Baxter Trip #4 - Chimney Pond 10/11-10/12 2009

SHUT DOWN

Three trips to Katahdin this fall just weren't enough - I hadn't done the Knife Edge yet this year and wanted to get back one more time before winter set in. I had made reservations for two nights in a lean-to at Chimney Pond back in August.  I had Lean To #9 (the nice woman at the office in Millinocket said it was a really nice one) which slept four. The foliage was at it's peak and I hoped for a good holiday weekend. We had Sunday and Monday night so we hoped head up to Chimney Sunday afternoon and then get up early and do "the big loop" - up Dudley across the Knife Edge to Baxter Peak, then walk all the way around the cirque to Hamlin peak and back to camp for another night. Well, it didn't work out that way.

Our cast of characters this trip consisted of my brother Aaron, my long time hiking buddy Pete (Pete and I hiked all of ME & NH on the AT together in sections) and Kris, my friend and band mate. Kris & I had been on a day trip up to Chimney Pond earlier in the year and he was excited to return to stand on top this time.

Kris, and Pete met at my place, where I made a huge breakfast of eggs, bacon, polenta, toast and plenty of coffee. We all piled into my car and drove north together. We had a great time - Peter and Kris didn't know one another and Pete was in rare form, telling hilarious stories about his job as an ER nurse. Pete, along with my brother is among the funniest people I know and we were bound to have a lot of laughs on this trip.

We were meeting my brother Aaron at Shawn's camp on the Golden Road - we went to Millinocket and up the Golden Road, past the park about 23 miles to Shawn's camp. The weather had been pretty sketchy and the mountain itself was currently engulfed in a large black cloud - we had driven through some serious cold rain as we passed the mountain. We stayed and talked with Shawn & Carlene for a awhile, none of us in any hurry to get up to the lean-to. The weather was supposed to break and become clear tomorrow.

Aaron had borrowed my father's truck - it is a 4x4 with four doors, good for the Golden Road and plenty of room for 4 guys and all our crap. Kris told me on the ride home he had cracked up as Aaron told us the story of borrowing the truck: "...so Dad said, don't take my truck we might need to take us and the dog to town - take Debbie's truck. Her truck has a bumper sticker that says Lookin' For A Cowboy! I'm not driving that thing! So, if you need to take the dog to town - DON'T!) We loaded up and drove back through the cloud - the lower reaches of the mountain we looking frosted with rime. Oh my.

We pulled into the Togue Pond gatehouse, we passed through without incident but were told that all the trails out of Chimney had been closed today due to snow and ice, but Abol and the Hunt Trail (trails on the west side of the mountain) had been open.

We had a brief discussion of the plan, in the end we chose head up to Chimney and hope for the best in the morning. We set out from Roaring Brook at about 3:30 or so, headed up the 3.3 mile trail to our lean to. The wind was howling up on the mountain and we had no problem staying cool on the hike in. It was pretty much dark when we arrived and VERY cold - the sound of the wind was incredible. It was as if the entire Basin were a big pan flute - I've experienced some insane winds on Mount Washington but never heard it like this before.

We found our lean to, it was fairly new an situated away from the rest - it indeed was a nice spot as the office lady had said. I headed down to the ranger's cabin to check us in. Ranger Rick was on the radio with HQ and I stood in the office across the desk from him for about 10 minutes as he discussed the weather forecast and conditions. It must have been 85 degrees inside with the wood stove roaring. He ended his conversation and said "Phelps, eh? - I've been waiting for you.  Where have you been?" Let me just come out and say that Ranger Rick ACTS like a dick head. Yes. A condescending tool. I'm not saying he IS a dick head, I don't know him personally - he could be the greatest guy in the world.

Now, I understand that they have to deal with a lot of people up there, and there is no real way to tell and experienced hiker from Joe tourist. I understand that if someone is injured that it's the rangers that but go save them. Regardless the message they have to deliver is the same and there is absolutely no reason do be a jerk about it. It's the attitude, tone and body language. We'd experienced it once before on a winter trip with Ranger Rob. Ranger Stuart was the old pro - he enforced the parks rules and policies, but did it without preaching or posturing.

I explained that we were in no hurry to sit around in the lean to it was going to be a 12 hour night as it was. "Well I'm shutting down the mountain - you're not going ANYWHERE tomorrow - understand? If you want to walk over to Blueberry Knoll you can I guess but that's it."

