Great Range- High Peaks-Adirondacks

(Haystack, Basin, Saddleback, Gothics, Armstrong, Upper/Lower Wolfjaws: 1-7)

We are approaching Easter now, heading into Spring 2016 and looking back on possibly the best weekend of the whole summer 2015. This new chapter began Labor Day weekend. Therese and I found ourselves hiking into John’s Brook Lodge with fully loaded monster packs, and fully open minds and hearts for what was about to become the most perrrrfect bro/sis peak bagging, tree hugging, fantastic journey ever! This was my introduction to these mind blowing amazing mountains, and Therese’s renewed continued quest becoming a 46-er. My hiking quest was about to be kicked up to a new level, and my life change for the better while I, in the midst of my love affair with the Whites, was dropped smack-dab in the middle of a new enchanted land of splendor that is ADK. Now as I rewrite this entry for the SECOND TIME, and try to recall the details and recapture the magic 3 seasons later, I am so looking forward to once again immersing myself into these amazing mountains and the new journey of someday becoming a 46-er myself.

When I first put this trip into words in the days that followed, the experience was so fresh in my mind, the images so vivid, the sounds of laughter and silence so clear, the smells- both sweet and horrid still lingering, the aches and pains still throbbing, and the memories still overflowing into puddles of ink upon the page. Now, over a dozen White peaks later, as I start the countdown (“10-9-8-7…”) to the NH48 “finishing” milestone, I find myself longing for the journey to continue, and searching for what will be coming next. With just ten of a lengthy list left and having just shared my story of a day on ‘The Rockpile’ the clear front runner for the next chapter in my exploration led me back to this weekend with my sister.

So I am frantically fumbling through my disorganized pile of scribbles on note pads from past months for the record of this trip, tangible proof that the magic actually happened, so that I can finally share it all with the world (or at least the small part of the world that is following along with my steps). …Only it is not here!! I am frustrated beyond words! I have searched through every stack of books, through piles of bills, boxes of Christmas ornaments, sacks of camping gear, and somehow the writings are no more – vanished like a lost winter climber sent to his grave by the fierce rushing avalanche. So I will do the only thing I can do – dig deep into my own memory, tap into my sister’s recollections, gaze upon the trail maps, rummage through the photos and video clips, search websites and facebook pages of fellow hikers that have shared their own similar treks, and attempt to crack open a door to the archives that hold these precious memories and bring them back to life. The details may be somewhat muddled and hazy to start, but I hope that by the last words I will have brought the feel of this amazing weekend back into focus, as though it just happened yesterday. So here goes the revival…

DAY ONE:

…And so the journey begins.

We’ve been planning this for a few months now. The original idea was to make this a backwoods camping trip, but it has morphed into a few nights stay at JBL with two pretty aggressive hikes that will take us to 7 of the high peaks in the Great Range. Actually scratch that. At this point, as we are hiking in with the big packs 3.5 miles to the Lodge, the plan is to spend two nights followed by a third overnight stealth campsite and a morning hike out, but as it turns out we would enjoy JBL so much that our stay would be extended by a night, making both of our peak seekers day hikes. I hadn’t hiked with Therese since our younger days in the Whites, so this was a fitting way to start off- the person that took me and my brother on that long hike in the Bonds, is now leading me into one of the most rugged and sought after stretches in the ADK’s. That’s how we roll: no easing in, just get right down to it.Having to park in the overflow lot down the road, we took the shuttle to the completely filled Garden lot and set our extra weighted feet onto Phelps Trail, following John’s Brook upstream to our home base for the next few days. We walk up the wooden steps that lead to a large wraparound deck of this 28-bunk lodge as the mid-afternoon hour arrives. It is too late to start in on a peak but there is just enough time left in the day for a leisurely afternoon unpacking, and to settle in and get acquainted with our surroundings. We spend some quiet time by the brook, followed by a lazy lounge on the sun-drenched deck for a bit of reading and mapping out trails. Hikers start shuffling by us later in the afternoon/early evening, drenched in sweat and drained of energy from a long day on the trails. At first a feeling of guilt arrives, over our fairly easy, flat short hike in and our lazy afternoon, but we know we will be more than making up for this in the days that follow.

With dinnertime approaching we stroll into the large living area, which is filled with large wooden tables and benches and a raised stone fireplace. Off the main room is a kitchen, where the ADK staff is busy filling the place with yummy aromas, and 4 bunk rooms (2 large, 2 small). Dinner is served family style and I don’t recall what we ate but I know it was delicious. We sat and talked with the other guests – most conversations were standard friendly hiker length and content, but one guest in particular took talking to an art form. We finally found a chance to break away from the gabby woman and retreat to the deck once again to breathe the night air, before retiring to our bunks to rest up for a full day on the trails.

DAY TWO:

The next day started out a bit groggy from a night of enduring a monster snoring neighbor, but we are soon energized by a mountain sized breakfast and a cup of jo or two. We waist little time grabbing a few prepared lunches and hitting the trails to get an early start on the day with our much smaller day packs. Soon the Lodge guest chatter fades and it is just brother and sister heading southwest up the Phelps surrounded by things of green happiness. To quote Therese, “It felt so good to be in the rhythm of nature… walking, talking, joking… interspersed with periods of long silence.” We talked of childhood memories, hikes of yesteryear, things encountered in each of our family-building, career-constructing, life-shaping experiences. We joke at our siblings and parents expense and treasure the moments we all shared. We share quirky little stories of our jobs and coworkers… In the spirit of keeping an inside joke INSIDE, I will share some meaningless/ meaningful punchlines and key phrases: “Mmmm noodle soup”, and ”That’s a great story”, followed by “#coworker’s name” which led to “#pole uses” and “perrrrfect”…Maybe I’ll explain a few of these later… then again maybe not. Then just like that, the words stop and the woods tell their story once again. This how it went throughout the weekend. I would tell a work anecdote or share something learned on the trail, she would recall memory from one of her kids key moments growing up, one of us would crack a joke or witty remark, we would laugh for a while and then nothing but footsteps, breathing, poles clicking and a dramatic pause to hear ma nature sing us her song of silence, calm breezes, animal calls, and water trickling downstream.

After a photo stop at Slant Rock, our first trail junction followed. I’m not sure now if we went left or stayed right at this spot, but I remember it started getting steeper. It had been fairly flat or easy slopes up to this point, and now we were starting the real climbing. We passed a few other groups along this stretch, one of which included a girl who was climbing her first mountain ever, and having a tough time of it as she labored her way up and across jagged rocky terrain, with others in her group helping her along. I remember thinking “Wow this is one hell of a first hike!” Indeed, there were those back at the lodge that were impressed that we picked these challenging peaks as my first 7 of the 46 despite the fact that I was a semi-seasoned hiker, and this girl was taking on Haystack as her first ever! You gotta respect that ambition. I certainly hope her experience affected her positively, and didn’t discourage her from future hikes.

In any case, this place was having quite an effect on me already. It’s so beautiful here and different in many ways from the Whites, yet similar in a lot of ways too. The trail seems more neatly manicured and marked more consistently. They also seem to be used a bit less, showing less wear and tear and more spaciousness. This is by no means a knock on the fabulous trail crews of the Whites. They do an amazing job on the trails given their ever increasing use. That being said, there is no getting around the rustic look of a heavily trampled White Mountain trail. The Whites also seem to have way more options for trail routes to any given destination. They do both have their fair share of rocky steepness, rushing brooks and streams, thick forests, and of course mud.

At some point Therese tripped clumsily over a downed tree while attempting to avoid a particularly nasty mud pit and ended up landing in it. Now that’s being truly connected to nature and becoming one with the trail. It was one of those classic slow motion falls too “Nooooooooooo!” – Of course we both had a good laugh but were otherwise unfazed and undeterred in our mission.

When we reached Little Haystack (a sub-peak of Haystack), our gabby friend was there with her group, part of which was the girl and her helpers that we had passed earlier and was still some ways back from joining the group I’m sure. Another of the group, if memory serves, was set to “finish” this weekend and become part the elite group of 46ers. We chatted for just a bit while we enjoyed the views, but broke away at the first pause to get ahead of the babble. After all, we still had many miles ahead of us. The final push to Haystack was a bit of a scramble, and then at last we arrived.

The mountains seemed to extend to the end of the earth. There were even less signs of civilization here than I had witnessed in my prior travels. I couldn’t find a road or village within sight below, and we really had a sense of solitude and isolation here. We sat on the summit ledge in awe of the endless miles of raw beauty before us in every direction. (click here for Haystack Summit Video) I could barely take my eyes away long enough to take a bite of my sandwich. This, much like my first taste of the Whites was instant addiction – love at first sight. The best part was this was only the first peak. There was so much more to look forward to this weekend and beyond. Shame on me for just discovering this place now at age 48, but so thankful that I got to discover it at all. We were torn between sitting longer to soak in more of this magical place or getting on with our voyage to unlock its secrets and its promise of heaven on earth.   

With so many miles ahead and a limit to the daylight in which to witness the visions in store for us, we managed to eventually tear ourselves away and set out for the next destination: Basin Mountain.

(click here for little haystack video)

To get there, we backtracked to Little Haystack and took the State Range Trail heading Northwest. A short distance down the trail, as we ducked back into the trees, we crossed a small stream and thought that we should fill up our water supply, since we didn’t know if there would be another opportunity any time in the near future. Soon after our break, we were joined by a solo hiker we met back at Haystack, who had left his full size overnight pack at a trail junction ahead in order to summit with a lighter load. We exchanged some trail-talk with… (I forget his name) …let’s just call him Pack-man… and walked together for a while toward Basin. Then I think he stopped for lunch or something, or maybe we just pushed ahead at some point with our lighter packs. I don’t remember, but in any case we were back in silent mode… until… “OUCH!!” Therese zigged when she shoulda zagged and tweaked her knee. I know all too well about knee-tweakage and we took a breather as she assessed her pain. After a few stretches and test motions, she figured she was ok to push on. Whew, good thing! We were over halfway along our route and there were no bailout trails nearby. The only way out was up and over Basin, then up and over Saddleback before a 2.5 descent down Orebed Brook Trail. The only other option would be a long difficult bushwack through God knows what. Other than that, we’d need to send for help or find it on the trail for a possible litter evac scenario. There of course was always the last resort of pushing the SOS button on my brand new Spot Gen3 satellite messenger that I am breaking in this weekend, checking in at various points in our trip. I hope to never have to use that SOS button, reserved for life-or-death situations, and thankfully this does not come even close to qualifying as one. Even more thankfully, it seems she is ok to carry on under her own power and enjoy the rest of the day.

