p2piper
New member
STATS:
Date: February 24, 2007
Time: 5 hours
Weather: Cloudy, snow showers, teens, light wind
Miles: 7.6
Steps: 19,034
Trails: Starr King Trail
It was with great anticipation that I woke up Saturday morning at 3:45 am to prepare myself for another attempt to climb Waumbek, the third shortest of the New Hampshire 4,000 footers at 4,006 feet. I picked up Nancy at 5 am and we were off to the north country in the dark. We talked sporadically during the first hour and more as the light of day showed itself. As we looked north we could see clouds and snow showers, but that certainly wasn’t a deterrent. Down in southern New Hampshire, the wind was howling at a good clip and we were a bit anxious about adding high winds to the mix.
At a gas station in Twin Mountain, a car pulled in behind us and one of the guys saw my license plate (PKBAGGR) and asked if we were hiking. There were three young men in the car, all eager for their attempt to hike the northernmost 4,000 footer, Mt Cabot. They were hoping we were heading to the same place so we could break trail for them. Instead we invited them to Waumbek – we could have a trail breaking party. It was nice to see other hikers and feel their enthusiasm. These guys drove all the way from Connecticut.
We made good time and hit the trailhead by 8:49 am. The Springer Spaniel who last week stole my glove was nowhere to be found. J We could see the trail was beautifully packed out and began our trek up the mountain with great expectations. I was feeling pretty strong and kept up a good pace. Nancy was not feeling up to her usual stamina and dropped behind a little. I never know what kind of a day my body will gift me with until I get started – sometimes I feel great, other times I suck. On this hiking day Nancy was struggling.
At 9:47 am we hit the spot where we turned around last Saturday after 3.5 hours of breaking new trail, paid brief homage to our perseverance, and pressed on in the beautifully tracked out trail. The trail left the hardwood forest and entered a denser forest of conifers, more closed in and breathtaking in its beauty. The Springer Spaniel from the trailhead caught up with us and I noticed on his name tag that his name wasn’t Pancho but Sancho Panza, after Don Quixote’s sidekick. He nipped at anything and everything hanging off our bodies but we kept on walking. Shortly thereafter a woman came up behind us, Becca, who was the person who hiked the trail on the Saturday (February 17) after we had broken trail on the 16th. She hadn’t made it to the summit either so was back to finish her 44th mountain in winter. Bravo, Becca! Sancho decided he liked Becca better and moved on at her pace, leaving us to bring up the rear.
When we came up to Mt Starr King’s summit (10:47 am), the snow on the trees was encased in rime ice. It was gorgeous. I took a movie to try and show how beautiful it is up there. Had we not been in the clouds, we probably could have had some views. Oh well – another day. Onward we went – the trail was less well broken out but Becca was doing a great job pushing through the drifts and making our way a little easier. We met her and Sancho on their way down about a tenth of a mile from the Waumbek summit. We hit the summit of Mt Waumbek (4,006 feet elevation) at 11:30 am, high-fived in celebration of our 45th peak, took a picture and headed back down.
We saw our first of many hikers coming up the trail as we headed down. Two young men barebooting it up the trail, postholing every few steps, and ruining the trail and the hard work Nancy and I had put into packing the trail on snowshoes. It was hard not to say anything like, “Hey, where the hell are your snowshoes? Can’t you see that you are ruining the trail? Aren’t you tired from postholing up to your knees every other step? Are you stupid or something?” I was surprised at myself – I felt really angry. And we must have met another ten hikers on the way down and half of them were in boots. Grrr… I smiled at the folks wearing snowshoes and could hardly be civil to the folks in boots. I guess I’m becoming a bit of a hiking snoot – but we didn’t work out butts off today and last Friday breaking trail so these folks could come up in boots and break it all up.
We stopped just off the summit of Starr King so Nancy could perform the odious task of changing from wet to dry clothes. She stripped down to her bra and put on dry clothes as fast as possible with cold hands and hating to be cold. But it was good, worth the temporary discomfort, to get on dry clothes. The trip down was uneventful, except for me hitting the crampon on my snowshoe and taking a header into the soft, deep snow on the side of the trail. I laughed so hard I couldn’t’ get up. The snowshoes we were wearing (MSR’s) have metal bottoms and crampons around the toe and heel for traction. That’s why they are called mountaineering snowshoes – you can climb steep mountain trails with them. But going down is an art that I don’t think I have come close to perfecting. I kept thinking about how it would feel to be going down some of the really steep pitches we have descended on other hikes. I guess it would be really slow going. I know my housemate, who has hiked the 48’s in winter, talks about taking nose dives from snowshoes grabbing the snow and the body unable to brake itself. My feet got really tired of the constant braking.
By the time we hit the trailhead (1:40 pm) my feet were done with snowshoes and it felt like heaven to take them off and walk the .3 of a mile to the parking area. We were two happy, tired girls when we took off those boots and put on tennis shoes for the drive home. We were home in time for dinner. Two strong, proud women. On to the next one on March 10. I can’t wait.
