I took an easy day on Sunday, my first full day in Sandwich. In the morning, I walked up West Rattlesnake. After spending time at the beach with the relatives, I strutted up Eagle Cliff in my Tivas to enjoy more incredible views.
Day 3 — The Moats, 9.7 miles
On Monday, I received company on the hiking trail. Dad, Caitlin and Kristen joined me to summit the three Moat mountains that sit just west of Conway. After dropping off Caitlin’s car at the crowded Diana’s Bath parking lot north of the trail, we returned to the south terminus to begin our hike. I had done a similar hike two years ago by myself; what I remembered most about it were the plentiful views and blueberries. This time was no different. The 2.7-mile hike up to South Moat is no walk in the park, even though the peak sits at just 2,770 feet. Once on top, though, we were treated to 360-degree views and what seemed like unlimited blueberry bushes. We noticed a couple fellow hikers who were almost one with the bushes, filling their Nalgene bottles. They seemed very business-like. We filled our tupperware container with the juicy fruit between the South and Middle Moats and then continued on, enjoying the views to the west and north. Mt. Washington was even visible in the distance. After reaching Middle Moat (2,805), we descended into dense fir pines for a long stretch before making a final ascent to the windy, open summit of North Moat (3,196). We snapped a few photos on top and had a second lunch before making the long, 4.4-mile descent. By the time we reached the Bath (a little after 7), the last people were leaving. We had the cold, soothing water all to ourselves, and we dipped our legs in for a good 10 minutes. It was the perfect ending to what Caitlin accurately termed as the “hardest day hike not involving 4,000 footers.”
Day 4 — Falling Waters Trail, 7.4 miles
On Tuesday, the other hikers were pretty worn out from Monday’s Moat traverse and I wasn’t exactly itching for a really challenging tramp either. But when Dad suggested that he and Mom would go to the Falling Waters Trail in Franconia Notch and hike to the waterfall 0.7 miles from the base of the trail, I decided to join them and do a little extra hiking. The plan was for me to hike up the 3.2-mile, 3,000-feet-gained trail to Franconia Ridge and over to Mt. Lincoln (and down) in three hours while the parents and Charlie the Pomeranian enjoyed the falls. What I had forgotten from Dad’s and my hike on the trail (although it was descending) three years prior was how difficult and long it was. I didn’t stop once except to take leaks on the ascent, and still it took me close to an hour and a half. The first mile-plus crossed the spectacular waterfalls several times, almost making me want to stop and just bathe in the cool falls. From there, it was all steepness and switchbacks to the ridge. Of course, it was all worth it. When Franconia Ridge is clear of intense cloud cover, its views are phenomenal. First, though, I had to eat. I was starving. I sat down on the summit of Little Haystack and scarfed down my cheese and crackers and some gorp. Then I gave myself 10 minutes to hike as far north on the ridge, while taking pictures, as I could before having to turn around. It wasn’t fun having to leave the ridge after half an hour, but it was still worth it. I ran down Falling Waters, passing several people I had seen on the ridge or even hiking down while I was going up. I was really moving. And I made it to the parents’ waterfalls spot in 2 hours, 52 minutes — flashing Mom a big grin. Before we left. I jumped in the waterfall and the Dad (aka, professional photographer) took several shots of me refreshing myself after the fast-paced hike. I deserved a day off, right?
Day 5 — Mt. Jefferson loop, 6.7 miles
The weather forecast made Wednesday another hiking day. According to weather.com, there was a good chance of rain Thursday and/or Friday, the last two days the Dad would be around. And he was interested in joining me on a loop hike of Mt. Jefferson (5,716 feet). Still, when Dad walked into the kitchen and fixed himself a bowl of granola around 9:15am, he wasn’t sure he wanted any part of what would be a difficult, rock-laden hike. So I decided to drive down to the beach for a quick swim to give him room to decide. Either way, I was pretty sure I wanted to do the hike.
