Tag Archives: hiking

Wildcat, Wildcat!

On the weekend on the 9th, a planned day hike turned into an ambitious overnight, and Sweeney, Rob and I once again made the trek to North Conway to hike the Wildcat range across the street from our winter hang out.

The plan was to light-weight backpack (~20-25lbs) starting at Glenn Falls, across the Wildcats, up Carter dome and the rest of the Carters, then summit Imp, Moriah, and Selburne Moriah, and descend to Wild River campground on Saturday. Then on Sunday hike out via Carter Dome and back over the Wildcats.

On Saturday we got off to a great start with beautiful weather after a rough storm the night before. Eager to make some mileage, we quickly ascended to Wildcat D where the top of Wildcat’s lifts are.

First up for the day, Wildcat summit with the bits of snow in the bowl as a backdrop.

Descending into Carter Notch made for some impressive views, and a very steep descent and ascent of the Carter Dome.

An awesome look at the daunting Carter Dome from the Carter Notch Hut.

Looking back at Wildcat from the hut, one of a few AMC huts fed by spring water.

Ascending Carter, looking back to the glacial ponds of the Notch.

We hung around briefly on top of Carter to re-coup, but then pressed on to Mt. Hight which had far superior views.

Presidential Range panorama. All the photos come from Sweeney’s expert photography and far superior camera.

After Carter the rest of the ~4000 footers started to blur together a bit, but the ridge offered continuous views of the northern Presidential Range.

The northern end of our Saturday traverse, soaking in the views

We crested Selburne Moriah in early evening, and booked it to camp. We’d decided to go stoveless, which was not exactly my preference. It worked out okay, and I was never hungry, but I think next time I’d do freeze-dried meals and a pot for approximately the same weight, like Sweeney and I did on our Bigelow Range traverse.

Evening view of the Presidential Range, looking back at the peaks we’d crossed

On Sunday we weren’t exactly rearing to go, but we broke camp and got moving quickly. Unfortunately on of the first scenes we encountered was this:

Our first encounter with the Wild River Sunday morning.

Is that the trail across the river? It was. After Rob assured me the depth was a trick of the light, we made a waist-deep wade across, with our shoes around our necks.

After crossing the river, we proceeded down the Wild River Trail, until the trail abruptly disappeared into the river. About .5 miles past the (closed) Wild River Campground, the trail had fallen completely into the riverbed, a remnant of Irene. There had been no warnings, so we attempted to find the trail again, but eventually were forced to re-route and continue down the less exciting, but intact, High Water trail, after re-crossing the Wild River, this time via wooden suspension bridge.

At this point we’d backtracked a fair amount and wasted time locating trails and looking at maps. We re-evaluated our options, settling on a Carter Dome ascent via the Black Angel trail, and descent out Nineteen Mile brook trail from the base of Carter Notch.

We made a dogged ascent of Carter, once again a humbling experience. As we descended, Rob went ahead to get the car, while Sweeney and I hiked out. We were all relieved to get out of our wet trail shoes and head to Moat for a post-hike chow down.

The hike itself stands alone as the hardest, and one of the most rewarding hikes I’ve done to date, hitting 12 4000 footers and totaling ~40 miles round-trip.

(Not So) Solo Presidential Venture

This past weekend was great, and nothing went as planned. It also stands as a testament to the unpredictable and extreme weather around Mt. Washington.

My original plan was to backpack two days, one night, and then ski Tucks today (Sunday). I’d been itching to camp out, and a solo trip seemed like the way to go, since Sweeney and Rob were busy getting their backcountry powder fix in the Wallowas in Oregon. From the get go I had to make some quick adjustments to my trip plan. Originally I wanted to park near Glen Falls, and head up to Boot Spurr, and then hike along the southern part of the presidential ridge, hitting Monroe, Eisenhower, Pierce, and possibly Jackson, camping at elevation, but below treeline at Nauman.

But, when I got to Glen Falls parking area south of Pinkham Notch, the area was gated and all the signs were bagged. It didn’t look too inviting so I re-routed my ascend to the Boot Spur trail. Later I saw cars parked where the gate was, so I guess it wasn’t too big a deal. At Pinkham I checked the weather, then threw all my gear, both winter clothing and overnight essentials into my big 70L Osprey Aether pack, and headed up the Ravine trail to the cutoff.

As I crossed the bottom of the Sherburne, it was completely bare and dry. The Tucks trail was a mess of mud and rock at the bottom. Were we really just skinning from the base only a month ago? And skiing all the way down? It looked like a different world.

