Moosilauke (10/48)
Dec. 9th, 2006 04:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jtniehofNearing the end of the AMC Winter Hiking Program, we wanted to take on a nice easy 4000-footer to ease into winter conditions. Moosilauke seemed to fit the bill.
We reached the head of Ravine Road fairly late on a grey, overcast day. Although the road was ungated, Erik's car (with its lousy tires) only made it about five feet up, so we parked and geared up. It was nearly 10:30 by the time we were ready to start the roadwalk. The walk itself wasn't all bad, except we were still adjusting to heavy boots and heavy packs. Of course, there were also lots of people with AWD driving by and laughing at us....
Reaching the end of the road and the parking lot, we doubled back around the lodge to reach the bridge over the Baker river. Although not winter by Mirriam's definition, the mountain was certainly in winter conditions and the water struck me as greenish yet perfectly clear.
We obviously weren't the first on the trail; if nothing else all those people passing us on the road had gone ahead. The trail was easily barebootable although slightly sloppy.
Several people asked if we were spending the night, since my pad was visible outside the bag. We tried to explain proper planning for being benighted in winter but it was obvious most pepole weren't buying the whole being prepared thing.
After the junction with the Snapper we crossed back over Gorge Brook, and a group of three women (and a couple of canine companians) caught up with us while I was retying my boot and Erik was back in the trees. We'd passed them once before and decided to hike together for awhile. It turns out one of them knew Robin from MassBike, which amused me.
Soon we passed the "last sure water" and started the serious climb. The trees thinned a little, but we didn't get much of a view despite occasional small breaks in the cloud.
The slog up was fairly tedious, but at least short. I was very happy to reach treeline; the ladies had taken a bit of lead (for some reason one was wearing crampons) and we paused to put our hoods up.
As we stepped out of the shelter we entered a completely different world.
I was absolutely thrilled, although it took concentration to keep from being blown around. We passed up our three partners without a word, as conversing would be hard. A brief trek and a tiny bit of trailfinding brought us to the summit.
By now we were getting worried that the ladies hadn't caught up. Our original plan was to head out the carriage road and back down to the south summit, but we decided to check back and maybe see if we could catch a ride to skip the roadwalk. So we turned back across the alpine zone.
As it turns out, we never found them back, despite a fast descent, so presumably they were fine and turned back just past treeline for the dogs' sake. Halfway through the roadwalk we pulled out headlamps, getting back to the car between 4 and 5, feeling absolutely elated from such a dramatic winter experience. We stopped at the Mountain Wanderer in Lincoln and had a great time talking to Steve. I picked up a copy of Don't Die on the Mountain and he recommended we do dinner at Woodstock Station, which, as it turned out, was fantastic, including a great maple porter which put me to sleep for the ride home.
We reached the head of Ravine Road fairly late on a grey, overcast day. Although the road was ungated, Erik's car (with its lousy tires) only made it about five feet up, so we parked and geared up. It was nearly 10:30 by the time we were ready to start the roadwalk. The walk itself wasn't all bad, except we were still adjusting to heavy boots and heavy packs. Of course, there were also lots of people with AWD driving by and laughing at us....
Reaching the end of the road and the parking lot, we doubled back around the lodge to reach the bridge over the Baker river. Although not winter by Mirriam's definition, the mountain was certainly in winter conditions and the water struck me as greenish yet perfectly clear.
We obviously weren't the first on the trail; if nothing else all those people passing us on the road had gone ahead. The trail was easily barebootable although slightly sloppy.
Several people asked if we were spending the night, since my pad was visible outside the bag. We tried to explain proper planning for being benighted in winter but it was obvious most pepole weren't buying the whole being prepared thing.
After the junction with the Snapper we crossed back over Gorge Brook, and a group of three women (and a couple of canine companians) caught up with us while I was retying my boot and Erik was back in the trees. We'd passed them once before and decided to hike together for awhile. It turns out one of them knew Robin from MassBike, which amused me.
Soon we passed the "last sure water" and started the serious climb. The trees thinned a little, but we didn't get much of a view despite occasional small breaks in the cloud.
The slog up was fairly tedious, but at least short. I was very happy to reach treeline; the ladies had taken a bit of lead (for some reason one was wearing crampons) and we paused to put our hoods up.
As we stepped out of the shelter we entered a completely different world.
I was absolutely thrilled, although it took concentration to keep from being blown around. We passed up our three partners without a word, as conversing would be hard. A brief trek and a tiny bit of trailfinding brought us to the summit.
By now we were getting worried that the ladies hadn't caught up. Our original plan was to head out the carriage road and back down to the south summit, but we decided to check back and maybe see if we could catch a ride to skip the roadwalk. So we turned back across the alpine zone.
As it turns out, we never found them back, despite a fast descent, so presumably they were fine and turned back just past treeline for the dogs' sake. Halfway through the roadwalk we pulled out headlamps, getting back to the car between 4 and 5, feeling absolutely elated from such a dramatic winter experience. We stopped at the Mountain Wanderer in Lincoln and had a great time talking to Steve. I picked up a copy of Don't Die on the Mountain and he recommended we do dinner at Woodstock Station, which, as it turned out, was fantastic, including a great maple porter which put me to sleep for the ride home.