[Journal entry for February 10-11, 2008] Overnite at Stockbridge Mountain Shelter, Harriman State Park. This winter has been exceptionally warm, so much so that I feared that I would be able to do my traditional winter campout in Harriman Park at all. (To have done it when the temperature was above freezing just would not have seemed right). But finally, a mass of cold air is moving down from Canada. I pack up my winter gear and drive up to Harriman State Park, this year picking the Stockbridge Mountain Shelter as my destination. It is one of about a dozen shelters in the park. I park at the Silvermine parking lot. It's a huge and underused relic of the era when the park operated a small ski area. Light show is falling and a sharp breeze buffets me. I pass a van from which a couple of guys are preparing a picnic - fellow cold weather lovers. I chat with one of them briefly, but have to hurry on, for the day is already growing late. I pass Lake Nawahunta, but all but its adjacent shore is obscured by the falling snow. The trail takes me across a little stream that feeds the lake, through a stand of white pine, past a little marsh, and then up the east flank of Stockbridge Mountain. I see that the marsh is starting to be colonized by the tall massh grass Phragmites colonus. Too bad! Phragmites is taking over everywhere. I remember this marsh being free of it a few years ago. The woods road meanders uphill, crossing several streams and passing by a steep cliff, one of the many south-facing scarps in Harriman Park that I presume were created by glacial plucking during the Ice Age.

Stockbridge Mountain Shelter is a three-sided lean-to erected at the top of the cliff, more or less at the top of Stockbridge Mountain (which is more of a north-south striking ridge than a mountain with a distinct peak). The bare rocky clearing on which the shelter sits commands a nice view from southeast to southwest. The shelter has two built-in fireplaces, one of which I plan to use for tonight's fire. I spend about a half-hour gathering deadfallen branches for my fire from the western slope of the ridge, making about four trips to gather about twenty-five one-to-two inch thick branches. I have to descend quite a distance to find decent wood. The upper slopes have been picked clean by previous users of the shelter. The sun is setting by the time I return from my last trip. Its rays are passing through light falling snow, giving the horizon a very pretty golden glow.

Back at the shelter, I start up my Primus stove and begin cooking my dinner, a pre-packaged rice with broccoli dish that only needs boiling water and a little cooking oil, supplemented with a little salami and washed down with hot cocoa. Using the Primus stove is calculated risk. It's very east to set up and operate, but its fuel, a propane-butane gas mix, performs poorly at low temperature. I use my usual trick of first getting the feeble flame to heat a pot lid of water, and then using the lid to heat the gas cylinder, a bit. I soon have a liter or water boiling. I don my heavy down suit, so I can sit around without becoming cold. The temperature is about 15 degrees Fahrenheit, and I expect it to drop further as the clear Canadian air moves in.

The evening slowly darkens and the sky starts to clear. I can see the constellations Orion overhead and Cassiopia, to its west. I am pleased that very few city lights can be seen from this vantage. The view to the west, with the glow of dusk showing from between clouds on the horizon, is really quite striking. I finish cooking my dinner and slowly eat it, sitting peacefully in the shelter. At about 7PM, when the sky is fully dark (except for a crescent moon), I light my wood fire. A usual, I cheat by placing a can full of old leaves doused with gasoline at the bottom. It burns in a controlled way for at least ten minutes, which is usually long enough to set the wood aflame. But tonight I really have to nurse it along for a long while, fanning the flames with my dinner plate, before the fire is fully alight. I suppose my wood is rather too damp from all the rain that fell over the winter. I sit and contemplate the dancing flames. A west wind outside really begins to howl.

I have been debating whether to sleep outside the shelter (as is my habit) or whether to retreat into it to avoid the wind. In the end, I opt for the outside, for the air in the shelter smells too much of wood smoke. I choose a spot just outside the shelter that has a high rock shelf to the west that I hope will block the wind. I don't even consider using a ground cloth - the wind would surely make it flap, but rather just plop a pad on the bare rock and my sleeping bag on the pad. I weigh them down with a log, to ensure that the wind doesn't blow them away. I snuggle in my bag, trying to fall asleep. The 15 degree air is not a problem, I hardly even notice the cold, but the wind is a bigger problem. Occasional gusts buffet the bag and wake me up now and then. I take advantage of these times to view the stars. The moon has set and I can no longer spot Orion. Instead, another bright constellation, Hydra, is overhead. The temperature has fallen to minus five. I can really feel that it's much colder than last night, when it was fifteen. I have to zip up the sleeping bag to the very top to prevent my face from feeling chilled.

I rise at about 6:30AM to an orange glow in the clear eastern sky. I am pleased to see that a liter of water that I boiled last night and put under some spare clothing is still liquid. The stove proves to be very finicky at first, but I manage to get it going. I have saved some of the rice from last night and add to it poached eggs. The sun rises as I'm eating breakfast. It's now about 7AM. I pack up and hike out. I'm still wearing the mountaineering suit, for the cold air is bitter. But the hike is all downhill, so I do not expect to sweat up. The sun is lighting up the trees and rocks nicely. Lake Nawahunta, which I could barely see yesterday, is especially beautiful.

About fourteen and a half hours overall. The hike one way from the Silvermine parking lot to the shelter takes about 45 minutes at a relaxed pace.