antelucyferum
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Via Greeley Pond Trail
Trail Conditions: packed leaves and light snow until about 1.75 mi; then steep and icy; three uncleared but navigable blowdowns.
Weather Conditions: about 45 degrees all the way; no wind until the top, where it's mostly blocked; no precipitation.
Equipment: microspikes on the way down.
11 November 2012
11:45 - 16:21
Hiking Mt. Jackson last weekend was a great introduction to wintry conditions. My hiking companion (J) and I picked the Osceolas as another one good for beginners. We nearly didn't head out at all. After an unexpectedly late Saturday party, a fitful night of little sleep, and a sore throat in the morning, I wasn't in the mood for elevation gains and snow. J was iffy, too, so we ended up playing hiking chicken for a couple of hours. Who would bail first? Neither, it turns out. Pride is a powerful thing. But by that point, it was clear that we'd only get one peak, if that. Happily, I realized at the end of the day that even with additional time, both Osceolas would have been ambitious for new winter hikers. My dithering didn't cost us a peak after all.
We also had a tough time picking a trail. A friend had told us that Tripoli was by far the easier, but it was also longer and we were getting such a late start. Based on trip reports here and notes in the AMC books, it looked like either trail could have very icy bits. We settled on Greeley Pond Trail purely for the shorter distance and reached the trailhead at the scandalous hour of 11:45. The parking lot was full, yet we saw few hikers all day. The first 1.5mi would be accessible to almost any beginner in almost any conditions, as long as you knew where the trail went. Still, poor J had to pause repeatedly as I hauled my ill-rested butt up what was a very easy initial ascent. I've seldom been in worse shape for a hike.
In addition to having a very shallow grade, the trail was covered in leaves packed well enough to not be slippery. Neither the many roots on the trail nor the rocks at the stream crossings were slippery, either. The yellow blazes were plentiful and easy to spot. Until the upper reaches of the trail, all blowdowns were minor or or well cleared.
This hike was peculiar in that it went from very easy to very challenging rapidly, around 1.75 miles. Posters here had written that there were "difficult sections of large icy slabs," but to my surprise, we came across large difficult sections of large icy slabs. I've always disagreed with the saying that "experience is the best teacher." Revelation should be the best teacher, because it spares you the pain of experience, which generally teaches by knocking you on your bum. Now I understand why the saying goes that way. It's easy to think you understand a revelation; it's impossible to ignore experience.
In any case, I was surprised by how suddenly and completely the ice came up, at times in large cascades, and I was also surprised by how difficult it was to cross. Neither of us was wearing traction aids (yet), so the going was slow. Handholds were essential and, for the most part, available. But in a few spots I was surprised to find that they were out of my reach. I'm not short: 5'9" with a reach of somebody 5'8". So a shorter person might want to have another plan for those few places. I got a hand up from J, who was able to reach solid handholds at all times. Somebody else might find poles helpful, though I loathe the things and so don't have a personal sense of how well they'd work.
In most places, hugging the sides of the trail provided enough traction. In the final steep sections, though, it was a matter of kicking your toes into any snowy bits and inching up in the middle while clinging the sides. This was true even without solid ice because the snow was granular -- the kind that glazes over fast in the barest hint of sun.
For the last half-mile, the wind picked up lightly but without reaching us in the trees. There were two blowdowns to crawl under and one in the last quarter-mile that was more confusing. It was downed along with a large portion of its root-ball, obscuring the trail. Moreover, this was in a clearing big enough and bright enough to be the summit. (The tree also obscured the gradual climb beyond.) We briefly thought this might be the end. Fortunately, it didn't take us long to spot faint footprints where others had skirted the blowdown.
The final stretch was still protected from the wind, still warm, and significantly less treacherous. Though the summit itself didn't have great views, there were phenomenal views on the way up, including one very close to the summit -- to the right and up just a few feet from the trail. The books assured us that the view would be "coniferous" and otherwise extremely limited, but we found that not to be the case. Perhaps it helped that I had to stop often to find better footing or handholds, which gave us an opportunity to turn around and notice the long, clear vistas.
On the way down, I used J's micro-spikes. (This reserves for me a special place in hell where they put hikers who mooch off the more well-prepared.) They were a few sizes too big but still workable, and they made a tremendous difference. This will surprise nobody. But I'd only ever used traction aids while running on frozen rivers. I didn't know how well they'd do on an incline and on iced-over rocks. Turns out that the answer is: very damn well indeed! It is that help alone that enabled me to get down the icy bits fast enough. Though the hike was only 5.6 miles round trip, we'd started so late that it was nearly sunset by the time we returned to the trailhead. 16:21. And within 20 minutes, it was dark.
I imagine that this would be a winter hike many start and many end prematurely. I wasn't entirely prepared (lacking only the spikes), but my terror was instructive.
