king tut
New member
Many moons ago, I was a scrawny little blond haired kid rocking an Incredible Hulk tank top. The first “real” hike I can remember was when my parents took my brother and The Hulk up to Mt Katahdin to go backpacking. I was somewhere around 8 or 9 years old, and the first hiking memory that I have is of all of us sleeping out in the lean-to at Chimney Pond and hearing the bears rummaging through the dumpsters at night time. I don’t think I knew fear back then, I thought bears were just fluffy fun cartoon animals after Pic a Nic baskets. At some point during this trip, my dad convinced my mom to bring all us kids to Baxter Peak and then over the Knife Edge. I don’t remember a lot from my youth, but I can vividly recall my dad clinging on to me as I walked across the section that is 3-4 feet wide with the precipitous drop down to the pond and a mighty wind howling. I don’t remember if I was frightened or not, but all the other half dozen times I have ever done the Knife Edge again, I wondered how DHS did not take us away from our parents after that trip.
So, I guess I had hiking instilled in me at a young age, and after you hike the Knife Edge, I guess there is not much more you can do to scare a kid. We hiked a few of the other 4k’s growing up, mostly around the Sugarloaf area in Maine, as that was a second home to us. There was also the occasional trips up big George Washington, but most of my summers were spent playing soccer, or track, or baseball, or any other sport imaginable. It wasn’t until my post collegiate years that I got back into hiking. I sampled a few of the Vermont 4k’s in college, but I was too busy trying to consume beer and impress women. I succeeded in only one of those tasks.
After graduating college and feeling a bit out of shape from 4 years of self-indulgence, I tried a few hikes up Mt Abraham and Snow Mountain in Maine. I recall barely surviving the Snow Mt hike from being so out of shape, but what really stuck in my mind was how great it felt to get outside in a remote environment and just clear my mind. I remember just sitting in the stream near the parking area after the hike was done and just feeling content as I soaked in the sunshine.
I didn’t really know about a list or start working on one, until I saw some folks posting about 48 this or 67 that. After hiking the Presidentials, I looked at the lists and realized I had hiked quite a few, so hey, why not hike the rest? So, I guess that is what got me to wake up at 4:45 on a Saturday morning to drive 2 and a ½ hours to New Hampshire to hike two relatively unknown peaks named Passaconaway and Whiteface. I had wanted to hike these peaks from the Blueberry Ledges from Ferncroft, but coming from Vermont there was no direct or remotely easy way to get to that trailhead that did not involve adding a solid hour and a half of driving onto my day, so I settled for doing the hike from the Kancamagus highway. A funny thing happened after starting the descent from the 2855 foot high point of the road. I saw an SUV in front of me driving 30 miles an hour with their emergency lights flashing. What the heck is going on?? As I got closer, I noticed that there was a longboarder descending the Kanc at 30 miles an hour. At first I was annoyed that this person was slowing me up, then I became concerned that they might go splat into the pavement if they fell, and then last I was a bit surprised when I passed them on a long straightaway that it was a young female and I saw her eyes look at me when I passed her, and she kind of gave me that “Hell Yeah!” look. Well, god bless that crazy chick, hope she made it down in one piece.
I started the trek from the Oliverian Brook parking lot at around 7:30 in the morning, and quickly hiked the first 3 + miles in the first hour. Then, the trail went up! And up! And I started to bonk as I was hiking on relatively little rest and muggy weather.
View of Hedgehog Mt
I ascended via the Passaconaway Cut Off trail, and the Square Ledge Trail and made it to the top of Passaconaway in a little over two hours, a little less than five miles into the hike I believe. #66, only one more to go! I devoured a sandwich and then headed over towards Whiteface.
The trek over to Whiteface was only around 2 to 2.5 miles, but it felt like an eternity. The muggy weather had formed a constant drip from the brim of my baseball cap. I thought I was in relatively good shape before this hike, but apparently my lack of sleep and rest lately had caught up to me. I plodded my way up to the Whiteface ridgeline, and came upon a cairn in the middle of the woods. Not knowing whether or not this was the true summit, I pulled out my gps, and realized that this was some sort of subpeak of the range, my true summit was still a hundred yards or so away. I came out into a clearing, and saw the signs, and realized that my journey was over. I stood upon the rock, made sure I was at the highest point, and then snapped a picture.
I was neither elated to be finished or relieved to be done my list. I sat out upon the cliffs and just listened to the sound of silence. It was so peaceful, it was like the world just slowed down and stopped for me to enjoy the moment. This was the perfect spot for me to finish and reflect upon being done. After about 15 minutes or relaxing, I grabbed my pack and headed down my last New England 4k mountain. For the return trip, I picked the Downes Brook trail. Apparently some twisted soul decided to build a trail full of wet slick rocks, and not less than 10 stream crossings. I pictured some guy in the woods at each crossing staring at me and waiting for me to slip into the river or lose the trail on the opposite side of the stream. Every time I fell in or searched for the trail, he would high five his buddy who helped him build this trail. Perhaps my mind was wandering now?
Near the end of the trail, I decided to try to take the XC ski trail and hook back up with the Oliverian Brook trail. I took a wrong turn though and started hiking up Hedgehog Mountain. When I realized my error, I decided to bushwack 1/3 of a mile or so through the woods to find the XC trail or one of the roads reflected on my gps. That 1/3 of a mile turned into 2/3 of a mile and a few scrapes and cuts on my legs. Oh well! It did not turn out to be a shortcut.
