JohnL
New member
Rick and I met at our usual place though a bit earlier than normal. We picked up Giff off of Exit 28 and we were on our way. We unloaded and knowing that I was the slowest skier, I took off a couple minutes ahead of the other two. It was 7:10. The air was quite brisk but the only wind during the ski in was at the parking lot. The early morning side lighting as we skied along the Wilderness Trail was pleasant and warming to the eyes. Giff cruised along ahead of Rick and I as we chatted about this and that and nothing in particular. The tracks were icy in a lot of spots so we had to take care not to end up on the ground as it is a bear to get yourself back up.
We reached the bridge where I took off my skis. No sense ending up in the river at the beginning of the day. I crossed the bridge, put my skis back on and got going on the now narrowed Wilderness Trail where I promptly took my requisite fall. Luckily there were no cameras in the hands of either Rick or Giff to record the hilarious event. Such a spaz! I struggled back up and with Rick behind me to lend moral support, I flailed my way up the trail, with Giff about 50 yards ahead of us. The skiing was not that bad but it was my first time on skis this year and skiing is not one of my stronger skills anyway. So when I saw Giff pull into the Bondcliff Trail, I was quietly whispering a sigh of relief. We’d been on skis for only 90 minutes but to me it seemed a bit longer.
We skied up the trail a short ways before stashing our boots and skis behind a set of trees to the side of the trail. It was a relief to get the extra weight of my hiking boots off of my back. We grabbed a quick snack and a drink and we were soon heading up the path, talking about how fine the trail conditions were as we kept the snowshoes on our backs. We moved right along, checking out the color of the sky, the noise of the wind over our heads, a few songbirds chirping at us, the contrast between the bright sunlight and the deep shadows in the thick woods.
Giff was unusually quiet, even by his standards, so when he suddenly stopped in the middle of the slope and announced his intention of heading back down, I was a bit startled . Giff is one of the strongest hikers I know and to see him give up is unusual in the extreme. He must be fighting something that is eating at his reserves. Rick talked him into taking over the lead, and thus controlling the pace and Giff agreed. We continued on up the hill at a decent pace, gazing out to our left to the ever increasing number of views. We stopped short of treeline where we geared up for the wind. One big scramble over the ledges and we were on our way to the open slopes of Bondcliff where the winds were beating at us. The clarity of the sky was numbing at we were assaulted by the sensory overload. The crisp sight of the distant ridges was is if we were looking at layer upon layer in a 3D photo viewer. Unfortunately this is where Giff headed down. We shook hands at the summit and wished him a safe hike down.
It was 11:20 when we topped out and I had been snapping photos since we popped above treeline and now my right hand was beginning to feel the effects. Bare skin on bare metal at these windchills was creating a nasty burning sensation so I popped my hand back into my mitt and waited for the warm up. It would not happen completely during the hike. My right hand did not fully warm back up until after taking my shower at home around 9:00PM. But I continued to snap numerous photos all day long though I was careful to not keep the hand out of the mitt for too long. Rick and I continued along reveling in the distant sights which were absolutely wondrous. Rick would turn part way around to check to ensure I was close and he would continue his pirouette to give himself a 360 degree panorama on the turn. I can’t tell you how many times he did this. It was hilarious!
The wind faded away for the most part as we made our way into the Bond-Bondcliff Col and I actually began to heat up again. I tugged at the balaclava to get it away from my mouth and nose to give my face a bit of ventilation. We entered the scrub forest heading up to Bond and it was like a fairytale forest with the trees covered in snow, the bright sun and the distant spectacles. We reached Mt Bond’s summit at 12:05 and were treated to a spectacular view of the Presidential and Franconia Ranges. Rick and I were speechless and giddy. We babbled to each other about the unrivaled beauty of this trip despite the rigors of getting out here. This was our third winter Bonds trip in the past four seasons and they don’t get any better than today’s.
Rick had seen two people ahead of us when we were in the Col so we knew that we would see others along the way out here. The trail down to the West Bond Spur Trail had outstanding views with some excellent photo opportunities with the varied foregrounds. Mt Garfield stood out like I have never seen it before. West Bond seemed to be detached from the rest of my sensory reality and seemed to be placed there on an additional dimension in space. We dropped our packs at the beginning of the spur trail, had our first mini-lunch and headed out to West Bond. This trail is notorious for eye gouging, neck scratching, shoulder piercing and head butting branches so constant vigilance is required. Last year, returning from West Bond I was victim to one of the head butters, and it knocked me over backward. Lesson learned for this year. We met up with the couple Rick had seen earlier and had a friendly chat with them. They told us of another guy right behind them who had finished his winter 48 on top of West Bond. We soon ran into him, Chip, and we both congratulated him on his 48th and had a pleasant chat with him as well. We continued on and were soon on top. The views and the lighting were outstanding and I took a couple sets of photos that I stitched together as panoramas.
