Saturday afternoon brought blue skies and plenty of sun. It also brought the dreaded hike. Just as I'm not a fan of camping, I'm also not fond of hiking. I'm always afraid of twisting an ankle or some similar catastrophe. But being caught up in the spirit of the weekend, I agreed to go. Our fearless leader (the pack's Cubmaster) assured me that it wouldn't be a bad hike. He told me that the trail only goes about a mile out, although (and this is the important part) "it gets a little steep at the end." Uh, huh. Sure.
See this pretty picture? Lovely trees and lake, beautiful mountain view, right?
It was taken from here. Yeah. When he said "a little steep at the end" what he really meant was "We're going to climb a mountain." I kid you not.
Really.
We're not 100% sure which mountain it was (we only know that the trail was called "Duke Rock Trail"), but as near as we can figure it was Graves Mountain, elevation 2,313 feet. Not the biggest peak in the Adirondacks, but much higher than I ever thought I'd go. Or could go.
But it really was a beautiful view. I'm glad I was tricked into going, even if I did think I was going to die at various times during the climb. :)
The boys made it up the mountain with no major problems. Griffin tripped and fell on his face twice on the flat part of the hike, but managed the climb without incident. He's weird like that.
This was taken as we came back down. I need this little reminder that yes, fat chicks really can climb mountains.
Oh, and the really bad Photoshop crown is so you can't see how horrible my hair looked after all the sweating I did along the way. :)
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