tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84109618796813868122024-03-19T06:02:01.040-04:00Along the NET-CohosSection hiking from Long Island Sound to CanadaTeresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04628471774296555013noreply@blogger.comBlogger138125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410961879681386812.post-72594676545829421092022-02-08T12:59:00.007-05:002022-02-09T14:09:59.239-05:00Wildlife Encountered<p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgQoc6bENDFGq9XQzWJeagQN-zjeY0PQZwP8EKAO9_z1c53u9SGwUOcMPjqkWk71IMsMMaq7pmdPx8QGGCzVzsH8G-iRk0pk9QqT9plPmLn04Pg-zdhM-2wDb1ZTVgiOtN6b9IyJWC3L7HAXspMZJKgu9cQuFJlr6DgkLfY-manwDKCRGFjyGQtX6fg=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1600" height="365" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgQoc6bENDFGq9XQzWJeagQN-zjeY0PQZwP8EKAO9_z1c53u9SGwUOcMPjqkWk71IMsMMaq7pmdPx8QGGCzVzsH8G-iRk0pk9QqT9plPmLn04Pg-zdhM-2wDb1ZTVgiOtN6b9IyJWC3L7HAXspMZJKgu9cQuFJlr6DgkLfY-manwDKCRGFjyGQtX6fg=w400-h365" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moose on the Cohos Trail in "Moose Alley"</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I don't have the best photos, but if you're wondering what kind of wildlife you might encounter hiking the NET-Cohos route, this page is for you. <div><br /></div><div>Sometimes people are worried about wildlife being dangerous, but there isn't much to be concerned about in New England so long as backpackers follow good practices regarding their food and other scents that may attract bears. And respect moose, which are enormous and can run much faster than you. With the exception of a bear at my tent in Connecticut, I was more concerned about off-leash dogs guarding houses I had to walk past on isolated roads (look away and walk slowly and deliberately is my strategy). <div><br /></div><div><b>Moose:</b> Let's start with everyone's favorite, the iconic moose. If you're doing the trail northbound, the first area you might start seeing moose sign is near Lake Quabbin in central Massachusetts. The tracks and poo look like they came from a giant deer. Generally speaking, the further north you get, the more moose activity you'll see. I finally saw an actual moose on my penultimate day of hiking near the Canadian border in New Hampshire's "Moose Alley." He was sleeping near the trail and slowly rose to his feet when he saw me. We looked at each other for a moment and then he turned and slowly walked away. It was great. <br /><br />There were three other times I heard moose along the trail. One was camping on Mt. Sunapee (on the M-S Greenway), when I heard one speeding down the trail past my tent at night (the trail was plastered in poo and tracks). The second was up in Moose Alley when I heard a moose calling down in a swamp below. The last was in the White Mountains. While scouting for a place to hang my bear bag one evening, I came to an active 'moose scraping' about 100 feet from my tent. This is where bull moose in rut scrape the ground and leave their scent by peeing all over it. As soon as it got dark, I heard the moose over there stamping and scraping up a storm. I was a little nervous being in a flimsy tent so close to a rutting moose, but I've never heard of a moose attacking a tent. <div><br /></div><div>Other hikers on the Cohos have described moose encounters, including some chases! (Tip: always grant the right of way to a moose). <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjc_mPk2K26UR0VWBHO8WMcQZvF2CS1Z5GI7uYZkNIiEJ20nRgB5xT45S2xaclRc05-31ogHSDTDxsKVTpopiQKqmeDKToRWcTO20OvJzWjuh6B-ZIO02DS26jCAT4JviMqioREuO59_vDxZydkMej3hzT3rwAQPd9XAQLNpXORMAcVrNGnzymIiLLs=s1222" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="843" data-original-width="1222" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjc_mPk2K26UR0VWBHO8WMcQZvF2CS1Z5GI7uYZkNIiEJ20nRgB5xT45S2xaclRc05-31ogHSDTDxsKVTpopiQKqmeDKToRWcTO20OvJzWjuh6B-ZIO02DS26jCAT4JviMqioREuO59_vDxZydkMej3hzT3rwAQPd9XAQLNpXORMAcVrNGnzymIiLLs=w400-h276" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The bear I just chased away from my tent in <br />Connecticut's Bear Alley<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><b>Black Bear: </b>Connecticut now has a "Bear Alley" and I can almost guarantee that your tent will be visited by an overly tame bear looking for easy food if you're backpacking. This is in the northern part of the state along the New England Trail (Simsbury, Avon, Granby). The bear population has just exploded in Connecticut over the past few years, especially in the northwest and north central parts of the state. There's no bear hunting, and a lot of suburbanites are pretty careless about leaving food outside. The result is a lot of fearless bears going from house to house looking for food, and sometimes even breaking into homes and opening up freezers. