Fat Tuesday
New member
Two most beloved individuals planned a weekend trip to the baldfaces and the wild river wilderness. They enticed six of their biggest fans to join in the fun. Sadly, said hikers were suddenly unable to attend their own trip, leaving us six to pick up the pieces of our broken hearts.
Juniper, Lil Sis, Darl (did you know that Superwoman wears a knee brace?) and I met up at the Baldface Circle trail at 6:30 or so on Friday evening. Rebecca and I had left our car at the Evans Notch parking area, having set a tentative plan to come out there. The four of us, plus Hamtero and Swamp planned to hike the Baldfaces on Saturday. Rachel and Darl would leave us just past Mount Meader and the remaining four would head over the Royces and possibly into the Caribou Speckled region.
A happy, uneventful trip up to Baldface shelter for us ladies. We met up with Lloyd and Swamp who had taken the Baldface Circle to S. Baldface and then bushwhacked to Sable Mtn, then back to South Baldface and down to the shelter. Underachievers. We had a fun night at the shelter despite me abruptly meeting a shelter roof beam with my forehead and then discovering that my Trader Joe’s bottle of sake was only 6% alcohol.
We woke up on Saturday at 5:30 a.m. to someone whoopin and hollerin about the sunrise. Thinking it was our group, I rushed out to the ledges above the shelter to see it. It was indeed glorious, but the noisy bunch was a group of college-aged kids who drove through the night from CT and hiked in to the shelter in the wee hours.
At about 9:00 we made our way up from the shelter and were greeted by some ledgy business. I remarked to myself that the two friends whose idea it was to climb these slabs with full packs were notably absent. Though skies were cloudy, weather was pleasant and favorable and we had a great morning. By the time we got to North Baldface and Washington and Boott Spur came into view, the sky was sunny and life was near perfect. As if to corrobate, a rainbow of sorts appeared in the sky. Rachel, the optimist pointed it out. Another commented that our rainbow was pretty much just a stripe of blue. Lloyd declared it a “lamebow”.
Dipping down towards Eagle Crag we encountered (dun-dun-duunnn) the upper snowfields, which we managed to navigate without injury. Somewhere along the Meader Ridge trail we filtered water. The four of us who were staying on for a second night each traveled with three liters. Moments later, we bid farewell to Rach and Darl who headed down the Mt. Meader trail. The gods did not approve of their departure, because the winds picked up immediately thereafter and the clouds rolled in. We made our way up to Rim Jct and decided that, rather than heading for the Royces and thereby risking getting our hair wet, we should head for shelter. We detoured to Blue Brook Shelter at 3:00 p.m. and settled in for the storm.
The storm came that night. It poured all night, and we felt vindicated. We made the right choice in trading our dreams of “big miles” for some Jim Beam and Wild River ghost stories.
Morning brought more rain though it ended by the time we left the shelter. We slipped and slid toward the Royces. Lots of pretty overlooks to Basin Pond, etc. The trail, though generally great, was overgrown in places and the low scrub would sometimes hide slippery rocks and roots underneath. Our pants were soaked through when we reached the next junction, and those of us with shorts on were bloody-legged.
For some reason, beyond West Royce the ground became drier. The hike up to East Royce would’ve been a lot worse if it had been as wet as the first half of our day.
E. Royce was beautiful and I enjoyed seeing the ridge that we had traversed over the past two days. Swamp’s GPS told us that we were not in fact on the summit and we meandered another 500 feet or so until we found the true summit, which afforded a great view of Shelburne Moriah.
We headed down from there and continued to 113 where Reb’s car awaited us. We decided against continuing to Speckled Mtn. Another day. Trip stats (provided by Reb): 16.2 miles traveled, 6603 ft. of gain, 5685 ft. loss.
Photojournalistic documentation by Rebecca:
http://http://rebby.smugmug.com/gallery/8242771_BDWj2#539020890_YfC3o
A grand weekend punctuated by fiddleheads and trillium, moose scat in ubiquity, canned dale’s ale, sat spread tales and many blows to the head.