Trail Conditions: packed leaves and light snow until about 1.75 mi; then steep and icy; three uncleared but navigable blowdowns.
Weather Conditions: about 45 degrees all the way; no wind until the top, where it's mostly blocked; no precipitation.
Equipment: microspikes on the way down.
11 November 2012
11:45 - 16:21
Hiking Mt. Jackson last weekend was a great introduction to wintry conditions. My hiking companion (J) and I picked the Osceolas as another one good for beginners. We nearly didn't head out at all. After an unexpectedly late Saturday party, a fitful night of little sleep, and a sore throat in the morning, I wasn't in the mood for elevation gains and snow. J was iffy, too, so we ended up playing hiking chicken for a couple of hours. Who would bail first? Neither, it turns out. Pride is a powerful thing. But by that point, it was clear that we'd only get one peak, if that. Happily, I realized at the end of the day that even with additional time, both Osceolas would have been ambitious for new winter hikers. My dithering didn't cost us a peak after all.
We also had a tough time picking a trail. A friend had told us that Tripoli was by far the easier, but it was also longer and we were getting such a late start. Based on trip reports here and notes in the AMC books, it looked like either trail could have very icy bits. We settled on Greeley Pond Trail purely for the shorter distance and reached the trailhead at the scandalous hour of 11:45. The parking lot was full, yet we saw few hikers all day. The first 1.5mi would be accessible to almost any beginner in almost any conditions, as long as you knew where the trail went. Still, poor J had to pause repeatedly as I hauled my ill-rested butt up what was a very easy initial ascent. I've seldom been in worse shape for a hike.
In addition to having a very shallow grade, the trail was covered in leaves packed well enough to not be slippery. Neither the many roots on the trail nor the rocks at the stream crossings were slippery, either. The yellow blazes were plentiful and easy to spot. Until the upper reaches of the trail, all blowdowns were minor or or well cleared.
This hike was peculiar in that it went from very easy to very challenging rapidly, around 1.75 miles. Posters here had written that there were "difficult sections of large icy slabs," but to my surprise, we came across large difficult sections of large icy slabs. I've always disagreed with the saying that "experience is the best teacher." Revelation should be the best teacher, because it spares you the pain of experience, which generally teaches by knocking you on your bum. Now I understand why the saying goes that way. It's easy to think you understand a revelation; it's impossible to ignore experience.
In any case, I was surprised by how suddenly and completely the ice came up, at times in large cascades, and I was also surprised by how difficult it was to cross. Neither of us was wearing traction aids (yet), so the going was slow. Handholds were essential and, for the most part, available. But in a few spots I was surprised to find that they were out of my reach. I'm not short: 5'9" with a reach of somebody 5'8". So a shorter person might want to have another plan for those few places. I got a hand up from J, who was able to reach solid handholds at all times. Somebody else might find poles helpful, though I loathe the things and so don't have a personal sense of how well they'd work.
In most places, hugging the sides of the trail provided enough traction. In the final steep sections, though, it was a matter of kicking your toes into any snowy bits and inching up in the middle while clinging the sides. This was true even without solid ice because the snow was granular -- the kind that glazes over fast in the barest hint of sun.
For the last half-mile, the wind picked up lightly but without reaching us in the trees. There were two blowdowns to crawl under and one in the last quarter-mile that was more confusing. It was downed along with a large portion of its root-ball, obscuring the trail. Moreover, this was in a clearing big enough and bright enough to be the summit. (The tree also obscured the gradual climb beyond.) We briefly thought this might be the end. Fortunately, it didn't take us long to spot faint footprints where others had skirted the blowdown.
The final stretch was still protected from the wind, still warm, and significantly less treacherous. Though the summit itself didn't have great views, there were phenomenal views on the way up, including one very close to the summit -- to the right and up just a few feet from the trail. The books assured us that the view would be "coniferous" and otherwise extremely limited, but we found that not to be the case. Perhaps it helped that I had to stop often to find better footing or handholds, which gave us an opportunity to turn around and notice the long, clear vistas.
On the way down, I used J's micro-spikes. (This reserves for me a special place in hell where they put hikers who mooch off the more well-prepared.) They were a few sizes too big but still workable, and they made a tremendous difference. This will surprise nobody. But I'd only ever used traction aids while running on frozen rivers. I didn't know how well they'd do on an incline and on iced-over rocks. Turns out that the answer is: very damn well indeed! It is that help alone that enabled me to get down the icy bits fast enough. Though the hike was only 5.6 miles round trip, we'd started so late that it was nearly sunset by the time we returned to the trailhead. 16:21. And within 20 minutes, it was dark.
I imagine that this would be a winter hike many start and many end prematurely. I wasn't entirely prepared (lacking only the spikes), but my terror was instructive.
