coldmountain
New member
Sometimes, I think, when things arent going the way you'd like, it becomes important to get out there and let a mountain tell you whats up.
Tuesday morning broke reluctantly and in small parts. Fog and clouds all the way up 93 into the notch. I parked in the Tram lot and took off up the Kinsman Ridge Trail before I could change my mind.
I had roughly 4 1/2 hours before I had to be at a meeting at work. I was already dreading it and thinking about it and my troubles closer to home as I got to the business of climbing into the foggy hillside muttering away;Stupid trail, stupid idea stupid weather and so on and so forth. Up past the cliffs and up past that little dip into a bog. I didnt even look up until I hit the Rim trail. I realized that it was just after 9 and an hour and twenty minutes had passed and I couldnt really account for it. Just wet leaves on stone, fog and angst.
I made my way to the usual landmarks on top of Cannon. Id stop and observe at the tram station and then on to the skilift. Pausing and walking slowly like I was with a tour group only I could see. Nodding courteously in the fog. I made my way to a sheltered little bench area back down near my trail and put a layer on and......just grocked. I observed the power of silence. Both from the mountain and myself.
Solutions will come.
I came to and scampered down the way I came.This time paying some attention to my surroundings. The fog had lifted a bit and I could see across to Franconia Ridge.
I know this isnt much of a trip report in the classical sense. (OK K-Ridge trail is short, eroded down low, steep in places and watch out for wet leaves on slabs) We all go to the mountains for different reasons. But all those reasons rhyme. Mornings like that remind me how lucky we are to live in proximity to such a powerfully beautiful area.
Ive been on Cannon a few times before. Its a fantastic vantage point in many directions. But its funny how far you can see when the visibility is only about 50 feet.
Tuesday morning broke reluctantly and in small parts. Fog and clouds all the way up 93 into the notch. I parked in the Tram lot and took off up the Kinsman Ridge Trail before I could change my mind.
I had roughly 4 1/2 hours before I had to be at a meeting at work. I was already dreading it and thinking about it and my troubles closer to home as I got to the business of climbing into the foggy hillside muttering away;Stupid trail, stupid idea stupid weather and so on and so forth. Up past the cliffs and up past that little dip into a bog. I didnt even look up until I hit the Rim trail. I realized that it was just after 9 and an hour and twenty minutes had passed and I couldnt really account for it. Just wet leaves on stone, fog and angst.
I made my way to the usual landmarks on top of Cannon. Id stop and observe at the tram station and then on to the skilift. Pausing and walking slowly like I was with a tour group only I could see. Nodding courteously in the fog. I made my way to a sheltered little bench area back down near my trail and put a layer on and......just grocked. I observed the power of silence. Both from the mountain and myself.
Solutions will come.
I came to and scampered down the way I came.This time paying some attention to my surroundings. The fog had lifted a bit and I could see across to Franconia Ridge.
I know this isnt much of a trip report in the classical sense. (OK K-Ridge trail is short, eroded down low, steep in places and watch out for wet leaves on slabs) We all go to the mountains for different reasons. But all those reasons rhyme. Mornings like that remind me how lucky we are to live in proximity to such a powerfully beautiful area.
Ive been on Cannon a few times before. Its a fantastic vantage point in many directions. But its funny how far you can see when the visibility is only about 50 feet.
