Bobby
Active member
He was scouring over maps and trail guides. He gleaned information from those wiser than he, from sources such as Views From the Top and Rocks on Top. Over his lifetime, he made countless visits to the mountainous region north of his home. He climbed the peaks, and took in the beauty that nature had to offer. Some of the summits he reached offered no views, as their summits were in the trees. The Hiker accepted this, as he simply enjoyed being outdoors. He has also reached the peaks of mountains above tree line, and they offered amazing views. There were also some peaks that the Hiker sat atop that he had been told offer breathtaking scenery. On the days the Hiker visited those peaks, clouds and fog denied him the views he sought. He vowed to return, and take in the beauty the mountains hid from him. One such area was Bondcliff. The Hiker made his decision – a return to Bondcliff. This would be a solo venture, as recent events have made it difficult for him to plan in advance.
Several hours before the dawn broke, the Hiker awoke. He climbed aboard his faithful white steed and began the journey to the north. He had a large goblet of the magical hot, black brew that roused the sluggish, and he soon was fully alert. His ride to the northlands went quickly, aided by a visit to an Inn, easily recognized by its Arches of Gold, and there got nourishment.
Before long, the Hiker arrived at his destination, the Woods of Lincoln. He put on his boots, provided by the people of Lowa. The boots were treated with a blend that made them impervious to water and other leakage. On his back was a rucksack that carried all he would need for his journey. He had rations, water, and an elixir, blue in color, that when consumed, would restart the tired body. In his hands the Hiker carried his titanium staffs, which when used properly, would keep the Hiker balanced and assist him in times of need. The sun shone brightly, with nary a cloud in the deep blue sky.
The Hiker met several people he knew in the parking area. He spoke with Hiker Bob for a few minutes, but never caught up with the elusive Poison Ivy. As he walked along the trail, he became aware of people behind him. The Hiker hoped they were of the friendly sorts. In short order, they caught up with him. It was LRiz and Cath, who wore shoes that propelled them faster and further than the Hiker could imagine. Pleasantries were exchanged, and LRiz and Cath were gone in a flash. He met the ladies once more, but only because they stopped for a break.
The Hiker moved along, crossing Franconia Brook on a bridge. He came to a sign reading “Pemigewasset Wilderness.” What would this section have in store for him, he wondered. There were no paint blazes marking the trail, nor was there mileage posted on the signs. He also noticed that conveniences such as bog bridges were non-existent. In one area he came to a mud pit, and made the attempt to cross on stones. Alas, he slipped off of a rock and went into the mud. The coating on the boot performed wonderfully, however, the mud went over the top of his boot and then inside. Fortunately for the Hiker, no one was in the area to witness him trying to maintain his balance before the slip into the mud.
The Hiker made his way to the trail leading to Bondcliff. Along the way he crossed Black Brook several times, each without incident. He came to a steep section of trail. The trail here had been transformed into a rock staircase, apparently the work of trail gnomes. He was grateful for their efforts; as to have to climb the steep area otherwise would have challenging at best. Soon, he reached the top of the stone staircase, and now began a gentle walk beneath the legendary cliffs. It was here that he saw that the trees grew short. For the Hiker, this was a welcome sight, for it meant that he neared the Alpine Zone, the area above tree line. On this day, that would mean unimpeded views. He was pleased.
Upon reaching the tree line, the Hiker was indeed amazed at what he saw. The views that were denied him two years ago were worth the effort he made to go back. He was finally able to take in the view of Bondcliff, undoubtedly one of the more famed spots in these White Mountains. The Hiker reached the summit and thoroughly enjoyed the scenery in all points of his compass. He asked a fellow hiker to help memorialize the moment, and the fellow hiker was happy to accommodate. He then enjoyed a fine meal on the mountaintop, along with sips of the amazing blue elixir. He sat and enjoyed his meal and the scenery. Thus restored and rested, the Hiker began his descent.
Just below the summit, he met a man on his way up. On this day, the man would complete his quest to reach the summits of all peaks over four thousand feet. The Hiker offered hearty congratulations and wished him well. It was a pleasant down hill trek for the Hiker, albeit not without a few more mud pit visits. As he descended, he encountered many more people on their way up to take pleasure in of the views provided on this superior day. He came to the trail junction and began the final long, flat trek out of the woods. He observed artifacts left over from the days of logging in this area. He saw an old washtub, several sled runners and a large gear. He knew that these items were ancient, and thus protected, and not to be disturbed. It appeared that others were not aware of the rules, as some items seemed to have been moved.
He reached the edge of Wilderness, and across the bridge saw many people. They were enjoying the cascades and the relief cold mountain water brought from the heat of the day. These people were in much better condition than the sweat-soaked and mud covered Hiker. They too enjoyed their day, just in a different way than he had.
Nearing his trusty white steed, the Hiker saw another friend, Christa. He was surprised to encounter her here, and it was indeed nice to speak with her. Christa was on her way to Franconia Falls to await the arrival of Steve and the intrepid gang from their passage across the Bonds. As the Hiker and Christa spoke, JDR6453 and Becky walked upon them. Christa continued to the Falls, and Joe, Becky and the Hiker continued to the end of the trail.
Finally reaching the white steed, the Hiker enjoyed the finest mead, ice cold, from a silver metallic container. The container was adorned with an artist’s rendition of mountains, a fitting conclusion to the outstanding day that the Hiker enjoyed. The Hiker left the area, with fond memories of the exceptional day he had.
