Baldface Mountain gets you to the epicenter of the northern Adirondacks
By Tim Rowland
I had been planning to hike Baldface in the northern Adirondack town of Duane for some time. Planned in coordination with the final resolution on Debar Lodge, a mid-20th century great camp that’s in a state of flux. Some believe it should be preserved, and others believe it should be torn down. But a final resolution seemed near, making a hike in the neighborhood seem apropos. It’s what we in the journalism business call a “hook.”
I should have remembered, however, that this is the Adirondacks. Which, for expediency, makes Congress look like the express lane at Price Chopper. So the deal fell through. It now appears that if I were to hold out for a final resolution, I will be of an age where I will be unable to hike or do much of anything else. So I reckoned I better strike while the iron is cold.
Baldface, of course, is the massif towering over Debar Pond on the left as you are looking at the water from the old lodge. To the right is Debar Mountain, and together they give the pond a dramatic, fjord-like appearance.
Getting there
The trailhead, as such, is located 12.5 miles. (Don’t let the “.5” delude you into thinking this measurement is in any way precise. I forgot to set the odometer immediately on turning, so it’s more of a best guess) from the intersection of Route 3 and the Port Kent-Hopkinton Turnpike.
The road meanders through the community of Loon Lake before piercing the Sable Highlands Conservation Easement, home of a signature bicycling loop aptly described by Explorer writers Phil Brown and Tom French.
Here, if the leaves are off the trees, you will begin to see Baldface. After entering the Debar Mountain Wild Forest you will wind up tooth by jowl with the mountain’s easterly flank. The starting point is unmarked, but there’s a rather large pull-off that’s obvious on the right. Directly across the road a slightly hollowed out/eroded ding in the roadbank faintly indicates the beginning of the adventure.
This route was flagged with survey tape at one time, but it isn’t now. Only a couple sad little faded snippets still in evidence higher on the mountain. Plus, up in these parts — and I don’t know how this is even legal — they have a habit of using survey tape for actual land surveys. So forget it, any flagging you see around here will only lead you astray.
Straight up
It doesn’t matter, because there’s not a lot of hard-core navigation involved in this hike. It is pretty much a one-mile straight shot to the south-southwest. Through the fast-melting snow, I could see patches of dark ground here and there, so it appears there’s a discernible herd path to the top.
Even without being able to see this path, following its course is intuitive. The route climbs steeply to an obvious break in the cliff band that’s guarding the ridgeline. Once atop the ridge, you jog a bit to the left and follow it to the summit.
The view
Aside from a little bit of a break at the top of the ridge, the route is uniformly steep, gaining 1,050 feet in elevation in just under a mile. To accomplish this stern task, you need to be possessed either of peak physical conditioning or dogged determination. I don’t have either. I only succeeded by promising myself that when I got to the top I could have lunch. (Essentially the same stratagem you would use on your 6-year-old.)
Dominating the view at the top is the imposing Debar Mountain, which almost looks close enough to reach out and touch. Other northern titans like Loon Lake and Lyon mountains are visible, as are Whiteface and Esther, well to the south.
And, of course, looking down into the deep valley to the north is Debar Pond. And the open area that was once the playground of those relaxing at the aforementioned Debar Lodge itself, which you can kind of make out through the pines, but not really.
I shared lunch with the dogs on the summit on a comfortable, 55-degree day in early March before heading back down. High overhead, formations of Canada geese were flying north, chattering away, as they do. It didn’t seem like they’d been south long enough to grab a sandwich, but this is the new way of things.
With the exception of some evergreens at the top, the wide-open forest is comprised of hardwoods. I saw some white birch shedding their old bark to reveal a fresh layer of rosy salmon-colored skin that I’d not noticed before. A shade that would seem more at home in Key West. Nature is always surprising.
We slipped and slid back down to the break in the cliff bands. Not paying much attention to the route in the open woods, I wandered “wide right” as the NFL kickers say. I wound up in a boulder field that was not entirely pleasant. The dogs endured it for about three minutes before bounding off to the north where somehow they knew the easier route to be, leaving me with nothing to do but meekly follow.
Every now and then they earn their keep.
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This is an off-the-radar favorite of mine. A lot of bang for your buck. There are also some nice views if you go SE a bit from the summit.
