Chris Gaige, front, and Rob Thomas are seen on Dix Mountain’s north ridgeline in the town of Keene on Sunday, Jan. 18. (News photo — Chris Gaige)

KEENE — Though it sounds hard to believe, if not insane, I kid you not when I say that I find winter hiking in the Adirondacks easier than summer hiking, if — and it’s a big if — conditions are ideal.

A well-packed winter trail avoids stepping around ankle-twisting boulders, slinking up stream beds or plunging through ankle-deep mud, instead allowing hikers to snowshoe along a level trench. It’s like rolling out the red carpet.

Of course, there are probably more caveats to my proclamation than there are trees in the Adirondacks, even if conditions are perfect. I’ll just sum these up by saying that when things go south in the winter, they usually do so much faster than in the summer. Preparation and the right gear are key when venturing into the backcountry, especially this time of year — to state the obvious.

Fortunately, everything that could have gone right did just that when my uncle, Dave Thomas, his brother Rob and I headed into the woods at the Round Pond trailhead alongside state Route 73 on Sunday, Jan. 18 — and boy did we need it. Our destination was Dix Mountain. At 4,857 feet, it’s the sixth-tallest mountain in the state, one spot below Whiteface.

It was one of eight High Peaks I had yet to summit in the winter, and nothing remaining on that list comes easy. We needed all of the breaks we could get, starting with favorable weather — temperatures in the mid 20s, no significant snowfall, no especially windy weather and no recent thaw freeze cycles that would ice things up.

A cluster of signs are seen at the four-way junction between trails to Dix Mountain, Round Pond, Round Mountain and Noonmark Mountain on Sunday, Jan. 18 in the town of Keene. (News photo — Chris Gaige)

Equally as pivotal, we had a well-trodden path that had been packed down by a couple the day before. A couple of days before this, I hiked nearby Macomb Mountain with my cousin. Though it was a fun day, it involved a lot of trail breaking. I shuddered to think of a repeat scenario, given that hike had pushed us to our brink, and the trail to Dix was both longer and steeper. In all likelihood, it would probably have meant turning back.

Knowing how much of a make-or-break this could have been, I scouted out the trail the evening before just to be sure. If the trail showed no signs of activity from the beginning, we would have likely picked a different hike.

Though there were tracks at the trailhead — enough for us to proceed with our original plan — we weren’t out of the woods yet, figuratively. A party noted in the sign-in register that they were hiking Dix, but I figured there distinct possibility that somewhere along the way, they may have been forced to turn around, still potentially leaving a difficult summit push, as almost all of the elevation gain comes in the last section of trail. An added bit of suspense.

The hike

We met at the Round Pond trailhead, located along state Route 73 about five miles north of its intersection with Interstate 87. We triple checked we had all of our gear, locked the cars and were on our way at 7:10 a.m. The trail parallels the highway and climbs sharply at first to lift out of the narrow valley. Looking at Route 73, it was a slower and much less dramatic version of looking out the window of an airplane lifting off a runway on takeoff.

A partial view to the northwest of the slopes between Dial Mountain and Nippletop is seen from the Dix Mountain trail in the town of Keene on Sunday, Jan. 18. (News photo — Chris Gaige)

After the first 0.3 miles, the trail turns right and heads away from Route 73. The roar of traffic quickly diminished, and it truly felt like we were setting into the wilderness. The trail climbed steadily for a bit longer, then dropped back down to Round Pond, offering some views and a good spot for a first break. The trail hooks right around the pond, before beginning another steady climb, gaining 700 feet over the next three-quarters of a mile.

The next portion of the trail is quite level — by High Peak standards — as the trail comes to a four-way junction with trails to Noonmark and Round Mountains. I was pleasantly surprised to see and feel that the traction to Dix didn’t drop off here, as I worried much of the “pack” that we had been enjoying up to that point would vanish with earlier traffic splintering off there. It didn’t, and we pressed on, spirits high.

Leaving that junction, the trail was relatively flat as it followed the Boquet River’s North Fork, coming to a marked campsite and lean-to about 4.5 miles from the trailhead. The serious climbing set in — and we still had a great path to follow.

The trail briefly followed the base of a slide before heading back into the woods. It’s all up from there, climbing about 1,500 vertical feet over the final mile. Though the going was slow, it’s all relative. I thought back to the Macomb hike, taking 10 or so second breaks with every other step up the slide. Comparatively, it felt as if we were moving at the speed of light.

The only folly of the day was an Adirondack classic: a clouded peak. It was a shame, as Dix Mountain, being as high as it is, offers nearly 360-degree views from its summit. Alas, we were just grateful that the winds were docile and the air was just mist, not battering precipitation. You take what you can get.

Rob Thomas looks on just below the cloud deck on Dix Mountain’s north ridgeline in the town of Keene on Sunday, Jan. 18. (News photo — Chris Gaige)

Just like Macomb, the summit stretch of the hike wasn’t without pitfalls. Spruce traps — where hidden pockets of air develop as snow falls around pine bows, creating sink holes when stepped over — were abundant. We picked our steps carefully and soon enough, found ourselves on top of Dix Mountain. While the views were absent, the elation was still all there.

It took us 5 hours and 20 minutes to hoof it the approximately 7.3 miles to the summit. It was a quicker jaunt down, and we finished with a total time of 9 hours and 37 minutes. Subjectively, as always, the last mile was never-ending. Seldom have I so enjoyed hearing the growing hum of highway traffic.