Sawyer, Little Sawyer mountains

Summer hike

A guided adventure up Sawyer, Little Sawyer mountains

By SPENCER MORRISSEY

The plan was to hike the trail up Sawyer Mountain and then bushwhack over to Little Sawyer and loop back to the cars at the trailhead. I wasn’t too sure how many individuals I would get to sign up for this little jaunt through the forest, but I was optimistic and sure they would have a great time once they were there.

In all, there were 12 going. I was taken aback to have 12 people hike an obscure peak, and on a Monday no less.

Sawyer is a named peak with a trail as seen on most maps. Little Sawyer is an unnamed peak southeast of Sawyer and is only named on a couple of maps that I have seen.

Arriving at the rendezvous spot in Long Lake, I was made aware that five people had canceled at the last minute, but I still had seven “eager beavers” on board. We arrived at the trailhead for Sawyer, where three hikers met the rest of us. It’s always great to see familiar faces.

“Are there any decent views from these mountains?” I was asked.

“I don’t remember, ” I jokingly said. “Guess we’ll find out. ”

I can’t ruin the suspense before we even set foot in the woods.

After an overview on the day ahead, we set off up the trail. It was an excellent time getting to meet the new ones in the group and everyone seemed to hit it off really well.

“Hey, Spencer, are we there yet?” I heard coming from the one-inevery-crowd hiker. Of course, we were only a half a mile away from the trailhead at this point. I knew it was going to be one of those days.

We quickly found ourselves at the only steep section of the trail that climbs up a small slab rock area. I awarded our first break atop here. Moving on, we quickly came to the view off Sawyer Mountain, which is not off the true summit of Sawyer. We took in the views over the “Little High Peaks” and the foothills to the south.

From here it would be all bushwhack up and over the true summit of Sawyer Mountain and eventually over to Little Sawyer. Like myself, there were a few others on the trip who enjoy standing atop the true summit of the lower peaks in the Adirondacks. It was almost a given that we needed to detour a little over the easy tenth of a mile to the true summit. Everyone agreed.

The top was fully wooded, the obvious reason for the trail to stop shy at the view. It was covered in saplings and bramble that seemed to reach out and grab our ankles. We didn’t stay long.

We then started a long but gentle descent off Sawyer. We headed mainly south through the open woods and then more easterly to approach the wetland in the valley. I didn’t want to hit the wetland straight on since I was unsure of its condition, and I didn’t want to find us having to circumnavigate a marsh. I half expected it to be only a grassy field. The forest pushed us right down to the edge, and to my prediction, it was a wetland that had dried up into a gorgeous grassy area.

We entered the grassland with a slightly squishy floor under our feet. The grass was as tall as, if not taller than, some of the hikers. It was quite a vision to see, just heads bobbing above the reeds. We had hoped for some wildlife in the area, but I’m sure the noise we made approaching the vly was disturbing.

The opposite side was open forest as we started to climb up the shoulder to Little Sawyer. I had been on Little Sawyer a few times in the past but not ever in this exact location or following this exact route. It was amazing. As we climbed, the terrain got steeper, and bands of rock walls started to almost form before our eyes. We passed by large boulders and skirted the walls that were before us. We even had a team-building event that brought us through a small rocky split in the wall.

Now that the steep sections were behind us, we had a mellow stroll through the woods, passing by more erratics and a small cave produced by the boulders. We could almost smell the summit.

“You are probably leading us up to a wooded summit. There better be something there, ” came the heckling from the back of the pack.

“Boy I sure hope so!” I responded in sarcasm. “You know under my contract I only have to bring back 75% of the participants. ”

Soon they would be in awe with the sights. A tight band of spruce trees blocked the top, but soon an open rock ledge was under their feet. A unique balanced boulder rested on the spine of the summit, almost taunting hikers to try and push it off. The camera shutters were smoking in the hands of everyone who now took their focus off the hike and on the outstanding views in front of them.

Eventually we sat atop a small rock shelf, lined up for a summit photo and a bite to eat. After about 30 minutes on the summit, we needed to start back down. Nobody wanted to go, but the shadows were getting longer.

We made our heading true north back to Route 28, which would bring us about a half a mile from the bus. Hiking back to the trailhead was a thoughtless venture as we reminisced about the views and talked about future outings. The forest was welcoming, and the hardwoods tall as they gently let us pass beneath them. The cackle of the pileated woodpecker in the distance feasting on some insect-infested snag was all that filtered the jabbering of eight happy souls and the tapping of 16 tired soles. We didn’t even mind walking the roadside; it felt good under our feet, solid and secure, and in no time at all we could see the trailhead on the horizon.