We make the final push to basin summit and let another amazing High Peak view with it’s warm summer breeze sooth the pain away along with some vitamin-i and a knee brace… and plenty of tiny annoying black bugs (no-see-ums) that bite! -some pleasant and unpleasant distractions. After some rest and a snack (for us and the bugs), we are good to go. Next stop- Saddleback! Carefully now, we descend into the saddle between the 2 peaks. Pack-man has caught up with us again and tags along for a while. He is now almost out of water, hoping to get an opportunity to fill up soon.

We had heard how difficult of an undertaking the scramble up the rugged south slope of Saddleback would be from some of the JBL guests, and as we approached the steep rocky ledges, we honestly felt it was somewhat over-hyped. Sure there were some pretty challenging sections, but there was always something to grab onto and footholds to lodge our boots (or trail-runners), and we aced the test with some careful planning of our steps. Even Pack-man with his extra heavy load was making it up without issue. After making it to the top of the steep stuff, we actually hiked through the summit on this one, not realizing we had gone by it, but stopped at an outlook just below with a great view to the south and east. This was to be our final view above tree line for the day, with plenty more on the way for tomorrow and still plenty of backwoods scenery to be had on the way down.

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All I remember about the rest of the day was dying to get back to a plunge into the pools of John’s Brook for a much needed cooldown after what had amounted to a long arduous day but worth every grueling step. We finally got to our ice cold refreshment and how sweet it was! We made it back to JBL just in time for the dinner bell, and I have no idea what everyone else ate, but I’m pretty sure I gobbled up everything at our table! Unfortunately, I didn’t bring any cotton or flip-flops, but clean and dry and barefoot was just fine with me on this warm summer night. We wrapped up a perfect day in the ADK’s looking up at a star-filled sky from the front deck. Who could ask for a better ending?

DAY THREE:

Once again, the snoring was brutal… or so I understand. I was so exhausted I slept right through the turbulence. Therese was not so fortunate and had resigned to moving her sleeping quarters to the main dining area. It’s Labor Day and the final full service meal before the summer season comes to an end for the Lodge staff and they switch to care-taker self-serve mode. It is now that we ask if we can stay one more night even though we had not booked it ahead. Most guests will be hiking out to Garden lot today, but we have much bigger plans for another epic hike in the ADK’s. A few other groups have plans to stay as well, but the crowds will be gone for the most part. The backpack meals I brought for camping can be our dinner tonight. So we’re all set to bag another 4 peaks today! Therese’s knee seems much better now, and although I am sore myself from yesterday, I know I’ll be fine once I hit the trail.

Our plan today is to hit Gothics, Armstrong, and both Upper and Lower Wolfjaws- roughly 11 miles and a bunch of elevation gain. We start by heading back up the Ore Bed Brook in reverse direction. It’s funny how the trail looks entirely different heading upward and seen through fresh rejuvenated eyes, not the exhausted ones from the day before. We continue our discussions on both silly and practical uses of trekking poles (click here for #pole-uses), and silently thank mother earth for providing these magnificent works of art upon her canvas. We are blessed with yet another postcard weather day, which is a rarity to get three like this back-to-back. I really could not be more thankful, for I have seen my share of gloomy viewless days over the past few years in the Whites. But really, in the grand scheme of things, there have been way more bluebird than black cloud days overall. Still I never take this for granted.

At some point we come upon this large boulder that of course I simply must climb, because well, we just aren’t getting enough climbing in this weekend. After several miles retracing yesterday’s steps, we bang a left onto State Range Trail and begin a steep open rock slab climb up the Gothics. At first there are handholds in the rock face to help in our effort, and then on the steepest stretch of the slab, we are assisted by a pair of ropes secured to the ledge face.
They seem to help for a while, but eventually I find them sort of awkward for me, and I switch to a pole assisted scramble. Therese sticks with the cables though, and I grab a video of her completing the second length with a healthy grunt… (we later dubbed this the “Gothics Grunt”).

(click here for “Gothics Grunt” video)

More stunning views abundant when we reach the exposed summit including a unique perspective of our tri-peak travels from yesterday’s trek. I also find my first intact survey marker of the weekend here. After a bite to eat and some lingering upon the summit (we are making an effort to extend them today, as we have no designated meal time to be back for), we drop back into the thick green saddle between these first two peaks, and then ascend up to 4,400 feet at the more wooded summit of Armstrong.

(Click here for Gothics summit video)

By now we are in the zone and words are few and far between, becoming less necessary. It would almost be pointless to try to describe this feeling anyway. You just have to live the moment. Still I feel (long after the fact) that I must at least try to capture it all with my frantic scribbles. The slower pace today is allowing the smaller details to come into the picture: A batch of red berries against the contrasting green backdrop, a golden mushroom clinging to a moss covered outcropping, the purple paint-like colorings of the leafy greens, the spider-like flowers along a manicured trail edge…

…and then another breathtaking summit view. This time its Upper Wolfjaw for number six, and is in no way a repeat of any that preceded it.  Each mountain has its own unique look at the surrounding landscape. I know I will be sad when this trip comes to an end, but I also know I will be returning just as soon as I can, hopefully with my favorite hiking buddy.

It is a long plunge down into the Deer Brook Valley, or at least it seems that way. We are now both thoroughly exhausted as these two epic hikes are finally taking their toll on our energy level, but we are now on autopilot riding the remaining momentum to our last peak. It is much easier sticking to the plan when hiking with a partner that’s for sure. As we approach the final junction, where ADK Range Trail, Lower Wolfjaw Trail, and Wedge Brook Trail converge, we have the option to surrender to our aching muscles and joints and continue left down Wolfjaw Brook to our home base. I turn to my sister and ask “Are you ready to do this?” Clearly drained of any enthusiasm but undeterred, she responds “I didn’t come all this way to turn back now!” So we turn upward to begin our final climb to Lower Wolfjaw.

(click here for somewhere in WJ video)

A short way up, I finally hit a wall with my energy level. I’ve got nothing left in the tank. It’s so hard to find any drive to push myself up this hill. I sit on a rock, take a gulp of semi-coolish water, grap a few handfuls of gorp and dig deep within myself to tap into all of the seeds of inspiration, planted in my soul this weekend. The seeds grow outward and carry me up the trail to that final summit, a wooded peaceful outcropping with glimpses through the trees to the now familiar views I have come to know and love. We lay down the rocks and I close my eyes and feel the warm gentle breeze. I can feel that we are not alone, that there is a spirit with us, embracing us, telling us “Stay a while weary travelers, listen to the wind and let it take hold of your heart. Rest your beaten limbs upon this rock and let the spirit of the mountain carry you home.” We laid on that rock for what seemed an eternity (but was probably closer to 15 minutes) and I can’t remember feeling so at peace with the world in a long, long time.

Whatever or whoever was with us on that mountaintop that day, or whatever we found within ourselves, seemed to give us just what we needed to push onward to the end. We retraced our steps back to the junction and beyond, dropping the final miles back to John’s Brook, and plunged once again into one of the clear cold pools along the brook, washing the earth from our skin sending it downstream. “Get off me mountain! Time for you to go home now!” my sister screams to the caked mud on her leg. Stumbling back to the lodge, we recouped with some freeze-dried goodness, and captured a photo of a Doe and her young fawn feeding in the grass outside the lodge, before taking another star gaze session on the deck. There we listened to fellow guests, 5 women in their 70s, tell their tales of how they became 46ers years before and now reunited here to see if they could still do it. They can and they did. It’s very inspiring to know that it is possible to still enjoy the mountains in our later years. So as we sat and listened and drooled over the beers they brought with them, Therese commented, and I agree, that she wants to be just like them when she grows up to be a kid someday… (or something to that affect).

DAY FOUR:

The morning after brings a drizzly day to hike out. Along the way we have a closer encounter with the Doe and fawn, and don’t even reach for the camera this time. Instead we just enjoy the moment and connect. We are sad to end this amazing trip, but so happy that we made the time for what is truly important… As a wakeup call back to reality, we are greeted at the trail head with the realization that the shuttle stops running on Labor Day, stranding us away from our car. Therese, being super-girl, marathon running warrior, decides to take a run back to the overflow lot hoping to get a ride along the way to retrieve the car. Luckily she returns a short while later in my little blue Rav4 thanks to a kind local doing some yardwork who saw her and helped out. It feels so good to change into COTTON finally, and be on my way to a beer and bacon cheeseburger!

…As I suck the greasy goodness down back at the Lakehouse while my sister rushes off to a work meeting, I already can’t wait to return. Thanks for the memories Therese and the intro to the amazing Adirondacks!

Well, that’s it in a nutshell. How did I do? Can you picture it? Do you feel the magic? I’m actually surprised I remembered everything in such detail. I guess that goes to show you, that if you hold something that close to your heart, it never leaves. I will hold you close and forever ADK.