We were both getting cold and we headed down, gathered our packs and made our way back up to Mt Bond at 1:30, meeting another solo hiker on the way. I took a few more photos from the summit and we headed down. We could see Chip and the couple ahead of us on their way to Bondcliff. Rick and I both commented to each other how the section between Bond and Bondcliff , in this direction, is our favorite trail sections in the Whites. So with Rick ahead of me, I decided to record what it looked like to hike that entire section. I took a series of photos of Rick making his way up the trail to the summit of Bondcliff and these are in the photo link below (The Bonds #2).
We caught up to John & his S.O. (the couple on West Bond) and chatted with her while John went back on the trail to find a liter of water he had cached earlier. She told us they had moved our packs ever so slightly (“We were just being brats!”) to freak us out but we barely noticed. We all had a good chuckle about it and the “brat factor” they had added to our trip. We continued on, topping out on Bondcliff again at 2:10, taking another series of photos, not wanting to leave, looking around and getting giddy again, and finally dropping down over the ledge and into the woods. We stopped a short ways down in a sunny spot to remove the wind gear and have a thermos break. Rick gobbled down his soup and I sipped at my still piping hot cocoa. It was just what the Dr ordered. It really picked us up for the last nine miles and down we headed, meeting up with a half dozen or more people on their way up or skiing.
We caught up with Chip again about a mile from the Wilderness Trail and had a short chat with him before we continued down the trail. Shortly we stopped to gather our skis, change my boots, and I took the short walk down to the Wilderness Trail where Rick and Chip were talking. It was 3:45. Chip still had a big grin on his face and he was elated at having finished in style in such a great place. He had hiked in the previous weekend but breaking trail solo was just a bit too much. We again congratulated him and headed down the trail, skiing into the lowering sun. With the number of skiers who had come in after us, the track was significantly easier for me and I cruised out with Rick right behind. Near the bridge, I took my skis off to walk across the bridge and with Rick ahead, he yelled back to watch out for the ice. I was looking for it but for some reason did not see it until after I had fallen down like a ton of bricks. No harm and no photos. Phew! The ski out was enjoyable but at the end of a long day like we just had, it was never ending. I mentally ticked off the little milestones along the way and finally I could see Rick making the left turn over the bridge. I took my skis off and walked over the bridge and up to the car. It was 5:05 and I was ready to sit down. The ride home was a series of reminisces about the fabulous day. The crux of the day was getting out of Rick's car (groan creek owwooh) and getting into my cold car.
Congratulations again to Chip on finishing his 48 Winter Whites.
Photos are here. Two albums.
JohnL
We reached the bridge where I took off my skis. No sense ending up in the river at the beginning of the day. I crossed the bridge, put my skis back on and got going on the now narrowed Wilderness Trail where I promptly took my requisite fall. Luckily there were no cameras in the hands of either Rick or Giff to record the hilarious event. Such a spaz! I struggled back up and with Rick behind me to lend moral support, I flailed my way up the trail, with Giff about 50 yards ahead of us. The skiing was not that bad but it was my first time on skis this year and skiing is not one of my stronger skills anyway. So when I saw Giff pull into the Bondcliff Trail, I was quietly whispering a sigh of relief. We’d been on skis for only 90 minutes but to me it seemed a bit longer.
We skied up the trail a short ways before stashing our boots and skis behind a set of trees to the side of the trail. It was a relief to get the extra weight of my hiking boots off of my back. We grabbed a quick snack and a drink and we were soon heading up the path, talking about how fine the trail conditions were as we kept the snowshoes on our backs. We moved right along, checking out the color of the sky, the noise of the wind over our heads, a few songbirds chirping at us, the contrast between the bright sunlight and the deep shadows in the thick woods.
Giff was unusually quiet, even by his standards, so when he suddenly stopped in the middle of the slope and announced his intention of heading back down, I was a bit startled . Giff is one of the strongest hikers I know and to see him give up is unusual in the extreme. He must be fighting something that is eating at his reserves. Rick talked him into taking over the lead, and thus controlling the pace and Giff agreed. We continued on up the hill at a decent pace, gazing out to our left to the ever increasing number of views. We stopped short of treeline where we geared up for the wind. One big scramble over the ledges and we were on our way to the open slopes of Bondcliff where the winds were beating at us. The clarity of the sky was numbing at we were assaulted by the sensory overload. The crisp sight of the distant ridges was is if we were looking at layer upon layer in a 3D photo viewer. Unfortunately this is where Giff headed down. We shook hands at the summit and wished him a safe hike down.