As I got higher up on Boot Spur I began breaking through the remnants of snow and ice into the running water below, which I was not a fan of. The wind was picking up, and looked like it trying to blow down the trees. As I crested treeline I nearly got blow away. The wind was fierce and it was very exposed. I’d read that the summit was reporting gusts above 85 mph, but I did not expect to need to make a hasty retreat to the shelter of the trees.

I snapped a quick photo of the bowl as I got above treeline on Boot Spurr

I quickly realized there was no way in hell I was hiking ~5 miles completely exposed on the peaks. I didn’t really want to give up and go back the way I’d come though, so I decided the brave the wind for about a mile while I headed up to connect with Boot Spurr Link trail, and descend into the Ravine. I threw on my shell, gathered my wits, and made agonizingly slow progress against the wind, sometimes on all four or bracing against cairns. The steep descent of Boot Spurr Link wasn’t too much fun–no one had broken trail and I was postholing the entire way down the Hermit Lake.

It was still early morning, but there were a bunch of skiers at Hojos, heading up to Hillmans and the bowl, so I decided to make a day of it, and enjoy the blue skies and warm weather (and lower wind speeds). There was the usual assortment of spring skiers, including people duct taping their skis to their packs and almost falling down left gully. I hiked around the bowl a bit and took my time before descending the Tucks trail. I felt a little silly hanging out in the bowl with a big pack but no skis with me.

Hillmans Highway from Hojos

Skiers heading up left gully, which had some soft bumps

The rapidly deteriorating bowl, and waterfall hole

Afterwards, I camped out at Barnes Field and prepped for some skiing Saturday, since my backpacking plans had been comprised. Due to some miscommunication between Alex and I, we didn’t meet up Saturday like we’d planned, and so Saturday morning I hung around Pinkham Notch until it looked like things were going to soften up, then made my way up to Hermit Lake on my own. I made record time to Hojos, about 40 minutes I think, and chatted with a few people on the way up, including a guy who was planning to summit via Lion’s Head, since they just re-opened the summer route.

At Hermit Lake I talked with a ranger who speculated that the bowl still wouldn’t soften up to prime corn for another hour or so, so I took my time and snapped a few photos for a group who were from the Johnson State College Outing Club. When they found out I was on my own, they offered to let me join them. They seemed like they knew what they were doing, so we departed together to ski Left Gully. It turned out I’d been hiking up the Tucks trail with their friend earlier, and a few of them had been into back-country skiing and coming up to Tucks for a number of years. It worked out great, they were super chill and it certainly made the day more fun than skiing on my own, and also gave me some peace of mind.

Though it was supposed to be cool and cloudy, the sun broke through, and I was sweating bullets in the heat as we ascended. We hit Left Gully just as it got soft, and had a great first run. I was feeling a bit slow on the ascent, I guess my jaunt Friday left me a bit tired. For second run, we headed up Left Gully again just as some hiker narrowly avoid taking out the whole line after he lost his footing and slid down the entire run. We topped out and headed towards Hillmans Highway across the rock fields, looking for a bit of variety. I hadn’t skied Hillmans all season, so I was game to give it a try. There was a choke point on the descent where you had to side-step down and the snow pack briefly got narrower than my skis, but the rest of the run was good spring conditions, though I doubt it will be worth skiing much longer. The Sherburne was in rough shape. You could kind of ski 30% of the way, as long as you didn’t mind skiing over rocks and grass and doing a bit of hiking in between.

In the sun on top of Left Gully, you can see my skin beginning to take on a reddish hue.

The weekend ended up much different than I’d planned, mostly due to the rapidly changing weather. Mt Washington is getting a bit of rain today, so it probably wouldn’t have been as much fun to ski anyway. Thanks again to the friends I met at from outing club, especially Jess and Sam, it was a blast skiing with you guys!

Camel’s Hump

The weekend following the Bigelows I was planning to visit my sister up in Burlington. Originally I’d wanted to do a brief overnight, but due to the weather and a slight lack of time, we turned it into a nice day hike.

Camel’s Hump is Vermont’s third highest peak, but it seems there might be a bit of debate over that. I didn’t get a good look at the distinct shape until I was heading back to Boston, when it was clearer, but it stands clearly above the surrounding mountains. Unfortunately I failed to get a good photo of it before it was out of sight.

The previous evening it rained pretty heavily, but luckily we only caught wind and fog. We started on the western side, on the Burrows trail, with a link up to the Long trail. I’d read that the eastern Camel’s hump road was still closed after damage by hurricane Irene. The western side ascends a little more steeply, but it made for a great hike, and despite the fog we caught a few good views. The peak had a stiff wind, but as we descended, the sun came out and it turned into a beautiful fall day.

