Mt Baker- Day 49 (Storm Clouds Ahead -conclusion)

Those close to me have said that the last three blogs are difficult to understand. I think it is because they have taken it literally. No, these past events described in Storm Clouds Ahead did not really happen. There is no 6:50AM train from Katonah to Grand Central. Yes, these recent blogs are essentially paying homage to the knowledge required to predict weather while in the wild. Yes, I intend to further detail those skills. But no, there was no metamorphosing poster on the 6:50AM train, no poster that starts as an add for The Weather Channel, no poster that subsequently changes under the influence of the sun's rays to an ethereal message of truth and destiny. Other characters briefly mentioned in these more recent blogs and to be introduced later in today's conclusion are also not real. The process of writing on a blog is essentially for me a new life's experience. I suddenly realized the pleasure of "creative" writing, if that it is what it is called. May even take a course in it, perhaps at NYU night school, or wherever else it might be offered. Regardless, I have been advised to return to the detailing of day to day preparations for the July 23 summit. OK, I hear you. There are very meaningful things that need to be retold. The goal, indeed, is to climb Mount Baker and, most importantly, raise funds for a hopeful cause. But let me finish my recently experienced drama before moving on. It is a drama that has changed my life forever. So here goes the conclusion: truth, fiction, or otherwise.

Having quickly exited the southbound Metro North commuter train heading to Grand Central and having left a message to my office to cancel all the day's appointments, I arrived by return metro at Katonah and quickly scrambled into my waiting Jag at the station's parking lot . I headed north to the Catskill Mountains. Keeping to a steady speed with no traffic, I knew I would be there before noon. My intent was to climb one of the Catskill's 4000 foot summits and try out the skills of forecasting the weather detailed in the book Mountaineering:Freedom of the Hills. After three hours of travelling, I finally arrived at my destination, the northwest trail head of Slide Mountain. Though my iPhone was still on my belt, a resolution was made to keep it powered off for the duration. I had learned from previous experience that its Weather Channel app may not be a reliable means to forecast weather in the remote mountain peaks with temperatures well below freezing. Better now to become less dependent upon the digital world. The crisp white shirt, my usual red paisley tie, and recently shined brown Italian loafers were left behind, replaced by more appropriate climbing attire always kept in my car's trunk just for such contingencies.

For those of you who don't know, Slide Mountain at 4,180 feet is the tallest peak in the Catskills. No Himalayan Mountain for sure but still a means to test certain mountaineering skills. The main trails are easy to follow but several paths branching from the trail can surely test ones capacity for orienteering. Taking "the path less chosen" off the main trail so as to proove my mountain worthiness, I climbed through forests of sugar maples, beech, black cherry, and hemlock. It was, indeed, a beautiful hike. The mountain laurel was in full bloom, its delicate white flowers looking like a neckless of perfect radiant pearls. The sky at this point was blue with only an occasional cloud. I could hear the soft clear songs of red-eyed vireo and yellow-bellied sapsuckers, each having recently arrived during their yearly migration from the Arctic to South America. And so it went for the next three hours.

I soon realized that the path had changed. No longer marked, I was less certain that a trail actually existed. Limestone boulders covered with club moss began to dominate the setting. Forests also changed in character, reflecting the sub alpine altitudes. The trees were smaller with a greater number of balsam firs mixed with feathery ferns and rough hobble bush. There was now a chill in the air. The blue sky was now sparse. Was this the moment my ethereal poster in the first car of the 6:50 AM train from Katonah to Grand Central had divined? A judgement had to be made as to whether or not to end my climb and head back to the car at the northwest trail head . What could I expect in the next two hours - rain, sun, high winds, cooling temperatures, lightning? I realized the time had come to use nature's clues and test my newly acquired mountaineering talent for predicting summit weather (oops, sorry, the conclusion to this episode will have to be saved for tomorrow)