--M.
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It seems I'm a junkie for that high plateau, just cannot get enough.
So a friend and I went out for a few days, with a hut stay at Zealand and two nights at Ethan Pond. For straight-up beauty, the view of Guyot and the Bonds from Ethan Pond rivals almost anything I've seen, and reminds me of how intense Yosemite is the first time through.
We both enjoyed our first-ever overnight at an AMC hut. I've always taken grateful advantage of their water and lunch services, but had never stayed. Last Friday, there were six of us, including the caretaker, for the whole joint. What a perfect introduction! The view from the front porch is killer at any time of day or night, and makes a pleasant last outpost before leaving all (well, most) human evidence behind and proceeding into the Pemigewasset Wilderness. I heard that both subsequent nights were fully booked. Not so sure I'd be up for that, but boy was it nice for us! Extra snap for the caretaker ("Dave"), who brought a mellow, sensible vibe to his job. We also enjoyed the company of "Jim" and a father/daughter pair up from Pennsylvania. Great evening in low light.
We had originally discussed going over the Bonds to Lincoln Woods. It seemed the track had been gone over several times lately, and the weather looked good. Upon closer inspection, however, the wind advisory and our two-man number argued for a safer route. It sure was blowing, and Zeacliff was suitably dramatic, and beautifully in the clear! We picked out all the peaks we knew before bounding back down the trail to load up our packs for the walk around Whitewall. We pined for our skis, but with full winter gear, we would have been impossibly top-heavy. Nonetheless, it was my second time through the area and an ultra-light ski day is in order for next season.
When we left the hut, we ran into a Forest Service skier "out on patrol." With the antennae coming out of his pack, we thought at first that it was the caretaker, who was preceding us on the Ethan Pond Trail. We chatted with the him for a while, and headed off to find that Whitewall tilt.
We soon met Dave coming back around, who told us that the trail was broken at least as far as Thoreau Falls.
The exposed section of Whitewall Mountain slopes toward the scree field at the bottom, and the whole thing opened up with views and bright sunlight. My buddy switched briefly to crampons for the traverse; I stayed with snowshoes and angled slightly uphill with each step. The open section is very brief, and we were soon back in the trees.
If you haven't been to Thoreau Falls, it's one of those places that make photography pale, no matter how talented the shooter. Ansel Adams was a genius with a lens, but when you stand in front of Half-Dome for yourself, well, you get the idea. The last time through, we sat with our feet in the water for an hour, looking up at Guyot & Bond. It was a tad more enclosed this time, so we kept our boots on and just bathed in the beautiful scenery.
The trail over to Ethan Pond had had visitors, but not recently, and the track was only faintly discernible once confirmed with a paint blaze. We lost our way a couple times, in one case chasing moose tracks down a corridor for a hundred yards before hunting for blazes. White paint on a snow-covered tree makes for head-shaking, and we often hunted from blaze to blaze, fifty yards at a time.
We made Ethan Pond with about an hour of light left and reveled in the joy of making it home for the night. Crossing the wind-blown pond, dropping heavy packs, seeing the ridgelines in the late afternoon light, it was really incredible. We selected one of the tensites and got down to work, making dinner and doing chores while enjoying some hot Gatorade.
It was moderately cold (5-15* most of the weekend) and very windy that night, and we fretted about blow-down before deciding we had done what we could and went to bed.
On Sunday, we ran and slid on our big powder snowshoes and light packs to pick up Willey. The height of land is about a third of a mile east of Ethan Pond, and the run down from there to the Willey Range Trail was an unbroken beauty. We made the mile in about forty minutes, elated and invigorated when we got there. Just as we did, we met a couple of young guys from Boston who were also heading up. They took a break just as we moved on, so we didn't see them again until we stopped to switch to crampons before the ladders. We were also passed by a solo hiker, moving briskly. I stepped off the trail and stamped out a spot, but as soon as I took off my Tubbses, I sank down another two feet.
As I finished, we heard the SAR chopper up across the street, and hoped for a good outcome. Thank God for good Samaritans!
The trail up from there was steeper and much snowier than the last time I had been (http://vftt.org/forums/showthread.php?t=26771), and the ladders required steps to be kicked in. The snow was soft, however, so we had it okay on the way up. Just near the top, we ran into our faster friend, who had picked up a second teammate for the descent (apparently "Tricia"). She asked us to mention her route to any friends who may inquire, and off they went. We made the top, met the two Bostonians, and pushed down into the col, meeting "Sheepy" and his owner. There were no views from the top this time, so we experimented with spruce traps and enjoyed the ridge.
