Early Bird
Active member
School’s been out for three days now, and after a day of painting, a day of landscaping, and a day at a workshop, I’d become restless for the mountains. Yes, I know I have a 21 mile hike planned for tomorrow, and yes, I know thundershowers and hail were in the forecast for Lincoln, but I wanted to go on a hike. I wanted to go on a hike now. (Said in the voice of Veruca Salt from Willie Wonka) 
For all the times I’ve rolled my eyes at the errors of weather forecasters, this time they were right.
Not that I took steps to avoid adverse weather, like getting an early start or choosing a trail that the guide books didn’t advise were slippery when wet. I didn’t even leave Nashua until after 10:00, arriving at the parking area for the Whitehouse Trail leading to Liberty/ Flume at noon. Dark rain clouds mingled with the wispy white that gave way to blue in places. The ground was wet from an earlier rainfall. Maybe I’d missed the storm. “I can always turn around if it starts up again,” I told myself knowing things would have to get close to ugly before I turned around and thinking I wouldn’t be above treeline much. All began well, short sleeves, shorts, easy trails, whistling as I walked. Birds and toads and thoughts of summer on the Appalachian Trail. Would I see any ’07 thru-hikers on my way down Liberty Springs? I had trail magic with me just in case.
There was plenty of fool’s rain, the sound of water being blown off the trees' leaves sometimes causing hikers to think it’s raining. I wasn’t fooled. My spirits were up. Somewhere along the Flume Slide Trail, the sound changed. Thinking this was real rain, I donned my rain jacket and pack cover. Bingo. Real rain fell. Real rain fell harder. Then hail fell. Then the thunder began. I counted. It seemed far away. I told myself I was still well in the cover of trees and that this was good. Thunder doesn’t last forever. “Get it out of the way now before I reach the base of the slide.” And so it happened. By the time I reached the slide, it had been quite a while since I’d heard thunder.
Although the rain continued, I was doing all right on the wet rocks and still reminding myself I could turn back. At one slick rock face, I found I couldn’t manage the climb. Then to the left I noticed a herd path. Fabulous! Most of the rest of the way to the Osseo junction I was either on the left or right of the slide along an obviously previously traveled path. Eventually, the rain stopped briefly.
From Mt. Flume, the majestic views we all hike for presented themselves. East the sky was in various shades of whites, grays, and almost purple clouds, some fast moving, others seemingly stationary. West the sky was blue with more of the white clouds than any others. Misty mountains were everywhere. Over Liberty, stormy clouds hung. I didn’t stop. I knew that was the most exposed area I’d contend with.
On the way to Liberty, the hail began again and continued until I was over the summit. Winds were strong on Liberty and turning once to catch a glimpse of any might be view resulted in being pelted by hail. Again I didn’t stop.
At the Liberty Springs Campsite, I asked the caretaker if any AT hikers were there. I was carrying five cans of Coke as trail magic in case I ran into any. There weren’t. He’d only seen one family of hikers earlier in the day. We talked briefly, about the hail and the expected cold overnight temperatures and my plan for the day. He seemed relieved to hear I was heading home. Continuing down I ran into a spread out group of Long Islanders out for four days. I’d actually seen them in the parking area as I was getting ready to start my hike too. They carried, they all said although it was obvious, “too much stuff”. Colman quarts of propane, full size frying pans, midsized coolers bungeed to their packs. When the weather cleared up, as it’s supposed to tomorrow, they were going to have fun out there. These six and a trio along Franconia Ridge were the only people I saw today.
The rest of the way down, the sun shone and intermittent sprinkles fell, the kind of stuff rainbows are made of. My clothes mostly dried. Warblers sang and I again whistled, glad too have gotten outdoors. A wet day in the mountains is better than a dry day at home.
For all the times I’ve rolled my eyes at the errors of weather forecasters, this time they were right. Not that I took steps to avoid adverse weather, like getting an early start or choosing a trail that the guide books didn’t advise were slippery when wet. I didn’t even leave Nashua until after 10:00, arriving at the parking area for the Whitehouse Trail leading to Liberty/ Flume at noon. Dark rain clouds mingled with the wispy white that gave way to blue in places. The ground was wet from an earlier rainfall. Maybe I’d missed the storm. “I can always turn around if it starts up again,” I told myself knowing things would have to get close to ugly before I turned around and thinking I wouldn’t be above treeline much. All began well, short sleeves, shorts, easy trails, whistling as I walked. Birds and toads and thoughts of summer on the Appalachian Trail. Would I see any ’07 thru-hikers on my way down Liberty Springs? I had trail magic with me just in case.
There was plenty of fool’s rain, the sound of water being blown off the trees' leaves sometimes causing hikers to think it’s raining. I wasn’t fooled. My spirits were up. Somewhere along the Flume Slide Trail, the sound changed. Thinking this was real rain, I donned my rain jacket and pack cover. Bingo. Real rain fell. Real rain fell harder. Then hail fell. Then the thunder began.
I counted. It seemed far away. I told myself I was still well in the cover of trees and that this was good. Thunder doesn’t last forever. “Get it out of the way now before I reach the base of the slide.” And so it happened. By the time I reached the slide, it had been quite a while since I’d heard thunder. Although the rain continued, I was doing all right on the wet rocks and still reminding myself I could turn back. At one slick rock face, I found I couldn’t manage the climb. Then to the left I noticed a herd path. Fabulous!
Most of the rest of the way to the Osseo junction I was either on the left or right of the slide along an obviously previously traveled path. Eventually, the rain stopped briefly. From Mt. Flume, the majestic views we all hike for presented themselves. East the sky was in various shades of whites, grays, and almost purple clouds, some fast moving, others seemingly stationary. West the sky was blue with more of the white clouds than any others. Misty mountains were everywhere. Over Liberty, stormy clouds hung. I didn’t stop. I knew that was the most exposed area I’d contend with.
On the way to Liberty, the hail began again and continued until I was over the summit. Winds were strong on Liberty and turning once to catch a glimpse of any might be view resulted in being pelted by hail. Again I didn’t stop.
At the Liberty Springs Campsite, I asked the caretaker if any AT hikers were there. I was carrying five cans of Coke as trail magic in case I ran into any. There weren’t. He’d only seen one family of hikers earlier in the day. We talked briefly, about the hail and the expected cold overnight temperatures and my plan for the day. He seemed relieved to hear I was heading home. Continuing down I ran into a spread out group of Long Islanders out for four days. I’d actually seen them in the parking area as I was getting ready to start my hike too. They carried, they all said although it was obvious, “too much stuff”. Colman quarts of propane, full size frying pans, midsized coolers bungeed to their packs.
When the weather cleared up, as it’s supposed to tomorrow, they were going to have fun out there. These six and a trio along Franconia Ridge were the only people I saw today. The rest of the way down, the sun shone and intermittent sprinkles fell, the kind of stuff rainbows are made of. My clothes mostly dried. Warblers sang and I again whistled, glad too have gotten outdoors. A wet day in the mountains is better than a dry day at home.
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