If you live in the shadows of the Catskill Mountains—and many of us do—or if you can see them from one of the many vantage points in the Hudson Valley—and there are many—chances are you have cast your gaze on Ralph Ryndak without either of you ever knowing it. You see, deep under the cover of the tree-lined Catskill Mountains lay many miles of hiking trails and at any moment Ralph Ryndak may be on one of them. There, as you drive up the Thruway and first glimpse the mountains on that rise in the highway near Modena, is Ryndak, hiking yet another trail, climbing to yet another summit of another Catskill Mountain. Maybe it is when crossing the Kingston-Rhinecliff Bridge heading west and the hulking profile of Overlook Mountain fills your windshield, maybe it is then that Ryndak is making his way up the fire tower.

Surely, one day while heading south on Route 32 from Catskill to Saugerties, you have glanced right towards Kaaterskill Clove while Ryndak treks along towards Kaaterskill High Peak. Or even as you make your way up Platte Clove, gear box straining and heart racing each time you look over the steep guardrail-less drop off just a few feet away, there in the distance is the serpentine ridge line of the Devils Path, where Ryndak plunges from Peak to Hollow and back again. For his part, Ryndak, on a trail hidden from view, may look out over the Hudson Valley and see villages and towns or the twinkling lights of lone houses at dusk nestled in the rolling foothills and never see a living soul, though he knows you are out there. His camera at the ready, he climbs up to one more peak and though he has been there before, the light this day is different or maybe it is the season and all is new and magic again.

It was the summer of 1959 when Ryndak’s parents bought a summer home in West Shokan, near the mountains, and on weekends and in the summer the Ryndak’s would leave Kingston and make for the hills. In 1964, Ryndak followed his brother’s lead and bushwhacked his way up Wittenberg Mountain. What he saw when he got up on top was a spectacular view of the Ashokan Reservoir and he could even see Kingston and his other home. Now, almost forty five years later, Ryndak lives in West Shokan and continues to hike and in the ensuing years has covered not only the 35 Catskill Mountains over 3500 feet—something that gets you into the heralded 3500 Club—he has done so in each of the months of the year, completing the Grid: 12 x 35, for 420 peaks in all, the last coming in June of 2007. So it may be that you have gazed upon a mountain here and there and unseen to you Ralph Ryndak moves along a trail, on his way to the next summit.

Ryndak carries a camera, once an old instamatic, now a lightweight digital. When he bought the new digital camera, he figured a new computer was in order too.

The pictures he takes and downloads to the computer are of a glistening winter landscape or of some of his hiking companions. My e-mail inbox, so often cluttered with nonsense, occasionally yields the treasure of one of Ralph’s hikes in a sharp digital image. They are titled thusly: Ice Storm on Peekamoose or Deep Snow on Devil’s Path or, simply, Westkill. He has hiked with wildlife experts who have pointed out the tracks of animals to him and he has learned them well. Along the years he has seen bear and heard coyote and owls howling and hooting. There was a time or two when a bear in a tree eating wild cherries dropped out of the tree onto the trail just in front of him, startling both of them. Or the time on Rusk Mountain when he walked past a sleeping fawn, who didn’t stir. Some months later, in the same spot, Ryndak came upon a now young deer and he believed it was the same fawn, now grown up.

Ralph Ryndak isn’t out for a solitary experience. He often hikes with people from local hiking clubs and his girlfriend Maddy is a regular companion on the hikes. He has been to other mountains too and counts himself a 46’er—that is, someone who has topped the 46 Adirondack peaks over 4600 feet high (which includes Mount Marcy, at 5344 feet, the highest point in New York State). One day, he and I will hike together. He suggests High Point; it is near his home and afterward we can go see his collection of artifacts from hiking. These include an arrowhead, discovered when a newly cut logging road tore the land and dislodged the past. One companion of Ryndak’s was Teddy “Cave Dog” Kaizer, who set a record in 2002 for hiking all 35 Catskill 3500 peaks. The effort took just two days, 15 hours and 24 minutes and Ryndak was part guide and part moral support. Speed isn’t a driving factor to Ryndak but friendship is and he and Cave Dog are still friends; in fact, Ryndak attended Cave Dog’s wedding last summer in Oregon.