GPS track
Elevation Change
So the journey is done now, and I can spend my weekends going to Bed Bath and Beyond with my fiancé or picking out flowers and favors for our wedding this fall. It is an exciting and dangerous life that I lead. So, that’s the story of how I finished up the 67 within 25 years. I no longer wear incredible hulk t shirts, but that is mostly because I cannot find a sleeveless Hulk adult t shirt. Maybe some things are better left in the eighties…
So, I guess I had hiking instilled in me at a young age, and after you hike the Knife Edge, I guess there is not much more you can do to scare a kid. We hiked a few of the other 4k’s growing up, mostly around the Sugarloaf area in Maine, as that was a second home to us. There was also the occasional trips up big George Washington, but most of my summers were spent playing soccer, or track, or baseball, or any other sport imaginable. It wasn’t until my post collegiate years that I got back into hiking. I sampled a few of the Vermont 4k’s in college, but I was too busy trying to consume beer and impress women. I succeeded in only one of those tasks.
After graduating college and feeling a bit out of shape from 4 years of self-indulgence, I tried a few hikes up Mt Abraham and Snow Mountain in Maine. I recall barely surviving the Snow Mt hike from being so out of shape, but what really stuck in my mind was how great it felt to get outside in a remote environment and just clear my mind. I remember just sitting in the stream near the parking area after the hike was done and just feeling content as I soaked in the sunshine.
I didn’t really know about a list or start working on one, until I saw some folks posting about 48 this or 67 that. After hiking the Presidentials, I looked at the lists and realized I had hiked quite a few, so hey, why not hike the rest? So, I guess that is what got me to wake up at 4:45 on a Saturday morning to drive 2 and a ½ hours to New Hampshire to hike two relatively unknown peaks named Passaconaway and Whiteface. I had wanted to hike these peaks from the Blueberry Ledges from Ferncroft, but coming from Vermont there was no direct or remotely easy way to get to that trailhead that did not involve adding a solid hour and a half of driving onto my day, so I settled for doing the hike from the Kancamagus highway. A funny thing happened after starting the descent from the 2855 foot high point of the road. I saw an SUV in front of me driving 30 miles an hour with their emergency lights flashing. What the heck is going on?? As I got closer, I noticed that there was a longboarder descending the Kanc at 30 miles an hour. At first I was annoyed that this person was slowing me up, then I became concerned that they might go splat into the pavement if they fell, and then last I was a bit surprised when I passed them on a long straightaway that it was a young female and I saw her eyes look at me when I passed her, and she kind of gave me that “Hell Yeah!” look. Well, god bless that crazy chick, hope she made it down in one piece.
I started the trek from the Oliverian Brook parking lot at around 7:30 in the morning, and quickly hiked the first 3 + miles in the first hour. Then, the trail went up! And up! And I started to bonk as I was hiking on relatively little rest and muggy weather.
View of Hedgehog Mt
I ascended via the Passaconaway Cut Off trail, and the Square Ledge Trail and made it to the top of Passaconaway in a little over two hours, a little less than five miles into the hike I believe. #66, only one more to go! I devoured a sandwich and then headed over towards Whiteface.
The trek over to Whiteface was only around 2 to 2.5 miles, but it felt like an eternity. The muggy weather had formed a constant drip from the brim of my baseball cap. I thought I was in relatively good shape before this hike, but apparently my lack of sleep and rest lately had caught up to me. I plodded my way up to the Whiteface ridgeline, and came upon a cairn in the middle of the woods. Not knowing whether or not this was the true summit, I pulled out my gps, and realized that this was some sort of subpeak of the range, my true summit was still a hundred yards or so away. I came out into a clearing, and saw the signs, and realized that my journey was over. I stood upon the rock, made sure I was at the highest point, and then snapped a picture.
I was neither elated to be finished or relieved to be done my list. I sat out upon the cliffs and just listened to the sound of silence. It was so peaceful, it was like the world just slowed down and stopped for me to enjoy the moment. This was the perfect spot for me to finish and reflect upon being done. After about 15 minutes or relaxing, I grabbed my pack and headed down my last New England 4k mountain. For the return trip, I picked the Downes Brook trail. Apparently some twisted soul decided to build a trail full of wet slick rocks, and not less than 10 stream crossings. I pictured some guy in the woods at each crossing staring at me and waiting for me to slip into the river or lose the trail on the opposite side of the stream. Every time I fell in or searched for the trail, he would high five his buddy who helped him build this trail. Perhaps my mind was wandering now?
Near the end of the trail, I decided to try to take the XC ski trail and hook back up with the Oliverian Brook trail. I took a wrong turn though and started hiking up Hedgehog Mountain. When I realized my error, I decided to bushwack 1/3 of a mile or so through the woods to find the XC trail or one of the roads reflected on my gps. That 1/3 of a mile turned into 2/3 of a mile and a few scrapes and cuts on my legs. Oh well! It did not turn out to be a shortcut.
GPS track
Elevation Change
So the journey is done now, and I can spend my weekends going to Bed Bath and Beyond with my fiancé or picking out flowers and favors for our wedding this fall. It is an exciting and dangerous life that I lead. So, that’s the story of how I finished up the 67 within 25 years. I no longer wear incredible hulk t shirts, but that is mostly because I cannot find a sleeveless Hulk adult t shirt. Maybe some things are better left in the eighties…
