5-3-14 Lakes of The Clouds, Mt. Washington, via Ammonoosuc Ravine Trail

Saturday morning (5-3-14) I met Doug Dodd (L), Chris Stewart, and Maverick at the Cog Railway base station for an overdue hike up to Lakes of the Clouds via the always beautiful Ammonoosuc Ravine Trail (it's referred to also as the "Ammy" or "ART"). Adding up our combined ages would equal about 200 years and among us there are probably 30 years of employment in the AMC huts with Dougy, perhaps, having the most. We also represent at least 150 years of combined experience hiking, running, skiing, swimming, bushwhacking, exploring and backpacking in the White Mountains. The point is that individually and as a group we've spent a lot of time and had an awful lot of fun in these mountains.


There was an array of trail conditions prevalent on the Ammy as far as Gem Pool. The assortment  included this icy sidewalk which, until recently, had been snow, 4-5 feet of it, packed down by myriad hikers and that is now condensed to an uneven tread that made us don our micro spikes and crampons.

Before the ice sidewalk there was a stretch just up from the trail head of mud that, in places, was 6 inches deep and deceiving, too. It would look firm but we'd sink in up to our ankles!

Even higher and above all of that there was rotten snow with vast opportunities for "post holing" up to one's hips if you like, or something completely beyond mere post holing where it requires a feat of ingenuity and brute strength to dig yourself out.

But, then, what could possibly be lovelier? It was wonderful to be back!

Gem Pool is a prominent feature of the Ammy dating back at least to the 1700s and, for all those years, has often been used as a swimming hole. The Ammy, as we find it today, was "standardized" by Charles Blood and Nathaniel Goodrich in September 1916, but in its earlier history was referred to as "The Escape Glen" and used by scores of hikers, as early as 1742, to get down of the ridge quickly when bad weather set in.

Snow banks and open water. The shade of the woods around Gem Pool keeps the snow from melting, or at least not quickly, until June some years, and it also keeps the water in the pool at a toe curling low temperature. Gem Pool is but one cascade in a chain that descends the headwall of Ammonoosuc Ravine starting at the Lakes of the Clouds and then becomes the Ammonoosuc River.  

Above Gem Pool the trail begins a steep ascent up the headwall of Ammonoosuc Ravine.  On Saturday there were random patches of blue ice on the steeper sections of the trail that called for the use of crampons or micro spikes. And I can personally attest to the usefulness of hiking poles in scrambling up the steep ice. At 10 am the top surface of the ice was softening making the purchase more secure.

As the trail arrives at the top of the head wall this view opens up! It's looking north towards Vermont and Quebec over the Dartmouth Range in the mid-foreground with Cherry Mt. (Mt. Martha is another name for it) in the center background. At this point the sky had cleared and we were enjoying the sun and blue sky. It actually got hot for the last stretch to the hut.

The same view to the northwest but higher up where the trail crosses the Ammonoosuc River.

We were surprised to see the extent of this ice formation on the river. It's different every year but this is the first time I can remember it being completely frozen.

As we got close to Lakes of the Clouds hut where we each have worked for a number of summers and mostly back in the 1960s and early 1970s a switch seemed to have been turned on with the phrase "Hey, do you remember the time..?" or, "Do you remember so and so..?"and the answers came in fragments until the memory took form and was followed by cascading laughter as we remembered incident after incident, character after character. It was great fun.

The winter trail goes all over the place. Often the person who broke trail after a snow storm goes a little to far north, or south, then someone decides they know a better route, until its a maze of snow shoe tracks. But, as the snow melts and the river rises with snow melt and eats at the snow from below creating hazards for hikers where they might break through, the choices narrow down and hikers tend to wander less and stay on the official, blazed trail. In those early months, though, it's stunning to wander about footloose and fancy free and go anywhere you like across the wide wind packed snow.

This attests to the snow depth at this site which is about 4 1/2 feet deep.

