WILMINGTON — In a recent interview with a regional outdoor magazine, Leslie Karasin, head of the Adirondack Wildlife Conservation Society, said “though I love many places in the backcountry, I cherish the more accessible places just as much,” when asked about her favorite hikes.
I couldn’t agree more.
Whether it’s a morning ski on the Jackrabbit Trail, an afternoon stroll up Cobble Hill, or an evening paddle on Mirror Lake during the warmth of summer, the joy of living in the Adirondacks goes far beyond the remote wilderness, or the 46 highest peaks in the state. There’s not always time for week-long backpacking trips or hiking all day to ski down a hidden slide, but opportunities are still right outside our doorstep — more accessible places to enjoy the outdoors whenever there’s a free moment.
My car buckled down state Route 86 toward Wilmington on Tuesday afternoon, past a quiet, frozen section of the Ausable River. The sun beamed down from the center of a cloudless sky, and I couldn’t wait to get away, into the woods, if only for an hour or two.
Last summer, while riding through Wilmington’s Flume Trail System on a mountain bike, I took notice of the Flume Knob trail — a two mile climb up to a rocky ledge overlooking the Ausable River Valley. But, at the time, I didn’t check it out: “No bicycles allowed.” Instead, I stored it away, a trail to explore another time.
That time came Tuesday. I pulled into the dirt parking lot just past the Hungry Trout Restaurant on the westbound side of the road. Sitting in my car, I could see the sunlight dancing and shifting across the fast-moving river down below.
I signed in, and began my way up the trail with a pair of snowshoes strapped squarely to my back. The snow-pack was solid enough to hold my weight, but if I stepped just a few inches off the trail I would punch through up to my thighs; still plenty of snow on the ground.
A favorite spot of locals for years, the Flume Trail Network was officially opened in the spring of 2009 as one of the only places in the state Forest Preserve specifically designed for mountain biking. In the winter, however, the trails make for great snowshoeing and cross-country skiing.
The section of trail rising up to the Flume Knob takes a gradual climb for the first mile, with encouraging signage marking your progress nearly every tenth of a mile along the way. (This also makes the trail very easy to find.)
The second mile is less forgiving. After walking through the woods for a while, whistling and wearing only an old pair of hiking boots, the trail took a nasty turn — straight up. The whistling turned to huffing, and I quickly decided to strap on snowshoes when my boots began slipping and breaking through the deep snow.
Long shadows stretched across the trail as I climbed steadily upward. A gurgling brook sounded off in a nearby gully. My lungs and legs ached despite frequent rests — for water, beef jerky, maybe a taste of snow — and I was sweating so bad I had to lose a layer.
Nevertheless, the last mile went by quickly and I soon found myself looking out over dizzying views, approaching a small rocky ledge: the Flume Knob.
After a sandwich, more water, a long pee, and staring out over the town of Wilmington, Quaker Mountain and the tall cliffs of Wilmington Notch, I was ready to slip back down the steep trail toward my car.
The way down went by quickly, and before leaving I took a stroll down to the Ausable River. Massive ice chunks were gathered on either side of the river as it tumbled through the flume: “Not quite ready for a swim,” I thought. “A couple more months.”
