Kurchian
Member
PART 1
http://www.vftt.org/forums/showthread.php?t=32112
Favorite Huts
Galehead
I liked it before it was renovated and I like it even more now. It feels remote and its location so close to South Twin gets your heart pumping first thing in the morning. I love the high-peaked pine ceiling in the hut.
Carter Notch
This was the hut I ever stayed at and hiked in with my daughter and my hiking partner and son. The location of the hut by the lake and boulders make it so unique. I remember how impressed my young daughter was when she learned that the croo kept some of their food under the rampart boulders where they acted like a natural refrigerator even during the summer.
Favorite Boots
Like most hikers I’ve hiked with many boots. To conserve weight I tried lower cuts. When I hurt my ankle I had special boots to give me support. But I went back to my Asolo 95 GTX’s for the last 5 or 6 mountains. Never a blister and a comfortable level of support and traction.
Favorite Hiking Gear
Merino wool tops – I’ve been using long-sleeved SmartWool for a few years. They are perfect for layering. But recently I discovered short-sleeved wool tops for warm weather. They are just as good, and believe it or not, they aren’t hot and they wick and dry.
Favorite Mountains (Alpha order)
This started out to be a list of my 5 favorite mountains. But I couldn’t keep it to just 5!
Bondcliff
My hiking partner and his son and I walked from Lincoln Woods. It was a special day because of the company and because that is a special mountain. I have a picture of me at that famous spot on the ledge and it will be on the cover of my next album. Wait, who releases albums anymore?!
Eisenhower
I love how you are surprised as you break out into the open just before Crawford Path and the Presidentials jump out at you. Edmands Path has to be my favorite wooded trail.
Garfield
The view from the summit into the Pemi is perfect. I remember looking down at Owl’s Head, that I hadn’t yet climbed, and it seemed to mock me. I enjoyed that little scramble at the top. The profile of Garfield with its craggy pyramidal shape is classic.
Isolation
I joined an AMC over 40 group for this hike. I remember when I got to the trailhead I saw 3 women warming up. Turned out they were marathoners who were looking for a little exercise. Needless to say that fact didn’t encourage me as I had hoped for a slow pace with a bunch of old folks! I never knew or expected the unique views from that mountain.
Franconia Ridge
I was lucky to have picked a perfect day to walk the ridge. I marveled at the carefully tended trails. I was constantly in awe of the views up towards Lafayette and then back towards Liberty and Flume. Those images will always be implanted in my brain.
Wildcat
My partner and I decided to hike down the Polecat ski trail. What a great decision! To have 360-degree views the entire descent is unique. To be able to look at Washington and the gulf from the vantage point was a perfect way to end a day.
Tripyramids
I hiked these on a hot humid August day. As we walked up those slabs our bodies were on fire. But the views back down into the valley and over to the chopped off peak of Osceola allowed us to mitigate some of the temps.
Scariest Moment
When you hear “chance of thunderstorms” you better believe it. You generally know when bad weather is on the way when you are in the Whites. But in this particular case I underestimated how quickly. I was in the col between the two Kinsman’s heading south and could hear distant thunder. The thunder roars were getting louder and the lightning strikes were getting closer. But foolishly I was intent on getting to the South Kinsman peak. After all I had climbed this far already. Wouldn’t it be a shame to be so close and unsuccessful? Apparently, I was not sure if the peak would still be there for another day. Well, just after I summited South Kinsman and turned north to return there was a lightning strike within 50 feet of me. The thunder explosion was immediate and deafeningly loud, frighteningly so. It felt as though my eardrums had ruptured and I was dazed. The lightening strike was a jaw-dropping terrifying experience; the effects of which cannot truly be described, only experienced. The sound was a loud SNAP with a metallic odor. On the way down that afternoon the rain came down in such a torrent that the trails were like rivers. I soon realized that I was not able to avoid getting my boots wet and I just waded in ankle to knee-deep water for a couple of miles. Also, I learned another lesson. I hadn’t packed properly. We’ve all read the admonitions about planning for the worst case but I hadn’t this time, after all, it was summer! This was my first and only experience with an “hypothermia” issue. I became soaked to the bone and shivering cold. I reached the Fishin’ Jimmy trail intersection and couldn’t figure out which way to turn. I was scared. I had been past that area several times in hikes with my kids to Lonesome Lake hut. But my physical state impacted my mental state and I had to sit down in the pouring grain and fish out my trail maps to figure it out. It took me a long time to figure out where I was and where to go. I now know that I was experiencing the early stages of hypothermia.