Looking up to the summit of Mt. Washington with the summit itself hidden in clouds. There's a light dusting of snow around the summit, down onto the saddle. This is that time of year when leaves are just beginning to come out in the flat land, suggesting that spring has arrived,  and, here,  you can climb back up into winter.

A few minutes later with a clearer view of the summit. The weather was being fickle and teasing with bright sunlight and warmth but a front was building and coming in from the southwest with darker clouds.

The higher, the better the view. Still looking northwest.

Lakes of the Clouds Hut with the summit of Mt. Monroe to the right.

Pardosa. That's the name of one of a "genus" of spiders that inhabit the alpine zone. You can refer to them as thin legged wolf spiders. It's usually associated with grassy fields and is very common in the "lawns" of the Presidential range. I'm not sure which species this specimen is as there are several different ones on Mt. Washington. I'm going to make a guess that it's either P. distincta, or P. saxatillis. They survive here all winter and are out surprisingly early. Doug saw this one as it scurried up the steep ice. Makes you cold just looking at it! As you hike above timberline you will notice these wolf spiders moving quickly on the rocks in and near the trail. They are of utmost importance to the ecology of the alpine zone so use your utmost care not to step on them.

Ice, suggesting a glacier, from surges of water coming out of the Lakes during changes in temperature. Water pressure building in the larger (deeper) lake often pushes the ice up and out of the way as it heads for the Ravine causing a bulge of ice to form behind the hut.

A clearer view of the summit.

Getting ready for hut opening which should be happening in a few weeks.

We encountered very few people on the trail. I think, in all, we met 7 other hikers all day which is unusual. The weather was slightly psychotic, but not terrible, and the air was really clear making for great views. This couple passed us on the way up the Ammy and were headed back down after summiting Mt. Monroe.

Mt. Monroe. Note the black clouds. Also note the lack of snow in this photo and the one below.  A number of the alpines will be blossoming towards the end of this month and even if there is no snow now the ground is saturated with water that the plants will depend on. The soil will dry quickly as the sun rises higher in the sky, so the plants have to flower in a small,  but critical window of time.

  Mt. Monroe, again, looking at the terracing on what has long been referred to as Monroe Flats. This area is federally protected, as is the entire Alpine Zone of the long Presidential Range, and is habitat for some of the rarest of the 43 species of alpine plants that are found on Mt. Washington. I came up to Lakes principally to note snow cover in the plant habitat areas. Monroe Flats experiences high wind velocities all year which accounts for the topography and the lack of snow. Alpine flowers bloom very early to take advantage of the short growing season but also the fluctuation in soil mositure. Water is most dependable just as the snow is melting. Monroe Flats is an amazing ecological realm that compares to areas of the high arctic but here it is extremely fragile and becoming more so every year. After attending to it for more than 50 years I've seen profound changes which included the near demise and then the heroic restoration of a species, Dwarf Cinquifoil, as well as the continued erosion by natural elements. The reddish, rust-colored plant is Diapensia lapponica which grows in tufts, or "cushions" of myriad plants that are one of the first to bloom here with a beautiful, small white blossom.

The Bigelow Sedge-Potentilla lawn to the south of the larger lake. The ridge in the background is the boundary between the Dry River and the Ammonoosuc River watersheds. It's also the route of Crawford Path #1 that first came into use around 1819 as a bridle path from Crawford Notch to the summit of Mt. Washington--a long trip with much of it exposed to the weather.

Looking a bit more to the northeast from the last photo to the highest areas of the Ammonoosuc watershed with the summit of Mt. Washington to the left. It's so beautiful! The light on Saturday was amazing.

Isn't this cool? I think it could properly be referred to as "periglacial" activity.

Diapensia, Bigelow Sedge, Haircap Moss, and assorted lichens.

Diapensia laponica L. Again,  the Diapensia is at home in the high arctic. There has long been debate regarding the morphology of this plant and the reddish "cushion" that is its most notable feature. The dark red color absorbs the sun's warmth so it makes sense that the cushion protects the plants from the cold, particularly sudden drops in temperature, and it also helps the plant retain water.

