McRat
New member
This was originally supposed to be a NE4K or NEHH trip report, but given the poor weather forecasts all week, we decided to storm the REI garage sale, a flag-less stone tower, and the nearest state highpoint.
The crew had assembled at REI in Reading for the garage sale and a test of wills. At least a hundred people were waiting in the morning mist for the doors to be opened and bargains to be had. When they did, a scene similar to the Filene's Basement bridal gown sale ensued as people from all walks of life scrambled to gather the orphaned returns of our fellow hikers.
We all managed to escape unscathed with bargains in hand as we hit the road under unexpectedly clearing skies. For a peak as difficult as a state highpoint, I was pleased to see the team survive this high pressure situation.
Taking advantage of the improving weather, we stopped by Bear Hill in the Middlesex Fells Reservation. Conditions were hazy, but the silhouette of the Boston skyline was visible, and conditions pleasant. I began wondering if the forecasted rain would arrive or if there was any up north.
We were physically and mentally prepared for our journey. We dropped off our loot at Den's house and prepared to carpool. We were unable to locate an oxygen tank at his house, and decided that we would take the risk of ascending without it. We knew we had to leave now to take advantage of the weather window, but nutrition was vital. A quick lunch at Blue Ribbon BBQ and we were on our way.
Gone was the tedium of travelling Rt 93! We were experiencing the new tedium of 95 southbound. Such new billboards and amusing exits and splits in the road, the time flew by as we relished the views and each others company.
By the time we arrived in Providence, R.I. and onto Rt. 6, the skies were even clearer and temperatures were approaching 70 degrees. The windows were down, and soon the scenery improved as we passed through old villages, farms, rolling hills and ponds. We got to enjoy some of these twice, as my navigation skills sent us on a delightful 10 mile detour highlighting the final miles of Route 6W to the State-Line Diner.
Before long we had backtracked and found the lost herd path known locally as 'Route 101'.
The anticipatinon built as we ascended the rolling hills until at last the sign appeared on the road. We pulled the car over to the side of the road and stood by the sign.
For several years, this was as close to the summit as many people got. There were disputes with the property owner that got fairly ugly; and people who had summitted McKinley found themselves denied the actual Rhode Island highpoint.
Den, Brian and Jen had geared up and we looked across the street in awe-filled reverance and gratitude for the chance to go where so many had tried and been denied. I whistled the theme music to 'Frogger' as I crossed Route 101.
Owners and situations have changed. The Mosleys have allowed visitation within reasonable hours and there is even a pleasant white-gravel strewn trail through the pines adding a mystical sense of something special being down the trail. We shouted our thanks to the owner as we passed by. Soon civilization was behind us.
Just off in the trees is a summit marker from 1968, marking the summit of Jerimoth. We cheered in elation until we discovered the trail went further into the darkest woods - we stopped here for a moment to acclimate before pushing further.
Shortly up the trail there is another spur, to another benchmark, also from 1968. Yet still, the trail and signage suggested it was further. "Madness", you say? Madness? THIS ISN'T MADNESS. THIS IS JERIMOTH HILL!
As we gained altitude, the lower oxygen made us delerious. Had we not already summited this at the road, and twice down the trail?? Yet we must still travel on. At this point we weren't thinking about the effort, our safety, or even our chances of success - but lingered in that trance-like state of putting one foot in front of the other when all common sense screams at you to turn back.
There it stood before us, a clearing with a half buried bolder, a small cairn, and a cheerful mailbox with a register. Slowly I crawled up the final ascent and stood atop the third and final summit - I was touching the void - Rhode Island style.
We were all kind of emotional, realizing that we were the highest people in the state of Rhode Island - quite a statement in and of itself. We stumbled back to the car, giddy with accomplishment and a creeping dread that we might have missed a bluebird day in the 'Whites.
The GPS readings estimate the total trip as 0.46 miles round trip, with about 10 feet of elevation gain. Though a small trip on paper, it does take a toll on you physically, emotionally, and even spiritually. I suppose that is why Providence has so many massage parlors, though we did not have time to investigate further.
