JohnL
New member
Rte 302 south of Twin Mountain was in thick ground fog and as I passed the Mt Washington Hotel I could see that the Southern Presidential summits were engulfed in ground clouds as well. The thermometer read an even 40 degrees as I got started at 6:40AM on the Webster-Jackson Trail. The trail was wet, muddy and in many places I shared the trail with running water. The short side trail to Bugle Cliff was well worth the minimal effort as it afforded me fine views of the fog filled valley below.
I lingered at the cliff’s edge for a few minutes and took a half dozen photos before moving on. The small side streams along with Flume Cascade and Silver Cascade Brooks were brimming with water from the previous day’s rain and the small cataracts were enjoyable to watch and photograph. The trail at times was a runoff stream as well. I enjoyed the quiet walk up to Mt Jackson and chuckled as I passed Tisdale Spring, bubbling water up out of the ground like a broken water main and filling the trail with runoff.
A short while later I was scrambling up the summit slabs and I had the summit area to myself. I dropped my pack and spent some time taking photos and enjoying the solitude on the high ground. Heading off the summit, I spotted a circular lichen on the rocks and noted the similarity between it and a painted symbol near the summit of Mt Adams that I had photographed three years ago. Things that make you go Hmmmm.
The following stretch of trail probably has the highest PPM (puncheons per mile) factor in all of the Whites and I was grateful for that. The bog was desperately waiting for someone to step off of the bridge and get engulfed in the muck. I watched my step, took some photos and moved on.
Soon I started to hear voices and I knew that breakfast was finished at Mizpah and the crowds were out and about. I passed several large groups before stopping to chat with a couple AT southbounders just before I reached the hut. I passed right by the Hut as I continued on to Mt Pierce where I paused to enjoy the sights and the temporary quiet. The sky was absolutely cloudless and I could have held a match up without being blown out by the non-existent wind. It was one of those perfect days in the mountains.
The walk over to Eisenhower was pleasant and as I got higher on the Loop Trail, I continually turned around to enjoy a favorite view of mine. I took panoramas in several locations on the way up the trail to get slightly different aspects of the view and none of them disappointed me. When I reached the summit there were four other folks there and I dropped my small rocks at the summit cairn. When I solo hike, I have taken up the ritual of picking up a stone, half the size of my fist, at a low point along the trail and carrying it to the summit cairn. Partly to honor lost friends and loved ones and partly to take some of the mountain back to the top. I ate my sandwich as I watched the Cog smudge its way up the tracks, noting how the smoke hung in the Ammonoosuc and Burt Ravines.
I could have stayed there all afternoon but a commitment lured me back down. So at 10:30 I headed down, passing some of the folks I had passed on the way up along with some others. The Crawford Path was getting crowded on this fine day. I must have passed thirty more people, and one snarling dog, as I cruised down Crawford’s and it was no drier now than the other trails were on the way up. The foot placement node of the CPU in my head was on overdrive as I avoided the wet slanted rocks and at five minutes before noon I emerged from the woods to the zoo that is Crawford Notch on a beautiful day. There were cars parked along both sides of the road from Crawford Path all the way down to the Webster-Jackson trailhead. I boogied down the road to my car, ejected the boots, put on a clean cotton (aaahh!) shirt and cruised up 302 with Derek & the Dominoes filling the airwaves. Life is good today.
Photos are here.
JohnL
I lingered at the cliff’s edge for a few minutes and took a half dozen photos before moving on. The small side streams along with Flume Cascade and Silver Cascade Brooks were brimming with water from the previous day’s rain and the small cataracts were enjoyable to watch and photograph. The trail at times was a runoff stream as well. I enjoyed the quiet walk up to Mt Jackson and chuckled as I passed Tisdale Spring, bubbling water up out of the ground like a broken water main and filling the trail with runoff.
A short while later I was scrambling up the summit slabs and I had the summit area to myself. I dropped my pack and spent some time taking photos and enjoying the solitude on the high ground. Heading off the summit, I spotted a circular lichen on the rocks and noted the similarity between it and a painted symbol near the summit of Mt Adams that I had photographed three years ago. Things that make you go Hmmmm.
The following stretch of trail probably has the highest PPM (puncheons per mile) factor in all of the Whites and I was grateful for that. The bog was desperately waiting for someone to step off of the bridge and get engulfed in the muck. I watched my step, took some photos and moved on.
Soon I started to hear voices and I knew that breakfast was finished at Mizpah and the crowds were out and about. I passed several large groups before stopping to chat with a couple AT southbounders just before I reached the hut. I passed right by the Hut as I continued on to Mt Pierce where I paused to enjoy the sights and the temporary quiet. The sky was absolutely cloudless and I could have held a match up without being blown out by the non-existent wind. It was one of those perfect days in the mountains.
The walk over to Eisenhower was pleasant and as I got higher on the Loop Trail, I continually turned around to enjoy a favorite view of mine. I took panoramas in several locations on the way up the trail to get slightly different aspects of the view and none of them disappointed me. When I reached the summit there were four other folks there and I dropped my small rocks at the summit cairn. When I solo hike, I have taken up the ritual of picking up a stone, half the size of my fist, at a low point along the trail and carrying it to the summit cairn. Partly to honor lost friends and loved ones and partly to take some of the mountain back to the top. I ate my sandwich as I watched the Cog smudge its way up the tracks, noting how the smoke hung in the Ammonoosuc and Burt Ravines.
I could have stayed there all afternoon but a commitment lured me back down. So at 10:30 I headed down, passing some of the folks I had passed on the way up along with some others. The Crawford Path was getting crowded on this fine day. I must have passed thirty more people, and one snarling dog, as I cruised down Crawford’s and it was no drier now than the other trails were on the way up. The foot placement node of the CPU in my head was on overdrive as I avoided the wet slanted rocks and at five minutes before noon I emerged from the woods to the zoo that is Crawford Notch on a beautiful day. There were cars parked along both sides of the road from Crawford Path all the way down to the Webster-Jackson trailhead. I boogied down the road to my car, ejected the boots, put on a clean cotton (aaahh!) shirt and cruised up 302 with Derek & the Dominoes filling the airwaves. Life is good today.
Photos are here.
JohnL
