Periwinkle
Active member
Earlier this week Darren had suggested taking a hike. So I did. Excellent advice!
I had managed to get a whole day off on Wednesday, so I asked a friend, Mike, if he wanted to do a daytrip. I was thinking maybe Moriah or Garfield. We ended up deciding on Zealand and the Bonds as an overnight. Okay, then….
Because Mike’s St. Bernard, Goliath, would be making the trip, we decided to go in and out from the north. Mike figured that Goliath could probably do the ladder on the Twinway or get up the slab. The steps on Bondcliff seemed more of a challenge, and if Goliath couldn’t make it, he would NOT like being hauled up. So, from the north it would be.
We started up the Zealand Trail to the hut Wednesday morning under blue skies with high, puffy clouds, warm temps, and a light breeze. The trail was almost completely dry the entire way. Perfect! At the hut, we met a group of young men from Maine who told us that there was still some messy snow and ice ahead, particularly on Zealand & Guyot, but that the trail was clear between Bond and Bondcliff. That was at least some good news.
After leaving the hut, we started up through bare birch. It wasn’t long before I felt like a roast in the oven. Far too used to hiking in cold conditions, I guess! I pulled out my baseball cap, slapped it on my baking head, and marched along up to Zeacliff. We cooled off during a nice break at the cliff and started up again.
Just past the Zeacliff Pond Spur, we encountered the first real stretch of snow in the trail. Two steps from the end, just as I was thinking “Well, that wasn’t so bad”, I postholed. My foot slid back and the weight of my pack sent me hurling forward. I managed to catch myself before a full-out face plant. I had saved my face, but my knees looked like I had taken a Brillo pad to them. No major damage done, I brushed myself off and kept going, a little more carefully. Moments later, my spirits lifted immensely watching Goliath bound up the wooden ladder without hesitation. No worries for him from there on in until we returned.
The approach to Zealand did take some careful footing. The trail conditions alternated between dry, mud, soft snow, and little patches of ice. The mud wasn’t too deep. The ice wasn’t either – there were rocks or roots poking up in most cases. The few deep sections of snow were still firm. What a relief! Most of the knee deep snow held most of the time. Our feet sank a bit, but it wasn’t a continuous postholing slog. We made decent progress to Zealand. It was an unimpressive summit, but I was happy to be there.
The trail towards Guyot was more of the same. Finding the best footing was a little tedious, but very doable. It didn’t seem long before I felt I could smell treeline. My favorite place. I had been away far too long…. Bit-by-bit, like opening a present, the trees became shorter, the view of the vivid blue sky grew. Ahead of us was an alpine trail and the awesome emptiness of the Pemi Wilderness. Ahhhhh…. What a glorious walk….
Still trying to keep on schedule, we headed back down into the woods and a little more snow. The trail down to the shelter was a bit of a bummer: more of the same soft snow and ice in places with a 250’ descent just to drop overnight gear. The trip was worth it for me. Mike, living up to his Sherpa nickname, offered to carry my pack with our essentials so that I could have an easier trip out to Bondcliff. Did I say no? Not. I said “Thank you very much”.
Relieved of my 30+ pound burden, the bits of snow and ice out to Mt. Bond were nothing. And the 360 degree view from Bond was enough to inspire me forward to Bondcliff. I was grateful to be carrying nothing but a water bottle and glad to see the last remnant of winter. The descent from Bond all the way to Bondcliff was clear. As we reached the summit, a cool breeze blew in from the west, making for a gloriously refreshing break to admire the southern view of the Wilderness from Bondcliff. Of course, we had to do the obligatory “cover shot” for “the best photo opportunity in the Whites”. We were both a bit hesitant about stepping out on that cliff. No one ever told me that you had to really put yourself out there! Yikes! Did it though. HAD to do it! And smiled while I was doing it! What a moment.
We didn’t want to leave, but the sun was so obviously setting over the Franconias to the west. Time to go. I had been dreading going back up Bond, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as I had envisioned. We stopped for a moment again on Bond to admire the setting sun, then headed back to the shelter. The descent back down the spur trail to the shelter was truly a bummer this time – I mistook a grey patch for rock. It wasn’t. It was dirty ice. Slap, bang, down went the purple trail snail again! Grrrrr. No damage done, other than to my pride, we continue down to dinner.
