Gilligan: It may be small, but it deserves respect

With more than 1,400 feet in elevation gain, this overlooked mountain is more than a ‘family hike’

By Tim Rowland

Gilligan is a Little Buddy of a mountain that, while we’re talking TV icons, could be named Mt. Dangerfield for all the respect it gets. Maybe it’s the elevation of 1,420 feet that in Adirondack terms seem barely more challenging than a stepladder.

Or maybe it’s because it dwells in the Valley of the Shadow of Death, i.e. the brutal Rocky Peak Ridge, whose trailhead is in the general vicinity, making any mountain to the east look beyond puny in comparison.

Whatever, Gilligan is often referenced with the Adirondack epithet “family hike,” which to a seasoned climber of High Peaks is the rough equivalent of deep-fried Twinkies to Escoffier. So ingrained is this notion of a lolling family stroll that you’re almost surprised to discover that there’s no Moon Bounce on the summit.

Except I have yet to see the Brady Bunch on Gilligan, possibly because it’s harder than all the self-perpetuating internet descriptions that rate it as “easy.” I suspect more than a few have concluded that it’s a family hike — if your family’s name is Donner.

True, it’s only a little over a mile to the top, but most of it I would put in the moderate to steep category, belying its sub-1,500-foot stature. So bring the kids, but beware that any trail that begins at a river and ends on a mountain is going to have its moments.

The trailhead is reached by taking Route 9 north from its interesting intersection with Route 73 (disrespectfully known Malfunction Junction) and heading 3.4 miles to Scriver Road on the right. Since you don’t have time in your busy lives to pull over and count, I can tell you that, where one stop sign would have sufficed, the Malfunction Junction intersection has a grand total of 22 road signs instructing motorists to yield, stay right, swing left, enter here, don’t enter there, do this, do that and other general instructions and directionals. No need to thank me, that’s what I’m here for.

If you’re coming from the north, it’s 2.5 miles south of New Russia, and the only tricky thing you have to understand is that the Gilligan trailhead is not reached off of Gilligan Road.

There is ample parking on the west side of the South Branch of the Boquet River, and the hike starts out by crossing the bridge and walking on a dirt road until the marked trail turns into the woods on the left, just before reaching the first camp.

For a little over a quarter mile no family could be happier, as the trail glides through the ferns of a level floodplain, hops up a little step to an old woods road and continues on a bit until it bears left and ascends sharply through rocks and roots to a bit of an informal junction. The formal trail continues to wind to the right, but going straight on a disorganized herd path (it’s more of a herd trample) will after a few yards bring you to a northern overlook of the valley, with the impressive cliffs of Iron Mountain in the distance. I think you can also see the very tip of Hurricane Mountain, although I didn’t check for sure on my most recent hike because I was behind schedule, having wasted too much time counting road signs.

The trail moderates somewhat, but is still fairly steep as it follows a hogback toward the top. It’s well-marked, but still takes some care to negotiate since several herd paths lead to various views on the narrow ridge. In one spot the trail switchbacks hard right, and even though it’s signed, there’s a 70% chance you’ll miss it and go straight on the herd path. No matter. It leads to a nice overlook, and in short time reconciles with the trail proper. 

Another overlook, this one on the right, presents itself at about the half-way point, identifiable as an enormous rock mound that can be scrambled up to a nice view of the Dial-Nippletop range. If you’ve ever wondered why they called it Nippletop, this perspective will explain everything.

The trail continues with a downward hop off a 3-foot ledge and descends into a swale before climbing once again to another broad bench and then a final climb to a rock slab. While somewhat open, this is not the destination, which will arrive in the form of a similar rock slab reached after another short climb. The trail appears to continue on by way of an old woods road that you can follow to private property, where a sign will say, “Ha ha, fooled you, now go back because you are a dope.” Or words to that effect.

Plain and simple, there is no finer view of Rocky Peak Ridge as it soars into the sky with its broad and mighty shoulders reaching out as if to embrace the entire world. If you  have ever climbed this mount, you will be impressed with yourself. Nor, from this vantage, does RPR have to share the stage with that spotlight-hogging Giant, always right there from most vantage points to remind everyone that it’s 200 feet higher.

Other High Peaks appear further to the south but more distant, adding to RPR’s grandeur. And if you are already planning fall hikes, the eastern flanks of Rocky Peak Ridge are mostly hardwood, extending up to a surprising degree of elevation, making this one of the most colorful venues around. Because the primary view is to the northeast, you can also avoid the barbecued eyeballs that are common consequences from leaf-peeping on southern exposures.

It is true that Gilligan is easy enough for families, but it is hard enough to qualify as a hike worthy of an experienced hiker’s time. And the views are sure to satisfy both.