A low pressure system in the Atlantic off Cape Cod had been stalled for several days, rotating counterclockwise and picking up moisture, keeping the upper elevations of the Whites in thick clouds. The forecast for days was “chance of showers”. Doesn’t exactly sound like a great time for hiking the Presidential Range, does it? Due to personal scheduling and need to climb a few other smaller peaks, I thought I would give it a shot. Even with the best weather computers and models, the patterns can change and fronts can move out, I thought. This time they didn’t.
I got a 6 a.m. start from Appalachia and made good time to Madison Spring Hut at 4800 feet. The clouds were thickening with elevation and the wind was increasing, but not too bad. I was able to see the hut from about 50 feet away, so I thought an ascent of Mt Madison was a “go”. Scaling the rocky slope, my biggest annoyance was water sheeting over my glasses, making it difficult to see the rocks under my feet as well as the cairns guiding the way. I was frequently rubbing my fingers on the lenses, trying to keep them semi-clear. The wind was strong (impossible to say how fast) at the summit and of course I didn’t stay any longer than it took to turn around. And of course, the visibility at the summit was much less, but just enough to see from cairn to cairn. I was surprised to see a group of four ascending just above the hut. Hmmm . . . someone else as crazy as I am . . .
Conditions on the way to Adams seemed to worsen a bit as I got more exposed to the northeast/east wind on the summit ridge. Still, I could follow the cairns reasonably well. I realized that my clothing was saturated with the blowing moisture in the clouds. Keeping my glasses clear was a constant hassle, making low visibility even lower.
It was a relief as the Gulfside trail dipped out of the main force of the wind for a while on the way to Jefferson, but the worst of the conditions was yet to come as I got up on the side of Jefferson. Somehow I walked by the sign for the summit loop trail and stayed on Gulfside on the east of the ridge. Visibility at this point was about 20-30 feet and the wind was fierce. I looked uphill (where I wanted to go) but could see no cairns. Backtracking, I found the junction and made my way to the summit. The huge cairn between the peaks was the only semi-refuge, and the whistling of the wind blowing through the rocks was interesting.
Believe it or not, I did have a previously established “Plan B” for this trip, and I knew it was time to exercise it. I did not even consider going ahead about 3 miles toward Mt Washington with the likelihood that conditions would become even worse and with no good options for return or refuge. So it was time to head back to Appalachia. Looking at the map, which instantly became soaking wet and started to disintegrate, I thought I would take the closest trail down the ridge to the west to avoid the wind. I considered backtracking toward Adams but didn’t want to face the wind (literally) again.
A sign for the Castle trail going northwest was within sight, and not knowing anything about this trail, I thought “I’ll take it”, connecting with a trail called The Link back to the trailhead. What an experience and what a trail! Steep, rocky, chutes, and on the spine of a ridge with deep plunges on both sides (although I couldn’t see how deep)—but it was going my direction. Under nicer conditions I bet it would be a great ascent route. It and the Link seemed to go on forever, actually only about 7.5 miles from the summit to Appalachia.
Back at the car, I was disappointed the weather had stopped me from my goal, but confident that Plan B was the right decision. And what an experience . . .
I got a 6 a.m. start from Appalachia and made good time to Madison Spring Hut at 4800 feet. The clouds were thickening with elevation and the wind was increasing, but not too bad. I was able to see the hut from about 50 feet away, so I thought an ascent of Mt Madison was a “go”. Scaling the rocky slope, my biggest annoyance was water sheeting over my glasses, making it difficult to see the rocks under my feet as well as the cairns guiding the way. I was frequently rubbing my fingers on the lenses, trying to keep them semi-clear. The wind was strong (impossible to say how fast) at the summit and of course I didn’t stay any longer than it took to turn around. And of course, the visibility at the summit was much less, but just enough to see from cairn to cairn. I was surprised to see a group of four ascending just above the hut. Hmmm . . . someone else as crazy as I am . . .
Conditions on the way to Adams seemed to worsen a bit as I got more exposed to the northeast/east wind on the summit ridge. Still, I could follow the cairns reasonably well. I realized that my clothing was saturated with the blowing moisture in the clouds. Keeping my glasses clear was a constant hassle, making low visibility even lower.
It was a relief as the Gulfside trail dipped out of the main force of the wind for a while on the way to Jefferson, but the worst of the conditions was yet to come as I got up on the side of Jefferson. Somehow I walked by the sign for the summit loop trail and stayed on Gulfside on the east of the ridge. Visibility at this point was about 20-30 feet and the wind was fierce. I looked uphill (where I wanted to go) but could see no cairns. Backtracking, I found the junction and made my way to the summit. The huge cairn between the peaks was the only semi-refuge, and the whistling of the wind blowing through the rocks was interesting.
Believe it or not, I did have a previously established “Plan B” for this trip, and I knew it was time to exercise it. I did not even consider going ahead about 3 miles toward Mt Washington with the likelihood that conditions would become even worse and with no good options for return or refuge. So it was time to head back to Appalachia. Looking at the map, which instantly became soaking wet and started to disintegrate, I thought I would take the closest trail down the ridge to the west to avoid the wind. I considered backtracking toward Adams but didn’t want to face the wind (literally) again.
A sign for the Castle trail going northwest was within sight, and not knowing anything about this trail, I thought “I’ll take it”, connecting with a trail called The Link back to the trailhead. What an experience and what a trail! Steep, rocky, chutes, and on the spine of a ridge with deep plunges on both sides (although I couldn’t see how deep)—but it was going my direction. Under nicer conditions I bet it would be a great ascent route. It and the Link seemed to go on forever, actually only about 7.5 miles from the summit to Appalachia.
Back at the car, I was disappointed the weather had stopped me from my goal, but confident that Plan B was the right decision. And what an experience . . .
