LRiz
New member
The weather forecast was a bit questionable. My motivation - ever so slightly lacking. However, after waffling back and forth over whether or not I actually wanted to hike, I somehow managed to drag myself out of bed at 9:30am... and by 10:00am I was en route to the Hancocks. A perfect choice for a less than perfect day, I thought to myself.
Miraculously, the drive north went by without a single Red Bull consumption. I'd be doing this hike sans caffeine - a terrifying thought.
Arriving at the Hancock Notch trailhead, I was met with rather lovely views - much to my surprise, given that I was forced to contend with a freak snowstorm just below Lincoln.
Knowing that I'd be hiking solo, it was comforting to see that there were several other cars parked in the lot. After a few minutes of dawdling, I took a picture of the trailhead sign to record my start time (for this would be a timed hike), and was soon on my way. The trail was a hard-packed snowy sidewalk, and I was able to float across the surface with ease on my microspikes. Of course, about 10 or so minutes into my hike the blue sky was violently replaced by a thick shroud of evil clouds. It quickly became cold, though since I was trucking along at a good clip I didn't find it necessary to add a layer. Much to my delight, each of the water crossings passed by without incident. However, the flattish, boring nature of the trail soon became tiresome. Reaching the Hancock Loop trail junction, I was more than ready for the climbing to begin. Peeking in and out of the trees, the vivid white scar of the Arrow Slide served as a reminder that my target was near...
Having only ever done the loop clockwise (and not wanting to stray outside of my comfort level on this oh-so-tempermental day), I decided to ascend the North Peak. Although I did have crampons in my pack, I didn't think it necessary to make a gear change quite yet, and remained in microspikes for the initial climb. As it turned out, those little micros worked beautifully, and in no time at all I was on the summit of North Hancock. The wind had picked up considerably by this point, and I was quite snowy and wet from banging into various tree branches. A badass, perhaps, but not a happy puppy. What a breathtaking, awe-inspiring summit it was...
Although it was tough to pull myself away from the sheer beauty of my cold, cloudy surroundings, after a focused effort I was back on the Hancock Loop trail. Fearful of being whacked constantly in the face by nasty low-hanging branches, I kept my body low and my pack straps tight to avoid such occurrances. With every step I took, the clouds slowly started to dissipate. As the blue sky broke free, the colors around me became delightfully bright and contrasted.
Futhermore, having always done this hike in poor conditions, I was pleased to find that there are in fact views to be had.
...and more to the other side!
It certainly was a day of surprises. As I approached South Hancock, upon veering ever so slightly off the trail I postholed up to my waist, and even had to navigate some (rather feeble) freshly drifted powder.
After a final, short little climb, I was on the summit of South Hancock - still looking rather dismal, albeit slightly cheered (mentally) by the improving conditions.
Now, for the descent. Microspikes should be more than sufficient, I told myself - I mean seriously, I'd gotten up the North Peak without even the smallest of slips. Leaving my ice axe strapped to my pack, I rather confidently started making my way down the trail. Initially, things seemed just fine... that is, until I fell.
Instantly, I started sliding down the trail, my momentum increasing with frightening rapidity. Reaching to my right, I attempted to grab hold of a tree. No luck. I tried again, my second effort even feebler because I'd gained such a substantial amount of speed. At that moment, the reality of my situation really started to kick in. I'm out of control, sliding down a steep trail, alone on a mountain that's not exactly the most popular of peaks. How am I going to stop? What will I do if I break my leg, or hit my head? What the heck is going on? Amazingly, my third attempt at tree-grabbing was a success. The forcefulness of the stop was so sudden that it caused my body to bend awkardly around the trunk. Stunned and upset, I sat there bewildered in the snow for a good five minutes or so. The entire incident - from fall to tree-induced arrest - happened so suddenly that I couldn't quite wrap my mind around what had just happened.
Fortunately, I'd left the steep part of the trail behind me, and for the remained of the climb down I exercised extreme caution by staying to the side of the trail and utilizing tree branches for balance. Upon reaching the flats, I was certainly ready for the speedy hike out. Time flew by quickly. Hitting the final trail junction, I was feeling strong and started to jog. Passing "almost out" rock, I knew I was so close...
...and 3 hours and 56 minutes later, I was done.
It had been an oddly eventful hike. A few lessons learned, two peaks attained, and all-in-all an excellent day to be out in the Whites. To think I could have written so much about the Hancocks!
