Driver8
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It had been too long, as I'd been too busy. Hadn't walked above 3000', much less 4000', since traversing Moosilauke with a friend in early July, and I needed a trip north, bad. The forecast was looking good Friday for Saturday, cloudy in the am, clearing on the afternoon, and Sunday was spoken for closer to home. Made a provisional plan to go up to the Whites, hoping to visit some new peak.
Forecast changed Saturday am - seems Mother Nature was gonna finish her summit-clearing homework late, and Sunday, which was impossible for me, was to be the fine day, with fog and clouds lingering until Saturday evening higher up. Argh. Let's try Camel's Hump. Have wanted to climb it since I first heard of it, and it's further north and west, so it should clear sooner than its colleagues across the Connecticut. Maybe we'll get some views. Left out 7:30 am Sat, got to the trailhead about 11:30 after a stop in Waterbury.
From parking at the Camel's Hump Road winter lot - the road was really rough right above it, so I chose to walk the extra 0.4 each way - I shoved off in short order. I had gotten the last spot in the cleared area left of the road; there were a lot of people out exploring the Hump this day. I made my way up - trail was easy for about half the 3.1 miles of the Monroe Trail-L.T. route I chose. Had thought about the Dean Trail route up, but it was wet and slick after the previous days' rains, and I didn't know how long the trip would take, etc., so chose the easier way up.
One of the highlights of the day, about half-way up, was a wet-weather waterfall coming off the very pretty cliff buttress the trail first skirts under, then slabs over and across after wading through and cross Camel's Hump Brook. The view of the falls from the trail was a bit obscured:
A few steps closer gave a clearer vantage:
The stretch traversed by the Monroe Trail was beautiful - the rocks were slick, and there was a lot of mud and standing and running water on this moist trail, but it was well worthwhile. The greens, especially of the moss, were rich and intense, and the leaves of the birches, maples and other deciduous trees, just starting to show fall in their color, glistened and shone as the sun burned through the clouds, promising views at the summit, which the many members of the morning crew groused that they had missed as we passed them.
It was not to be for the many of us climbing in the early afternoon, either, though, alas. At about 3500', as the forest transitioned to evergreens, the fog became perceptible. Burn, sun, burn! But it seemed pretty clear, pardon the expression, that the fog would persist for our visit to the top. Well, it was so pretty climbing up, that that and the pleasure of the trip were plenty. It was great to be out visiting this beauty and stretching my legs, setting aside for the day the stress and strain of a heavy workload at home.
Not long after the Long Trail junction with Monroe and Burrows, the climb up the cone's rocky spine stiffened, with the slickness a constant:
Though my right leg started to complain in the last 0.3, I was able to make it to the top, happy to say:
It was cold and windy, so I stayed only about 20 minutes, and though the sun tried to punch through for a very brief moment, it didn't succeed. A lot of people were at the summit, and I especially enjoyed visiting with Kevin, the GMC summit caretaker on duty and a 2010 A.T. thru who also has done the complete Long Trail. Very nice guy - he makes sure people don't trample the alpine vegetation of the summit area.
There were some pretty local views of the summit, maybe 0.2 miles, so that was neat, and I soaked them in until my hands got too cold - brought the jacket, which I donned after the summit pose, but not cold-weather gloves. Will remember to bring those going forward this fall for higher-up visits. Took a few snaps of the summit landscape and made my way back down whence I came. I opted for the "devil I knew", the not-too-difficult route I'd ascended, rather than another route, as I heard the available options were all slicker and more treacherous.
The lunch break waited until a nice spot in the lee of the mountain at about 3500' in what I call the "moss zone" - got quite a bit warmer once out of the cold NW wind and with the descent. The trail was noticeably drier, too, than it had been, as the sun had worked its magic on the slopes below the highest elevations. That was welcome through the rockiest parts, many of which remained pretty slick and tricky - nothing a little time and care couldn't handle, and, mercifully, not the relentless demand made on the hiker by so much of the Whites. Below the rockfall stretch under the beautiful cliff buttress, the site of the pretty waterfall, it was easy going for the last mile and a half, plus the roadwalk.
All in all a lovely introduction to the Hump, which calls for multiple visits. Speaking of which, I did finally get some views of the big beast, and of its friend to the north, Mt. Mansfield, as my car climbed south and east on I-89. Camel's Hump, at about 6:45, was finally emerging from the fog, as were most other summits, with wisps of it lingering still and yet on parts of Mansfield's upper reaches. I wanted to pull off and take pics, but the shoulder was narrow and the traffic pretty busy, so I thought better of it. I considered the mountains as having, by peeking out, thanked me for the visit and welcomed me to come back soon. They and I agree.
