Neil
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Well, now I know the best route from Moose Pond to the Erminebrook Slide and it isn’t what the guide book says. At dawn I was peddling my bicycle along the trail towards Camp Sanatanoni. Bikes are only allowed on the first 2.1 miles of trail, up until you get to the High Peaks Wilderness, but I highly recommend bringing one. After leaving the bike leaning up against a convenient tree I briskly hiked the next 6 miles to where the Erminebrook crosses. This is where you leave the trail. The guide book suggests following the south bank and rock hopping, going in and out of the stream bed which is a poor choice. Too many steep embankments/cliffs and on this day there was a lot of water in the creek. Anyway, unless it’s really thick in the bush I’ve always found rockhopping to be too tedious and slow.
(When I go back I’ll simply cut NE, leaving the creek and crossing diagonally to the slide base.)
Keeping a close eye on the time I ploughed through the bush having left the creek bed but always hearing the roar. I figured I had to be at my waypoint called “slide” by 11:30 so I bullied through the trees like a linebacker. I made it precisely on time but it wasn’t the slide. Rather, the creekbed opens up and makes it look like a slide when viewed with aerial photos. The going was slow due to lots of rubble and big wet rocks so I went back into the bush and kept pushing. And then I saw snow on the ground. Not much but I was only at about 2800 feet. The creek makes a 90 degree turn below the slide so I came out of the woods into the open again and decided to stick with the creek from now on. Besides, the banks were now high and steep and the going alongside the flow was smoother. The rock was very slippery and by noon I still wasn’t on the slide per se. At one point I looked up and saw that the whole mountain was white, all the conifers were coated with snow. The slide itself was visible and it too was snow covered and could barely be distinguished. It disappeared high above me into a thick layer of cloud. My gps put me 950 meters from the slide top, I figured an hour of treacherous footing then I would bushwhack back down. The big question was: did I really want to? I took stock of my position: I was soaked from head to toe and if all went well would get back to my car at 7:00, be home by 11 (and off to work the next morning). I had at least 1500 vertical feet of wet, snow covered rock above me and no views. Then, as if to say “get the hint?” more snow started falling.
At that point I remembered THISTurning back lifted a huge weight off my shoulders. I cut up the embankment and bushwhacked back down the first few hundred feet so as to avoid the slippery rock. The forest floor was white which made it easy to spot the openings.
Now that the pressure was off the day took on a whole new complexion, I decided to try the other bank on my way out and this proved to be way easier, especially getting about 100 feet away from the creek. The woods were fairly open and I was able to stroll along in what I call “philosopher mode” where you feel totally at one with life and every breath you take feels like your drawing the forest itself into your soul. Because the creek makes a (second ) 90 turn to the west I got the bright idea of cutting the corner when I remembered I had left my itinerary with my wife and that maybe solo bushwhackers should stick to their itineraries. So I kept the creek within earshot but stayed up fairly high. At one point I was drawn down to it and ended up walking a steep cross slope on slimy wet rocks covered and hidden by wet leaves. No philosophical hiking as I stumbled and cursed until climbing back up the bank. It was wonderful to slowly roam and wander my way back to the trail. I found a 5-star camping spot en route which I dutifully recorded in my gps.
Once on the trail I stopped and changed into dry clothing and cleaned the sticks and pine needles out of you-know-where before beginning the 2 hour march back to my bike. What was very strange was earlier in the day it seemed as if the trail was mostly uphill. Now, going the other way it seemed all uphill again. At one point along the trail I got views of Santanoni through the leafless trees and it was covered in snow, a beautiful sight. At the edge of the Wilderness Zone I picked up my bike and cruised rapidly, it was downhill almost the whole way back to the car. The only muscles I used were my forearms for braking!
So now I’ll be going back for a grudge match but I’ll wait for dry sunny weather.
(When I go back I’ll simply cut NE, leaving the creek and crossing diagonally to the slide base.)
Keeping a close eye on the time I ploughed through the bush having left the creek bed but always hearing the roar. I figured I had to be at my waypoint called “slide” by 11:30 so I bullied through the trees like a linebacker. I made it precisely on time but it wasn’t the slide. Rather, the creekbed opens up and makes it look like a slide when viewed with aerial photos. The going was slow due to lots of rubble and big wet rocks so I went back into the bush and kept pushing. And then I saw snow on the ground. Not much but I was only at about 2800 feet. The creek makes a 90 degree turn below the slide so I came out of the woods into the open again and decided to stick with the creek from now on. Besides, the banks were now high and steep and the going alongside the flow was smoother. The rock was very slippery and by noon I still wasn’t on the slide per se. At one point I looked up and saw that the whole mountain was white, all the conifers were coated with snow. The slide itself was visible and it too was snow covered and could barely be distinguished. It disappeared high above me into a thick layer of cloud. My gps put me 950 meters from the slide top, I figured an hour of treacherous footing then I would bushwhack back down. The big question was: did I really want to? I took stock of my position: I was soaked from head to toe and if all went well would get back to my car at 7:00, be home by 11 (and off to work the next morning). I had at least 1500 vertical feet of wet, snow covered rock above me and no views. Then, as if to say “get the hint?” more snow started falling.
At that point I remembered THISTurning back lifted a huge weight off my shoulders. I cut up the embankment and bushwhacked back down the first few hundred feet so as to avoid the slippery rock. The forest floor was white which made it easy to spot the openings.
Now that the pressure was off the day took on a whole new complexion, I decided to try the other bank on my way out and this proved to be way easier, especially getting about 100 feet away from the creek. The woods were fairly open and I was able to stroll along in what I call “philosopher mode” where you feel totally at one with life and every breath you take feels like your drawing the forest itself into your soul. Because the creek makes a (second ) 90 turn to the west I got the bright idea of cutting the corner when I remembered I had left my itinerary with my wife and that maybe solo bushwhackers should stick to their itineraries. So I kept the creek within earshot but stayed up fairly high. At one point I was drawn down to it and ended up walking a steep cross slope on slimy wet rocks covered and hidden by wet leaves. No philosophical hiking as I stumbled and cursed until climbing back up the bank. It was wonderful to slowly roam and wander my way back to the trail. I found a 5-star camping spot en route which I dutifully recorded in my gps.
Once on the trail I stopped and changed into dry clothing and cleaned the sticks and pine needles out of you-know-where before beginning the 2 hour march back to my bike. What was very strange was earlier in the day it seemed as if the trail was mostly uphill. Now, going the other way it seemed all uphill again. At one point along the trail I got views of Santanoni through the leafless trees and it was covered in snow, a beautiful sight. At the edge of the Wilderness Zone I picked up my bike and cruised rapidly, it was downhill almost the whole way back to the car. The only muscles I used were my forearms for braking!
So now I’ll be going back for a grudge match but I’ll wait for dry sunny weather.
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