I said not another word and turned around and walked out of the cabin. Ok then - better have fun tonight because we're not doing anything tomorrow I thought. I was disappointed but really not surprised, if I just decided to stay home every time the forecast was unfavorable, I'd never get to the top of anything. I headed down to the pond to fill up my 6 liter water bag to bring back to camp for boiling/filtering. I sat in the dark for a bit listening to the wind above and stopped to think about the ill fated climbing party in the 70's who spent the night out on the Knife Edge in winter with winds like this, with tragic consequences.

When I returned to the shelter, Aaron was demonstrating how his Little Debbie snack cakes had been buffed to a mirror shine in his pack on the hike in. I had asked Pete to bring his 8' x 10' sil-nylon tarp (which we use backpacking - he made it himself along with his backpack) It turned out to be EXACTLY the dimension of the front of the lean to. Which was good because about this time it began to snow!

Snow began to blow around everywhere and we hastily lashed the tarp across the front of the shelter. I'll never forget the look on Kris' face as the snow began to blow into the lean to - our last trip to Baxter had been his first camping trip since being a little kid.

The tarp could not have worked out much better - other that it flapping in the wildly gusting wind. We joked and laughed for several hours hanging out in our sleeping bags before finally falling asleep in a chorus of snores.

We awoke as the light of the morning appeared and then promptly rolled over to sleep some more.

The sight of the ice routes formed with little or no snow on them was breathtaking. I had been here in the winter before and our objective was the main ice flow in the center of this image - the Cilley-Barber Route. We were cursed with 3 consecutive extremely cold and windy days and we were unable to attempt a route - our friends tried to climb on the Pamola ice cliffs and the ice was so cold and hard they couldn't get ice screws in!

King Day-Glo

Pete looks a little cold - staring at the headwall

Heading Out

Brrr

As we walked down to the pond for water and a view, we could see the Cathedral and Saddle trails plastered with snow and ice.

We decided to bail - all trails on the mountain were closed today (including the west side trails) - so we headed out down the Chimney Pond Trail. The snow had blown off and there was less than an inch or two on the trail. The previous two Columbus Day weekends had been warm and sunny on the mountain, but sometimes that's how it goes. We drove back to the camp and dropped Aaron off, and navigated the Golden Road to Greenville where large slabs of beef were consumed with much gusto!  Good times!

Take it to the bridge! - Wild River Loop 10/5 2009

GOING WILD

The leaves had turned and were looking spectacular so I decided to head to Evans Notch to do a trip into the Wild River Valley on the ME/NH border. We were playing our annual gig the Fryeburg Fair on Monday, about a half an hour from the Notch. It had been a busy weekend of gigs so I chose to sleep in on Sunday and take it easy, I reached the parking lot at the Wild River Campground just a bit after sundown. I was going to stay at the Blue Brook Shelter - 2.3 miles up the Basin Trail and then get up early and do a nice long loop of trails I had never walked before.

I passed the cascades and stopped for a drink. I never get tired of hiking by headlamp, you end up seeing things on a different level.  The full moon was beginning to rise above the ridge to my left, lighting the water on my right. I sat there for quite a while, in no hurry to get to camp.

I headed out again and soon was at the junction of the spur trail leading to the shelter. I decided to continue on to Rim Junction to get the clear view of the valley in the moonlight. The ledgy outlook is much like a large granite couch, I rolled out my pad and sat back and enjoyed the scene below. Basin Pond and it's feeder stream looked like mercury as they reflected the moonlight. I decided that I had to walk some more - the Basin Rim Trail hugs the edge of the upper rim of the valley passing over several open ledges. My friend RJ and I had done this section in the winter once before and I knew the terrain.

I set out and had a great time making my way along the trail, I had to search around a couple of times to find the way from open ledges back into the woods once again. I was nearing Mount Meader and was feeling ready for some sleep. Soon I reached the summit of Ragged Jacket and headed well off the trail to camp on a nice ledge. I quickly made camp and decided to forgo cooking dinner, it was going to be cold tonight as it was quite clear and I thought the hot meal would be better in the morning. I quickly setup the tent and was in the bag and asleep in about 20 minutes.