I was a bit surprised when, upon returning, refreshed, from my morning dip, Dad immediately said he was in for the hike. It was time to get ready. The hike was only 6.7 miles, but involved an ascent of the steep Caps Ridge Trail, a descent of the Castle Trail (very steep), and a ridge hike in the woods on The Link, described in the AMC book as having “countless treacherous roots, rocks, and hollows that are very tricky and tedious to negotiate.” Fun stuff.
Thanks to some slow Vermont drivers in front of us, we didn’t get on the trail until close to 1pm. The first 1.1 miles up the Caps Ridge Trail was a breeze, and shortly before seeing the cutoff for the Link, we reached an awesome rocky ledge with outstanding views of what lay ahead (and mostly above) us. About a half mile later, we emerged from the brush and began climbing up several steep rocky ledges. They were fun, though, especially since we could see what lay ahead of us. We stopped at a rock about a mile from the summit for our first round of sandwiches and took in everything around us — the pile of rocks that makes up Jefferson’s summit wasn’t too far away; to the south, we could see the ugly, building- and car-dominated top of Mt. Washington; and to the west, we had great views of dozens of 4,000-footers including Lafayette and the ridge I’d been on a day earlier. From there, it was a long, steady, rock-to-rock climb to the top of Jefferson. Surprisingly, the wind never became strong and although I had my longsleeve shirt on, it really wasn’t necessary. At about the same time Dad reached the summit, so did a kid who couldn’t have been older than 5 and was hiking Jefferson with his Dad and older brother. It was an impressive feat for such a youngster. He celebrated his feat by eating Chicken Nuggets on the summit.
We knew we couldn’t stay for too long, as the ascent hadn’t been quick (because of the steepness and lots of picture-taking). We still had a long, tough descent to go. That was an understatement. The first 0.5 miles on the Castle Trail down the northwest shoulder of the mountain seemed to take an eternity as we carefully stepped from one huge, sharp, obtuse rock to another. The Dad (aka ‘Bust’) was using his poles, but they were only getting in his way. I could tell steepness and rocks were already having an effect on his knees. On a funny sidenote, when we saw three guys a few hundred feet below us apparently sunbathing on some rare flat rocks, I remarked “They must be European,” forgetting how sound travels in the thinner air. A couple seconds later, I heard, “American!” Oops. But that only took the focus off the rock-to-rock descent for a minute.
We eventually reached the Castles, a pair of really cool shaped rock structures (very narrow, looked a bit like boats) that we navigated with careful steps. We stopped on top of one of the Castles and sat on a rocky ledge that overlooked Mt. Adams to the north. That view, more than any, demonstrated to me just how massive these mountains are. Huge. I was surprised to realize that I had run out of the 48 ounces of water in my Camelback. Luckily, Bust still had a lot of his 48 left and let me drink constantly the rest of the hike. But I still felt a bit out of sorts. We later figured it was probably the sun. I had made the mistake of not wearing sunscreen because I was in such a hurry to hit the trail.
When we finally reached the treeline and then, 15 minutes later, the junction for The Link, we celebrated. Only momentarily. We still had a long 1.6 miles of hiking over hundreds of roots, rocks, and slippery wood. The trail wasn’t quite as difficult as described in the book (meaning the book did its job to warn hikers) but it wasn’t exactly fast going, either. The last long stretch, we passed the time by discussed a random idea that popped into my head — a website for those with hiking dogs called hikingdogblog.com. The premise would be that if you weren’t sure your dog could handle a certain hike, you could look up trip reports on the site. I thought it was pure genious. The Dad added a brilliant thought, as well: Have posters write from the dog’s perspective. While we were hashing all this out, the roots, verdant moss, and tricky steps flew by. Next thing we knew, we were back at the Caps Ridge Trail, just an easy 1.1 from the trailhead.
