Neil
11-09-2005, 02:28 PM
This peak reminded me that it’s one thing to talk about doing the Hundred Highest and another thing all together to actually go out and do all one hundred of them, one at a time..
I pulled into the summer parking lot on Coreys road next to Doug (Hillman1’s) blue Subaru(?) last night at 11:00. Doug jumped into my warm car and we programmed his gps for the morrow’s hike. After perusing an amazing map he picked up at army surplus we agreed on a 5:30 wake up time and hit the sack. It rained all night long and in a vehicle you sure hear it. Luckily, the rain changed into a light drizzle for our departure at 6:30 and with pack covers securely on and headlamps showing the way we crushed the trail. When you’re fresh and goal oriented and shooting the breeze the miles slip away like beer at a gathering and in the blink of an eye we were at Calkins. Another couple of blinks for the BB and Ward Brook LT’s and then were at the double LT’s of camp 4. Precisely .66 miles later we entered the bush and began the 1 mile ascent of ST5. 1 mile doesn’t sound like much does it? It took us 3 hours to cover compared to 2 ½ for the 6 or 7 miles of trail so I guess it was a little further effort wise. In fact, the climb was downright tough. The balsams were growing close together under the birches and were plastered with snow that was fully saturated with cool, refreshing water. Not only that but it was all uphill! We encountered curtains (or walls) that continuously showered us with gobs of hypothermia-inducing white matter. Looking upslope all I could see was more of the same for as far as my eye could see. As long as we climbed strenuously we kept warm. Actually, my hands were freezing so I put on a dry pair of wool gloves and a pair of bullet-proof gore-tex mitts. This was pure heaven until I realized that water from my saturated jacket was trickling down into the mitts. Putting the sleeves outside the mitts was a help but the gloves were soaked anyway. Next time I bushwhack in conditions like that I’m wearing a raincoat, which is what I did for the descent. Big huge improvement! .
In spite of these physiological and psychological stresses, we were entranced by the rare and rugged beauty that surrounded us on all sides. There were no panoramic views but the in-your–face(literally) ones buoyed our spirits all the way to the top. At one point we got hit with a blast of sunshine for about 45 seconds. I think it made my day.
We lingered long enough on the summit to enter into the initial phases of hypothermia then got the hell out of there almost running back down to get the heat flowing. We followed our tracks for a while until losing them then followed a reciprocal bearing down the mountain. We used the compass a lot more than the gps. Looking at the picture I’ve added you’ll see how Doug used his brain power and “enabled” the unit to better find the satellites. The going down was tricky due the ever-present hazard posed by the tibia and femur eating holes. The snow showers were more frequent because we were moving faster. Getting below the snow line was a relief. The sky had cleared somewhat and we got views of Seymour. It looked soooo big under its mantle of snow! We got back to the trail in two hours and right where we popped out there was a guy wearing the biggest pack I’ve ever seen on his way into the Cold River for 5 days of hunting. He said his pack weighed 87 pounds! At the camp 4 lean-to’s we rested, ate and put on what dry clothes we had. I had a down jacket stuffed into its built-in stuff sac in a plastic grocery bag and my pack had a pack cover but the thing still got wet!
The hike out seemed to take longer than on the way in earlier that day. It seemed to take so long to get to the Calkins junction that at one point I began to fantasize that we’d missed it and were about to pop out at the parking lot! No such luck and we finished at 5:30, 11 hours after leaving.
I pulled into the summer parking lot on Coreys road next to Doug (Hillman1’s) blue Subaru(?) last night at 11:00. Doug jumped into my warm car and we programmed his gps for the morrow’s hike. After perusing an amazing map he picked up at army surplus we agreed on a 5:30 wake up time and hit the sack. It rained all night long and in a vehicle you sure hear it. Luckily, the rain changed into a light drizzle for our departure at 6:30 and with pack covers securely on and headlamps showing the way we crushed the trail. When you’re fresh and goal oriented and shooting the breeze the miles slip away like beer at a gathering and in the blink of an eye we were at Calkins. Another couple of blinks for the BB and Ward Brook LT’s and then were at the double LT’s of camp 4. Precisely .66 miles later we entered the bush and began the 1 mile ascent of ST5. 1 mile doesn’t sound like much does it? It took us 3 hours to cover compared to 2 ½ for the 6 or 7 miles of trail so I guess it was a little further effort wise. In fact, the climb was downright tough. The balsams were growing close together under the birches and were plastered with snow that was fully saturated with cool, refreshing water. Not only that but it was all uphill! We encountered curtains (or walls) that continuously showered us with gobs of hypothermia-inducing white matter. Looking upslope all I could see was more of the same for as far as my eye could see. As long as we climbed strenuously we kept warm. Actually, my hands were freezing so I put on a dry pair of wool gloves and a pair of bullet-proof gore-tex mitts. This was pure heaven until I realized that water from my saturated jacket was trickling down into the mitts. Putting the sleeves outside the mitts was a help but the gloves were soaked anyway. Next time I bushwhack in conditions like that I’m wearing a raincoat, which is what I did for the descent. Big huge improvement! .
In spite of these physiological and psychological stresses, we were entranced by the rare and rugged beauty that surrounded us on all sides. There were no panoramic views but the in-your–face(literally) ones buoyed our spirits all the way to the top. At one point we got hit with a blast of sunshine for about 45 seconds. I think it made my day.
We lingered long enough on the summit to enter into the initial phases of hypothermia then got the hell out of there almost running back down to get the heat flowing. We followed our tracks for a while until losing them then followed a reciprocal bearing down the mountain. We used the compass a lot more than the gps. Looking at the picture I’ve added you’ll see how Doug used his brain power and “enabled” the unit to better find the satellites. The going down was tricky due the ever-present hazard posed by the tibia and femur eating holes. The snow showers were more frequent because we were moving faster. Getting below the snow line was a relief. The sky had cleared somewhat and we got views of Seymour. It looked soooo big under its mantle of snow! We got back to the trail in two hours and right where we popped out there was a guy wearing the biggest pack I’ve ever seen on his way into the Cold River for 5 days of hunting. He said his pack weighed 87 pounds! At the camp 4 lean-to’s we rested, ate and put on what dry clothes we had. I had a down jacket stuffed into its built-in stuff sac in a plastic grocery bag and my pack had a pack cover but the thing still got wet!
The hike out seemed to take longer than on the way in earlier that day. It seemed to take so long to get to the Calkins junction that at one point I began to fantasize that we’d missed it and were about to pop out at the parking lot! No such luck and we finished at 5:30, 11 hours after leaving.