Street & Nye Mountains – 002-003
My first herd path.
Coming off the high of summiting Wright, Brody and I were more than ready for more high peaks. Sure, we were tired. Sure, this was supposed to be our drive-home day, with no plans for hiking, let alone two summits. And yes, we went out drinking the night before. But fate had other plans. Running into coworkers from a city five hours away, in the same remote backcountry cabin, on the same night? How could we ignore that?
We set off and almost immediately made a wrong turn among the many trails fanning out from Heart Lake. Five minutes in, we were all huddled around our friend’s phone as he pulled up AllTrails and located us by GPS. Mental note to myself: download this app for future hikes.
Soon after leaving the marked Indian Pass Trail, the herd path to Street and Nye requires a crossing of Indian Pass Brook. There is no bridge, so you rock hop or wade depending on the water. In dry weather it is simple, but after rain or during spring melt, it can be tough or even unsafe. I do not recall if it rained the night before, but the brook was running strong, and none of us wanted to get soaked. We scouted upstream until we found a shallower spot, checking AllTrails constantly.
A herd path is unmarked and unofficial but well-worn. That means no crews are out here clearing logs, fixing steps, or maintaining ladders.
Still, the track does not vanish, it is obvious from heavy use and straightforward to follow. Eventually, we reached a junction where the trail splits. The official DEC signs were missing, replaced by makeshift ones, probably the work of other hikers. It may be a gray area in Leave No Trace, but without them it would have been easy to miss the turn.
By now, exhaustion was hitting me hard. Wright had taken more out of me than I realized. Nye comes first if you head that way, and though it is marked, it offers little more than a small clearing and trees crowding the summit. No views, just a classic wooded peak. Nye stands at 3,895 feet, below the 4,000-foot cutoff, but because early surveys had it over that mark, it remains part of the Adirondack 46 challenge. A little lesson in history mixed with my second summit of the journey.
After a pause, we returned to the junction and pushed on toward Street. At the top, a bit of exploring off the summit path rewarded us with a small break in the trees, just enough to glimpse the MacIntyres. Not spectacular, but a payoff nonetheless.
By then, I was completely drained. The reality of this challenge hit me hard: I had gone in thinking my athleticism would let me crush these hikes one after another. But after three summits, I was sore, limping, and humbled. I borrowed a trekking pole from a friend, stopping often on the descent, which proved harder on my joints than the climb itself. Still, step by step, I made it down.
Back at the Loj, I managed a quick shower before heading home, but my mind was elsewhere. This weekend had been one I am never going to forget. It was my first true plunge into the Adirondacks as an adult, and it tested every assumption I had about strength, endurance, and what it really means to hike in the High Peaks. I had gone in confident, even cocky, thinking athleticism alone would carry me. Instead, I left humbled, sore, and already craving the next challenge.
The Adirondacks are not gentle, and Street and Nye proved that. They are muddy, relentless, and at times thankless, yet they carve something into you that stays long after the soreness fades. I came down limping, but I also came down changed. This was only the beginning of a journey I know will shape me with every peak I climb.
On to the next one.