Jacob
New member
Thanks to Neil, RiseAboveHiker and Raymond for the info on the Sewards.
Leaving Boston late on Saturday, I arrived at the trailhead by about 7:30 PM. After a quick, mostly dry hike to the campsite just past the junction with the truck road, I got into my bivy bag to enjoy what I thought would be a relaxing night of quiet and solitude.
Before I go on, there are a couple of things that you need to know about me. First, I sleep like the dead. I pass out almost immediately until I'm awakened. Once I woke up in a four inch deep puddle whose making didn't cause me to stir. Second, I can get some pretty terrific gas. Usually when I'm hiking with others I refrain a bit from foods like beef jerky which have, on occassion, caused such severe "wind" that people have gagged. This being a solo hike, I loaded up on all of these foods excited at the fact that I could eat what I wanted without losing hiking partners.
So here's the scenario; I fall dead asleep in my bivy bag, with a bit of sympatex over my face. I'm not moving at all, and the smell coming from my bag is probably reminiscent of a month-old bag of garbage. In the middle of the night I am awakened from my sound sleep by an unusual pressure on my forehead. It was similar to having a dog sniff at you, but was rather large and unsettling. There was a large muzzle brushing against me making loud sniffing noises. A good bit of pressure was exerted. There was either a massive wild mastiff or a bear checking me out to see if I was indeed the rustling bag of aged garbage that I smelled like.
Waking up to this was a bit odd. My feet jerked in an odd sort of jumping motion while I uttered a noise that was 1/3 growl, 1/3 "Holy S**t!," and 1/3 girlish sceam. My "investigator" gave a deep huffing noise and ran away. After my heart rate settled a bit I went back to sleep.
Sunday dawned a bit cool, and I started hiking. The directions I recieved were perfect. The herd path was mostly dry and easy to follow, all the up to the blow down area at the top of Calkins Brook. The snow and ice started a little bit above here, and the path was mostly easy to follow until I hit the ridge line. The wind was blowing pretty hard, there was rime ice everywhere, and I kept getting pelted with a mix of ice and rain. The conditions were pretty bad up here; the surface was somewhat rotten and the herd path was virtually invisible at times. I lost it a couple of times and did a good bit of slow bushwhacking until I made it over to Emmons and back.
Initially I was going to do all of the Sewards, but my unfamiliarity with the area and the degrading weather made me decide that I should be happy with two peaks. After a lot of searching I re-found the herd path and went back down Calkins Brook. Since I was postholing with snowshoes on and slipping on wet ice, I think I'll wait a few weeks to get in my last four of the 46.
Despite my nocturnal visitor and the poor hiking conditions it was a beautiful weekend to be out and an exciting trip.
Leaving Boston late on Saturday, I arrived at the trailhead by about 7:30 PM. After a quick, mostly dry hike to the campsite just past the junction with the truck road, I got into my bivy bag to enjoy what I thought would be a relaxing night of quiet and solitude.
Before I go on, there are a couple of things that you need to know about me. First, I sleep like the dead. I pass out almost immediately until I'm awakened. Once I woke up in a four inch deep puddle whose making didn't cause me to stir. Second, I can get some pretty terrific gas. Usually when I'm hiking with others I refrain a bit from foods like beef jerky which have, on occassion, caused such severe "wind" that people have gagged. This being a solo hike, I loaded up on all of these foods excited at the fact that I could eat what I wanted without losing hiking partners.
So here's the scenario; I fall dead asleep in my bivy bag, with a bit of sympatex over my face. I'm not moving at all, and the smell coming from my bag is probably reminiscent of a month-old bag of garbage. In the middle of the night I am awakened from my sound sleep by an unusual pressure on my forehead. It was similar to having a dog sniff at you, but was rather large and unsettling. There was a large muzzle brushing against me making loud sniffing noises. A good bit of pressure was exerted. There was either a massive wild mastiff or a bear checking me out to see if I was indeed the rustling bag of aged garbage that I smelled like.
Waking up to this was a bit odd. My feet jerked in an odd sort of jumping motion while I uttered a noise that was 1/3 growl, 1/3 "Holy S**t!," and 1/3 girlish sceam. My "investigator" gave a deep huffing noise and ran away. After my heart rate settled a bit I went back to sleep.
Sunday dawned a bit cool, and I started hiking. The directions I recieved were perfect. The herd path was mostly dry and easy to follow, all the up to the blow down area at the top of Calkins Brook. The snow and ice started a little bit above here, and the path was mostly easy to follow until I hit the ridge line. The wind was blowing pretty hard, there was rime ice everywhere, and I kept getting pelted with a mix of ice and rain. The conditions were pretty bad up here; the surface was somewhat rotten and the herd path was virtually invisible at times. I lost it a couple of times and did a good bit of slow bushwhacking until I made it over to Emmons and back.
Initially I was going to do all of the Sewards, but my unfamiliarity with the area and the degrading weather made me decide that I should be happy with two peaks. After a lot of searching I re-found the herd path and went back down Calkins Brook. Since I was postholing with snowshoes on and slipping on wet ice, I think I'll wait a few weeks to get in my last four of the 46.
Despite my nocturnal visitor and the poor hiking conditions it was a beautiful weekend to be out and an exciting trip.
Imagine his surprise when you started to move and scream!