Juniper, Lil Sis, Darl (did you know that Superwoman wears a knee brace?) and I met up at the Baldface Circle trail at 6:30 or so on Friday evening. Rebecca and I had left our car at the Evans Notch parking area, having set a tentative plan to come out there. The four of us, plus Hamtero and Swamp planned to hike the Baldfaces on Saturday. Rachel and Darl would leave us just past Mount Meader and the remaining four would head over the Royces and possibly into the Caribou Speckled region.
A happy, uneventful trip up to Baldface shelter for us ladies. We met up with Lloyd and Swamp who had taken the Baldface Circle to S. Baldface and then bushwhacked to Sable Mtn, then back to South Baldface and down to the shelter. Underachievers. We had a fun night at the shelter despite me abruptly meeting a shelter roof beam with my forehead and then discovering that my Trader Joe’s bottle of sake was only 6% alcohol.
We woke up on Saturday at 5:30 a.m. to someone whoopin and hollerin about the sunrise. Thinking it was our group, I rushed out to the ledges above the shelter to see it. It was indeed glorious, but the noisy bunch was a group of college-aged kids who drove through the night from CT and hiked in to the shelter in the wee hours.
At about 9:00 we made our way up from the shelter and were greeted by some ledgy business. I remarked to myself that the two friends whose idea it was to climb these slabs with full packs were notably absent. Though skies were cloudy, weather was pleasant and favorable and we had a great morning. By the time we got to North Baldface and Washington and Boott Spur came into view, the sky was sunny and life was near perfect. As if to corrobate, a rainbow of sorts appeared in the sky. Rachel, the optimist pointed it out. Another commented that our rainbow was pretty much just a stripe of blue. Lloyd declared it a “lamebow”.
Dipping down towards Eagle Crag we encountered (dun-dun-duunnn) the upper snowfields, which we managed to navigate without injury. Somewhere along the Meader Ridge trail we filtered water. The four of us who were staying on for a second night each traveled with three liters. Moments later, we bid farewell to Rach and Darl who headed down the Mt. Meader trail. The gods did not approve of their departure, because the winds picked up immediately thereafter and the clouds rolled in. We made our way up to Rim Jct and decided that, rather than heading for the Royces and thereby risking getting our hair wet, we should head for shelter. We detoured to Blue Brook Shelter at 3:00 p.m. and settled in for the storm.
The storm came that night. It poured all night, and we felt vindicated. We made the right choice in trading our dreams of “big miles” for some Jim Beam and Wild River ghost stories.
Morning brought more rain though it ended by the time we left the shelter. We slipped and slid toward the Royces. Lots of pretty overlooks to Basin Pond, etc. The trail, though generally great, was overgrown in places and the low scrub would sometimes hide slippery rocks and roots underneath. Our pants were soaked through when we reached the next junction, and those of us with shorts on were bloody-legged.
For some reason, beyond West Royce the ground became drier. The hike up to East Royce would’ve been a lot worse if it had been as wet as the first half of our day.
E. Royce was beautiful and I enjoyed seeing the ridge that we had traversed over the past two days. Swamp’s GPS told us that we were not in fact on the summit and we meandered another 500 feet or so until we found the true summit, which afforded a great view of Shelburne Moriah.
We headed down from there and continued to 113 where Reb’s car awaited us. We decided against continuing to Speckled Mtn. Another day. Trip stats (provided by Reb): 16.2 miles traveled, 6603 ft. of gain, 5685 ft. loss.
Photojournalistic documentation by Rebecca:
http://http://rebby.smugmug.com/gallery/8242771_BDWj2#539020890_YfC3o
A grand weekend punctuated by fiddleheads and trillium, moose scat in ubiquity, canned dale’s ale, sat spread tales and many blows to the head.
Last edited:
I'm looking forward to planning another trip into the Wild River too and I promise I'll be there as long as I do not get sick again.
