Ridgewalker
Active member
Over this past weekend there was a rise of ambition and ounce of desire to solo the Wildcats. For some, I may have committed hiking sacrilige by not doing the whole ridge, but instead sought my two peaks from the ski slope.
There is one thing I learned about soloing, can be dangerous, but also fun and contemplative. My late friend Ray Loring soloed some of his 4k's while he was with us and I did not understand why he liked it so much, but now I really get the picture.
I reside in heaven this summer at Pinkham Notch. Thus I did not have to drive anywhere but my two limbs to the gravel parking lot. The Crew Cut trail, which is a nice path for safe movement, was not on the list, too many blow downs and a call for getting lost.
The weather hung beautifully on Saturday as I tromped through under the pleasure gondola path to the top. It took an hour's movement through the climb of the rocks and dealing with low plants and prickly plants. But the whole experience of being alone also tested my sanity and will to make it to the top, perhaps singing and talking to one's self is a good balm to making the climb easier.
I stood on top of Wildcat and pushed for the ridge. The pack of snow and constant postholes and spruce traps made the passing annoying at times. I was miffed that one of my poles bent, but not enough to break, when I fell into a spruce trap.
The ups and downs allowed for photography. I believe that I could see Maine. A Presidential landscape and its vestiges of winter in Tuck's and Huntington hearkened back to a dying winter.
My patience was tested. Finally tagged Wildcat when realising that the scenic overlook to the Ramparts was there. After finding a pillar, or maybe on top of one due to the snow, deemed it official.
The return back called for more patience. Needless to say the descent from the ski slope was marked with an attack of black flies, whose bites still dominate my legs, and a twisted ankle. But such is life.
The end of this climb brought me success and a further pleasure of forging character in isolation. I think that if one was to lead others, they must lead themselves first. Confidence and being taught the ways of the woods also ushers the next stage, being able to apply it. Now with the last five peaks to go this summer for the 48s, this story continues and grows within me a better man in the making.
There is one thing I learned about soloing, can be dangerous, but also fun and contemplative. My late friend Ray Loring soloed some of his 4k's while he was with us and I did not understand why he liked it so much, but now I really get the picture.
I reside in heaven this summer at Pinkham Notch. Thus I did not have to drive anywhere but my two limbs to the gravel parking lot. The Crew Cut trail, which is a nice path for safe movement, was not on the list, too many blow downs and a call for getting lost.
The weather hung beautifully on Saturday as I tromped through under the pleasure gondola path to the top. It took an hour's movement through the climb of the rocks and dealing with low plants and prickly plants. But the whole experience of being alone also tested my sanity and will to make it to the top, perhaps singing and talking to one's self is a good balm to making the climb easier.
I stood on top of Wildcat and pushed for the ridge. The pack of snow and constant postholes and spruce traps made the passing annoying at times. I was miffed that one of my poles bent, but not enough to break, when I fell into a spruce trap.
The ups and downs allowed for photography. I believe that I could see Maine. A Presidential landscape and its vestiges of winter in Tuck's and Huntington hearkened back to a dying winter.
My patience was tested. Finally tagged Wildcat when realising that the scenic overlook to the Ramparts was there. After finding a pillar, or maybe on top of one due to the snow, deemed it official.
The return back called for more patience. Needless to say the descent from the ski slope was marked with an attack of black flies, whose bites still dominate my legs, and a twisted ankle. But such is life.
The end of this climb brought me success and a further pleasure of forging character in isolation. I think that if one was to lead others, they must lead themselves first. Confidence and being taught the ways of the woods also ushers the next stage, being able to apply it. Now with the last five peaks to go this summer for the 48s, this story continues and grows within me a better man in the making.
