Summer notes, part 3: High times at High Point

The Old Man's ankles get a workout. The kids walk along with no difficulty. Of course.

Proof that we made it to the top. Even me.

Happy Hikers getting ready for the AT adventure.

Another of our checklist items was a trip to High Point State Park in New Jersey, just over the state line from Port Jervis. Being a Jersey Guy, I have always been intrigued by the very logical nature of High Point. It is the highest point in New Jersey (duh) at 1,803 feet, and it sits squarely at the top of the Garden State. This makes so much sense! Where do you go for the highest point? To the highest point!

Upon arrival at the park office, I asked the very friendly ranger some questions. Basically, we wanted to accomplish two things: 1. Go to the beautiful High Point obelisk (looks like the Washington Monument) at the peak; many of you have probably seen it while driving on I-84. 2. Do some hiking in the many miles of trails in the park. Friendly Park Ranger, in turn, gave us two options: 1. Drive up to the monument (for a per-car fee of $20) and walk the relatively easy trails in and around the summit. 2. Drive down the road about a quarter-mile to the Appalachian Trail (AT) parking lot (key note: This lot is FREE) and hike the AT about 1.5 miles to the monument. This, of course, was a no-brainer. I have a little experience walking the AT in Dutchess County, thanks to my good pal from my newspaper editing days, the fine hiking columnist Ralph “Elvis Trailsley” Ferrusi. Ralph has hiked the AT as a section hiker, twice, he meticulously maintains a section of the trail near his home in Stormville, and he is a resident expert on the AT and all things hiking.

We parked and we headed into the AT woods. Almost immediately, I regretted this decision. The AT trails that Ralph had taken me on in Dutchess County – a hike around Nuclear Lake, the Great Swamp hike near Pawling, and a short jaunt up Shenandoah Mountain to the post-9/11 inspired American flag painted on a rock – were rugged walks, certainly not trails I would take the team on for runs, but not overly hazardous or troublesome either. The section of the AT in High Point was a different story. “Trail” is a loose term for what we walked on (or, in my case, stumbled around on). It was mostly rocks, in some cases big boulders with sheer faces and no real place to get traction. In some spots, it was hand-over-fist climbing (or, in my case, rock crawling). The kids, of course, loved it. Heidi fashioned a hiking stick out of a big branch, and she seemed to be enjoying it as well, snapping pictures of the marvelous views and her excited children (or, in my case, a bumbling idiot trying to avoid broken ankles).

Me? I was a nervous, anxious, joint-bending mess. I’m a risk-averse kind of guy. Rugged, challenging trails are great for many folks. I’d rather a smooth, paved or dirt path, thank you very much. Heck, carrying a load of laundry up the stairs in my house can be an adventure for me. Navigating a barely single track (at best), rock-strewn trail while worrying that my family would get hurt was about as much fun for me as riding a rollercoaster over and over again, or being in a Six Flags Park, or maybe even being at a Hannah Montana concert. You get the idea. After more than an hour of this treachery, I made the pronouncement halfway up to the monument that our return trip would NOT be this rocky mountain high experience. We would be taking the road down the hill; no arguments, no negotiations.  

When we splintered off the AT to the final ascent up to High Point, the trail got very steep but also much easier in terms of footing. Everybody was huffing and puffing and not liking the big hill and the steep grade very much. I was back in my element. Sure footing, hard effort. Goodbye, big rocks. I can do this. I can do this all day! We got to the top, took pictures, chilled out at the top of the Garden State and enjoyed panoramic views of three states in all directions – New York over there, Pennsylvania over there, New Jersey front and center. And yeah, we walked down on the road, back to our car. No one was complaining, the least of which was me.