I slept like a log and awoke at 6 am.  I cooked breakfast and sat on a boulder and waited for the sunrise, which didn't disappoint. The valley was filled with mist and it looked to be a great day. The summit of Mount Meader appeared before me, after passing a particularly interesting ledgy area completely carpeted in moss. I sang most of the tunes on the album "Tony Rice Plays and Sings Bluegrass", I did Brown Mountain Light twice when I realized I was a half step to low the first time. The Meader Rim trail was as easy and rolling as can be, with constantly changing views as it wound around.

East and West Royce

Mists in the Valley

Two Miles to Eagle Link

It was such a nice morning, the sun felt warm after such a cold night. I was making great time, feeling strong and thankful. It was a couple more nice miles to Eagle Crag alternately weaving through the woods and open ledges, with increasing views to the south.

View to the North from Eagle Crag

South Baldface and it's ledgy shoulder

I stopped for a break on Eagle Crag, there were a lot of clouds over the Carter range - there was a hole in the clouds that lit up the orange foot hills of Carter Dome, it almost looked like a forest fire. It was time to head west down the Eagle Link trail to the Wild River. The trail was rough and wet at first but soon entered a beautiful section of white birch all with with golden leaves. I cleared a few blown down trees along the way and soon was at the river.

The trail here joined an old logging road and was smooth and easy. I came upon the Spruce Brook Shelter - well, the spot where it used to be! I read the notice saying how this shelter as well as the Blue Brook Shelter (where I had planned to stay last night) had be removed. I left the site and quickly reached to the Black Angel Trail junction. I turned to cross the river on the Spider Bridge, walked down the large granite steps to find... NO BRIDGE!  Hmmm... I could have taken the Highwater trail back to the trailhead, but the goal of this trip was to do as much new trail as possible - I was close to the car, it was a nice day so I took my changes with crossing and made it 3/4 of the way across before having to commit to fording knee deep - it was fine and I rested on the other side. The shoes I use in the summer are almost all mesh so I try and avoid stepping in puddles etc. When I have to ford a river it's almost a relief to not have to bother anymore since my feet couldn't get any wetter! Unlike boots, they always dry out.

View back across the river

The last 2.6 miles were flat and easy and I passed through this meadow which smelled excellent. Soon I was back at the trailhead and noticed the large signs posted telling hikers about the shelter and bridge removals! After years of looking at them and never seeing any important or relevant info - I will have to start looking again. I ended up back at the car quite ahead of schedule so I drove around to Pinkham Notch and took a shower in the pack room downstairs followed by dinner in North Conway. We had a great time playing at the fair as usual - and I discovered the best fair food of all time: MINI DONUTS!

Hancock Notch-Carrigan Loop 9/18 2009

Good morning! Yes, it's 3:42am and here we are at the end of the Sawyer River Road off route 302 near Crawford Notch. We played a gig at Gritty McDuff's in Portland tonight and I made good time getting here. The plan is to walk for a while and then setup the tent, sleep as long as I want and then begin a 23.7 mile loop hike through Hancock Notch, down the Cedar Brook Trail to the Wilderness Trail then up the infamous Desolation Trail up the back side of Mt Carrigain (4500') and finally down Signal Ridge back to the car. My only restriction was I had to be back by Saturday afternoon to play at the Acres Of Wildlife Campground's "Bluegrass Weekend" - I could start when I chose and camp wherever the end of my energy found me.

I walked for a little over a mile and came to a slightly confusing marshy area with a brook crossing I crossed and wandered around a bit and eventually came upon the trail leading onward just down from where I had crossed. I spied an ideal flat spot off the trail and setup my tent and quickly fell asleep until almost noon!  It was great!

I had some cereal - maybe even Frankenberry, which is nothing like when I was a kid and frankly it sucks.  I'm all about the Mini-Wheats these days anyhow... It was under 15 minutes from awake to packed and breakfast eaten and I was headed down the trail. The sky was overcast with occasional sunny breaks. I felt great and was making great time down the abandoned logging roads and railroad beds that the trail followed for most of the journey. After an hour or so it began to rain. Once I entered Hancock Notch it was raining in earnest and I just kept my pace up, stopping to eat and drink in the lulls in the rain. The route through Hancock Notch is a narrow path cut through dense scrub spruce high above the floor of the notch. The trees guaranteed I was good and moist - I felt like I was in a carwash at one point which made me laugh out loud.

