The 10 Best Day Hikes in the Adirondack High Peaks

Known for climbing hotspots like Sex Cave, lots of people know how good Milton Reimer’s Ranch is for its rock formations. Mountain bikers and hikers also know it well for its 20 miles of trails (and growing), including everything from beginner-friendly strolls to pro-level, Triple Black Diamond singletrack. It’s even a great destination for horseback riding, as it features several equestrian-only trails. With its access to the Pedernales River, Reimer’s Ranch also offers a great relief for swimmers seeking an alternative when they get turned away from the easily crowded Hamilton Pool, just down the road. And at only about a half-hour from Downtown Austin, it’s an easy day trip for anyone wanting to get out of the city and into Hill Country nature. Reimers Pool in the fall Dave Brown First opened in 2005, Reimer’s Ranch is a relatively new Travis County park that has a lot to offer. They’ve recently added new facilities and continue to improve their offerings—including a new observatory that will begin providing star-gazing sessions in 2015. But since its opening, beyond its regular attractions, hardly anyone has seen all the rugged backcountry and adjacent tracts of native land that surround the park. When the summer crowds thin out, however, the park offers guided tours of its sacred backcountry, which includes walks on unnamed, undeveloped trails—many of which aren’t as much trails as they are just paths of least resistance. As you walk, park guides will tell you the natural history of the place and point out some of the native flora and fauna that have inhabited the land for thousands of years. Reimer's Ranch guide Nathan Kaplan points out ferns in a creek-side cliff in the park's rarely seen backcountry. Dave Brown They’ll also tell you about its more recent history as ranchland. Things like how the Reimer family used it for grazing goats until the goat industry bottomed-out, when they shifted to sheep grazing. And how Mr. Reimer bought it from Mr. Hamilton, who owned it in the 1800s and grazed cattle there. You will see evidence of its ranching past in things like partially hidden, really old homestead and ranch equipment: remnants of an old wood burning stove in a bunch of bluestem grass over here, or an old horse-drawn plow laying permanently at rest in a cactus patch over there. You’ll also learn how before its days as a true Texas ranch, native tribes called the land home, including the Apache, Comanche, and other tribes. If you look closely where the soil has been disturbed, there’s even a chance you just might find an arrowhead, or at least a chert rock that was worked by an Apache perhaps 300 years ago. As evidence of how little known these tours are, I was the only guest on this guided hike. I had basically a private tour, led by two guides who showed me around their backyard—a very big backyard. They took me past the boundary gates, and into the Pogue and Hogue tracts, the rugged stretches of land between Reimer’s Ranch and Hamilton Pool Preserve. There, they brought me to Pogue Creek and down to Pogue Pool, which, even though it remains technically unnamed, that’s what they called it, “because, well, it just makes sense.” I saw the seeps from which the creek originates, and the clear, deep water which is populated by perch and bass; I saw cypress trees that are probably 500 years old; and sycamores stretching their roots into the cool waters; and at least three different species of ferns clinging to the cliffs that wall the creek. There was also a large snake skin, either from a rattler or a cottonmouth, and lots of other wildlife. This is the rarely seen backcountry at Reimer’s Ranch, where you can get a real experience of old land, where not everything is named or landscaped or paved or made easily accessible. Where hardly anything is controlled. Where almost everything is wild. If you want to enjoy rugged, Texas Hill Country land in its true natural state, you must make a visit. Backcountry tours are included in the $10 park entrance fee and run fall through spring, October through May, Saturdays only, at 10:00 am. The gathering point is in the mountain biking trailhead’s parking lot. Just pay your park entrance fee to the ranger at the main entrance booth, and they’ll tell you where to go. The tour lasts between one to two hours, depending on your group’s pace. The guides are pretty casual about it. Just be sure to wear sturdy, closed-toe shoes – no heels or flip-flops – because you will be walking off-trail, surrounded by things that can poke and bite. Enjoy!

