Mtn-top
New member
Four o’clock came early on Sunday morning, but surprisingly, the sky was already lightening with the color from the rising sun. We got ourselves together quickly, struck and packed the tent, then headed over to the car to heat up some coffee and water for oatmeal. By 5 a.m. we were on the trail, headed up Valley Way towards the summit of Madison.
We had planned this trip for almost two months. We had done progressively harder and longer hikes in anticipation and both of us felt stronger than we had ever been, but despite the preparation, we both had some trepidation as we set off that moment. The distance was untried and neither of us knew how our bodies (and our minds) would react to that length of a hike. Our planned route was up Valley Way to Watson Path, then Watson to the top of Madison and down to the hut. From there, we would follow the Gulfside up and over all the peaks to Washington, Crawford down to Pierce, then over to Jackson and down to Crawford notch. We mapped it out as 24 something miles which was a good ten miles more than the Wildcats/Carter hike we did a month earlier. Despite the trepidation, the day looked very promising with clear blue skies overhead and beautiful yellow sunshine filtering through the trees.
I do not think Blue was mentally prepared for the challenge that Watson Path threw at us so early in the morning. Sure, weeks earlier we had climbed Cathedral at Baxter and the two of us flew up the trail with no problem. While this trail did not even compare to that trail, the fact that it was unanticipated by Blue caught her emotionally off guard. As we neared treeline, we began to hear the wind blow and, to make matters worse, the beautiful sunshine that had made our stroll up valley way almost enchanted, was now blocked by clouds. With the clouds came the fog and so, by the time we were on top of Madison, we had 35 mph sustained winds with gusts in the 40s, and very limited visibility.
We retreated down to Madison hut with Blue muttering all the way about how she hated the Watson Path trail. Another time, I am sure she would have loved it because while it does have some steeper sections, it is a really beautiful hike up a relatively unknown side of Madison, filled with lawns and enclaves of wildflowers. Now however, it was as if somehow the choice of this trail was responsible for the terrible change of weather and everything else that might happen along our hike. It got worse quickly; the forecast for Mt. Washington that was posted at the hut was, “zero visibility with fog and mist all day, temps low 40s, winds 60-80 mph.
We left the hut even more discouraged than we arrived and chugged our way up towards Adams. With a pep talk along the way, we decided that we would make the best of what he had been dealt and just be prudent in the decisions we made along the way about proceeding or turning back.
We made the right decision. While strong, the winds rarely exceeded 50 mph and most of the time we were on the leeward side of the mountains. The cols were bad, but you cannot have everything. The summits began to clear and by the time we were up Jefferson, we could almost make out the top of Washington. The lifting clouds lifted spirits and we picked up the pace and cruised up to Washington.
In my head, I wanted to be at Washington by one. We arrived ten minutes late, but I still felt as though we were doing fine. The visibility was excellent and for the first time, I actually had a summit visit to Washington where I could see something other than clouds- it was terrific. Sure there was wind, but hey, that is to be expected. Washington reported an average windspeed of 48 mph with gust of 65+. We were going to take a picture of the two of us by the summit sign, but saw a group of three or four trying desperately not to be blown off that little area--grabbing each other, grabbing the sign post, grading whatever was stationary--so we though it best to pass that photo opportunity up.
After a bite to eat we cruised on down to Lakes. We were at our best. We were recharged, re-warmed, and re-invigorated. We cruised from one peak to the next, getting from Washington to Pierce in under 4 hours where we arrived tired, but not wiped. We had held out the option of not going to Jackson if we were too tired when we got to Pierce, but I needed Jackson for my list and we felt that we still had the energy, so off we went. We stopped at the beautiful Mitzpah Spring hut for water and then took the quick little jaunt to the top of Jackson, just in time to see a simply glorious vista. Everything was bathed in the rich yellow glow of a soon-to-be-setting sun and the skies were so clear I swear I could see to Brazil. The wind was blowing, but not like earlier, and it was a great spot to have one last power bar before heading down to Blue’s car. We had done it, we thought, and we both felt the same glow that covered the peaks and valleys laid out before us, deep inside of us. It was great.
How quickly things can change! The last little 2.9 miles back to Crawford was on a trail that seemed hell bent on taking every little bit of remaining energy from our bodies. What a miserable little trail that Webster-Jackson trail turned out to be and it was something that I certainly did not anticipate. It was as if someone was getting me back for throwing the Watson Path at Blue what seemed like ages ago.
We popped out of the woods a little before nine and walked up to the where the car was parked. By the time we got my car and then drove home, it was well after midnight. We were both exhausted but the trip surpassed both of our highest expectations. It was a great adventure and something I am sure I will be telling my grandchildren years hence.
