Snowshoeing Weekend in the CatskillsCatskills週末的雪鞋健行

I stood on the summit of Big Indian Mountain, snowflakes shaped as feathers landing on my head, my face, and my shoulders. I opened my palms, and looked upward. Those snowflakes were not those which were tired of resting on the branches and responded to the call of the north wind. They were new, from the far most end of the sky. A storm was coming.

Last weekend I was in the Catskills, participating in a two-day snowshoeing trip. The trip has become a tradition of the AMC Delaware Valley chapter. Last winter was my first time being a member of this festival, and here I was again.

I have loved snow ever since I witnessed the first snow falling on Christmas Eve the first year I was in the States. Snow has this wonderful power of purification; snow makes the most inclement winter bearable. Oh, I can write many poems to awe this white fairy. This indulgence at times makes me overlook what is hidden underneath or behind, and I really shouldn’t.

On Saturday, after bagging Big Indian, we bushwhacked and collected Fir Mountain. Dropping from the summit of Fir, right before we returned to the Pine Hill-West Branch Trail, there was a major river crossing. We crossed the river in the morning, by walking on thick ice and hopping on river rocks after we swept away the snow on top of them and carefully ensured that it was moss rather than ice hidden underneath.

In the afternoon, we again tried to cross the river. I heard a cracking sound, and the lady before me fell through the ice and her left knee was stuck in the hole for quite a while. While she was pushing herself out of the trap, I started to appreciate that her gaiters and her boots looked sturdy enough to be waterproof long enough. However, the sturdy gear didn’t stop her from another slip. Her left knee returned to the ground and stayed there for more than a century long. I noticed that my breath got heavier and my heart was pumping, and she remained low. What happened? Finally she stood up with pain and a brave smile; gladly she only had to hike out with a knee bruise. With no doubt, the whole group paid closer attention to the footing after the event.

On the trail back to the parking lot, the image of the icicle curtain kept jumping in my mind. That was the feature of today, which was spotted along the steep descent from the summit of Fir. Usually the springs would drop ledge after ledge with us, but when it was freezing, even the most determined molecule couldn’t touch base. Icicles of various lengths demonstrated how the cold temperature turned the struggle of the springs into haikus. These crystals looked harmonious yet predicted a battlefield waiting ahead of us – the river.

None of the group members used crampons or ice axes while crossing the river. We probably would not use them next time either even though an accident just happened, weighing the length of time they are needed against the hassles putting them on and taking them off. But I can’t help but wonder whether people would still pay more attention to river crossing given that humans are forgetful.

The second day, the goal of our group was Halcott Mountain. With the help of the snow storm, we were able to put on our snowshoes right at the parking lot. Halcott was the only mountain in our direction of travel, so our group shot right up towards the summit.

The ascent was steep. We tried to maintain a steady pace, and at the same time we worked pretty hard to select a path that would avoid as many as possible branches we had to pass through. Perhaps it was an overly bold decision that we didn’t shoot an exact compass bearing before we climbed. It was true that as long as we kept climbing up, we would hit the summit, but who would know that a giant ledge suddenly rose in front of us and forced us to detour.

We got to the desired altitude, but we didn’t see the canister. Sometimes it is very hard to find a peak canister in winter time, because it is not always in a bright color. With the fast-accumulating snow, strongly blowing wind, and around 15 Fahrenheit of temperature, nobody had the leisure to look for the canister and signed down his/her accomplishment. We wanted to go home; people had already started to worry about driving home.

The group seemed to have different opinions on which direction to go downhill. It was due to the fact that we didn’t take a direct path up here; we selected the path less traveled. The clock kept ticking while the group was trying to reach a consensus. My fingertips started to ache, and the ache was certainly contagious because a moment after the bottom of my feet joined in. I wanted to move; all I could think of was I still had extra clothing sitting in my backpack serving as my last resort.

We finally decided to backtrack a bit first to make sure we were on the ride side of the mountain before we headed straight down to the cars. The plan seemed to work fine, and everybody knew that we were getting closer but everybody was too frozen or too unpleasant to talk. We were like a troop marching in the dark with dead silence, and this troop has a simple purpose, which was to return.

I left the Catskills around mid-afternoon, but the adventure hadn’t ended. Driving south, I saw higher and higher snow piles at the side of the roads, and portions of the highways I took were not plowed well. The more than four-hour drive was more strenuous than any hike I’ve ever done. At least I got home safely. I therefore could conclude that I had a successful weekend-long snowshoeing trip because home is always the ultimate destination of any trip.


站在Big Indian的山巔上，大片大片羽毛狀的雪花，落在我的頭上、臉上、肩上。我打開雙掌，抬頭目試，這雪花可不是呼應北風到來，從樹梢颳起的殘雪。這，是新雪，從遙遠的天際冉冉紛紛地落下，預告一場美東風雪的造臨。

上週末，又到了Catskills山區，參加這場雪鞋健行行程。這行程，是有歷史的，早已成為AMC Delaware Valley Chapter的傳統。去年冬天是我第一次參與這雪鞋健行的慶典，而今天冬天，又回到了這裡。

我愛極了雪。第一次真正見到、感覺到落雪紛紛，是來美國第一年的聖誕夜。雪似乎有這種純化人、事、物的力量，儘管冬天再冷冽，有雪，一切就變得可以忍受。喔，我可以花大把大把的篇幅，不眠不休的歌頌這純白的精靈。就因為這對雪的迷戀，有時候，竟然忽略了在純美的背後暗藏的危機，這可不是能夠原諒的。