Sandwich Range

(Tripyramids: NorthTri.-26, MidTri-27, SouthTri)

May day! May day! It’s Sunday May 1st 2016, and I am making the best of my spring break from the ice-filled whites by continuing the futile attempt at getting caught up on this blog of mine. Let’s see… When we last left our hero, he was finishing up the first half of his journey with a climb up Washington and Monroe. There was a bit of a lay-off after that and I was struggling with being consumed with a longing to return, much like I am now. What is it that makes the mountain’s call so irresistible? I think mostly it’s a return to innocence and simplicity. I am reading a book, “Following Atticus” by Tom Ryan now about a man’s journey in these mountains with his dog, and I can’t get over some of the similarities to my own (minus the canine companion). In the 4th chapter he writes: “Sooner or later we come to a point…when we lose our innocence…all of us want to make our way back home to that time again. But innocence lost is difficult to find… We long for it, dream of it, and are haunted by it. Occasionally we glimpse it again…and then in a flash it vanishes and we miss it all the more…the worst we can do is to give up looking for it.” This is how I feel in the mountains. All of life’s complications melt away and I am left with all that really matters. The bigger and simpler picture. …Anyway this was I time when I was longing to get back to answer the calling of the mountains once again, so much so that I was rearranging my late summer plans to get back to the source of this new found innocence. But I needed a plan and this time a companion to get me back on track.

Well I suppose it hasn’t been that long, but when you’re in love with a place it seems like forever! I last visited the Whites at the beginning of the month to hike Monroe and Washington. Since then I have paused for the halftime intermission. The following weekend, I took my 8 year old nephew camping at Myles Standish in Carver Ma, a nice family campground with a lake to swim and fish, and a paved bike path. It was great to have some one on one time with Dylan. He had an awesome time and it brought me back to a time when my son Chad was younger. Kids are awesome at that age, when seeing a fish or a frog is the biggest thrill in the world. I’ll have to make it a point to do more of these; after all they are only young once.

The next weekend was spoken for also, as I had signed up to take that wilderness 1^st aid class, a very informative day jam-packed with scenarios we acted out and well worth my time. I had to sacrifice a great weather weekend a great weather weekend of potential hiking, but I made up for it. As soon as class got out that Sunday, I took a drive to visit my sis at the lake house in the southern ADK’s. While I was there I took an easy hike up Peaked Mountain/Lake.   At the summit, I got a glimpse of the High Peaks off on the horizon, where I will be doing a multi-day backpack trip with Therese. She has been chipping away at the 46ers. I’m looking forward to this trip, coming full circle with my original hiking partner and seeing another mountain range.

The next weekend kinda snuck up on me with the Monday Tuesday trip and a busy shortened workweek. I had originally planned a Greenfield State Park trip with some friends, who wanted to hike Monadnock with me, but they made other plans to go out on their new boat. I decided to catch up on some long neglected yard work and home repairs instead. Suddenly it occurred to me that the following 3 weeks would be White-less too, with a Cape weekend booked, the Labor Day backpack, and a Saturday gig the week after that.  That would make 6 straight weekends away from my favorite place. This simply will not do! I began thoughts of postponing the Cape. It’s really nice on the National Seashore and I like to go there at least once a year, but the mountains are calling me and I must answer. Then again, my work outing is this Friday lasting the day with the first beer poured at 10:30am, and a Fenway tour mixed in. That night I have a gig way down in Jamestown RI, so that’ll be a pretty long tiring day and it may be that all I have the energy for is a lazy day on the beach…Oh I just don’t know! I flip between these thought all week, and then my other sister Beth informs me that her daughter (my niece) Janelle might be interested in joining me on a hike. She had recently done her first 4k with her boyfriend, a grueling climb up Huntington Ravine to summit Mt Washington! Since then, it seems she too is catching the hiking bug. So this was all the inspiration I needed to sway my decision. This could work out perfectly. If she can share some of the driving, that’ll give me a few hours to catch some much needed Z’s. This changes everything!

So a last minute scramble to throw together a hike plan is in order. I had wanted to work in a repeat of some early day hikes as part of this halftime “break”, so my first thought was to hike the Bonds again, and depending how things go we could continue on to Zealand and Zeacliff too with Thoreau Falls as another option. After a few texts back and forth with Janelle it turns out that she feels she isn’t quite ready for an overnight in the woods due to lack of gear and experience, but no shortage of desire. She wants to work up to the point of a multiday trip, but for now I will plan a day hike from some sort of base camp. After checking out a few options, I decide the Tripyramid loop would be a perfect fit for this weekend. They are in the southern Whites so that cuts down on some of the driving. Plus, they are fresh off a pretty brutal hike to the Rockpile, and with descriptions like “one of the most exciting and challenging hikes in the whites” in Steve Smith’s “The 4000-Footers of the White Mountains” guide book (my Bible), this hike promises not to disappoint. At first this was to be just a 2 person trip, but her boyfriend Andrew’s work schedule changed last minute and he too will be able to join us: a trio of hikers for a trio of peaks. The best views are said to be at the North and South slides and the summits themselves will be wooded partial to non-views, but we must tag them anyway, especially since 2 of them are part of “the list”. There is an option to bypass the North slide via Scaur Ridge if anyone (including myself) isn’t up for the scramble but something tells me we will not be taking the easy way out.

After barely getting through my marathon Friday ordeal, I do my zombie walk through the door at 2:30am. No way I’m gonna be able to meet Janelle at 4am like we discussed, so a quick text to delay it til 5:30 and a face-plant into my pillow. Moments later (or so it seems), that god forsaken alarm and the usual question: “why do I do this to myself”, but somehow I make it into the shower and out the door. At my mom’s, the other 2 zombies load their stuff into my little old Rav4 and we are off, this time with Janelle at the wheel (I get to rest my eyes for a change on the ride up). Thanks to her and Andrew and their inside info, we get a nice little bargain roadside site, where we make quick work of camp setup and then make our way down the dusty dirt road toward our trailhead in Waterville Valley. A brief stretch and electrolyte boost and we are off.

The first section of the hike, along Livermore Rd is long and flat but pretty enough. We are crusing through this section to get to the interesting part. After bypassing several side trails we finally make the  turn-off to where it feels more like a trail and less like a road. This stretch is a moderate grade travelling along Avalanche Brook, where there are several waterslide and pool sightings (something that could come in handy later).  Our pace as a group seems pretty in-sync, all moving at the same stride, as if marching into battle. Before too long we reach a decision making point: Scaur Ridge Trail for a more gradual ascent, or continue on to the North Slide of Mt.Tripyramid Trail. Of course, there is really only one option in this group- the challenging one, after all nothing worth doing is easy, right? And anyway we could use some excitement after that first stretch, and boy did we get it!!

Soon we were at the base of the steep unstable slide and shifted into a more methodical hiking style, me using shorter poles and at times hands, and the other two on all fours more often than not. When several rocks become dislodged and get sent into a roll down the slope behind us, we switch to a staggered diagonal formation, so we are not in the direct path of the hazardous debris.

I remind them to yell “ROCK” when they send one tumbling, and if they are on the receiving end, to turn your back to the oncoming collision so that the impact is absorbed by your backpack and not your head.

Change in position Most couples just talk cheap viagra usa about it in front of his health advisor, in such cases the partner should take the required initiative to guide them properly and be on their side for their future and for their health. With the hectic lifestyles and work pressures that we all face viagra discount online each day, it has been observed that at some point during their life or simple want to add spice to your relationship, kamagra provides you with the best treatment. In the present time, there are several treatments introduced for the treatment of erectile tadalafil sales view this dysfunction only. Similarly diseases like diabetes, thyroid dysfunction, spinal cord defects, several sclerosis and head injury and injury in the brain discount brand viagra or pelvic zones and psychological disorder, amongst others. As we slowly crawl higher up the slide without incident, the views behind are becoming more and more magnificent, so we make a point to take frequent breaks to take these in, especially since we know a wooded, mostly viewless trio of summits awaits us.

From what I have heard and read, this terrain is similar to that of the Owl’s head slide, so this will be good practice. Speaking of Owlie, I would really prefer not to save that one for the end the way many do. It would be nice to have the last few be Big-Bang hikes, so I’ll try to line it up that way. But for now I must concentrate on my footing so as to minimize the potential carnage on the mountain side. So far these two youngsters are doing a fine job on this challenging terrain, and I must say it is nice to have some company today to share stories and banter with. I hope to have many more treks with my niece as she seems to have taken a liking to the whites- and really, how can you not??

Before we know it we are all at the top of the slide, where we take one more peak at the view behind us before slipping back into the trees. Our posture now returns to normal and our shoulders are actually ABOVE our hips. We stroll onto the first of three summits: North Tripyramid. The views are well behind us but the feeling of accomplishment is upon us. At this point we are famished and make short work of our lunches then head on our way through a series of ups and downs in the wooded surroundings with scattered glimpses through the trees of the partially obstructed scenes beyond. Andrew is having a tough time with his knee as we approach the viewless Mid-Tripyramid, so I give him a few doses of vitamin- i and the extra brace from my pack and we continue onto South Tripyramid before our descent down yet another sketchy slide. No rest for the weary – he’s young and will bounce back I am sure. In the tri-summit area there were a few partial views at some outlooks just off the actual summits that we got to enjoy before hitting the second challenge of our trip.

Once again we find ourselves on loose scree as we ease our way down the South Slide, now with a continuous view, when we are able to look up from the unsteady terrain. This slide is more of a finer gravelly consistency and less chance of larger rocks being dislodged, but still plenty of debris being sent downhill as our feet slip down the shaky ground. We are just as deliberate and methodical on our descent if not more so, as fatigue is now settling in. Nobody need to scar this memory with an injury, and luckily we make it down the second slide without one.

Once again as we reenter the woods, and grades return to moderate, and the ground is now firmly intact, we return to normal hiking, albeit fatigued and hungry.  As we travel along the brook, we have one thought on our minds: CHEESEBURGER! NO MAKE THAT BACON DOUBLE CHEESEBURGER!!! Occasionally one of us would initiate a conversation with a topic of more substance, and all the remaining group members can retort with is “What the hell does that have to do with a CHEESEBURGER???!!!!!”