Deer's Hair,  Scirpus cespitosis, var. callosus

Doug and Maverick looking where a plaque used to be fixed to the rock he is looking at. Following the death of Stuart "Slim" Harris in 1969 the plaque was fixed here (see next photo), but has since been moved.

Slim was a denizen of these mountains for years and a formidable botanist as was his wife, Calista, or "Cal" as everyone called her. Slim worked in the huts in the 1920's through the 1940s, off and on, and stuck around long afterwards to help document native plants in a tradition that goes back to the early 1800s with Bigelow, Tuckerman, and Oaks. Slim, like many other great names that explored the flora of the White Mountains was part of the last generation of botanists that studied under the esteemed Merritt Lyndon Fernald at Harvard and used the Whites as their laboratory.

The dedication ceremony of the plaque for Slim in August 1969. Doug is the fourth face from the right. He remembers the day as being windy and cold. Cal Harris, is the sixth face from the left, a brilliant ecologist-botanist in her own right, and revered by all of us who worked in the huts when she and Slim spent their summers here. Doug went on at length describing the summer periods when Cal and Slim would stay for weeks ar Lakes going off during the day to study the plants, and, in the evenings, leading informal "flower walks", and talking to guests about the rare plants they prized, and helping out around the hut.

Since posting this aticle I've heard from Slim's and Cals' children/grandchildren including their son in law, Sanford "Sandy" Wilbur who is the person peeking out third from the left in the above photo. The person to the far left is Curt Curtis; then Natalie Curtis next; Sandy; Cal Harris sixth; Miriam Underhill with the hat, Shawn Wilbur and Sally Harris Wilbur, Doug, two hut crew members, and Bruce Sloat. 

Sandy said that the momentum for Slim's plaque, in addition to Slim's family and friends, had come from the hut crew who wanted to honor Slim and the botanical work that was his legacy.

 

 Sandy also suggested that the missing plaque where we were looking on Saturday may have originally been the location of a plaque commemorating the death of William Curtis by exposure in the famous blizzard of June 30, 1900.

An example of "nivation".

Looking south towards the Moats, Mt. Chocorua, and, to the right, the Sandwich Range. The Old Crawford Path is visible in near the bottom of the photo threading its way between the rocks. It hasn't been in formal use for a hundred years but you can still follow it in places,

Showers moving in from the southwest.

The upper water collection area for the two Lakes of the Clouds and uppermost source of the Ammonoosuc water "system". This depression on the flank of the mountain that was  provided by glacial mechanics thousands, maybe millions, of years ago, and is where the Ammonoosuc begins. The larger Lake is the blue area in the photo's center.

                                         Looking west across the larger of the two lakes.

and looking back to the northeast and the ridge. Up to the left, that long slope covered with snow is the cutting edge of the divide between the Ammonoosuc River (eventually the Connecticut River) and the Saco River.

The weather had changed quickly and completely. It was getting cold and rain showers were closing in. It looked like a temporary system, but we headed down.

Showers moving rapidly towards the northwest seen from the Ammy.

Back in the trees again, just above Gem Pool. It was a great hike, a rare treat to hang out with Dougy and Chris, and a lovely day all in all. I'm hoping this hike will be the first of many over the coming months. See you in the Hills.

4-22-14 Earth Day #54

    Looking east from Mt. Skinner early this morning.

    

 Sun begrudgingly makes an appearance as I start my hike.

 Taylor Notch Trail ascends Mt. Skinner from Rt. 47. It's not the White Mountains by any stretch of the imagination, but there's beauty here, and peace, particularly in the early morning.

I call this "Windy Corner" after the Windy Corner named by Charles Houston on K2. This one is
on the east shoulder of Mt. Skinner.

 Looking north up the Connecticut River Valley

 Oh sleepy town of Northampton.

Carrington, a kindred spirit who climbs Mt. Skinner "almost everyday." Our paths have crossed many times via mutual friends and our affinity for Mt. Skinner. This was our first face-to-face meeting and a great pleasure. Happy Earth Day all!