We had the shelter to ourselves, with a silent tent at one platform. After a dinner, it was time for a peaceful sleep. We hadn’t seen another human since meeting up with Andy, the caretaker from Zealand Hut on the trail to Zealand. The only sound was the spring gurgling down the mountain side. Not a single bug buzzed. Peace….
The following day had a tight schedule. We blew that right off lingering over breakfast and coffee. We were encouraged to find that Goliath had handled the stairs down from the shelter with no problem. Very promising…To make a little time, we dumped our packs at the trail junction above the shelter, and boogied on out to West Bond for one last moment of enjoying solitude. As we stood on the summit, we were buzzed by an A-10 fighter jet. Okay then, there’s a big ol’ reality check. Back to civilization for us….
The route back out was softer than the day before, but still manageable. Footing was still interesting – when I’m choosing to step on wet roots and balancing on the tips of rocks on my toes, I’m questioning my choices. And approaching mud puddles thinking, “Psyched! Excellent footing!” well….
After crossing Guyot and Zealand, we were still behind schedule and hoping to make up time from Zeacliff. Wrong. There were three separate youth groups around the hut. Every single kid had to pat Goliath. While we were thrilled that he had marched right down the ladder, I now felt like we were hiking with a rock star. It was all about the dog! It made me realize that adults see a St. Bernard on the trail and think “Cujo”. Kids see the same kind of dog and think “Beethoven!” Schedule aside, it was a great reward for him to be petted and admired so much. And it was a good experience to talk to some of the kids about the dog’s pack and how he contributes to keeping the trails clean by carrying out trail trash that is carelessly left behind.
Having pasted the hut, we flew down the flat section towards the trailhead. I hate blowing out of the woods. I feel as if I’m being disrespectful. But, reality does encroach in the woods, whether I like it or not. I had to get back to work that night. Heavy sigh….
I arrived home to find my entire crew waiting on the porch, letting out a big “WAAAAHOOOO” as I drove in. Okay, so reality isn’t that bad….Two days out, 21 miles, 5500’ of elevation, four 4’s…life is good….
I had managed to get a whole day off on Wednesday, so I asked a friend, Mike, if he wanted to do a daytrip. I was thinking maybe Moriah or Garfield. We ended up deciding on Zealand and the Bonds as an overnight. Okay, then….
Because Mike’s St. Bernard, Goliath, would be making the trip, we decided to go in and out from the north. Mike figured that Goliath could probably do the ladder on the Twinway or get up the slab. The steps on Bondcliff seemed more of a challenge, and if Goliath couldn’t make it, he would NOT like being hauled up. So, from the north it would be.
We started up the Zealand Trail to the hut Wednesday morning under blue skies with high, puffy clouds, warm temps, and a light breeze. The trail was almost completely dry the entire way. Perfect! At the hut, we met a group of young men from Maine who told us that there was still some messy snow and ice ahead, particularly on Zealand & Guyot, but that the trail was clear between Bond and Bondcliff. That was at least some good news.
After leaving the hut, we started up through bare birch. It wasn’t long before I felt like a roast in the oven. Far too used to hiking in cold conditions, I guess! I pulled out my baseball cap, slapped it on my baking head, and marched along up to Zeacliff. We cooled off during a nice break at the cliff and started up again.
Just past the Zeacliff Pond Spur, we encountered the first real stretch of snow in the trail. Two steps from the end, just as I was thinking “Well, that wasn’t so bad”, I postholed. My foot slid back and the weight of my pack sent me hurling forward. I managed to catch myself before a full-out face plant. I had saved my face, but my knees looked like I had taken a Brillo pad to them. No major damage done, I brushed myself off and kept going, a little more carefully. Moments later, my spirits lifted immensely watching Goliath bound up the wooden ladder without hesitation. No worries for him from there on in until we returned.
The approach to Zealand did take some careful footing. The trail conditions alternated between dry, mud, soft snow, and little patches of ice. The mud wasn’t too deep. The ice wasn’t either – there were rocks or roots poking up in most cases. The few deep sections of snow were still firm. What a relief! Most of the knee deep snow held most of the time. Our feet sank a bit, but it wasn’t a continuous postholing slog. We made decent progress to Zealand. It was an unimpressive summit, but I was happy to be there.