After a while, we come upon a dramatic cascade and pool, so of course we stop to cool off and revive.  This is just enough to get us through to our finish line! We all pile into the RAV4 to kick up the dusty road again all the way back to our camp and most importantly our BIG GIANT BACON DOUBLE CHEESEBURGER cooked over an open fire! MMMMMMMMMMMMMMM…

click for video of North Slide View

click for video of South Slide View

click for video of Top of North Slide

click for video of Tri-Summit Area

Two more in the books! Thank you Janelle and Andrew!

Southern Presidential Range

(Mount Monroe – 24, Mount Washington – 25)

Well last week it occurred to me that a great way to mark this high point in my journey would be to actually get to the highest point – Mount Washington. I have built this up in my head, and replayed so many scenarios of how it would go down (or up), I am psyched and relieved and nervous and overwhelmed all in one at the thought of finally getting over the hump, figuratively and literally. This definitely was on my radar for this summer, so that I can get the deed done in the safest possible environment, and give myself every chance to succeed. However, I would soon find out that all of this hype and hysteria was somewhat self-inflicted, and that it was possible to make this just another great day in the woods and clouds.

I’ve been pondering many different routes and approaches to this summit that rises above all others in the northeast, home of world record setting wind speeds and center of many storm tracks. I was torn between how I wanted to experience this hike. On one hand it would be fitting to make this as challenging and rugged as I could to hike something worthy of its majestic presence. On the other hand finding a more gradual path might be a less exhausting undertaking, especially given my recent experience in King Ravine. Did I want to search out a route off the beaten path, or follow a more classic course? In the end I chose the popular west going east approach up the Ammonoosuc Ravine Trail, along the river of the same name, up to the Lake of the Clouds Hut, then a quick visit to Monroe (which factored into my final decision) before returning and climbing Crawford path up to the rockpile, then down Gulfside to Jewell Trail. The Cog railway splits the two ascending and descending routes up the middle, so that will be one of many interesting little touches that should make this a memorable hike indeed.

This weekend was one where I had originally planned to visit my sister at her lake house in the ADKs, but schedule matching switched that to another weekend leaving this one open. Originally I thought I could use this time to take on another overnight backpack trip somewhere, but Washington became my new priority on last week’s hike once I saw how things were lining up with the numbers. A look ahead to the Sunday higher summits forecast pinpointed this as the day. A stellar Friday night gig at JR’s in Cranston and a few more drinks than usual is giving me a late 11am start driving up this Saturday. I have no plans of where I will spend the night but have thrown a fully packed backpack as well as my daypack for hike day and some car camping gear in hopes that I can secure a site. I am even considering a lodge stay or another indoor sleeping option.Whatever the case, I will get an early start on Sunday’s journey even if I have to sleep in my car… Turns out, there are no available campsites in the immediate area, and I would really prefer to conserve energy and not hike into a stealth spot with a loaded pack, so I check on the Highland Center and 2 others. The only open room is a double occupancy at $130 but the caretaker refers me to a small B&B nearby that has an $85 room, so I snag it at 2:00 then head back out to scope out the trail head situation at the Cog parking lot so as not to waste valuable time in the morning.  After all this driving around, I am starving and wound up so I grab a bite and head to Crawford Notch to squeeze in a quick hike to Ripley Falls to warm up my legs for tomorrow’s task. I start to stretch this walk to Arethusa Falls until I realize this is a bit more hike then I want for today and turn back to save my energy for the big day. I give an AT through-hiker some directions and head up 302 to relax at a nearby roadside pond, do some last minute trail guide reading  and get my brand new camera ready for the day ahead, before turning in at the B&B, setting my alarm for 5:30am.

The next morning, I bypass the second B and instead grab some of the frozen waffles and sausage I brought with me. No time for niceties this morning- I got some serious mountain to climb! My little old RAV4 limps down Base Rd to the Cog parking and I notice the white clouds swirling around the top of the mountain like a vanilla soft-serve ice cream cone on an otherwise blue sky, but I know that despite my choice in trails this will be no soft-serve hike. The usual parking spot preparations and I am off! Starting out on the Ammo, I am my usual full barrel out of the gate in the passing lane, noticing all kinds of hiking types in my rear view mirror, but will eventually level off as always and I am sure I will see many of these groups again. I immediately notice a difference in the diverse crowd of hikers that this mountain attracts: Young and old, experts and newbies, locals and out- of-towners and foreigners, groups and solos and busloads, all heading to the most popular tourist attraction in NH. I am trying to carve out my own space on the trail to start off the day.

As I eventually find a comfortable zone, I get to take in some of the day’s surroundings. The Ammo is jam-packed with lush waterfalls and streams, one of my weaknesses that never fail to make me slow my pace. I must pause and take in the beauty, capturing what I can on these clunky contraptions. The new camera I treated myself to for this halftime hike is taking some getting used to, but I am hoping that what it produces is an improvement on my iPhone. Still I will take some shots on the phone just to be sure, especially since I can’t get a good selfie with the cam. So far this trail hasn’t presented me with anything super challenging and certainly nothing even close to my Adams climb last month.

There are some interesting sounds I am not used to, like a pretty constant flow of hiker conversation and the sounds of the cog railway climbing up the tracks in the not so far distance. My boss is actually up here this weekend with his family, and he will be on one of these train rides to the top. If I find any snow I will gladly throw a snowball at them.

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When I arrive at the top I meet a father daughter group that have come up from Virginia and are having a great white week. They are nice enough to take a summit shot of me at my halfway mark. We exchange a few more friendly words and then I head back down to the hut and find a spot by the lake to sit and have an early lunch.  Then it’s onward and upward to start the 2^nd half on The Rockpile.  There are plenty of views all around heading up Crawford Path. The summit structures come in and out of view from out of the clouds and then dipping back in. So the question remains, will there be anything to see when I arrive? Each time the cloud cover moves away to reveal the plateau, the structures appear larger. 

There is still plenty of traffic to and fro and when I finally reach the summit there is a large crowd to greet me. Well this is quite different, as expected. Lots activity surrounds me, with people gathering at museums, gift shops, and a large viewing platform. Hordes of visitors are arriving from the auto road and the Cog. I have been here a good 10 minutes and have not summited yet thanks to the rather lengthy line at the summit marker to get a picture on the highest elevation in New England. It is here that I will make my first stop. It seems somewhat anticlimactic to climb all this way only to stand in line for a half hour or more before reaching the pinnacle of your hike. Perhaps they could have a second line for those who reach this spot by mechanical means, and maybe even sell shirts that say “I DIDN’T climb mount Washington.” At first the line moves slowly, but picks up after a few group shots. I exchange cameras with the hiker duo in line behind me and we take each other’s pictures.

After walking around to visit the viewing platform, Tip-Top House, the public restrooms, and the Cog loading area, taking pictures along the way (except for the restroom), I quickly get my fill of the crowd and eagerly start my descent to a quieter place.

Magnificent views (I bet “views” most frequently used word in these things) of the Northern Presi range are omnipresent, including Clay, Jefferson, Adams, and Madison. It’s very tempting to continue on to Clay and Jefferson, as it seems as though I can reach out and touch them. Indeed, it wouldn’t be out of the question with the day just approaching 1:00pm, and plenty of daylight to spare. However I think, for a change, I will stick to the plan and save this for a future hike. Crossing the tracks I get one more close-up video of the Cog passing and then make my way down the rocky Gulfside Trail and eventually into the tree cover and down Jewell Trail. (click here for cog video)

Uh-Oh I said the D-word! That’s right, the dreaded DOWN, that part where I have to fight gravity, and be more deliberate and careful with each step, so as not to beat my knees into oblivion or slip and cause injury.  So I concentrate on my footing and perhaps less on my surroundings until I take a break and take a look around. This is also the part where the day replays in my head and some of the seeds are born for my writings about the scenes that I have been privileged to witness. I am thankful to be blessed with such great weather today, for I know these days are not very common up here and must be savored when they happen.

Still, as great as this halfway hike has been, I am glad that the most mainstream touristy part of the list is behind me now, and I can get back to my favorite trails that are less affected by human traffic. Plus I must admit that in the past few hikes, I could feel it starting to be more focused on numbers then it started out being. I don’t want this to happen and would like to keep it more about the experience and just hike. So my thinking is to pause and take a short break from “the list” at the halftime intermission. As it is, the next two weekends are spoken for. Next weekend I am taking my nephew, just the two of us in one of our old time spots in Carver Ma. I’m looking forward to that. This was a fun age while bringing up Chad and it’ll be nice to visit that dynamic again. For the following weekend, I have signed up for a wilderness first aid class through REI and WMA. I think it would be wise to prepare myself for what to do in case something ever went wrong, especially when bringing others along for the trip. So I think this will be time well spent. After that I may take this opportunity to revisit some of my early day hikes (like The Bonds, Zealand, & Hale) to get a more current memory of these.
Perhaps I will make an effort on the 2^nd half to work in some more of the non-4k’s I have been meaning to explore. I have already scheduled time to do a Labor Day weekend backpack with my sister in the Adirondacks and I’ve been reading up on a few trips in southern NE to try. I want to do some traveling eventually too to see more of this great country and beyond. It is clear to me at this point, that there is so much to see and so many miles of trails to see it in. I want to see it all! – (sound familiar?) …One thing is for sure: I’ll be wandering the woods and wilderness for as long and far as my two feet will take me. These are the places that matter and are worth remembering.

Crawford Notch/North Country

(Willey-20, Waumbek-21, Pierce-22, Jackson-23)

Part 1 Willey–  Or maybe www.wet-woods wanderer… Or perhaps www.where were whites? Making my way along these soggy trails on this foggy damp weekend, the title for this entry has changed so many times in my head. Thankfully in the end, the heading above summed up the past days the best. I had booked this trip months ago, not knowing what peaks I would be conquering and even as the time was upon me I didn’t have a solid plan. I don’t know how much good a plan would have done anyway. Probably as much good as a set list does for my band (we always end up abandoning the list early on, and calling out songs). It was here in Crawford Notch when I first learned to always be flexible in the mountains- adapt and overcome- and I was rewarded, given an opportunity to climb to 3442 and then 4340 when it seems like 2865 might be all I would manage that weekend. It was here where I spent so much time on the whitest wonderland season I can remember and where I fell in love with winter hiking. So I am looking forward to seeing what the area looks like under all that white stuff. As it turns out, the weather is not on my side to start things off and I might not get the chance to see the notch’s summer views this time around.