An Ozark native, much of my youth was spent visiting enchanting places such as Whitaker Point, which made the cover of my Arkansas History textbook, and camping with my family along the Buffalo River. However, it wasn’t until a special spring morning in the Upper Buffalo Wilderness that my understanding of the Ozarks’ beauty really shifted. I woke in a friend’s hand-built cabin on the side of a steep hill. Hoping to take advantage of the sunrise, I made my way onto the dew-soaked forest lawn that was the front yard. Between the highlights of morning sun and the young green flora, I was fully captivated. Species of trees unlike any I’d ever seen sparked curiosity, numerous spider webs hid between long streaks of grass, and the dew made the entire landscape sparkle. A hike later that day took us across unmarked hills that revealed even more beauty. We encountered damp cave openings, waterfalls of all strengths, and sweeping overlooks of the snaking Buffalo River around every bend. Big skies framed scattered cabins and treetops. It was on this day that my understanding of my home state widened. I realized that my backyard in the Ozarks had the potential to teach me everything I needed to know about the natural world. With newfound awe for the beauty of the forests, hills, and water of the Ozarks over four distinct seasons, I began to making regular weekend trips to explore as much as possible. I found that no matter where you go, the Ozarks do not disappoint. Hemmed in Hollow. Jeff Rose A drive from town to town within the Ozark National Forest is one way to start. You’ll be aching to take every side road to discover what may be hidden that way. Here’s a list of just seven of the most picturesque spots in the national forest. Whitaker Point Whitaker Point, Hawksbill Crag. Jeff Rose Any Arkansas local will suggest you spend a full day visiting this bluff, and a walk down Hawsbill Crag Trail alone (three miles round trip) makes for the perfect leisurely afternoon. Whitaker Point is a large bluff in the shape of a wolf’s head. The Disney movie “Tuck Everlasting” was filmed here. Big Bluff View from the Goat Trail. Jeff Rose I first encountered Big Bluff, or the Goat Trail, in the middle of January just before a huge snowstorm. Through barren trees, the view was incredible. I’ve been back since in every season, and the view never disappoints actually. After a steep, but very clearly marked downhill hike through the forest, one is led to the more narrow goat trail along the side of a giant bluff. The trail offers chances for hikers to pause within hollow cave walls and ponder the course of the Buffalo River below... Indian Creek A challenging and slippery trail follows the length of Indian Creek, which gives birth to a one-of-a-kind world of mosses, ferns, bugs, and miniature waterfalls. A hike along Indian Creek eventually leads to the Eye of the Needle outlook that frames the distant hills of the Ozarks. Richland Falls Richland Creek. Jeff Rose Richland Falls runs nearly year round but are especially picturesque after a good rain. The hike there also offers views of Hamilton Falls, Twin Falls, and others. It’s not uncommon to encounter swimmers jumping from their safe heights. Compton’s Double Falls Compton's Double Falls. Jeff Rose One of the best things about the Ozarks is waterfall hunting. Compton’s Double Falls is one you’ll want to find, especially after a heavy rain. Access it just past the trailhead for the Hawsbill Crag Trail. Sam’s Throne Sam's Throne. Jeff Rose This massive flat sandstone spot is a great place to set up slack line, chill after a day in the hills, or capture an epic starscape. Sam’s Throne is also rock climbing destination, with 75-foot pitches. My favorite time to visit Sam’s Throne is in the fall as the leaves change color. The Narrows The Narrows. Jeff Rose For a day hike or weekend commitment, the Narrows, or Nars, has a short approach to a unique geological feature from which to view the winding waters below. Located near Richland Creek, the Nars gets it namesake from the narrow rock walk leading to the bluff. Written by Ashleigh Price for RootsRated in partnership with Backwoods.

