10-18-12 Mt. Lafayette: The Perfect Day.

This article has lots of photos that are a special gift to an extraordinary person and a mountain friend of many years, Charley Richardson, who is currently unable to hike and misses the mountains. Today the light was astonishing and the views from the summit were also astonishing. You could just see the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris. Honest! See you soon, Charley.

When they say "follow your bliss", this is as close as I can get. Thursday the morning air was cold. I'd already hiked a few miles on a wild goose chase bushwhacking on Mt. Coolidge trying to get up Mt. Flume but, in defeat, turned my thoughts to summiting Mt. Lafayette. This was how the trail looked as I set forth. It was mid morning and the sun was just up over the ridge, and having escaped from the clouds, it had caught in the trees  turning the beech leaves into gold, and flickering, picked its way across the carpet of leaves setting them on fire one by one.

The Falling Waters Trail can be taken literally. I happen to dislike it for reasons I don't even remember, but it could never replace the Old Bridle Path so I hardly give it a thought. Falling Waters is usually quite busy as it's the first leg in the well used loop that goes up Little Haystack to Franconia Ridge at treeline and surfs along the high ridge to Mt. Lafayette, descends the Greenleaf Trail to Greenleaf Hut and continues down the Old Bridle Path to the car park. Of course, you can go clockwise and descend by the Falling Waters Trail if you like going against the herd.

Clouds that formed spontaneously over the summits and ridge from the warm air rising into the cold, upper air, filtered the sunlight, softening it, and created these warm brown tones in the leaf carpet.

Throughout the day the colors were rich and vibrant.

I stopped here on my way down in mid-afternoon to admire the late afternoon light caught in these same trees. The sun was low and in the west and the light slanted in from behind those trees in the background. The light shimmered as the wind rippled the beech leaves that are still clinging to the trees.  Ryan Adams has a song with the line, "I wish I was the wind, I'd touch your face." Standing in the soft wind and warm sun felt like being kissed.

It's lovely is all I can say.

A log that long ago fell here, and I remember it from 20 years ago, is still intact but slowly being hollowed out by termite larvae (worms) and waste material from all their chewing stands in a pile at the downhill end of the log. It will mix into with the older forest soil as a rich fertilizer.

Certified organic, locally crafted soil. One of the artisans is inspecting the new soil.

I used to tell the camp groups I was guiding up Lafayette to the hut that this was a giant's grave. Then, at night at the hut, I'd tell them ghost stories featuring the giant and they'd stay away all night. Then they'd be grumpy and difficult to keep moving on the trail the next day. It really wasn't such a good idea. Anyway, there are lots of ghost stories about the White Mountains. Some are true.

We used to call this section of the trail "Subway" because it was a trench that had been eroded by foot traffic and so deep that when you were hiking in it you couldn't see over the top on either side. The trail crew rerouted the trail in a few places and in others back filled the trench, like you see here, but it continues to erode.

In the December 1929 Appalachia, pg. 359, Paul Jenks contributed a piece, "Recovery of the Old Bridle Path on Mt. Lafayette", which is wonderful in many respects and a good read. The trail was first opened as a bridle path in June, 1852,  but had been used as a foot path as early as 1850. It was abandoned in the 1860s. Jenks and three other hardy souls set out in late summer 1929 to try and locate the old trail. Jenks wrote, "it was a great opportunity as may come to an amateur only once in a lifetime; (this is the man that helped open Garfield Ridge in 1914, 1915, and 1916) it was the last remaining problem of its kind in the White Mountains." p. 362 At any rate after a lot of bushwhacking and retracing of steps they were able to locate the entire length of the old trail and, with a lot of work, standardized it for use by the time Lonesome Lake hut was secured and construction of Greenleaf Hut was completed the following year.

First views of the ridge, Mt. Lincoln and Little Haystack (right) from the switch back at the low end of Agony Ridge. I should point out that the Old Bridle Path was cut and maintained by a local businessman, similar to the Crawford Path on Mt. Washington, to take sightseers to the summit of Mt. Lafayette beginning in the mid-1800s. They traveled on horseback up the same trail used by hikers today. A "hotel" on the summit, really just a rough, low cut building with windows, provided shelter and some warmth from the weather. The building burned leaving the stone foundation which can still be seen. Remember the stone foundation on Moosilauke? They're both relics of early attempts to turn a great view from a summit into cash. Mt. Washington, being the highest, was the most popular and the most civilized with a hotel that was a real hotel with comfortable beds. Franconia Notch with its alpine scenery and beautiful lakes was a popular vacation spot up to the 20th century. There were several large (huge), lovely hotels in the notch that were served by trains from New York, Boston, Portland and Montreal.