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhZq3j638bQ9KCPZhvQVt_677LWjvvWoffIC4r29aSrBsiHstPWxKxAbqxLSfWO0acX2VVUOFSWs3FcZIU5juFOetpdkYV9q0-TrW8vFSi7jowJzL_SXoEX8RJBM1A7XujfjU8-iXB0cOfK1dfCgA8MpFs-KquZsenAXnyKKKGdM9KrsUzqAh-B52on=s1200" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="964" data-original-width="1200" height="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhZq3j638bQ9KCPZhvQVt_677LWjvvWoffIC4r29aSrBsiHstPWxKxAbqxLSfWO0acX2VVUOFSWs3FcZIU5juFOetpdkYV9q0-TrW8vFSi7jowJzL_SXoEX8RJBM1A7XujfjU8-iXB0cOfK1dfCgA8MpFs-KquZsenAXnyKKKGdM9KrsUzqAh-B52on=w200-h161" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">White-Footed Mouse on the NET</td></tr></tbody></table>I was focused on brushing wet pine needles off my tent one morning when I looked up and discovered a bear on the other side of my tent not 15 feet away. It was bewildering that such a large, jet black animal could sneak up without me seeing or hearing it. The tent was empty, and my food was still hanging in a tree nearby. The bear just seemed to be curious about the tent. He was not persuaded by my yelling at him. So I pulled the garbage bag liner out of my nearby pack and gave it a violent snap. He just about did a backflip, ran behind a tree, and stopped to peer back at me (above photo). Phew! Mostly these tame bears are like affable retrievers looking for cheeseburgers, but occasionally one can get dangerous. So you never know.</div><div><br /></div><div>Of course there are bears throughout the length of the trail, but not as many and not as tame as the ones in Connecticut's Bear Alley (Connecticut is the only state in the region without bear hunting). At any rate, it's always important to be prepared for bears if you're backpacking, but be especially vigilante in northern Connecticut. Be absolutely sure there are no interesting scents in your tent!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnXmvkB2dYdnJhfKgG5fWVmaknlYJkaZKcM8oIyN623pnGm2vDfFNQY2eTFcL_P2go6pzNFZ5ooLMArxlzsRSqODEyty6Qnw2C6lFy0waFpMZ3DbynLNemBhYGNWV61nxsMMsSzE-HlJXwQWrDfDKPr6wO8K4-8AdMDSwvGqU5nHE5eb3OmQxUW1Tv/s1778/0925210940a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1384" data-original-width="1778" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnXmvkB2dYdnJhfKgG5fWVmaknlYJkaZKcM8oIyN623pnGm2vDfFNQY2eTFcL_P2go6pzNFZ5ooLMArxlzsRSqODEyty6Qnw2C6lFy0waFpMZ3DbynLNemBhYGNWV61nxsMMsSzE-HlJXwQWrDfDKPr6wO8K4-8AdMDSwvGqU5nHE5eb3OmQxUW1Tv/w400-h311/0925210940a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Porcupine, Fauver East Trail, <br />Plymouth, NH ("Ghost Trail")</td></tr></tbody></table><b>Porcupine </b>are always a lot of fun to run into while hiking. They're absent from southern Connecticut, but always a possibility as you head north. They'll invariably wobble over to a tree and scramble up it, looking back down at you from time to time in annoyance. I only saw one during the entire trip. It was near Plymouth and it left behind some quills while hustling up a tree. Porcupine are a good reason to keep a dog leashed. I've personally had to deal with pulling out dozens of quills from my terrier's face after she cornered a porcupine under a large boulder in northern Connecticut, and it's not fun. <br /><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgZuapKrXWBuLiJJSTFs2nJRe-p2rC4NYE1NTJKJJ6_v4cSd9bwaRSgiESxfmH-GwilOvRC1pqwSw4cBqU8kZ0gxDPcwRy9SUQYXlwGCkPxd2b3aOu788ykv_5N-A0KeS0aoYu2UUXA0A2-J2xygl0rLensgJRfJlexxoy85Xk7mJXpOvuv-FK2EULQ=s4656" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4656" data-original-width="2620" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgZuapKrXWBuLiJJSTFs2nJRe-p2rC4NYE1NTJKJJ6_v4cSd9bwaRSgiESxfmH-GwilOvRC1pqwSw4cBqU8kZ0gxDPcwRy9SUQYXlwGCkPxd2b3aOu788ykv_5N-A0KeS0aoYu2UUXA0A2-J2xygl0rLensgJRfJlexxoy85Xk7mJXpOvuv-FK2EULQ=w225-h400" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Black Rat Snakes are typically<br />4-5 feet long, but harmless</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div><b>Snakes: </b>Several times I came across Black Rat Snakes sunning themselves on the trap rock ridges of the NET in Connecticut. Although they look pretty dramatic and are usually four or five feet long, they are super chill and nothing to fear. You can get really close to take a photo and they'll barely move. By far the most common snake along the entire trail is the harmless Garter Snake. I bet I saw dozens. Note that there's a slight chance of encountering a venomous copperhead along the traprock ridges, but it's very unlikely. In all the hiking I've done across Connecticut over several decades, I've only encountered a copperhead once. That said, a friend recently showed me a picture of a copperhead they saw at Mt. Higby along the NET. So you never know. Watch where you put your hands. </div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjF6_yCVmjsxcDrz6dTG2huIjLl7cuKPvsvJwU2w2QbuViRY1zfz6sMVi8pjSQos2_guJoGw_HyMsJQ-8uWITs6QXNzy6YA82wXIGXEbxpdbdArPpA-01Lkyyf7ZFMN160S7jxYu2II4dy7iBCJcZuQNU00dDmVU5rdjlBbUFyYh456lnR6PDYGbFmC=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1156" data-original-width="1600" height="289" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjF6_yCVmjsxcDrz6dTG2huIjLl7cuKPvsvJwU2w2QbuViRY1zfz6sMVi8pjSQos2_guJoGw_HyMsJQ-8uWITs6QXNzy6YA82wXIGXEbxpdbdArPpA-01Lkyyf7ZFMN160S7jxYu2II4dy7iBCJcZuQNU00dDmVU5rdjlBbUFyYh456lnR6PDYGbFmC=w400-h289" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spruce Grouse, Cohos Trail, Kilkenny section<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><b>Birds: </b>I'm going to skip over songbirds here except to note the adorable Canada Jay (aka Gray Jay) that befriended me at the Cabot Mountain cabin (actually I think it was trying to steal some food I was cooking up). The most memorable bird encounter I had was probably the Spruce Grouse that was also near the Mt Cabot cabin. It was delightfully tame and looked sort of like a Ruffed Grouse but with a bright red patch on its face (I had to look up the species ID later). We hung out together for five minutes or so. The Spruce Grouse is a northern species that mostly lives in Canada and Alaska. Other Cohos hikers have shared similar photos of tame Spruce Grouse in the same area, so you might see one. There are plenty of the more common Ruffed Grouse (aka partridge) along the NET-Cohos that will flush up noisily as you walk past and you might hear them drumming their wings as a mating call. You don't usually get a good look at them and they certainly don't pose for you like the Spruce Grouse. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgaYVdtKUXs5h7UYmwfZuaB_9JeTwOMn84vIg1dqOaOAdxaVtIbROhhaw4h2HhLC639N9Bzr2BVe_M-9HePji0udJFA8phWWa-yOSo6fZTgara7b2PlYY3KVQ9CMJwDyBw15YgLaPeujOarqJ2KvhzzYaaFWZjYasaGSqaiQkayvTdRFN7_86XHWeCS=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgaYVdtKUXs5h7UYmwfZuaB_9JeTwOMn84vIg1dqOaOAdxaVtIbROhhaw4h2HhLC639N9Bzr2BVe_M-9HePji0udJFA8phWWa-yOSo6fZTgara7b2PlYY3KVQ9CMJwDyBw15YgLaPeujOarqJ2KvhzzYaaFWZjYasaGSqaiQkayvTdRFN7_86XHWeCS=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Turkey are mostly seen from the road</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>Turkey are common along the route from end to end, but there seem to be a lot more of them after you leave the trap rock ridges behind. Northern Massachussetts to central New Hampshire seemed to have the most. I didn't see many turkey in the woods, but walking or driving along the roads there were often large flocks. The house we rented near Sunapee was visited by a flock of 35 turkey. I don't know why there were so many more turkey in these areas. Maybe a combination of plentiful oaks & beech along with possibly fewer coyote?</p><p>Ravens make some of the weirdest noises in the forest. I saw and heard plenty of raven especially near areas with cliffs. </p><p>I'll give a shout out to the Bald Eagle that swooped down and almost hit our windshield as we were headed up I-91 in Massachusetts for a weekend of hiking the trail. We missed the eagle by inches. Wow, they are big. The Connecticut River was nearby, and the eagle was probably hunting both the river and the highway. </p><p><b>Newts: </b>The Red Eft is a hiker favorite, often found on trails during wet weather. I had a day in New Hampshire where I walked over more than a hundred of these tiny amphibians. It was hard not to step on them. I didn't encounter any of these north of the White Mountains, or at the higher elevations, and there may be fewer along the dry trap rock ridges of Connecticut. The sweet spot seemed to be northern Massachusetts and southern New Hampshire. The Red Eft is interesting in that it's the terrestrial phase of the Eastern Spotted Newt. The aquatic stage looks completely different, being a drab olive color a flattened tail like a fish. Although the Red Eft stage is typically thought of as the adult stage, this newt can actually revert back to the 'juvenile' aquatic stage if conditions are favorable. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj8SHTAEPq7YKx8aGHVr8xt3ZYFpeFThv7-KY1iULaHnX5xr0RKt0g7mDQFIkwkORQEgBtiZYpzJ0j3WoJb1XsqRb4PG8sjnSw3v46lQtBN5cvI1jWIvk_06gMUBK9SKXgX3Zuu3RFfFmZkdA0FJ8H7FMvklzQnPOtDs2Y29qFVn9zMapddL4iNWMi_=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj8SHTAEPq7YKx8aGHVr8xt3ZYFpeFThv7-KY1iULaHnX5xr0RKt0g7mDQFIkwkORQEgBtiZYpzJ0j3WoJb1XsqRb4PG8sjnSw3v46lQtBN5cvI1jWIvk_06gMUBK9SKXgX3Zuu3RFfFmZkdA0FJ8H7FMvklzQnPOtDs2Y29qFVn9zMapddL4iNWMi_=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red Eft stage of the Eastern Spotted Newt</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Walking past a tiny mud puddle near the northern end of the NET in Massachusetts, I came upon a swarm of nineteen newts, presumably breeding. This was on an unmaintained dirt road that gets a lot of off-road vehicles. Just a puddle in the tire ruts. <br /><br /><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgJ7JZlmSbABsLgfFLOiyhHUG2Jn9HhLyEQtqVEOxFZgNoXLPBKMFkSwpjrgNYG9Utk1rcTQKX_MzCbpZDqr9YKFYqzZmwhhWouAHKyuTziO66iwL7eNahT9VBiutDlig_Uyl6BfCPV-V1QNRdBdrkMBw8XTEjkZkO0kxUEplUHGqEjy_ibK5yKn3aI=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1400" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgJ7JZlmSbABsLgfFLOiyhHUG2Jn9HhLyEQtqVEOxFZgNoXLPBKMFkSwpjrgNYG9Utk1rcTQKX_MzCbpZDqr9YKFYqzZmwhhWouAHKyuTziO66iwL7eNahT9VBiutDlig_Uyl6BfCPV-V1QNRdBdrkMBw8XTEjkZkO0kxUEplUHGqEjy_ibK5yKn3aI=w350-h400" width="350" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red Efts swarming in a mudhole</td></tr></tbody></table><p><b>Squirrels & Chipmunks: </b>I had a Red Squirrel jump on my leg. I was standing very still on the Crawford-Ridgepole Trail ("Ghost Trail" option) pondering something, when the squirrel came bounding up the trail. Jump-pause-jump-pause, getting closer and closer until it jumped right onto my leg. It quickly realized its mistake and scurried off. I could feel his little claw marks in my skin for half an hour. Hard to say which of us was more surprised. You'll see lots of Grey Squirrels and Red Squirrels along the NET-Cohos, the former in areas with a lot of oak trees (southern/lower elevations) and the latter in areas with spruce and pine (northern/higher elevations). Chipmunks are just everywhere, which you might not notice unless you're walking a leashed dog who hopes to catch every single one of them. </p><p><b>Fox: </b>I saw a Gray Fox at the base of Mt. Moosilauke. I've encountered many Red Fox in Connecticut (sometimes napping in my backyard), but never a Gray Fox. Red Fox are not originally from New England, but came down from open areas of the Arctic and have adapted really well to farms and suburbs. Gray Fox were the original (native) New England fox, but they need dense forests to thrive, like the forest on Moosilauke. So it was a treat to finally see one. