Saturday 8 a.m....
Last we left off, our young heroine was battling her way across the Garfield Ridge Trail from Guyot Campsite with a full pack and your typical "I'm a backpacker" attire (long underwear pants under shorts with big wool socks)...
Meanwhile.. back in my car..
Looking up at Lafayette that morning, it looked nasty. Big ole grey windswept clouds covering the summit. My original plan was to park at Old Bridle, haul up Lafayette and meet Gillian somewhere along the ridge and hike back with her down Old Bridle. But I thought I'd give her a bail-out option if conditions up there were indeed terrible, so I texted (since I don't make phone calls) my mighty steed, Nif, and told her to meet me at Garfield Trailhead. We'd park there, get up Garfield and hope to intercept Gillian at the intersection.
Back on the ridge..
What was that? A cry coming from the woods around the trail? Our young heroine throws off her heavy backpack like it was a bucket of feathers and runs off towards the noise. A small child was being stalked by the rare Boreal Chickadee. Time was precious.. she needed to reach the child before the bird did. Suddenly the bird chirps it's famous "chick-a-dee-dee-dee-dee". A warning call. The bird sees Gillian. They lock eyes for an intense few seconds. The bird flies toward the helpless child, ready to peck! But our heroine is faster and rescues the child and brings her back into the safety of the Galehead Hut where her worried parents are. Eating $1 brownies and drinking $1 coffees. Good thing they carried cash with them when they were hiking, so they could afford such trail luxuries. They are grateful, but didn't buy Gillian a brownie.
Meanwhile on the Garfield Trail..
Things were not looking good, Nif was hacking up a few lungs on the way up Mt. Garfield. I wondered if she would be able to continue. And she began to show signs of slowing down. "I might be a little slow today." She confirmed what I already knew.. Yes, <gasp> she would indeed hike at Mach 10 instead of Mach 9. I grew worried that we wouldn't reach Gillian in time. The leaves were beginning to change colors and Fall was approaching. What if winter came and Gillian was still trying to get to Mt. Lafayette? I'd never forgive myself. But Nif pressed on despite her illness, and I jogged to keep pace.
Our two stories meet!
In some form of really weird luck and timing, Gillian arrived at the intersection just below the Mt. Garfield summit literally one minute after Nif (my mighty steed) and I sat down for our first break of the day. I hadn't even opened my bag of chips, and Gillian opens a can of whoop-a$$ by arriving an hour earlier than I expected! She regales us with the tale of the epic encounter with the evil Boreal Chickadee. I shiver everytime I hear that malice "chick-a-dee-dee-dee-dee"..
Once on the Garfield summit, it was apparant the weather had changed for the better and any thoughts of bailing out via Garfield Trail is considered totally lame and I'm chasitised for being a complete wuss and we continue to Mt. Lafayette. By now Gillian has clocked some serious mileage with the backpack that is now heavier with the addition of a few stones we put in there but she takes off the Garfield summit like it's going out of style.
Along the small Garfield nuggets, A, B and FU, we see a Boreal Chickadee and take a few photos.
We climbed above treeline and are greeted by some friendly winds, brought to you by the weather. At this point, I'm still trying to catch up to the sluggish Nif ahead of me while trying to lose Gillian, because honestly I got sick of her whining and complaining. But Gillian is right behind me around every corner. I stop to take some pictures of the grass and mountains, making sure I move before Gillian reaches me to ask me annoying questions like, "Can I borrow your sunscreen." At this point, we fleeced up and I put on my winter hat for the first time since spring.
I asked Nif what the Old Bridle Path was like, because for reasons unknown to me, I had never hiked it before. She told me "It's a little rocky, with a small chance of Canadians." Wait no, that was the weather forecast..
La, la, la.. We made it up to Mt. Lafayette which was beautiful and headed down towards Greenleaf Hut, which was named after me. I had never visited the Hut since I never hiked Old Bridle Path so that was cool. They had a big ceremony for me, since the Hut was named after me. Noone had any money, so we couldn't indulge on such luxuries as brownies and coffee, which we all really wanted. I considered stealing them, but then the AMC would probably ban me from hiking if I got caught, since they own the mountains.
I liked Old Bridle Path because there were awesome view morsels. Especially of Lincoln's Throat Slide which I made sure my hiking companions knew I climbed in winter, several times. In fact they got sick of me telling them "Look! I did that in winter!" that they threw me off a view morsel but luckily I recovered.
Back down to Old Bridle trailhead, Gillian refused to drive us back our cars at Garfield because she was deeply offended that I offered her a bail-out. She threw her pack in the trunk like it was a bucket of feathers and left us there.
The End
No Boreal Chickadees, mighty steeds or Canadians were harmed in the making of this TR.
