mountainmeijin
03-13-2007, 11:28 PM
My work schedule is changing so it looked like this would be my last free tuesday afternoon for a while. I decided to capitalize on it and tag Fir. What an odyssey that turned out to be...
I was in a hurry to get to the trail, since this would be a relatively long hike for starting so late in the day, even with daylight savings time in effect. I got to the Biscuit Brook trailhead by around 1:20 pm and discovered two things that my haste now cause me to lack...snow pants and snow shoes.
Me, being the brilliant guy that I am, decided that there must be a well-packed trail up Fir by now and since it was a warm day, the slacks that I was wearing would suffice if I didn't slide too much. At the register box, however, I discovered that only one person had signed in for Fir since the Valentine's Day snowstorm. Ok....well I was there, I might as well go ahead with the plan anyway. The marked trail was very well packed and by 2:20 I was passing the lean-to. I noted the spot where the previous hiker up Fir had turned off and saw that there was hardly and packed snow at all. The tracks were so faint as to be nearly invisible. Well, it couldn't hurt to try right?
Yes it could. The whole route up was a postholling hell and my stubbornness compelled me onward. I was sinking in at least above my ankles with every step, and often to my knees. So much snow entered my boots as to overpower any foot warmer. When I stopped to rest I noted that my feet actually felt warmer if I took my soaked boots off them kept them on. Trudging upward my pace slowed to a crawl...literally in some steeper spots to keep from breaking through so much. My socks had frozen to my boot liners, and my feet had become so numb by the time I crossed the 3500 foot level that my boots, liners and socks would occasionally come off my feet during a severe posthole and I would hike on a distance further, not noticing that I was barefoot. :eek:
As close as I was to the top, I decided to push for the summit, but the wide, flat summit of Fir was torturous, since I was expecting to reach the top after every rise. I dropped pack to make myself lighter...not that that helped much. Finally I found myself on a level area with several small mounds surrounding on many sides, and no further distinct general rise. However, by this time I was concerned about not just frostbite but hypothermia, since I had strung my jacket through the loops of my backpack earlier in the hike, not noticing how much it was dragging in the snow. The jacket was now cold and soaking wet. :banghead:
I decided that enough was enough and concluded that since one of the little rises nearby must be the top, I was high enough and not about to torture myself bumbling around the whole summit looking for the canister. My socks had frozen stiff and were actually making it more difficult to keep my boots on. It seemed that I lost one every dozen steps or so. If the 3500 club wants to reject me as a member because of 10 missing feet of elevation on Fir Mountain, that's their privilege. I'm counting Fir as done for now. I may eventually return to make it official, just for my own satisfaction.
I got back to my car by 9:20 PM, descending quickly but trying my hardest to step back into the holes that I made on the way up. I must say that I've found that I like hiking at night...I just wish my nighttime finished were'nt always the result of some spectacular screw-up.
Bottom line: Hike with discretion...unlike me. If you find you've forgotten some crucial piece of equipment for a hike, just swallow your pride and go home. I was fortunate enough to get down intact, but if I hadn't mustered my strength, things could have gone much worse.
I was in a hurry to get to the trail, since this would be a relatively long hike for starting so late in the day, even with daylight savings time in effect. I got to the Biscuit Brook trailhead by around 1:20 pm and discovered two things that my haste now cause me to lack...snow pants and snow shoes.
Me, being the brilliant guy that I am, decided that there must be a well-packed trail up Fir by now and since it was a warm day, the slacks that I was wearing would suffice if I didn't slide too much. At the register box, however, I discovered that only one person had signed in for Fir since the Valentine's Day snowstorm. Ok....well I was there, I might as well go ahead with the plan anyway. The marked trail was very well packed and by 2:20 I was passing the lean-to. I noted the spot where the previous hiker up Fir had turned off and saw that there was hardly and packed snow at all. The tracks were so faint as to be nearly invisible. Well, it couldn't hurt to try right?
Yes it could. The whole route up was a postholling hell and my stubbornness compelled me onward. I was sinking in at least above my ankles with every step, and often to my knees. So much snow entered my boots as to overpower any foot warmer. When I stopped to rest I noted that my feet actually felt warmer if I took my soaked boots off them kept them on. Trudging upward my pace slowed to a crawl...literally in some steeper spots to keep from breaking through so much. My socks had frozen to my boot liners, and my feet had become so numb by the time I crossed the 3500 foot level that my boots, liners and socks would occasionally come off my feet during a severe posthole and I would hike on a distance further, not noticing that I was barefoot. :eek:
As close as I was to the top, I decided to push for the summit, but the wide, flat summit of Fir was torturous, since I was expecting to reach the top after every rise. I dropped pack to make myself lighter...not that that helped much. Finally I found myself on a level area with several small mounds surrounding on many sides, and no further distinct general rise. However, by this time I was concerned about not just frostbite but hypothermia, since I had strung my jacket through the loops of my backpack earlier in the hike, not noticing how much it was dragging in the snow. The jacket was now cold and soaking wet. :banghead:
I decided that enough was enough and concluded that since one of the little rises nearby must be the top, I was high enough and not about to torture myself bumbling around the whole summit looking for the canister. My socks had frozen stiff and were actually making it more difficult to keep my boots on. It seemed that I lost one every dozen steps or so. If the 3500 club wants to reject me as a member because of 10 missing feet of elevation on Fir Mountain, that's their privilege. I'm counting Fir as done for now. I may eventually return to make it official, just for my own satisfaction.
I got back to my car by 9:20 PM, descending quickly but trying my hardest to step back into the holes that I made on the way up. I must say that I've found that I like hiking at night...I just wish my nighttime finished were'nt always the result of some spectacular screw-up.
Bottom line: Hike with discretion...unlike me. If you find you've forgotten some crucial piece of equipment for a hike, just swallow your pride and go home. I was fortunate enough to get down intact, but if I hadn't mustered my strength, things could have gone much worse.