cantdog
01-02-2006, 04:47 PM
Tuesday, 12/27 was supposed to be a trip to Nippletop & Dial, but Harry K called me at The Hostel and told me there was a change in plans due to his previous weekend's goals not being met. Yes, he did give me permission to mention him in my report and he plans to finish on Friday.
The revised plan was Haystack & Basin with a Saddleback option, time permitting. Knowing it was a very ambitious agenda, I agreed to it since I needed them also. We reached the Garden in the dark and I signed us in at 6:20. Jean et Natalie were to be in the neighborhood later in the day was what I was told.
We started out making good time and using our headlamps until @7:00. The snow was packed, but it did not completely cover all the rocks. Still we were making good time. We stopped for food and water at the famous John's Brook Lodge. It looked like a closed hut. I was a little confused because I thought it was open year round and it was where Tom Rankin had booked us in March. Harry said that place was across the stream. Before our rest stop, Harry checked a second register and commented on the recent activities of a few others. He had been in the area a few days prior and warned me of the numerous blowdowns awaiting us. Sure enough, he was right. Over, under and around was the usual routine, but not necessarily in that order. I got tired of that really fast.
We stopped at Slant Rock and discussed the weather and gear. Shortly after that, we ascended a rather steep trail to the next junction. My MSR snowshoes did well at digging in as they would for the rest of my vacation. However, I had yet to try the high heel option for fear of not getting the device back in the original position. This would have been a perfect venue for trying it out. Since I have worked out my issue with the other ends of the bindings coming undone, I have been more than completely satisfied. My apologies to MSR for the insult.
Still making decent time, we arrived at the last intersection before heading straight on to Haystack. We switched to crampons and put on extra above treeline apparel. Once we came out of the trees, it was a rock scramble in some nasty wind. I have been to the summit of Mt. Washington in the winter and that was nothing compared to what we were about to endure. While scrambling, the wind felt so severe that I thought I was going to be pushed over and swept over the edge. This was a near religious experience and I freaked out. Harry offered to turn back. I replied by saying that I didn't want to deny him this one nor did I want to have to come back myself. I asked how reasonable it was to safely do it. He said it was still reasonable and led the way. My first time on the summit of Mansfield, I could hardly stand up because the wind was so strong. However, it was not winter and I was not near a precarious edge. This was hell. On top of it all, there were a series of false peaks, one having a big drop in between the next one. The next one was always in the clouds, so I was always faked out.
Finally, we made it under a fairly blue sky. It was sensational. Victory! However, the cloud mass was swirling around at our level and below. This condition denied us a view of Marcy, but Harry did point out the Dixes and some other nearby peaks. He even got out the camera and took a little more time than I wanted while we were there. The wind was mostly at our backs on the way up, so we were able to skip the face protection, but not on the way down. Amazingly, despite the vicious wind, I was never cold as we kept moving. Coming down to the junction was much easier and no sooner did we get there. At that point, we looked at the time and acknowledged that Saddleback would not be likely. That was ok with me for a two peak day would be good enough. I always pictured Haystack a toughie and it was finally mine!
Harry wanted to continue with crampons forward to Basin, but I disagreed. Good thing I did. That trail was miserable hell. Harry led the way in his 30" snowshoes and I postholed with my MSRs just about every 3-5 steps. We passed the Shorey Shortcut and he said that would be our way down. Supposedly, a Miss Margaret and friends broke most of it out from the bottom. More on that later. We moved on to Basin.
Basin was a tough one. The trail there was unbroken and very steep in places. There was even a ladder. This was my second freakout of the day. After making it up the ladder, I had one hell of a time negotiating the steep grade just above it. There was no place to step aside and switch to crampons nor did I have my axe. I panicked in despair at the thought of falling over backwards to my death or freezing to death as a result. Nonetheless, I plugged on because it was the only choice. When we reached the summit of Basin, Harry had to do the camera ritual again. He explained the history of his most recent cameras, fiddled with settings, parts and accessories while I stood there freezing in the wind. I was rapidly losing patience with his sacred camera habits. I had fantasies of chucking the camera from the summit into the forest below, but I refrained from doing so. The one good thing about this winter hike was that we saw no one until much later that evening. This saved me from Harry's usual modus operandi of interviewing fellow hikers to the finest detail. A view of Marcy was finally available and I guess I could not begrudge Harry the picture.
