Pamola
New member
I had long been stuck on two 4k's left, North Brother and Zealand, so this trip was a long time coming. I had years of being fanatical about peakbagging, hitting two in a weekend and then getting so stir crazy during the week that I would take off during the week and do another. I had years of burnout and totally forgot about the list, revisiting all the amazing mountains that led me to this habit in the first place.
This summer and fall I hit the crest of that sine curve again, and decided it was time to finish up. After a few day trip in Baxter that netted N. Brother along with many more wonderful memories of Katahdin, I started planning how I would end it all on Zealand. With my Dad's help, I filled in all the old dates on my list, which basically meant him rummaging through all of my mom's old calendars for Carter and Bonds trip dates, and me waiting. He seemed more into it than I, and demanded my complete list well before this past Sunday. I was touched by how proud he was, while also being more than a bit curious about what he had up his sleeve...
We all meet at the trailhead on Zealand road bright and early on a promisingly beautiful day. Two new hiking buddies and I had traveled from Vermont through some thick low clouds, only to see them burn off entirely by the time we went through Bethlehem. The clarity of the day was a good omen, and aside from nearly cleaning out an entire family of turkeys in Twin Mountain, it couldn't have been a better start to the day. We met up with Sam, a long time hiking companion through college who now lives in North Conway, and my dad, my longest and oldest hiking companion of all.
We started up toward Zleand hut through the filtered morning sun, cruising through the birches and brilliantly crimson maples that this season offers, catching views of Zealcliff and the notch that blew me away. We arrived at the hut around 10:30, and after a few photos, comparing my tired old LL Bean crestas with the pairs of a group from freeport, and Sam reaquianting with the hutmaster there (went to high school with her. never ceases to be a small world), we headed up Twinway toward Zealcliff. Needless to say, the view was incredible. The fiery stands of hardwoods combined with the magnificence of Carrigain, Vose, and Lowell will be burned into my mind for a lifetime.
We ambled across the ridge toward the summit, admiring the old growth and impressive erratic boulders, and when we reached the summit spur I took a deep breath of anticipation and sadness, and headed up. 50 feet from the summit, I heard a dog bark and I audibly cursed to myself. We wouldn't be alone. Then the dog came into view. I knew that fat lab. It's mine! Then my mom stepped into view. She hadn't stepped foot on a trail in years, battling the death of my brother and meniscus surgery. I had lamented not two days earlier that she was missing some things that made her happy in earlier times. Needless to say, I was instantly more proud of her than I was of myself.
Then the revelry began! Out came the stout and long trail, the ambiance and conversation helped by an overactive black lab. A Northbounder dropped by with the handle ziploc, who was more than grateful for the few sips of Samuel Smith's oatmeal stout. I found out why my dad was do adamant that I get him the completed list. He pulled a tshirt out of his pack with the 4k's logo on the front, and the entire list on the back, complete with dates and my companions. He's not exactly a crafty guy, so i was incredibly impressed and even more flattered. After a visit from a grey jay (brand-spanking new avatar), during which my dog got a hold of my sandwich, we headed back down, a little weighed down with that dark liquid bread. At Zealcliff we stumbled upon Robert Kozlow (AMC guide photographer) posing some college kids for possibly what may become the next guidebook cover.
It was a leisurely stroll back down to the trailhead, and once we were there met a group from all over NE who met once a year to spread the ashes of a former Brown colleague in the wilderness. Once of the most touching and thoroughly legitimate backpacking trips I have ever heard. The six of us sat in the parking lot, winding down with another ale and listening to our fat lab snore on the rocks of the lot, and reflecting on what had been in all ways a consummate day. I couldn't have planned a better way to reach this goal.
I slept very peacefully last night.
To all who understand,
Kyle
This summer and fall I hit the crest of that sine curve again, and decided it was time to finish up. After a few day trip in Baxter that netted N. Brother along with many more wonderful memories of Katahdin, I started planning how I would end it all on Zealand. With my Dad's help, I filled in all the old dates on my list, which basically meant him rummaging through all of my mom's old calendars for Carter and Bonds trip dates, and me waiting. He seemed more into it than I, and demanded my complete list well before this past Sunday. I was touched by how proud he was, while also being more than a bit curious about what he had up his sleeve...
We all meet at the trailhead on Zealand road bright and early on a promisingly beautiful day. Two new hiking buddies and I had traveled from Vermont through some thick low clouds, only to see them burn off entirely by the time we went through Bethlehem. The clarity of the day was a good omen, and aside from nearly cleaning out an entire family of turkeys in Twin Mountain, it couldn't have been a better start to the day. We met up with Sam, a long time hiking companion through college who now lives in North Conway, and my dad, my longest and oldest hiking companion of all.
We started up toward Zleand hut through the filtered morning sun, cruising through the birches and brilliantly crimson maples that this season offers, catching views of Zealcliff and the notch that blew me away. We arrived at the hut around 10:30, and after a few photos, comparing my tired old LL Bean crestas with the pairs of a group from freeport, and Sam reaquianting with the hutmaster there (went to high school with her. never ceases to be a small world), we headed up Twinway toward Zealcliff. Needless to say, the view was incredible. The fiery stands of hardwoods combined with the magnificence of Carrigain, Vose, and Lowell will be burned into my mind for a lifetime.
We ambled across the ridge toward the summit, admiring the old growth and impressive erratic boulders, and when we reached the summit spur I took a deep breath of anticipation and sadness, and headed up. 50 feet from the summit, I heard a dog bark and I audibly cursed to myself. We wouldn't be alone. Then the dog came into view. I knew that fat lab. It's mine! Then my mom stepped into view. She hadn't stepped foot on a trail in years, battling the death of my brother and meniscus surgery. I had lamented not two days earlier that she was missing some things that made her happy in earlier times. Needless to say, I was instantly more proud of her than I was of myself.
Then the revelry began! Out came the stout and long trail, the ambiance and conversation helped by an overactive black lab. A Northbounder dropped by with the handle ziploc, who was more than grateful for the few sips of Samuel Smith's oatmeal stout. I found out why my dad was do adamant that I get him the completed list. He pulled a tshirt out of his pack with the 4k's logo on the front, and the entire list on the back, complete with dates and my companions. He's not exactly a crafty guy, so i was incredibly impressed and even more flattered. After a visit from a grey jay (brand-spanking new avatar), during which my dog got a hold of my sandwich, we headed back down, a little weighed down with that dark liquid bread. At Zealcliff we stumbled upon Robert Kozlow (AMC guide photographer) posing some college kids for possibly what may become the next guidebook cover.
It was a leisurely stroll back down to the trailhead, and once we were there met a group from all over NE who met once a year to spread the ashes of a former Brown colleague in the wilderness. Once of the most touching and thoroughly legitimate backpacking trips I have ever heard. The six of us sat in the parking lot, winding down with another ale and listening to our fat lab snore on the rocks of the lot, and reflecting on what had been in all ways a consummate day. I couldn't have planned a better way to reach this goal.
I slept very peacefully last night.
To all who understand,
Kyle