After a few hours the rain came to an end.  Once you're soaked it's always fine anyway, you always eventually dry out. I kicked it into high gear as I made my way down the Cedar Brook Trail and by the time I had reached the Wilderness Trail my shirt was dry beneath my jacket and I stopped and swapped out my wet sock and insoles for my dry set, a trick I learned from Andrew Skurka.

I took this shot at the suspension bridge that used to cross the Pemi - it was scheduled to be removed the following weekend.

Pemigewasset River (pamijoassek) - Abenaki for "the river having its course through here."

I still had over four miles to make it past Stillwater Junction and the large no camping zone around it.  I planned to stop at the junction of the delightfully named Desolation Trail where there was a stream crossing and get water and make dinner and then head up the trail a bit to a legal campsite up the trail a bit. My one person tent is so small it can fit almost anywhere and I'm not hung up on a flat spot so it almost always works out fine.

As I followed along the river I heard some strange sounds, a loud crack like a gun going off and various vocalizations somewhere across the wide and raging river. Some time later, I came upon the source, a large campsite of several tents on the opposite side of the river complete with boombox, RAGING, ENORMOUS BONFIRE and the crack of trees being broken and dragged in to the inferno.
The fire smelled good at least.

It was becoming dark and I got out my headlamp and cruised along the former railroad bed at a great pace even as it was climbing steadily. I came out to a wide rocky riverbed and it took a minute to discover the path into the dense spruce thicket on the opposite bank in the dark. This one and a half foot wide pathway felt like some alpine hedge maze and it continued on for quite a bit. I reached Stillwater Jct and turned right and soon I was following the left bank of the river - up until this point the entire trip had been all new terrain for me. I remembered this section from a previous hike and knew I was close to the river crossing and dinnertime!

I got water and setup my cat food can stove (I just love saying "Fancy Feast Dahhhling?" every time I set it up) and began boiling water for tonight's freeze dried delight "Spicy Thai Chicken". It was very cold out and had been a long day - the hot food was just what I needed.  I ate it in the dark listening to the river and running through the mental slideshow of the days images. I had done 17 miles since noon and I felt excellent. I quickly packed up and made my way about ten minutes up the trail where I found a nice little bivy site in the woods. It was a long cold night, and I slept fitfully.

A cold night is always great motivation to get up early! I warmed up some water and made a bottle of 1/2 warm orange Gatorade which is nice to hold onto after tearing the tent down and fells good going down on a cold morning. The Desolation Trail held a fairly true course up the mountainside rising steadily.  It climbs 2500' in 1.9 miles!  I was feeling good and stopped only once to drink and snack. The sky slowly lightened and by time I reached the steep section I had been hearing about for years, I put away my headlamp.

It was very steep and quite a scramble in places, almost dead vertical in spots - there were good sized foot holds and various handholds but if you blew it you'd be toast. I was very conscious of my current location and situation and placed each step very carefully.

Soon it was over and I noticed the wind had picked up considerably. I saw a thick fog blowing across the ridge ahead of me. Soon the trees were coated with rime!

I was getting a bit cold but I knew the summit was very close and I wanted to keep moving until then.

 

I tried to climb the tower but it was an ice coated death trap

I was pretty excited about the white stuff and lingered on the summit as long as I dared.  I made my way down the summit cone to Signal Ridge, a nice exposed section the on a clear day provides great views, but not today. Shortly after re-entering the woods, I saw my first other hikers of the day, being a Saturday and all. I probably passed 25 hikers all on their way up the Signal Ridge Trail. I was making good time despite the rough, rocky trail. My pack was feeling light and I had great energy and it was getting warmer by the minute. I reached the final river crossing and had decided to try out the shortcut of the fire road back to the trail head, avoiding one or two mile road walk in the process.  The spot seemed very obvious so I turned right onto the obvious old road. I was easy to follow and brought me almost directly back to the car but for a wrong turn at the very end. I came to the road just slightly short of the trail head. I reached the car and went down to the riverbank and soaked by tired feet in the icy cold water. It hurt so good - eww did I just say that...

Hey, get a crew up here to install some more pointy rocks right away!