We got back to the car almost right at 8pm just before dark and had visions of getting back to the Red House by 9:30pm where burritos and tacos awaited us. But this was no usual day. As I was driving in the dark along 302, Dad suddenly motioned for me to turn around. He had noticed a hitchhiker crouching in the dark on the shoulder of the road. After two U-turns, I pulled up and we asked the man where he was heading. “Pinkham Notch,” he said in a gruff voice. That was out of our way and I began to explain that to him, but the man pleaded. “I’ll offer you gas money...” he said. Dad relented and the guy loaded his pack into the backseat. During the next 45 minutes, I learned from extensive questioning that the man, who later told me his trail name was ‘Party Animal,’ was hiking, in bits and pieces, the Appalachian Trail for the third time. He had also gone on a world tour and hiked in Nepal. He was a heating and air conditioning contractor in Baltimore by trade, but it seemed like his life was on the trail. When Dad tried to convince him that it’d be easy for him to get another ride from the intersection of 302 and 16, which would spare us 30 minutes, there was dead silence. Party Animal had no intention of getting out of the car. As we continued on Route 16, he talked about his experience in Nepal and hiking up to 22,000 on Mt. Everest, an expedition that led to him having trouble breathing and having to sleep sitting up. His story only reinforced my thoughts on hiking up high — no higher than 20,000 feet. Ever. Finally, our side trip was over, Party Animal slipped me a $20 bill, and we headed home. The tacos still tasted good at 10:30pm.
Day 6 — Rest, no hiking
On Thursday, I didn’t hike at all. But I did work. In the morning, I did the trenches with Dad. Then I joined Chuck, Caitlin, Kristen and Sal for clams and more healthy eats (haha) in Center Harbor followed by time at the beach, including an embarrassing bocce ball loss to the cousins which cost me two coffees. Things got worse Thursday evening, when I was annihilated in a game of Monopoly (Chuck took the cake). My losing streak would continue Friday, when Caitlin pulled out a four-person game of Sorry. In some ways, it’s been a losing vacation for me...
Day 7 — East Rattlesnake, 1.6 miles
But luckily, I can’t lose when I’m hiking. It’s the one thing I do where I always feel in control and always have a great time. On Friday afternoon, despite a downpour that had barely softened all day, I needed my hiking fix, telling Vic, “I can’t go two days without hiking!” and drove to East Rattlesnake for the 0.8-mile ascent of 700 feet to the open rocky summit. I loved every minute of it. Hiking in the rain makes me feel so alive. I don’t know how else to explain it. And when I reached the top, I was greeted by awesome sheets of white clouds hovering over Squam Lake. The scenery almost seemed out of a movie, it was so mythical. I took it all in, snapped some photos, and then ran down the mountain in 8 minutes and stopped by the beach for a swim. Refreshed, I returned to the Red House for a pesto dinner.
Now about those games...
Day 8 — Another rest day
I needed to stay at the Red House in the morning to watch Sydney (Vicky’s new dog that she got from the shelter earlier this year) and Bebe, who amazingly is 12. So I didn’t do much in the morning. In the afternoon, I biked to the Pothole (which was fairly empty; the pothole was only half full, although water was streaming over it, a result of the storm the day before). I then hit the beach later in the afternoon.
Day 9 — Cannon Mountain, 4 miles
On a beautiful, sunny Sunday, I joined Caitlin for a short hike up Cannon Mountain, her 17th 4,000-footer. After an hour drive, we began on the Kinsman Ridge Trail from the parking area near the tramway. It being a Sunday, we were prepared for tourists. The trail doesn’t mess around, getting steep from the beginning with lots of loose gravel. That turns to rocks about half a mile up. The reward, of course, is that you get up the mountain quickly. Before we knew it, we arrived at the awesome, long ledge 1.5 miles up that provides outstanding, widespread views of Franconia Ridge. We hung there for awhile before continuing on the muddy, dipping trail and then ascending toward the summit. As we did that, we were SWARMED by tourists. There must have been 75 of them. They wore flip flops; there was even a stroller. Yes, a stroller on a mountain! We patiently intermixed with them for the final part of the ridge trail and then arrived at the wooden tower that marks the top. After getting the necessary photographic evidence for Caitlin’s feat, we didn’t mess around up top. Instead, we escaped the tourists and returned to our hikers-only ledge for lunch. We finished the hike, including the two breaks, in about four hours.
