[Journal entry for February 7-8, 2016; Overnight at Pleasant Valley Shelter, Harriman State Park NY] This has been unusually warm winter with many days in the high fifties, Fahrenheit. I’ve had a hard time finding a time for a real winter campout, and although snow still remains on the ground in Harriman Park, the day is warm – in the high forties – and sunny, warmer than I would prefer. I hike in my shirtsleeves, enjoying the warm of the sun’s light.

I park in the huge lot at Anthony Wayne Recreation Area and hike east to Doodletown. I take the Fawn Trail (blazed with a red “F”) over the ridge of West Mountain, passing a prominent scarp and crossing its rocky ridgeline. A few Pitch Pines stand sentinel there. I then connect with the Appalachian Trail (blazed in white) and take it down the eastern flank of the mountain until it joins the 1777W Trail (blazed in red). This wide trail parallels the flank of Bear Mountain, is set a little uphill from the valley floor, and has sections that have been planted with rows of White Pine. I come to a tributary stream that cascades down a mossy trailside cliff. I is very beautifully lit by the sun. It flows into Doodletown Brook – the main drainage in this area. I descend to the bottom of the valley and bushwhach along the brook. The snow is melting and the brook is very lively, with several small waterfalls and many lesser cascades. One of the largest waterfalls, with a head of perhaps ten feet, is on a tributary brook that flows in from the south. I spot a few White Tail Deer, who hurry out of my way.

I follow Doodletown Brook as far as Doodletown Reservoir, a small impoundment creates by a small (but fairly high) concrete dam. Beaver have been very active, felling several trees along the shore. In fact, trees seem to have been gnawed since I visited this spot last week. I examined the lodge, which is a fairly pile of sticks and mud on the shore, extending out a bit into the water. I then walked Pleasant Valley Road through the ruins of the Doodletown, stopping to read a few of the historic markers that describ defunct structures now marked only by decaying stone foundations. I poked around Timp Brook, which is smaller than Dooddletown Brook, for a while, admiring some icicles that hadve formed on overhanging bushes. I soon reach a small clearing near the intersection of Pleasant Valley Road and Timp Pass Road that hosts a dammed rivulet, some ruins, and a small hut.

The hut, as I knew from my visit last week, was not in good repair. While the three walls – it is open in the front - are made of stout stone built to last, its roof is of decaying corrugated steel and has fallen in places. I had not planned to stay in the hut but only to use it as a destination, and set up camp nearby.

I gathered deadfall for my campfire. I spent an hour searching around for branches that were up to about an inch or two thick, breaking them into segments and carrying them to the large fire ring that stands in front of the hut. The purpose of my campfire is merely aesthetic, something to light and cheer the night, so I do not need it to burn for very long; an hour is more than enough. The trick was to find sticks that were not soaked in the melting snow. I arranged the sticks in a little teepee around my usual fire starter: an old soup can stuffed with dry grass and doused with a little gasoline from my stove. I’m not a purist when it comes to building fires.

I set up my MSR stove on an old stone pillar and my Marmot tent on a horizontal leaf-strewn spot near the rivulet. The stove would not start until after I spent about a half hour disassembling and cleaning it. I have done this many times, often in harsher conditions than today’s, and so did not mind. I suppose that there was always a possibility that I would break it during the cleaning process, but I had the campfire as backup.

I cooked and ate my dinner of pork, couscous, onion and gravy and washed it down with strong tea. Officially, the sun set at around 5:20PM, but I could not see the sunset from Pleasant Valley, which is surrounded by steep hills. The hut was in shadow when I arrived at 4:30 but the darkness of night did not come on until 7:00 or so. Stars began to come out, but then the sky clouded over. Oddly, although the night was moonless, it never became completely dark. I suppose that the city lights of Peekskill or some other town were lighting up the night. After dinner I lit up my campfire and sat next to it, singing songs such as Tallis’ Cannon, and drinking more tea. At about 8PM, after the fire had burned low, I retired to my tent. I listened for owls and other animals, but heard none. The gurgling of the rivulet was much louder than I would have guessed, or perhaps just in comparison to the otherwise silent night.

I did not sleep as well as usual. I must have a cold coming on, for nasal congestion woke me up several times during the night.

I arose at 7AM to a chilly, overcast day. The temperature was hovering around 32 degrees Falhrenheit and the air felt very damp and chilly. I fired up the MSR stove and cooked a breakfast egg and cheese bagel, which I washed down with tea. I then packed up my gear and headed out.

I took Doodletown Bridle Path back. It is an old woods road that climbs up the east flank of West Mountain, following the side of a narrow valley with a small stream at its bottom. Its steep uphill grade warmed me up. I spotted a few chipmunks scampering over the nearby leaves, but nothing larger. I connected with the Fawn Trail and took it over the spine of West Mountain and back to my car.

About nineteen hours, of which three hours were hiking.