Great Pumpkin
Member
"Have sled will travel", or at least so we (Creaky Knees and I) thought, as we tried to kick off our winter season with a two-fer: A backpack trip up the Gale River Trail, hoping to get up to about the area of the old slide/washout at 3.1 miles, and camp there for the night, attacking South Twin and/or Galehead the next morning.
We began with a leisurely departure from the Beaver Brook XC Ski Trails parking lot at about 11:30 a.m. on Sunday 12/28, with Creaky Knees hauling the engineering marvel known as the Fred Sled along the well-marked route through the Beaver Brook XC ski trails to the Gale River Trailhead on FR 92. The day was like a breath of spring, in that there was sunshine to start, and warm breezes that enabled us to start in T-shirts. There was evidence in the form of tracks at the start of the GRT that another sled hauler had preceded us, but those tracks came to an abrupt end at the very first crossing, barely .2 of a mile up the trail. We scouted up the stream about 100 yds. and found a couple of trees blown down across the stream, which we were able to use to get the sled across without dipping same in the drink. It was otherwise shallow enough for us to get across without major difficulty. On the other side, we made good time, with mostly solid, well-consolidated snow, and some occasional muddy leaf pits and exposed rock.
We stopped for lunch in the lingering sunshine at about 12:45, and we were back on the move a little after 1:00 p.m. At just a little before 2:00 p.m. we were at the second stream crossing at 1.7 miles in, where once a sturdy footbridge stood, but it's been gone for a couple of years now, and there was no snow/ice bridge to take its place. The waters of the North Branch of the Gale River were flowing wildly over what would ordinarily be relatively easy stepping stones, and we determined that a crossing with or without the sled was not a safe option. We decided that we would try to bushwhack up along the west bank of the North Branch, and try to intersect the GRT where it recrosses the river appx. .8 mile upstream. This brilliant plan came acropper just a few hundred yards up, when the otherwise sturdy and remarkably resilient Fred Sled's PVC poles broke, either from being brittle or because of the increasingly difficult terrain and tight squeezes in the hobblebush and other puckerbrush. We elected to unload the gear from the semi-wrecked sled, thereby increasing the weight on our shoulders considerably, and to continue BWing up the edge of the stream.
Eventually, we had to go up a berm to reach a small ridge on our right (to the West), and tried to keep as close to the stream as possible. This tactic proved to be problematic, as we encountered thickets of spruce, which forced us to S-curve our track any number of times, and which seemed to be pushing us away from the river. It was not possible to go down closer to the river, as the drop off was steep, and we were reasonably certain that we had not gone far enough to intersect the segment of the GRT which continues beyond the third crossing at 2.5 miles. We eventually saw what appeared to be a more open area of hardwoods below us to the left, and descended toward same after becoming stuck in an impossibly thick knot of all things spruce. As a wise poster to these forums once put it, we were just bashing spruce, and giving blood. I took a tumble somewhere in this area, resulting in some damage to my spectacles, not to mention my pride. Alas, our hard-fought descent was for nought, as a tributary of the North Branch of the Gale River blocked our path, with no safe area to cross presenting itself.
It was now about 3:00 p.m., the formerly sunny skies had given way to overcast, with impending rain, and we both came to the simultaneous realization that this trip wasn't going to result in any summits. We got out of Dodge by retracing our steps up to the ridge (an extremely difficult and tiresome task for me), and worked our way back to a somewhat open area where there was just enough room to deploy the Sierra Alpha tent. I also realized that I had fractured my right snowshoe (MSR Denalis), and lost the tail to same. Yeesh! Just to add a little insult to injury, the impending rain materialized for just about the length of time it took to set up our shelter for the night, which we completed at about 4:30 p.m. We got some hot chow & beverage into us, managed to report our approximate position back to the wife & kids by celllphone, and were settled into our winter bags by 5:45 p.m., full dark by now, with stars overhead. A fitful night of sleep and snoring ensued, with the occasional roar of the Montreal Express outside.
We were up and about by about 6:30 a.m., efforting some breakfast, and getting stuff packed up to follow our tracks back to the area where we had stashed the wounded sled. We were on the way out by about 8:30 a.m., not in any hurry now that the summits were off the table. We heard the sound of what must have been A-10 Warthog aircraft for a little while, but never actually saw them. The Observatory forecast for sunny skies never materialized in our neck of the woods. It took us almost an hour to get back down to where we had started the BW at the second stream crossing (where the water level and rage of yesterday had receded), retrieving the remnants of the busted sled, and rigging some cordage to pull same down the GRT. About 1/2 way back down, we encountered Brian of VFTT, who was on his way up, and wished him the best of luck on his hike. We continued outward, with Fred doing the heavy lifting, and literally carrying the sled across the first crossing at the shallow ford. FR 92 was a skating rink, and we left our snowshoes on for traction on same. By the way, my MSR continued to perform remarkably well despite its damaged condition. We gave a brief "salute" to the Gale River, vowing to return. and retraced our path through the Beaver Brook ski trails, which would certainly not have been passable on skinny skis today.
