Dave Bear
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- Dec 13, 2007
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Sunday had been forecast as the wetter of the two days and didn’t let us down when I met Bob Kittredge at Ridge of the Caps trailhead. It was raining fairly heavy and we cancelled that hike and each went on our way. I headed into Conway to hit some shops and drool over hiking gear. On the way the rain got very strong and there was quite a bit of thunder and lightning. I started thinking it may clear off some now and allow for a few waterfall hikes in Crawford Notch. LL Bean was still closed along with others but Ragged Mountain teased me so bad I almost drew my wallet. 
Not today though as I looked outside and saw the rain had stopped.
I started up in the middle of the notch at the Crawford Depot intending to hike Willard and investigate the old Hitchcock Flume. Last time I had climbed Willard was at nineteen with my then fiancé Bev her sister Chris a.k.a. Sunshine Chris and her then fiancé Bill. That April day had started with bravado and dares beginning with a swim by Fabyan’s at the trestle and ending with a freehand climb up Willard’s headwall. It had taken us almost four hours to climb and Bev and I literally saved each other’s lives on that rock face on separate slips that would have been a certain death. Today would be a nice peaceful climb through large wet leaves with birds welcoming the sunshine. I reached the top of the cliff in a fraction of an hour and stepped very gingerly near the dry rock edge. Peering down, I thought how stupid we had been and how today’s rain on that day would have been our end. How close and trusting it had brought my wife and I.
The sky was clearing and gazing at higher altitudes through the puffy and interestingly shaped clouds I felt higher summits beckoning me. I did take a herd path on the right as I descended in a half-hearted attempt to locate the flume but it dwindled into a trap of blowdowns. One for another time.
Once down I headed to the Marshfield Station and switched to the pack I had set up for Jefferson. A few quick additions including some God awful heavy Steiner binoculars and I headed up Ammonoosuc Ravine Trail. I listened to NOAA on my radio and they were calling for 1.3 inches of rain, flash flood warnings and deadly lightning. Looking up at wispy, light and high clouds I felt my chances to get up on Monroe and scout for the 172 Cessena that crashed in ’69 were going to be good today.
I had never climbed “Ammo” before and found it to be a bit of a “Stair Master” but plentiful with views, waterfalls and happy hikers headed for a night at the Lake of the Clouds hut. One little blonde hiker about five or six named Hally was a cute spectacle. She was eating her “Power jelly beans” and firmly telling her parents “Come on stop resting and let’s get going!” I had passed the Gem Pool and when I went down the spur to the lower cascade known as “The Gorge” I quickly pulled out my powerbar, knowing I would need it if I were going to keep up!
The Gorge is one of the most impressive waterfalls I have ever seen. It drops hundreds of feet to a nice deep pool that invites you for a swim. It is not very wide but was strong with fresh rain and it is graced with lush vegetation on its steep banks. The perch I was viewing it from seemed close enough to dive into the pool or at least jump. Before I got too carried away in my thoughts I was greeted by the familiar voice of Emily who is a Galehead hut caretaker. She accompanied me to the next cascade where she took a picture of me, very winded. I would have all I could do to keep pace with little Hally and her short legs. After two rewarding hours on the trail I reached the hut at three o’clock.
The skies still looked great so off to Monroe to peer into Oakes Gulf for the ill-fated Cessna. They had crashed in January somewhere below Camel Trail and Davis Path. Rumor is that when the FAA didn’t come retrieve the plane the 1970 hut crew pushed it over the edge where it slid down into the trees. Today I would see nothing that resembled it but got some quality time up top taking in all of the views. My uncle flies the same model Cessena and his is a 1953. The thought of finding this one so I could show him from the air has sparked my interest. Perhaps I should try to spot it from the air then return to hike to it. Either way it will be difficult without some knowledge where to look. I dropped down off the south side of Monroe and took the Crawford Path back around on the flats. Near the end of the gulf there was a large patch of snow I wished was close enough to the trail to make a snow man for the folks looking down from Monroe’s summit.
Still early after a bite to eat from my pack at the hut I decided to head up the “Rockpile” for a good bowl of chili. When I got inside I found that the kitchen had closed forty minutes earlier at five o’clock. Apparently closing time is governed by the size of the crowd not the clock. Needless to say I could miss a meal or two so I headed down Gulfside and to the Jewell Trail. Hardly anyone at the summit and no one at all on the trails. Guess the weather media did its share of reducing the crowds.
This section of the Gulfside is pleasant and well laid stone. The top portion of the Jewell is a bit to endure with endless rock-hopping til you get down into the trees. Later, near the treeline I could look across and see clouds over Ammo and thought how nasty a fall on wet ledges would be compared to the ground I was trekking down. I light rain close to the bottom hastened my pace but nothing for concern. I finished my loop back to the station by eight o’clock sharp.