At the switch-back the trail hops up on this sidewalk-like ledge of Conway granite (or diorite) for the steep climb up on to the ridge.

The Conway granite has been intruded by this softer red granite that is more common over near Fryburg, ME. It's much softer than the Conway granite and as you hike up the ridge and pass several outlooks you will notice how crumbly the red rock is compared to the whiter Conway granite. In the photo the red granite is eroding from water runoff.

This is the intrusive red granite that has been weathered and sculpted by wind, rain, and freeze-thaw dynamics. This rock is weathering faster than the Conway granite....

that you see here..

that has also been weathered and sculpted by the same dynamics. These equally spaced "cleft notes" pose a mystery in how, exactly, they formed but wind, water, ice, etc. were the primary contributors. The photo below illustrates "quarrying"  where smaller blocks of the Conway granite break off larger ones. Some of them tumble down into Walker Ravine from time to time.

Quarrying with an artistic touch.

Looking up the agonies towards Lafayette's summit and part of the Walker Ravine headwall.

More of the enticing morning light where the trail climbs the 3 "agonies". There are actually 5 or possibly 6 agonies if you count all the bumps along the ridge to just below the summit, but only 3 are counted; the ones below Greenleaf Hut. The fourth agony is where the hut is located.

This character was a delight as were his two dogs. He explained how much he loves hiking and being in the Whites and said he had gone out west to try the hiking out there but had to leave his dogs at home. "I couldn't do it," he said. "I missed my dogs too much." So he came home.

The Agony ridge takes it's name primarily from people like the lucky mean and women who work work at Greenleaf Hut each summer and have to carry all kinds of interesting things up it and down it. The photo shows the bottom of what we call the "first aggy" or first agony. It's also referred to as "Red Rock" because of the color of the surficial rock which has a high iron content. It's very slippery when its wet and not much fun to pack up with excessive loads. The last time the Old Bridle Path,was used by four legged animals was back in the early 1960s when the AMC used to own a string of pack mules that were used to bring in what we called the "initial" which was the heavy canned food goods. The mules were around for 20-25 years. A lot of those initial supplies that are used to get the hut up and running at the beginning of each summer, including the propane gas, is now brought in by helicopters. Hut croos pack the "fresh" (foods) and additional supplies throughout the summer.  If and when you hike up this 30 yard stretch of trail think how they got a horse to climb up it. They did it by a little trick which was to hand line the horses around red rock on the Walker Ravine side of the ridge on a solid ledge of Conway granite that had steps for the horses made of wood and held by iron bolts cemented into the granite. You can still see the bolts.

This is the slippery part of Red Rock. In pouring rain it's a good scramble.

This is the top of White Rock. The horses had to climb steeply along the edge of the ravine to reach this spot and rejoin the trail. I would imagine the riders got off the horses and walked this.

The woods on the west side of the trail. The ridge drops steeply and a 100 feet down becomes a cliff that drops down into Franconia Notch.

He left the highway early and is doing the Franconia Ridge Loop. He said the ridge was cold and windy.

This meadow-like place on the trail and just below the hut is a measuring stick for balsam fir growth. I've kept track of it for more than 5 decades and remember what it looked like, say, in 1961 when it was twice the size it is now. I used to refer to it as an "alp" and wanted to bring a cow up for the summer so we could have fresh milk.

Greenleaf Hut shuttered for the winter. It closed for the season two weeks ago in late September. It's nickname is The Flea. All the huts have nicknames. Galehead Hut is Ghoul, Zealand Falls Hut is Zool, Madison Hut is Chez Madison or Madhaus, Lakes is simply Lakes, or used to be, Mizpah is The Pah, Carter is Cata, and Lonesome is Lonesome.

