Antlerpeak
06-17-2005, 02:54 PM
In keeping with the great saga by Lumberzac this will verify we all have one or more of those mountains that seem not to like us. It is not an attempt to out do or one up Zac it is to let him know he is not alone.
Marshall until you get it right.
Day one
One fine May day many years ago my hiking partner Bob and I decided to try our first trailess peak. A day trip, none of that backpacking for greenhorns stuff. We followed the Calamity Brook trail intending to use the Herbert Brook herd path. We fell very short on this one and in review even a blind man could tell we had no chance as the day progressed. Remember we had to return to the upper works no campsite here. When we reached that old swinging bridge we found a raging brook with no suitable place to ford. The bridge was swinging quite well except most of it was mashed against the rocks at the base of the small waterfall. Quit is a word unknown to us and we backtracked to the previous stream crossing where a bridge was intact recrossed it and proceeded to bushwhack on that side of the stream thereby avoid the crossing at the swinging bridge. This added a mile and a half to our extended trip. Above the swinging bridge a few inches of snow were encountered by the time we reached the hight of land the snow was waist deep. At about four pm even we understood this plan is not going to work. Marshall 1 46R wannabees 0
Day 2
In early June my son and daughter were enlisted to join me for a second attemp, Bob found some insignificant reason to back out. This time we made it to the Herbert Brook Herd path but not without incident. From a point before Flowed Lands my son and daughter began the sibling ritual that began as simple competing for position on the trail. By Flowed Lands it had escallated into baiting each other finally disintegrating into full blown bickering until my daughter announced at Herbert Brook her feet hurt, she could not walk. Well dad had enough by this time and the retreat began. Interestingly enough my daughter seemed to have undergone a complete restoration and no one could keep up with her on the way out. Marshall 2- 46R wannabees 0
Day 3
Later that same month my son joined Bob and I for yet another attempt. This time we followed the herd path ending up on a densely wooded summit below a long ridge. Rather than retrace our steps we thrashed through the thickets losing considerable elevation until we finally reached the slide above Herbert Brook. Upon the dawning of where we were it was understood without much of a discussion we were out of time. Again we headed down and the words uttered months earlier by Grace Hudowalski came crashing back. "When following the herd path remember not to lose sight of the stream. There are many paths all wander, the true one stays with the brook." I thought we won't mention this to Grace. Marshall 3- 46R wannabees 0
Day 4
Sometimes mountains will act this way to see if you are serious about summiting. We were and determined this was the time to begin the next phase, backpacking. In August of the same year our passion resumed. It was determined to camp at Flowed Lands and day hike the mountain from there. If we didn't make it we would try again the next day. In our warped way of thinking each attempt brought us closer to the summit, therefore this time we should make it. Especially as we had the herd path figured out. On the herd path along Herbert Brook it began to sprinkle upon reaching the slide it turned into a light but steady rain. Near the top of the slide it was a downpour. I stopped, looked at my watch. Bob looked forelorn as he stared down the slope saying "Oh well another day." The water continued to come down in waves as we turned to descend. My son ten years old at the time started to go toward the summit. He called back saying "we are at the top of the slide and I will either reach the summit or drown." I looked at Bob nodded and followed my son. Within minutes I could hear the clanging of the cannister lid. No kodachrome minutes here the view consisted of three drowned rats holding onto a grey metal cannister. It took very little time to sign the register, close the lid and make tracks as fast as we could for that lean-to.
Like I said most of us have one of these stroies.
Marshall until you get it right.
Day one
One fine May day many years ago my hiking partner Bob and I decided to try our first trailess peak. A day trip, none of that backpacking for greenhorns stuff. We followed the Calamity Brook trail intending to use the Herbert Brook herd path. We fell very short on this one and in review even a blind man could tell we had no chance as the day progressed. Remember we had to return to the upper works no campsite here. When we reached that old swinging bridge we found a raging brook with no suitable place to ford. The bridge was swinging quite well except most of it was mashed against the rocks at the base of the small waterfall. Quit is a word unknown to us and we backtracked to the previous stream crossing where a bridge was intact recrossed it and proceeded to bushwhack on that side of the stream thereby avoid the crossing at the swinging bridge. This added a mile and a half to our extended trip. Above the swinging bridge a few inches of snow were encountered by the time we reached the hight of land the snow was waist deep. At about four pm even we understood this plan is not going to work. Marshall 1 46R wannabees 0
Day 2
In early June my son and daughter were enlisted to join me for a second attemp, Bob found some insignificant reason to back out. This time we made it to the Herbert Brook Herd path but not without incident. From a point before Flowed Lands my son and daughter began the sibling ritual that began as simple competing for position on the trail. By Flowed Lands it had escallated into baiting each other finally disintegrating into full blown bickering until my daughter announced at Herbert Brook her feet hurt, she could not walk. Well dad had enough by this time and the retreat began. Interestingly enough my daughter seemed to have undergone a complete restoration and no one could keep up with her on the way out. Marshall 2- 46R wannabees 0
Day 3
Later that same month my son joined Bob and I for yet another attempt. This time we followed the herd path ending up on a densely wooded summit below a long ridge. Rather than retrace our steps we thrashed through the thickets losing considerable elevation until we finally reached the slide above Herbert Brook. Upon the dawning of where we were it was understood without much of a discussion we were out of time. Again we headed down and the words uttered months earlier by Grace Hudowalski came crashing back. "When following the herd path remember not to lose sight of the stream. There are many paths all wander, the true one stays with the brook." I thought we won't mention this to Grace. Marshall 3- 46R wannabees 0
Day 4
Sometimes mountains will act this way to see if you are serious about summiting. We were and determined this was the time to begin the next phase, backpacking. In August of the same year our passion resumed. It was determined to camp at Flowed Lands and day hike the mountain from there. If we didn't make it we would try again the next day. In our warped way of thinking each attempt brought us closer to the summit, therefore this time we should make it. Especially as we had the herd path figured out. On the herd path along Herbert Brook it began to sprinkle upon reaching the slide it turned into a light but steady rain. Near the top of the slide it was a downpour. I stopped, looked at my watch. Bob looked forelorn as he stared down the slope saying "Oh well another day." The water continued to come down in waves as we turned to descend. My son ten years old at the time started to go toward the summit. He called back saying "we are at the top of the slide and I will either reach the summit or drown." I looked at Bob nodded and followed my son. Within minutes I could hear the clanging of the cannister lid. No kodachrome minutes here the view consisted of three drowned rats holding onto a grey metal cannister. It took very little time to sign the register, close the lid and make tracks as fast as we could for that lean-to.
Like I said most of us have one of these stroies.