I like to think of the Catskills as the little brother of the Adirondacks. Part of the same Appalachian Mountain family, but a little shorter, a little scrappier, and a little bit closer to home.

I was on a hunt for the best view in the Catskill Mountains, and had read Wittenberg Mountain might be it. So on a random August day, I decided to take a quick overnight trip to see if it was true.

Distance: 7 Miles

Elevation Gain: 2,582 ft

Peak elevation: 3,770 ft

After a scenic drive, I parked at the Woodland Valley Campground, and took on this mountain from the Northern approach.

If I had more time, I think I would have liked to have continued the hike onto the Cornell and Slide Mountain summits. But it would have just been for bragging rights, as Slide is the highest peak in the Catskills, and for Cornell, you need a good set of cojones and/or a decent rope to descend the infamous Cornell Crack.

And all that for views that would pale in comparison next to what I was about to see.

Wittenberg by its own right is a challenge in itself. Full of steep climbs and dramatic rock puzzles to scramble up, I would not recommend it as a hike for beginners. But anyone seeking a challenging day hike with some decent climbs and a great view will love it.

The trail started by crossing what looked like a new or recently rebuilt bridge over the Woodland Creek. The wood had yet to show the distinguished grey of oxidation that age brings.

Immediately at the other side of the bridge a wall of dirt greeted me as the trail took on an incline grade of 37%.

The first mile of the trail continued the trend. But the mix of boulders and rock formations kept it interesting. I used a few of them to stretch and catch my breath.

I was carrying a few extra liters of water on my back since I read that there were no water sources on this mountain.

I don’t know if it was only because a storm wreaked havoc on this area the night before, but I came across at least four shallow running streams on this part of the trail.

After that first mile, the trail flattened out and I passed a few nice potential campsites. One of them offered a view of the valley below, even at this elevation.

The even terrain was short lived though, as just past the intersection of the Tonisgah Trail, the real fun began. A mile long stretch of rock scrambles to the summit, each more challenging than the last.

For me, scrambling is one of the highlights of any hike. If it doesn’t have a view, it at least better have a scramble or two. Wittenberg was a bit of an overachiever in this regard.

Most notable, and my favorite part, was the tree root scramble near the top. Almost completely vertical, I had to navigate the twisted root rungs of a lumber ladder that grew into cracks in the rock, splitting them open.

This photo does not do the steepness justice.

Reaching the top of this boulder and branch scramble, I pulled myself over the last obstacle and took a minute to catch my breath as I looked back down.

It wasn’t much further to the summit from here. Probably about another half mile.

As I passed the sign marking 3,500 feet, I heard the faint sounds of a family arguing and heading my way.

Two sons and their two parents. All four wearing what looked like their Sunday best. None seem very well prepared for the hike.

As they got closer, the mother asked me if I knew how much longer until it got dark. Before I could begin my sentence, the son jutted in with a frustrated “He doesn’t know!”

I assumed he knew what my answer was going to be, and he did not want to worry his mother, as the sun was already on its last legs of it’s journey across the sky and it would take them at least three hours to get to the bottom of this mountain.

I let them pass, and as the father was pulling up the rear, he nervously asked me,

“Have you ever hiked in the dark?”

I replied with an “Oh yeah, a few times. Probably will be tonight.” In an attempt to sound reassuring.

“What do you do?”

“The only thing you can do, be careful and keep going.”

He continued past me, looking nervous.

I hope they made it back okay. Judging from the lack of bodies I saw on the way down the next day, I’m assuming they did.

I finally reached the summit a few minutes before sunset. It was breathtaking. And since I was facing East, I could see the shadow of the mountain crawl across the landscape as the sun set behind me. Pretty cool.

I decided to stay up there a bit longer to stargaze before heading down to look for a spot to set up my tent.

Stargazing on Wittenberg Mountain_Jupiter_Saturn_Milkyway

Local regulations require backpackers to set up camp no higher than 3,500 feet to protect the sensitive boreal vegetation at this elevation. So I donned my headlamp and began a brief moonlit descent.

Flat areas were few and far between this high up, but I was able to find a small primitive campsite nearby.

Unfortunately when I got there it was already claimed by three teenagers in a massive car-camping tent. I have no idea how they lugged that thing up here.

And I swear they had a skunk in there with them. 🤨

I startled them, and apologized for crashing their party, but asked if they minded if I set up my tent nearby.

They were relieved that I wasn’t a park ranger, and was instead, “Just some dude” as they put it, so they didn’t seem to mind.

They seemed like good kids. Recently graduated from high school and on what they hoped to be their first of many annual backpacking trips.

I set up my tent, and went right to sleep. I intended to head back to the summit in a few hours to watch the sunrise.

My alarm went off at 4:30am. I knew I didn’t have much time until dawn, so I quietly retrieved my bearbag and made a beeline for the summit.

I got there just as the first light of the day was flirting with the sky.

I sipped on my summit-made coffee and watched this burning ball, 94 million miles away, slowly peak over the horizon.

I don’t think I am poetic enough to properly put the scene into words. So I stopped trying and just watched the navy blue sky slowly turn pink and orange as the morning light warmed my face.