3-29-14 Mt. Jackson 4052' asl.

A winning smile! On pulling into the parking area for the Webster-Jackson Trail I was stunned to see dozens of climbers getting geared up for a day of technical ice and rock climbing on the cliffs above the railroad tracks on the west side of Crawford Notch. These two men look like they have enough gear for the Eiger. Driving through Crawford Notch early Saturday morning I noticed that almost every likely parking place on 302 was filled with cars and climbers were heading up towards the large areas of ice high on both sides of the notch--a remarkable testament of how popular winter sports are becoming. Stopping and talking to some of them I found that they were not all of the younger generation. Some of them, males and females both, were in their 50s, or close. I was impressed.

I was doing a day trip and drove up I-91 from Northampton, MA, north thru Vermont to Littleton, NH, in pouring rain. As I approached Twin Mountain around 8 am the rain stopped and there were signs of clearing. I had three hikes in mind: Carter Dome, Mt. Nancy and Mt. Jackson with the final choice resting on weather and time. The snow banks along the highway made climbing Mt. Nancy an unlikely choice. They were 6-7 feet high and there were no safe places to leave my car. Carter Dome would have required another hour of driving (both ways) and I was already running late. The parking area at the top of Crawford Notch was plowed out and that alone made Mt. Jackson the better choice.

The snow in the woods was 4 feet deep. The trail was broken out but if you stepped off the packed part of the trail you'd "post hole" down to your hip. I chose to avoid all of that by wearing snowshoes. It's a trade off because snowshoes slow you down a bit.

The trail leaves Rt. 302 at the south end of Saco Lake, a small tarn that is considered the source of the west branch of the Saco River that flows south through Crawford Notch to Bartlett, North Conway and on to the Atlantic Ocean in Maine. Saco Lake is fed by several brooks most of them descending from the east, from the large tracts of forest between Mt. Pierce, Mt. Jackon, and Mt. Webster, and collectively named "Silver Cascades".  They are most evident on the east side of highway 302 towards the top of Crawford Notch, but they are represented, too, by non-descript streams that have, over years, cut steep sided, often deep, notch-shaped gullies like this one. The Crawford Path parallels a fluvial stream bed cut deep into the side of the mountain by Gibbs Brook and the Webster-Jackson Trail both parallels and cuts across several streams. Gibbs Brook flows north out of Crawford Notch and joins the Ammonoosuc River 6 miles north in Bretton Woods. The Saco and the Ammonoosuc are two of several important rivers that drain the Whites and the protection of which is one of the key purposes of the White Mountain National Forest.

After the trail leaves Rt. 302 it climbs at a fairly steep grade gaining access to the "bench" that runs north and south above the notch.

It steep in a few sections that are "steps" where it gains altitude quickly...

 

and passes under and around these huge bulkheads that mark the top of the notch.

At Bugle Cliff the trail eases out having reached a gentler slope.

The view from Bugle Cliff is limited with the exception of this vista to the north that includes a glimpse of the tiny Highland Center.

Looking down on to the train tracks in the Notch and up at Mt. Avalon and the Willey-Field ridge.

Just to the north of Mt. Jackson is the Gibbs Brook Scenic Area and beyond that is the Mt. Clinton Road. Confined in that area, between Mt. Jackson, the Mt. Clinton Road, is an old forest of Red Spruce (Pica rubens) that gets very little attention but offers a wonderful glimpse of what size the spruce achieved before the beginning of the disastrous logging in the White Mountains that began in the late 1870s.

This Red Spruce measured out at 20 inches diameter and there were large ones I couldn't get to due to the deep snow. They are quite elegant and similar, if not a little large that the red spruce I measured in the Mt. Whiteface-Mt. Passaconway natural area back in September.

A red spuce in the rear and a large yellow birch (Betula alleghaniensis). Yellow birch grow to 60 feet or a bit higher and with a diameter (DBH--meaning diameter at breast height) of 3 feet under ideal conditions--meaning at lower elevations in stands of other hardwoods, but this was 27 inches DBH.

