Neil
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Here's the basic route that was followed.(I don't know why the balloons are lettered non-alphabetically)
This was one very cool hike. The southwest side of the Macintyre Range is a regular banquet of route choices and I had a lot of fun scoping it out from pictures, USA photomaps aerial photos and the map. Last winter, Randomscooter and I went about 1/3 of the way in and turned around at the foot of the drainage/waterfall, which gave me some foreknowledge of what to expect.
After a leisurely stroll along the Indian Pass brook trail to the lean-to on the tributary of Indian pass Brook I turned my compass dial to 145 magnetic and headed up the hill to my first check point, roughly 1000 feet of elevation above. It was interesting to compare the equidistant contour lines on the map with the terrain where cliffs and flat areas alternated. It seemed that to make things simple they just averaged it all out. The cliffs were definitely higher than 2 contour lines.
The first set of cliffs was a beauty and I made a long left detour and grunted up very steep terrain to a flat area. The woods were fairly open and as I approached the top of the East-West running ridge I was traversing I saw tell-tale signs of snapped off tree tops and thick balsams so I made a right-hand detour. This led me to a rocky outcrop at approximately 3000 feet, 800 feet directly above the drainage RS and I had followed last winter. I had spectacular face-on views of the Macyntre Range and could see my entire planned route, which I photographed copiously, along with Wallface and Lost Pond Peak. I also dug out my gps and recorded the spot as a waypoint.
The drainage/slide I planned on following looked very steep and the lower headwall appeared to be covered in a mix of water and ice. I continued on my bearing, contouring along the south side of the ridge and suddenly found myself at the edge of a 50 foot vertical drop that didn’t make it onto the map. After some dipsy-doodling and doing an end run around some very gnarly stuff I dropped 150 feet down a steep but manageable slope and found myself at the confluence of 2 drainages and ready to begin the “real” climb. After being at that spot in winter it was interesting to see it again looking totally different in summer. Talk about remote and rugged!
There was no way I was tackling the steep headwall as it was smeared in a mix of new ice and wet lichens and it had water flowing right across its width. Into the woods I went up 30-40 degree slopes getting a good upper body workout. The views, however, were all from the drainage (one of the main reasons for the route selection) so I kept as close to it as possible. I tried walking along its edge hanging on trees but it was too treacherous. The creek bed alternated between steep sections and flat and the walls often formed a steep and narrow vee, so I alternated going in and out of the drainage until the pitch eased off definitively at around 1200 meters (4000 feet). Along the way, below the steep pitches there were several large areas of foot-thick, rock-solid ice composed of transformed and compacted snow from avalanches. Keeping an eye on the altimeter I watched for the obliquely oriented slide joining left at 1250 meters. It was obvious as the drainage opened up into a true Adirondack slide. From the top of the slide (roughly 1350 M) I knew I had 1000 feet of cripplebush to side slope through in order to get directly below the summit. I figured that cripplebush above 4500 feet on a west-facing slope would be hellacious but I also figured I could get through 1000 feet of anything, given enough time and patience of which I had plenty. I'd been thinking about this section all the way in and maintained an energy conserving pace in order to be ready for it.
There were a few inches of snow on the ground and this showed the little seams that were woven through the coniferous tapestry like white thread. The seams all led in an upwards direction but I wanted to side-slope for a few reasons. One was to explore a different approach from the valley below and another was to ascend off-trail as directly to and as close to the summit as possible for my own quirky reasons. Surprisingly, it turned out to be not that bad except for the little birches that grew amongst the conifers. Their twisty and incredibly resilient little trunks grew parallel to the slope and lay horizontally across my path at about hip height. But from within the cripplebush I had fantastic views so I toodled along very, very slowly. It was only 1 pm, and anyway, not only did I have nothing else to do, there was nothing I would rather have been doing.
I only had 190 feet of traversing left to go (according to my gps) when I saw above me that I had a straight shot of open rock to the summit. The lower slopes of Algonquin appeared to be one long series of fir waves and cripplebush in any case so I made the turn and slowly, very slowly, savouring the moment I worked my way to the top. The views of Boundary and Iroquois were splendid (running out of adjectives). I intersected the trail about a minute from the summit. From Loj to summit had taken 6 1/2 hours. There was a couple from CT there and when I answered the question as to how I had come up the girl actually laughed at me, or so it seemed. I sat there for a few minutes feeling very satisfied having made it up successfully. There was no wind and you could here Indian Pass Brook 3000 feet below.
Then I got up and wandered off. I really noticed the fatigue in my legs going down the steep, rocky and icy trail. The easy walk out along the final .9 miles of the Van Ho trail was greatly appreciated.
I think I’ll return when the rock is bone dry and continue straight up to the Algonquin-Boundary col. As far as doing it as a winter trip goes, there is only one word: crust.
