Beware the chipmunks. They are beyond tame. They will stare you down.

Several primitive campsites are close by, down a muddy herd path on the west side of the trail.

Walk Giant Ledge’s full length and visit each of its lookouts. There are five, maybe six? I always lose count. Views from each offer an ever-changing angle on Woodland Valley below, the Eastern Devil’s Path mountains and the Burroughs Range.

From here, most people return to the parking area on Route 47.

If you have it in you, the trek to Panther only takes an additional 45 minutes, adding 90 minutes to your total hike time.

Panther Mountain

From Giant Ledge, the trail descends into the col between the two peaks. You lose about 150’ elevation which isn’t much, and the trail is lovely.

Heading up Panther’s southern ridge is not difficult. The trail winds pleasantly through hobblebush stands and rock outcroppings…

Pass this rock pile on your right. It’s not the summit but, if you’re feeling adventurous, you can climb the boulders for a good view.

The summit is not long after the boulder pile.

Panther’s Summit

A small flat ledge marks the summit. There’s a tree with exposed roots on the ledge, and sometimes there’s a small cairn.

You’ve summited Panther, yes — but an even better view lies just ahead.

Scenic Lookout

Less than five minutes from the summit is a larger ledge with a much grander view. This is the best place to lunch, looking down across Phoenicia to the Devil’s Path. Straight ahead is the Eastern Devil’s Path. Look left to see North Dome and Mount Sherrill. Meanwhile, on your right, you can see Mount Pleasant, and you can just make out Ticetonyk guarding the Ashokan Reservoir.

On particularly hot days, if you want a break from the sun’s rays, look for a herd path leading into the pine woods. It’s much cooler in there. There are several flat, mossy spots where you can sit for a while and cool off.

From here, you can return directly to the parking area along the trailed route in about 95 minutes.

Bushwhack Giant Ledge

On my way out, in the col between Panther and Giant Ledge, I diverted to a bushwhack along the base of the cliffs. Not many people take this route. The terrain is tricky and tiring.

Start anywhere in the col. I took this flat boulder just above the 3000’ contour as my jumping-off point and turned east/left into the open woods.

The terrain is a little steeper than you might think from looking at the contour maps. If I’d started a little further north on the trail, I might have avoided some of the steepness. I felt uneasy so I descended to 2850 and found myself in this glade…

From here, I headed south. My objective for the day was to do a short bushwhack in new terrain without getting into any trouble. On this first pass, I kept away from the long line of enormous boulders strewn at the bottom of the cliff. It looked like tough, slow work — and after April I was nervous about finding a nest of rattlesnakes in there. So my route tracks a little to the east of all the high drama.

I came across this big crop of Apioperdon pyriforme or stump-puffball, which is an edible. Personally, I’m too scared to eat anything I find in the woods — and there are similar looking mushrooms which are not good to eat.

This bushwhack is only a mile or so, but it took an hour. It was very demanding. I hear there are caves to explore at the base of the cliffs so my plan is to re-do this route in late-autumn/early winter, when it’s much cooler.

As it was, the deep duff, which regularly collapsed underfoot into ankle-twisting holes, was enough to contend with. Frankly, a foot of snow would make the trek much easier.

But the landscape is a fantasy-land mix of old blowdown and giant boulders, with everything covered in moss. Lots of good bushwhacking down here, even on this “easier” route.

Descent from Giant Ledge

Back on the main Giant Ledge/Panther trail (blue blazes), I turned left and headed down what now felt like exceptionally lumpy trail-bed.

Hiking to Panther from Route 47 is not the world’s toughest hike. But the bushwhack section wore me out. On the trail down my feet felt pummeled and, by the time I made it back to the lot, my legs were jelly.