This was a trip of extremes for me and a friend! Hoping to end the season with a bang, we chose to take on the rugged trail that traverses Saddleback, Basin and Haystack, but the challenge alone wasn't enough - we decided to do it from the parking lot and back in a day. On paper, 18.6 miles didn't sound too terrible - but when it's on trails like this, it sure felt like 30 miles.

There is no way to describe the experience and do it justice - this is truly a hike that you must experience first-hand, but what I can say is that it was nothing short of incredible. To me, it's such a rush to be out in the silent woods with only the trees rustling in the wind and the occasional squirrel that scurries by, yet be surrounded by the rugged giants of the Adirondacks that stand so silently proud. While we remained fairly silent for most of the trip, the surrounding beauty of the landscape played a roaring symphony of natural sounds in my ears.

Every step forward on the trail held its own new incredible experience. We started up Ore Bed Brook trail and found the newly modified steps up the edge of the slide, 300 steps later and we were nearing our junction. Heading toward Saddleback we began to think it was going to be a breeze - hardly even a challenge - that is until we saw what appeared to be a rock cliff and realized in exclamation, "We have to go down there?!" We squished, slid, dangled, and jumped our way down but that was just the beginning. The scrambles on Saddleback and Basin were a rush, not to mention the view of the surrounding giant peaks towering over us at every step. Each view seemed more amazing than the last - there's something to be said about being perched up high enough to see rippling ridge lines creep across the landscape.

Finally, atop of Basin, we peered out to our old friends Marcy and Skylight, and looked to our challenge of Haystack ahead. We were exhausted and losing hope. Staring at this far off peak and realizing how far we needed to descend, only to have to make the steeper climb back up, we were discouraged and considered bailing out at the next junction. As we headed back our silence was enough to understand that we were reaching our limits. Just as we neared the junction where we were about to call it a day, we met another group of young hikers. We chatted and traded stories and trail routes, but when we mentioned our plans for the day, their laughing stopped and they stared at us like we had lost our minds. "You're doing what? ..well, best of luck to you." Their skepticism was enough - we knew we had to complete our ridiculous goal just to prove to them, and ourselves, that it was not only possible, but WE could do it.

As we pushed forward, the summit crept closer and closer until all of a sudden, with a last aching step, we were there... we made it. The peak offered the usual dramatic views, but most importantly, it offered serenity. As you peered out in every direction, there was not a single mark of human life to be found - no roads to be seen, no planes buzzing by, no buildings disturbing this peaceful view. At that moment, we both realized that this is what we came here for. Yes, we wanted the challenge and the views and the time on the trail, but what we really wanted was the escape from our own man-made world - we wanted to step out away to the peaceful giants of the mountains and render our own personal problems insignificant. Our slates were wiped clean and our hearts and souls rejuvenated. After the many miles back to the Garden, we left those woods with our heads and hands held high. We accomplished not only the challenge of the day, but we had that moment of serenity that would follow us for many months to come.

Walking out into the parking lot, John Muir's words came to my mind. "In every walk with nature, one receives far more than he seeks." While I can tell stories of what we saw, heard, and felt, only those words truly sum up our adventure.