. . . or “A Beautiful 25 Mile Woods Walk”
. . . or “25 Miles of Black Flies and Mosquitos”
Our 25-mile trek on Saturday July 8 started before dawn and finished after dusk—traveling north to south, ending with the sun setting on one side of the trail as an almost full moon rose on the other.
We headed north on Friday night and spotted a car at the Waumbek trail head. Saturday morning, at 5 a.m. we started out from from the South Pond Recreation area, having parked outside the gate (which doesn’t open until 10 a.m.). (This added one mile to the 24.2 mile trail hike.)
Our only company at 5 a.m. was a Winter Wren, singing its raucous song—a reveille of sorts to get our hearts and spirits pumping. (We like to call this bird the Happy Bird, as its song is a cacophony of twitters and trills, sung rapid fire, as if it’s going to burst with the message of joy it brings.)
The actual trail begins at South Pond, which was heavily covered in fog. A family of geese, with goslings in tow, broke the surface of the water.
The first several miles ascend gently. We passed over some messy mud holes, and broken bog bridges. The trail eventually dried out as we climbed to Roger’s Ledge, 5.1 miles in. Here, on the open ledges, the sky had cleared, and the only remaining fog traced the waterways in the valley below. We looked out over the hills and over some of the terrain we would hike before the day was over.
From the ledges we dropped down and around and into a very lush forest. We met our first people of the day below the ledge, three guys who had spent the night out at a nearby campsite.
About 6.3 miles in we passed Kilback Pond and its surrounding bogs. What a beautiful area!! There were more shades of green through and around the bogs then could be imagined. The only interruption in the green came from the pink blossoms of Sheep Laurel shrubs.
Through this wet area we crossed over newer and sturdier bog bridges. Just before leaving these flats we crossed the outlet of one body of water where color popped up everywhere—bright yellow Bullhead Lily, blue-purple Wild Iris, and even a budding rose bush (Northeastern Rose). We regret only that we didn’t take the time to photograph them all.
The trail now climbed a dirt path, heavily grown in on the sides. Higher up, the trail continued steadily upward through beautiful open birch forest. The under story was dominated with ferns, especially Bracken Fern, which stood anywhere from knee high to shoulder high (depending on how tall you are of course).
The majority of the Kilkenny Ridge Trail travels over pleasant ground, dirt underfoot. The forests were mostly hardwood—with no shortage of open birch glades (due to fires many years ago). The rockiest stretches (which were quite good as White Mtn. trails go) were over Cabot, and later, down Starr King.
At mile 7.8 we stopped at Unknown Pond, a cool repose surrounded by Balsam Fir. We could see slight ripples on the water so we walked around the pond to that side to catch the little breeze. (It had turned into a much hotter and steamier day than the weather forecast had predicted.)
This was the busiest stretch of trail. As fate would have it, three parties of hikers all crossed the same intersection here at the same time; us, a group of four heading up Cabot, and a group of camper kids (a dozen or so).
Besides the abundance of birch and ferns, there was an abundance of bugs. There was, throughout the day, a humming or buzzing sound in and around our ears non stop. And all kinds of buzzing—barn flies, black flies, horse flies, house flies, and skeeters, made up the chorus. You can well imagine our ‘horror’ when we realized we were at the empty end of full of our can of bug dope.
We had left the pond and were on the ascent of Cabot when we caught up with two hikers, Mike and Karen, whom we had met briefly as part of that party of four at the Unknown Pond trail junction. We inquired of their bug dope supply. Mike shared his deet with us, a generous act, for which we were so grateful. Thank you Mike and Karen! It made a hot climb much more pleasant.
On the summit of Cabot we met another group of four. These would be the last people we would see on our trek. The next 15 miles were ours and ours alone.
Past the summit of Cabot but before the cabin, we stopped to check out a spring indicated by a sign, hoping to refill a couple of bottles. The trail to this spring drops rather steeply, through open woods. And it keeps dropping. And dropping. We never made it to the spring. While it was well marked (new axe blazes), we had no idea how far we’d drop or if we’d find water. So back up we came empty handed. Does anyone know how far down to the spring?
Our next stop was at the junction with Bunnell Notch trail. We then headed up North Terrace, recognizable as such only by the sign on the tree. The second summit, Terrace, (on a short spur) offered a nice of view of the peaks ahead. (We never did notice the heli-pad clearing the AMC guide refers to.)
From here the trail dropped easily to Willard Notch. We refilled and treated our bottles from the small brook. Two standing pools among the moss and rock provided plenty of water.
The Weeks—North, Middle and South--were next on the agenda. The trail route was well laid out, climbing with little effort (the benefit of a trail built in the 80’s—1980’s that is, meaning plenty of switchbacks). The summits were wooded but pleasant.
The trail guide refers to another spring, ‘unreliable’ just past North Weeks. We passed this one and it was running pretty well but looked ephemeral.
Leaving South Weeks it seemed we should arrive on Waumbek in no time at all. But the time of day, and miles traveled, can really alter a person’s perspective. This section, only 2.5 miles in length, seemed to go on forever. It was easy, though strewn with blow downs. (Blow downs were frequent over the Terraces and the Weeks, but all had well worn herd paths around them.) We were continually teased with rises that surely had to be the summit, but were not.
Peak baggers take note: We never located canisters on the summits of the Terraces or the Weeks. Checking past VFTT posts confirmed that the canisters had been removed.
Finally we came to Waumbek, stopping to smile and say cheese at the sign post, which marked the 20.6 miles (actually 21.6 miles) that we had already traveled.
With the light getting low, we made our way over to Starr King. Then down. Only 2.6 miles, but they felt like the longest all day. We soon recovered in town, with steak & cheese grinders and french fries. Life is good.
