The Hardest Day Hike in Central Texas? Lost Maples East Trail

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!

For those on the West Coast, 4,000-foot peaks might not even be worth blinking at. Not so, in the East. With our cities, and even most of our trailheads, sitting at less than 1,000 feet above sea level, it’s the comparatively small 4- and 5,000 footers that tower above. But even if these ancient, weathered peaks may be somewhat modest in size compared to the behemoths of the West, it certainly doesn’t make them any less spectacular. Upstate New York’s Adirondacks are home to 46 (give or take) “High Peaks” that make up a cherished and historic list defined by a magical line at 4,000 feet. What these rugged summits lack in elevation, they more than make up for in vertical gain (matching if not exceeding many of their western day hike counterparts), trail toughness, and downright beauty as they tower over some of the densest and most stunning backcountry on the continent. From rocky alpine summits to trail-less bushwhacks, here are the 10 all-around best 46ers in the Adirondacks. 1. Mount Colden Distance: 12.6 miles Rating: Difficult There’s no need to wait for the summit to enjoy the views on this hike. Within the first few miles, hikers pass a number of spots worthy of day hiking to on their own. The clearing where Marcy Dam once stood leaves visitors staring up toward Colden and Wright Peaks. Then, only a little further, the steep, narrow cut between Colden and the MacIntyre Range swallows the trail entirely. Avalanche Pass is a highlight to rival canyons and gorges everywhere. Continue up and down the ladders and boardwalks that negotiate the rocks between Avalanche Lake and the cliffs. Then, venture along the “hitch-up-matildas,” which are walkways bolted right to the rocks where it drops straight into the water. From picturesque Lake Colden, the trail cuts back and up toward Colden itself where you’ll be able to take in arguably the best views of any high peak. Colden’s bare summit sits right in the center of the most exciting part of the ‘Daks and offers unencumbered views of rocky summits in every direction. 2. Gothics Mountain Distance: 11.6 miles Rating: Moderate The Great Range snakes through the peaks from Route 73 like an arrow shot toward Mount Marcy’s summit. Between peaks on the range, trails drop, seemingly forever, making following the chain a grueling experience, while on either side of the line, the mountains drop from summit to valley in cascades of steep rock. Gothics, in the center of the range, offers spectacular views of the surrounding peaks and valleys from its panoramic summit. The valley forming the south side of the range has a dirt road (not open to vehicles) giving access to that side of the range and allowing for easy cruising. From halfway up the road, the Beaver Meadows Falls Trail toward Gothics cuts up into the range, quickly passing its namesake waterfall (perfect for cooling your feet on the way down) before winding higher up to the slides, and eventually the summit of Gothics become visible. 3. Mount Marcy Distance: 14.8 miles Rating: Moderate There’s something about the highest—especially when its original name, Tahawus, translates to something as intimidating and cool as “Cloud Splitter.” Mount Marcy is an instant classic for a lot of reasons, including its height. But its also the long, gradual approach, long and steep summit, and commanding views that put it at the top of a lot of people’s list of favorites. 4. Mount Skylight Distance: 17.2 miles (minimum) Rating: Difficult Relatively less-visited, the south side of Mount Marcy is nearly as deep as a hiker or backpacker can get in the High Peaks. The makings of a very long single day, Skylight is often approached as an overnight from one of multiple different directions. An intersection known as the Four Corners sits between Marcy and Skylight, but is also adjacent to Lake Tear of the Clouds, the highest lake in the state and the source of what eventually becomes the mighty Hudson River. From the Four Corners, a quick jaunt leads onto Skylight’s bare summit which offers a unique, southern vantage of the rest of the mountains on one side—dominated by Marcy’s massive summit cone—and the relatively tame southern Adirondacks in the opposite direction. 5. Big Slide Mountain Distance: 9.5 miles Rating: Easy A great introduction to the High Peaks, the loop over Big Slide makes for a fun day, not short on things to look at. Starting nearly from the trailhead, the route climbs a series of three smaller summits known as The Brothers, before leading to the main summit, offering continuous views that get progressively better with elevation. The summit itself is a great vantage of the Great Range, laid out left to right across the horizon with Gothics’ scarred face dead center. Continuing the loop down the mountain to Johns Brook, the route finishes with a hike out through the valley that flanks the northern side of the Great Range. If you can find it along the brook, Tenderfoot Pools’ swirling eddies and rocks are the perfect place to cool down before the trailhead. 