Okay, seriously, it was great to see Hiker Bob, and I was sorry to have missed Poison Ivy. It was a pleasure to finally meet LRiz and Cath as they blazed by me, and I was pleasantly surprised to run into Christa, Joe and Becky at the days end. A stop into the Mountain Wanderer for some goodies for the kids, and a nice chat with Steve ended the day.
Days like this make me realize that I need more days like this!
Photos from the journey http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=0IZNnDNozasWOq&emid=sharshar&linkid=link3&cid=EMsharshar
Several hours before the dawn broke, the Hiker awoke. He climbed aboard his faithful white steed and began the journey to the north. He had a large goblet of the magical hot, black brew that roused the sluggish, and he soon was fully alert. His ride to the northlands went quickly, aided by a visit to an Inn, easily recognized by its Arches of Gold, and there got nourishment.
Before long, the Hiker arrived at his destination, the Woods of Lincoln. He put on his boots, provided by the people of Lowa. The boots were treated with a blend that made them impervious to water and other leakage. On his back was a rucksack that carried all he would need for his journey. He had rations, water, and an elixir, blue in color, that when consumed, would restart the tired body. In his hands the Hiker carried his titanium staffs, which when used properly, would keep the Hiker balanced and assist him in times of need. The sun shone brightly, with nary a cloud in the deep blue sky.
The Hiker met several people he knew in the parking area. He spoke with Hiker Bob for a few minutes, but never caught up with the elusive Poison Ivy. As he walked along the trail, he became aware of people behind him. The Hiker hoped they were of the friendly sorts. In short order, they caught up with him. It was LRiz and Cath, who wore shoes that propelled them faster and further than the Hiker could imagine. Pleasantries were exchanged, and LRiz and Cath were gone in a flash. He met the ladies once more, but only because they stopped for a break.
The Hiker moved along, crossing Franconia Brook on a bridge. He came to a sign reading “Pemigewasset Wilderness.” What would this section have in store for him, he wondered. There were no paint blazes marking the trail, nor was there mileage posted on the signs. He also noticed that conveniences such as bog bridges were non-existent. In one area he came to a mud pit, and made the attempt to cross on stones. Alas, he slipped off of a rock and went into the mud. The coating on the boot performed wonderfully, however, the mud went over the top of his boot and then inside. Fortunately for the Hiker, no one was in the area to witness him trying to maintain his balance before the slip into the mud.
The Hiker made his way to the trail leading to Bondcliff. Along the way he crossed Black Brook several times, each without incident. He came to a steep section of trail. The trail here had been transformed into a rock staircase, apparently the work of trail gnomes. He was grateful for their efforts; as to have to climb the steep area otherwise would have challenging at best. Soon, he reached the top of the stone staircase, and now began a gentle walk beneath the legendary cliffs. It was here that he saw that the trees grew short. For the Hiker, this was a welcome sight, for it meant that he neared the Alpine Zone, the area above tree line. On this day, that would mean unimpeded views. He was pleased.
Upon reaching the tree line, the Hiker was indeed amazed at what he saw. The views that were denied him two years ago were worth the effort he made to go back. He was finally able to take in the view of Bondcliff, undoubtedly one of the more famed spots in these White Mountains. The Hiker reached the summit and thoroughly enjoyed the scenery in all points of his compass. He asked a fellow hiker to help memorialize the moment, and the fellow hiker was happy to accommodate. He then enjoyed a fine meal on the mountaintop, along with sips of the amazing blue elixir. He sat and enjoyed his meal and the scenery. Thus restored and rested, the Hiker began his descent.
Just below the summit, he met a man on his way up. On this day, the man would complete his quest to reach the summits of all peaks over four thousand feet. The Hiker offered hearty congratulations and wished him well. It was a pleasant down hill trek for the Hiker, albeit not without a few more mud pit visits. As he descended, he encountered many more people on their way up to take pleasure in of the views provided on this superior day. He came to the trail junction and began the final long, flat trek out of the woods. He observed artifacts left over from the days of logging in this area. He saw an old washtub, several sled runners and a large gear. He knew that these items were ancient, and thus protected, and not to be disturbed. It appeared that others were not aware of the rules, as some items seemed to have been moved.
He reached the edge of Wilderness, and across the bridge saw many people. They were enjoying the cascades and the relief cold mountain water brought from the heat of the day. These people were in much better condition than the sweat-soaked and mud covered Hiker. They too enjoyed their day, just in a different way than he had.
Nearing his trusty white steed, the Hiker saw another friend, Christa. He was surprised to encounter her here, and it was indeed nice to speak with her. Christa was on her way to Franconia Falls to await the arrival of Steve and the intrepid gang from their passage across the Bonds. As the Hiker and Christa spoke, JDR6453 and Becky walked upon them. Christa continued to the Falls, and Joe, Becky and the Hiker continued to the end of the trail.
Finally reaching the white steed, the Hiker enjoyed the finest mead, ice cold, from a silver metallic container. The container was adorned with an artist’s rendition of mountains, a fitting conclusion to the outstanding day that the Hiker enjoyed. The Hiker left the area, with fond memories of the exceptional day he had.
Okay, seriously, it was great to see Hiker Bob, and I was sorry to have missed Poison Ivy. It was a pleasure to finally meet LRiz and Cath as they blazed by me, and I was pleasantly surprised to run into Christa, Joe and Becky at the days end. A stop into the Mountain Wanderer for some goodies for the kids, and a nice chat with Steve ended the day.
Days like this make me realize that I need more days like this!
Photos from the journey http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=0IZNnDNozasWOq&emid=sharshar&linkid=link3&cid=EMsharshar
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