I was reclining and basking in the ample sun on the porch when a couple of hikers appeared who had obviously been camping by the looks of their packs and had come down off the summit. Two young men came along first, introduced themselves and asked about water. It turned out that they were from the outdoor club of Haverford College in Pennsylvania and had been on their fall camping trip. There were a total of 30 students on the trip but they had divided into two groups of 15 students.  Fifteen went east from Franconia and 15 came west from Crawford Notch and they passed each other somewhere in the middle.

 They kept arriving.....

and flopping down...(the great pleasure of unburdening yourself of a heavy pack one's been carrying hour after hour and being able to collapse on the ground or a warm, flat rock).

                                                                       and arriving....

That morning they had hiked over from the Mt. Garfield tent site, about 5 miles, and were low on water. There's no water available at Greenleaf Hut when the hut is closed. There is a spring but it is on the north end of Eagle Lake and nearly inaccessible. The students decided to filter water from the lake to fill water bottles. Inertia caught up with this student and she instantly fell asleep on the comfortable rocks.

I like to see groups of students, teens, or young kids in the mountains, with their families, school groups, summer camps, etc, because I see them (and treat them) as the "next generation", the ones who hopefully will come back time and time again and eventually bring their families here and, in time, take an interest in preserving the knowledge, the memories, the love and the respect for these mountains that earlier generations have preserved for them.

This gleeful young man is from Sherbrooke, Province of Quebec (PQ) or, as they say in Quebec, the "Eastern Townships". He had arrived in the morning and we met by chance in the parking lot. He opted to take the Falling Waters trail to Little Haystack and then head north over Franconia Ridge to Lafayette and descend from there. We were supposed to meet in the middle of the ridge but I was dawdling and stopping to take photos so we passed each other on Lafayette.

No one's belted me yet when I've asked to take their photo. She was a little reluctant but took a nice picture anyway.

 and her husband was obliging as well.

There were all kinds of characters out and about.

Texting into the wind.

The summit! The reward for all the labor: this exquisite view across New Hamphsire into Maine, Vermont, New York and Quebec, Canada. Mt.Washington and the Presidential Range are in the background, North and South Twin the dark, middle ridge with Guyot and Bond further to the right, and  Mt. Garfield in the foreground on the left.

Looking due north over Lafayette's north peak. You can see the Pilot Range and for some reason the Percy Peaks are hidden. Mt. Sutton in Quebec is clearly visible.

Looking northeast with Adams and Jefferson of the Presidentials on the right in the medium distance. You can also clearly see the Mahoosucs in the far distance with Old Speck and Goose Eye visible. In the center of the photograph is Mt. Cabot surrounded by the Kilkenny Wilderness and to the left is the Pilot Range again. Cherry Mt. aka Mt. Martha is in the center of the photo in the middle distance. North Twin is behind and to the right of Garfield which is in front with the cliffs.

The light was intense and the colors amazing. Looking east at Mt. Washington over the Twins with Garfield to the left and, in back, Guyot and Bond. In the back row, right is Mt. Kearsarge. In the back row, left is the Mahoosucs.

Mt. Washington to the left, Mt. Carrigain on the right.

Looking southeast at Mt. Carrigain on the left, Mt. Flume on the right in middle distance (at the end of the ridge). In the middle, to the right of Carrigain are the Hancocks, and Osceola. In the distance, left to right, are the Ossipees, Passaconway, Whiteface, Sandwich Dome and Tecumseh. Nice photo!

Looking South towards Lincoln and Flume with the Sandwich Range to the left. Thursday morning, to research the feasibility of the Pemi Traverse I've been hinting that I might try, I bushwhacked up Big Coolidge mountain north of the town of Lincoln to see if there was a possible line from there to Flume but it was dense conifers, so dense it would take the fillings out of my teeth if I tried crawling through it. However, there's an abandoned trail running from the Kancamagus Highway up to Flume that skirts the east side of Mt. Osseo (or Whaleback) and that might be a bushwhack legitimately since it's been abandoned 40 years. I want to check it out and see, first, if I can find it, and, two, if it's passable.

Looking west to Moosilauke and the Kinsmans with Sugarloaf in Vermont in the background.

One last look across the "Pemi" to the Twins and the "Wash".

Heading down in afternoon sunlight.

The afternoon view of Lafayette and Lincoln from Thermopylae.

The "sidewalk" on the lower section of the ridge.

 Getting towards the bottom of the ridge and the end of a lovely day.

