[Journal Entry for October 31, 2010; Black Mountain]. I arrived at the Anthony Wayne Recreation Area, just off the Palisades Interstate Parkway in Harriman State Park, at about 3PM. My hopes sunny skies are in vain, for while the moring has been mostly sunny with puffy clouds, the afternoon has grown mostly cloudy and rather chilly, with just a few breaks in the cloud cover. I hike southward along a trail that follows Beechy Bottom creek. The dramatic fall colors of two weeks ago are more or less over, replaced with ambers and browns, which while still beautiful, are more subdued. I find a small wetland, across which I can view West Mountain. It is a north-south striking ridge that commands very nice views in more or less all directions. I connect with the Appalachian Trail (AT) and take it northward, up along the side of a steep ravine and onto the West Mountain ridge top. The forest along the flank of the mountain is mostly hardwood, including beech. However, quite a large number of pine saplings, four to six feet high, are growing beneath the canopy. I wonder whether they will overrun the hardwoods as they mature. I reach the ridge after a half-hour or so climb. I rest on a rock ledge that looks westwards, across the valley of the Beechy Bottom, to Black Mountain. A few trees are bright yellow and these stand out in the rather dim light. I then connect with the Timp-Torne trail and take it south. I make one short detour, across to the eastern side of the ridge, where I can see Bear Mountain and the valley of the Hudson River. I then push on, reaching West Mountain shelter at about 4:15 PM. It is a three sided stone lean-to, with a wooden platform that can sleep a half-dozen or so people. People must have been using it earlier in the day, for a fire is smoldering in its fireplace. Several other people have also arrived, a couple, who like me, are staying the night, and a group of three day hikers. One of the day hikers in interested in my camera; she has been thinking of buying the same model. I let her try mine out. We all chat for a while, while I unpack some of my gear. I put on my coat insulated pants. I was lightly dressed while hiking. The uphill section generated quite a bit of heat. But now warm clothes are in order. I start up my Primus stove and make coffee. I pick out a flat area near the shelter for my campsite. If the weather is good, I prefer to sleep outside, rather than in a shelter, which can be smoky. I then walk to the Fire Escape, a rock ledge that looks southwest, to watch the sunset. Two while-tail deer scamper past me. The clouds become quite beautiful as they are backlit by the setting sun and a cloud-free strip of sky along the horizon glows red. By I catch only a fleeting view of the setting sun. I return to the area of the shelter and chat with the other two campers, who have also set up a tent. One of them hiked the New Hampshire section of the AT this summer. We discuss hiking, cold weather techniques and hiking disasters. I refrain from telling the story of my Vatnajokull, Iceland faux pas. We watch the evening set in, listening to owls hooting nearby. The ledge of the shelter looks southeast. I can see the neighboring hill called the Timp, the Hudson River, the town of Haverstraw, Hook Mountain and way in the distance, the New York City skyline. My proximity to civilization becomes obvious as darkness sets in and the light of Haverstraw and other villages along the Hudson Valley begin to twinkle. Yet I am far enough away that I hear no city noises. After dark, I cook a dinner of macaroni and cheese. I coax the smoldering fire in the fireplace to produce flames for a few minutes. They light up the interior of the shelter. The clouds have all evaporated and the sky is now completely clear. I lie down in my sleeping bag, watching the stars and trying to sleep (early though it be). I can see my favorite constellation, Cassiopeia (the big “W” in the sky). Polaris is in the direction of my feet, so the heavens slowly revolve over me. During the night, I awake to see that Orion has risen, and the later, the moon comes up, too. The eastern horizon starts to feebly glow around 6:30 AM. The temperature is now 25 F. I get up and stand on a rock ledge near the shelter, watching for the sun. It is a long time coming! Finally, at 7:27 AM, it appears above the low hills on the east side of the Hudson. The hills below me are very beautiful in the morning sun. I cook a breakfast of oatmeal and coffee, pack up, and then head down the mountain. Many of the low bushes, and especially blueberry, are still red and the morning sun makes them very vivid. I again take the detour to the north side of the ridge, so I can view Bear Mountain and the Hudson River in the morning light. The sun has peeked over West Mountain and is just lighting up Beechy Bottom creek as I cross the footbridge. A couple of turkey vultures are circling around the parking lot as I arrive. The time is now about 9:30 AM. About 18 hours, overall.