2021-08-07: Eagle, Big Indian, and Fir Mountains

In my quest to climb all 33 of the (legally accessible) Catskill High Peaks, I've reached the point where the only mountains left to climb are those that have no trails, and must be accessed by bushwhacking, either following a fairly well-established herdpath (such as Rusk Mountain) or blazing my own way to the summit (such as Rocky Mountain). This hike has a mix of both. Of these three mountains, located in the remote towns of Hardenburgh and Shandaken NY, Eagle and Big Indian have trails nearly all the way to their summits, with small herdpaths to the highest point, while Fir is much more remote. This seventeen-mile hike was the last hike where I could summit three high points in one day.

A view of Eagle Mountain, the first of the day's targets, from Dry Brook Road on approach to the trailhead.

I began the hike in Seager, a 'hamlet' consisting of a handful of buildings and a trailhead at the end of a dirt road. This trailhead used to be the parking spot for the bushwhack up Doubletop Mountain, one of the region's taller peaks, before the mountain's owners stopped allowing public access to the property a little over a year ago. As such, the portion of the main trail that runs through private property is plastered with posted signs and warnings not to deviate from the marked trail.

A nice waterfall along the Dry Brook, visible from the trail in the privately-owned portion of the hike. I stopped here for my first break.

A closer view of the mossy waterfall. Cloudy weather conditions made good photography difficult on this hike.

After maybe a mile the trail left the private land, and a little while later I passed a lean-to along the Shandaken Brook. From here on out it was a straight shot up the side of Eagle Mountain, a trail that was fairly long and rather steep in some parts. While the ascent up Eagle was a grind (a feeling I would get used to over the course of the day), I made good time, averaging over 2.5 miles per hour. Once the trail reaches the top of the ridge, it splits; going left at the junction leads to Eagle, while going right leads to Big Indian. I went left and hiked about another mile, gradually heading up through some rocky areas, until I found the very short and well-worn herdpath to Eagle's summit canister.

Bolted to a spruce tree, the Eagle Mountain canister is well-worn, its orange coloring beginning to fade.

A wide view of the summit clearing atop Eagle. None of the three mountains I would climb on this hike have any overlooks to speak of.

After resting for a few minutes, I powered on towards Big Indian Mountain, my next destination. Descending Eagle went fairly quickly, and I was soon back at the junction. The hike from the junction to Big Indian's summit was only a mile and a half, and according to my phone I made very good time on this section of trail, but it felt like it took much longer than it should have. I may have overexerted myself on the way up Big Indian, as the trail is fairly relentless (albeit not particularly steep). I had gotten a late start; it was already three in the afternoon and I still had two more mountains to finish.

Big Indian Mountain has perhaps some of the most interesting history of the Catskill High Peaks. According to local legend, the mountain (and nearby village of the same name) draws its name from Winnisook, a Lenape leader who stood six foot ten. During the late 1700s or early 1800s, Winnisook fell in love with a European woman named Gertrude, and the two eloped into the wilderness. Her family, disapproving of the relationship, sent men to kill Winnisook. Gertrude found him dying and buried him under a pine tree, then went to live with the Lenape for the rest of her life. What truth there is to the story I can't say, but it's definitely an interesting piece of local lore.

On the way up Big Indian I grew impatient, and spotted a herdpath that I speculated might lead to the summit. This path was actually a deer trail, and I spent a good ten minutes or so wandering around a section of high ground that was not the summit. Eventually I did reach the real summit, following a much more prominent herdpath to the canister, standing at the edge of a steep drop-off by some rocks.

Big Indian's orange canister, bolted to a beech tree, has the mountain's name written on the outside as well as the inside (most only label the inside).

A wide view of the summit. Note the foliage; despite an elevation of 3681', the forest atop Big Indian is deciduous, lacking the dense evergreens that crowd many shorter summits. This may be due to the mountain's insular position within the Catskills and its southerly location. On this hike I found hemlock trees growing well above 3000', which I've never seen anywhere else in the Catskills.

Big Indian and Eagle Mountains are often climbed together, as are Fir and Big Indians, but the three mountains are almost never climbed all at once, and I would soon learn why. It was already late afternoon when I departed the summit of Big Indian and headed towards Fir Mountain along a true bushwhack, following a narrow herdpath along the two-mile ridge between the two mountains. The path was actually fairly easy to follow most of the way up, although it was slow going, as many times I had to actively look for the trail in order to find it. Once approaching Fir's summit, however, things get complicated.

The herdpaths at Fir Mountain's top aren't difficult to follow; the problem is that there are so many of them. I couldn't be sure which ones led to the summit, which ones led down the other side of the mountain, and which ones would just fade out after a few hundred feet. I ended up getting turned around and headed down a path that was taking me back the way I had come. This climbed to a false summit north of the actual peak, a region that was so prominent and covered in dense fir trees that I assumed it must be the summit and spent an embarrassing amount of time looking for the canister.

Finally I followed another one of the unmarked trails that led towards the south, and this one eventually took me to the proper summit. Like Big Indian and Eagle, Fir Mountain has no views, so I just signed the canister and rested for a few minutes.

The canister atop Fir Mountain is the least faded of the three. It may be newer, or simply used less often.

A view of the surrounding area. True to its name, Fir Mountain does have some fir trees at the summit, although I suspect its namesake comes from the much more dense false summit on which I got lost.

At this point, it was early evening, and my only goal was to make it back to the trailhead before dark. I headed back the way I had come, following the trail over the false summit and down the mountain. Here, the multitude of herdpaths confused me. I followed one that headed down the mountain for a good while before it petered out, and then I made a terrible mistake: I decided to keep going forward.

It wasn't long before I realized that I was very, very lost. I had a compass and map, but they didn't do me much good, as the trees were so dense that I couldn't see the sky; I had no way of getting a bearing on where I was. The mountainside kept getting steeper and steeper, and after a few bad slips I realized that if things continued I would end up falling and hurting myself. A bit of panic praying led to a break in the treetops, where I could see the surrounding mountains and get my bearings. Unfortunately, my bearings told me I had gone a good distance down the northwest side of the mountain; I needed the southwest.

My fear turned to annoyance as I trudged back up the way I had come and eventually linked up with the main herdpath again along the ridge to Big Indian. At this point I was just grateful to be on a vaguely visible path again; the line "I once was lost but now am found" kept coming to mind. Still, there was a lingering worry the whole way back to Big Indian's summit, as I knew that I could lose track of the herdpath and become lost again very easily. I couldn't wait to be back on a marked trail.

I rested briefly atop Big Indian before heading off on the six-mile grind back to the trailhead. I did beat the darkness, but only just barely; I ended up quite literally 'driving off into the sunset'. After the excitement I had had on my last bushwhack, this hike was a bit more sobering, reminding me that as much fun as bushwhacking can be, there is always a sense of danger, and losing sight of that can easily be disastrous.

A black bear (Ursus americanus) fleeing the road after I quite nearly hit it on the drive home. I didn't have time to get out my camera for a good picture.