Lawn Sale
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The weather forecast called for occasional afternoon snows with winds in the 50-60 mph range, so on Thursday night the call was made to abort the Prezzie traverse scheduled for Saturday. I had plenty of options for hikes and climbs with other people, but I wanted to hike something solo, so I turned them all down. On my way out I decided to hit Carter Dome and the Wildcats, partially spurred on by McRat’s trip report from Thursday.
As I drove past 19 Mile Brook on my way to Pinkham Notch, I was surprised to see the parking lot devoid of any cars. I registered, set my altimeter, changed, and headed back down. This time there were 2 cars there filled with people staying the night, and they said the hut was booked for the evening. I geared up and was on the trail at 9:20, trailbreaking through the fresh power from Friday’s storm. I made a decision at the trailhead to wear the Koflach Degree’s and take my 30” Viper Crampon equipped White Mountain snowshoes, which I was now regretting as it was a heavy combination. But, with the fresh snow I thought I’d need the traction and floatation. As the temperature was 33°, I soon became hot and started shedding layers, honestly debating stripping down to shorts. About 2 miles in I developed a pulled inner thigh muscle, probably from all the weight on my feet, combined with the snow sticking to my boots and gaiters. The air was light and quiet, and I contemplated not pushing myself and just going to the hut. I arrived at the hut at noon to find no one about, so I refilled my nalgene and decided to just see how bad the trail up Carter Dome was. I was behind schedule, but had taken it a little easy. I was hoping to match McRat’s time, and wasn’t worried as I had a secret weapon with me to even the odds and improve time on the way down.
I felt a little better after the ibuprofen and one of my homemade granola bars (from round 2, I’m experimenting with them until I get the mix right), so that deadened the pain and gave me a great boost of energy. The trail from here got STEEP, and I’m not exaggerating. I wondered who in their right mind would make such a trail, and with 3’ of fresh snow on it, the going was almost impossible. My snowshoes were sliding backwards, despite the large crampons, and the poles were sinking completely to the hilt. Snowshoes were essential as the snow was so deep crampons or barebooting would have been useless. With each pitch (the term we use in climbing, but this equated to the distance I could see to the next corner), I hoped for some reprieve, but found nothing but more insanity. I contemplated turning around, but knew I was only a mile from the summit, and didn’t want to give up being so close. I downed a Gu and kept going, and going, and going, wanting to meet up with the trail creator just so I could push them down their trail. Nothing would have given me more pleasure than to see them crumpled at the bottom encased in the avalanche that would have swept them to an early grave.
The top was finally in sight, and I reached it with delight and the fanfare of my heart blasting into my eardrums. I really wished I’d worn my heart rate monitor, I’ll bet I was maxing it out. From here the trail looked harmless enough, except for the 36” of new snow, which caused my snowshoes to sink in 12" to 18” at times, making me now wish I'd brought the 36" snowshoes. Needless to say, it was very laborious, and was becoming moreso as it was snowing heavily now, so I couldn’t see more than 30 feet at a time. I slogged on, hoping humans would find my body before McRat’s bears got to it, and that gave me the strength I needed. I finally hit the summit at 2:45, a full 2.5 hours after I’d left the hut, which was a mere 1.2 miles away. Never in my life have I ever hiked so slowly, even on the steepest terrain in the worst conditions, so I was happy I’d made a new personal record. I snapped a few pics and was just skimming down the mountain to get off it as quickly as possible. The going was easier since gravity was on my side and the trail was now broken out.
On the way back down I met up with 2 other people that had just crested the cliff. They decided to turn around, and I was glad there would be someone to report to my parents I wasn’t abducted my little green men when my body went missing. To say we glissaded down to the hut is to equate a meteorite as ‘gliding’ to earth. We weren’t in control, and had to use our snowshoes to rudder ourselves into trees to stop from going off trail. We made the final descent to the hut in under 5 minutes, that much is certain, and all of us survived. I went back to the hut to refill my Nalgene rest for a minute, and then headed out.
On the way down I was baked, my thigh was screaming, and I longed for getting to the car where I could relax on the 150 mile ride home. Reaching the junction, I decided now was the time to unleash my secret weapon to make up some time. I would have earlier, but my legs were still shaking, and I didn't want to chance it with the shape I was in. I took off the snowshoes and strapped on a set of 110cm kids XC skis I’d outfitted with some anyboot XC bindings, and hit the trail in grand fashion. I think I made the car in 15 minutes, arriving just at the 8-hour mark.
This is without a doubt the hardest hike I have done, in terms of energy expended. This beats out Jefferson at –50° wind chill, Lafayette with an ice storm and 65 mph winds, and even the 18-hour winter excursions I’ve been on. I run, bike, ice climb, and hike, so I’m in marginally decent shape, but this one almost got the best of me. My hat is certainly off to Carter Dome, it’s nice to be humbled once and while to let you know who’s in charge up there.