On the way down from the ridge I passed a young woman who was coming up the trail and who asked if I had seen two "older men" heading up and I said that I had and had checked with them how far they were planning to hike explaining that it was getting late to try for the summit. The men were congenial and thanked me for my concern. The young woman explained that they were friends of her father's and they'd all been hiking together but her father's health was not good. As she described her father's declining health she was overcome with grief and expressed the fear that his illness was serious and, if it was true, he would never climb Lafayette again, or hike again. Her grief was palpable and standing there on the trail I felt terrible for her and her father, of the loss that is inevitable and the pain that will come with it. Her dad and I are the same age and I thought about my daughters. It brought up my denial about what could happen to me and it's impact on my family. I identified with the young woman and her father both. So, I want to say to her how much your candor and openness affected me and how sorry I am for your loss and the painful changes lying ahead, and, most of all, I want to say thank you.

Afternoon light on the trail down.

10-16-12 Notes

Franconia Ridge, Mt. Carrigain, and Sandwich Range from Mt. Moosilauke

I wanted to mention that I've  received some wonderful, thoughtful letters from many readers in the past months that I really appreciate. I'm glad you're enjoying the articles and the photos and I have to say I'm flattered by what's been written.

One email I received the other day regarding my hike up Moosilauke last Saturday (10-13-12) was from Cory Ahonen who wrote, "Alex--As an avid reader and appreciator of your blog, I would have stopped and chatted for awhile en route to the summit of Moosilauke last Saturday had I known it was you I passed (I had the fluffy white American Eskimo dog bounding towards snow). I admit, given the chill in the air, your shorts did appear a bit 'crazy'! That said, it felt absolutely brilliant to be chilled to the bone at the top admiring the views. Thanks for sharing your passion for the New England forests. I've learned a lot." (Cory and his dog flew past me on the lower part of the Gorge Brook trail on Saturday. I almost caught up with them just below the summit.) Thanks for the note, Cory. I, too, felt the brilliance of being buffeted by the wind, chilled to the bone, and exhilarated by the astonishing views from the summit as essential pieces of my experience of the hike on Saturday.

There's a great line in John Steinbeck's Travels With Charley (speaking of traveling with dogs) where Steinbeck contemplates the life of a farmer who retired and migrated from northern Maine to Florida and wondering how the Maine farmer will fare in all the Florida heat he asks, "for what is warmth without cold to give it sweetness?"

And another email which came in the wake of the bear story at the end of the Passaconway article (9-29-12) from none other than Slim Harris' granddaughter, Sara. She wrote, "Looked like an awesome day on the mountain, Alex. Beautiful trail, beautiful forest, beautiful day. I had to laugh at your bear story. It sounded like my grandmother, Calista Harris, who also met and chatted with bears over the years. Her funniest was one time she had a bear outside their camp, which she'd watched for quite a while, but finally could no longer see from the windows. She started to open the big wood door to see if he was lumbering down into the woods. The door hit something and stopped, which she realized was the bear sitting on the granite boulder that was the front door step. So she said, "I beg your pardon", and quickly shut the door.

Calista (aka Cal) Harris (L.) with a friend on the Zealand Road 1984

Jack Boothman who used to live in the yellow farm house at Appalachia, at the bottom of the Valley Way trail that leads to Mt. Madison and Mt. Adams, in Randolph, NH, had all kinds of trouble with bears on his farm. They used to raise hell with some of his out building and one shed in particular. They were always trying to break into it so he took some #10 spikes (very long nails) and drove them through the door from the inside out thinking they'd keep the bears from breaking in. One day he was out by the shed and saw all these bear tracks in the snow coming and going around the shed. He looked at the spikes in the door and they were covered with bear hair. Evidently, by trying to deter the bears, he'd actually created something they could make good use of: a bear back scratcher. The funniest part was the number of bears who'd been coming to use it gave Jack the idea that they were mentioning it to other bears in passing.

One last bit, a few months ago the blog had gotten up to about 100,000 "visitors" over 5 years but it has suddenly become somewhat popular and the number of visitors is increasing by leaps and bounds, to more than 100 per day. It's an exciting development but one I did not expect and, at any rate, I'm too modest to make much out of it. I would like to welcome new comers, though, and remind readers that comments, questions, and requests are always welcome!