星期六，登上Big Indian山頂之後，隊伍踩著雪，開發新路徑，繼續登上了Fir Mountain。回頭路上，在回到Pine Hill-West Branch Trail之前，得越過一條橫阻的河流，是隊伍的最大挑戰。當天早上，隊伍已有一次渡河經驗，隊伍抑或踩在厚實的冰層上，或是小心翼翼地移除河中岩石上已堆積數日的白雪，然後仔細檢查雪下所暗藏的是青苔而不是薄冰，再踩著石塊前進。

下午的回頭路上，又得再渡一次河。我隱約聽到些碎裂的聲音，走在前方的女生的左腳就整個陷入河中，膝蓋不偏不倚的卡在該個冰洞上。她掙扎了好一會，努力地把自己往後推上岸，我一邊打量她的登山鞋和綁腿，暗暗為她慶幸，她的好裝備顯然讓她的左腿仍舊可以保持乾燥。卻，這裝備沒有給她足夠的抓力，她又滑倒在冰上，左膝重重地著地，而她，蹲在那裡好久沒有起身。我開始聽到我緊張的呼吸聲，怦怦的心跳聲，怎麼了？是怎麼了？還好她終於又站起來，勇敢的微笑帶著疼痛的影子。好在，她最後也只帶走膝上的瘀青，沒有什麼更嚴重的傷害，而隊伍經過這一事件，對踏出的步伐更添了三分謹慎。

走在往停車處的步道上，早先目睹的冰瀑景觀三不五時地跳上心來。那冰柱美景可說是今天雪鞋健行的最大賣點了。隊伍和冰瀑相逢在初從Fir Mountain走下的陡峭坡度上。原本，該些小溪流會伴隨著我們順著層層階梯似的岩台，慢慢流下來，匯入河中的。但在冷冽溫度的煎熬下，最有活動力的水分子也只能不上不下地，楞懸在半空中。冰柱的不整齊，似乎闡釋著低溫是怎樣把溪流的掙扎鬥爭，轉換成漂亮的俳句。而這些水晶狀的透明體，看似和諧，卻早已預告等待在前的渡河考驗。

渡河的時候，我們沒有使用冰爪也沒有使用冰斧。我忖度著，就算下一次過河，恐怕也不會使用該些裝備，雖說眾人都才目睹了一樁小意外的發生。為什麼呢？就在於需要使用冰爪的時間太短，穿上脫下重新裝入背包的過程太過冗長，權衡之下，還是只會選擇多加一份小心。但我卻一直不停地想，人們總是健忘的，下一次過河真的會提醒自己多加小心嗎？

第二天的目標山頭，叫做Halcott Mountain。連夜風雪的吹拂，隊伍得以在跳出車廂之後，就開始使用雪鞋。由於Halcott是隊伍攀爬的大方向上，唯一的山頭，隊伍有默契地，就是努力往上爬就對了。

攀爬的路徑還頗為險峻，隊伍一邊維持著固定、有力的攀爬速度，一邊努力地看遠些，用心計畫出一條路線，不需要穿過太多的軟藤樹枝。爬了好一陣子，前頭突然出現巨大無敵的垂直岩壁擋住去路，也許當初起爬的時候，本著「努力往上爬就對了」的宗旨是太過輕率了，真應該拿出指南針，校正一下方向的。當然，現在後悔也已經太遲，隊伍只得繞道而行，再覓路行上山頂。

我們爬到了山頂，卻找不到放有簽名簿的小圓桶。有時候山頂的小圓桶還真不是普通的難找，尤其是很多小圓桶並沒有使用鮮豔的顏色。當時，溫度大概是華氏十五度，風刮得人臉頰紅通通，雪又是急急地累積，沒有人還有那閒情逸致在山頂上晃悠，好好地找到那小圓桶，再簽下大名。大家都想趕快下山，很多人開始擔心開車回家的路況。

但由於早先，隊伍經過一番繞道才到了山頂，這時候，少許人似乎對於該朝哪一個方向下山，生了意見。偏偏眾人討論的時候，地球並沒有停止轉動，風沒有停止不吹，雪沒有停止不下。漸漸地，我的指尖開始微微生疼，這份疼痛幾分鐘後又傳到腳板。我只想著趕快邁步行走，並提醒自己背包中還有尚未使用到的衣著手套，可以供我撐個好一陣子。

終於領隊決定順著來時路，先走一陣子，等到確定隊伍是位於停車處的山側，再往山下急起直衝。這個宗旨似乎是定對了，眾人可以感覺到車子的氣息，只是大夥兒都凍地懶得說話，或者是早已喪失了說話的心情？我們就像在暗夜行軍的隊伍，死寂死寂，腦海中只專注在唯一的目標：回家。

終於在下午三四點左右，離開了Catskills山區，只是，這不代表我的冒險已告了一段落。往南開車的途中，路旁的雪堆是一個比一個高，車行經的公路，有很多路段剷雪車並沒有剷除完全，這趟車行的危險程度，遠遠超過任何我曾經健行過的路徑。至少最後總算安全到家了，我於是可以說這週末的雪鞋健行之旅，是個成功的行程，因為，家，是所有旅程的終極目的地。