We would have loved to make it to Field, but the clock said no, so we turned and reascended Willey to drop back to camp. The trail up Willey had been challenging, but it was nothing conmpared to the luge it had turned into since we came up. I guess our fellow travellers had decided for butt-sliding. We opted to keep our crampons on and kicked our way down the chute. We switched back to shoes as soon as possible, and joined the fun.
On our way back to camp, we crossed several skiers coming from Zealand, some walking, some with frozen bindings (not an NNN fan!), some skiing the steep sections. There was also evidence of a sled-puller, ascending to EP, and we wondered if we would have company for dinner. S/he must have continued on, as we again had the camp to ourselves.
After dinner, we went out around the lake, using the trees as a break until we could get upwind and walk back along the edge. The sunset was gorgeous and we hoped for aurora. There was none, but the stars in the wind & spindrift were changing colors and the Guyot ridge was silhouetted in the darkening sky.
We each needed an extra layer to make up for our two-day-old down bags, but made the morning in warm fashion and humped our not-as-heavy packs down to the cars for the ride to Woodstock Station and some chili.
I stopped in at The Mountain Wanderer on my way out to say hi to Steve Smith and pick up a couple copies of the new Four-Thousand Footers book to tempt friends with. "There'll be an open-book test in four weeks. See you then!" We chatted about the Owls Head bushwhack, the cliffs behind Willey and the snow conditions up on the plateau there. I encouraged him to lobby for another reprint of C. Francis Belcher's "Logging Railroads of the White Mountains," just as I beg the Limmer guys to start making three-pin boots again. He laughed and made no promises, but maybe we can get some "Stimulus" money to fund it. Would it be ironic for JE Henry to benefit from Barak Obama? I also saw a NELSAP book there that went on my wish list for next time.
It was another HUGE high-point weekend, and my Pemi jones was satisfied for another season. Next February, it's either Bonds or ski, but one way or another, we'll be back out there.
Next up will be Tuckerman's for another try in late April or early May. Can anyone say if there is a definitive Spring Party Weekend already scheduled? We love Tuck's, but preferably without the stadium seating for thousands. Maybe see you out there!
--Mike
So a friend and I went out for a few days, with a hut stay at Zealand and two nights at Ethan Pond. For straight-up beauty, the view of Guyot and the Bonds from Ethan Pond rivals almost anything I've seen, and reminds me of how intense Yosemite is the first time through.
We both enjoyed our first-ever overnight at an AMC hut. I've always taken grateful advantage of their water and lunch services, but had never stayed. Last Friday, there were six of us, including the caretaker, for the whole joint. What a perfect introduction! The view from the front porch is killer at any time of day or night, and makes a pleasant last outpost before leaving all (well, most) human evidence behind and proceeding into the Pemigewasset Wilderness. I heard that both subsequent nights were fully booked. Not so sure I'd be up for that, but boy was it nice for us! Extra snap for the caretaker ("Dave"), who brought a mellow, sensible vibe to his job. We also enjoyed the company of "Jim" and a father/daughter pair up from Pennsylvania. Great evening in low light.
We had originally discussed going over the Bonds to Lincoln Woods. It seemed the track had been gone over several times lately, and the weather looked good. Upon closer inspection, however, the wind advisory and our two-man number argued for a safer route. It sure was blowing, and Zeacliff was suitably dramatic, and beautifully in the clear! We picked out all the peaks we knew before bounding back down the trail to load up our packs for the walk around Whitewall. We pined for our skis, but with full winter gear, we would have been impossibly top-heavy. Nonetheless, it was my second time through the area and an ultra-light ski day is in order for next season.
When we left the hut, we ran into a Forest Service skier "out on patrol." With the antennae coming out of his pack, we thought at first that it was the caretaker, who was preceding us on the Ethan Pond Trail. We chatted with the him for a while, and headed off to find that Whitewall tilt.
We soon met Dave coming back around, who told us that the trail was broken at least as far as Thoreau Falls.
The exposed section of Whitewall Mountain slopes toward the scree field at the bottom, and the whole thing opened up with views and bright sunlight. My buddy switched briefly to crampons for the traverse; I stayed with snowshoes and angled slightly uphill with each step. The open section is very brief, and we were soon back in the trees.