The trail towards Guyot was more of the same. Finding the best footing was a little tedious, but very doable. It didn’t seem long before I felt I could smell treeline. My favorite place. I had been away far too long…. Bit-by-bit, like opening a present, the trees became shorter, the view of the vivid blue sky grew. Ahead of us was an alpine trail and the awesome emptiness of the Pemi Wilderness. Ahhhhh…. What a glorious walk….
Still trying to keep on schedule, we headed back down into the woods and a little more snow. The trail down to the shelter was a bit of a bummer: more of the same soft snow and ice in places with a 250’ descent just to drop overnight gear. The trip was worth it for me. Mike, living up to his Sherpa nickname, offered to carry my pack with our essentials so that I could have an easier trip out to Bondcliff. Did I say no? Not. I said “Thank you very much”.
Relieved of my 30+ pound burden, the bits of snow and ice out to Mt. Bond were nothing. And the 360 degree view from Bond was enough to inspire me forward to Bondcliff. I was grateful to be carrying nothing but a water bottle and glad to see the last remnant of winter. The descent from Bond all the way to Bondcliff was clear. As we reached the summit, a cool breeze blew in from the west, making for a gloriously refreshing break to admire the southern view of the Wilderness from Bondcliff. Of course, we had to do the obligatory “cover shot” for “the best photo opportunity in the Whites”. We were both a bit hesitant about stepping out on that cliff. No one ever told me that you had to really put yourself out there! Yikes! Did it though. HAD to do it! And smiled while I was doing it! What a moment.
We didn’t want to leave, but the sun was so obviously setting over the Franconias to the west. Time to go. I had been dreading going back up Bond, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as I had envisioned. We stopped for a moment again on Bond to admire the setting sun, then headed back to the shelter. The descent back down the spur trail to the shelter was truly a bummer this time – I mistook a grey patch for rock. It wasn’t. It was dirty ice. Slap, bang, down went the purple trail snail again! Grrrrr. No damage done, other than to my pride, we continue down to dinner.
We had the shelter to ourselves, with a silent tent at one platform. After a dinner, it was time for a peaceful sleep. We hadn’t seen another human since meeting up with Andy, the caretaker from Zealand Hut on the trail to Zealand. The only sound was the spring gurgling down the mountain side. Not a single bug buzzed. Peace….
The following day had a tight schedule. We blew that right off lingering over breakfast and coffee. We were encouraged to find that Goliath had handled the stairs down from the shelter with no problem. Very promising…To make a little time, we dumped our packs at the trail junction above the shelter, and boogied on out to West Bond for one last moment of enjoying solitude. As we stood on the summit, we were buzzed by an A-10 fighter jet. Okay then, there’s a big ol’ reality check. Back to civilization for us….
The route back out was softer than the day before, but still manageable. Footing was still interesting – when I’m choosing to step on wet roots and balancing on the tips of rocks on my toes, I’m questioning my choices. And approaching mud puddles thinking, “Psyched! Excellent footing!” well….
After crossing Guyot and Zealand, we were still behind schedule and hoping to make up time from Zeacliff. Wrong. There were three separate youth groups around the hut. Every single kid had to pat Goliath. While we were thrilled that he had marched right down the ladder, I now felt like we were hiking with a rock star. It was all about the dog! It made me realize that adults see a St. Bernard on the trail and think “Cujo”. Kids see the same kind of dog and think “Beethoven!” Schedule aside, it was a great reward for him to be petted and admired so much. And it was a good experience to talk to some of the kids about the dog’s pack and how he contributes to keeping the trails clean by carrying out trail trash that is carelessly left behind.
Having pasted the hut, we flew down the flat section towards the trailhead. I hate blowing out of the woods. I feel as if I’m being disrespectful. But, reality does encroach in the woods, whether I like it or not. I had to get back to work that night. Heavy sigh….
I arrived home to find my entire crew waiting on the porch, letting out a big “WAAAAHOOOO” as I drove in. Okay, so reality isn’t that bad….Two days out, 21 miles, 5500’ of elevation, four 4’s…life is good….