Sunset Cruise - Franconia Ridge 9/7 2009

SUNSET CRUISE

Well, it had been quite a week of mountain time. The traverse on Friday, Chocorua on Sunday and now it was Monday - it was time to do the ridge. Much like Katahdin, it's a hike you should do at least once a year. It's stunning the entire way, not too long and a huge payoff. The plan was to climb up the Falling Waters trail, 3.2 miles and 3000' feet of elevation gain to Little Haystack (4760') then along the treeless ridge for just under two miles, passing over the summit of Mt Lincoln (5089') and finally to Mt Lafayette (5260') then down the Old Bridle Path, past the Greenleaf Hut and back to the lot.

One of my early hikes was with my longtime friend - Brother Thomas. (He and I were the founding members of what became Jerks of Grass) We hiked the ridge together and the sun set as we reached the summit of Lafayette - and as we ate our food, the full moon unexpectedly rose behind us, completely lighting our way. We decided to go all the way BACK across the ridge and on to Mt Liberty. It was an epic journey in several respects, especially when we entered the scrub trees for the two miles from Haystack and Liberty and the moon gave out on us, just like our (only) flashlight. We carefully picked our way along, were dived bombed by several bats and finally slept wrapped in our nylon tent rainfly until the dawn and the dew woke us up.

Franconia Ridge - the goal for the day

Kinsmans and Cannon Cliff

It was almost almost 4:30pm when I arrived at the trailhead. The lot was still pretty full and many hikers were coming down the trail on this busy Labor Day. I was feeling lucky to have once again missed the crowds. I was starting late because sunset was at 7:13, and moonrise at 8:03. I hoped to reach Little Haystack at sunset, stroll across the ridge in the fading light and then enjoy the moonrise from Lafayette summit.

It was yet another perfect weather day. The trail follows the oddly named Dry Brook, passing by three waterfalls along the way. I believe this pic is Cloudland Falls. I took a moment to remember Shu Qin, a 28 year old tourist from China who tragically died in 2008 from a freak rockfall in this area. This story really struck me when I heard it - how tragic. Thousands of people: kids, families, etc. all pass by that very spot every year. It is the nature of the universe for random events to occur however and we must accept such things.

At the 1.6 mile point the trail crosses Dry Brook for the last time and begins to follow a long series of switchbacks. I heard the sound of several hikers singing together in French for some time before we finally passed. They were all smiles and I enjoyed their song, humming the melody to myself for quite a while afterward.

I passed the junction with the Shining Rock spur path after a good blast up the trail, it was a little over a mile and a half from the brook to treeline and I had decided not to stop until I reached the alpine zone sign. The alpine zone sign means "big views dead ahead" and always serves to re-energize me while hiking. The next thing I knew the view had opened up and I was on top of Little Haystack.

Welcome to the ridge

I checked my watch and I was WAY early... it had only taken an hour and a half to reach this point, which normally would be good, but today I had hoped to see the sunset/moonrise. The good news was that I could slow down and really enjoy the ridge walk and take lots of photos.

Mt Flume and Mt Liberty

View of Mount Lincoln Summit - Lafayette is hidden behind

You can see the majority of the NH 4000'+ peaks from here

Nice look across the Pemigewasset Wilderness

  I had the ridge to myself the entire way - after Haystack I saw zero hikers

The cloud which had formed over the summit of Lafayette was constantly swirling, growing and shrinking

 

 

Now the mists were blowing up from the valley and catching the pink light of the steadily fading sun - this is from the small sub-peak between Lincoln and Lafayette

South view from the summit

 Signage

Cairnage?

The sun was setting fast as I made my way down the west face of the mountain on the Old Bridle Path, headed toward Greenleaf Hut and treeline. I waited until I absolutely couldn't continue without my headlamp. After fishing it out of my pack I walked for another 90 seconds and was at the hut! I walked in on two naturalists giving a lecture to the few guests staying at the hut on the trees of the White Mountain Region which I found fascinating. I lingered for quite awhile as I filled my water and ate my cereal and milk I had brought for dinner.

 

You can see the reflection of the roof of the hut below

I made my descent by headlamp, down the Three Agonies - steep rocky sections of the Old Bridle Path named by hut croo members carrying 100lb pack boards of supplies. I knew the trail well and soon arrived at one of the overlooks and I the moon was threatening to rise over the ridge. I sat there for quite a while expecting the valley to light up any minute now, but it wasn't to be.

Did you guys know that Ashley Sucks? You've been warned.

Ahh another adventure comes to an end... I made the long familiar drive home. This trip was the culmination of a weekend of amazing views, perfect weather and great feelings. Life is what you make it - make it good!