Date: February 24, 2007
Time: 5 hours
Weather: Cloudy, snow showers, teens, light wind
Miles: 7.6
Steps: 19,034
Trails: Starr King Trail
It was with great anticipation that I woke up Saturday morning at 3:45 am to prepare myself for another attempt to climb Waumbek, the third shortest of the New Hampshire 4,000 footers at 4,006 feet. I picked up Nancy at 5 am and we were off to the north country in the dark. We talked sporadically during the first hour and more as the light of day showed itself. As we looked north we could see clouds and snow showers, but that certainly wasn’t a deterrent. Down in southern New Hampshire, the wind was howling at a good clip and we were a bit anxious about adding high winds to the mix.
At a gas station in Twin Mountain, a car pulled in behind us and one of the guys saw my license plate (PKBAGGR) and asked if we were hiking. There were three young men in the car, all eager for their attempt to hike the northernmost 4,000 footer, Mt Cabot. They were hoping we were heading to the same place so we could break trail for them. Instead we invited them to Waumbek – we could have a trail breaking party. It was nice to see other hikers and feel their enthusiasm. These guys drove all the way from Connecticut.
We made good time and hit the trailhead by 8:49 am. The Springer Spaniel who last week stole my glove was nowhere to be found. J We could see the trail was beautifully packed out and began our trek up the mountain with great expectations. I was feeling pretty strong and kept up a good pace. Nancy was not feeling up to her usual stamina and dropped behind a little. I never know what kind of a day my body will gift me with until I get started – sometimes I feel great, other times I suck. On this hiking day Nancy was struggling.
At 9:47 am we hit the spot where we turned around last Saturday after 3.5 hours of breaking new trail, paid brief homage to our perseverance, and pressed on in the beautifully tracked out trail. The trail left the hardwood forest and entered a denser forest of conifers, more closed in and breathtaking in its beauty. The Springer Spaniel from the trailhead caught up with us and I noticed on his name tag that his name wasn’t Pancho but Sancho Panza, after Don Quixote’s sidekick. He nipped at anything and everything hanging off our bodies but we kept on walking. Shortly thereafter a woman came up behind us, Becca, who was the person who hiked the trail on the Saturday (February 17) after we had broken trail on the 16th. She hadn’t made it to the summit either so was back to finish her 44th mountain in winter. Bravo, Becca! Sancho decided he liked Becca better and moved on at her pace, leaving us to bring up the rear.
When we came up to Mt Starr King’s summit (10:47 am), the snow on the trees was encased in rime ice. It was gorgeous. I took a movie to try and show how beautiful it is up there. Had we not been in the clouds, we probably could have had some views. Oh well – another day. Onward we went – the trail was less well broken out but Becca was doing a great job pushing through the drifts and making our way a little easier. We met her and Sancho on their way down about a tenth of a mile from the Waumbek summit. We hit the summit of Mt Waumbek (4,006 feet elevation) at 11:30 am, high-fived in celebration of our 45th peak, took a picture and headed back down.
We saw our first of many hikers coming up the trail as we headed down. Two young men barebooting it up the trail, postholing every few steps, and ruining the trail and the hard work Nancy and I had put into packing the trail on snowshoes. It was hard not to say anything like, “Hey, where the hell are your snowshoes? Can’t you see that you are ruining the trail? Aren’t you tired from postholing up to your knees every other step? Are you stupid or something?” I was surprised at myself – I felt really angry. And we must have met another ten hikers on the way down and half of them were in boots. Grrr… I smiled at the folks wearing snowshoes and could hardly be civil to the folks in boots. I guess I’m becoming a bit of a hiking snoot – but we didn’t work out butts off today and last Friday breaking trail so these folks could come up in boots and break it all up.
We stopped just off the summit of Starr King so Nancy could perform the odious task of changing from wet to dry clothes. She stripped down to her bra and put on dry clothes as fast as possible with cold hands and hating to be cold. But it was good, worth the temporary discomfort, to get on dry clothes. The trip down was uneventful, except for me hitting the crampon on my snowshoe and taking a header into the soft, deep snow on the side of the trail. I laughed so hard I couldn’t’ get up. The snowshoes we were wearing (MSR’s) have metal bottoms and crampons around the toe and heel for traction. That’s why they are called mountaineering snowshoes – you can climb steep mountain trails with them. But going down is an art that I don’t think I have come close to perfecting. I kept thinking about how it would feel to be going down some of the really steep pitches we have descended on other hikes. I guess it would be really slow going. I know my housemate, who has hiked the 48’s in winter, talks about taking nose dives from snowshoes grabbing the snow and the body unable to brake itself. My feet got really tired of the constant braking.
By the time we hit the trailhead (1:40 pm) my feet were done with snowshoes and it felt like heaven to take them off and walk the .3 of a mile to the parking area. We were two happy, tired girls when we took off those boots and put on tennis shoes for the drive home. We were home in time for dinner. Two strong, proud women. On to the next one on March 10. I can’t wait.