Well that doesn’t matter all that much because while the views are always amazing up here when they are present, it is not the only reason I hike. Sometimes just a walk in the wilderness is just what I need. It has been 2 weekends in row that I have been away from my home in the woods and I’m glad to be back where I belong. I am not complaining really, because I was busy doing my OTHER favorite thing – music, playing 3 Saturday gigs over 2 weekends. Still, it seems like forever since I last got my boots dirty and I vowed that over these next 3 days I would be hiking every minute I am able. So I am getting a head start driving up on a Friday evening after work. My campsite isn’t reserved until Saturday night as I thought I would have a gig tonight, but after a cancellation due to a double booking by the club owner, a seized the opportunity to turn this into a positive. So I grabbed some backpacking gear and will hike into the woods a short distance and grab a spot for the first night. By the time I got to a suitable spot it was dark, but I am no stranger to setting up camp by flashlight. I just usually have the security of knowing I am in an actual campsite and not in the middle of the woods. The trade-off is I now have a peaceful night’s sleep with no neighbors other than whatever creatures wander by my hammock. Any uneasiness this causes is offset by the fact that I am sleep deprived after a stressful workweek and rushing around packing for this trip, and I drift off in no time.

The next morning I wake early break camp and head back to my car without any breakfast so that I can get my more permanent camp spot situated at Dry River Campground and have the rest of the day to hike. The plan I’m going with today is going up the steep side of Willey. Many hikers include this as part of a triple header with Tom and Field preceding it, and avoid the steeper southern approach, which uses a series of ladders to navigate the upper sections. For myself, Tom was my intro to winter hiking and a few weeks later I tackled Field as a surprise finish to Avalon. I am all about going where I have not already been, so south heading north it is. Actually, it’s more of a V pattern starting in a SW direction on Kedron Flume Trail then turning NW on Ethan Pond Trail and up Willey Range. By the time I step onto the trail it is 10am, a rather late start by hiking standards, but this is a short hike so I will have plenty of daylight left at the end of the day. It’s a partly sunny day so far but clouds are settling in over most of the peaks in the area, so I’m not expecting much of a view but I’ll take what the trail gives me. I pass a few hikers that caution me of some upcoming steep spots near the flume, but to me this seems like a cakewalk compared to my last hike up King Ravine and the winds of Madison. Maybe I’m actually getting good at this!! Even the ladders seem more like stairs to me. Some steeper scrambles after this and before too long I am at the summit. Well actually I passed it and ended up at a lookout point where there are another couple of hikers with no packs. I comment sarcastically on the “amazing view” (NOT! We are now engulfed in fog and may as well be the only mountain in the area) and I also comment on how light they are travelling. Turns out they are actually backpacking at Ethan Pond and left their gear for a summit jaunt. After exchanging a few trail tales with the couple and pausing for a photo pose, I retrace my steps a bit to find the cairn that marks the summit where there are more non-views so I sit in the fog with my sandwich.

Even though there is nothing to see, it is still peaceful up here. A few gray jays pay a visit for some crumbs and a song. I hang out a while longer, swap out my sweat drenched shirt, and make my way back down to the lot at Willey House. I wonder what tomorrow will bring. If I am blessed with better weather I am thinking I will tackle Pierce or Jackson or Eisenhower. If not, I will find another suitable hike for whatever the day brings my way…

Part 2 Waumbek – I woke up this morning totally engulfed in more fog and a light drizzle has moved in as well. It had rained heavier overnight and there appears to be more showers in store throughout the day. Climbing Pierce or Jackson on a day like today would be a waste of some good views so I’m thinking it would be better to try something more woodsie. Waumbek in Jefferson NH is about 35 minutes from here but I think that would be my best bet. Dry River is a nice campground but I had some noisy neighbors with young kids and barking dogs that had me longing for my sleeping quarters from the night before. They eventually did settle in though and I was able to get a decent night’s sleep. I had set up the screen-house for additional shelter in this not great weather, this gave me a good kitchen out of the rain for a monster breakfast.

Waumbek is one of the shorter treks on the list and one of the most northern peaks. It barely makes it above the 4K mark and it is a wooded summit perfect for a gloomy day. I will approach from the SW via Star King Trail. Mt. Star King, on the way to my final destination, is on the 52WAV list but I think we can safely assume there will be no V today. After this, Cabot will be the only one left out of the 48 that will be this far north. I’m sure I will be back for more non 4K hiking but at least I won’t have to drive so far to complete this list.

As I make my way through this murky hardwood forest I am presented with an eerie quiet and a beauty that is not typical of the White Mountains I have become accustomed to. I have the trail to myself today it seems, and I am enjoying a nice easy stroll through the forest, shooting some pics along the way. I find myself walking through a nice mix of spruce, fur, and birch and then another foggy viewless Star King summit with its landmark fireplace chimney which I think is marks the remnants of an old shelter.

Another short trek through the woods brings me to Waumbek’s summit where I am greated by a dog’s bark and the first hikers I have seen all day. I snap a few shots of the cairn and pick out a spot to decrease the food weight in my pack. I eventually have this lunch spot to myself and take in the silence for a bit. I have read that if I continue on to the NE there are some sport to get some partial views, but not on a day like today. So I do an about face and make my way down to the trailhead.

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When I finally arrive the sun of course makes an appearance and I get a blue sky shot to finish out the day. As I do my post hike stretches a woman approaches me and asks if I have seen her missing dog. I offer to help look for him. She thanks me and informs me of a chip in his collar that will lead him home. I hope that she finds her friend and I hope Annie was right when she sang the sun’ll come out tomorrow. If not I will take a short morning hike to Ripley & Arethusa Falls and head home early. (www.Willey-Waumbek-Waterfalls?)

Part 3 Pierce/Jackson- Wwwell I wwwoke up this morning to BLUE SKIES!  Eureka!! I wwwas beginning to forget wwwhat they looked like! I have no service here at the campground, but a quick drive to the Irving station down the road and hopefully I can confirm a good forecast. If so I’ll start with Pierce for my 3^rd 4k in as many days and take it from there, possibly adding Jackson depending how things go. Driving through Crawford Notch, I notice the clouds settling into the valley once again but I see blue skies just beyond. As my signal returns, I make a quick weather check (pulling over of course) and sure enough the forecast is mostly partly to mostly sunny with afternoon scattered T-storms. So I’ll just take it one peak at a time and see how much trail the skies allow.

Just after 9am I am crossing a brook on a footbridge at the beginning of Crawford connector path which joins the main trail. Pierce is actually one that I was gonna save for winter due to its moderate grades, but some I feel like some easier slopes are just the ticket for a day 3 hike. I may repeat it in the winter anyway. I sense an all 4 seasons list coming on, or maybe even the Grid… hold on let’s not get carried away, one step at a time… for now I am on Crawford Path on my way to revisit the Presidential range. The trail runs parallel Gibbs Brook & Falls so I get my share of soothing running water sounds for the day. You would think that being a musician and having lots of me time on the trail would be a good recipe for tuning into my ipod for some listening pleasure, but in truth I like to give my ears a break and listen to the nuances of the sounds in the woods. It’s great just to tune out for a while and let the “wind on the water carry me home”-CSN.

The combination of being on a roll with a steady stream of hiking and the gentle grades, and before I realize it I have made quite a dent in the days travels. I have been going at a good clip without even realizing it, so I have a good feeling that I can beat out any Thunder boomers that move in later. It is such a great feeling to have the sun filtering through the trees and shining upon my face once again, like a long lost friend. I am excited at the thought of some views at last, so this puts an added spring in my step. I come across some AT through hikers detouring to the highland center. They tell tales of their journey from the southern states and how they were making good miles until they got here and slowed right down. With all this time in my head, it’s great to get out of it every now and then and to listen to other’s stories, and then sharing my own in return. So many inward and outward discoveries out here… if the trees could only talk, oh the things they would tell.

Later in the morning, I get a preview through a clearing, in the speechless secret-holders, of the scenes that await me up top. Over the next few miles, as the trees get thinner and shorter, and the ground goes through mossy patches and rocky stretches, I am reminded not to take the clear days for granted, as things can take a turn for the worse at any moment. Soak in the sun when it shines upon you, for it is but only a short visit. As I reach the first lookout I do exactly that, for a while and then the final stretch to the summit for some amazing sights of presidential neighbors including, amongst others, Ike, Jefferson, Clay, and Washington – none of which I have yet climbed. This makes me think about how far I have come in such a short time and wonder what will come next.

I think I have mentioned before that my goal was never to speed through this list, but I am so addicted that I just have to come up every chance I get, and before too long I am further along than I had intended or expected. It suddenly occurs to me that I am approaching 50% on this list already! As I look out from the large summit cairn to Washington, I think “How cool would it be to mark the halfway point on the Rockpile?” Let’s see I just completed #22, one more will be #23 and then Washington as #24. The only thing is I would like to bag Monroe with it, so depending what direction I decide on Monroe may end up as the half. In any case, I am not done today so Jackson-bound I am!

After a somewhat steeper descent down to Mispah Hut and a gradual slope up through the forest past the tent site, I come to a flat almost meadow-like clearing with wooden walkways that brings me to a short more rocky stretch up to Jackson’s summit. When I get there the views are even grander. This calls for a turkey sandwich and chips and a veggie hummus dip while I sit and enjoy the show.

