Algonquin Peak, the second highest peak in New York, lies within the confines of the Adirondacks. She’s the crown jewel of the MacIntyre Range standing at 5,114 feet, dwarfing all but one peak around her. My husband Nick and I had the privilege of hiking Mount Marcy (the highest peak in NY) and Algonquin a few years ago. Mount Marcy left me with tendinitis in my knees while Algonquin was more forgiving. We have be pining to get back ever since. On a recent weekend, Nick and I found ourselves with nothing on our agendas and decided to venture north. On this particular weekend, we’d bring his sister Laura along for her first out of state hiking trip. We knew Algonquin wouldn’t disappoint.

The night we arrived in Lake Placid, worn from the six hour drive, we were met by a Canadian rugby team who were sharing our accommodations. We joined them by the fire while they sung their rugby songs, many of which would make a sailor blush. We went to bed at what we deemed a reasonable hour (we surely had an early morning) but were occasionally rustled out of our sleep by roars of laughter coming from the campfire. Somehow, with interrupted sleep and restless minds, we made it to the trail head the next morning bright and early.

The trail begins at the Adirondack Loj, a starting point for many hikes in the High Peaks Region. Turning onto the Adirondack Loj Road from Route 73, the mountains tower over a field, beckoning you to climb them. Viewing them from this standpoint conjures up the excitement, resolve, and energy to complete the hike you’ve chosen. The mountains of the Northeast feel inviting – the forest is lush and rife with natural features. Even the forest floor, devoid of any apparent sunlight, is teeming with life.

An Algonquin Peak Hike Begins

We signed in at the trail register and began our hike on the Van Hoevenburg Trail. It begins unassumingly enough as a gentle walk through the woods on a fairly wide trail. We meandered through a forest of hemlocks and over bridges that allowed us to traverse marshes. Despite the rain the entire week prior, the trail wasn’t terribly muddy and for that we were thankful. This portion of the hike makes you feel as though it’ll be an easy one. Don’t be fooled – it gets much more challenging. The hike is only an eight mile out and back, but you’ll climb roughly 3,000 feet in elevation with the bulk of it in 3 miles of trail.

Once we reached the junction for the Marcy Dam, we continued on the MacIntyre Range Trail, making our steady ascent to Algonquin. For about another mile, the boulders get increasingly larger, taxing your quads and making you wish you did more squats before attempting it. We were having a wonderful time being out but not making good time by any means. I’ve learned over the years my hiking style – slow and steady – is much kinder to my knees and better for my endurance. This was perfect, however, because Laura was marveling at everything around her, often stopping to take photographs.

This is one of the most popular hikes in the area so we passed plenty of people on the trail. We made sure to stop and talk to everyone as we always do. More often than not, when reminiscing, you think of the people you’ve met on the trail rather than the hike itself. Hikers 30 years my senior were rushing past me, making me feel like a snail. I resolved to keep my current pace, knowing I would feel better in the morning than my fellow hikers. After roughly a mile of stone steps, we reached an impressive waterfall. At this point, the trail begins turning into rock slides. Nick and Laura were walking upright on them, putting me to shame. Though I knew better, I felt like I had to get on my hands and knees to traverse them. Nick often times jokes that I have more caveman in me than most people and this scrambling style I had was a true testament to my lack of evolutionary progress. Nick had it wrong all along – maybe I wasn’t meant to be bipedal at all.

The rock slides were very wet (as they often are) but our grip did not suffer. We were steadily climbing, often stopping due to racing hearts and burning legs. At this point in the hike it is advantageous to stop and take a minute to look around. Unbeknownst to you, the mountain ranges around you are unfolding behind your back.

We came to the junction for Wright Peak, another 46er. Nick had practically begged to go, but I didn’t think I would make it. It was another steep half mile to its summit, and we still had roughly a mile left to reach Algonquin. A mile under normal circumstances would be a breeze, but a mile over rock slides and boulders feels like an eternity. We climbed into the alpine zone and above tree line. The wind was howling but we had clear skies. I was starting to feel pretty woozy – we hadn’t eaten a proper breakfast and I running on fumes. We stopped and ate on the flanks of the summit, fueling up before our final ascent. The food certainly helped, but I always seem to get a second wind when I can finally see what I’ve been working towards. We hoofed it the rest of the way, following the cairns and yellow paint along the rocks, scrambling our way to the top.

I can’t imagine what it feels like to be on Everest, because here, at a mere 5,000 feet above sea level, you feel as though you are on top of the world. No matter where you rest your eyes there are mountains and lakes. You can see your starting point and marvel at the distance (and elevation!) you’ve traveled. You can see the ski jumps at the Olympic Complex in Lake Placid and Lake Placid itself. It always amazes me to view small cities and towns (and even larger ones) from this perspective. Everything seems to be in perfect order and harmony. It reminds me why I trek through the woods – it brings order to my life and makes modern day troubles seem infantile. It allows me to make sense of it all.

Although we saw many people on the trail, we were pleasantly surprised to see the summit relatively empty. It is nearly the size of a football field so even in times of popularity there is always room to be alone. We ducked down behind some rocks to take it all in. After a small snack, we made our way around the ring of the summit. Luckily, the sun warmed us up and the wind wasn’t oppressive enough for us to make a hasty descent. We stopped and spoke with the summit steward who was assigned to Algonquin that day. He told us about the destruction done to the alpine zone in the 1970's and the subsequent attempts to re-vegetate the summit. He pointed out the peaks around us, the most interesting of which was Mount Colden. There are several areas of slides on its slopes, wherein the bare rock is exposed amongst a forest around it. We noticed a couple of them were bright white unlike the numerous grey ones. He said they were a result of Hurricanes Irene and Sandy. It was a staggering reminder that Mother Nature calls the shots.

We were anxious to begin our descent but sorry that we had to leave. Reluctantly, we began climbing down, knowing it would take much longer to descend. Having to go back down 3,000 feet is a cruel joke. I wrapped my knee and took out my hiking poles in preparation for the horror about to be unleashed on my lower extremities. The conversation started to die out as everyone began concentrating on their footing, allowing us to personally reflect on our day. We finally made our way back to the beginning of the trailhead, happily checking off the trail register indicating we had returned unscathed. We reached the car incredibly pleased with ourselves and ready for the ultimate post hiking food – pizza.

Need to Know

Information

$10 parking per day, $5 if an AMC member. Get there early in the summer months – the lot fills up quickly. Camping is available at the Adirondack Loj for a fee. Free wilderness camping is permitted on state land. No fires. Bear canisters are required. No camping over 4,000 feet. You can make this hike into a multi day peak bagging trip.

Best Time to Go

Late Summer and Fall, you may want to avoid Black Fly Season (changes yearly, but falls somewhere between June-July).

Getting There

Take the NY State Thruway to Route 73, Keene Valley. Turn left on Adirondack Loj Road, which ends at the parking attendant booth and trailhead.

Maps

National Geographic Trails Illustrated Lake Placid / High Peaks Map or (included with) the Adirondacks Map Pack.

Books

High Peaks Trails by Tony Goodwin as well as 50 Hikes in the Adirondack Mountains (for other hikes in the region).

Editor's Note: This article by contributor Sarah Tiedemann originally appeared in Issue 12 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.