McRat
New member
Hmmmm... I just got back from a weeks vacation, and had set aside Tuesday through Thursday to get in some hiking and peakbagging.
The plan was simple - Up to Madison Hut, and bag 'em all the way to Crawford Notch, spending a night at Madison/Lake of the Clouds huts.
Things went wrong. But, like every peak, it was still an adventure.
TUESDAY, July 26th
In an effort to save on gas, we brought only one car up. This will not be happening again for reasons that should be clear later. Part of which was the reaction of she-who-must-be-obeyed in discovering that all trailheads do not begin in Franconia Notch. With each mile past there, the good cheer and support of the hike seemed to diminish. "I had no idea that the WMNF was so BIG." By the time we had spotted Den's (McCoon) Jeep by Crawford Notch she needed to restate this matter.
You would think the giant maps hanging on my wall and all my trail plans and ranting about the hills would have made this one obvious... but hey... she otherwise puts up with my obsession pretty well.
We made it to the Appalachia trailhead around 11:00am, said goodbye, and McCoon and I were on our way up the pleasant riverside path with plans for three uninterrupted days of hiking, hanging out, and hut living. We were, for lack of a better term - STOKED.
Along the Valley Way, we realized why so many people buy the RMC maps - There is a very elaborate and well maintained network of trails that are not even on the smaller scale AMC maps.
We took our time in the heat and haze and made sure to drink our water, although by the time we made it to the tentsite along the Valley Way, the grade had increased and we began to resent the weight of the 4 liters of water. The logic of transferring the center of gravity inward for future expulsion and weight reduction became a topic of conversation and we remained well hydrated and lighter as the day progressed.
We finally reached the hut around 3:15 and went in to claim a bunk and some lemonade. This would be my first stay at a hut, and though I balked at the price initially - we basked in the convenience and friendly company of other hikers and croo. Even though the bugs had travelled the whole way and were mostly polite enough to swarm rather than bite - they did not book reservations and were not allowed to stay in the hut.
We wandered off to Star Lake and looked out at Adams, Jefferson and Washington, the next days objectives. The weather reports had indicated a possibility of thunderstorms, though we remained optimistic, if not downright drunk on the scenery.
We watched the cars crawl up the auto road, the smoke of the cog, the little black birds with the B&W striped tails (anyone have a guess at what these finch-sized birds are), the little alpine flowers, the strangely incongruous giant quartz protrusion located between Madison and the Star Lake (I'm sure this thing must have been given a name by someone), the rocks, lichens and krumholz - this was truly new territory for us and we were loving it.
I finished a pipe and headed back to the hut in time for dinner. Fresh baked bread, a big bowl of soup, some bean salad and lasagna. With no prep time for us. This hut scene really appeals to my sense of laziness and hedonism - and I admit mixed feelings on that. The food was pretty good, and all the more impressive after seeing the ingredients being carried up on packboard earlier.
The stately Garbriella, the hut naturalist, announced the night's activities and the weather report. There were some groans as the likelyhood of stormy weather had been increased from earlier. No groans from us. Dinner was over, we had chocolate covered gingerbread in hand, the sun was setting, Madison was calling and we had a pint or Irish to celebrate Day One. We hit the Osgood trail light and fast.
While the haze cut into the sunset a bit, here two desk jockeys celebrated their first mile-high peak in 25mph winds, feeling that small yet rich taste of victory which I suspect drives a lot of us on. It was truly awesome in the original sense of the word.
As we headed back to the hut, we discussed the weather and hoped the ice-cream sandwich runs had earned us enough karma for the weather to pass.
After lights-out at the hut, I still had the image of the Madison gulf in my head. I went to sleep with the most idiotic pondering I've had in a while - "Boy... those topo map contours don't do the ridges justice." It's ok to laugh at me for that. I did just before I drifted off to sleep.
The plan was simple - Up to Madison Hut, and bag 'em all the way to Crawford Notch, spending a night at Madison/Lake of the Clouds huts.
Things went wrong. But, like every peak, it was still an adventure.
TUESDAY, July 26th
In an effort to save on gas, we brought only one car up. This will not be happening again for reasons that should be clear later. Part of which was the reaction of she-who-must-be-obeyed in discovering that all trailheads do not begin in Franconia Notch. With each mile past there, the good cheer and support of the hike seemed to diminish. "I had no idea that the WMNF was so BIG." By the time we had spotted Den's (McCoon) Jeep by Crawford Notch she needed to restate this matter.
You would think the giant maps hanging on my wall and all my trail plans and ranting about the hills would have made this one obvious... but hey... she otherwise puts up with my obsession pretty well.
We made it to the Appalachia trailhead around 11:00am, said goodbye, and McCoon and I were on our way up the pleasant riverside path with plans for three uninterrupted days of hiking, hanging out, and hut living. We were, for lack of a better term - STOKED.
Along the Valley Way, we realized why so many people buy the RMC maps - There is a very elaborate and well maintained network of trails that are not even on the smaller scale AMC maps.
We took our time in the heat and haze and made sure to drink our water, although by the time we made it to the tentsite along the Valley Way, the grade had increased and we began to resent the weight of the 4 liters of water. The logic of transferring the center of gravity inward for future expulsion and weight reduction became a topic of conversation and we remained well hydrated and lighter as the day progressed.
We finally reached the hut around 3:15 and went in to claim a bunk and some lemonade. This would be my first stay at a hut, and though I balked at the price initially - we basked in the convenience and friendly company of other hikers and croo. Even though the bugs had travelled the whole way and were mostly polite enough to swarm rather than bite - they did not book reservations and were not allowed to stay in the hut.
We wandered off to Star Lake and looked out at Adams, Jefferson and Washington, the next days objectives. The weather reports had indicated a possibility of thunderstorms, though we remained optimistic, if not downright drunk on the scenery.
We watched the cars crawl up the auto road, the smoke of the cog, the little black birds with the B&W striped tails (anyone have a guess at what these finch-sized birds are), the little alpine flowers, the strangely incongruous giant quartz protrusion located between Madison and the Star Lake (I'm sure this thing must have been given a name by someone), the rocks, lichens and krumholz - this was truly new territory for us and we were loving it.
I finished a pipe and headed back to the hut in time for dinner. Fresh baked bread, a big bowl of soup, some bean salad and lasagna. With no prep time for us. This hut scene really appeals to my sense of laziness and hedonism - and I admit mixed feelings on that. The food was pretty good, and all the more impressive after seeing the ingredients being carried up on packboard earlier.
The stately Garbriella, the hut naturalist, announced the night's activities and the weather report. There were some groans as the likelyhood of stormy weather had been increased from earlier. No groans from us. Dinner was over, we had chocolate covered gingerbread in hand, the sun was setting, Madison was calling and we had a pint or Irish to celebrate Day One. We hit the Osgood trail light and fast.
While the haze cut into the sunset a bit, here two desk jockeys celebrated their first mile-high peak in 25mph winds, feeling that small yet rich taste of victory which I suspect drives a lot of us on. It was truly awesome in the original sense of the word.
As we headed back to the hut, we discussed the weather and hoped the ice-cream sandwich runs had earned us enough karma for the weather to pass.
After lights-out at the hut, I still had the image of the Madison gulf in my head. I went to sleep with the most idiotic pondering I've had in a while - "Boy... those topo map contours don't do the ridges justice." It's ok to laugh at me for that. I did just before I drifted off to sleep.