Sunday afternoon, we rested at the beach, I won my first game of bocce ball, and then we went out to the Corner House in the evening with Sal, Vic and Sue. There were no strollers at the restaurant.
Day 10 — Mt. Eisenhower, 6.6 miles
I knew I wanted to hike Monday, but I wouldn’t be able to do too much because of a busy morning. After buying coffee at Mocha Rising for Caitlin and Kristen as a result of losing a bocce bet, I joined them and Sallie for a two-hour tennis match. I paired up with Kristen and we won the first set, but Sal and Caitlin came back to take the second in a tiebreak and then we played another tiebreak to determine the winner. They won it. I never enjoy losing, but that was a lot of fun.
After returning home, grabbing lunch, and watching a couple of fun videos with the kids, I quickly packed up my Camelback and headed out the door a bit after 1pm. I decided to hike a new trail — the Edmands Path up Mt. Eisenhower. I returned to the same road that had the tralhead for the Caps Ridge Trail, the very rough Jefferson Notch Road off 302 across from the Highland Center (NOTE: Don’t drive this road unless absolutely necessary; lots of bumps and potholes). The Path was about what I expected. It was 2.9 miles, so no easy walk, but the grade was gradual pretty much all the way up. I pushed the pace pretty hard and reached the Crawford Path and the awesome ridge a bit after an hour. Soaking in sweat, I admired — as I have many times — incredible views of the Presidentials. Some things will never, ever get old. From that ridge, Mt. Washington and the peaks to its north look so impressive, so reverential. The 0.4 miles from the ridge up Eisenhower is no joke. A few times, I expected to see the large, fat summit cairn only to see more climbing ahead of me. But I finally made it in about 90 minutes and had the top all to myself. I wish I could have stayed there for awhile, but I had to get down and back to Sandwich for Vicky and Kristen’s last dinner. The sun’s rays were brilliantly basking the peaks to the west. I could see to the south and north for miles. Peaks, more peaks, and more peaks. What a view. After maybe 20 minutes — and foolishly eating an entire bag of Swedish fish — I headed down and finished the hike in 3 hours, 1 minute. I took Bear Notch Road (very smooth!) on the way home and got back around 7:45pm for Booty corn.
Solid day.
Day 11 — Rainy day
On Tuesday, it rained, rained, and rained some more! Precipitation has never kept me from being active, but I wasn’t in a hurry to do anything big, anyway. So, naturally, I took a nap on the futon of the porch. It was a great nap. In the afternoon, Caitlin’s college friends Tori and Hannah arrived (Hannah while I was napping) and took off for the Moultenborough store. I continued to nap. In the afternoon, I finally got up, dragged myself to the beach, shot some hoops, and came back to the Red House. Lazy day.
Day 12, final day — Welch & Dickey (4.4 miles)
On my final day in New Hampshire, I was joined by Caitlin, her friends and Sallie for the 4.4-mile loop hike up and over the open, rocky ledges of Welch (2,605 feet) and Dickey (2,734). The hike provides incredibly rewarding views despite not getting too high. It’s also very steep. When we reached the first ledge after about a mile, we heard and noticed a helicopter circling what appeared to be the summit of Welch. At first, we were intrigued, thinking a rescue might be taking place. Late in the hike, though, when we continued to observe helicopter activity, we came to more dull conclusion: military training.
So much for peace on a mountain.
Other than the ‘copters, the hike was great. We stopped several times on the multiple smooth rock slabs to sit, eat, read, and just enjoy the vast views. We had a great view, in particular, of the Tripyramids.
TOTAL HIKING: 9 days, 48.4 miles
8.15-16 — Hiking the Adirondacks
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