The Feathered Hat
Active member
With warm weather finally upon us, the time had come for Polly to lose her thick winter coat. It was either that or listen to her pant all summer and vacuum the house and car two or three times a day. We had always thought we have two big dogs: Tuck weighs 80 pounds; Polly, just a bit smaller, looked around 75. They’ve always matched up well, as here from last week’s climb of Mt. Flume:
So it was a bit of a surprise when we learned, during a visit to the vet the other day, that Polly actually weighs just 65 pounds, nearly 20 percent lighter than Tuckerman. But the real shock came when we had her shaved last week. She emerged from the groomer’s a whole other dog – my god, we said with wonder, she’s so little:
Even Tuck didn’t recognize his playmate at first until some sniffing gave Polly away. And right away I thought of Snowy, the dog in the Tintin adventures I loved as a kid -- Polly didn't seem much bigger:
But Polly’s sudden diminuation confirmed a decision I’d already made earlier in the week. Since both Polly and Tuckerman are still young dogs, younger than two years old, I decided we should pull back a bit on the steep peak-bagging climbs and spend more time exploring other territories in the Whites. My obligation as their Big Boss Man is to protect them from all kinds of danger, and that includes worn-out hips. Besides, peak-bagging is an arbitrary and artificial human invention that can get in the way of appreciating all that a wilderness or ecosystem has to offer, and for me personally I sometimes find that focusing strictly on a peak interrupts, while I’m walking, thinking about the rich fullness of life, which for me is the whole point of being out in the woods and mountains. One of the nicest hikes Tuckerman and I took last summer, before Polly arrived in our lives, was an out-and-back to Shoal Pond, a beautiful walk in some of the nicest country in all of northern New England, and nary a peak was involved. I’d like to do a lot more of this kind of hike with the dogs, who of course really don’t care whether some human-made list is being checked off or not. They just want to be outside having fun. Yet the satisfaction of reaching a mountain summit isn’t false emotion and neither is the sense of achievement; there’s meaning to be found in all kinds of wilderness experiences. So we’ll do peaks every other weekend (we’ll wait on the Presidentials, though, until next summer, when both Polly and Tuck will be full grown) and hike the valleys, notches and brook routes when we’re not up on the ridgelines and summit rocks.
Which brings us to Sunday’s hike. The week before we’d been up Flume; now it was time for something quieter. A walk on the Nancy Pond Trail up to the trail’s pretty namesake and then beyond to the even lovelier Norcross Pond would fit the day perfectly, I thought. The trip includes some beautiful woods walking (where parts of the trail reminded me vividly of trails on Mt. Tamalpais in northern California, the “home” mountain of my boyhood), some nice uphill sections beside Nancy Brook, a steep though relatively brief climb over rough switchbacks to 3,000 feet, and then mostly flat walking to the ponds. Oh, did I mention the Nancy Cascade along the way? The switchbacks ascend the same steep incline Nancy Brook tumbles down:
While climbing up the rocks and boulders of the switchbacks, stops for breathers are rewarded with a fine view eastward to the distant reaches of White Mountains National Forest:
Finally, a mile up from the Cascade, Nancy Pond slides into view:
Around the pond the trail is thick with mud, and most of the old puncheons are either rotted (watch out for rusty spikes poking up) or broken. With careful root and stone selection for your feet you can avoid stepping into the mud, some of which is boot-sucking deep. Meanwhile, Tuckerman discovered a couple stashes of lumber that I assume a trail crew will soon draw from to build new bog bridges:
Then, just before Norcross Pond, Tuckerman made his happiest discovery of the day (except, maybe, for the frog) – a final patch of snow:
And then, at last, Norcross Pond – and here’s where I discover that Tuckerman, the devil, is in fact working on a list: the Getting Muddy in Every White Mountains Pond list. Norcross, turns out, is No. 7 for him. For the rest of us, including Polly who’s too dainty to get wet, the beauty of this pond is well worth the sometimes strenuous but peak-free hike:
There are several blowdowns to contend with, including some duck-unders and scoot-overs. I cleared some branches and snags on some of them to make the path a little clearer and the scooting or ducking a little easier, but the next step is chainsaws. None of these blowdowns impedes progress, however, just slows it down momentarily.
We met just two other people on the trail all day. One fellow, who was from Bartlett and hiking with two handsome dogs of his own, said, “Where is everybody? On a beautiful day like this I thought the trail would be really crowded.” I wondered the same thing. “Looks like everyone’s up on a peak,” I said. “So we have these beautiful ponds to ourselves.”
Trail: Nancy Pond
Mileage: approx. 8.5
Elevation gain: 2,100 feet
Time: 5.5 hours, including lunch, photography, and a hundred thousand stops for marking.
More photos:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/99682097@N00/sets/72157623997393339/
Steve B
The Feathered Hat
Stevebjerklie at yahoo dot com
_____________________________________
Tuckerman’s and Polly’s Report for Dogs:
Mud! Totally excellent wicked deep pits on the trail from above Nancy Cascade all the way to Norcross Pond and beyond.
Frogs! They are so weird.