See the pictures here: http://community.webshots.com/album/552193205riLgyq
. . . or “25 Miles of Black Flies and Mosquitos”
Our 25-mile trek on Saturday July 8 started before dawn and finished after dusk—traveling north to south, ending with the sun setting on one side of the trail as an almost full moon rose on the other.
We headed north on Friday night and spotted a car at the Waumbek trail head. Saturday morning, at 5 a.m. we started out from from the South Pond Recreation area, having parked outside the gate (which doesn’t open until 10 a.m.). (This added one mile to the 24.2 mile trail hike.)
Our only company at 5 a.m. was a Winter Wren, singing its raucous song—a reveille of sorts to get our hearts and spirits pumping. (We like to call this bird the Happy Bird, as its song is a cacophony of twitters and trills, sung rapid fire, as if it’s going to burst with the message of joy it brings.)
The actual trail begins at South Pond, which was heavily covered in fog. A family of geese, with goslings in tow, broke the surface of the water.
The first several miles ascend gently. We passed over some messy mud holes, and broken bog bridges. The trail eventually dried out as we climbed to Roger’s Ledge, 5.1 miles in. Here, on the open ledges, the sky had cleared, and the only remaining fog traced the waterways in the valley below. We looked out over the hills and over some of the terrain we would hike before the day was over.
From the ledges we dropped down and around and into a very lush forest. We met our first people of the day below the ledge, three guys who had spent the night out at a nearby campsite.
About 6.3 miles in we passed Kilback Pond and its surrounding bogs. What a beautiful area!! There were more shades of green through and around the bogs then could be imagined. The only interruption in the green came from the pink blossoms of Sheep Laurel shrubs.
Through this wet area we crossed over newer and sturdier bog bridges. Just before leaving these flats we crossed the outlet of one body of water where color popped up everywhere—bright yellow Bullhead Lily, blue-purple Wild Iris, and even a budding rose bush (Northeastern Rose). We regret only that we didn’t take the time to photograph them all.
The trail now climbed a dirt path, heavily grown in on the sides. Higher up, the trail continued steadily upward through beautiful open birch forest. The under story was dominated with ferns, especially Bracken Fern, which stood anywhere from knee high to shoulder high (depending on how tall you are of course).
The majority of the Kilkenny Ridge Trail travels over pleasant ground, dirt underfoot. The forests were mostly hardwood—with no shortage of open birch glades (due to fires many years ago). The rockiest stretches (which were quite good as White Mtn. trails go) were over Cabot, and later, down Starr King.
At mile 7.8 we stopped at Unknown Pond, a cool repose surrounded by Balsam Fir. We could see slight ripples on the water so we walked around the pond to that side to catch the little breeze. (It had turned into a much hotter and steamier day than the weather forecast had predicted.)
This was the busiest stretch of trail. As fate would have it, three parties of hikers all crossed the same intersection here at the same time; us, a group of four heading up Cabot, and a group of camper kids (a dozen or so).
Besides the abundance of birch and ferns, there was an abundance of bugs. There was, throughout the day, a humming or buzzing sound in and around our ears non stop. And all kinds of buzzing—barn flies, black flies, horse flies, house flies, and skeeters, made up the chorus. You can well imagine our ‘horror’ when we realized we were at the empty end of full of our can of bug dope.
We had left the pond and were on the ascent of Cabot when we caught up with two hikers, Mike and Karen, whom we had met briefly as part of that party of four at the Unknown Pond trail junction. We inquired of their bug dope supply. Mike shared his deet with us, a generous act, for which we were so grateful. Thank you Mike and Karen! It made a hot climb much more pleasant.
On the summit of Cabot we met another group of four. These would be the last people we would see on our trek. The next 15 miles were ours and ours alone.
Past the summit of Cabot but before the cabin, we stopped to check out a spring indicated by a sign, hoping to refill a couple of bottles. The trail to this spring drops rather steeply, through open woods. And it keeps dropping. And dropping. We never made it to the spring. While it was well marked (new axe blazes), we had no idea how far we’d drop or if we’d find water. So back up we came empty handed. Does anyone know how far down to the spring?
Our next stop was at the junction with Bunnell Notch trail. We then headed up North Terrace, recognizable as such only by the sign on the tree. The second summit, Terrace, (on a short spur) offered a nice of view of the peaks ahead. (We never did notice the heli-pad clearing the AMC guide refers to.)
From here the trail dropped easily to Willard Notch. We refilled and treated our bottles from the small brook. Two standing pools among the moss and rock provided plenty of water.
The Weeks—North, Middle and South--were next on the agenda. The trail route was well laid out, climbing with little effort (the benefit of a trail built in the 80’s—1980’s that is, meaning plenty of switchbacks). The summits were wooded but pleasant.
The trail guide refers to another spring, ‘unreliable’ just past North Weeks. We passed this one and it was running pretty well but looked ephemeral.
Leaving South Weeks it seemed we should arrive on Waumbek in no time at all. But the time of day, and miles traveled, can really alter a person’s perspective. This section, only 2.5 miles in length, seemed to go on forever. It was easy, though strewn with blow downs. (Blow downs were frequent over the Terraces and the Weeks, but all had well worn herd paths around them.) We were continually teased with rises that surely had to be the summit, but were not.
Peak baggers take note: We never located canisters on the summits of the Terraces or the Weeks. Checking past VFTT posts confirmed that the canisters had been removed.
Finally we came to Waumbek, stopping to smile and say cheese at the sign post, which marked the 20.6 miles (actually 21.6 miles) that we had already traveled.
With the light getting low, we made our way over to Starr King. Then down. Only 2.6 miles, but they felt like the longest all day. We soon recovered in town, with steak & cheese grinders and french fries. Life is good.
See the pictures here: http://community.webshots.com/album/552193205riLgyq
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