If you haven't been to Thoreau Falls, it's one of those places that make photography pale, no matter how talented the shooter. Ansel Adams was a genius with a lens, but when you stand in front of Half-Dome for yourself, well, you get the idea. The last time through, we sat with our feet in the water for an hour, looking up at Guyot & Bond. It was a tad more enclosed this time, so we kept our boots on and just bathed in the beautiful scenery.
The trail over to Ethan Pond had had visitors, but not recently, and the track was only faintly discernible once confirmed with a paint blaze. We lost our way a couple times, in one case chasing moose tracks down a corridor for a hundred yards before hunting for blazes. White paint on a snow-covered tree makes for head-shaking, and we often hunted from blaze to blaze, fifty yards at a time.
We made Ethan Pond with about an hour of light left and reveled in the joy of making it home for the night. Crossing the wind-blown pond, dropping heavy packs, seeing the ridgelines in the late afternoon light, it was really incredible. We selected one of the tensites and got down to work, making dinner and doing chores while enjoying some hot Gatorade.
It was moderately cold (5-15* most of the weekend) and very windy that night, and we fretted about blow-down before deciding we had done what we could and went to bed.
On Sunday, we ran and slid on our big powder snowshoes and light packs to pick up Willey. The height of land is about a third of a mile east of Ethan Pond, and the run down from there to the Willey Range Trail was an unbroken beauty. We made the mile in about forty minutes, elated and invigorated when we got there. Just as we did, we met a couple of young guys from Boston who were also heading up. They took a break just as we moved on, so we didn't see them again until we stopped to switch to crampons before the ladders. We were also passed by a solo hiker, moving briskly. I stepped off the trail and stamped out a spot, but as soon as I took off my Tubbses, I sank down another two feet.
As I finished, we heard the SAR chopper up across the street, and hoped for a good outcome. Thank God for good Samaritans!
The trail up from there was steeper and much snowier than the last time I had been (http://vftt.org/forums/showthread.php?t=26771), and the ladders required steps to be kicked in. The snow was soft, however, so we had it okay on the way up. Just near the top, we ran into our faster friend, who had picked up a second teammate for the descent (apparently "Tricia"). She asked us to mention her route to any friends who may inquire, and off they went. We made the top, met the two Bostonians, and pushed down into the col, meeting "Sheepy" and his owner. There were no views from the top this time, so we experimented with spruce traps and enjoyed the ridge.
We would have loved to make it to Field, but the clock said no, so we turned and reascended Willey to drop back to camp. The trail up Willey had been challenging, but it was nothing conmpared to the luge it had turned into since we came up. I guess our fellow travellers had decided for butt-sliding. We opted to keep our crampons on and kicked our way down the chute. We switched back to shoes as soon as possible, and joined the fun.
On our way back to camp, we crossed several skiers coming from Zealand, some walking, some with frozen bindings (not an NNN fan!), some skiing the steep sections. There was also evidence of a sled-puller, ascending to EP, and we wondered if we would have company for dinner. S/he must have continued on, as we again had the camp to ourselves.
After dinner, we went out around the lake, using the trees as a break until we could get upwind and walk back along the edge. The sunset was gorgeous and we hoped for aurora. There was none, but the stars in the wind & spindrift were changing colors and the Guyot ridge was silhouetted in the darkening sky.
We each needed an extra layer to make up for our two-day-old down bags, but made the morning in warm fashion and humped our not-as-heavy packs down to the cars for the ride to Woodstock Station and some chili.
I stopped in at The Mountain Wanderer on my way out to say hi to Steve Smith and pick up a couple copies of the new Four-Thousand Footers book to tempt friends with. "There'll be an open-book test in four weeks. See you then!" We chatted about the Owls Head bushwhack, the cliffs behind Willey and the snow conditions up on the plateau there. I encouraged him to lobby for another reprint of C. Francis Belcher's "Logging Railroads of the White Mountains," just as I beg the Limmer guys to start making three-pin boots again. He laughed and made no promises, but maybe we can get some "Stimulus" money to fund it. Would it be ironic for JE Henry to benefit from Barak Obama? I also saw a NELSAP book there that went on my wish list for next time.
It was another HUGE high-point weekend, and my Pemi jones was satisfied for another season. Next February, it's either Bonds or ski, but one way or another, we'll be back out there.
Next up will be Tuckerman's for another try in late April or early May. Can anyone say if there is a definitive Spring Party Weekend already scheduled? We love Tuck's, but preferably without the stadium seating for thousands. Maybe see you out there!
--Mike
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