Squirrels! Chipmunks! But why don’t we ever catch them?
Lots of water. Your Big Boss Person won’t have to carry extra.
***.* Three and a half sniffs (out of four). T-Dog and P-Dog say check it out.
So it was a bit of a surprise when we learned, during a visit to the vet the other day, that Polly actually weighs just 65 pounds, nearly 20 percent lighter than Tuckerman. But the real shock came when we had her shaved last week. She emerged from the groomer’s a whole other dog – my god, we said with wonder, she’s so little:
Even Tuck didn’t recognize his playmate at first until some sniffing gave Polly away. And right away I thought of Snowy, the dog in the Tintin adventures I loved as a kid -- Polly didn't seem much bigger:
But Polly’s sudden diminuation confirmed a decision I’d already made earlier in the week. Since both Polly and Tuckerman are still young dogs, younger than two years old, I decided we should pull back a bit on the steep peak-bagging climbs and spend more time exploring other territories in the Whites. My obligation as their Big Boss Man is to protect them from all kinds of danger, and that includes worn-out hips. Besides, peak-bagging is an arbitrary and artificial human invention that can get in the way of appreciating all that a wilderness or ecosystem has to offer, and for me personally I sometimes find that focusing strictly on a peak interrupts, while I’m walking, thinking about the rich fullness of life, which for me is the whole point of being out in the woods and mountains. One of the nicest hikes Tuckerman and I took last summer, before Polly arrived in our lives, was an out-and-back to Shoal Pond, a beautiful walk in some of the nicest country in all of northern New England, and nary a peak was involved. I’d like to do a lot more of this kind of hike with the dogs, who of course really don’t care whether some human-made list is being checked off or not. They just want to be outside having fun. Yet the satisfaction of reaching a mountain summit isn’t false emotion and neither is the sense of achievement; there’s meaning to be found in all kinds of wilderness experiences. So we’ll do peaks every other weekend (we’ll wait on the Presidentials, though, until next summer, when both Polly and Tuck will be full grown) and hike the valleys, notches and brook routes when we’re not up on the ridgelines and summit rocks.
Which brings us to Sunday’s hike. The week before we’d been up Flume; now it was time for something quieter. A walk on the Nancy Pond Trail up to the trail’s pretty namesake and then beyond to the even lovelier Norcross Pond would fit the day perfectly, I thought. The trip includes some beautiful woods walking (where parts of the trail reminded me vividly of trails on Mt. Tamalpais in northern California, the “home” mountain of my boyhood), some nice uphill sections beside Nancy Brook, a steep though relatively brief climb over rough switchbacks to 3,000 feet, and then mostly flat walking to the ponds. Oh, did I mention the Nancy Cascade along the way? The switchbacks ascend the same steep incline Nancy Brook tumbles down:
While climbing up the rocks and boulders of the switchbacks, stops for breathers are rewarded with a fine view eastward to the distant reaches of White Mountains National Forest:
Finally, a mile up from the Cascade, Nancy Pond slides into view:
Around the pond the trail is thick with mud, and most of the old puncheons are either rotted (watch out for rusty spikes poking up) or broken. With careful root and stone selection for your feet you can avoid stepping into the mud, some of which is boot-sucking deep. Meanwhile, Tuckerman discovered a couple stashes of lumber that I assume a trail crew will soon draw from to build new bog bridges:
Then, just before Norcross Pond, Tuckerman made his happiest discovery of the day (except, maybe, for the frog) – a final patch of snow:
And then, at last, Norcross Pond – and here’s where I discover that Tuckerman, the devil, is in fact working on a list: the Getting Muddy in Every White Mountains Pond list. Norcross, turns out, is No. 7 for him. For the rest of us, including Polly who’s too dainty to get wet, the beauty of this pond is well worth the sometimes strenuous but peak-free hike:
There are several blowdowns to contend with, including some duck-unders and scoot-overs. I cleared some branches and snags on some of them to make the path a little clearer and the scooting or ducking a little easier, but the next step is chainsaws. None of these blowdowns impedes progress, however, just slows it down momentarily.
We met just two other people on the trail all day. One fellow, who was from Bartlett and hiking with two handsome dogs of his own, said, “Where is everybody? On a beautiful day like this I thought the trail would be really crowded.” I wondered the same thing. “Looks like everyone’s up on a peak,” I said. “So we have these beautiful ponds to ourselves.”
Trail: Nancy Pond
Mileage: approx. 8.5
Elevation gain: 2,100 feet
Time: 5.5 hours, including lunch, photography, and a hundred thousand stops for marking.
More photos:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/99682097@N00/sets/72157623997393339/
Steve B
The Feathered Hat
Stevebjerklie at yahoo dot com
_____________________________________
Tuckerman’s and Polly’s Report for Dogs:
Mud! Totally excellent wicked deep pits on the trail from above Nancy Cascade all the way to Norcross Pond and beyond.
Frogs! They are so weird.
Squirrels! Chipmunks! But why don’t we ever catch them?
Lots of water. Your Big Boss Person won’t have to carry extra.
***.* Three and a half sniffs (out of four). T-Dog and P-Dog say check it out.
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