There is a string of mountains in Colorado I hold near and dear to my heart, where green high-alpine valleys dotted with wildflowers like confetti meet dizzying rock spires, and steep, grassy hillsides tumble into the shimmering waters of untouched lakes. The effort to reach this pristine wilderness is not for the faint of heart: Getting there often involves steep elevation gains, poorly maintained trails, or sometimes, no trail at all. It took me four years to find these spots, and I could spend a lifetime discovering every valley, ridgeline, and high alpine creek among them. This glorious sense of discovering something new is at the heart of exploring the wilderness, but it’s getting harder and harder to do these days. People are getting outdoors in record numbers, which is generally a positive, but one downside is the increasing difficulty of finding that "secret" spot that no one knows about. But it’s these very places that keep the adventure alive. Here, a few tricks to finding your secret wilderness spot. Start Training You’ll need to get in good fighting shape to conquer the necessary terrain in finding most secluded spots. Meg Atteberry Generally speaking, the more secret the spot, the more shape you’ll need to be in to find it. So before starting your quest to discover your wilderness hideaway, you’ll want to be prepared for longer distances and tougher terrain. As unromantic as it sounds, finding a great hideaway is a numbers game in many ways. If you’re able to hike longer, tougher trails, you’ll open up more terrain. Furthermore, you can outhike the crowds that plague many of the easier routes. Starting a training regimen can often feel tougher than the hike itself. Whatever method you choose (running, the gym, swimming), be sure to include plenty of hiking in the mix. Load up a heavy pack and hit the trail or treadmill. If you are confined to a treadmill, be sure to put the incline as high as possible to simulate those tough hills in the wilderness. Integrate this technique into your weekly training routine, and you’ll start seeing results in four to six weeks. Explore Often You aren’t going to find your wilderness Shangri-La from the confines of the couch. The more you explore a wilderness areas, the more apt you are to find that perfect camping nook or undiscovered mountain vista. A good place to start is an area that has a lot of hiking trails, such as a National Forest. Try creating your own custom route by connecting various trails. Investigate the road less traveled by hiking lesser-trafficked trails. This doesn’t always pay off, as some trails simply suck. However, you may discover a gateway to an idyllic perch or a secret fishing spot. Scouting trails not only helps you get a lay of the land, but it lets you keep tabs on a particular area. For example, my favorite wilderness area is well-known for its brutal elevation gains and downed trees. But those obstacles also work in my favor a bit by deterring less determined hikers. It also means I can count on a bit of suffering to explore new trails. Hone a Keen Eye for Clues You aren’t going to find pristine wilderness on a local Facebook group—these idyllic nooks and crannies are everyone’s private stock and they aren’t about to shout it over the internet. So you’ll have to do your own homework, starting with a good old-fashioned pen and paper. While you are out and about, keep tabs on backcountry campsites you find. Jot down important notes such as mileage, difficulty, and a description of each site. If you travel with a digital GPS, you can mark your position on a map. Keep your eyes peeled in unlikely places, such as Jeep roads and remote destinations. Sometimes a great camping spot is right near the road, but you have to walk in for a bit. Instead of passing an area by, get out of your vehicle and sniff around. With a little practice, you’ll learn how to spot a potential site by using your instinct. Don’t be afraid of using a topo map. Topo maps give valuable insight into terrain and navigation. When you’re planning your trip, be sure to spend plenty of time examining terrain using tools such as CalTopo and Google Earth. The Best Spot May Be Around the Next Bend A little bit of persistence can make a big difference in finding your secret spot. Meg Atteberry I’ve found beautifully secluded peaks right in plain sight. Sometimes, all you need to do to find them is be willing to keep going. For example, after you set up camp, do a little exploring around