10-13-12 Mt. Moosilauke via Gorge Brook Trail

This couple's clothing to the cool temperatures in the mountains on Saturday morning. The photo was taken just behind the Moosilauke Ravine Lodge in Benton, NH, below Mt. Moosilauke which was my destination. Of course, I was in my new lime green Patagonia shorts. The temperature at the Ravine Lodge at 8 am was 25 degrees (F). On Mt. Washington it was 9 degrees (F) with a windchill of -19 degrees (F). The wind at the Mt.Washington Observatory was around 50 mph and they measured 2.4 inches of new snow. Moosilauke summit conditions would be less severe but still pretty cold and windy with a morning windchill around 0 degrees (F).

The old foot bridge over Gorge Brook at the bottom of the trail. There's a relatively new, sturdy foot bridge that crosses Baker River (first crossing) below the Ravine Lodge and it takes the stress out of crossing the river in high water. I'd been thinking of a completely different adventure on Saturday. I was going to bushwhack up Coolidge Mountain which is at the southern end of the Franconia Ridge just above the town of Lincoln in order to scout a line for my Pemi Traverse. When I saw the snow on the high peaks from the interstate I decided to go for Moosilauke. It was close by and  it won't be long before the gate is closed and the mountain less accessible. And it was a gorgeous mountain day, perfect for getting up high. Moosilauke is just under 5,000 feet at 4,802 feet. Another reason to climb Moosilauke was that I haven't climbed it for several years. The last time was with Liz, my daughter, so hiking it today would be like spending time with her, in a way, even though she's in Tahoe, California.

The first kiss of morning sunlight on the balsams next to the trail. I went up Gorge Brook. It used to be a gutsy trail that went pretty much in a bee-line from the Lodge to the summit. They rerouted it  a few years ago and added a mile of switchbacks to soften the steepness of the ascent.

Baker River comes down out of Jobildunc Ravine on Mt. Moosilauke and Gorge Brook dumps into it just downstream from Ravine Lodge. On special occasions as a kid I got to fly fish Baker River, and nearby Lost River, which also starts high up on Moosilauke, for brook trout (we referred to them as "brookies".) that both rivers were famous for.

Two hikers on Gorge Brook heading for the summit. They're amused by my clothing, or the lack of it.  Often during my hike I was asked if I was crazy to be wearing shorts which, for those who know me know that shorts are my standard hiking garb except above timberline when there's a deep chill and/or windchill below 10 degrees (F).

There had been a light dusting of snow in higher elevations on Friday that turned the lower portions of the trail into a kind of Hansel and Gretel motif and was probably making folks think about Christmas. It was pretty and nice to see. Hopefully we will have real snow this winter.

 

The portions of the trail that were re-routed several years ago to fix problems with the old Gorge Brook Trail are well cared for. Erosion is minor.  The goal was to make a safe trail for an ever growing population of hikers, a veritable flood, that grows annually. The 4000 Footer Club program, alone, incrementally, year by year, increases hiker numbers. With lighter gear, etc. the 4000 Footer approach is compelling and has added incentives including those who use the 4000 Footers as a means of getting and staying in shape and staying healthy, incentive that are incredibly in vogue right now and a phenomenon we should applaud. By themselves, not specifically because they are in the 4000 foot category, Mts. Moosilauke, Washington, Adams, the Lafayette-Little Haystack loop, and Carrigain are already established, attractive, and accessible destinations for most hikers. The have panache as being some of the more alpine, rugged, highest, etc. My point is only that that higher numbers of hikers means much higher densities of hikers on some hiking trails and those trails will require more intense scrutiny and upkeep as well as philosophical considerations because it all leads to greater expenses.

The forest on the mid-section of the Gorge Brook Trail looks young as if the area was cut over 20-30 years ago.There are some good articles on the logging history of Moosilauke in Appalachia the AMC's excellent journal.

This is added 10-28: Anyone interested in the Forest History of Mount Moosilauke can find an article by that title, written by J. Willcox Brown, in the June (Part I) and December (Part II), 1958, Appalachia. The articles are incredibly well written. Part II starts on pg. 221 of the December issue. Photo copies are available through the AMC Library, 5 Joy Street, Boston, MA 02108, or 617-523-0636.

