet downhill runs.
Near Kings Point, the sun and trees became art. Behind me, the sun found some magical angle to spread a soft, dappled light on a family of pine trees and I had to stop and pay homage. You can go out seeking tranquility but you won’t find it, because it finds you.
There were finally set ski tracks at the outlet to Pharaoh Lake and I followed them in a fast, fun ride to Mill Brook toward my waiting car. The trip was hard and goofy but also my own. I don’t know who I’d be if I didn’t do trips like this, if I didn’t listen to the map.