Because it wouldn't be the same without a MichaelJ trip report 
The weekend started poorly as I got myself soaked to the skin trying to load up the car. The warm, pouring rain was coming down hard and it did not bode well for a weekend of camping and hiking. I had all my gear together in the hallway and it took six trips to get it into the car, after which I was dripping wet. I dried off and finally was on the road. Well, not quite. When my soaking wet body got into the car all the windows fogged up. It took another five minutes to clear up before I could drive off.
The further north I got, the more the rain tapered off. As I got to Franconia Notch I found the world frosted with white and the temperatures starting to drop. The roads were wet but fortunately not freezing yet. The worst conditions I encountered, in fact the only slippery conditions, were in the parking lot of the ranger station.
I finally arrived at the Barnes Field campground a few miles south of Gorham on Rte 16 approaching Pinkham Notch, where I bumped into a number of fellow hikers who directed me to an available campsite. And thus began the challenge of getting tent stakes into ice. Not snow, which would have been easy (I even have special snow anchors I could have used). This was just ice. If I hammered a stake in, it would pull right out. I had to use my ice axe to break things up, sink a stake in, then cover it and pack it until it held. This would eventually set rock-hard but proved a struggle during setup. As did trying to set up the new vestibule for my winter tent without reading the instructions. Oopsie.
It was at this point that I went to change out of my jeans and put on some warm clothes. I looked for the cloth bag that I knew held my fleece, all my long underwear, all my wool socks, and several changes of clothes for the weekend. I couldn't find it. I searched my memory and realized that when I set out all my clothes on my bed, one of my cats had hopped up on the pile and fallen asleep. Not having the heart to disturb her, I put off loading up the clothes. And later when I grabbed everything out of the hallway I left all those clothes on my bed.
At this point I had sunk about as far as I could. I wandered over to the group tent and downed a beer. Suggestions were made, including a run up to Wal-Mart. My salvation came in the form of Peak_bgr, who had brought a spare set of base layers and socks. I wouldn't have clean or dry clothes to change into, but at least I would be able to hike! After another beer and one of Shizzmac's superburgers I settled around the campfire as temperatures continued to drop. It wasn't that late before I headed off to prepare my gear for the next morning and get to bed.
After a great night's sleep, I woke up at 6:00am. It was still dark, but a lantern revealed I also had forgotten not only eating utensils, but in fact anything to eat for a proper breakfast. I did have pop-tarts, though, and I tossed them into a pocket.
We gathered at the north trailhead of the Imp Loop. The plan was to go head up over the Imp Face to the Carter ridge, and come back down over Middle and South Carter through Zeta Pass and out Nineteen-Mile Brook. I met a number of people who had come up just for the hike, including MEB, who I could have sworn I knew. It would be eight miles and seven hours later when I realized we had met the previous summer on the Osceolas. It's a small world, after all.
The route up the Imp Trail was very straightforward and not steep at all. The woods were generally bare, the trail a hardpack of ice. We wore our crampons right from the start. Most of us carried snowshoes but would never need them. On the way up, we spread out into three groups, the fast, middle, and slow. Hikethe115 and I established ourselves as the middle group, moving at a casual pace and talking up a storm. Well, I was, anyway. I can't seem to shut up when I'm hiking.
The day was beautiful - clear blue skies, little or no wind, and incredible views from the outlook on the Imp across to the Presidential range. We stopped for photos and a brief lunch before continuing along the edge of the ravine. We eventually came to the North Carter Trail, which would be the longest mile I've ever hiked. This trail just seemed to continue and continue far longer than it should have. Of course, it didn't help that Hikethe115's altimeter was off by 400 feet.
After we arrived at the ridgeline and the Carter-Moriah Trail, we stopped for a badly-needed lunch. Although the temperature was probably around 10 or 15, I was freezing; lacking appropriate levels of food in my body I just couldn't generate any heat. A ham and cheese sandwich was all I needed to load up on carbs, fats, and some protein and start feeling a thousand times better. We easily cruised up over some beautiful open viewpoints to the summit of Middle Carter.
From there it's an easy ridge walk with some easy ups and downs over to South Carter. Along the way we passed a group setting up a campsite in the flat, open woods near the summit. We both expressed our jealousy - what a fantastic spot to camp!
After tagging South Carter the lack of water I'd been drinking started to catch up to me in the form of cramping in the muscle to the outside of my quads (hip flexor? hip tensor?). I had my usual beverage with me, diluted Gatorade, so I had plenty of electrolytes available, but at this point I had to stop and drink more to try and prevent further pain. Muscle cramps while hiking can have very adverse affects further down the line.
