Double Bow
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- Apr 29, 2005
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I had originally been planning to do Middle and South Carter on Saturday but, a late start coupled with the uncertainty of being able to park at the trailhead made me go with my "Plan B" and so I revisited Passaconaway which I had never done from the North and hadn't done at all in over 3 years. This would be my first solo hike in winterish conditions. I needed a solo trip to collect myself while in the midst of some tumultuous times.
I pulled into the Olivarian Brook Trail head to find no snow, despite passing a good deal of it at a high elevation on the way over. There were two other cars there when I got there and 2 or 3 more arrived just as I was hitting the trail. The trail starts off on a gravel raod but soon turns into the wood and follows a cross-country ski trail over an old railroad grade. The length of it to the Passaconaway Cutoff trail was free of snow and pretty level. It was wet and had frozen mud in some places. Still, I was able to travel quickly, going about 2mi in 45min. This was very encouraging and I even thought that maybe I could do Whiteface as well. If it was summer, I definately would have been planning to do so.
On Passaconaway Cutoff, the stream crossing was fairly difficult. I had to go upstream a bit and walk across a downed tree. Fortunately, the woods there were pretty open and the tree pretty dry. Soon, the trail was covered in about two inches or so of snow with rocks and mud thrown in the mix. Bare boots were what was needed for this stretch.
When I got to the junction with the White Ledge trail, I took a break. The snow was about 4" deep on the trail here. While having a snack, a guy and his dog passed by coming back from Passaconaway. They told me I was going to be glad I had snowshoes with me. (Well, alright. It was the guy that told me. The dog didn't say anything.) I finished my snack, put on my snowshoes and took off again. But, dang it! I had to stop and take them right off at a series of steep slabs with ice and water running over them. While I was stopped taking them off again, the large group of guys that were assembling in the parking lot as I left caught up. I let them pass me but was disappointed to see that not one had snowshoes. They would proceed to earn the nickname I gave them of the "Passaconaway Posthole Platoon"!
They trudged through postholing over 2' deep in places and making it difficult to snowshoe. At times, I had to hang back to let them get further ahead so I wasn't following the tail of their group closely.
The going here was much slower as the wet melting snow, the postholes, and the "benddowns" made for a bit of a challenge. Near the junction with the Walden trail, the guys passed me coming back down. They said that up ahead was a "Y" intersection and that there were no tracks and so they didn't know which way to go. Plus, they figured that the snow was too deep for them but they thought I might fair better if I wanted to chance it since I had snowshoes. There were many blowdowns and "benddowns" along they way to the intersection.
When I got there, I saw by the footprints how they had mulled around trying to figure out what to do. I saw older tracks which they hadn't and continued straight following snowshoe tracks and spotting occasional blue blazes which were at about knee height. As I got to the 1st lookout, my breath was taken away. It was clear and sunny and the view was stunning. Seeing the leaves all different colors in the valley below and other snow capped mountains which looked huge (especially Washington) was really spectacular. Eventually I reached the summit and took another break but it had gotten windy and I knew that I couldn't stay long (why would I?) due to the fact that my late start and slow progress on the White Ledge and Walden trails was going to have me getting back to the car in the dark anyway.
Changing into my third pair of gloves for the day, complete with handwarmers, I headed back picking up the pace and trying to be careful. Fortunately, I was back down low and had left the snow behind by the time the last dusky rays failed me. A ways down Olivarian Brook, I put on my headlamp so I wouldn't plant my feet in the mud. When I got back out to the gravel road, my breath way taken away once more. After so much foul weather all month, the day, which had been so clear and sunny, had given way to a perfect crisp clear night with all the stars shining brightly. It was so beautiful, I almost cried. I'd never been happier to get back down in the dark.
Webshots is having issues so my pictures are out of order and may or may not be accessable. Hopefully this will soon be resolved.
I pulled into the Olivarian Brook Trail head to find no snow, despite passing a good deal of it at a high elevation on the way over. There were two other cars there when I got there and 2 or 3 more arrived just as I was hitting the trail. The trail starts off on a gravel raod but soon turns into the wood and follows a cross-country ski trail over an old railroad grade. The length of it to the Passaconaway Cutoff trail was free of snow and pretty level. It was wet and had frozen mud in some places. Still, I was able to travel quickly, going about 2mi in 45min. This was very encouraging and I even thought that maybe I could do Whiteface as well. If it was summer, I definately would have been planning to do so.
On Passaconaway Cutoff, the stream crossing was fairly difficult. I had to go upstream a bit and walk across a downed tree. Fortunately, the woods there were pretty open and the tree pretty dry. Soon, the trail was covered in about two inches or so of snow with rocks and mud thrown in the mix. Bare boots were what was needed for this stretch.
When I got to the junction with the White Ledge trail, I took a break. The snow was about 4" deep on the trail here. While having a snack, a guy and his dog passed by coming back from Passaconaway. They told me I was going to be glad I had snowshoes with me. (Well, alright. It was the guy that told me. The dog didn't say anything.) I finished my snack, put on my snowshoes and took off again. But, dang it! I had to stop and take them right off at a series of steep slabs with ice and water running over them. While I was stopped taking them off again, the large group of guys that were assembling in the parking lot as I left caught up. I let them pass me but was disappointed to see that not one had snowshoes. They would proceed to earn the nickname I gave them of the "Passaconaway Posthole Platoon"!
They trudged through postholing over 2' deep in places and making it difficult to snowshoe. At times, I had to hang back to let them get further ahead so I wasn't following the tail of their group closely.The going here was much slower as the wet melting snow, the postholes, and the "benddowns" made for a bit of a challenge. Near the junction with the Walden trail, the guys passed me coming back down. They said that up ahead was a "Y" intersection and that there were no tracks and so they didn't know which way to go. Plus, they figured that the snow was too deep for them but they thought I might fair better if I wanted to chance it since I had snowshoes. There were many blowdowns and "benddowns" along they way to the intersection.
When I got there, I saw by the footprints how they had mulled around trying to figure out what to do. I saw older tracks which they hadn't and continued straight following snowshoe tracks and spotting occasional blue blazes which were at about knee height. As I got to the 1st lookout, my breath was taken away. It was clear and sunny and the view was stunning. Seeing the leaves all different colors in the valley below and other snow capped mountains which looked huge (especially Washington) was really spectacular. Eventually I reached the summit and took another break but it had gotten windy and I knew that I couldn't stay long (why would I?) due to the fact that my late start and slow progress on the White Ledge and Walden trails was going to have me getting back to the car in the dark anyway.
Changing into my third pair of gloves for the day, complete with handwarmers, I headed back picking up the pace and trying to be careful. Fortunately, I was back down low and had left the snow behind by the time the last dusky rays failed me. A ways down Olivarian Brook, I put on my headlamp so I wouldn't plant my feet in the mud. When I got back out to the gravel road, my breath way taken away once more. After so much foul weather all month, the day, which had been so clear and sunny, had given way to a perfect crisp clear night with all the stars shining brightly. It was so beautiful, I almost cried. I'd never been happier to get back down in the dark.
Webshots is having issues so my pictures are out of order and may or may not be accessable. Hopefully this will soon be resolved.
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