Sometimes you have to make a sacrifice in order for the hike to be a success. I'm not talking about a goat to the heathen gods, but rather the sacrifice of sleep. When the alarm sounded at 4:30am, the trailhead to climb up to Mt. Cabot was 186 miles from my cozy bed, and it wasn't going to get any closer on its own. It's one thing to be on the road before dawn in the winter; however, driving in the dark on August 1st the only thing keeping my eyes open was the prospect of four-thousand-footer #41.
I made the usual stops to take on food and water, and leave behind same. I also drove through blindingly pouring rain just north of Concord as thunderstorms tore through. Fortunately, I had looked at the radar before leaving, and had seen that the storm line had long since passed through northern NH and that this was just "crossing the diagonal."
It seemed the driving would never end: it was already the scheduled start time of 9am and I hadn't even reached Rte 110 yet. When finally I got to Mill Brook Road about 20 minutes late, I was thrilled to discover that the gate was open, and we would be able to start right at the Unknown Pond Trailhead and not have a 0.8 mile road walk (sort of making up for my tardiness). I was apologetic to my hiking partners, got my gear on, and then myself, MtnMagic, GhostDog, MtnClimber, and NH_Mtn_Hiker hit the trail.
The Unknown Pond Trail from the west felt just like it did two years ago from the east - a moderately steep and steady grade going straight ahead up the side of the ravine through gorgeous birch forest. Even at the upper reaches, where it starts to level out and crosses the head of the brook surrounded by ferns, it was like a mirror image of the other side. It was grueling, because since it's not a difficult trail we tended to really move on it and exert ourselves while the air was still and stiflingly humid. There was a lot of stepping on damp rocks (but no rock steps), very slippery exposed roots, and the occasional patch of several-inch-deep mud. It was refreshing to feel the air as we crested the hill after an hour and a quarter and found ourselves on the edges of Unknown Pond.
This glacial tarn is a gem, and 'Magic and I brought the group over to the northeastern bank to show off the view of the Horn. Unfortunately, it was shrouded in fog. At the same time, though, we had a nice talk (and a few barks and growls) with a friendly couple camped at one of the sites. The privy was found to be in abysmal condition - apparently folks have been keeping the door open and it's brutally fly-infested. This is sad, because I think it's a new privy, installed in just the past two years.
But it was now time to head south on the Kilkenny Ridge Trail. This section of the route is deceivingly long; the Horn looks like it's right there, but yet the trail takes forever to reach it. There are numerous, fortunately minor, ups and downs, some rock stepping, and a few deep mud holes. The humidity was still with us, but every so often the breeze would come through. We "eventually" reached the side trail to the Horn, but decided to skip it for now since the clouds were still low in the sky and visibility seemed to be lacking. We took a quick snack break, and started up the Bulge.
Oddly enough, I found the entire section of trail over the Bulge, from the Horn to Cabot, to go the easiest and quickest of the entire trip. I'm not sure why. This is an attractive section of forest, complete with Spanish Moss hanging from many of the trees. The ascent up the Bulge was not difficult, and soon we were on the cairn-marked summit, the cloud ceiling just barely over our heads. After a few quick pictures, we made the descent down the other side. In spite of being over 4 miles into the trip at this point, I found this descent and the rise up Cabot easy: I was surprised when suddenly were at the summit at 1:00pm! It must have been because I was talking my head off the whole time...
We took a break for a group summit photo, food and water, and a brief exploration of the summit area. It's open under the tree canopy and somewhat interesting in that regard. Small paths crisscross the area. There were no views, as we were now above the clouds in the fog. Still, it was a fine peak for #41 and I was having a great day.
We soon shouldered our packs and started back down. The descent was tricky in spots due to the plethora of slippery tree roots, but overall was very mellow, and we easily ascended back up over the Bulge and back to the side trail to the Horn. At this point, we met up with a group of hikers (in fact, we'd seen them earlier) taking a lunch break. They had enormous backpacks, and were doing a weeklong trip following the Cohos Trail from Starr King all the way up to their car spot at Lake Francis. That's way the heck up by the Connecticut Lakes, 45 miles as the eagle flies, far more along the trail. I was very jealous of their trip, but not of their packs.