It ended up feeling like a longer way across the ridge than it should have been (especially compared to last summer) but I did manage to keep going as everyone descended into Zeta Pass and then regrouped to head together down the Carter Dome Trail at high speed. Unfortunately, at this point Hikethe115 was having a terrible time walking, having gotten blisters dead-center on the balls of both feet. We took an extended stop at the junction with the Nineteen-Mile Brook Trail during which she unbooted and worked on her feet while a poorly-trained, poorly-behaving dog took off with MEB's glove.
We got everything together and cruised down the trail, arriving at the parking lot at 4:45. 10.8 miles, 3750', 8:30. After a ride back to the Imp trailhead to retrieve Hikethe115's car, we headed back to her condo in North Conway, where we met up with Nancy and HarryK. I am incredibly grateful for this trip, as not only was a hot shower wonderful, but Hikethe115 put our clothes in the drier; having only the one set of borrowed clothing, this was a blessing as I would not have to return to the campground wet.
We loaded up the car and headed back to the party, where everyone was enjoying incredible amounts of food and alcohol. After sating myself on both fronts, I collapsed into a chair by the huge, roaring campfire, tending it for a while. A winter campfire has some interesting side effects, including the incredibly dangerous ring of slippery ice that forms around it. Caution was required by all and several butts met the ground the hard way.
After being mesmerized by the fire for hours, at 1am I finally decided to head off to bed. I then learned quickly how much the alcohol had affected me, as I started shivering violently and uncontrollably as soon as I stepped away from the heat of the campfire. I also was not nearly sober enough to find the outhouse and then find my tent, and got very nervous at one point. But I'd be damned if I was going to be written up by Mohamed for something like this, and forced myself to find my site, crawled into my tent, and cranked my little propane heater until the shakes stopped and the sleeping bag was warm. I stripped, crawled in, killed the heater, and collapsed until the stupid alarm went off at 6am. After that I fell back asleep and didn't wake up until 8:30, the latest I have ever slept in a tent.
I got dressed, struck my tent, and helped clean up the main campsite. After a very yummy breakfast at Piccalilly's in North Conway, where I enjoyed biscuits and gravy with side of venison sausage, I cruised home with time to spare before watching the Patriots crush the Colts.
My photo album can be found here.
The weekend started poorly as I got myself soaked to the skin trying to load up the car. The warm, pouring rain was coming down hard and it did not bode well for a weekend of camping and hiking. I had all my gear together in the hallway and it took six trips to get it into the car, after which I was dripping wet. I dried off and finally was on the road. Well, not quite. When my soaking wet body got into the car all the windows fogged up. It took another five minutes to clear up before I could drive off.
The further north I got, the more the rain tapered off. As I got to Franconia Notch I found the world frosted with white and the temperatures starting to drop. The roads were wet but fortunately not freezing yet. The worst conditions I encountered, in fact the only slippery conditions, were in the parking lot of the ranger station.
I finally arrived at the Barnes Field campground a few miles south of Gorham on Rte 16 approaching Pinkham Notch, where I bumped into a number of fellow hikers who directed me to an available campsite. And thus began the challenge of getting tent stakes into ice. Not snow, which would have been easy (I even have special snow anchors I could have used). This was just ice. If I hammered a stake in, it would pull right out. I had to use my ice axe to break things up, sink a stake in, then cover it and pack it until it held. This would eventually set rock-hard but proved a struggle during setup. As did trying to set up the new vestibule for my winter tent without reading the instructions. Oopsie.
It was at this point that I went to change out of my jeans and put on some warm clothes. I looked for the cloth bag that I knew held my fleece, all my long underwear, all my wool socks, and several changes of clothes for the weekend. I couldn't find it. I searched my memory and realized that when I set out all my clothes on my bed, one of my cats had hopped up on the pile and fallen asleep. Not having the heart to disturb her, I put off loading up the clothes. And later when I grabbed everything out of the hallway I left all those clothes on my bed.
At this point I had sunk about as far as I could. I wandered over to the group tent and downed a beer. Suggestions were made, including a run up to Wal-Mart. My salvation came in the form of Peak_bgr, who had brought a spare set of base layers and socks. I wouldn't have clean or dry clothes to change into, but at least I would be able to hike! After another beer and one of Shizzmac's superburgers I settled around the campfire as temperatures continued to drop. It wasn't that late before I headed off to prepare my gear for the next morning and get to bed.
