"Devil's Path Death March Dayhike"

June 3-5, 2005 Catskills, NY (Indian Head, Twin, Sugarloaf, Plateau, Westkill)

Trail:  Devil's Path

Elevation of Peaks:  Indian Head (3573'), Twin (3640'), Sugarloaf (3800'), Plateau (3840'), Westkill (3880')

Elevation Gain: ~9000'

Miles:  26

Backpacker Magazine calls the Devil's Path in the Catskills the most difficult dayhike in America.   Almost any hardcore hiker would also call it fun.   This relentlessly brutal trail covers the distance of a marathon with around 18,000' of elevation gain and loss along the way.  Myself and a group of other hikers converged to attempt to do the entire trek in one day to test our endurance, stamina, physical conditioning and perhaps our thresholds for pain.  It would be the most physically demanding challenge I had ever embarked upon. 

I arrived Friday night at the Devil's Tombstone Campground and was greeted with familiar faces as well as new ones.   There were around a dozen of us, though only eight of us would be attempting to hike the path the next morning (we're in the below picture.  From left to right:  Blain, Todd, Myself, Bruce, Dave, Rob, Ken and Zac).  That evening, we shuttled a couple of vehicles to the end point of the trail before returning to the campsite to get some sleep. 

Saturday morning we hit the trail at 6:20am.  My main goal for this hike was to finish it under 12 hours, and I set off at perhaps too aggressively at first.  Dave, Ken and I hiked together for a while, but after a mile or two, I knew that I wouldn't be able to keep the current pace and slowed down while they hiked on ahead near the summit of Indian Head.  Meanwhile, Bruce and Blain would catch up and I ended up hiking with them for a good ways. 

After climbing down Indian Head we began the ascent up Twin.  It was here that I became concerned about my right knee.  It felt as if a tendon or ligament had grown too sore or tight, and I became worried that if it got progressively worse, I wouldn't be able to finish the path.  I trekked on, making it a point not to put any more pressure on my knee than I needed to.  That slowed me down a bit, but it was a logical precaution to take.

We climbed up Sugarloaf and as we descended on the other side, Blain hiked on ahead and was soon gone from our sight.  That meant Bruce and I were in the middle of the pack, with three members of our group ahead of us, and three others behind us. 

We reached the col between Sugarloaf and Plateau, which was an area familiar to me since I spent the night at the lean-to there a few years ago.  I also remembered how grueling the climb up Plateau was, and Bruce and I took a snack and Gatorade break here before climbing skyward for the fourth time that morning.  And indeed, the hike up was brutal.  We had already hiked at least 10 miles at this point, which magnified the relentless steepness.   The temperature also decided to take an upward hike into the mid-80's, and the heat certainly wasn't much help at this point.   However, my knee had begun to feel better and would thankfully get 100% better before the midway point. 

The nice thing about Plateau Mountain is what one might expect:  the top consists of a nice, level ridge which gives a welcome break from any real elevation changes for a mile or so.   Bruce and I finally reached the descent, and headed down the path which would roughly mark the halfway point (which is also where our campsite was at). 

We refilled on water and ate more energy-filled snacks here before beginning the ascent to the col between Hunter and Southwest Hunter.   This section of the trail was also insanely unforgiving, and would take it's final toll upon Bruce.  Both of his legs would cramp up very badly here, and he had no choice but to call it a day.  I made sure I thought he could make it back down to the campsite okay by himself, and then got his car key and 2-way radio from him (the second of which was being held by the group behind us) and continued onward.

Unfortunately for Bruce, where he turned around was at the high point of the col, and for the next few miles, I would enjoy a very gradual descent down into Diamond Notch.  I had hiked this section of trail three years ago during a trip up Hunter, and recalled many of the views and landmarks.   I also ran into two small groups of hikers who would inform me that they ran into the others from my group just 15 minutes ago.  I picked up my pace a little in hopes of catching up to them.

I eventually reached the Diamond Notch Falls and soon afterward began the final major ascent up Westkill.  It was here that I began feeling kind of foggy-headed from what was undoubtedly a result of  physical taxation.  It was an eerie feeling, but yet somewhat calming at the same time.   I had never experienced anything like it.   Perhaps it was just my endorphins kicking in ways they never had before, but regardless, I was still thinking clearly enough and trucked on.

After several false summits, I reached the top of Westkill, and began what I thought was the final descent down.  Unfortunately, I ran into a 200' rock scramble that Bruce had warned me about.  I had thought he was joking when he told me about it earlier, but there it was.  When I was about three quarters of the way up, I thought I heard a voice.  Was that Blain?  I thought I might have caught up to him, so I really reached deep within myself and picked up the pace.  It would turn out it wasn't him, and just my mind playing tricks on me.  I downed a liter of Gatorade here, to help alleviate one of my concerns that perhaps I might be feeling foggy headed and hearing things because of dehydration.  In hindsight, I think it was more from the endorphins. 

I rejoiced in the descent after that final scramble and reached a turn in the trail where I learned it was just 1.5 miles to the end.  Soon afterward, I entered a boggy area infested with mosquitoes.  This was somewhat torturous, as the trail was really rocky and I couldn't hike fast enough to outrun the little buggers.  But alas, I would hear something that would lift my spirits (this time it was for real).  The 2-way radio I had taken from Bruce sprung to life, and although I didn't get good enough reception to make out any voices just yet, it underscored the fact that I was nearly done and it was good to know that others were waiting for me at the end.

As I hiked further down, the voice became clearer.  It was Bruce, and it became apparent that he and someone else must have driven to the end of the path to meet me there.  During the last several hundred yards, the trail became flat and rock-free enough to run on, so I did just that. 

I soon saw the parking lot through the trees, and after I felt the pavement of it beneath my boots, I spiked my trekking poles down in end-zone like fashion and raised my arms in a 'V".   I had hiked the entire path in 11 hours and 24 minutes, well within my goal of finishing it in less than 12 hours.  Waiting there was Bruce, Todd, Zac and Ken.  Ken and Blain had apparently finished it about a half an hour before me, and incredibly, Dave had finished it in just over 10 hours.   The others had dropped out, but will no doubt get it next time, and with great vengeance.  

We returned to the campsite and feasted on steak in front of a campfire, a fitting and great way to end an incredible day.  Ken is an experienced ultrathon runner, and I picked his brain about the grueling nature of what we did today.  He confirmed my idea that this was more difficult than a marathon, and he would compare it to a 50-mile ultrathon in terms of the demand put on the body.  I've never run an ultrathon, or even a marathon, but somehow, I definitely believe him.

I awoke the next morning and drove back home, feeling better than I thought I would.  My legs are sore, but not overly so.  Still, it'll take them a while to recover, and I'll hold off on any running this week.  Darn good trip, and I'm proud of what I did.  But next year when we do this trip again, I'll aim to do it in under 11 hours, and maybe even be the first one done.  :-)