This experience was life changing. I think it is safe to say that none of the Jerimoth Hill expedition 2008 crew will ever look down on great state of Rhode Island again.
The crew had assembled at REI in Reading for the garage sale and a test of wills. At least a hundred people were waiting in the morning mist for the doors to be opened and bargains to be had. When they did, a scene similar to the Filene's Basement bridal gown sale ensued as people from all walks of life scrambled to gather the orphaned returns of our fellow hikers.
We all managed to escape unscathed with bargains in hand as we hit the road under unexpectedly clearing skies. For a peak as difficult as a state highpoint, I was pleased to see the team survive this high pressure situation.
Taking advantage of the improving weather, we stopped by Bear Hill in the Middlesex Fells Reservation. Conditions were hazy, but the silhouette of the Boston skyline was visible, and conditions pleasant. I began wondering if the forecasted rain would arrive or if there was any up north.
We were physically and mentally prepared for our journey. We dropped off our loot at Den's house and prepared to carpool. We were unable to locate an oxygen tank at his house, and decided that we would take the risk of ascending without it. We knew we had to leave now to take advantage of the weather window, but nutrition was vital. A quick lunch at Blue Ribbon BBQ and we were on our way.
Gone was the tedium of travelling Rt 93! We were experiencing the new tedium of 95 southbound. Such new billboards and amusing exits and splits in the road, the time flew by as we relished the views and each others company.
By the time we arrived in Providence, R.I. and onto Rt. 6, the skies were even clearer and temperatures were approaching 70 degrees. The windows were down, and soon the scenery improved as we passed through old villages, farms, rolling hills and ponds. We got to enjoy some of these twice, as my navigation skills sent us on a delightful 10 mile detour highlighting the final miles of Route 6W to the State-Line Diner.
Before long we had backtracked and found the lost herd path known locally as 'Route 101'.
The anticipatinon built as we ascended the rolling hills until at last the sign appeared on the road. We pulled the car over to the side of the road and stood by the sign.
For several years, this was as close to the summit as many people got. There were disputes with the property owner that got fairly ugly; and people who had summitted McKinley found themselves denied the actual Rhode Island highpoint.
Den, Brian and Jen had geared up and we looked across the street in awe-filled reverance and gratitude for the chance to go where so many had tried and been denied. I whistled the theme music to 'Frogger' as I crossed Route 101.
Owners and situations have changed. The Mosleys have allowed visitation within reasonable hours and there is even a pleasant white-gravel strewn trail through the pines adding a mystical sense of something special being down the trail. We shouted our thanks to the owner as we passed by. Soon civilization was behind us.
Just off in the trees is a summit marker from 1968, marking the summit of Jerimoth. We cheered in elation until we discovered the trail went further into the darkest woods - we stopped here for a moment to acclimate before pushing further.
Shortly up the trail there is another spur, to another benchmark, also from 1968. Yet still, the trail and signage suggested it was further. "Madness", you say? Madness? THIS ISN'T MADNESS. THIS IS JERIMOTH HILL!
As we gained altitude, the lower oxygen made us delerious. Had we not already summited this at the road, and twice down the trail?? Yet we must still travel on. At this point we weren't thinking about the effort, our safety, or even our chances of success - but lingered in that trance-like state of putting one foot in front of the other when all common sense screams at you to turn back.
There it stood before us, a clearing with a half buried bolder, a small cairn, and a cheerful mailbox with a register. Slowly I crawled up the final ascent and stood atop the third and final summit - I was touching the void - Rhode Island style.
We were all kind of emotional, realizing that we were the highest people in the state of Rhode Island - quite a statement in and of itself. We stumbled back to the car, giddy with accomplishment and a creeping dread that we might have missed a bluebird day in the 'Whites.
The GPS readings estimate the total trip as 0.46 miles round trip, with about 10 feet of elevation gain. Though a small trip on paper, it does take a toll on you physically, emotionally, and even spiritually. I suppose that is why Providence has so many massage parlors, though we did not have time to investigate further.
This experience was life changing. I think it is safe to say that none of the Jerimoth Hill expedition 2008 crew will ever look down on great state of Rhode Island again.