There were patches of blue over our heads and the clouds were breaking up, so we wished them safe journey and made our way up the short spur to the Horn just as views were opening up on all sides. Truly, this location is one of the finest in all the Whites. It's not that high, but from atop the summit ledge it has almost a full circle of view across miles and miles of green. The Pilot Range, the Pliny Range, the entire Kilkenny, the Presidentials in the distance, off to Vermont and up through the Great North Woods ... it's a tremendous feeling to stand there. We also saw, soaring in the distance, what we believe must have been an eagle. It never got close enough to be 100% sure, but given how huge it was, it had to be either an eagle or the largest hawk we've ever encountered. It spiraling up to a towering height before catching the breeze and soaring across the entire valley to the summits beyond.
We rested, ate, drank, explored - it was hard to tear ourselves away from this spot. But with many miles of hiking and the long drive home, we had to return to the trail. At this point, my legs were getting tired. Any level or descending terrain was not a problem, but the small ups would bring me almost to a dead stop. It seemed an eternity before we arrived back at Unknown Pond to again visit our friends the campers and this time see the view of the Horn rising over the pond.
The rest of the hike is a blur in my memory. Birches, mud, roots, rocks, vicious bugs, sun, humidity, a long moderate descent back to the road. We arrived at the cars almost exactly 7 hours after leaving, including all our stops. Then it was a quick change into dry clothes, an ice cold soda, and 3-1/2 hours of sore, stiffening knees on the highway. I should keep the glove compartment stocked with ibuprofen.
I was very lucky on the drive home as well: I apparently left the camera (in its case) on the roof of the car. It miraculously stayed up there for the entire 4+ miles of gravelly, twisting Mill Brook Road, and it was only after I was on Rte 110 doing 55mph that a gust of wind flipped it up and onto the road, and I just happened to see it happen in my rear-view mirror. I pulled over, rescued it, and discovered no signs of damage! Some days the world can be a nice place.
Of course, driving 7-1/2 hours in one day to do a 7-hour hike is a clear sign that I've gone off the deep end. Fortunately, my remaining 4000-footers are all a lot easier to get to (though not necessarily climb!) I apologize if I've left anything important out of this report - I was really tired that day.
Special thanks to my hiking partners for Mt. Cabot - I had a terrific time and look forward to our next hikes together!
Pictures will soon be available here.
I made the usual stops to take on food and water, and leave behind same. I also drove through blindingly pouring rain just north of Concord as thunderstorms tore through. Fortunately, I had looked at the radar before leaving, and had seen that the storm line had long since passed through northern NH and that this was just "crossing the diagonal."
It seemed the driving would never end: it was already the scheduled start time of 9am and I hadn't even reached Rte 110 yet. When finally I got to Mill Brook Road about 20 minutes late, I was thrilled to discover that the gate was open, and we would be able to start right at the Unknown Pond Trailhead and not have a 0.8 mile road walk (sort of making up for my tardiness). I was apologetic to my hiking partners, got my gear on, and then myself, MtnMagic, GhostDog, MtnClimber, and NH_Mtn_Hiker hit the trail.
The Unknown Pond Trail from the west felt just like it did two years ago from the east - a moderately steep and steady grade going straight ahead up the side of the ravine through gorgeous birch forest. Even at the upper reaches, where it starts to level out and crosses the head of the brook surrounded by ferns, it was like a mirror image of the other side. It was grueling, because since it's not a difficult trail we tended to really move on it and exert ourselves while the air was still and stiflingly humid. There was a lot of stepping on damp rocks (but no rock steps), very slippery exposed roots, and the occasional patch of several-inch-deep mud. It was refreshing to feel the air as we crested the hill after an hour and a quarter and found ourselves on the edges of Unknown Pond.
This glacial tarn is a gem, and 'Magic and I brought the group over to the northeastern bank to show off the view of the Horn. Unfortunately, it was shrouded in fog. At the same time, though, we had a nice talk (and a few barks and growls) with a friendly couple camped at one of the sites. The privy was found to be in abysmal condition - apparently folks have been keeping the door open and it's brutally fly-infested. This is sad, because I think it's a new privy, installed in just the past two years.
