Someday I hope to attempt my probably overreaching ambition of bagging the more notable fourteeners (peaks over 14,000') in Colorado and eventually Mexico's 18,490' beautiful volcanic monster Pico de Orizaba. I can't even begin to imagine their jaw-dropping glaciated panoramic vistas, those "windows into heaven" and the hellish assault required to experience them but even come that day I will still have a soft spot in my heart for paltry 1,260' Breakneck Ridge. Breakneck Ridge is typified just as much by its harrowingly vertical ascent and beautiful overlooks of the Hudson River and Storm King Mountain as it is by its disgustingly crowded (Bottleneck Ridge?) and littered trails. The only trail I've been on more choked with human traffic was Shenandoah's infamous Old Rag, similarly within close proximity to a large city. In the past two years I've climbed Breakneck Ridge some 20+ times and have done the 8 mile ass-kicking Breakneck Ridge to Mount Beacon trek 8 times, including an extended summer trip to Bald Hill where I came within inches of stepping on a very angry, large and rattling Eastern Timber Rattlesnake. Breakneck Ridge is my gear testing site, my wilderness gym, the perfect introductory hike to bring along friends unfamiliar with trees outside of parks, a road to traverse with my head floating like a balloon on a string free from the weight of city toil: it is a just plain ass fun time. I fuccs wit' Breakneck.
Fittingly my first trip report on this blog is of the most recent Breakneck-to-Beacon trip I took with some members of Meetup.com's Hiking & Nature group. It was taken as an unofficial pre-hike in anticipation of an Adirondacks winter trip that I unfortunately cannot make. Meeting people off the Al Gore for activities is a little strange to begin with but meeting strangers to go on long winter hikes of potential consequence is an all-together nutty thing so I was relieved to discover that this small group was equal parts experienced, irreverent, friendly and neither excessively organized nor disorganized. Liz, an ice climber, even learned me on the "screaming pukies" (don't ask, just Google, ugh). Shout out to traildog millionaire Andre for the accompanying photographs - I managed to leave my camera at home. A few of the other photos are from the same trip made two weeks prior with Karen who learned in dramatic fashion the necessity of stabilicers/microspikes/crampons in winter (sorry 'bout the knee!). 
Due to a small logistical error - not naming names - we had to walk to the Breakneck Ridge trailhead from Cold Spring. We were all quickly struck by just how fucking cold it was walking down Route 9 with temps hovering in the low teens on the tail end of an arctic cold front. The sky however was a cloudless impenetrable blue, just beautiful. Through the holidays I predictably allowed my conditioning to atrophy so I had some inhibitions about pacing with a group unfamiliar to me. Outside of sweating buckets as the sun rose higher and lagging behind during a tortuous gear change to snowshoes/poles that I inexplicably made without stopping, I managed to drag myself along okay. Time to get my ass back on the Brooklyn Bridge for sure though (and to break in my new Scarpa SL M3 boots, irresponsible purchase #17 of the new year).
The weekend prior I went snowshoeing in similar conditions at Fahnestock Park so I decided to take my MSR Denali Evo Ascents along despite there being only some 5 inches of cocaina on the ground. If you're unfamiliar with the experience winter hiking is a game of layer management. Uncomfortably cold? Add a layer. Warming up? Remove one. The idea is to reduce to an absolute minimum the amount you sweat since it significantly reduces the insulating properties of your (non-cotton) layers, while avoiding frostbite and hypothermia on the other end (fail). The sun, weight of the snowshoes and my own lethargy caught me by surprise so let's say my Xbox 360 Layer Management Achievement was not acquired that day. But I did manage the hairy scramble up Mount Beacon without removing my snowshoes (Sufficiently Stupid But Stable Snowshoe Achievement, 25G).
All in all despite the bitter cold (Mount Beacon you mutherphucker) and late start it was a beautiful day in which we had most of the hills to ourselves. On top of that I met a solid group of folks I hope to get to share trails and snarky punchlines with in the future. The only real bummer was having to literally run from an overrun Chinese restaurant in Beacon to the train station only to find out the train was delayed: completing this traverse is truly worth savoring broccoli in garlic sauce in relaxed and accomplished fashion.
Breakneck Ridge is accessible via Metro-North train from Grand Central Station on weekends. You can obtain a topography map from Tent & Trails or EMS: NY/NJ East Hudson Map Pack. For more information I wrote a guide for a shorter traverse to Cold Spring here.
The photos below are of Mount Beacon, including a view of the New York City skyline in the distance from its summit.
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