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhDeprA987NfYVW9u0tiA1L-KbAruiLjaBwGo088WjG0N3XW-VlpRX3Mly_vdCo4cP33ZwO0F5X-Y5tDo-P5OHcddbAy3dQEHb3mV3HzneUBJZbOgJ54mfuXWE-INo-_Gxke405vbihdsYw69nkYTu9nhp_cOoZYNLTgKKPUnZaYGrAKVCkWb7OZLE3=s1038" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="839" data-original-width="1038" height="324" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhDeprA987NfYVW9u0tiA1L-KbAruiLjaBwGo088WjG0N3XW-VlpRX3Mly_vdCo4cP33ZwO0F5X-Y5tDo-P5OHcddbAy3dQEHb3mV3HzneUBJZbOgJ54mfuXWE-INo-_Gxke405vbihdsYw69nkYTu9nhp_cOoZYNLTgKKPUnZaYGrAKVCkWb7OZLE3=w400-h324" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Deer in Connecticut will freeze and watch you walk past</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><b>Deer:</b> There are a bazillion White Tailed Deer in Connecticut. There's an inverse relationship between moose and deer as you go north, so if you're in prime New Hampshire moose habitat, you probably aren't seeing many deer. But in Connecticut, which only rarely sees a moose passing through, there are so many deer that they cause a lot of damage to the forests. They will typically freeze as you walk past, not panic and jump through the forest like they do in areas that heavily hunted. Therefore there's a good chance of not noticing them while hiking unless you're really looking. Having said that, the NET does pass through areas open to hunting, so wear your orange if hiking in the fall. There are poachers who don't respect hunting seasons or property lines. On the nearby Shenipsit Trail one October, a poacher shot a backyard deer near the trail as I was approaching. The lung-shot deer ran a short ways and dropped right on the trail. It wasn't firearm season for deer yet, but I had my blaze orange hat on just in case and was glad for it. </div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEga-Ewz_6zy5aPkFT-G67RJkRk8MY50kCLkJIIGr0rT7mfxtiBo-yf9dZ1MhqDwMw4MyV-bHL2ryTqc7J0Bv03FgyMiy75lVVbok2iAWICVfPkT7nS3sCYJ40pClQ-wmg3EaG8glHsUJYxzztq9Klr5SffDVSWfeMFm28SiKU4qtqQi-E4CV73cfomi=s1052" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="766" data-original-width="1052" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEga-Ewz_6zy5aPkFT-G67RJkRk8MY50kCLkJIIGr0rT7mfxtiBo-yf9dZ1MhqDwMw4MyV-bHL2ryTqc7J0Bv03FgyMiy75lVVbok2iAWICVfPkT7nS3sCYJ40pClQ-wmg3EaG8glHsUJYxzztq9Klr5SffDVSWfeMFm28SiKU4qtqQi-E4CV73cfomi=w400-h291" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hermit Crab in Long Island Sound</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b>Long Island Sound:</b> The NET-Cohos route starts on Long Island Sound and there are all sorts of animals there. If the tide is low, you might find some little hermit crabs, or Green Crabs, or some other kind of crab. Mostly you find their shells on the shore along with shells of Quahog clams, mussels, slipper, boat shells, and snails. Terns, seagulls, and the smell of the ocean. Even if you're eager to get started, hold off for a bit and enjoy this place. </div><div><p></p></div></div></div>Teresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04628471774296555013noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410961879681386812.post-58975589589042173932022-01-26T16:57:00.002-05:002022-01-26T16:57:46.520-05:00The Working Landscape<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgn0bje8lU3Qxzf6Zlxb5rbszqts_4oxPU6Neqc62mNDl-8YSld4i7uF78AJhzjTD6jlpfTw5pSZqZB2qrbzX8AM8OvUcbZpHgDEaQpxc92cpo53xmOyo211rFyg-1eDKKFROrA1fH8BwnyYD9J-xU7NN0Ii04Z9NH-rLErKAxGuCVIs3k-2l5ArMwa=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgn0bje8lU3Qxzf6Zlxb5rbszqts_4oxPU6Neqc62mNDl-8YSld4i7uF78AJhzjTD6jlpfTw5pSZqZB2qrbzX8AM8OvUcbZpHgDEaQpxc92cpo53xmOyo211rFyg-1eDKKFROrA1fH8BwnyYD9J-xU7NN0Ii04Z9NH-rLErKAxGuCVIs3k-2l5ArMwa=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Guilford Train Station: <br />The NET uses the covered walkway to cross the commuter line</td></tr></tbody></table>If you're going to hike across New England all the way from Long Island Sound to Canada, it helps to have an appreciation of the working landscape. Because of course you're not walking across a vast pristine wilderness. Millions of people live and work here, and people have been managing the landscape for thousands of years. <div><br /></div><div>The four-mile road walk from Long Island Sound in Guilford sets a nice baseline. Here is Southern New England, land of busy commuters. Shortly after leaving the shoreline behind, the blue blazes of the New England Trail lead you inside the Guilford Train Station and up some stairs in order to cross over the commuter line railroad tracks. Hop on a train here, and you can be at Grand Central Station in Manhattan in an hour or so. The trail then takes you past houses and stores and museums to cross Route 1 (the famous colonial "Post Road" between New York City and Boston) and over I-95. A whole lot of infrastructure to get people from houses to jobs. Watch the cars zipping by and be happy you're hiking and not commuting to work. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgzVtKbW-6m8fUcWAnHE_gwJeLO-dvNzJe8EOoOKJRytQnqASMOIhL4ZGZNn5S11yfq8qcPmO53rwVo-fKh6AWchZsqV_YhIXOcITPO9wFxLUUG_FdW-rI2UdFvob9GOedYIlqhQoKixaH9ayQWU6Hxx3ch9tRbaVjkGiGxIlW8w10nSc8o5EOVEYQe=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgzVtKbW-6m8fUcWAnHE_gwJeLO-dvNzJe8EOoOKJRytQnqASMOIhL4ZGZNn5S11yfq8qcPmO53rwVo-fKh6AWchZsqV_YhIXOcITPO9wFxLUUG_FdW-rI2UdFvob9GOedYIlqhQoKixaH9ayQWU6Hxx3ch9tRbaVjkGiGxIlW8w10nSc8o5EOVEYQe=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trap rock ridges absorb water for drinking water reservoirs<br />(Trimountain and Ulbrich Reservoir)</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Through most of Connecticut and the southern half of Massachusetts, the New England Trail follows the Metacomet Ridge, which is all trap rock. This ridgetop hosts a narrow ribbon of green cutting through the suburban sprawl. The main reason it's green, and not a bunch of McMansions with views, is because people long ago realized how effective the trap rock ridges were at collecting and filtering drinking water. Water drains right through the hard basalt (surprisingly) and is collected in reservoirs maintained at the base of the ridge. The MDC lands? That's Hartford's water supply. The porous nature of the rock is also why finding water is one of the biggest challenges of backpacking the New England Trail - there's rarely any water up there on the ridge. At any rate, you're not walking through some nature preserve per se. You're walking across a drinking water collection and filtering system for all those homes in the valley below.<br /><div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhA59pbpLxFFp0rab44r4zi-ih78b5jRG9koKV-SOqLEk9HdMKrXxMTTZnU7GaPWURAVYsjVTaurAU5FaRI2g4jXqdFm4uaXHBphidbEXmfVvISGJzoEw6d2zXzb-o2kmc0RkS0pQy52eEK81BYJxHs-9vDHE2xIMJZx8rOObMXDEW4OKXwkEp0fzXV=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhA59pbpLxFFp0rab44r4zi-ih78b5jRG9koKV-SOqLEk9HdMKrXxMTTZnU7GaPWURAVYsjVTaurAU5FaRI2g4jXqdFm4uaXHBphidbEXmfVvISGJzoEw6d2zXzb-o2kmc0RkS0pQy52eEK81BYJxHs-9vDHE2xIMJZx8rOObMXDEW4OKXwkEp0fzXV=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tilcon Quarry at Mt. Chauncey</td></tr></tbody></table>You can't escape the massive trap rock quarries while hiking the New England Trail. They become landmarks. The hard but brittle trap rock is crushed and used in construction. If you're hiking during the week, you might be able to watch the operation in progress. Giant trucks that look like ants down below. Are the quarries ugly scars upon the landscape, or impressive examples of human ingenuity? Maybe a little of both.</div><div><br /></div><div>Cell phone and radio towers are another common occurrence along the trap rock ridges. That's why there's always a really good cell phone signal up on the trap rock. Go ahead ... call up an Uber to the nearest hotel for the night.<br /><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhCwZ78U7BdOTUuHb6XMIGKcrNeUHC2X-VW4qyG4NHeXgO6TtbPQ6YdLn4MmKPddWrM_Xze5Iv8vcqjSLkyAvqslfBGQ2cRbulWQWQQ4-KLHvXWpC3GKGhfwdTz7YHrsLNH1K2nNikXJvE6elL9-NjYXTa_YWWmdJmY7z5YQDhHdiqN7xYYHvArEfZv=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhCwZ78U7BdOTUuHb6XMIGKcrNeUHC2X-VW4qyG4NHeXgO6TtbPQ6YdLn4MmKPddWrM_Xze5Iv8vcqjSLkyAvqslfBGQ2cRbulWQWQQ4-KLHvXWpC3GKGhfwdTz7YHrsLNH1K2nNikXJvE6elL9-NjYXTa_YWWmdJmY7z5YQDhHdiqN7xYYHvArEfZv=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rich farmland along the Connecticut River in Massachusetts</td></tr></tbody></table>Moving north along the NET, there are scattered farms down below. Some of the richest farmland seems to be in the Connecticut River Valley. The old M-M Trail used to go through the middle of a cornfield after crossing the river, but that section was sadly closed after the trail gained federal status as the New England Trail. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhaJFMl5fbvmFo1j0m6-NOesTlWyYVzNNHMHxdq0F_nP8NR4Hm-OsCADVp1RS-rvGzJBkQk7PVs3HLH7LAKmuxVlrSiWTF3H0AwmxvDorVSwais6KFc4yl9HHVcyQ911LEhcwDgbXHum6mtM5KKynP3mrWEYRH99Yu4RTUqm-Ksovfge-tZZpPc9mPW=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhaJFMl5fbvmFo1j0m6-NOesTlWyYVzNNHMHxdq0F_nP8NR4Hm-OsCADVp1RS-rvGzJBkQk7PVs3HLH7LAKmuxVlrSiWTF3H0AwmxvDorVSwais6KFc4yl9HHVcyQ911LEhcwDgbXHum6mtM5KKynP3mrWEYRH99Yu4RTUqm-Ksovfge-tZZpPc9mPW=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ski facilities at Ragged Mountain in New Hampshire</td></tr></tbody></table>Outdoor recreation becomes more economically important as you head north into New Hampshire, and you're going to share the forest with other types of users. There are several ski slopes, including the ones at Mt. Sunapee, Ragged Mountain, and Dixville Notch in New Hampshire. This is one of those winter activities that tends not to impact seasonal hikers very much, and you get some nice views where they've cleared out the trees. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgSELcy7o4B6b7ZBHMgH13WQQPNtqtkXFAtFI0oiRZQtGb_iaXjI3ioBle1gwLlmxGWYgKFARVY2uhrmfqxRryBWktVWVaDt0Z84QkqyUXUBz65w9E8qfAF5ROt2hn1s6aS3N2J_7P_Jj-s5n_N8Pc1VtTW2gbP_8slpPYB5dDOExXmDbnDeS3lkkwz=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgSELcy7o4B6b7ZBHMgH13WQQPNtqtkXFAtFI0oiRZQtGb_iaXjI3ioBle1gwLlmxGWYgKFARVY2uhrmfqxRryBWktVWVaDt0Z84QkqyUXUBz65w9E8qfAF5ROt2hn1s6aS3N2J_7P_Jj-s5n_N8Pc1VtTW2gbP_8slpPYB5dDOExXmDbnDeS3lkkwz=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Following snowmobile trail 5N through the New Hampshire gap<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Snowmobiling is another form of income-generating recreation for New Hampshire, and there are miles of official snowmobile trails crossing the state. The NET-Cohos route through New Hampshire often follows a snowmobile trail. For the most part, snowmobilers and hikers are on the trail in different seasons and there's no conflict. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjJTdp9s5x9XFMWkvEtu2q7ZyHEMDtD2bL_PI1eHC9qKdDSaUkNqYrgq-syh0ZYXqq-JYBm6ksZRYrflmuKwQjh50ohsHuKS5mHMpIot6OjWFFmgsRftLcFJ8OAT7Jjm0LQ1SmjzVv1HTcBcjJMnigOVw8aJPWMEXQV7TWeqOtLRtZThIoAmnerhd1B=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="952" data-original-width="1600" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjJTdp9s5x9XFMWkvEtu2q7ZyHEMDtD2bL_PI1eHC9qKdDSaUkNqYrgq-syh0ZYXqq-JYBm6ksZRYrflmuKwQjh50ohsHuKS5mHMpIot6OjWFFmgsRftLcFJ8OAT7Jjm0LQ1SmjzVv1HTcBcjJMnigOVw8aJPWMEXQV7TWeqOtLRtZThIoAmnerhd1B=w400-h238" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Deer & Turkey registration station<br />Mt. Sunapee<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Hunting and fishing are another type of recreation you might run into along the trail. In some cases, the trail might cross sportsman club land with permission, as the New England Trail does in Guilford, or the SRK Greenway does on Ragged Mountain. Don't be surprised if you hear gunfire there, or at some of the shooting ranges nearby. Most hunting takes place in late fall when the leaves are brown, but there are different seasons for different types of hunting, and I start wearing blaze orange once the leaves start turning. I had a group of guys hunting bear pass me at one point on the M-M Trail in New Hampshire. There's no bear hunting in Connecticut, which explains why that one bear was so relaxed while checking out my empty tent in Simsbury. There's deer hunting in Connecticut, though, and I once had a backyard poacher shoot a deer near me while backpacking before firearm season had started. The lung-shot deer fled maybe 100 yards through the state forest and dropped beside the trail just before I got to it. I was never so happy to be wearing blaze orange. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjZDOQsgq65Us1AqELw4cfw7AD8dBv48lZWZoazVybbaZ4ZsBky7p9hkheAQsjIthCtX-FlhmH9Mf4W8yad6_t5siuaYtori7Ih7HhdBxD3md-8Kj2aDOtBaQpLyYJxKP4TW--7TMLxU8KBQN9nptsICYYCL-4FQn9PAIQyhlBBx1m46fuBQlZRO6lS=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1064" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjZDOQsgq65Us1AqELw4cfw7AD8dBv48lZWZoazVybbaZ4ZsBky7p9hkheAQsjIthCtX-FlhmH9Mf4W8yad6_t5siuaYtori7Ih7HhdBxD3md-8Kj2aDOtBaQpLyYJxKP4TW--7TMLxU8KBQN9nptsICYYCL-4FQn9PAIQyhlBBx1m46fuBQlZRO6lS=w400-h266" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Active logging, with windmill on the horizon<br />Cohos Trail at Kelsey Notch</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Windmills capture the wind's energy along some of New Hampshire's ridges. There aren't very many, so they've never bothered me. If they were all over that might be different. A section of the Cohos Trail passes so close to one that the sound of the blades cutting through the wind was audible. </div><div><br /></div><div>Logging is a major industry, of course. You don't see much logging along the NET because the traprock ridgeline is usually part of a drinking watershed or park. But there's lots of active timber management as you pass through the northern forests. More interesting might be the remnants of earlier logging, especially the old logging railroads and network of fire towers. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgCXASA9-i20D-Fj0SJuz3dx3EJxdlsUR02_lKQGYN8tx2rCPPQ8nEO5fzdANroj8OmhEZBjUK_0dDqSt0KM6MdxPlypzkXhMzZ185-qUf_3c1Gvj1nLccdyMESXWDgNS2pFZruFIfqDU7bxMN53DnEW3-HVm5nv8u5qn5s8cmbNkV6mB179tsDVnv2=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgCXASA9-i20D-Fj0SJuz3dx3EJxdlsUR02_lKQGYN8tx2rCPPQ8nEO5fzdANroj8OmhEZBjUK_0dDqSt0KM6MdxPlypzkXhMzZ185-qUf_3c1Gvj1nLccdyMESXWDgNS2pFZruFIfqDU7bxMN53DnEW3-HVm5nv8u5qn5s8cmbNkV6mB179tsDVnv2=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smarts Mountain Fire Tower<br />Appalachian Trail<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>The old fire towers are often still standing and are now scenic attractions for hikers. It's easy to forget how important the fire towers once were. Fires started by trains or fireplaces would burn vast areas of timberland, along with fancy mountain hotels. So loggers and the hotel people got together and worked to create a network of fire towers. </div><div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEit781uBBcoJvAOf42XvMbQlplWPWXAuOGq92c7AdxZqbeLrToCydqyZKjs5bSFWFeDWTMJi6QWuQ4IL1isxYXRqcTDPWsZ7vL3aRlE8-vguiQK00Z54xWqFiYZMHOxys0Azvj4IvZv8G8PEONDDAfjLbYVoWPuOpjAWPt-OWWhSD6WqWw7GbBORjaD=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEit781uBBcoJvAOf42XvMbQlplWPWXAuOGq92c7AdxZqbeLrToCydqyZKjs5bSFWFeDWTMJi6QWuQ4IL1isxYXRqcTDPWsZ7vL3aRlE8-vguiQK00Z54xWqFiYZMHOxys0Azvj4IvZv8G8PEONDDAfjLbYVoWPuOpjAWPt-OWWhSD6WqWw7GbBORjaD=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old logging railroad through the White Mountains<br />Nancy Pond Trail near Mt. Carrigain</td></tr></tbody></table>The old logging railroads are especially noticeable if you take the eastern gap route option through White Mountain National Forest near TriMountain and Mt. Carrigain. The amount of work that went into building the railroad system in the White Mountains is amazing when you consider that the forest was clear-cut once and that was it. The tracks were no longer needed. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjs1eel76ZUqSEMjLO1GGv13Qht-WWfcxAojslmvxiHh8F1idT2De8Qcq_8rAAygTNNZ4oJdRYBSJiNRXL-yz7Aya_PhDCCdtBnNbhZJrxBEJaFBZDxQni0uRHqic_JAgXzk3FUEpVoX_qcGzV8Pu29LEa9mm77HKatTMbNHLgg4BB3xcUEidavef1Y=s1600" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjs1eel76ZUqSEMjLO1GGv13Qht-WWfcxAojslmvxiHh8F1idT2De8Qcq_8rAAygTNNZ4oJdRYBSJiNRXL-yz7Aya_PhDCCdtBnNbhZJrxBEJaFBZDxQni0uRHqic_JAgXzk3FUEpVoX_qcGzV8Pu29LEa9mm77HKatTMbNHLgg4BB3xcUEidavef1Y=w400-h225" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old stands of Paper Birch that sprouted up after logging fires<br />Cohos Trail in the Kilkenny</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div>Another reminder of the previous logging and the fires that were created is the type of trees growing. The combination of dry logging slash left on the ground and sparks flying out of trains lead to some big fires in the White Mountains. After the fires, hillsides of Paper Birch sprouted. You can see this walking the Cohos Trail in the Kilkenny area. Paper Birch doesn't live very long, and it doesn't resprout very well in a growing forest, so there are big stands of old, dying Paper Birch along the trail. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi4Qumh6XaPnEDyS5XThO3Jbw_ID1g-_9vsvbCYH2dqDpjqa4DLQbZobMNQqEJBJe_b-bW7mBLbNE0YHfdS0g-9_glgAZ7veh3_FKqoKzYtcWj0EyRkhHqTPIykMVdkNVNRF3Yibe9LpgYI7VkVodo1s44YUl45jqYLi0klqCOC7FcvdQ15ZV9sAjGn=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi4Qumh6XaPnEDyS5XThO3Jbw_ID1g-_9vsvbCYH2dqDpjqa4DLQbZobMNQqEJBJe_b-bW7mBLbNE0YHfdS0g-9_glgAZ7veh3_FKqoKzYtcWj0EyRkhHqTPIykMVdkNVNRF3Yibe9LpgYI7VkVodo1s44YUl45jqYLi0klqCOC7FcvdQ15ZV9sAjGn=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">ATV road, Cohos Trail<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Once you get pretty close to Canada in the Pittburg area, it is suddenly ATV land. There are ATV roads and ATV rentals and ATV clubs. Cottages and campgrounds are advertised to accommodate ATVs. It's a completely different scene from ATV usage in Connecticut, which is typically a 14-year old boy thrill riding illegally on someone else's property and ripping up hiking trails. These New Hampshire ATVs are ridden legally by men and women of all ages and they often have roll cages for safety. Some locals told me they didn't personally like the ATVs, but it brought in lots of tourist dollars. It's the same view as someone who makes a living off of logging or digging a quarry might have. They don't necessarily like seeing all the trees cut, but it pays the bills. </div><div><br /></div><div>A part of the Cohos Trail currently follows ATV roads, but there are thankfully plans to reroute that, because hiking and ATVs are not compatible. The noise and dust and fear of being struck by a vehicle is exactly what hiker-types are typically trying to avoid, which is why they're hiking and not just walking down a street. There are other areas along the Cohos where you hear the ATVs, sadly, even though the trail is not following an ATV road. Both times I was above Dixville Notch, for example, the experience was marred by the sound of a single ATV down below. But what can you do. I guess you just have to expect the sound of ATVs at the north end of the trail the same way you know you're going to hear traffic noise in Connecticut. <br /></div></div>Teresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04628471774296555013noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410961879681386812.post-89554921088542579752021-10-14T17:33:00.003-04:002022-01-10T16:36:13.567-05:00SRK Greenway: Mt. Sunapee & Lake Solitude<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj_6V2YAg4vkrynObROlj1X3QcRSm4fc0vzui_IYlXN4LTuLTH_oyj859TbOEGACr9wN85boNED8rks0VnD8YttuzyCHGTQLfsU8RqUUb_Ri9LW4bbSBkrnJVwvSVOXp2brFluppEQDfzULoEnO5y5nZBbajNn53DcYx5nC9VMkWSY_BBgZE8jNuewN=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj_6V2YAg4vkrynObROlj1X3QcRSm4fc0vzui_IYlXN4LTuLTH_oyj859TbOEGACr9wN85boNED8rks0VnD8YttuzyCHGTQLfsU8RqUUb_Ri9LW4bbSBkrnJVwvSVOXp2brFluppEQDfzULoEnO5y5nZBbajNn53DcYx5nC9VMkWSY_BBgZE8jNuewN=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kings Hill Road</td></tr></tbody></table>This was the last day of hiking New Hampshire's "Ghost Trail" route between Crawford Notch and Mt. Sunapee. The original plan for the day was to stop at the foot of Mt. Sunapee and save that for the following morning prior to heading home. But I made great time and finished up early. I parked at the hiker lot on Kings Hill Road "Maple Leaf Natural Area" (thank you Sutton Conservation Commission) and headed west up the narrow gravel road. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgKx8-JLT3o7LhpqX62UcRL3jcFGxQHAnNM5VVBrc4EC1C6NnIPWG3_zzUBlHGAUnw9RXKQJMHSAcIwlsYNxjZh1QxbZuppr3nh5XRS2TMgjOU3gHzhCPPB1oRJ2zfkUICxxT0_xeVxP-ltJcbN1FBgQ5JlbLRy3V4C7vk9EYva8t8vK5TfEL89y9SO=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgKx8-JLT3o7LhpqX62UcRL3jcFGxQHAnNM5VVBrc4EC1C6NnIPWG3_zzUBlHGAUnw9RXKQJMHSAcIwlsYNxjZh1QxbZuppr3nh5XRS2TMgjOU3gHzhCPPB1oRJ2zfkUICxxT0_xeVxP-ltJcbN1FBgQ5JlbLRy3V4C7vk9EYva8t8vK5TfEL89y9SO=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Also Kings Hill Road (extra points if you see a dog)</td></tr></tbody></table>About half way up the hill, the drivable gravel road split, with the 'maintained' road going off to the left and the SRK Greenway continuing straight up the hill on a deeply eroded road bed. This seemed to be a very old road that's been more or less abandoned, but has a nice historic feel to it. Stone walls on either side, and old ruins at the top of the hill. Very New England. Back in the day, maybe it was one of the major roads in the area.