Blue says, pictures are here: http://community.webshots.com/album/157334195xKWxER?532
We had planned this trip for almost two months. We had done progressively harder and longer hikes in anticipation and both of us felt stronger than we had ever been, but despite the preparation, we both had some trepidation as we set off that moment. The distance was untried and neither of us knew how our bodies (and our minds) would react to that length of a hike. Our planned route was up Valley Way to Watson Path, then Watson to the top of Madison and down to the hut. From there, we would follow the Gulfside up and over all the peaks to Washington, Crawford down to Pierce, then over to Jackson and down to Crawford notch. We mapped it out as 24 something miles which was a good ten miles more than the Wildcats/Carter hike we did a month earlier. Despite the trepidation, the day looked very promising with clear blue skies overhead and beautiful yellow sunshine filtering through the trees.
I do not think Blue was mentally prepared for the challenge that Watson Path threw at us so early in the morning. Sure, weeks earlier we had climbed Cathedral at Baxter and the two of us flew up the trail with no problem. While this trail did not even compare to that trail, the fact that it was unanticipated by Blue caught her emotionally off guard. As we neared treeline, we began to hear the wind blow and, to make matters worse, the beautiful sunshine that had made our stroll up valley way almost enchanted, was now blocked by clouds. With the clouds came the fog and so, by the time we were on top of Madison, we had 35 mph sustained winds with gusts in the 40s, and very limited visibility.
We retreated down to Madison hut with Blue muttering all the way about how she hated the Watson Path trail. Another time, I am sure she would have loved it because while it does have some steeper sections, it is a really beautiful hike up a relatively unknown side of Madison, filled with lawns and enclaves of wildflowers. Now however, it was as if somehow the choice of this trail was responsible for the terrible change of weather and everything else that might happen along our hike. It got worse quickly; the forecast for Mt. Washington that was posted at the hut was, “zero visibility with fog and mist all day, temps low 40s, winds 60-80 mph.
We left the hut even more discouraged than we arrived and chugged our way up towards Adams. With a pep talk along the way, we decided that we would make the best of what he had been dealt and just be prudent in the decisions we made along the way about proceeding or turning back.
We made the right decision. While strong, the winds rarely exceeded 50 mph and most of the time we were on the leeward side of the mountains. The cols were bad, but you cannot have everything. The summits began to clear and by the time we were up Jefferson, we could almost make out the top of Washington. The lifting clouds lifted spirits and we picked up the pace and cruised up to Washington.
In my head, I wanted to be at Washington by one. We arrived ten minutes late, but I still felt as though we were doing fine. The visibility was excellent and for the first time, I actually had a summit visit to Washington where I could see something other than clouds- it was terrific. Sure there was wind, but hey, that is to be expected. Washington reported an average windspeed of 48 mph with gust of 65+. We were going to take a picture of the two of us by the summit sign, but saw a group of three or four trying desperately not to be blown off that little area--grabbing each other, grabbing the sign post, grading whatever was stationary--so we though it best to pass that photo opportunity up.
After a bite to eat we cruised on down to Lakes. We were at our best. We were recharged, re-warmed, and re-invigorated. We cruised from one peak to the next, getting from Washington to Pierce in under 4 hours where we arrived tired, but not wiped. We had held out the option of not going to Jackson if we were too tired when we got to Pierce, but I needed Jackson for my list and we felt that we still had the energy, so off we went. We stopped at the beautiful Mitzpah Spring hut for water and then took the quick little jaunt to the top of Jackson, just in time to see a simply glorious vista. Everything was bathed in the rich yellow glow of a soon-to-be-setting sun and the skies were so clear I swear I could see to Brazil. The wind was blowing, but not like earlier, and it was a great spot to have one last power bar before heading down to Blue’s car. We had done it, we thought, and we both felt the same glow that covered the peaks and valleys laid out before us, deep inside of us. It was great.
How quickly things can change! The last little 2.9 miles back to Crawford was on a trail that seemed hell bent on taking every little bit of remaining energy from our bodies. What a miserable little trail that Webster-Jackson trail turned out to be and it was something that I certainly did not anticipate. It was as if someone was getting me back for throwing the Watson Path at Blue what seemed like ages ago.
We popped out of the woods a little before nine and walked up to the where the car was parked. By the time we got my car and then drove home, it was well after midnight. We were both exhausted but the trip surpassed both of our highest expectations. It was a great adventure and something I am sure I will be telling my grandchildren years hence.
Blue says, pictures are here: http://community.webshots.com/album/157334195xKWxER?532
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