After a few bites, a family joins me from the other direction. As we all admire the 180° canvas of colors and textures, someone takes notice of an undesirable color moving in from the southeast: a sinister black cluster creeping its way in for a closer look. Hmmm I’ve seen enough. Time to get a move on and head down ahead of the storm via Webster-Jackson Trail.  In my haste I actually take a wrong turn and end up on Webster Cliff Trail toward Webster. No big deal since there are side trails ahead that get me back on track. At first I think, “well maybe I can snag one more peak since I am heading that direction anyway”, but then the rumbles of thunder start, and grow with each step, so now it is a question of safety and when I get to the Webster Branch Trail junction I start descending with purpose, and then morph into a jog and finally I am running down the mountain trying to keep storm behind me, which is moving in fast now! At one point a really close lightning flash and loud clap of thunder scare the crap outta me and send me into the lightning position, crouched down and hunched over. But then I realize I still have a better chance of getting out of this thing and I am out of the danger zone, so I resume the chase outrunning the storm that is in hot pursuit. I proceed to wiz by a few very picturesque spots such as a pretty waterfall, but there is no time to linger. The thunder is starting to fade behind me now, and I want to keep it that way. Well I make it down safely without any incident, with a short road walk back to the car and then head back to the campground to break down camp, eat & shower, and finally start the long night drive back home. We will see you soon #24 – maybe as soon as next weekend!

Northern Presidential Range (Adams – 18 , Madison – 19)

Dedicated to Kate Matrosova: On this sub-zero Saturday before Presdent’s day in February I am left Hikeless and indoors, because there is a limit to my madness. This is even too cold for me the snow-miser! Although there are those far more adventurous and far more equipped to go out and brave the elements on a day like today and to those who are able to take it to these levels YOU HAVE MY UTMOST RESPECT AND ADMIRATION! One of these high caliber hikers took to the trails in the same area I write about here and sadly lost her life last year at this time. So I dedicate this post to Kate and to all those who are not only hikers like myself but are true mountaineers and an inspiration to us all! Having said that, my own bravery has a limit as I said earlier so I spend the day today framing my new 3D poster of the whites, planning out some options for my next hike, and reflecting on a weekend when I absolutely pushed my physical and mental limits to the max, and created without question one of the most memorable hikes ever. At the time, last July 4th, my thoughts were “Good riddens  Adams” but over time as my joints and muscles healed it became, and remains to this day, MY FAVORITE in many ways! This was such an EPIC weekend journey I had to break this entry into 2 parts (Part1 Adams, Part 2 Madison). This could become an annual revisit (like the franconia ridge loop) …If I can summon the strength every year…

Part 1 Adams– As I sit here on this overcast Independence Day (because SIT is about all I can do) in my campsite #88 at Dolly Copp Campground I ponder the EPIC hike from the day before that brought me to new heights through an awesome rugged landscape of waterfalls, caves, and steep rocky terrain. Actually I don’t know if you can use the word “hike” for this one. At times, it felt a lot more like technical rock climbing, without the ropes, rings, & carabiners, or at least what I imagine it to be. This one really pushed my physical and mental limits and left me as this useless motionless bag of bones and shadow of my former self that I am today. But even if I can’t move, I feel invincible rejuvenated and re-Born on the 4^th of July! I have just conquered a beast of a mountain and feel like there is nothing I can’t do ….starting tomorrow.

The presidential range has been looming in my mind and causing me some anxious moments lately. I know I wanted this summer to be the time to tackle at least some of them. The conditions any other time can be pretty scary and make for a daunting task to say the least. Mount Washington has more of a mental head game attached to it for me, being the highest peak with all the well documented fierce weather it encounters year round. Plus with the summit having a busy merging of hikers, auto-road travelers, cog railway passengers, shops, museums, observatories and other structures, I thought my first Presi should be something more wild from base to summit. So I decide to tackle the 2^nd highest of the NH48: Mount Adams, although I suspect elevation is probably the ONLY category this peak takes home the 2^nd place trophy for.

This would prove to be a very humbling adventure, though I was very much in awe of the task ahead of me to begin with… but Adams would confirm every apprehension I had toward it and added many more. Still, I feel the time is right for me to go forward with this, since I am probably at the top of my game physically and I’m confident that I can muster up enough mental toughness to overcome my trepidation. “There’s a time and the time is now and it’s right for me. It’s right for me and the time is now.” ~ Yes

My plan is actually to bag another peak while I am up there. Mt. Madison seems very doable to combine into the loop as long as I get an early start on this EPIC (a word I will likely use often in this post) full day journey. I chose to do this as a single day hike because I want to travel light and give myself every advantage I can. That’s not to say I have sacrificed any of the 10 essentials I usually carry in my daypack, I just don’t want the added weight of the overnight pack. Also, I must be conscious of time and distance on this trek and give myself a bailout route and a rigid turn back point. I have the feeling if there is a peak that will force me to turn back even on this perfect bluebird day, it will be Adams especially given my planned course. Go big or go home!

I have contemplated several different routes and the possibilities are endless! I ended up settling in on a loop that is sure to make this a memorable day. This loop will start me on the popular Airline trail, then branch off to Shortline trail (what’s short about it?). This will take me into the impressive King Ravine, where I can take in some scenic waterfalls, including Mossy Falls, before I begin the steep rocky climb up King Ravine trail. Another short side option is the Subway which takes you through a series of underground Ice Caves before rejoining with KR Tr. Once I connect at the ridge with Gulfside Tr, I can continue to Adams via Airline Tr, then either backtrack the same way or take Star Lake Tr to Star Lake & Madison Spring Hut. From there it is just a ½ mile up the rocky cone of Madison via Gulfside. There are a few options for decent depending on timing and how I feel. Watson Path if I want to hang around above tree line for a bit longer or down Valley Way all the way to Appalachia…

Well that was the plan anyway, but we all know what happens to them in the whites! It is quite pointless to think you are going to stick to the plan no matter what. If a pitcher only threw fastballs everyone would be batting 500, but the curveball is always a pitch away. The first off speed pitch was minor. After a 5:30 wakeup, an EPIC breakfast, and an EPIC stretch to go with this EPIC hike (notice a theme here?), I get in my dented up RAV4 that’s pushing 250K now and it is apparently not as geared up to move as I am this morning – battery dead. So of course I shrug this inside delivery off and get back in the batter’s box refusing to dust myself off. This will not be a sign of things to come for this day! I walk around to neighboring campers to get a jump. After a few strikeouts (ok enough already with the baseball analogies!) I finally find someone willing to oblige, and in no time at all I am on my way to the Appalachia trail head. I am of course greeted with a full lot but there are plenty of roadside spaces available. A few gear adjustments, chug down a Gatorade, and a quick 2^nd stretch, and I am off to begin Journey a la Epiche at 8:30 am (a bit later then I wanted but so be it).

The first 1.5 miles or so is pretty standard White Mountains hiking with typical White Mountains beauty. By now you’ve heard me go on and on about this, so I’ll spare you the descriptions because more (you guessed it) EPIC portrayals await! After Shortline and Randolph Path merge and then diverge again, I am traveling along Cold Brook which has some pretty impressive photo ops reminiscent of the Falling Waters hike that started this madness. So I just have to stop and take it in for a while. Contrary to what many may observe when accompanying me on the trail, I actually consider myself a slow hiker. My style is not to plow through at a rapid pace and miss out on my surroundings. I like to experience everything that I am in contact with and take it all in. Please understand I am not knocking the speed hikers at all. I have the greatest respect for those who are able to keep up that pace and if that is what inspires them to climb it is no less valid. We must all hike our own hike. Truthfully I do like to pick up the pace but also like to stop when the scenes are inspirational. I guess it is all relative as companions have found it hard to keep up with me at times, and I must slow it down a notch on the rare occasion I have a hiking buddy. Anyway, I digress! Let us move along the trail now (I guess my writing style matches my hiking style)… So after a pattern of hike a bit/ stop a bit, with alternating moving scenery and still beauty that I have described many times over, The Mossy Falls make their appearance becoming the pinnacle of the many water cascades and the turning point in the hike. Things are about to get interesting! I think this is good spot for an extended rest and a snack.

(Click here for video: Mossy Falls 1)

(Click here for video: Mossy Falls 2)

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Shortly after my stop at the falls I enter King Ravine Trail where the hike makes a dramatic transformation into a steeper rockier climb. After a while a north facing outlook provides my first views out of the mammoth King Ravine with the ridge that forms the Airline Trail to my right, another ridge that forms Spur Trail to my left and behind me to the South, the most impressive nearly vertical rock face I could imagine and have ever seen!!! (<– lots of these exclamation points today!!!) Mount Adams towering ahead of me, along with Sam Adams, Abigail Adams, and John Quincy Adams all standing shoulder to shoulder to shoulder as if dressed in full armor and saying “NONE SHALL PASS!”, forming a seemingly impenetrable wall between them with the kind of rugged beauty you see in Hollywood flicks of faraway lands or  have only read about. Falling from this wall are waterfalls that stretch for miles and seem to have no end! I stand there DUMBFOUNDED for what seems like an hour (but was in fact a few minutes), flabbergasted at what stands before me. This cannot be real!!! Well if this is a fantasy land I will draw my sword and climb the castle wall to sleigh the dragon!

(Click here for video: Climbing up King Ravine)

So I begin to make the climb up this wall rock by rock, boulder by boulder, cliff by cliff. What else is there to do? Turn back?? I think not!! Just take it slow and methodical, ONE… STEP… AT… A… TIME! Right hand (One Mississippi, Two Mississippi)… Left Foot (Three Mississippi, Four Mississippi)… Left Hand (Five Mississippi, Six Mississippi) Right Foot (Seven Mississippi, Eight Mississippi)… STOP, LOOK, Plan your path, continue on, Repeat… THIS… MAKES… FOR… VERY… SLOW… GOING… Thoughts enter my head of a recent documentary I saw on Discovery about the rock climbers that scaled the vertical faces of Yosemite National Park, and how  they contort their limbs to the rocks and do a sort of ballet with nature. Also, a funny little song enters my head from a childhood Christmas special (Santa Clause is Coming to Town) where the Winter Warlock transforms from Evil to Good and they sing “Put- one—step—in –front—of –the-other and- soon—you’ll –be-walking-out—the-doo—oo—oor…(etc)” And at some point I realize my trekking poles are better suited fully collapsed and hanging off my wrists in case I need them, but more often than not, my hands are better tools for grasping the notches in the rocks and pulling me upward. The poles are swinging to and fro, slamming against the rock face and taking quite a beating, but sometimes they serve a purpose where my push off point is not “grabable” and is better suited and at the right height to push off with my poles.