 A corridor of balsam firs (Abies balsamea) leads to the summit slopes of Mt. Moosilauke that unlike most of the summits in the White Mountains resembles a broad pasture and, seen from a distance, looks nearly flat, just slightly domed shaped. Speculations over the decades by geologists have it that Moosilauke was once as high, or higher than Mt. Blanc, or the highest peaks in the Rocky Mountains, or between 14,000 and (one speculation) 18,000 feet above sea level. The summit's broad, low angled dome is not the basis for this speculation. The Wisconsinan glacial ice sheet is primarily responsible for the present shape of the White Mountains generally in addition to post-glacial weathering and erosion during the past 10,000 to 11,000 years. As to the balsams they are twice the height they were 40 years ago, in the early 1970s, so they are growing at a relatively slow pace for balsams.

At the end of the corridor is this which shows the dome.

This is what you reasonably call a "bank" of balsams. These were organized into this phalanx by a number of factors wind and available water being the predominant ones. I have slides from 1970 of this particular group of balsams and some closer to the summit that I have to process in Photoshop and will add them to the article later. The comparison is interesting.

Looking pretty much due south towards Lake Winnipesauki (or Winnipesaukee. It depends on which side of the lake your were born.) You can see Mt. Gunstock in the distance on the right of the lake and the Ossipee Mountains on the left side.

The summit in sight.

 

The summit: 4,802 asl. There was a steady, cold wind, around 30 mph, with clouds scudding right over my head.

Looking northeast at the Franconia Ridge with Mt. Lafayette the higher peak to the left. I sat and waited for the clouds to lift to get a better photo of the entire ridge but the clouds were consistently low for the better part of an hour. They were waiting for the sun to heat up the air in the valley. Here the clouds were right over my head.

A telephoto of the north half of the Franconia Ridge with Lafayette and Lincoln plainly visible.

This is a telephoto of the lower, southern end of Franconia Ridge with the iconic Mt. Osseo, or Whaleback, right in the center of the photo and down one ridge. It looks like a porpoise, or whale fin with the animal swimming towards the left.  This is one route I'd planned to bushwhack up today but changed my plans. I'm glad I had the chance to reconnoiter from Moosilauke because the maps aren't as good as looking at it. Mt. Coolidge in low in the center of the photo. It looks like a long haul across Coolidge's west ridge and up to the summit of Mt. Flume, on the left side of the photo (with the slides). From Flume I planned to descend rapidly into a hardwood filled ravine that runs down to Lincoln Brook. It's getting pretty late in the season to consider the traverse at any rate. Unless I did it with a full moon next month and had decent weather for hiking at night I'll probably postpone it until next season. In the photo that's Carrigain on the right and Mt. Washington is a small white patch on the far left in the background.

A wider view towards the east with Mt. Carrigain, again, close to the center in the middle background. Mt. Kearsarge, my old friend, is just to the right of Carrigain in the background, then Osceola, Tripyramid, Tecumseh, and Sandwich Dome. You can just make out the summit of Passaconway next to Osceola on the left.

The ridge to the north towards the Beaver Brook Trail and Kinsman Notch. I could reach up and touch the cloud as it passed overhead!

 

Looking back at the summit from the north end of the summit plateau so you can see it in profile from the north with the gentle curve of the dome. It's almost flat.

Heading back to the 45 minutes later and the summit is getting populated with the first day hikers.

 

  A crowd was beginning to form, an indication that there were lots of people on the trail heading up.

 

The couple I photographed at the Ravine Lodge, plus a bevy of other hikers trying to stay warm in the harsh wind.

 

It was dog heaven. In all, I saw 11 dogs on or near the summit. Most were golden retrievers.

 

A couple from Bartlett, NH. who are doing the 4,000 footers. I descended against a staunch tide of upwardly mobile hikers, nearly a continuous line. I lost count. The diversity was wonderful in every way you can make note of it. There were quite a few folks my age, but a lot of college-age hikers, too. There were people from France, England, Germany, Calabria in Italy, Canada, Finland, and New Hampshire. It was a lovely day. Everyone had questions. On the summit I was called on often to name all the mountains in a 360 degree circle starting with Camels Hump in Vermont and ending with Sugarbush just to the left of it. I named the peaks clockwise.

Back near the bottom it a warm, lovely fall day.

The Venerable Ravine Lodge which has been owned and operated by Dartmouth College for years.

The view of Moosilauke from the Ravine Lodge. It's calling out to you.