your campsite. You may be sharing that gorgeous high-alpine lake, but you just might be the only one climbing that steep ridge for the better view. With a little extra effort, you discover stunning landscapes that everyone else is missing, right under their nose. Get Off the Trail Sometimes, the best spots aren’t near a trail at all. With a little compass know-how and navigation expertise, you can explore virtually any point on the map. Use your navigation skills to plan a cross-country or off-trail route to discover truly unspoiled terrain. This technique requires a healthy bit of backcountry know-how and plenty of safety preparation. Always leave your planned route, with a GPX file if possible, with someone you trust. Be sure to let them know where you are going, what you are doing, when you plan on being back, and what to do if something goes wrong. You can also try starting with an area you are extremely familiar with. Plan your route in an easy-to-navigate area, such as a place with a predominant land marker so you can orient yourself quickly. Wherever You Go, Leave No Trace Wherever you find your secret spot, be sure to treat it with respect and follow LNT principles. Meg Atteberry Remember, always follow Leave No Trace principles when traveling over backcountry terrain. Don’t disrupt the environment and be sure to camp on durable surfaces, such as dirt patches, rock, sand, and gravel. Avoid stomping or camping on vegetation. If you are in an area with lichen or other bio soils, be sure to not tramp or camp on them. Lastly, if you are in a larger group, fan out over delicate terrain in order to avoid tamping down a trail. With a some effort and a sense of adventure you can uncover your perfect wilderness hideaway. Get out and start exploring—you never know what you’ll discover, and where. Written by Meg Atteberry for RootsRated.

My partner Jacob and I don't have children. We have a dog, Shylie—our 10-year-old wolf-like black-and-tan mutt. We are insane parents. Shylie gets filet mignon on her birthday. She has an Instagram account and a blog. We’ve designed Shylie-themed t-shirts, calendars, and bumper stickers. We sing to her all day, every day, that she’s the best dog in the world. This dog is adored. Shylie's bred for dogsledding, but she's spent her whole life on the beach, in Santa Cruz, California. Jacob and I are aware that she has only a few good years left, so we decided this summer, before she gets too old, to show her what she's made for: the mountains. A big yawn from Shylie. Kara Guzman For two long weekends each month, we've gone backpacking near Lake Tahoe, in the Desolation Wilderness, 200 miles northeast of San Francisco. It's dog heaven: pine forests and wildflower meadows full of chipmunks and dozens of alpine lakes to jump in. We already knew that Shylie loves running at altitude, in cool mountain forests. We’ve taken her mountain biking near Lake Tahoe dozens of times (since unlike Santa Cruz, the trails are dog-friendly and don’t have poison oak). But Shylie’s never gone backpacking before. As much as we love this dog, we’ve never spent four days and nights around the clock with her. Days of quality time with her humans, and of all places, in the mountains? It was a no-brainer. We knew she would have the time of her life. Shylie faithfully follows the author on the barren climb to Middle Velma Lake. Jacob Meyberg What we didn’t realize was that the 100-square-mile Desolation Wilderness, with its roughly 130 lakes and patchwork of creeks, is perfect for dogs. We don’t carry water for Shylie since there are freshwater stops less than a mile apart on almost every trail. Plus, she loves to jump in, shake, and cool off. Out here, the old dog plays like a puppy. At dusk, when we pitch our tent at one of the hundreds of lakeside campsites, she freezes in a play stance, with her butt in the air. Then she’s off, careening around the campsite like her tail’s on fire. It turns out the Desolation Wilderness is perfect for Jacob and me, too. We had snowball fights in July. We taught ourselves to fish for trout. We swam naked to granite islands in ice-cold lakes all to ourselves. We were surprised by a hailstorm on an 80-degree day and huddled for cover with the dog under a warm, sun-baked boulder. We hiked portions of the Pacific Crest Trail, and as according to custom, made trail nicknames. (Mine was ‘Squiter Heaven.) Shylie briefly tolerates a portrait with a juniper tree overlooking the Desolation Valley. Kara