About a ½ mile into this slower scaling of the wall, signs for The Subway to the Ice Caves appear. I take a look down the first chasm, and decide that I don’t need any more challenges today. So I chicken out for this time around, although in hind sight the detour ended up meeting back u with the main trail after a short distance and I probably could have managed. Oh well next time. I was on a role scaling the wall STEP… BY… STEP… and I wasn’t about to interrupt that rhythm for a distraction. One thing I did notice after a while: Although my pace was considerably slower, the tops of these massive formations were becoming larger and closer, quicker than you might expect, given the rate of movement. Every so often I would stop and look back Northward at the view that was growing increasingly more and more gorgeous, and then forward and upward from side to side where the endless cascades spewed out from the wall and the ominous faces of the Adams family grew larger and larger, hovering over me, daring me to continue.  As I climbed higher and higher, cool winds were picking up stronger and stronger, as if to push me up the mountain. I can’t begin to imagine this force during the winter months. Occasionally I think there may be a time where I become brave enough to attempt completing the Winter 48, but after this I am not so sure that day will come (but who knows what the future may bring?)… For now it is a warm summer day and the wind is refreshing at first, but I have some extra layers packed if needed, (and they would be).

As I near the top of the wall I pause to add some of these layers and then FINALLY reach the top of the ridge just below JQ Adams, and get my first views to Madison and Star Lake, the Hut and the Great Gulf Wilderness. I haven’t reached the summit yet but I feel like the toughest part is behind me. I breathe a huge sigh, pause for some photo ops (that never do the scene justice), then continue rock hopping up to the summit of Adams.

(Click here for video: Top of the Ravine)

My legs and hands and back and lungs and head shoulders knees and toes and toenails and eyelashes are all aching at this point, but I have come this far and I make the final pushes until… at last… I reach… THE SUMMIT OF MOUNT ADAMS!!!!!! My first Presidential is in the books! I am 5,799 ft above sea level and on top of the world!All around are 360 degree views of the Presidential range and beyond along with the famous Mt Washington which no longer seems out of reach. In fact I now think it will seem like a cakewalk compared to what I have just put myself through. A breakthrough- My anxieties toward the Rockpile no longer exist!

Shilajit capsules is branded as cheapest viagra tablets to erectile dysfunction. This buying viagra canada product works by strengthening the veins, thus reducing the leakage of fluid from blood vessel walls. The researchers divided cialis purchase the study into two parts. The usefulness of a hand tool shows that they are cheapest brand viagra browse around now not going away anytime soon. (Click here for video: Adams Summit)

(Click here for video: More summit)

However this long slow trek has put me far behind schedule and I am not sure I will be able to make it over to Madison at this point and still make it down before dark. Night hiking is not the end of the world, but I prefer to have daylight, especially if I am unfamiliar with the trail. Still there is NO WAY I am going down the way I came up, so I at least have to start down toward the hut and get a more moderate trail to descend, even if I have to save Madison for another day. As I make my way down there is still a part of me that is holding on to the hopes of a 2 peak day… Or maybe there is a bunk open at the Hut? (Fat chance on this holiday weekend!). Still I am racing downward unsure exactly of what my next turn will be. By the time I get to the hut, it is 4:30 and the top of the Madison cone seems within arm’s reach. Should I run up and down with a ½ minute of summit views? Just so I can say I tried, I ask the caretakers if there are any bunks and of course there are none. So now, it’s crunch time.  What’s it gonna be? Adams was an awesome undertaking with rewards like no other, but it totally kicked my ass! Downhill can be knee jarring especially when fatigued from a long day’s journey. So I reluctantly give succumb to the reality that Madison will have to wait. So close and yet so far!

As I begin my descent down Valley way at first I am upset and overcome with disappointment in myself and pissed off at the Adams family. Now I will have to climb all the way up here again???? …But wait… Now I GET TO climb all the way up here again! Slowly I come to grips with my disappointment, and look at things in a new light. I just pushed myself to accomplish an amazing task that went beyond my previous limits and now I can take another route perhaps from the east or southeast to Madison’s summit, which will take me through unseen areas of the whites. It is only Friday and I still have Saturday and Sunday on this trip, so there is plenty of time to get some redemption. I am pretty sure I will be resting tomorrow, but I will now set my sights on Sunday for a Madison return after an early morning checkout. I soak my feet in the cool stream a ways down and continue to the base grateful for this experience.

As I approach the  base of the mountain and the Appalachia trail head, I pass a sign that warns “Try this trail only if you are in top physical condition…”

That is the understatement of the day for sure…

Part 2 Madison-  “Madison” as in Mad is the Son of God at me for coming back so soon after the message was made clear that I was an unwelcome guest up here. Or at least that’s the way it seemed as I struggled to stay upright and make my way across the rocky windy viewless summit… But it all started out just fine on another mostly sunny summer day….MOSTLY sunny.

This is more like it! Normal hiking up moderate mountain trails and (other than the summit) no rock climbing! Fresh off the toughest climb of my life just 2 days ago, I am back to finish what I started. Adams deprived me of a 2 peak day, putting me within arm’s reach of Madison’s summit – so close and yet so far. Today I woke with the birds, packed up camp and got an early start at some redemption. I chose Pine Link Trail to lead me up the east side of the mountain, and in the early goings, things are much better with conditions more like what I am used to. This trail must be one of the lesser used as well because I have the place to myself. Either that or everyone has hit the road early on this post-holiday Sunday. In any case, I am glad to be settling the score immediately following a disappointing finish to Friday’s hike.

The sun has returned after yesterday’s overcast and there are higher winds (I would soon learn just how high) in the forecast. There are plenty of photo ops as usual and I am reminded that I need to invest in a better camera soon, as I have to delete pics from my phone to make room for new ones.
About a mile into the trek the trail merges with trickling streams and I find myself hiking in the water for a good stretch, luckily with good waterproof boots. Today I plan to first and foremost summit Madison of course, then if possible hike down the west side to Madison Springs Hut and take a walk to the nearby Star Lake, since I rushed by this section the other day. Then I’ll follow Pine Link along the north side of the summit area boulders to rejoin the trail to the point where I can retrace my steps back to where my ride home awaits.

Throughout the course of the day, a few outlooks offer some decent views to surrounding mountain ranges, like the Carters and the Northern Presi ranges. At the last of these I get a great 180°+ view including a look up to the summit that eluded me when I last stepped on this ground just days before. Maddie looks different from this approach (I nickname her only now that I am scribbling across the page the words that portray the beauty, unpredictability, and wrath of a woman). The winds are picking up a bit now and clouds are blowing across the peak that no longer appears cone shaped. Some of the more distant clouds, quickly making their way on to the scene are appearing dark and ominous. Hmmm could be sumth’n-a- brew’n up there. It doesn’t look too menacing though –still more white than grey and a good amount of blue in the mix, but it all seems to be moving in quickly from the direction of my fresh footprints and claw prints I left along the wall of King Ravine. There is no foul weather in the forecast, so ONWARD AND UPWARD.

As I continue to push on, I witness the lands transformation around me: The trees dwarfing, the lush green plants morphing to dry sparse scrub, the wet ground mud giving way to boulders, the wind picking up, and then sure enough the sign: “Welcome to the Alpine Zone…”, where Maddie had her own little wakeup call in store for me.
Those clouds are causing some concern in the back of my mind as I drive forward with the summit within reach. I know I will be completely exposed up there, and if things turn on me I have 2 options: turn back for a second time to the protection of the forest, or hustle up and over the summit to the Hut to wait out any possible storm. No eminent threat is in view other that high winds and some off color clouds, so I am opting for the second option for now and cautiously continue onward. A sign for Watson Path soon appears. This being the most direct route, I follow it.

The trail is no longer littered with blue blazes and now only an occasional Cairn marks the way every 30 feet or so, and strangely out of place on these gray rock piles are a white topping of quartz. Then further ahead an outcropping of these white stones splashed among the sea of gray that make up the majority of the area. The wind is now getting much stronger, to the point where it is extremely difficult to stay upright. Each step I take is now more deliberate, as I hunch over and widen my stance, digging in hard with my poles in an effort to make myself a more stable object. The gusts are the strongest I have in memory and I am now in fear for my safety. I am the only one up here that I can see, although I can’t see 20 feet in front of me so there may be others for all I know. But this feeling of being alone and exposed and uncertain if a storm is on the way gives me a strange uneasiness.  Well at this point it is no easier to turn back than it is to push forward, so I struggle through the intense wind trying not to get blown off the mountain, my face contorting, my knuckles whitening, my limbs shaking, my ears popping, my heart racing, my rain jacket windbreaker flapping violently in this tempest.

When I find a spot where I think I have a decent balance, I make a mad dash for my phone to try to get some of this unbelievable force of nature on video. This proves to be a precarious task indeed, as it feels as though these fierce winds will rip the device from my two handed death grip, or worse, rip me off of the mountain, and I am only able to get a few very shaky seconds of footage.

(Click here for video: Maddie’s wrath)

As I merge with Osgood Trail and finally reach Madison’s summit, I can faintly make out another group in the distance ahead, making their way down toward the hut. This is somewhat reassuring and puts my mind a bit more at ease. I take a quick summit photo and take the same route toward the hut to get out of this wind. No lingering around and taking in any views today. More of a tag-it and bag-it kind of day for me! I feel good that I made it anyway and that I’m heading toward shelter from this exposure.
As I make my way to the saddle area between Madison and Adams, I see a few more groups heading up opposite my direction. This makes me relax even more and makes me think that some of my anxious moments were never any real cause for concern, and now I am assured that I am NOT the only one crazy enough to be up here. The wind has calmed considerably and I can now return to hiking normally as the color returns to my knuckles.