Pictorial essay.
This was one very cool hike. The southwest side of the Macintyre Range is a regular banquet of route choices and I had a lot of fun scoping it out from pictures, USA photomaps aerial photos and the map. Last winter, Randomscooter and I went about 1/3 of the way in and turned around at the foot of the drainage/waterfall, which gave me some foreknowledge of what to expect.
After a leisurely stroll along the Indian Pass brook trail to the lean-to on the tributary of Indian pass Brook I turned my compass dial to 145 magnetic and headed up the hill to my first check point, roughly 1000 feet of elevation above. It was interesting to compare the equidistant contour lines on the map with the terrain where cliffs and flat areas alternated. It seemed that to make things simple they just averaged it all out. The cliffs were definitely higher than 2 contour lines.
The first set of cliffs was a beauty and I made a long left detour and grunted up very steep terrain to a flat area. The woods were fairly open and as I approached the top of the East-West running ridge I was traversing I saw tell-tale signs of snapped off tree tops and thick balsams so I made a right-hand detour. This led me to a rocky outcrop at approximately 3000 feet, 800 feet directly above the drainage RS and I had followed last winter. I had spectacular face-on views of the Macyntre Range and could see my entire planned route, which I photographed copiously, along with Wallface and Lost Pond Peak. I also dug out my gps and recorded the spot as a waypoint.
The drainage/slide I planned on following looked very steep and the lower headwall appeared to be covered in a mix of water and ice. I continued on my bearing, contouring along the south side of the ridge and suddenly found myself at the edge of a 50 foot vertical drop that didn’t make it onto the map. After some dipsy-doodling and doing an end run around some very gnarly stuff I dropped 150 feet down a steep but manageable slope and found myself at the confluence of 2 drainages and ready to begin the “real” climb. After being at that spot in winter it was interesting to see it again looking totally different in summer. Talk about remote and rugged!
There was no way I was tackling the steep headwall as it was smeared in a mix of new ice and wet lichens and it had water flowing right across its width. Into the woods I went up 30-40 degree slopes getting a good upper body workout. The views, however, were all from the drainage (one of the main reasons for the route selection) so I kept as close to it as possible. I tried walking along its edge hanging on trees but it was too treacherous. The creek bed alternated between steep sections and flat and the walls often formed a steep and narrow vee, so I alternated going in and out of the drainage until the pitch eased off definitively at around 1200 meters (4000 feet). Along the way, below the steep pitches there were several large areas of foot-thick, rock-solid ice composed of transformed and compacted snow from avalanches. Keeping an eye on the altimeter I watched for the obliquely oriented slide joining left at 1250 meters. It was obvious as the drainage opened up into a true Adirondack slide. From the top of the slide (roughly 1350 M) I knew I had 1000 feet of cripplebush to side slope through in order to get directly below the summit. I figured that cripplebush above 4500 feet on a west-facing slope would be hellacious but I also figured I could get through 1000 feet of anything, given enough time and patience of which I had plenty. I'd been thinking about this section all the way in and maintained an energy conserving pace in order to be ready for it.
There were a few inches of snow on the ground and this showed the little seams that were woven through the coniferous tapestry like white thread. The seams all led in an upwards direction but I wanted to side-slope for a few reasons. One was to explore a different approach from the valley below and another was to ascend off-trail as directly to and as close to the summit as possible for my own quirky reasons. Surprisingly, it turned out to be not that bad except for the little birches that grew amongst the conifers. Their twisty and incredibly resilient little trunks grew parallel to the slope and lay horizontally across my path at about hip height. But from within the cripplebush I had fantastic views so I toodled along very, very slowly. It was only 1 pm, and anyway, not only did I have nothing else to do, there was nothing I would rather have been doing.
I only had 190 feet of traversing left to go (according to my gps) when I saw above me that I had a straight shot of open rock to the summit. The lower slopes of Algonquin appeared to be one long series of fir waves and cripplebush in any case so I made the turn and slowly, very slowly, savouring the moment I worked my way to the top. The views of Boundary and Iroquois were splendid (running out of adjectives). I intersected the trail about a minute from the summit. From Loj to summit had taken 6 1/2 hours. There was a couple from CT there and when I answered the question as to how I had come up the girl actually laughed at me, or so it seemed. I sat there for a few minutes feeling very satisfied having made it up successfully. There was no wind and you could here Indian Pass Brook 3000 feet below.
Then I got up and wandered off. I really noticed the fatigue in my legs going down the steep, rocky and icy trail. The easy walk out along the final .9 miles of the Van Ho trail was greatly appreciated.
I think I’ll return when the rock is bone dry and continue straight up to the Algonquin-Boundary col. As far as doing it as a winter trip goes, there is only one word: crust.
Pictorial essay.