All of this, right in my neighborhood. Tim understated this climb a tad; Baldy, 4-season, a rugged climb…but as William mentioned, very rewarding. And you’re most likely not going to meet too many others at the summit, lol. BTW, not a fan of unleashed dogs, but as Tim mentioned, if you’re in a pinch (bushwhacking, for example), just following your dog; he/she will get you back the shortest way possible, at the least resistance. All good, Tim! Cheers….
Tim. Brings back a lot of memories hunting that mountain with my grandfather years
and years ago. Saw a lot of big deer back then. The views were also beautiful back
then . Debar was a hard mountain to hunt also. Thanks for the article.
Thanks Tim for keeping Debar in the news. It brings back great memories of climbing Debar Mountain. My first climb was a shake down cruise before leaving with the BSA Adirondack Council cohort of scouts headed to the Philmont Scout Ranch in New Mexico in July 1969. I became an Eagle Scout in 1970 (Troop 45 Malone) and was on the ADK Council summer camp staff (Camp Beford next to Meacham Lake) for 1970, 1971, 1972 and 1974. We made our own pathway up Debar from Camp Bedford instead of using the trail head at Meacham Lake. I climbed the mountain many, many times, including working with summer campers to earn credits towards the hiking merit badge. In 1974 as a 20 year old, my best friend also on his 4th year with the staff (1971-1974), made it a tradition to climb Debar in the dark every Friday night after the awards campfire. We stayed on the top for sunrise and then double timed it down the trail to be in mess hall for 7am breakfast on Saturday morning. I was disappointed when the Ranger cabin was abandoned, ransacked by the bears and the observation tower on the top was closed off – those were the older days than present I guess. Although a native of Malone, I have lived in the midwest for almost 50 years after finishing college at RIT in Rochester NY. Retired now, my wife (also a native of Malone) spend the summer at our camp on Upper Chateaugay Lake – not too far from Debar as the crow flies. I am also a 4th generation descendent of Darius Merrill – Merrill NY for those familiar with this location between Upper and Lower Chateaugay Lake. I feel right at home on the lake and in the ADK mountains. Even though I have never been to Debar Pond Lodge I totally support preservation. Some years ago, like over 10 years ago, I signed a petition and also sent in a letter per instructions given to me by Gil Paddock at his Deer River Flow campsite. Thanks again Tim for sharing this summary of your trek! Steve Matteson
Hey, Steve…We perhaps crossed paths back in the Scout days; good times all around. I listened to the Moon Landing in a lean-to at Bedford in July ’69, my cheap AM radio tucked up to my ear at 20:07 hours, lol. Troop 33 for me. I too was working on Eagle Scout. Along with those bushwhacks to summit of Debar, remember swimming out to the island and back? They imported some great story tellers who would enchant and scare us senseless after the evening meals, enchanting and scaring us senseless. Troop 33 was always located at far end from Bedford lodge, so that walk home in the night after those stories, hard to dump the adrenaline after getting back to lean-to. My job took me all over the USA, but I remained a climber; bagged 2 of the 7 Summits, Aconcagua and Denali, and nearly everything in between. My wife and me eventually migrated back to Adirondacks and the “estate”. I’m a 3-time 46er, so still climbing. Great Thanks to Tim who still gets out, logs his adventures, keeping especially those of us at a certain age connected. Cheers, Steve, and All Best…..
I bet our paths crossed – awesome! Yeah, you were in the Onondaga campsite with the lean-to’s. All the other Bedford sites were platform tents. We called the island OA island for the Order of the Arrow. I was a camper at Bedford in 1969 and at Philmont in New Mexico during the first moon landing in July. I helped build the new rifle range and sports area at the East property line of Bedford in 1970 – which was right by our trail cut over to Debar Mountain. It was quite a facelift to Bedford in bringing electric power, showers and flush toilets, new dining hall and other upgrades starting in 1971. I ran the trading post in 1971, Nature Den in 1972 and was 1 of 2 Camp Commissioners in 1974. Living in the midwest for about 40 years I missed out on working toward being an ADK-46er. You did this 3 times!! I do have friends that have completed the cycle once. I climbed Marcy many times (70’s and ’91) and even dragged my newlywed spouse up Marcy! We also canoed in St Regis Spitfire lake with portages to Bear Pond, Little Long Pond, Green Pond, etc., in the 80’s. All the best – thanks for sharing memories of places and times we experienced.