It was 11:20 when we topped out and I had been snapping photos since we popped above treeline and now my right hand was beginning to feel the effects. Bare skin on bare metal at these windchills was creating a nasty burning sensation so I popped my hand back into my mitt and waited for the warm up. It would not happen completely during the hike. My right hand did not fully warm back up until after taking my shower at home around 9:00PM. But I continued to snap numerous photos all day long though I was careful to not keep the hand out of the mitt for too long. Rick and I continued along reveling in the distant sights which were absolutely wondrous. Rick would turn part way around to check to ensure I was close and he would continue his pirouette to give himself a 360 degree panorama on the turn. I can’t tell you how many times he did this. It was hilarious!
The wind faded away for the most part as we made our way into the Bond-Bondcliff Col and I actually began to heat up again. I tugged at the balaclava to get it away from my mouth and nose to give my face a bit of ventilation. We entered the scrub forest heading up to Bond and it was like a fairytale forest with the trees covered in snow, the bright sun and the distant spectacles. We reached Mt Bond’s summit at 12:05 and were treated to a spectacular view of the Presidential and Franconia Ranges. Rick and I were speechless and giddy. We babbled to each other about the unrivaled beauty of this trip despite the rigors of getting out here. This was our third winter Bonds trip in the past four seasons and they don’t get any better than today’s.
Rick had seen two people ahead of us when we were in the Col so we knew that we would see others along the way out here. The trail down to the West Bond Spur Trail had outstanding views with some excellent photo opportunities with the varied foregrounds. Mt Garfield stood out like I have never seen it before. West Bond seemed to be detached from the rest of my sensory reality and seemed to be placed there on an additional dimension in space. We dropped our packs at the beginning of the spur trail, had our first mini-lunch and headed out to West Bond. This trail is notorious for eye gouging, neck scratching, shoulder piercing and head butting branches so constant vigilance is required. Last year, returning from West Bond I was victim to one of the head butters, and it knocked me over backward. Lesson learned for this year. We met up with the couple Rick had seen earlier and had a friendly chat with them. They told us of another guy right behind them who had finished his winter 48 on top of West Bond. We soon ran into him, Chip, and we both congratulated him on his 48th and had a pleasant chat with him as well. We continued on and were soon on top. The views and the lighting were outstanding and I took a couple sets of photos that I stitched together as panoramas.
We were both getting cold and we headed down, gathered our packs and made our way back up to Mt Bond at 1:30, meeting another solo hiker on the way. I took a few more photos from the summit and we headed down. We could see Chip and the couple ahead of us on their way to Bondcliff. Rick and I both commented to each other how the section between Bond and Bondcliff , in this direction, is our favorite trail sections in the Whites. So with Rick ahead of me, I decided to record what it looked like to hike that entire section. I took a series of photos of Rick making his way up the trail to the summit of Bondcliff and these are in the photo link below (The Bonds #2).
We caught up to John & his S.O. (the couple on West Bond) and chatted with her while John went back on the trail to find a liter of water he had cached earlier. She told us they had moved our packs ever so slightly (“We were just being brats!”) to freak us out but we barely noticed. We all had a good chuckle about it and the “brat factor” they had added to our trip. We continued on, topping out on Bondcliff again at 2:10, taking another series of photos, not wanting to leave, looking around and getting giddy again, and finally dropping down over the ledge and into the woods. We stopped a short ways down in a sunny spot to remove the wind gear and have a thermos break. Rick gobbled down his soup and I sipped at my still piping hot cocoa. It was just what the Dr ordered. It really picked us up for the last nine miles and down we headed, meeting up with a half dozen or more people on their way up or skiing.
We caught up with Chip again about a mile from the Wilderness Trail and had a short chat with him before we continued down the trail. Shortly we stopped to gather our skis, change my boots, and I took the short walk down to the Wilderness Trail where Rick and Chip were talking. It was 3:45. Chip still had a big grin on his face and he was elated at having finished in style in such a great place. He had hiked in the previous weekend but breaking trail solo was just a bit too much. We again congratulated him and headed down the trail, skiing into the lowering sun. With the number of skiers who had come in after us, the track was significantly easier for me and I cruised out with Rick right behind. Near the bridge, I took my skis off to walk across the bridge and with Rick ahead, he yelled back to watch out for the ice. I was looking for it but for some reason did not see it until after I had fallen down like a ton of bricks. No harm and no photos. Phew! The ski out was enjoyable but at the end of a long day like we just had, it was never ending. I mentally ticked off the little milestones along the way and finally I could see Rick making the left turn over the bridge. I took my skis off and walked over the bridge and up to the car. It was 5:05 and I was ready to sit down. The ride home was a series of reminisces about the fabulous day. The crux of the day was getting out of Rick's car (groan creek owwooh) and getting into my cold car.
Congratulations again to Chip on finishing his 48 Winter Whites.
Photos are here. Two albums.
JohnL