Forecast changed Saturday am - seems Mother Nature was gonna finish her summit-clearing homework late, and Sunday, which was impossible for me, was to be the fine day, with fog and clouds lingering until Saturday evening higher up. Argh. Let's try Camel's Hump. Have wanted to climb it since I first heard of it, and it's further north and west, so it should clear sooner than its colleagues across the Connecticut. Maybe we'll get some views. Left out 7:30 am Sat, got to the trailhead about 11:30 after a stop in Waterbury.
From parking at the Camel's Hump Road winter lot - the road was really rough right above it, so I chose to walk the extra 0.4 each way - I shoved off in short order. I had gotten the last spot in the cleared area left of the road; there were a lot of people out exploring the Hump this day. I made my way up - trail was easy for about half the 3.1 miles of the Monroe Trail-L.T. route I chose. Had thought about the Dean Trail route up, but it was wet and slick after the previous days' rains, and I didn't know how long the trip would take, etc., so chose the easier way up.
One of the highlights of the day, about half-way up, was a wet-weather waterfall coming off the very pretty cliff buttress the trail first skirts under, then slabs over and across after wading through and cross Camel's Hump Brook. The view of the falls from the trail was a bit obscured:
A few steps closer gave a clearer vantage:
The stretch traversed by the Monroe Trail was beautiful - the rocks were slick, and there was a lot of mud and standing and running water on this moist trail, but it was well worthwhile. The greens, especially of the moss, were rich and intense, and the leaves of the birches, maples and other deciduous trees, just starting to show fall in their color, glistened and shone as the sun burned through the clouds, promising views at the summit, which the many members of the morning crew groused that they had missed as we passed them.
It was not to be for the many of us climbing in the early afternoon, either, though, alas. At about 3500', as the forest transitioned to evergreens, the fog became perceptible. Burn, sun, burn! But it seemed pretty clear, pardon the expression, that the fog would persist for our visit to the top. Well, it was so pretty climbing up, that that and the pleasure of the trip were plenty. It was great to be out visiting this beauty and stretching my legs, setting aside for the day the stress and strain of a heavy workload at home.
Not long after the Long Trail junction with Monroe and Burrows, the climb up the cone's rocky spine stiffened, with the slickness a constant:
Though my right leg started to complain in the last 0.3, I was able to make it to the top, happy to say:
It was cold and windy, so I stayed only about 20 minutes, and though the sun tried to punch through for a very brief moment, it didn't succeed. A lot of people were at the summit, and I especially enjoyed visiting with Kevin, the GMC summit caretaker on duty and a 2010 A.T. thru who also has done the complete Long Trail. Very nice guy - he makes sure people don't trample the alpine vegetation of the summit area.
There were some pretty local views of the summit, maybe 0.2 miles, so that was neat, and I soaked them in until my hands got too cold - brought the jacket, which I donned after the summit pose, but not cold-weather gloves. Will remember to bring those going forward this fall for higher-up visits. Took a few snaps of the summit landscape and made my way back down whence I came. I opted for the "devil I knew", the not-too-difficult route I'd ascended, rather than another route, as I heard the available options were all slicker and more treacherous.
The lunch break waited until a nice spot in the lee of the mountain at about 3500' in what I call the "moss zone" - got quite a bit warmer once out of the cold NW wind and with the descent. The trail was noticeably drier, too, than it had been, as the sun had worked its magic on the slopes below the highest elevations. That was welcome through the rockiest parts, many of which remained pretty slick and tricky - nothing a little time and care couldn't handle, and, mercifully, not the relentless demand made on the hiker by so much of the Whites. Below the rockfall stretch under the beautiful cliff buttress, the site of the pretty waterfall, it was easy going for the last mile and a half, plus the roadwalk.
All in all a lovely introduction to the Hump, which calls for multiple visits. Speaking of which, I did finally get some views of the big beast, and of its friend to the north, Mt. Mansfield, as my car climbed south and east on I-89. Camel's Hump, at about 6:45, was finally emerging from the fog, as were most other summits, with wisps of it lingering still and yet on parts of Mansfield's upper reaches. I wanted to pull off and take pics, but the shoulder was narrow and the traffic pretty busy, so I thought better of it. I considered the mountains as having, by peeking out, thanked me for the visit and welcomed me to come back soon. They and I agree.
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