MrAmeche
New member
Excuse me if my poetic attempts sound corny, but let me preface this report by stating that it isn't often that one experiences a hike like yesterday, with all the elements perfectly coalescing into the best kind of outdoor experience that I enjoy the most: colder temperatures, crisp air, a little bit of snow on the ground, and a late autumn sun that looms low on the horizon, threatening to send the mountains into darkness at any moment. Little wonder that it's my favorite time of year. The section of the Carter-Moriah Trail between Bangor Road and Moriah is fantastic and offers a little bit of everything: flat sections that meander through hardwoods, teasing views to the east, scrambling up ledges, and amazing views at the summit - I loved it. And I didn't see anyone else all day, which is always a plus in my book.
A long three-hour drive from Boston finally brought me to the parking area for the Carter-Moriah Trail, at the end of Bangor Road in Gorham. Unsurprisingly, there were no other cars on the road at the trailhead. The temperature was in the 50’s, with mostly clear skies and the rich smell of wood and leaves in the air. By the time I changed clothes, stretched, and got my pack together it was 9:25 AM when I hit the trail. I debated on wearing my fleece-lined snow pants, but seeing as there wasn’t a patch of snow to be found on the ground, I opted to leave them in the car instead. I figured that most of the snow at the lower elevations was gone from the warm spell this previous weekend. I stuffed my fleece jacket in my pack and left my heavy winter coat in the trunk.
After a quick, steep uphill section, the trail leveled out for the most part and began ascending the ridge at a comfortable grade. There were some great views north into Gorham and the Peabody River through the trees. Occasionally I would glimpse patches of snow, generally on the north side of the ridge, but the trail was just wet for the most part. After two miles through hardwoods I reached the ledges below Mt. Surprise and was greeted with some outstanding views east to the Presidentials. I stopped for some pictures, then scrambled my way up the ledges, occasionally turning around and looking behind me for more views. Here I began seeing more snow, and I made a note to exercise caution on these wet rock slabs on the way back down. If a steep slab was covered by a thin sheet of snow I would have to bushwhack up and around it, but it was nothing too challenging. This part of the trail was reminiscent of the Blueberry Ledge Trail up Whiteface, and I made it past the ledges without incident.
From here the trail seemed to adhere to a recognizable pattern of ascension: a flat, boggy section through the woods followed by a steep, rocky uphill trek, then flat again, etc. with an occasional downhill hike thrown in. The path also went from wet and muddy to eventually being covered in a base of snow a few inches thick, and I started following footprints, presumably from the weekend. The wind was cresting the ridge and howling above me through the treetops. After a curious sign pointing to “Quimby’s Pillow,” which was essentially a large boulder on the side of the ridge, I caught a glimpse of Moriah ahead. I put on my fleece jacket and pushed on until I saw a sign pointing the way to the short spur path to the top of Moriah.
Upon arriving at the summit at 12:10 PM, I was immediately slammed by a blast of arctic air that nearly froze me into shock. The views were magnificent in all directions, but because of the wind, I had a limited amount of time to enjoy them. I ducked over the side of the summit ledge and found a spot protected from the wind, where I had a quick lunch of Gatorade and a bag of Chex Mix. I stood up one last time for some pictures, trying to steady my hands on the camera against the wind before the cold finally forced me off the summit. My God, it was freezing!
I took my time on the way back down, taking care not to slip on the snow and ice. I hadn’t seen a soul all day, and in case I hurt myself, I doubted anyone would be back here until tomorrow. The ledges above Surprise were incredibly tricky to navigate, frequently requiring me to stop and plan some other means of descent. With my gloves on I was clutching tree limbs for support, and only managed to slip and fall twice. I was surprised at how dry my feet were by now; I distinctly remembered plunging my feet into half a foot of water on the way up, and I reasoned that I would be wanting dry socks on the descent. At the bottom of the ledges the trail decreased in grade and became a little easier on my knees, and without concentrating on every step I could enjoy the sunlight flickering through the trees, and the sound of my boots lightly crunching the leaves below me with every step. Finally I reached my car at 2:30, still the only one there at the end of the road. I changed boots, loaded up the car, and began the long drive home.
