Planes, Trains, and Near-Death Experiences

I finally snapped. Whether it was the heat or the general lack of things to do outdoors, I gave up on self-restraint and bought a plane ticket back to Maine. I didn't have much of a plan for what I was going to do with my week and a half here, except that I knew I was going to have to get some work done. Otherwise, I was planning a nice, relaxing time with my family, perhaps with some leisurely hiking and general enjoyment of the ocean. I did make it down to Boston and Dartmouth to see some friends (and I got there by TRAIN which I can now walk to from my HOUSE because of Amtrak's expansion to FREEPORT last year!), Julia and Eli (and a veritable compendium of new faces), which was quite lovely. I had to change trains in Boston when I was heading to Dartmouth, and I had quite a wait, so after getting a piping hot cuppa clam chowdah, I wandered in a vague line between North Station and Back Bay Station, exploring the Boston Common and the various old buildings on my route (most of which were churches and meeting houses).

Trinity Church, c. 1875, reflected in the John Hancock Tower, 1977. Just had my point-and-shoot here.

I overnighted in Dartmouth at Julia's and, after a quick stop by the beach in the morning, headed back to Boston, this time for a full day, where I met up with Eli and a friend of his and we took in some hearty Irish fare, some great live Irish/Indian fusion music, and Ben & Jerry's on Newbury Street.

Boston Public Garden

I didn't get back into Freeport until 8:30 or so that night, but the very next morning I was off again. This particular adventure was not planned or, really, anticipated. My brother and I hopped in the car and drove over to New Hampshire to do some hiking in the White Mountains. This seemed like a good idea, and for the most part it was. But neither of us had hiking boots (I left mine in Ohio) and, as I mentioned earlier, we didn't do a lot of planning. This will come into play later...

Our goal was to hike Mount Washington, which is, at 6,288 ft, the tallest mountain in New England and, with a base at 140 ft above sea level, is the most prominent mountain east of the Mississippi. However, we decided to warm up the first day with a mere 4,000 ft climb - or rather, a 4,000 ft climb, a 1,000 ft descent, and a re-ascent to 4,000 ft - of the North and South Baldface peaks. The ascent was long, but manageable. The entire trail, which was a loop, was approximately 10 miles and we completed it in roughly 6.5 hours, including stops at all three summits along the trail, where we were treated to such views as this one:

Looking southeast from the first summit. The last summit of the day, South Baldface, is the highest and to the right.

It proved prudent to do this trek first, because we got a sense of our pacing and what we would need to do to make the next day's ascent (same mileage, 1.5x the height) comfortable and as safe as possible. After coming down from the Baldface circle, we pitched our tent in the dark at Dolly Copp campground on route 16 and slept incredibly well.

We set out at the comfortably late hour of 9:00 am toward Pinkham Notch, where we parked and acquired a topo map of the Presidential Range, from which we planned out our ascent to the summit. We were among relatively few who set out that morning (possibly because it was a Monday), so we signed the hiker's registry and got moving without too much trouble. We ascended via Tuckerman Ravine, which was steep but not too challenging, given that the weather, though foggy, was not disagreeable. Having learned from the previous day, we had packed 3 liters of water each, also knowing that we'd be able to refill at the summit. We wound up steadily to the ravine, moving relatively slowly in an attempt to save most of our energy for the headwall. There were no unique wildlife sightings to speak of, so mostly I just took pictures of the scenery.

Pond below Tuckerman Ravine

Much of the trail below the headwall looked like this.

Though we stopped frequently as we moved up the headwall, I didn't pull out my camera, for fear that it would fall out of my backpack and tumble down the oft-nearly-vertical slopes and be lost forever in a shower of tiny pieces of plastic and glass. Somehow this fear seemed to vanish on the headwall of Huntington's Ravine, which doesn't make a whole lot of sense. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

We got up without incident and were soon in the clouds, and after a brief-ish scramble up the boulder-strewn summit cone, we were wandering around, along with (for some odd reason) a bunch of tourists, trying to find the summit building/observatory (for those of you who don't know, there is, in fact, an auto road that leads to the top of Mount Washington). I say try, of course, because it was quite a challenge.

View from the top, with the Cog Railway.

But eventually we found it, and we rested up a while before departing for the descent. Here things got interesting, and I will admit that it is entirely my fault. I decided that Huntington's ravine would be a fun way to go down, and it would make a nice loop for the day. Tuckerman gets a lot of the publicity for being a dangerous place, and I hadn't even heard of Huntington's, so I figured it would be a relaxing, safe way down. I noticed on the topo map that the headwall was about as steep as Tuckerman, and a little longer, and I assumed that it would be similar trail: well-marked and basically a steep boulder scramble. I was not really expecting the sheer rock faces we encountered.

Like this one. That my brother up near the top, if you can spot him.

As we made our way down we routinely had to stop and assess short, steep surfaces for the best way down (often crab-walking or maneuvering into a hanging position followed by a short drop). In general it was challenging in a fun way, although there were a couple points where it seemed we might not be intact when we came out at the bottom. When the slope broke at the bottom of the headwall, it transitioned to a boulder field, where we got lost a couple of times due to poor trail marking, but eventually we found our way out of the ravine onto the trail and found our way back to the lodge, stopping for occasional water breaks next to the stream we followed out.

The sun sets on the stream running out of Huntington's Ravine.

Our total mileage numbered less than day 1 - around 9 - but our time extended to 9.5 hours including breaks. We drove out through Conway in time for a late dinner and headed home.

Only the following morning, when I woke up and could barely feel my legs, did I take it upon myself to do some research on our precipitous descent:

During the snow-free months the Huntington Ravine Trail is regarded as the most exposed and intimidating hiking path in the White Mountains...Because of its steepness, it's not frequently used when wet, by persons traveling with dogs or heavy packs, as a descent trail, or by the faint of heart.

-Mount Washington Avalanche Center

This ravine hosts the most difficult trail in the White Mountains. The Huntington Ravine trail gains 2000 feet over narrow, steep and exposed ledges. It is not recommended in wet conditions, and is definitely not a choice for hiking down.

-HikeTheWhites.com

Very, very steep and rugged terrain. Not for beginners or faint at heart. Do not go down Huntington.

-Trimble Outdoors

In short, what we did was probably not a terrific idea. And we were incredibly lucky that, despite the thick fog, there was no foul weather or precipitation. I'm still mildly in shock.

But it was awesome.

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P.S. Minor revelation: it's really hard writing about places you already know so well. When you're a tourist, you concentrate so hard on getting as much as you can from an experience and you pay attention to every detail. But when you're home you take things for granted and don't think of them in the same way. In light of this revelation, I don't think this blog post does this adventure justice. I know I would write about it differently if I were visiting here for the first time, or as an outsider at any time. I can write about how much I miss the mountains and oceans and rolling blue hills of New England, but it doesn't come out the same way.

I've been struggling a lot recently with issues of perception and context. Long story short, I haven't made any progress toward a resolution. I'll keep you posted.

'Till next time!