pace. that's what i realized i had done wrong the first time i tried to get up prospect mountain. as usual, i just figured i could tackle some physical challenge without thinking it out first. so i tried again, yesterday, to get up prospect.
here's the overpass to get from lake george village to the trail up the mountain. this crosses route 87.
a few helpful-looking walking sticks.
so i took a nice amount of rests, drank my water, ate my gorp, and hacked away at the trail. when i got to the second part - above the highway that i made it to a few days ago - the trail came into this area of sheer rocks, which were all a bit wet, so the going was a little tougher than the first part.i came across an older gentleman and his daughter doign this second part. the guy was dressed like a vulcan - seriously - in a nice tan tunic-looking thing. his hair was cut short but sported a rat tail. since he and his daughter seemed a little ill-dressed for the terrain, i thought he was either: a) a cult leader looking for a cave in which to store guns, b) a native american (which, if he was, would have made me feel like a complete jerk for having made fun of him), or c) a star trek fan. all three were wrong; he was a floridian. of course.
then, while heaving and panting, i was suddenly overtaken by a st. bernard. a st. bernard? was i hallucinating? here i am, in this treacherous landscape, and this dog is here? in the cartoons, when the st. bernard comes it means you're in trouble. they're rescue dogs. whiskey in the thing around their neck, etc etc. so my first thought was that i had fallen prey to the elements and the ascent, believing that i was hiking but actually laying in a ravine somewhere dead.
but alas, it was only the dog of a hiker who had brought him out here three times a week. three.
sheesh.
ah, the top! it once was bedecked with a hotel and had a rail car that brought people to the top. back then, three bucks was a week's earnings. the rail car ride was fifty cents, and a night in the hotel was three bucks. after it went under, they left this giant wheel-thing that brought the rail car up.
fire? nope. pollen, which covers everything in the area - from cars to my laptop located in my room - in a yellow dusting.
gosh. a two-and-a-half hour trek up and down a mountain sure leaves a fella tired.