But it was now time to head south on the Kilkenny Ridge Trail. This section of the route is deceivingly long; the Horn looks like it's right there, but yet the trail takes forever to reach it. There are numerous, fortunately minor, ups and downs, some rock stepping, and a few deep mud holes. The humidity was still with us, but every so often the breeze would come through. We "eventually" reached the side trail to the Horn, but decided to skip it for now since the clouds were still low in the sky and visibility seemed to be lacking. We took a quick snack break, and started up the Bulge.
Oddly enough, I found the entire section of trail over the Bulge, from the Horn to Cabot, to go the easiest and quickest of the entire trip. I'm not sure why. This is an attractive section of forest, complete with Spanish Moss hanging from many of the trees. The ascent up the Bulge was not difficult, and soon we were on the cairn-marked summit, the cloud ceiling just barely over our heads. After a few quick pictures, we made the descent down the other side. In spite of being over 4 miles into the trip at this point, I found this descent and the rise up Cabot easy: I was surprised when suddenly were at the summit at 1:00pm! It must have been because I was talking my head off the whole time...
We took a break for a group summit photo, food and water, and a brief exploration of the summit area. It's open under the tree canopy and somewhat interesting in that regard. Small paths crisscross the area. There were no views, as we were now above the clouds in the fog. Still, it was a fine peak for #41 and I was having a great day.
We soon shouldered our packs and started back down. The descent was tricky in spots due to the plethora of slippery tree roots, but overall was very mellow, and we easily ascended back up over the Bulge and back to the side trail to the Horn. At this point, we met up with a group of hikers (in fact, we'd seen them earlier) taking a lunch break. They had enormous backpacks, and were doing a weeklong trip following the Cohos Trail from Starr King all the way up to their car spot at Lake Francis. That's way the heck up by the Connecticut Lakes, 45 miles as the eagle flies, far more along the trail. I was very jealous of their trip, but not of their packs.
There were patches of blue over our heads and the clouds were breaking up, so we wished them safe journey and made our way up the short spur to the Horn just as views were opening up on all sides. Truly, this location is one of the finest in all the Whites. It's not that high, but from atop the summit ledge it has almost a full circle of view across miles and miles of green. The Pilot Range, the Pliny Range, the entire Kilkenny, the Presidentials in the distance, off to Vermont and up through the Great North Woods ... it's a tremendous feeling to stand there. We also saw, soaring in the distance, what we believe must have been an eagle. It never got close enough to be 100% sure, but given how huge it was, it had to be either an eagle or the largest hawk we've ever encountered. It spiraling up to a towering height before catching the breeze and soaring across the entire valley to the summits beyond.
We rested, ate, drank, explored - it was hard to tear ourselves away from this spot. But with many miles of hiking and the long drive home, we had to return to the trail. At this point, my legs were getting tired. Any level or descending terrain was not a problem, but the small ups would bring me almost to a dead stop. It seemed an eternity before we arrived back at Unknown Pond to again visit our friends the campers and this time see the view of the Horn rising over the pond.
The rest of the hike is a blur in my memory. Birches, mud, roots, rocks, vicious bugs, sun, humidity, a long moderate descent back to the road. We arrived at the cars almost exactly 7 hours after leaving, including all our stops. Then it was a quick change into dry clothes, an ice cold soda, and 3-1/2 hours of sore, stiffening knees on the highway. I should keep the glove compartment stocked with ibuprofen.
I was very lucky on the drive home as well: I apparently left the camera (in its case) on the roof of the car. It miraculously stayed up there for the entire 4+ miles of gravelly, twisting Mill Brook Road, and it was only after I was on Rte 110 doing 55mph that a gust of wind flipped it up and onto the road, and I just happened to see it happen in my rear-view mirror. I pulled over, rescued it, and discovered no signs of damage! Some days the world can be a nice place.
Of course, driving 7-1/2 hours in one day to do a 7-hour hike is a clear sign that I've gone off the deep end. Fortunately, my remaining 4000-footers are all a lot easier to get to (though not necessarily climb!) I apologize if I've left anything important out of this report - I was really tired that day.
Special thanks to my hiking partners for Mt. Cabot - I had a terrific time and look forward to our next hikes together!
Pictures will soon be available here.
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