I only took a few pics, but they are here.
As I drove past 19 Mile Brook on my way to Pinkham Notch, I was surprised to see the parking lot devoid of any cars. I registered, set my altimeter, changed, and headed back down. This time there were 2 cars there filled with people staying the night, and they said the hut was booked for the evening. I geared up and was on the trail at 9:20, trailbreaking through the fresh power from Friday’s storm. I made a decision at the trailhead to wear the Koflach Degree’s and take my 30” Viper Crampon equipped White Mountain snowshoes, which I was now regretting as it was a heavy combination. But, with the fresh snow I thought I’d need the traction and floatation. As the temperature was 33°, I soon became hot and started shedding layers, honestly debating stripping down to shorts. About 2 miles in I developed a pulled inner thigh muscle, probably from all the weight on my feet, combined with the snow sticking to my boots and gaiters. The air was light and quiet, and I contemplated not pushing myself and just going to the hut. I arrived at the hut at noon to find no one about, so I refilled my nalgene and decided to just see how bad the trail up Carter Dome was. I was behind schedule, but had taken it a little easy. I was hoping to match McRat’s time, and wasn’t worried as I had a secret weapon with me to even the odds and improve time on the way down.
I felt a little better after the ibuprofen and one of my homemade granola bars (from round 2, I’m experimenting with them until I get the mix right), so that deadened the pain and gave me a great boost of energy. The trail from here got STEEP, and I’m not exaggerating. I wondered who in their right mind would make such a trail, and with 3’ of fresh snow on it, the going was almost impossible. My snowshoes were sliding backwards, despite the large crampons, and the poles were sinking completely to the hilt. Snowshoes were essential as the snow was so deep crampons or barebooting would have been useless. With each pitch (the term we use in climbing, but this equated to the distance I could see to the next corner), I hoped for some reprieve, but found nothing but more insanity. I contemplated turning around, but knew I was only a mile from the summit, and didn’t want to give up being so close. I downed a Gu and kept going, and going, and going, wanting to meet up with the trail creator just so I could push them down their trail. Nothing would have given me more pleasure than to see them crumpled at the bottom encased in the avalanche that would have swept them to an early grave.
The top was finally in sight, and I reached it with delight and the fanfare of my heart blasting into my eardrums. I really wished I’d worn my heart rate monitor, I’ll bet I was maxing it out. From here the trail looked harmless enough, except for the 36” of new snow, which caused my snowshoes to sink in 12" to 18” at times, making me now wish I'd brought the 36" snowshoes. Needless to say, it was very laborious, and was becoming moreso as it was snowing heavily now, so I couldn’t see more than 30 feet at a time. I slogged on, hoping humans would find my body before McRat’s bears got to it, and that gave me the strength I needed. I finally hit the summit at 2:45, a full 2.5 hours after I’d left the hut, which was a mere 1.2 miles away. Never in my life have I ever hiked so slowly, even on the steepest terrain in the worst conditions, so I was happy I’d made a new personal record. I snapped a few pics and was just skimming down the mountain to get off it as quickly as possible. The going was easier since gravity was on my side and the trail was now broken out.
On the way back down I met up with 2 other people that had just crested the cliff. They decided to turn around, and I was glad there would be someone to report to my parents I wasn’t abducted my little green men when my body went missing. To say we glissaded down to the hut is to equate a meteorite as ‘gliding’ to earth. We weren’t in control, and had to use our snowshoes to rudder ourselves into trees to stop from going off trail. We made the final descent to the hut in under 5 minutes, that much is certain, and all of us survived. I went back to the hut to refill my Nalgene rest for a minute, and then headed out.
On the way down I was baked, my thigh was screaming, and I longed for getting to the car where I could relax on the 150 mile ride home. Reaching the junction, I decided now was the time to unleash my secret weapon to make up some time. I would have earlier, but my legs were still shaking, and I didn't want to chance it with the shape I was in. I took off the snowshoes and strapped on a set of 110cm kids XC skis I’d outfitted with some anyboot XC bindings, and hit the trail in grand fashion. I think I made the car in 15 minutes, arriving just at the 8-hour mark.
This is without a doubt the hardest hike I have done, in terms of energy expended. This beats out Jefferson at –50° wind chill, Lafayette with an ice storm and 65 mph winds, and even the 18-hour winter excursions I’ve been on. I run, bike, ice climb, and hike, so I’m in marginally decent shape, but this one almost got the best of me. My hat is certainly off to Carter Dome, it’s nice to be humbled once and while to let you know who’s in charge up there.
I only took a few pics, but they are here.
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