Injuries
Two stick out. The first one involves a mishap in the Presidentials. In 2003 I did a mini Presi traverse of Madison, Adams, and Jefferson. Near the Edmands Col I stepped in a hole and twisted my ankle severely. I should have stopped applied appropriate first aid. Yet a thunder storm was approaching and we had a lot of ground to cover. My hiking partner tried to gently hurry me along because even with our typically slower than average pace we could have made it to the hut easily before the storm hit. But I was literally dragging my foot at this stage and was barely able to walk. If you’ve experienced a storm in high elevations you know what they’re like. We hunkered down in a safe (but decidedly not dry) spot and watched as the storm flew over us dropping endless sheets of rain atop us. When we finally got the hut my ankle was perhaps three times its normal size. As the last arriver I had the worst-located bunk 3 levels up beside the loud banging door. I remember lying in bed awake most of the night alternately focusing on the sharp pain of my ankle as it throbbed in time with each heart beat as I was inundated with about 10 people snoring. I tried to imagine a rhythmic melody of these two competing sensory sensations in order to reach some peaceful sleep. Unfortunately, the snoring rhythms weren’t particularly consistent so my quest for musical harmony was in vain. Turns out that one of the worst aspects of the experience was the fact that all that hydration caused many a trip to the bathroom. Climbing down the bunk on that ankle and hobbling to the bathroom was tortuous! Hiking back down the Ammo was true agony. All the walking I did on the ankle those two days has permanently damaged it. To this day it aches for 24 hours after every hike.
The second injury involves someone else. On an over-40 AMC tour to Isolation our tour guide, who turned out to be a diabetic, was having trouble keeping up with us. Eventually he made it to the top. But on the way back he collapsed and had to receive treatment from the co-leader. He explained that he had changed his meds and they weren’t’ agreeing with him. I remember watching him collapse heavily sprawl out on the trail totally unconscious. He eventually came to and walked back down at a snail’s pace. I stayed with him and didn’t get back to the car until after dark.
It seemed auspicious that there was a bright “Full Corn” Moon the night before I climbed my 48th. It was so bright that I think it could have lit the way up the mountain. As I reflect on completing the 4000-footers I have a mixture of competing emotions. For awhile I felt that such very specific goals were inconsistent with the joy of hiking and climbing. After awhile I got past this, particularly as I so much of my hiking was not involved with the 48. Much of my present joy comes from the fact that I have been blessed with the ability to be able to appreciate the natural beauty of the White Mountains. Not just the peaks, but the views, the streams, the history, the sights around each bend, the wildlife and the vast stretches of wilderness. The companionship of my hiking partner, Michael, has been an important part of the enjoyment. In a perverse way I can now smile at the aches and pains, the black flies, the bloody shins, that endless walk back along Lincoln Woods and the times I’ve had to strap on a head lamp after a slower-than-book-time descent so I could find my way back after the sun set. How can I also forget my quest for an icy Coffee Coolatta after a hike and the three hour ride home listening to my favorite tunes. All in all I almost feel sad that I’ve finished. But the redeeming feature is that the mountains will be there tomorrow.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/kurchian/sets/72157622146215499/
http://www.vftt.org/forums/showthread.php?t=32112
Favorite Huts
Galehead
I liked it before it was renovated and I like it even more now. It feels remote and its location so close to South Twin gets your heart pumping first thing in the morning. I love the high-peaked pine ceiling in the hut.
Carter Notch
This was the hut I ever stayed at and hiked in with my daughter and my hiking partner and son. The location of the hut by the lake and boulders make it so unique. I remember how impressed my young daughter was when she learned that the croo kept some of their food under the rampart boulders where they acted like a natural refrigerator even during the summer.
Favorite Boots
Like most hikers I’ve hiked with many boots. To conserve weight I tried lower cuts. When I hurt my ankle I had special boots to give me support. But I went back to my Asolo 95 GTX’s for the last 5 or 6 mountains. Never a blister and a comfortable level of support and traction.
Favorite Hiking Gear
Merino wool tops – I’ve been using long-sleeved SmartWool for a few years. They are perfect for layering. But recently I discovered short-sleeved wool tops for warm weather. They are just as good, and believe it or not, they aren’t hot and they wick and dry.
Favorite Mountains (Alpha order)
This started out to be a list of my 5 favorite mountains. But I couldn’t keep it to just 5!
Bondcliff
My hiking partner and his son and I walked from Lincoln Woods. It was a special day because of the company and because that is a special mountain. I have a picture of me at that famous spot on the ledge and it will be on the cover of my next album. Wait, who releases albums anymore?!
Eisenhower
I love how you are surprised as you break out into the open just before Crawford Path and the Presidentials jump out at you. Edmands Path has to be my favorite wooded trail.
Garfield
The view from the summit into the Pemi is perfect. I remember looking down at Owl’s Head, that I hadn’t yet climbed, and it seemed to mock me. I enjoyed that little scramble at the top. The profile of Garfield with its craggy pyramidal shape is classic.
Isolation
I joined an AMC over 40 group for this hike. I remember when I got to the trailhead I saw 3 women warming up. Turned out they were marathoners who were looking for a little exercise. Needless to say that fact didn’t encourage me as I had hoped for a slow pace with a bunch of old folks! I never knew or expected the unique views from that mountain.
Franconia Ridge
I was lucky to have picked a perfect day to walk the ridge. I marveled at the carefully tended trails. I was constantly in awe of the views up towards Lafayette and then back towards Liberty and Flume. Those images will always be implanted in my brain.
Wildcat
My partner and I decided to hike down the Polecat ski trail. What a great decision! To have 360-degree views the entire descent is unique. To be able to look at Washington and the gulf from the vantage point was a perfect way to end a day.