When we left, we had decided that Saddleback was not to happen and that was fine with me. I knew we would be finishing in the dark, but little did I know we would be in the dark for 4-5 hours. We slid down much of the steep stuff and returned to Shorey's Shortcut.
Harry continued to lead the way and broke trail until it got so dark, he got out his headlamp. I spent quite a bit of time following him without using mine. Then he got too far ahead of me that I had to turn mine on. About 3/4 of the way to Slant Rock, he found the broken tracks of the Miss Margaret group. We stopped in at Slant Rock for some food and water. I was purposely dehydrating myself because I hate taking my pants off in the cold weather, but thirst overruled me.
In darkness, we looked at our watches and the junction signs. We estimated that we would be back at the Garden @9:00 and marhced our way out of there, over, under and around the Bushnell Blowdowns. Other than that, the terrain was rather level and uneventful.
The first people we saw all day were at a lean to on the right. Harry, who was ahead of me, stopped to talk to them. Knowing he could and would catch up, I just moved on. Nothing against these stangers, but I was in no mood to socialize. I moved right along until I came to a frozen stram crossing that I did not want to cross alone. He soon joined me and on we moved. After that second register, he used one of those, "it's really going to bite us in the ass," phrases to describe two uphill ascents that awaited us.
At 9:20, we were back at the garden and he insisted that I sign us out as I signed us in. Jean et Natalie signed in later that morning, but we never saw them. After 20+ miles and 15 hours, calling it a day was well overdue. There was a note on Harry's car that they got held up in customs for 45 minutes and they turned back on Haystack because of the wind. We returned to The Hostel during a fire department alarm. The owner said the alarm were were hearing was indicative of a search and rescue and they were glad we were not the searched.
All was well once I hung up my wet gear, took a shower and got served dinner by the gracious hostel owners. Harry K opted for the long drive home that night and claimed the magic potion was Mountain Dew. Imagine that!
The revised plan was Haystack & Basin with a Saddleback option, time permitting. Knowing it was a very ambitious agenda, I agreed to it since I needed them also. We reached the Garden in the dark and I signed us in at 6:20. Jean et Natalie were to be in the neighborhood later in the day was what I was told.
We started out making good time and using our headlamps until @7:00. The snow was packed, but it did not completely cover all the rocks. Still we were making good time. We stopped for food and water at the famous John's Brook Lodge. It looked like a closed hut. I was a little confused because I thought it was open year round and it was where Tom Rankin had booked us in March. Harry said that place was across the stream. Before our rest stop, Harry checked a second register and commented on the recent activities of a few others. He had been in the area a few days prior and warned me of the numerous blowdowns awaiting us. Sure enough, he was right. Over, under and around was the usual routine, but not necessarily in that order. I got tired of that really fast.
We stopped at Slant Rock and discussed the weather and gear. Shortly after that, we ascended a rather steep trail to the next junction. My MSR snowshoes did well at digging in as they would for the rest of my vacation. However, I had yet to try the high heel option for fear of not getting the device back in the original position. This would have been a perfect venue for trying it out. Since I have worked out my issue with the other ends of the bindings coming undone, I have been more than completely satisfied. My apologies to MSR for the insult.
Still making decent time, we arrived at the last intersection before heading straight on to Haystack. We switched to crampons and put on extra above treeline apparel. Once we came out of the trees, it was a rock scramble in some nasty wind. I have been to the summit of Mt. Washington in the winter and that was nothing compared to what we were about to endure. While scrambling, the wind felt so severe that I thought I was going to be pushed over and swept over the edge. This was a near religious experience and I freaked out. Harry offered to turn back. I replied by saying that I didn't want to deny him this one nor did I want to have to come back myself. I asked how reasonable it was to safely do it. He said it was still reasonable and led the way. My first time on the summit of Mansfield, I could hardly stand up because the wind was so strong. However, it was not winter and I was not near a precarious edge. This was hell. On top of it all, there were a series of false peaks, one having a big drop in between the next one. The next one was always in the clouds, so I was always faked out.
