Orsonab
Member
On Top of the World, Ma! - Garfield 16/Jan/06 - Number 48!
Oh how sweet it is to get No. 48 under the belt, but what a slog... Only GlennS was willing or able to pick up the gauntlet of accompanying me on this memorable ascent. Though we knew that extreme wind and cold temps were forecast, we thought that the sheltered nature of the Garfield trail would mean we could get away with the climb until at least just before the summit. I knew the day would be tricky when I literally slid past the turn-off from Rte 3 to the winter parking area; a three-point turn on an ice-slicked Rte 3 was one of the more dangerous parts of the whole trip. Once safely esconced at the trailhead and geared up we noticed that the temp was hovering near 0 degrees but there was no wind - not even at the top of the trees. Could the forecasts have been wrong? We shall see... In good time we hit the summer trailhead and plunged into the woods. There was about 3" of fresh powder over ice/hard-pack which made for pleasant snowshoeing conditions and we continued like this till we hit the major water crossing over Spruce Brook. Recent thawing, rain and then freezing meant that the brook was wide, deep and only semi-frozen though which frozen points could sustain our weight was impossible to tell. We bushwhacked to the right (East) and bushwhacked and bushwhacked until we thought we'd come to a possible spot. This was a mistake. The crossing proved treacherous as the slushy ice gave way and I got a wet knee for my trouble and GlennS got a wet boot and leg. If we'd gone about another 100' we'd have hit the snowmobile bridge and avoided all this - doh! We decided we'd continue until we felt our feet getting dangerously cold. GlennS was aided by new socks and a bread bag which acted as a vapour barrier - and which I let him keep! We continued and encountered another obstacle as the trail followed what seemed to be a small stream which was just wet enough to cause constant ice build-up on our snowshoes. Every 100 yards we had to knock off about 1lb of ice on each shoe. Anyhoo, trail continued (still no wind!) until we got to about 3800'. We were both getting tired (all right, I was) as we were now breaking trail though about 12+" of fresh powder and getting hungry. By 4200', our feet were starting to get cold, the wind had really picked up and we layered up to full above-treeline status, ready to throw ourselves into the teeth of the weather. The ledges just below the summit were so filled in with snow that we kept the snowshoes on and didn't bother with crampons. Clouds had long since rolled in so we emerged onto a desolate, viewless Garfield summit. The wind wasn't that bad - or at least not as bad as we feared it would be but wind chill was still scary and our feet were not happy. We snapped pictures to show respective unbelieving spouses ("Why, Andrew, why?") and than dashed down. Though both starving, we didn't stop till we'd descended about 1000' in order to warm up our feet. A bite to eat, some hot chocolate and, yes, a tot of Scotland's finest and we were on our way down. The rest was uneventful as we made it back to the cars about ten hours after we left them. GlennS had kindly purchased some bubbly and we mutually toasted each other for a job well done and I bought a big bunch of flowers for the wife on the way home to thank her for looking after my brood on all my hikes. Thank you to her and all who've accompanied me on the 48 - can't wait to get my "48" patch, t-shirt and pajama set!
Oh how sweet it is to get No. 48 under the belt, but what a slog... Only GlennS was willing or able to pick up the gauntlet of accompanying me on this memorable ascent. Though we knew that extreme wind and cold temps were forecast, we thought that the sheltered nature of the Garfield trail would mean we could get away with the climb until at least just before the summit. I knew the day would be tricky when I literally slid past the turn-off from Rte 3 to the winter parking area; a three-point turn on an ice-slicked Rte 3 was one of the more dangerous parts of the whole trip. Once safely esconced at the trailhead and geared up we noticed that the temp was hovering near 0 degrees but there was no wind - not even at the top of the trees. Could the forecasts have been wrong? We shall see... In good time we hit the summer trailhead and plunged into the woods. There was about 3" of fresh powder over ice/hard-pack which made for pleasant snowshoeing conditions and we continued like this till we hit the major water crossing over Spruce Brook. Recent thawing, rain and then freezing meant that the brook was wide, deep and only semi-frozen though which frozen points could sustain our weight was impossible to tell. We bushwhacked to the right (East) and bushwhacked and bushwhacked until we thought we'd come to a possible spot. This was a mistake. The crossing proved treacherous as the slushy ice gave way and I got a wet knee for my trouble and GlennS got a wet boot and leg. If we'd gone about another 100' we'd have hit the snowmobile bridge and avoided all this - doh! We decided we'd continue until we felt our feet getting dangerously cold. GlennS was aided by new socks and a bread bag which acted as a vapour barrier - and which I let him keep! We continued and encountered another obstacle as the trail followed what seemed to be a small stream which was just wet enough to cause constant ice build-up on our snowshoes. Every 100 yards we had to knock off about 1lb of ice on each shoe. Anyhoo, trail continued (still no wind!) until we got to about 3800'. We were both getting tired (all right, I was) as we were now breaking trail though about 12+" of fresh powder and getting hungry. By 4200', our feet were starting to get cold, the wind had really picked up and we layered up to full above-treeline status, ready to throw ourselves into the teeth of the weather. The ledges just below the summit were so filled in with snow that we kept the snowshoes on and didn't bother with crampons. Clouds had long since rolled in so we emerged onto a desolate, viewless Garfield summit. The wind wasn't that bad - or at least not as bad as we feared it would be but wind chill was still scary and our feet were not happy. We snapped pictures to show respective unbelieving spouses ("Why, Andrew, why?") and than dashed down. Though both starving, we didn't stop till we'd descended about 1000' in order to warm up our feet. A bite to eat, some hot chocolate and, yes, a tot of Scotland's finest and we were on our way down. The rest was uneventful as we made it back to the cars about ten hours after we left them. GlennS had kindly purchased some bubbly and we mutually toasted each other for a job well done and I bought a big bunch of flowers for the wife on the way home to thank her for looking after my brood on all my hikes. Thank you to her and all who've accompanied me on the 48 - can't wait to get my "48" patch, t-shirt and pajama set!
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I'm glad nothing too troubling happened from the dip in the brook. I had a similar issue with a brook on the Tripyramids yesterday, which ultimately prevented us from summiting! 