After a great night's sleep, I woke up at 6:00am. It was still dark, but a lantern revealed I also had forgotten not only eating utensils, but in fact anything to eat for a proper breakfast. I did have pop-tarts, though, and I tossed them into a pocket.
We gathered at the north trailhead of the Imp Loop. The plan was to go head up over the Imp Face to the Carter ridge, and come back down over Middle and South Carter through Zeta Pass and out Nineteen-Mile Brook. I met a number of people who had come up just for the hike, including MEB, who I could have sworn I knew. It would be eight miles and seven hours later when I realized we had met the previous summer on the Osceolas. It's a small world, after all.
The route up the Imp Trail was very straightforward and not steep at all. The woods were generally bare, the trail a hardpack of ice. We wore our crampons right from the start. Most of us carried snowshoes but would never need them. On the way up, we spread out into three groups, the fast, middle, and slow. Hikethe115 and I established ourselves as the middle group, moving at a casual pace and talking up a storm. Well, I was, anyway. I can't seem to shut up when I'm hiking.
The day was beautiful - clear blue skies, little or no wind, and incredible views from the outlook on the Imp across to the Presidential range. We stopped for photos and a brief lunch before continuing along the edge of the ravine. We eventually came to the North Carter Trail, which would be the longest mile I've ever hiked. This trail just seemed to continue and continue far longer than it should have. Of course, it didn't help that Hikethe115's altimeter was off by 400 feet.
After we arrived at the ridgeline and the Carter-Moriah Trail, we stopped for a badly-needed lunch. Although the temperature was probably around 10 or 15, I was freezing; lacking appropriate levels of food in my body I just couldn't generate any heat. A ham and cheese sandwich was all I needed to load up on carbs, fats, and some protein and start feeling a thousand times better. We easily cruised up over some beautiful open viewpoints to the summit of Middle Carter.
From there it's an easy ridge walk with some easy ups and downs over to South Carter. Along the way we passed a group setting up a campsite in the flat, open woods near the summit. We both expressed our jealousy - what a fantastic spot to camp!
After tagging South Carter the lack of water I'd been drinking started to catch up to me in the form of cramping in the muscle to the outside of my quads (hip flexor? hip tensor?). I had my usual beverage with me, diluted Gatorade, so I had plenty of electrolytes available, but at this point I had to stop and drink more to try and prevent further pain. Muscle cramps while hiking can have very adverse affects further down the line.
It ended up feeling like a longer way across the ridge than it should have been (especially compared to last summer) but I did manage to keep going as everyone descended into Zeta Pass and then regrouped to head together down the Carter Dome Trail at high speed. Unfortunately, at this point Hikethe115 was having a terrible time walking, having gotten blisters dead-center on the balls of both feet. We took an extended stop at the junction with the Nineteen-Mile Brook Trail during which she unbooted and worked on her feet while a poorly-trained, poorly-behaving dog took off with MEB's glove.
We got everything together and cruised down the trail, arriving at the parking lot at 4:45. 10.8 miles, 3750', 8:30. After a ride back to the Imp trailhead to retrieve Hikethe115's car, we headed back to her condo in North Conway, where we met up with Nancy and HarryK. I am incredibly grateful for this trip, as not only was a hot shower wonderful, but Hikethe115 put our clothes in the drier; having only the one set of borrowed clothing, this was a blessing as I would not have to return to the campground wet.
We loaded up the car and headed back to the party, where everyone was enjoying incredible amounts of food and alcohol. After sating myself on both fronts, I collapsed into a chair by the huge, roaring campfire, tending it for a while. A winter campfire has some interesting side effects, including the incredibly dangerous ring of slippery ice that forms around it. Caution was required by all and several butts met the ground the hard way.
After being mesmerized by the fire for hours, at 1am I finally decided to head off to bed. I then learned quickly how much the alcohol had affected me, as I started shivering violently and uncontrollably as soon as I stepped away from the heat of the campfire. I also was not nearly sober enough to find the outhouse and then find my tent, and got very nervous at one point. But I'd be damned if I was going to be written up by Mohamed for something like this, and forced myself to find my site, crawled into my tent, and cranked my little propane heater until the shakes stopped and the sleeping bag was warm. I stripped, crawled in, killed the heater, and collapsed until the stupid alarm went off at 6am. After that I fell back asleep and didn't wake up until 8:30, the latest I have ever slept in a tent.
I got dressed, struck my tent, and helped clean up the main campsite. After a very yummy breakfast at Piccalilly's in North Conway, where I enjoyed biscuits and gravy with side of venison sausage, I cruised home with time to spare before watching the Patriots crush the Colts.
My photo album can be found here.
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