We were back at the car at 10:45 a.m., with no summits to claim, but some additional experience in winter overnighting. Learned belatedly that the Patriots had failed to make the playoffs, but just like the summits we didn't bag, they'll still be there another time. Happy New Year to all of you on VFTT from Broken Snowshoe Ridge!!
We began with a leisurely departure from the Beaver Brook XC Ski Trails parking lot at about 11:30 a.m. on Sunday 12/28, with Creaky Knees hauling the engineering marvel known as the Fred Sled along the well-marked route through the Beaver Brook XC ski trails to the Gale River Trailhead on FR 92. The day was like a breath of spring, in that there was sunshine to start, and warm breezes that enabled us to start in T-shirts. There was evidence in the form of tracks at the start of the GRT that another sled hauler had preceded us, but those tracks came to an abrupt end at the very first crossing, barely .2 of a mile up the trail. We scouted up the stream about 100 yds. and found a couple of trees blown down across the stream, which we were able to use to get the sled across without dipping same in the drink. It was otherwise shallow enough for us to get across without major difficulty. On the other side, we made good time, with mostly solid, well-consolidated snow, and some occasional muddy leaf pits and exposed rock.
We stopped for lunch in the lingering sunshine at about 12:45, and we were back on the move a little after 1:00 p.m. At just a little before 2:00 p.m. we were at the second stream crossing at 1.7 miles in, where once a sturdy footbridge stood, but it's been gone for a couple of years now, and there was no snow/ice bridge to take its place. The waters of the North Branch of the Gale River were flowing wildly over what would ordinarily be relatively easy stepping stones, and we determined that a crossing with or without the sled was not a safe option. We decided that we would try to bushwhack up along the west bank of the North Branch, and try to intersect the GRT where it recrosses the river appx. .8 mile upstream. This brilliant plan came acropper just a few hundred yards up, when the otherwise sturdy and remarkably resilient Fred Sled's PVC poles broke, either from being brittle or because of the increasingly difficult terrain and tight squeezes in the hobblebush and other puckerbrush. We elected to unload the gear from the semi-wrecked sled, thereby increasing the weight on our shoulders considerably, and to continue BWing up the edge of the stream.
Eventually, we had to go up a berm to reach a small ridge on our right (to the West), and tried to keep as close to the stream as possible. This tactic proved to be problematic, as we encountered thickets of spruce, which forced us to S-curve our track any number of times, and which seemed to be pushing us away from the river. It was not possible to go down closer to the river, as the drop off was steep, and we were reasonably certain that we had not gone far enough to intersect the segment of the GRT which continues beyond the third crossing at 2.5 miles. We eventually saw what appeared to be a more open area of hardwoods below us to the left, and descended toward same after becoming stuck in an impossibly thick knot of all things spruce. As a wise poster to these forums once put it, we were just bashing spruce, and giving blood. I took a tumble somewhere in this area, resulting in some damage to my spectacles, not to mention my pride. Alas, our hard-fought descent was for nought, as a tributary of the North Branch of the Gale River blocked our path, with no safe area to cross presenting itself.
It was now about 3:00 p.m., the formerly sunny skies had given way to overcast, with impending rain, and we both came to the simultaneous realization that this trip wasn't going to result in any summits. We got out of Dodge by retracing our steps up to the ridge (an extremely difficult and tiresome task for me), and worked our way back to a somewhat open area where there was just enough room to deploy the Sierra Alpha tent. I also realized that I had fractured my right snowshoe (MSR Denalis), and lost the tail to same. Yeesh! Just to add a little insult to injury, the impending rain materialized for just about the length of time it took to set up our shelter for the night, which we completed at about 4:30 p.m. We got some hot chow & beverage into us, managed to report our approximate position back to the wife & kids by celllphone, and were settled into our winter bags by 5:45 p.m., full dark by now, with stars overhead. A fitful night of sleep and snoring ensued, with the occasional roar of the Montreal Express outside.
We were up and about by about 6:30 a.m., efforting some breakfast, and getting stuff packed up to follow our tracks back to the area where we had stashed the wounded sled. We were on the way out by about 8:30 a.m., not in any hurry now that the summits were off the table. We heard the sound of what must have been A-10 Warthog aircraft for a little while, but never actually saw them. The Observatory forecast for sunny skies never materialized in our neck of the woods. It took us almost an hour to get back down to where we had started the BW at the second stream crossing (where the water level and rage of yesterday had receded), retrieving the remnants of the busted sled, and rigging some cordage to pull same down the GRT. About 1/2 way back down, we encountered Brian of VFTT, who was on his way up, and wished him the best of luck on his hike. We continued outward, with Fred doing the heavy lifting, and literally carrying the sled across the first crossing at the shallow ford. FR 92 was a skating rink, and we left our snowshoes on for traction on same. By the way, my MSR continued to perform remarkably well despite its damaged condition. We gave a brief "salute" to the Gale River, vowing to return. and retraced our path through the Beaver Brook ski trails, which would certainly not have been passable on skinny skis today.
We were back at the car at 10:45 a.m., with no summits to claim, but some additional experience in winter overnighting. Learned belatedly that the Patriots had failed to make the playoffs, but just like the summits we didn't bag, they'll still be there another time. Happy New Year to all of you on VFTT from Broken Snowshoe Ridge!!
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