Guzman Another highlight during our Desolation excursions this summer have been the meals. Jacob’s parents gave us a food dehydrator, and I’ve been using my backcountry cookbook. In my pack, I lug a bear canister stuffed with homemade dried goodies, like duck soup, carrot salad, and even masoor dal. One night at Dick’s Lake, we had peanut chicken stew under the stars, watching bats eat mosquitoes. While the food heated on our tiny stove, Jacob hand-fed Shylie her kibble, which I portioned into plastic bags for each meal. The nights are cold and windy in the Sierra Nevada Mountains, so Shylie sleeps in our tent, where she pins me like a wrestler as she snuggles my sleeping bag. Then each morning, we climb a new granite peak and count all the lakes. Occasionally, Shylie surprises a grouse on the trail, and it heaves its plump, brown body into flight, drumming its wings before gliding to a branch. Yellow-bellied marmots—chubby gopher-like rodents that look like teddy bears—squawk as they poke their heads from the rocks, like a real-life game of Whack-a-Mole. Each day, there are new flowers, too. This summer the Desolation Wilderness was simply blooming with wildflowers, after the first wet winter in a five-year drought. Each weekend, the landscape’s colors have shifted and I'm constantly delighted, as we hike from one terrain to the next. My partner Jacob checks out a snowbank while Shylie looks for chipmunks Kara Guzman Shylie, meanwhile, constantly sniffs for chipmunks. When she hears the tiniest squeak, she surges up rocky cliffs or down steep ravines, like a kamikaze pilot. Some of the trails are made of sharp, granite shards, which are tough on Shylie’s paws, but the terrain doesn’t phase her. She’s at home in the mountains. She runs twice as far and as fast out here compared to anywhere else. She's finally doing what she's meant to: She’s exploring the wilderness with her "pack." And in a way, so am I. When I can go consecutive days without seeing a screen, I’m happy. That little voice in my head, the one that worries about stupid things, disappears. My focus narrows to the view at hand and the trail ahead. Part of me though, hears the ticking clock. It knows this paradise won’t last, and these weekend escapes with the dog are numbered. Shylie hangs her tongue after climbing to the top of the Bayview Trail. Eagle Lake is seen from above. Jacob Meyberg The cruel trick of loving a dog is how fast they age. I’m dreading the future, when Shylie’s eyes are too cloudy to see and her hips too creaky to chase. And—I don’t even want to write it—I’m dreading that horrible veterinarian appointment, when we say our goodbyes. If my crazy love affair with this dog has taught me one thing, it’s to be conscious and aware of every single moment. I’ve literally spent days gazing into the dog’s eyes, wondering what she’s thinking, what that voice in her head sounds like. I mean, is she barking in there? After months of observing Shylie, I’ve realized that she is the ultimate Zen master. She’s not thinking at all. When she’s outside, she’s listening for chipmunks. She’s sniffing coyote markings on a tree. She’s picking a line across a granite scree. She’s scratching her back on a pile of pine cones. She’s tasting the snowmelt. Take note. This is what life is about. The author follows Shylie on the descent to Granite Lake. Jacob Meyberg TIPS: Backcountry camping permits cost $5 per person per night. Campers must pick a “zone” for their first night, then are free to camp anywhere on their next night. Reservations can be made online, but most of the popular zones are filled through September. A limited number of walk-in spots are available for each zone. Same-day walk-in permits are available at the four Forest Service Permit OfficesForest Service Permit Offices throughout the Lake Tahoe area. The line starts forming around 7 a.m. on Fridays and Saturdays, so get there early. According to the rules, dogs should be on-leash in the Desolation Wilderness, but most owners don’t follow those rules in the backcountry. However, if you’re going to take your dog off-leash, it should be well-trained, and know the “come” and “leave it” commands. Some wildlife can be dangerous to dogs, such as porcupines and ticks, etc. Many of the trails in the Desolation Wilderness are rocky and tough on dog paws. We’ve used Musher's Secret wax with some success. (Our dog likes to lick it off.) Others use booties for their dogs. Written by Kara Guzman for RootsRated.