Finally, we made it under a fairly blue sky. It was sensational. Victory! However, the cloud mass was swirling around at our level and below. This condition denied us a view of Marcy, but Harry did point out the Dixes and some other nearby peaks. He even got out the camera and took a little more time than I wanted while we were there. The wind was mostly at our backs on the way up, so we were able to skip the face protection, but not on the way down. Amazingly, despite the vicious wind, I was never cold as we kept moving. Coming down to the junction was much easier and no sooner did we get there. At that point, we looked at the time and acknowledged that Saddleback would not be likely. That was ok with me for a two peak day would be good enough. I always pictured Haystack a toughie and it was finally mine!
Harry wanted to continue with crampons forward to Basin, but I disagreed. Good thing I did. That trail was miserable hell. Harry led the way in his 30" snowshoes and I postholed with my MSRs just about every 3-5 steps. We passed the Shorey Shortcut and he said that would be our way down. Supposedly, a Miss Margaret and friends broke most of it out from the bottom. More on that later. We moved on to Basin.
Basin was a tough one. The trail there was unbroken and very steep in places. There was even a ladder. This was my second freakout of the day. After making it up the ladder, I had one hell of a time negotiating the steep grade just above it. There was no place to step aside and switch to crampons nor did I have my axe. I panicked in despair at the thought of falling over backwards to my death or freezing to death as a result. Nonetheless, I plugged on because it was the only choice. When we reached the summit of Basin, Harry had to do the camera ritual again. He explained the history of his most recent cameras, fiddled with settings, parts and accessories while I stood there freezing in the wind. I was rapidly losing patience with his sacred camera habits. I had fantasies of chucking the camera from the summit into the forest below, but I refrained from doing so. The one good thing about this winter hike was that we saw no one until much later that evening. This saved me from Harry's usual modus operandi of interviewing fellow hikers to the finest detail. A view of Marcy was finally available and I guess I could not begrudge Harry the picture.
When we left, we had decided that Saddleback was not to happen and that was fine with me. I knew we would be finishing in the dark, but little did I know we would be in the dark for 4-5 hours. We slid down much of the steep stuff and returned to Shorey's Shortcut.
Harry continued to lead the way and broke trail until it got so dark, he got out his headlamp. I spent quite a bit of time following him without using mine. Then he got too far ahead of me that I had to turn mine on. About 3/4 of the way to Slant Rock, he found the broken tracks of the Miss Margaret group. We stopped in at Slant Rock for some food and water. I was purposely dehydrating myself because I hate taking my pants off in the cold weather, but thirst overruled me.
In darkness, we looked at our watches and the junction signs. We estimated that we would be back at the Garden @9:00 and marhced our way out of there, over, under and around the Bushnell Blowdowns. Other than that, the terrain was rather level and uneventful.
The first people we saw all day were at a lean to on the right. Harry, who was ahead of me, stopped to talk to them. Knowing he could and would catch up, I just moved on. Nothing against these stangers, but I was in no mood to socialize. I moved right along until I came to a frozen stram crossing that I did not want to cross alone. He soon joined me and on we moved. After that second register, he used one of those, "it's really going to bite us in the ass," phrases to describe two uphill ascents that awaited us.
At 9:20, we were back at the garden and he insisted that I sign us out as I signed us in. Jean et Natalie signed in later that morning, but we never saw them. After 20+ miles and 15 hours, calling it a day was well overdue. There was a note on Harry's car that they got held up in customs for 45 minutes and they turned back on Haystack because of the wind. We returned to The Hostel during a fire department alarm. The owner said the alarm were were hearing was indicative of a search and rescue and they were glad we were not the searched.
All was well once I hung up my wet gear, took a shower and got served dinner by the gracious hostel owners. Harry K opted for the long drive home that night and claimed the magic potion was Mountain Dew. Imagine that!