Last we left off, our young heroine was battling her way across the Garfield Ridge Trail from Guyot Campsite with a full pack and your typical "I'm a backpacker" attire (long underwear pants under shorts with big wool socks)...
Meanwhile.. back in my car..
Looking up at Lafayette that morning, it looked nasty. Big ole grey windswept clouds covering the summit. My original plan was to park at Old Bridle, haul up Lafayette and meet Gillian somewhere along the ridge and hike back with her down Old Bridle. But I thought I'd give her a bail-out option if conditions up there were indeed terrible, so I texted (since I don't make phone calls) my mighty steed, Nif, and told her to meet me at Garfield Trailhead. We'd park there, get up Garfield and hope to intercept Gillian at the intersection.
Back on the ridge..
What was that? A cry coming from the woods around the trail? Our young heroine throws off her heavy backpack like it was a bucket of feathers and runs off towards the noise. A small child was being stalked by the rare Boreal Chickadee. Time was precious.. she needed to reach the child before the bird did. Suddenly the bird chirps it's famous "chick-a-dee-dee-dee-dee". A warning call. The bird sees Gillian. They lock eyes for an intense few seconds. The bird flies toward the helpless child, ready to peck! But our heroine is faster and rescues the child and brings her back into the safety of the Galehead Hut where her worried parents are. Eating $1 brownies and drinking $1 coffees. Good thing they carried cash with them when they were hiking, so they could afford such trail luxuries. They are grateful, but didn't buy Gillian a brownie.
Meanwhile on the Garfield Trail..
Things were not looking good, Nif was hacking up a few lungs on the way up Mt. Garfield. I wondered if she would be able to continue. And she began to show signs of slowing down. "I might be a little slow today." She confirmed what I already knew.. Yes, <gasp> she would indeed hike at Mach 10 instead of Mach 9. I grew worried that we wouldn't reach Gillian in time. The leaves were beginning to change colors and Fall was approaching. What if winter came and Gillian was still trying to get to Mt. Lafayette? I'd never forgive myself. But Nif pressed on despite her illness, and I jogged to keep pace.
Our two stories meet!
In some form of really weird luck and timing, Gillian arrived at the intersection just below the Mt. Garfield summit literally one minute after Nif (my mighty steed) and I sat down for our first break of the day. I hadn't even opened my bag of chips, and Gillian opens a can of whoop-a$$ by arriving an hour earlier than I expected! She regales us with the tale of the epic encounter with the evil Boreal Chickadee. I shiver everytime I hear that malice "chick-a-dee-dee-dee-dee"..
Once on the Garfield summit, it was apparant the weather had changed for the better and any thoughts of bailing out via Garfield Trail is considered totally lame and I'm chasitised for being a complete wuss and we continue to Mt. Lafayette. By now Gillian has clocked some serious mileage with the backpack that is now heavier with the addition of a few stones we put in there but she takes off the Garfield summit like it's going out of style.
Along the small Garfield nuggets, A, B and FU, we see a Boreal Chickadee and take a few photos.
We climbed above treeline and are greeted by some friendly winds, brought to you by the weather. At this point, I'm still trying to catch up to the sluggish Nif ahead of me while trying to lose Gillian, because honestly I got sick of her whining and complaining. But Gillian is right behind me around every corner. I stop to take some pictures of the grass and mountains, making sure I move before Gillian reaches me to ask me annoying questions like, "Can I borrow your sunscreen." At this point, we fleeced up and I put on my winter hat for the first time since spring.
I asked Nif what the Old Bridle Path was like, because for reasons unknown to me, I had never hiked it before. She told me "It's a little rocky, with a small chance of Canadians." Wait no, that was the weather forecast..
La, la, la.. We made it up to Mt. Lafayette which was beautiful and headed down towards Greenleaf Hut, which was named after me. I had never visited the Hut since I never hiked Old Bridle Path so that was cool. They had a big ceremony for me, since the Hut was named after me. Noone had any money, so we couldn't indulge on such luxuries as brownies and coffee, which we all really wanted. I considered stealing them, but then the AMC would probably ban me from hiking if I got caught, since they own the mountains.
I liked Old Bridle Path because there were awesome view morsels. Especially of Lincoln's Throat Slide which I made sure my hiking companions knew I climbed in winter, several times. In fact they got sick of me telling them "Look! I did that in winter!" that they threw me off a view morsel but luckily I recovered.
Back down to Old Bridle trailhead, Gillian refused to drive us back our cars at Garfield because she was deeply offended that I offered her a bail-out. She threw her pack in the trunk like it was a bucket of feathers and left us there.
The End
No Boreal Chickadees, mighty steeds or Canadians were harmed in the making of this TR.
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