Tripyramids
I hiked these on a hot humid August day. As we walked up those slabs our bodies were on fire. But the views back down into the valley and over to the chopped off peak of Osceola allowed us to mitigate some of the temps.
Scariest Moment
When you hear “chance of thunderstorms” you better believe it. You generally know when bad weather is on the way when you are in the Whites. But in this particular case I underestimated how quickly. I was in the col between the two Kinsman’s heading south and could hear distant thunder. The thunder roars were getting louder and the lightning strikes were getting closer. But foolishly I was intent on getting to the South Kinsman peak. After all I had climbed this far already. Wouldn’t it be a shame to be so close and unsuccessful? Apparently, I was not sure if the peak would still be there for another day. Well, just after I summited South Kinsman and turned north to return there was a lightning strike within 50 feet of me. The thunder explosion was immediate and deafeningly loud, frighteningly so. It felt as though my eardrums had ruptured and I was dazed. The lightening strike was a jaw-dropping terrifying experience; the effects of which cannot truly be described, only experienced. The sound was a loud SNAP with a metallic odor. On the way down that afternoon the rain came down in such a torrent that the trails were like rivers. I soon realized that I was not able to avoid getting my boots wet and I just waded in ankle to knee-deep water for a couple of miles. Also, I learned another lesson. I hadn’t packed properly. We’ve all read the admonitions about planning for the worst case but I hadn’t this time, after all, it was summer! This was my first and only experience with an “hypothermia” issue. I became soaked to the bone and shivering cold. I reached the Fishin’ Jimmy trail intersection and couldn’t figure out which way to turn. I was scared. I had been past that area several times in hikes with my kids to Lonesome Lake hut. But my physical state impacted my mental state and I had to sit down in the pouring grain and fish out my trail maps to figure it out. It took me a long time to figure out where I was and where to go. I now know that I was experiencing the early stages of hypothermia.
Injuries
Two stick out. The first one involves a mishap in the Presidentials. In 2003 I did a mini Presi traverse of Madison, Adams, and Jefferson. Near the Edmands Col I stepped in a hole and twisted my ankle severely. I should have stopped applied appropriate first aid. Yet a thunder storm was approaching and we had a lot of ground to cover. My hiking partner tried to gently hurry me along because even with our typically slower than average pace we could have made it to the hut easily before the storm hit. But I was literally dragging my foot at this stage and was barely able to walk. If you’ve experienced a storm in high elevations you know what they’re like. We hunkered down in a safe (but decidedly not dry) spot and watched as the storm flew over us dropping endless sheets of rain atop us. When we finally got the hut my ankle was perhaps three times its normal size. As the last arriver I had the worst-located bunk 3 levels up beside the loud banging door. I remember lying in bed awake most of the night alternately focusing on the sharp pain of my ankle as it throbbed in time with each heart beat as I was inundated with about 10 people snoring. I tried to imagine a rhythmic melody of these two competing sensory sensations in order to reach some peaceful sleep. Unfortunately, the snoring rhythms weren’t particularly consistent so my quest for musical harmony was in vain. Turns out that one of the worst aspects of the experience was the fact that all that hydration caused many a trip to the bathroom. Climbing down the bunk on that ankle and hobbling to the bathroom was tortuous! Hiking back down the Ammo was true agony. All the walking I did on the ankle those two days has permanently damaged it. To this day it aches for 24 hours after every hike.
The second injury involves someone else. On an over-40 AMC tour to Isolation our tour guide, who turned out to be a diabetic, was having trouble keeping up with us. Eventually he made it to the top. But on the way back he collapsed and had to receive treatment from the co-leader. He explained that he had changed his meds and they weren’t’ agreeing with him. I remember watching him collapse heavily sprawl out on the trail totally unconscious. He eventually came to and walked back down at a snail’s pace. I stayed with him and didn’t get back to the car until after dark.
It seemed auspicious that there was a bright “Full Corn” Moon the night before I climbed my 48th. It was so bright that I think it could have lit the way up the mountain. As I reflect on completing the 4000-footers I have a mixture of competing emotions. For awhile I felt that such very specific goals were inconsistent with the joy of hiking and climbing. After awhile I got past this, particularly as I so much of my hiking was not involved with the 48. Much of my present joy comes from the fact that I have been blessed with the ability to be able to appreciate the natural beauty of the White Mountains. Not just the peaks, but the views, the streams, the history, the sights around each bend, the wildlife and the vast stretches of wilderness. The companionship of my hiking partner, Michael, has been an important part of the enjoyment. In a perverse way I can now smile at the aches and pains, the black flies, the bloody shins, that endless walk back along Lincoln Woods and the times I’ve had to strap on a head lamp after a slower-than-book-time descent so I could find my way back after the sun set. How can I also forget my quest for an icy Coffee Coolatta after a hike and the three hour ride home listening to my favorite tunes. All in all I almost feel sad that I’ve finished. But the redeeming feature is that the mountains will be there tomorrow.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/kurchian/sets/72157622146215499/
Last edited:
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