6. Cascade Mountain Distance: 4.8 miles Rating: Easy Close enough to the road to make it the only high peak summit you can plainly see from its trailhead, Cascade is another favorite for first-timers. Its quick access and spectacular views also make it a popular choice for those interested in getting an early start and being on its broad, rocky summit for sunrise! 7. Dix Mountain Distance: 15.3 miles Rating: Difficult If you’re ready for an adventure, there’s nothing quite like a climb up one of the characteristic gray scars marking the side of many High Peaks. Formed by landslides that scrape away soil and vegetation down to bedrock, slide climbing isn’t for the faint of heart but does give hikers a more remote and rugged experience than they might normally get. Dix Mountain’s Beckhorn Slide clears a rock and grass highway from the base to nearly the summit, but just to get to the base, it requires a long hike through the mountain’s secluded east side, then a bushwhack up a drainage. Once on the slide, which isn’t for the faint of heart or those uncomfortable with exposure, it’s as simple as picking the best looking line to the small summit. 8. Rocky Peak Ridge Distance: 13.4 miles Rating: Moderate Although longer than the stair climb up to the saddle between it and Giant Mountain, the trail from New Russia is one that many would consider to be one of the finest in the region. The continuous views up to the panoramic summit of Rocky Peak are seriously hard to beat—even by its taller neighbor, Giant. 9. Allen Mountain Distance: 19.1 miles Rating: Difficult For the vast majority of people, a 20-mile day up a single steep mountain with lackluster views would not be a pleasurable experience. Granted, Allen is more about the hike than the mountain itself, but it’s a hike worth doing for those up to the challenge. A long day of tracing old, winding logging roads over gently rolling terrain and along crystal clear gurgling brooks makes Allen a memorable one. The second half of the route is one of the ‘Daks' famous “trail-less” routes, meaning the trail is not marked or maintained by the state like most other routes. Although not impossible to follow, trails like these require a keen eye and better attention than you might be able to use on other hikes. 10. Algonquin Peak Distance: 8.6 miles Rating: Moderate The climb from the Adirondak Loj to the summit of Algonquion, the state’s second tallest peak, is a quick jolt into one of the highest of New York’s alpine regions. Only a hundred feet lower than Marcy, hikers heading up to Algonquin climb nearly the same amount in nearly half the mileage. The views from the bare summit cone are impressive enough to make it worth it, tracing a straight line to Colden then Marcy, shrouded in the Great Range and numerous other summits. Written by Ryan Wichelns for RootsRated.

Across Great Smoky Mountains National Park, miles of interconnected trails meander through lush, green valleys, hug the banks of moss-laden, rocky creeks, and climb through thickets of mountain laurel and rhododendron to the blue-tinged mountain peaks. You could spend weeks backpacking through this rich landscape, but a weekend trip will also allow you to experience the best of the Smokies. To help you plan your visit, we’ve highlighted three backpacking loops that give you the Appalachian Trail, streamside and ridgeline campsites, killer views, and enough distance and elevation to satisfy your inner weekend warrior. Big Creek Loop Combining the best of frontcountry and backcountry camping, the Big Creek area on the northeastern tip of the park off I-40 offers something for every level of hiker. Tackle a 21.5-mile loop over big peaks or lower your mileage and elevation with a night at one of the sweetest creekside campsites in the park. Either way, you’ll hike the AT through some of the most scenic terrain in the Smokies. You will be in constant awe of the beauty on Big Creek Loop. Rock/Creek Roll into Big Creek Friday night to enjoy campground amenities like restrooms, dinner at a picnic table, and campsites with fire rings. You’ll be up early on Saturday to climb the Chestnut Branch Trail 2 miles to the Appalachian Trail. One of the shortest AT access points, the trail passes the remains of homesteads that pre-date the national park. Turn south on the AT and continue climbing 3.3 miles to the 0.6-mile Mt. Cammerer fire tower spur trail. At 4,928 feet, the tower overlooks the Pigeon River Gorge to the north and Mt. Sterling to the south. From the fire tower, it’s a moderate descent 2.1 miles to the Low Gap Trail. Take Low Gap 2.5 miles to campsite #37 at the Big Creek Trail junction. Right on the banks of Big Creek, you’d be hard pressed to find a more spacious backcountry site in the park. On Sunday, you can go big or go home, as they say. Going big means a hike up the Swallow Falls Trail 4 miles to the Mt. Sterling Ridge