JohnL
New member
6:30AM found me heading up the trail, 38 degrees, a slight wind that ceased once into the woods, and variable cloudiness. The Notch was socked in below 4000 feet so I expected to be in the soup once above treeline. I wore shorts and a T-shirt and the cool air forced my hands into my pockets as I made my way along the roaring brook. The trail was in good shape with only a few muddy places, which afforded me easy viewing of the abundant moose tracks in the soft ground. I also found myself numerous times on my hands and knees taking photos of the plentiful Lady Slippers and Blue Bead Lillies.
The steep stone staircase led away from the tumult of the brook and soon I was engulfed in the tranquility of the middle forest. The transitions from the hardwoods to the birches and then to the spruces were well pronounced and it was not too long before I could start to hear the drone of the winds above me.
As I made my way through the section that I call the enchanted forest, that area where the trees look half dead and they are draped with different types of hanging mosses, I noticed several thick white strands that at first I thought were fishing line. Upon closer look, they turned out to be fragments of spider webs. I had never seen any strands of spider web quite so thick. A few minutes later I happened upon a complete web which appeared as if it could catch small birds. Amazing stuff. I can only wonder what the spider looked like.
I now started to scramble up and over some boulders and I knew I was approaching the ridge. A glimpse up at a nearby tree that was coated in rime ice told me what to expect up above. I stopped to put on my light-weight goretex pants and jacket. My gloves turned out to have been left behind. Oh well, that’s what pockets are for.
At one point as I reached the scrub and krumholz, a large boulder dominated the trail ahead and I would have to scramble up and over it. The problem was is that it was coated in a thin layer of black water ice. To walk around this and into the bush would have been arduous and fraught with wear and tear on both the bushes and me. I managed to find a small patch on the top of the boulder that was covered in gravel and I grabbed a bush branch and launched myself over the ice boulder thinking "that’ll be fun on the way down".
A hundred yards later I was into the open and on the ridge. The views were minimal in all directions and least of all in the direction I was headed. Everything but the trail was covered in rime ice and the trail disappeared into the mists atop the nearest rise. I headed up, keeping my hands in my pockets as much as possible. Even so I was starting to feel the wood starting to take over my hands.
I reached the top of the first rise and did not recognize this as the top, and peering through the mists was just able to make out a dip in the trail and another rise ahead. I repeated this three or four more times until I spied the trail signs on the summit and only then did I know that I was at my turnaround point. My hands were seriously cold from the weather and the metal body of my camera but I was confident in getting back, even if the visibility deteriorated. I would, however, be heading into the wind.
I climbed up on the summit rocks, left a stone on the summit cairn that I had carried from down below, measured the temperature (23F) and wind speed (30-35 mph) and turned tail. I was not about to spend any more time than I needed to. The walk back to the Skook trail junction was a mixture of calm areas and fighting the headwind accompanied by whiteouts and sporadic crystal clear open vistas.
Getting back under the cover of the trees I stopped to remove my jacket and pants and I cruised on down the trail, meeting nine other people on their way up. I was back at my car at 11:00 sharp and my cold hands fumbled with my boot laces as I tried to get them off. I was glad when the car warmed up and the heater was blowing warm air on my hands.
Photos are here.
JohnL
The steep stone staircase led away from the tumult of the brook and soon I was engulfed in the tranquility of the middle forest. The transitions from the hardwoods to the birches and then to the spruces were well pronounced and it was not too long before I could start to hear the drone of the winds above me.
As I made my way through the section that I call the enchanted forest, that area where the trees look half dead and they are draped with different types of hanging mosses, I noticed several thick white strands that at first I thought were fishing line. Upon closer look, they turned out to be fragments of spider webs. I had never seen any strands of spider web quite so thick. A few minutes later I happened upon a complete web which appeared as if it could catch small birds. Amazing stuff. I can only wonder what the spider looked like.
I now started to scramble up and over some boulders and I knew I was approaching the ridge. A glimpse up at a nearby tree that was coated in rime ice told me what to expect up above. I stopped to put on my light-weight goretex pants and jacket. My gloves turned out to have been left behind. Oh well, that’s what pockets are for.
At one point as I reached the scrub and krumholz, a large boulder dominated the trail ahead and I would have to scramble up and over it. The problem was is that it was coated in a thin layer of black water ice. To walk around this and into the bush would have been arduous and fraught with wear and tear on both the bushes and me. I managed to find a small patch on the top of the boulder that was covered in gravel and I grabbed a bush branch and launched myself over the ice boulder thinking "that’ll be fun on the way down".
A hundred yards later I was into the open and on the ridge. The views were minimal in all directions and least of all in the direction I was headed. Everything but the trail was covered in rime ice and the trail disappeared into the mists atop the nearest rise. I headed up, keeping my hands in my pockets as much as possible. Even so I was starting to feel the wood starting to take over my hands.
I reached the top of the first rise and did not recognize this as the top, and peering through the mists was just able to make out a dip in the trail and another rise ahead. I repeated this three or four more times until I spied the trail signs on the summit and only then did I know that I was at my turnaround point. My hands were seriously cold from the weather and the metal body of my camera but I was confident in getting back, even if the visibility deteriorated. I would, however, be heading into the wind.
I climbed up on the summit rocks, left a stone on the summit cairn that I had carried from down below, measured the temperature (23F) and wind speed (30-35 mph) and turned tail. I was not about to spend any more time than I needed to. The walk back to the Skook trail junction was a mixture of calm areas and fighting the headwind accompanied by whiteouts and sporadic crystal clear open vistas.
Getting back under the cover of the trees I stopped to remove my jacket and pants and I cruised on down the trail, meeting nine other people on their way up. I was back at my car at 11:00 sharp and my cold hands fumbled with my boot laces as I tried to get them off. I was glad when the car warmed up and the heater was blowing warm air on my hands.
Photos are here.
JohnL