Wittenberg still holds a special place in Ryndak’s heart, but all the mountains are dear to him. Depending on the season or the time of the day or even his mood, each place he hikes is different, though he has been to all of them many times. Having been to the tops of the highest 35, Ryndak is now working on some of the lesser peaks and is halfway to a hundred already. Views are nice but having been there, done that, with many summits

Ryndak now appreciates the way up and back and has developed a keen sense for the geology of the Catskills and is fascinated by the forces that formed these sleeping giants on whose backs he treads, unseen to us but present none the less.

To Hike
What sets Ralph Ryndak apart from non-hikers is where he walks. And while hiking has kept Ryndak fit, he will tell you that a basic level of fitness is all that is needed to get out and hike. That and motivation. So if you are inclined to hike, do so. Get cleared by your doctor first, then get good footwear and appropriate clothing and learn about food and drink on the trail.

Kenco in Kingston is a great place to do all of those things (except the check up, that is, though they do eye exams). It is also a great place to get maps and advice, including what safety equipment you should get (it is minimal but, should the need arise, indispensable).

You can also try a hiking club. One such club is the Rip Van Winkle Hikers whose mission, according to its Web site, is to “promote and foster interest in the sport of hiking” as well as “camaraderie, physical fitness, and an appreciation of the wilderness, nature, and local history.”

The club is broken up into three hiking group: novice, intermediate and advanced. The novice group stays on flatter terrain while the intermediate and advanced tackle some of the tougher Catskill peaks.

The Proving Grounds of the Catskills
There is a group of runners who meet through the winter, first across the river, then in Woodstock or at the Ashokan Reservoir. They run slowly and easily at first but as the days lengthen imperceptibly so do the runs. And then hills are added, though it is more accurate to say that big hills are added because when you run in the Catskills it is always hills. My goodness, it is sometimes hill after hill and that group of runners, Doug and Charlie, Sheryl and Jacque, Dorothy and Jan, Steve and Robert, John and me get hills into our blood and muscle and sinew. And it pays off. In late February, John and I took our Catskill hill training south and traveled to North Carolina to take on Mount Mitchell, the highest peak east of the Mississippi.

It was 20 miles up from the small town of Black Mountain to the 6684-foot top of Mount Mitchell and we were prepared for a grueling day. Yet climb as the trail did, we never despaired because it never rivaled our home hills. At a little past the halfway point in the run we stood on top of Mount Mitchell and, as John noted, we were the highest human beings on the ground on the east coast.

We ran back down, grateful for all of the Catskill downhills too. One day later, as our turboprop banked slowly over Newburgh, we could look out our windows past the spinning blades and see the glorious and familiar home ground. We arrived back in town just as the group—who carried on in our absence—finished another hill session and despite the hills and the 40 miles of the previous day I felt envy. I also felt pride; high as Mount Mitchell may be, our steeper, harder hills held more allure and paid bigger dividends.

Pose a Question
In the Guide some months ago I wondered about the name of a place along the Devil’s Path. Named Jimmy Dolan’s Notch, the cut lies between Sugar Loaf and Twin Mountains. Who was Jimmy Dolan and how did he get a notch named after him I asked rhetorically. Or not: maybe I hoped for an answer from the many who know more than I do. And, indeed, that was the case. An e-mail came to me a little while after the story made print and once again the unflappable Joe Brown, a local runner, climber and fly fisherman of note, sent along a link to a place that held an answer to my question. I moved the e-mail to my saved file, with plans to revisit the tale in the future, which is now. The link no longer works, however, and therefore the best I can offer is my recollection of the information I found there. Some time ago a tavern called Jimmy Dolan’s existed near the north end of the notch. On payday local loggers working in the mountains would head through the notch on their way to spend their earnings at Jimmy Dolan’s, hence the name. How long Jimmy Dolan’s existed—if even it ever did—I cannot say. However, I am sure that someone can and will.

Resource References for Hikers

Rip Van Winkle Hikers: www.newyorkheritage.com/rvw

New York – New Jersey Trail Conference: www.nynjtc.org

Kenco: www.AtKenco.com