Trail. It’s another 1.4 miles and more climbing to an elevation of 5,842 feet on Mt. Sterling. Climb Sterling’s 60-foot steel fire tower for panoramic views of Cataloochee Valley, the Black Mountains, and the Southern Appalachians. Now, the downhill endurance test begins, with a 4,000-foot elevation loss over 6 miles on the Baxter Creek Trail. If you opt to go home, you can sleep in, savor your coffee by the campfire, and still have plenty of time to hike the moderate, 5-mile descent along Big Creek back to the campground, passing two stunning waterfalls and plenty of swimming holes along the way. Big Creek loop ends with a 4,000-foot elevation loss over 6 miles on the Baxter Creek Trail. virgntn2011 Big Creek Campground is open from April through October and makes a great base camp for groups by serving a wide variety of abilities and interests. On your way home, make sure you leave enough time to refuel at Carver’s Apple Orchard in Cosby, Tenn. At Carver’s you can shop for fresh produce at the farmers market, nab awesome treats at an old-time candy shop, and feast at a homestyle restaurant, where the apple fritters are not to be missed. Twentymile Loop In the southwest corner of the Smokies you’ll find a lesser-used trailhead that leads to the AT and one of the most scenic balds in the park. From this trailhead, you’ll log 17.6 miles on the way to Gregory Bald, sleeping one night on the AT and camping the other night on the bald. Start off Friday afternoon at the Twentymile Ranger Station off Highway 28 near the border of North Carolina and Tennessee. A non-technical climb takes you 4.5 miles to meet the AT at Sassafras Gap. Campsite #113, at Birch Spring Gap, is less than 1 mile north of the trail junction. If time allows late Friday or early Saturday morning, head south on the AT for 360-degree views at sunset or sunrise from the top of Shuckstack Fire Tower. The historic lookout isn’t regularly maintained, so watch your step on the 200-foot climb to the top. In the southwest corner of the Smokies you’ll find the lesser-used Twentymile Loop trailhead. Chris M Morris You’ll resume your northward journey on the AT, traveling 2 miles over Doe Knob to the next trail junction. Next, take Gregory Bald Trail west a little more than 3 miles to campsite #13 on the bald. Known for spectacular flame azalea blooms each year in mid to late June, the grassy high-elevation meadow offers stunning views of Cades Cove, Fontana Lake, and Clingmans Dome. On Sunday, make the final 6.3-mile descent to the trailhead on the wide, non-technical Wolf Ridge Trail. Refuel at Fontana Village, just over 6 miles down Highway 28, before heading home. Burgers and brews will hit the spot at Wildwood Grill, while the Mountainview Restaurant highlights seasonal produce, along with fresh, local rainbow trout. Deep Creek Loop Along Deep Creek loop you’ll pass Indian Creek Falls. Alan Cressler Enjoy the streams and waterfalls of the Deep Creek area in the south-central region of the Smokies on this 28.2-mile loop. You’ll also spend a night in an AT shelter and exit on one of the longest continuously descending trails in the Smokies. You’ve barely left the Deep Creek Ranger Station before you come across Tom Branch Falls and Indian Creek Falls. Once you pass these Instagram-worthy stops, it’s a slight uphill grade for 4 miles along the moderately rocky Deep Creek Trail to campsites 54-59. Claim a site for Friday evening (all but one are non-reservable) to enjoy the refreshing waters of Deep Creek and thickly wooded campsites. Creek crossings and easy bushwacking are on the agenda Saturday, as you hike another 4 miles to the Fork Ridge Trail. Fork Ridge ascends 5 miles to Clingmans Dome Road and the AT. A short hike north takes you to the Mount Collins shelter, where you’ll spend the night in a high-elevation spruce-fir forest and dramatically cooler, drier conditions. Enjoy the shelter amenities, like cozy bunks and a fireplace inside. Hike down from Clingmans Dome Road to start your final 11.4-mile descent. Kevin Stewart Photography The pre-dawn hike south to Clingmans Dome is highly recommended for 360 degrees of sunrise from the highest point in the Smokies. Hike 2 miles down Clingmans Dome Road to the Noland Divide Trailhead to start your final 11.4-mile descent. The trail slopes gently for the first 5 miles before making a steeper drop into Deep Creek, but there are few roots and rocks to slow you down. Make sure you stop to enjoy the views at Lonesome Pine Overlook along the way. After logging all those miles, nothing’s going to taste more satisfying than a meal and craft beer at The Warehouse at Nantahala Brewing Co. Wrap up your Smokies adventure on the outdoor patio in downtown Bryson City with specialties like the slow-cooked brisket noodle bowl, apple bourbon pork chops, or Bryson City Brown Ale chicken along with a flagship or seasonal draft. Written by Ann Gibson for RootsRated in partnership with OrthoCarolina.

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.