Ellicottville … It’s Worth the Squeeze
NOW this… by Caitlin
Ellicottville … It’s Worth the Squeeze
Let’s take it back. It’s April in Maine, where what I thought would be a simple hike turned into an all-day event that never really happened. My goal was to hike part of the Appalachian Trail. There was a trailhead 25 miles from where I was at Sugarloaf Mountain. Now, 25 miles in my world is a 20-minute drive around WNY’s snow-belt. Armed with one water bottle, a couple layers, hiking boots and my favorite old hat, my first mistake was thinking it would be a quick drive to the trailhead.
When I popped the GPS in, the first road I came to was closed to recreational vehicles only. Okay, I thought to myself, start following the ridge. My service has to pick up eventually and re-route. Well, it did, and when it said an hour and a half to get there, I laughed at myself and continued on. It was an intense yet beautiful drive switchbacking through Maine, and I took the extended drive in stride. But getting closer to the trailhead, the road became a muddy mess and it occurred to me that I was in the middle of nowhere; haven’t seen a car in miles and I have no service. All while driving, my dad’s voice started ringing … “Is it really worth it? Find an easier trail.”
This, at least, prompted me to pull off and walk the last mile to the trailhead. Already behind schedule at this point, I happily meandered up the access trail. It was amazing to me the dense forrest … and then, there it was … a. fresh. bear. print. I stopped in my tracks and it occurred to me, “Bigger mountain, bigger animals.”
Mustering another 30 yards before I decided to hightail it back to my car, I made my way back down the switchbacks, mentally accosting myself. How could I be so naive to think hiking part of the ATP that people spend months and years sometimes planning would just be something I do as an afterthought? It sure wasn’t my purpose for being in Maine. I was there to coach a USSA Eastern Project, trying to entertain myself on the two-day break.
Driving back, a small sign caught my eye. It was just a canoe with an arrow. So I parked and followed it. On the other side of the wooded path, it opened up to the most ethereal lake I’d ever stumbled upon. Instantly looking around assuring there were no others in sight, I started crying the best cry of my life. I cried it all out to mother nature - frustration with the day, heartbreaks, cancer, COVID, family, friends, taking tamoxifen, the pressure of finding success when so many were struggling, how to handle all of these things with stoicism and grace when dark crevasses in my mind could so easily run the show. In this moment, one of my favorite artists, Michael Franti & Spearhead popped on, ‘Hey World (Don’t give up)’ started playing and everything washed away and my first instinct was to get home.
This blew my mind. Here I am in surreal Maine and yet my body longed for Ellicottville. This led me to some deep introspection on the long drive home later that week …
Years ago, a friend taught me the expression, “The juice was worth the squeeze.” He really had to explain it to me though; when we got to the end of a grueling hike we looked at the waterfall and he said to me, “The juice was worth the squeeze.” I understood for once. The work I put in was worth the joy I got out. Spending the next years contemplating the concept and going through the ups and downs life threw my way, it became a sort of measuring stick for experiences. My calculative brain constantly geared towards finding maximum efficiency could muck up the simplest of plans. (I blame this on a supply chain management class in university that hammered efficiency calculations into our head. Efficiency … “get us maximum output with minimal input,” my professor would repeat.)
It even took a trip to Vail and Morrison to see Michael Franti in a double header concert weekend, returning home, out to Lake George, back out to Denver, Boulder and Broomfield to get to the heart of it.
Why is it that after these stunning trips out East and West that Ellicottville was still my favorite place for recreation? There have been dreamy deserts, hidden lakes, grassy flatlands and grey rock mountains that have all but taken my breath away. Despite all of this, there is still nothing more beautiful to me than the rolling foothills Ellicottville is tucked in.
It then occurred to me that Ellicottville is always worth the squeeze. What I had been ruminating on for months between meetings, appointments, hikes, walks, runs and workouts boiled down to something I’d known for years. You barely have to put any input into your recreation around Cattaraugus County, but the reward … it’s next level. Within 30 minutes you can be in a sculpture park, on a river, in a state park, on a ski hill, on a bike trail, hiking and so much more.
Plus, all of the terrain is challenging enough but won’t scare away beginners. Now this article is supposed to highlight all of the fantastic hiking this area provides, but what fun is that? Why don’t you start exploring your own adventure algorithm? Get up, get outside and find out what your minimum input for maximum output is!
Here is a link to my favorite hiking app: @hikingproject. It attaches you to GPS over cell towers. My favorite hikes are the trails at HoliMont, Little Rock City, Valentine’s Trail at Zoar Valley and Griffis Sculpture Park. Be sure to tag us on all of your adventures in and around @ellicottvilleNOW #evlnow. Happy adventuring!