McRat
New member
Met up with Steve, NewHampshire and the Jeneral, and we carpooled to Sawyer River Rd. The weather was cool but clear, the road conditions were fine, and the conversation enjoyable.
We started up the Signal Ridge Trail which looked a lot different from last Monday's Carrigain trip. Even at low elevation, there was a light coating of snow, just enough to obscure all those delightful ankle twisting rocks. With only slightly more attention and a little less speed, we traveled the easy grades enjoying the scenery and company.
November river crossings are seldom easy, and the extra flow had submerged a great deal of stepping stones used earlier that week. The higher rocks were dusted in snow, the lower ones submerged,and those often critical steps encased in ice. We tried a few options and dead-ends before deciding to scoot across a large blowdown, including that great delay where everyone waits to see who goes first. Being really brave people, Steve, NH and I looked for a better route while the Jeneral gave it a go. In the end, we wound up following the Jeneral's bold leadership - we straddled the log and scooted along across the river.
Brrrrrr. Pretty icy, but within 10 minutes I had thawed out and could feel my inner thighs again.
We walked along in an odd pattern of rock, snow, ice and mud until we reached the boulder marking the start of our bushwhack. The other river crossings were somewhat tricky, but manageable overall. There was a bit of question whether the herd path was just in behind the boulder, or in just shortly after it. We picked the latter, and it did not matter, as both paths quickly dissapeared into the scrub.
The strategy was - up, towards the ridgeline, path of least resistance. We made it to about 2600' when the scrub began to retaliate. Between surfing snow covered blowdowns, crawling under branches, and negotiating three-foot visibility spruce we reached a speed that Amicus described to me as 'Tenth of a mile (per hour) spruce'. Our turnback time was questioned but we decided to press on towards the ridgeline in hopes of finding a herdpath to the talus.
We had ascended another 300 feet of interesting whack, hoping to find an opening lasting for than a few feet, but as we pressed through evergreens to that hoped-for open patch, it would turn out to be open because of blowdowns as often as we found small clearings. The way was fairly steep, and the snow was enough to be slippery; yet too little to be of any help softening your landing.
Another hour had passed, and we considered the prospect of making the river crossings after dark. We decided to take a poll - "Who really wants to keep going and head back after dark?" Though we all had the gear, no one voted for this option and turned back around 800 vertical feet of our planned destination.
While reluctant to make the decision to turn back, once made we don't second guess it. We made the most out of the hike back to the Carrigain Notch trail, enjoying occasional views of Mt. Lowell, and the walk out was as cheerful as could be under the circumstances.
I hope that when we return to Vose Spur, the summit will be that much sweeter. After all - If no one ever got turned back, what challenge would there be? Just the same - my bushwhacking season is over until there is a lot more snow... or none.
We started up the Signal Ridge Trail which looked a lot different from last Monday's Carrigain trip. Even at low elevation, there was a light coating of snow, just enough to obscure all those delightful ankle twisting rocks. With only slightly more attention and a little less speed, we traveled the easy grades enjoying the scenery and company.
November river crossings are seldom easy, and the extra flow had submerged a great deal of stepping stones used earlier that week. The higher rocks were dusted in snow, the lower ones submerged,and those often critical steps encased in ice. We tried a few options and dead-ends before deciding to scoot across a large blowdown, including that great delay where everyone waits to see who goes first. Being really brave people, Steve, NH and I looked for a better route while the Jeneral gave it a go. In the end, we wound up following the Jeneral's bold leadership - we straddled the log and scooted along across the river.
Brrrrrr. Pretty icy, but within 10 minutes I had thawed out and could feel my inner thighs again. We walked along in an odd pattern of rock, snow, ice and mud until we reached the boulder marking the start of our bushwhack. The other river crossings were somewhat tricky, but manageable overall. There was a bit of question whether the herd path was just in behind the boulder, or in just shortly after it. We picked the latter, and it did not matter, as both paths quickly dissapeared into the scrub.
The strategy was - up, towards the ridgeline, path of least resistance. We made it to about 2600' when the scrub began to retaliate. Between surfing snow covered blowdowns, crawling under branches, and negotiating three-foot visibility spruce we reached a speed that Amicus described to me as 'Tenth of a mile (per hour) spruce'. Our turnback time was questioned but we decided to press on towards the ridgeline in hopes of finding a herdpath to the talus.
We had ascended another 300 feet of interesting whack, hoping to find an opening lasting for than a few feet, but as we pressed through evergreens to that hoped-for open patch, it would turn out to be open because of blowdowns as often as we found small clearings. The way was fairly steep, and the snow was enough to be slippery; yet too little to be of any help softening your landing.
Another hour had passed, and we considered the prospect of making the river crossings after dark. We decided to take a poll - "Who really wants to keep going and head back after dark?" Though we all had the gear, no one voted for this option and turned back around 800 vertical feet of our planned destination.
While reluctant to make the decision to turn back, once made we don't second guess it. We made the most out of the hike back to the Carrigain Notch trail, enjoying occasional views of Mt. Lowell, and the walk out was as cheerful as could be under the circumstances.
I hope that when we return to Vose Spur, the summit will be that much sweeter. After all - If no one ever got turned back, what challenge would there be? Just the same - my bushwhacking season is over until there is a lot more snow... or none.