The relationship between these trees and the rivers talked about earlier is an intrinsic one. The area around Mt. Jackson with borders on the Mt. Clinton Road and Dry River to the south is a vast catchment, like an upraised palm, that "cleans" and funnels water towards the valley below. Rain is one source, but snow, and particularly the depth of this year's "snow pack", is preferable as it admits melt water into the topsoil slowly so that it penetrates deeper. Rain is more apt to form sheet flow that descends the steep mountain flanks so quickly that it doesn't penetrate. The trees and vegetation in general help the soil retain moisture.

The sun finally came out after a slow start. Clouds lingered on the nearby summits after the rain stopped and the day promised to be warm and sunny into late afternoon when a trailing weather front  bringing snow and rain was forecast.

The brook bed for one of the streams comprising the "Silver Cascades".

The amount of snow that has accumulated this winter has been astonishing.

It gave the impression that everything was smothered by it.

A ghost.

Halfway, or roughly.

Looking over towards Mt. Willey and sensing a pleasing gain in altitude.

The prevalence of smaller trees also lends to the feeling of higher altitude.

A little above halfway I was passed by this handsome lot who were traveling light and without snowshoes proving that it could be done.

And by the way, Mt Jackson is not named for President Andrew Jackson. Even though the mountain is located on the "Southern Presidential" ridge it is not really one of them. It was named after Charles Thomas Jackson, New Hampshire State Geologist 1841-1844 who published a paper, "On the Geologic Age of the White Mountains" in 1848 and who was controversially involved in several far flung scientific projects including the development of the telegraph, the use of diethyl ether as anaesthesia, as well as being prominent in the field of geology.  And Charles T. Jackson should not be confused with Charles H. Hitchcock (as I often do) who served as State Geologist and authored the three volume "The Geology of New Hampshire". Charles H. Hitchcock's imprint on New Hampshire geology is huge. ( I've always thought that Mt. Hitchcock, a trail-less peak with three summits, the highest at 3620', located in the southern tier of the Pemi was named after Charles Hitchcock but I am not sure of this.)

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More stunning morning sunlight

and shadows on the trail.

Two red spruce cones (with seeds attached) wait patiently for their futures to unfold. They may be hoping for a spectacular ride down the mountain perhaps even connecting with a brook to carry them down and beyond this mountain flank as they surf on the crest of the spring thaw (if there is one!). They will probably remain close to where I photographed them. The transport of seeds is fascinating because it's quite random and most do not travel far from their "parent" trees. Red spruce cones are gourmet items for red squirrels who eat vast quantities which is another way the seeds get transported but mostly in their immediate neighborhoods.

The summit of Mt. Jackson. It's a typical White Mountain summit produced by ledges of granite

that get steep just below the top.

Looking west-north-west towards the Willey-Field-Tom ridge and other peaks to the northwest. Mt. Willard where some of the ice climbing is going on is in the right center of the photo.

Lovely Mt. Carrigain in the right distance.

The Willey and Field ridge again with Mt. Bond to the left on the horizon. Mt. Webster is in the near distance, but dark. Shooting into the sun darkened the foreground.

Northwest, again, and in the far left background Mt. Lafayette with snow gleaming.

Mt. Clinton in the center with Mizpah Hut down to the left and barely visible. The Southern Presidentials extend from Mt Clinton (not a president) up to Mt. Washington from Mt. Clinton over Mts. Pierce, Eisenhower, Franklin, and Monroe.

Mt. Washington!

These folks again. They celebrated their first 4,000 footer after their successful hike up Mt. Jackson.

Another group approaches the summit.

Then there's that wonderful feeling of moving quickly down.

These guys were sweating. It was well into the high 30s (Fahrenheit) and calm so it turned out to be a spring-like day. These gentlemen hailed from Hillsborough, NH,

and were joined by a third Hillsborough resident.

Heading down in the early afternoon.

And a change of light, too, as clouds gather in front of another storm system predicted to start tonight and dump more snow on the mountains.

On my way home I saw several strings of Canada geese flying north.