I have been starving for some time now, but stopping at the summit was not an option. So after a quick pit stop at the hut I head back out and take the side trail to Star Lake for a well-deserved lunch break. I can now settle on a rock, take it down a few notches and enjoy some of my surroundings, taking some shots across the lake toward Maddie’s cone, and behind me up toward the Adam’s family, and to the south across the great gulf more views of Washington and the auto road.

After I have had my fill of above treeline scenes, I make my way back to Pine Link which skims the north base of the cone at a more sheltered elevation. As I slowly head across the bolder field I realize that although I was never in any real danger , I now have a deeper respect and appreciation for mother nature and her brute force in the alpine zone. This was a wakeup call and a reminder of how quickly things can turn around up here. I was already aware of the dangers and unpredictable weather patterns in the area but there is something to be said for experiencing some of it first hand, even though I know this was really just a small taste. It’s no joke! The mountains demand respect, but somehow someway I LOVE IT EVEN MORE!

I slowly retrace my steps down the mountain and see the scenes unfold in reverse order on my out and back route.  Carefully lowering myself down the stream soaked trail, knee jarring foot burning step after step until at last – HOME SWEET CAR!! – complete with a change of clothes, a cooler of food and drink and a nice soft car seat where I get to spend the next 3 ½ hours on the long drive home. I am so thoroughly exhausted from my two day experience, and no, I wouldn’t have it any other way! Until next time, good night mountains – I will see you again very soon.

(Franconia Notch – Lonesome Lake & Cannon – 17)

I post this one on my 48th Birthday, Jan 17 2016. Reflecting on one of those rare days when it wasn’t just about my personal journey but more about sharing the experience with others. At this time I now have just 13 peaks left on my quest for completing the NH48 (while I am still 48). My last hike was New Years day 2016 in the Carters- A wonderful but solitary day in the whitest of whites. I was reminded that while these mountains certainly provide a setting for being introspective gaining insights to your own thoughts, sometimes its nice to have company to pass the time and provide a pleasant distraction to the physical task ahead of you. Sometimes I just need to get out of my own head!! This was one of those lucky days where I got a break from myself: Father’s Day 2015 when I got to spend some rare time with my son in my favorite place…

It’s Fathers Day! …Well, actually the day before, but they are forecasting rain for Sunday so this is the day we picked for our long awaited Father/Son hike! Chad has spent the week on Orchard Beach Maine with his friends and just returned last night, pretty wiped out actually, but he has kept his promise and is in the passenger seat of the Rav4 for a camping weekend with the old man.

We were supposed to drive up last night but I threw him a bone and let him get some sleep at home before dragging him back on the road. Plus this way, we get to set up camp in daylight which is always a good thing. A 6:30 wakeup gets us to the trail head at 10ish with plenty of time to hike before raising the tent roof.

We picked a shorter hike than our original plan from last year of the Franconia Ridge Loop: Yes, another change in strategy. In fact I believe that’s 0 for 17 for intended vs actual hikes for me, but I have come to expect this and go along with the mountain’s plan for me (which usually ends up being better anyway). Well maybe the day’s adjustment was man-made this time around, as Chad spoke up and admitted that an 8 or 9 hour hike just wasn’t in him after the busy week ( of “social activity” ) he’s had. You gotta respect that the kid knows his limits. Many of us tend to push beyond our limit which is also admirable until it leads to ignoring the body saying enough is enough, which can give way to trouble on the trail. Besides, I am happy just to share some of my passion for hiking with the boy and hope some of it rubs off, or at least that he enjoys the experience and finds a piece of the peace in the Whites.

So this is a low stress trek for me too. Since I really have no idea of his fitness level for hiking, the Ridge Loop would probably be asking too much of him. Quite honestly the idea of doing it as his first hike had me a bit anxious, so this is a huge load off my mind and now I can just enjoy his company and we can take in some of the outdoors together. Instead, we will drop off some things at Lafayette Campground and head up Lonesome Lake Trail to the Lake and see how we feel from there to possibly summit Cannon. We chose this peak because it gives us the option of taking the tram down if it becomes too much of an undertaking. I am perfectly ok with a short journey to the Lake too. On many occasions I have found more enjoyment on the way up the mountain than the actual peak, sometimes simply because the summits tend to be a bit more crowded than the trails with the convergence of many routes to the peak and the various extended breaks for lunch and views.

So after check in to site 54 we discover that the beginning of the trail runs right by our site and we start our walk. After several steps and a few adjustments to our packs we pause for a good stretch. No need to invite any needless injuries. A few gulps of water and we are back on our way. Taking family on hikes has been fun! I’d love to take each family member on at least one of these trips on my way to completing the 48. I know we are planning an ADK backpack trip with my sister Therese at some point this summer. A few weeks ago I took my sister Maryjeanne up Monadnock and now I get some rare precious moments with my son.  In both cases I get to show my fellow hiker some of what I have learned through my experiences and through various reading sources. Some of the knowledge tidbits I share include: tips on breathing, pole use, form, balance, using the “rest-step”, zig-zag traversing the trail, etc. But I’m careful not to blab their ears off too much and know when to just shut up and let nature do some of its own speaking. I would be thrilled to be a part of Chad discovering this voice that speaks to me time after time on these journeys, calming my soul. …Just to get him breathing in this fresh mountain air is a good start though.

What expert expert services are generic tadalafil uk obtainable that will assist in digestion. The dancing scenes are worth seeing again and against. #17 Bo Jackson – One was cut short when buy levitra online Bo Jackson suffered a career ending hip injury. Of course these are just a few of them side negative effects may be visible during initial period of its exposure, it should cede once body adapts to its use. brand levitra online is a doctor prescribed drug that should be used only after choosing the right medical assist. So, when it starts working the muscles of the penis rapidly, then a person will not be able to hold on to that positive attitude and I guess everything will just fall into the correct generic cialis article cialis super active places. Speaking of breathing, it’s not too long before I am reminded once again (like 2 weeks ago with MJ) that although I always thought I was someone who took my time to absorb the surroundings, it turns out that my pace is a bit fast relative to someone not accustomed to hiking regularly. So I slow my steps to my hiking buddy’s comfort zone, offering to let him lead and set the pace. He declines the offer because he wants me to find the safe route ahead of him I suppose. So I will make a conscious effort to keep my eye in the rear view mirror so to speak. Chad is in great shape in the sense of muscle building and endurance with many weight lifting trips to the gym under his belt, but perhaps not so much fitness in the aerobic cardiovascular areas. I am keeping an eye out for any reaction to the higher elevations too, but I don’t think it’s much of an issue around here, certainly not anything like out in the Rockies or anything like that.

To my delight Chad seems to be enjoying himself and his time with his dad. We have a few bonding moments, playful banter, and brief but meaningful exchanges (What more can a dad ask on Father’s Day?) but I’m trying to keep the conversation to a minimum too. I don’t want to turn this into a lecturing session. I have come to grips with letting go a bit lately and letting him lead his own life and build on his own experiences. Also the woods have a way of putting thing in perspective if you let it. If he can experience any of that my job here is complete. Plus, too many words can take a toll on your breathing rhythm I have found.

As much I am trying to do what I can to facilitate a summit visit with the boy, at some point Chad makes the decision to tough it out as far as the Lake and turn back to the campsite after lunch, but insists that I continue on to Cannon so I can check another peak off the list. “Dad you need to do this!” he says. I explain that it’s not all about that for me. Well it’s a little about that, but also so much more than just a list. I am perfectly fine turning back with him and saving seventeen for another day, but we’ll see after lunch how I feel.

Lonesome Lake offers great views of Cannon & Cannonballs, The Kinsmans, and the Franconia Ridge with a postcard like, Bob Ross- esque shoreline scene of trees reflecting their reverse image on the water’s surface. We get few photos of these backdrops, and goofy father/son selfies before a well-deserved sandwich, and then I decide to take him up on his suggestion and continue on to Cannon’s summit. I know he is truly fine with some alone time and could honestly use a good nap anyway. He is normally a night owl these days and isn’t accustomed to these early wakeups. So we continue the loop around the lake and part ways at the Dodge Cutoff to High Cannon Trail, with a few parting words of advice on hiking downward.

The next few hours are more of me doing my thing, getting my solo climb on, and doin my dance with nature as the trail becomes steeper. Once again, I like to call this “solo” (as I’ve said before) and not “alone”, as we are one big happy hiking family here in the woods. Today this feeling is taken to a new level, as I swear Chad is indeed walking with me the whole way, and I find myself talking out loud to him from time to time. I really am so appreciative of our rare time together on this pre-father’s day hike of ours. (cue Harry Chapin’s “Cat’s in the Cradle”) As I make it to the lookout tower at the summit, enjoy the views and then take a stroll around the rim loop toward the tram, I come across a granite bench that reads “This bench is dedicated to the spirit of the mountain and to those souls who mirrored its beauty.” I can’t think of a better dedication today. It’s great to have a few of these awesome peaks that are accessible to anybody who desires them, not just the avid hiker or skier but physically disabled and the spiritually willing. Although I must admit the manmade feel of the tram is not my favorite, I understand its purpose and its ability to reach those who cannot climb. I suppose the same holds true for Loon and Washington which also have alternate ways to their summits.

All this being said my stay up top is short lived as must return to the part that inspires me the most, the trail through the land less disturbed by human hands. I begin my descent back down to the campsite to rejoin Chad, set up camp and enjoy some burgers, dogs & a few beers by the campfire like we have so many times before. What a great day, and a great Father’s Day gift! Hope you can join me again soon my son. Love You!