I did take a few more pictures during the hike, though mostly of trail signs (and whilst striking strange poses), so they most likely are not of interest.
Sincerely,
Miss LRiz
Miraculously, the drive north went by without a single Red Bull consumption. I'd be doing this hike sans caffeine - a terrifying thought.
Arriving at the Hancock Notch trailhead, I was met with rather lovely views - much to my surprise, given that I was forced to contend with a freak snowstorm just below Lincoln.
Knowing that I'd be hiking solo, it was comforting to see that there were several other cars parked in the lot. After a few minutes of dawdling, I took a picture of the trailhead sign to record my start time (for this would be a timed hike), and was soon on my way. The trail was a hard-packed snowy sidewalk, and I was able to float across the surface with ease on my microspikes. Of course, about 10 or so minutes into my hike the blue sky was violently replaced by a thick shroud of evil clouds. It quickly became cold, though since I was trucking along at a good clip I didn't find it necessary to add a layer. Much to my delight, each of the water crossings passed by without incident. However, the flattish, boring nature of the trail soon became tiresome. Reaching the Hancock Loop trail junction, I was more than ready for the climbing to begin. Peeking in and out of the trees, the vivid white scar of the Arrow Slide served as a reminder that my target was near...
Having only ever done the loop clockwise (and not wanting to stray outside of my comfort level on this oh-so-tempermental day), I decided to ascend the North Peak. Although I did have crampons in my pack, I didn't think it necessary to make a gear change quite yet, and remained in microspikes for the initial climb. As it turned out, those little micros worked beautifully, and in no time at all I was on the summit of North Hancock. The wind had picked up considerably by this point, and I was quite snowy and wet from banging into various tree branches. A badass, perhaps, but not a happy puppy. What a breathtaking, awe-inspiring summit it was...
Although it was tough to pull myself away from the sheer beauty of my cold, cloudy surroundings, after a focused effort I was back on the Hancock Loop trail. Fearful of being whacked constantly in the face by nasty low-hanging branches, I kept my body low and my pack straps tight to avoid such occurrances. With every step I took, the clouds slowly started to dissipate. As the blue sky broke free, the colors around me became delightfully bright and contrasted.
Futhermore, having always done this hike in poor conditions, I was pleased to find that there are in fact views to be had.
...and more to the other side!
It certainly was a day of surprises. As I approached South Hancock, upon veering ever so slightly off the trail I postholed up to my waist, and even had to navigate some (rather feeble) freshly drifted powder.
After a final, short little climb, I was on the summit of South Hancock - still looking rather dismal, albeit slightly cheered (mentally) by the improving conditions.
Now, for the descent. Microspikes should be more than sufficient, I told myself - I mean seriously, I'd gotten up the North Peak without even the smallest of slips. Leaving my ice axe strapped to my pack, I rather confidently started making my way down the trail. Initially, things seemed just fine... that is, until I fell.
Instantly, I started sliding down the trail, my momentum increasing with frightening rapidity. Reaching to my right, I attempted to grab hold of a tree. No luck. I tried again, my second effort even feebler because I'd gained such a substantial amount of speed. At that moment, the reality of my situation really started to kick in. I'm out of control, sliding down a steep trail, alone on a mountain that's not exactly the most popular of peaks. How am I going to stop? What will I do if I break my leg, or hit my head? What the heck is going on? Amazingly, my third attempt at tree-grabbing was a success. The forcefulness of the stop was so sudden that it caused my body to bend awkardly around the trunk. Stunned and upset, I sat there bewildered in the snow for a good five minutes or so. The entire incident - from fall to tree-induced arrest - happened so suddenly that I couldn't quite wrap my mind around what had just happened.
Fortunately, I'd left the steep part of the trail behind me, and for the remained of the climb down I exercised extreme caution by staying to the side of the trail and utilizing tree branches for balance. Upon reaching the flats, I was certainly ready for the speedy hike out. Time flew by quickly. Hitting the final trail junction, I was feeling strong and started to jog. Passing "almost out" rock, I knew I was so close...
...and 3 hours and 56 minutes later, I was done.
It had been an oddly eventful hike. A few lessons learned, two peaks attained, and all-in-all an excellent day to be out in the Whites. To think I could have written so much about the Hancocks!
I did take a few more pictures during the hike, though mostly of trail signs (and whilst striking strange poses), so they most likely are not of interest.
Sincerely,
Miss LRiz
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Glad your safe..
