I was carefully watching the water levels in the area as the major rivers were rather swollen. The Pemi in Lincoln spike up over Saturday/Sunday but went back down almost as fast. By late Sunday, it looked like the crossings would not be a problem (they weren't). I got an IM response to my Hancocks request from a recent discoverer of VFTT, Rob L, and his canine friends Carter and Tuck. We met in Concord and carpooled to the hairpin lot where we found two other guys in a Jeep gearing up to go. The lot is in pretty bad shape with 8+ inch deep frozen slush ruts throughout, but we managed to squeeze in beside the Jeep. By 8:45 we were off on the Hancock Notch Trail bare-booting across the crust bound for Cedar Brook. A lone skier had gone the .6 miles to the first crossing. The Hancock Notch Trail is mostly flat and winds its way through some nice open woods comprised largely of firs and birches until meeting up with the Cedar Brook Trail. The four crossings were all easily stepped over. The sign was slightly above the snow (I've heard that all the signs have 'raised up' in the past two weeks due to melting and rain.)
Forty-five minutes later we had reached Cedar Brook Trail, which is famous for having six [five in older WMG editions] brook crossings. Four were unremarkable -- one can step across or there was an intact snow bridge. The other two had rocks poking up to facilitate easy crossings. While not as flat as the Hancock Notch Trail, the elevation gained along here is also not substantial. The trail does alternate between open sections, logging roads and other logging remnants, and some tighter fir and spruce tunnels. Thirty more minutes and the Hancock Loop Trail appeared on the right.
The Hancock Loop Trail continues to gain elevation at a modest rate. Thirty minutes later we reached the loop split. The guys we met at the parking lot asked which way we were going (North) and it looked like fresh tracks went up South first. We continued to the left (North) as planned. After the final stream crossing, the trail pitches up sharply. Here we stopped to put on traction. I used my Grivel G10 crampons and Rob wore snowshoes. Both worked well, although the shoes needed to deliberately planted. As the trail went up, we noticed an increase in falled spruce tips, mostly encased in ice. This gave the trail somewhat of a slide effect as the icy tidbits slid downward beneath our feet. Occasionally a larger branch or entire tree was down across the trail. The last .2 miles flatten out a bit and limited views can be had through the scrub.
Sixty-five minutes passed on the ascent to North Hancock (two hours and forty-five minutes from the trailhead) and suddenly we were on top. I've looked at some summer photos and the sign on the summit, at the level of my hand, is above the heads of full-grown adults standing beside the cairn. All four of us stopped and had our first lunch. South Hancock, Hitchcock, and the Osceolas were visible to the south, and a band of Carrigain, between the ridge and clouds, showed to the north. The forecast for the valleys was spot on - partly sunny with increasing clouds. Up top, the summits were in thin clouds with very light flurries, and no wind. Not even enough to blow the flurries around. It was almost eerily silent. Having fueled up we set off across the ridge to South Hancock.
The trip across to South Hancock found the trail a bit tricky to follow in places. Despite being in Wilderness, there were enough yellow blazes to ease routefinding - sort of. The average blaze was about knee high (eye level for the dogs) and I'd guess some were completely buried. The wind had filled in any sign of the track, but when on the track, you stayed on top, Venturing astray led to thigh-deep postholes. We encountered our fellow hikers from the parking lot about half way across. We each silently hoped the other had removed at least some of the ice-laden spruce branches slowing the way. That turned out to be wishful thinking as we were reduced to join the naturally four-legged and crawl on hands and knees through a few sections. This 1.3 mile stretch took about seventy-five minutes. While the high snow made travel difficult, it also boosted us above the scrub so we were able to catch occasional views to North Hancock and its Arrow Slide, Carrigain, and Chocorua.
We stopped only briefly on South Hancock. The trail to the outlook was not even slightly inviting. I was looking forward to buttsliding down from South but due to the branches, twigs, and ice chunks I thought the better of it. Speed control would have been very difficult. Despite descending on foot, the forty minute or so went quickly and we closed the loop. From there, it was an hour and half back to the trailhead.
These make all-season numbers 33 and 34 and winter 8 and 9.
All photos:
Tim
Forty-five minutes later we had reached Cedar Brook Trail, which is famous for having six [five in older WMG editions] brook crossings. Four were unremarkable -- one can step across or there was an intact snow bridge. The other two had rocks poking up to facilitate easy crossings. While not as flat as the Hancock Notch Trail, the elevation gained along here is also not substantial. The trail does alternate between open sections, logging roads and other logging remnants, and some tighter fir and spruce tunnels. Thirty more minutes and the Hancock Loop Trail appeared on the right.
The Hancock Loop Trail continues to gain elevation at a modest rate. Thirty minutes later we reached the loop split. The guys we met at the parking lot asked which way we were going (North) and it looked like fresh tracks went up South first. We continued to the left (North) as planned. After the final stream crossing, the trail pitches up sharply. Here we stopped to put on traction. I used my Grivel G10 crampons and Rob wore snowshoes. Both worked well, although the shoes needed to deliberately planted. As the trail went up, we noticed an increase in falled spruce tips, mostly encased in ice. This gave the trail somewhat of a slide effect as the icy tidbits slid downward beneath our feet. Occasionally a larger branch or entire tree was down across the trail. The last .2 miles flatten out a bit and limited views can be had through the scrub.
Sixty-five minutes passed on the ascent to North Hancock (two hours and forty-five minutes from the trailhead) and suddenly we were on top. I've looked at some summer photos and the sign on the summit, at the level of my hand, is above the heads of full-grown adults standing beside the cairn. All four of us stopped and had our first lunch. South Hancock, Hitchcock, and the Osceolas were visible to the south, and a band of Carrigain, between the ridge and clouds, showed to the north. The forecast for the valleys was spot on - partly sunny with increasing clouds. Up top, the summits were in thin clouds with very light flurries, and no wind. Not even enough to blow the flurries around. It was almost eerily silent. Having fueled up we set off across the ridge to South Hancock.
The trip across to South Hancock found the trail a bit tricky to follow in places. Despite being in Wilderness, there were enough yellow blazes to ease routefinding - sort of. The average blaze was about knee high (eye level for the dogs) and I'd guess some were completely buried. The wind had filled in any sign of the track, but when on the track, you stayed on top, Venturing astray led to thigh-deep postholes. We encountered our fellow hikers from the parking lot about half way across. We each silently hoped the other had removed at least some of the ice-laden spruce branches slowing the way. That turned out to be wishful thinking as we were reduced to join the naturally four-legged and crawl on hands and knees through a few sections. This 1.3 mile stretch took about seventy-five minutes. While the high snow made travel difficult, it also boosted us above the scrub so we were able to catch occasional views to North Hancock and its Arrow Slide, Carrigain, and Chocorua.
We stopped only briefly on South Hancock. The trail to the outlook was not even slightly inviting. I was looking forward to buttsliding down from South but due to the branches, twigs, and ice chunks I thought the better of it. Speed control would have been very difficult. Despite descending on foot, the forty minute or so went quickly and we closed the loop. From there, it was an hour and half back to the trailhead.
These make all-season numbers 33 and 34 and winter 8 and 9.
All photos:
Tim
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