Willard pics:http://good-times.webshots.com/album/563968823yiPVxG?vhost=good-times
Presi pics:http://good-times.webshots.com/album/563968836DjVulE?vhost=good-times
Not today though as I looked outside and saw the rain had stopped.I started up in the middle of the notch at the Crawford Depot intending to hike Willard and investigate the old Hitchcock Flume. Last time I had climbed Willard was at nineteen with my then fiancé Bev her sister Chris a.k.a. Sunshine Chris and her then fiancé Bill. That April day had started with bravado and dares beginning with a swim by Fabyan’s at the trestle and ending with a freehand climb up Willard’s headwall. It had taken us almost four hours to climb and Bev and I literally saved each other’s lives on that rock face on separate slips that would have been a certain death.
Today would be a nice peaceful climb through large wet leaves with birds welcoming the sunshine. I reached the top of the cliff in a fraction of an hour and stepped very gingerly near the dry rock edge. Peering down, I thought how stupid we had been and how today’s rain on that day would have been our end. How close and trusting it had brought my wife and I.The sky was clearing and gazing at higher altitudes through the puffy and interestingly shaped clouds I felt higher summits beckoning me. I did take a herd path on the right as I descended in a half-hearted attempt to locate the flume but it dwindled into a trap of blowdowns. One for another time.
Once down I headed to the Marshfield Station and switched to the pack I had set up for Jefferson. A few quick additions including some God awful heavy Steiner binoculars and I headed up Ammonoosuc Ravine Trail. I listened to NOAA on my radio and they were calling for 1.3 inches of rain, flash flood warnings and deadly lightning. Looking up at wispy, light and high clouds I felt my chances to get up on Monroe and scout for the 172 Cessena that crashed in ’69 were going to be good today.
I had never climbed “Ammo” before and found it to be a bit of a “Stair Master” but plentiful with views, waterfalls and happy hikers headed for a night at the Lake of the Clouds hut. One little blonde hiker about five or six named Hally was a cute spectacle. She was eating her “Power jelly beans” and firmly telling her parents “Come on stop resting and let’s get going!”
I had passed the Gem Pool and when I went down the spur to the lower cascade known as “The Gorge” I quickly pulled out my powerbar, knowing I would need it if I were going to keep up!The Gorge is one of the most impressive waterfalls I have ever seen. It drops hundreds of feet to a nice deep pool that invites you for a swim. It is not very wide but was strong with fresh rain and it is graced with lush vegetation on its steep banks. The perch I was viewing it from seemed close enough to dive into the pool or at least jump. Before I got too carried away in my thoughts I was greeted by the familiar voice of Emily who is a Galehead hut caretaker. She accompanied me to the next cascade where she took a picture of me, very winded. I would have all I could do to keep pace with little Hally and her short legs. After two rewarding hours on the trail I reached the hut at three o’clock.
The skies still looked great so off to Monroe to peer into Oakes Gulf for the ill-fated Cessna. They had crashed in January somewhere below Camel Trail and Davis Path. Rumor is that when the FAA didn’t come retrieve the plane the 1970 hut crew pushed it over the edge where it slid down into the trees. Today I would see nothing that resembled it but got some quality time up top taking in all of the views. My uncle flies the same model Cessena and his is a 1953. The thought of finding this one so I could show him from the air has sparked my interest. Perhaps I should try to spot it from the air then return to hike to it. Either way it will be difficult without some knowledge where to look. I dropped down off the south side of Monroe and took the Crawford Path back around on the flats. Near the end of the gulf there was a large patch of snow I wished was close enough to the trail to make a snow man for the folks looking down from Monroe’s summit.
Still early after a bite to eat from my pack at the hut I decided to head up the “Rockpile” for a good bowl of chili. When I got inside I found that the kitchen had closed forty minutes earlier at five o’clock. Apparently closing time is governed by the size of the crowd not the clock. Needless to say I could miss a meal or two so I headed down Gulfside and to the Jewell Trail. Hardly anyone at the summit and no one at all on the trails. Guess the weather media did its share of reducing the crowds.
This section of the Gulfside is pleasant and well laid stone. The top portion of the Jewell is a bit to endure with endless rock-hopping til you get down into the trees. Later, near the treeline I could look across and see clouds over Ammo and thought how nasty a fall on wet ledges would be compared to the ground I was trekking down. I light rain close to the bottom hastened my pace but nothing for concern. I finished my loop back to the station by eight o’clock sharp.
Willard pics:http://good-times.webshots.com/album/563968823yiPVxG?vhost=good-times
Presi pics:http://good-times.webshots.com/album/563968836DjVulE?vhost=good-times
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