Days like this are the reason why I hike. A spectacular trail, mountain, and experience; congrats to the quiet, unassuming Moriah for being my favorite mountain of the Whites to date.
A long three-hour drive from Boston finally brought me to the parking area for the Carter-Moriah Trail, at the end of Bangor Road in Gorham. Unsurprisingly, there were no other cars on the road at the trailhead. The temperature was in the 50’s, with mostly clear skies and the rich smell of wood and leaves in the air. By the time I changed clothes, stretched, and got my pack together it was 9:25 AM when I hit the trail. I debated on wearing my fleece-lined snow pants, but seeing as there wasn’t a patch of snow to be found on the ground, I opted to leave them in the car instead. I figured that most of the snow at the lower elevations was gone from the warm spell this previous weekend. I stuffed my fleece jacket in my pack and left my heavy winter coat in the trunk.
After a quick, steep uphill section, the trail leveled out for the most part and began ascending the ridge at a comfortable grade. There were some great views north into Gorham and the Peabody River through the trees. Occasionally I would glimpse patches of snow, generally on the north side of the ridge, but the trail was just wet for the most part. After two miles through hardwoods I reached the ledges below Mt. Surprise and was greeted with some outstanding views east to the Presidentials. I stopped for some pictures, then scrambled my way up the ledges, occasionally turning around and looking behind me for more views. Here I began seeing more snow, and I made a note to exercise caution on these wet rock slabs on the way back down. If a steep slab was covered by a thin sheet of snow I would have to bushwhack up and around it, but it was nothing too challenging. This part of the trail was reminiscent of the Blueberry Ledge Trail up Whiteface, and I made it past the ledges without incident.
From here the trail seemed to adhere to a recognizable pattern of ascension: a flat, boggy section through the woods followed by a steep, rocky uphill trek, then flat again, etc. with an occasional downhill hike thrown in. The path also went from wet and muddy to eventually being covered in a base of snow a few inches thick, and I started following footprints, presumably from the weekend. The wind was cresting the ridge and howling above me through the treetops. After a curious sign pointing to “Quimby’s Pillow,” which was essentially a large boulder on the side of the ridge, I caught a glimpse of Moriah ahead. I put on my fleece jacket and pushed on until I saw a sign pointing the way to the short spur path to the top of Moriah.
Upon arriving at the summit at 12:10 PM, I was immediately slammed by a blast of arctic air that nearly froze me into shock. The views were magnificent in all directions, but because of the wind, I had a limited amount of time to enjoy them. I ducked over the side of the summit ledge and found a spot protected from the wind, where I had a quick lunch of Gatorade and a bag of Chex Mix. I stood up one last time for some pictures, trying to steady my hands on the camera against the wind before the cold finally forced me off the summit. My God, it was freezing!
I took my time on the way back down, taking care not to slip on the snow and ice. I hadn’t seen a soul all day, and in case I hurt myself, I doubted anyone would be back here until tomorrow. The ledges above Surprise were incredibly tricky to navigate, frequently requiring me to stop and plan some other means of descent. With my gloves on I was clutching tree limbs for support, and only managed to slip and fall twice. I was surprised at how dry my feet were by now; I distinctly remembered plunging my feet into half a foot of water on the way up, and I reasoned that I would be wanting dry socks on the descent. At the bottom of the ledges the trail decreased in grade and became a little easier on my knees, and without concentrating on every step I could enjoy the sunlight flickering through the trees, and the sound of my boots lightly crunching the leaves below me with every step. Finally I reached my car at 2:30, still the only one there at the end of the road. I changed boots, loaded up the car, and began the long drive home.
Days like this are the reason why I hike. A spectacular trail, mountain, and experience; congrats to the quiet, unassuming Moriah for being my favorite mountain of the Whites to date.
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