One of the few breaks in the clouds.

Not much to look at behind me.

My sister next to the survey marker on the peak.

In the end the hike was the perfect length. We got to stretch our legs and still have time to head in to Burlington for an afternoon lunch.

The Bigelow Adventure

This outstanding trip may have been my favorite hiking trip of the year to date. Sweeney has already posted his take of the excursion, though I have a few notes and photos to add myself.

The trip itself was thought up by Sweeney when he and a friend hiked part of the range last year, so he had more accurate expectations of what we’d encounter. The plan was to drive up Friday, stow the kayaks at the eastern end of Lake Flagstaff, then drive to the other end of the range, and camp out near the lake. We’d hike the range with all our gear Saturday, and then kayak back Sunday, leaving some extra time on Monday in case we didn’t make it all the way.

In end the, nothing went as planned, but everything worked out extremely well.

Friday

Sweeney’s account of Friday does a great job of describing our adventure, which began a little sooner than I was expecting. We gave my Pathfinder a good workout on the 4×4 roads near the lake, and it’s a good thing it was up to the challenge. After fair bit of driving and scouting for the campground in the car and on foot, I was glad to finally pitch our tents for the night and have a few beers.

Saturday

I’ve been pairing down my back packing gear for a trip just like this, so I was pysched to have reason to bring it on the trail. I was not as interested in bringing my 70L internal frame pack when I only had ~35L of gear to put in it, so I borrowed Sweeney’s extra REI pack, which was much smaller, and fit everything perfectly. Since this was my first overnight of the year where we’d be on the trail, I really had a chance to test out some new purchases. My Big Agnes 2-man packed well, and I enjoyed the smaller, lighter sleeping bag and half-length pad I’d brought. We only shared our food and cooking system, otherwise we were pretty much soloing in terms of gear carried, which made for a good test, and allowed us some extra comfort.

I swear the leaves were colorful. Just not as colorful as bright orange.

The hike started slow but about three miles in we peaked Cranberry Mt. and got some great views of the lake and the rest of the range, the first of many. The foliage was in full color, but it’s a little hard to tell with Sweeney’s shirt out shining the color of the leaves.

Around Cranberry we ran into two guys doing the same trip as us, but in the opposite direction. They’d camped at the Horns, about half way, the night before. It was cool to hear that some others thought it’d be a sweet idea to do the traverse and then return by boat, but we didn’t run into them on the lake the next day.

On top of Cranberry, looking at Cranberry pond below, and the Horns ahead.

Sweeney, looking satisfied with the views.

Next was North Horn, one of a pair of steeply pointed peaks. We heard from a few sources that Horn’s pond, a glacial pond on the eastern side, has some great Trout fishing. Based on the number of fish rising while we were there, I’d love go to back and catch a few, but it’s a small pond, so it’s hard to say how many fish there are in it.

West Peak, with Avery not too far away.

We trekked on to West peak, the first over 4000, and made sure to pick up the pace to Avery, the last peak before we descended and took a fork to leave the AT and head for the Round Barn campground, where our kayaks were. We caught the sun setting on the windy rock on top Avery, and by the time we reached the trial junction 2 miles down, it was dark in the dense woods, despite the bright light of the moon.

Caught in the shadow of Avery, looking at Little Bigelow. The AT continues to follow the smaller mountains.

The campground was a maze of pine needles and more crowded than we expected, but we got settled in and had some time to unwind and enjoy the evening.

Sunday

This was the part of the trip that was a bit questionable. It’s been awhile since I’ve kayaked, never with gear, and never in Sweeney’s boats. The weather, and wind would also factor into whether we’d make the trip in one trip. We got a late start after repacking our gear and getting everything situated in the kayaks.

Even with a strong head wind that followed us the whole day. and some patches of rough water with white caps, it was a beautiful day to be on the water. It was clear, sunny, with just a bit of haze.

Sweeney had his GoPro snap a ton of photos. but I managed to get a few of the range.

As we rounded the last corner for the last 1/3 of the trip, we got a great view of the entire ridge we’d hiked the day before. From left to right is Avery, West, the Horns, and then Cranberry.

We made good time and finished the kayak ahead of schedule, even with a few stops. That meant we still had time to head to the bar Sunday night and then find a place to camp.

Monday

We’d headed partway back along the ridge to camp near another ‘road’ that lead to Stratton Pond, which was a great scene to wake to up. After packing up we, a bit unwillingly, headed back to MA to drop off the gear.

The Pathfinder, just before we unloaded the kayaks.