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh8YO-kHbAh_2658I2oiuF79oOAeGiW4HekkCPJDwXR3iskuLFmKEe_V2_ZAGmLOKpAZKpX0xmAfHzPIqAp-_-mF-sJMg13QXjJGYe1EFhg1QE60h5GIWrDg0OCrg4wG5IU9jvKNzgnlo_X2Utbcw81RZCLDlhT914iHhoMrYLAHr21P34x5H7LRzqa=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh8YO-kHbAh_2658I2oiuF79oOAeGiW4HekkCPJDwXR3iskuLFmKEe_V2_ZAGmLOKpAZKpX0xmAfHzPIqAp-_-mF-sJMg13QXjJGYe1EFhg1QE60h5GIWrDg0OCrg4wG5IU9jvKNzgnlo_X2Utbcw81RZCLDlhT914iHhoMrYLAHr21P34x5H7LRzqa=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking back at an easily missed junction westbound - <br />Trail goes into the woods left of the gate</td></tr></tbody></table>On the way back down the hill, there's a spot that hikers heading in the opposite direction (east) could easily miss. In the above photo, the SRK Greenway heads into the woods to the left of the gate. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgH1h241sa3zFBMahFKqMkXP0G_lpSQlLca2_nxyl7shJLYJ_Il1sVgp9-D4QwwVDgNH6mamacOy1V5g5zB2RGO_69komsfWKzCjSJKhKajR0y1cdRsAWTc6BOVqM1_CR51HnemLi81s85WsBwx4GzggKJPuKUbYsllcpiR-9bZfN2dXblgK3E0FZk9=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgH1h241sa3zFBMahFKqMkXP0G_lpSQlLca2_nxyl7shJLYJ_Il1sVgp9-D4QwwVDgNH6mamacOy1V5g5zB2RGO_69komsfWKzCjSJKhKajR0y1cdRsAWTc6BOVqM1_CR51HnemLi81s85WsBwx4GzggKJPuKUbYsllcpiR-9bZfN2dXblgK3E0FZk9=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Road walks can be nice</td></tr></tbody></table>After some more quiet road walking, the SRK Greenway took up with Stoney Brook Trail, which I enjoyed. No complaints there. It was pretty easy and I was making fast time with little effort. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgbwP5h9-0lCf4qLOLR9txzJ03RSAWcIBFTB4AGMfWsUFeS4_LOvNdjPGFmJQnGbLY0kQyaL8LTZPRnnP98Y-xpDbOVRT3ZDfwuv2WRGUF-tuSUeBDJoatYV9xzdmqu6US9lCYE65yVOxrRm90mksGBLiDzaXnmI9n3oyfOsroHLLmUCaos2p_yvm_x=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1459" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgbwP5h9-0lCf4qLOLR9txzJ03RSAWcIBFTB4AGMfWsUFeS4_LOvNdjPGFmJQnGbLY0kQyaL8LTZPRnnP98Y-xpDbOVRT3ZDfwuv2WRGUF-tuSUeBDJoatYV9xzdmqu6US9lCYE65yVOxrRm90mksGBLiDzaXnmI9n3oyfOsroHLLmUCaos2p_yvm_x=s320" width="292" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stoney Brook Trail</td></tr></tbody></table>After passing through a big empty trailhead parking lot, the trail came out near Chalk Pond. The pond was a bit disappointing, since you get but a brief glimpse of the pond between private dwellings. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhXhnXj2YPcn3hg6CLdlmSrAiE1fnV6jRIO8RY5O1QplVExuiuA56YvTgKJDxt7B9t_66UhTLA3MsviDfR_K4TaONN6C6Ww2RL8jl2NeMSzVNz1qqTcg00B0UG3gMNAawj6wBxg72ENnd7P8DtirHuNAmsSXyNaKaNSUXwNpWIKeswbL-fRpo-eH2ZU=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhXhnXj2YPcn3hg6CLdlmSrAiE1fnV6jRIO8RY5O1QplVExuiuA56YvTgKJDxt7B9t_66UhTLA3MsviDfR_K4TaONN6C6Ww2RL8jl2NeMSzVNz1qqTcg00B0UG3gMNAawj6wBxg72ENnd7P8DtirHuNAmsSXyNaKaNSUXwNpWIKeswbL-fRpo-eH2ZU=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coming out onto Chalk Pond</td></tr></tbody></table>Then there was more wood-road walking up a good hill leading to Fishersfield Trail. This part of the hike was the slowest and most tedious, with uneven footing, but eventually the trail came to the last of the woods before heading down the road towards Sunapee, and I stopped for a break. It was only 11:00 am. How did that happen? It was too early to stop for the day. Also, my husband was in the middle of an 18-hole round of golf. So what the heck, I decided to go up Mt. Sunapee. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEitncFzz6JI20CHDekARSANRbT0Ce-wxX9AvmEJD4esPm7O02u10MRDQtvHXrd1vWqK81b9jsLvqSI_fMx9V2rroAPOi4eeJPOriepKqIMEqxmuepux0143cd7_tLfPr1rP-iuXE0cFOv4g6TaR6N7Jb6VE7DNupQD8tTsLwduo8rh0Jr2SAMteepNp=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="952" data-original-width="1600" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEitncFzz6JI20CHDekARSANRbT0Ce-wxX9AvmEJD4esPm7O02u10MRDQtvHXrd1vWqK81b9jsLvqSI_fMx9V2rroAPOi4eeJPOriepKqIMEqxmuepux0143cd7_tLfPr1rP-iuXE0cFOv4g6TaR6N7Jb6VE7DNupQD8tTsLwduo8rh0Jr2SAMteepNp=w400-h238" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Deer and Turkey registration stations below Mt. Sunapee</td></tr></tbody></table>It was amazingly hot under the sun for mid-October in New Hampshire, near 80-degrees. I sort of wanted to go for a swim in the lake. And I had pictured temps in the fifties. Ha! You just never know. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjZQ8CbwiE_7f3OKdzuwX1rI9XDW0ZQluM7yd2nHq30ZNdAZSUoqpw0vSKyD2SDLTt0MjqXCUBMLJdT9JUwNSfzbBY4OBDws4lslnSAUSZLC5E-iAT5T73V_cpdtmK2sRlqEDQ4pmL6JQqkNxHmsICTX0ziojE8j4qr0cXFXNJaaB5dYxlSzjDLYz_O=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjZQ8CbwiE_7f3OKdzuwX1rI9XDW0ZQluM7yd2nHq30ZNdAZSUoqpw0vSKyD2SDLTt0MjqXCUBMLJdT9JUwNSfzbBY4OBDws4lslnSAUSZLC5E-iAT5T73V_cpdtmK2sRlqEDQ4pmL6JQqkNxHmsICTX0ziojE8j4qr0cXFXNJaaB5dYxlSzjDLYz_O=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Public dock at Lake Sunapee</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhgAGSugyr7eP0dHMCDV5ZeShAu23RVUba8QeSDrg0khR-dBDF8EX8_-0TfHuCp54RAqjj5a99s18-IOqfYAdTxMY6D8qYW5_lrjnmuOc9vqjUCILCnQ1FnGU-lX5htRZGYYjthS91mK9TKQKU7z-L5koZQ42odFZ6HS1IFlVjD_GGR4e4ENYWVVG7I=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1186" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhgAGSugyr7eP0dHMCDV5ZeShAu23RVUba8QeSDrg0khR-dBDF8EX8_-0TfHuCp54RAqjj5a99s18-IOqfYAdTxMY6D8qYW5_lrjnmuOc9vqjUCILCnQ1FnGU-lX5htRZGYYjthS91mK9TKQKU7z-L5koZQ42odFZ6HS1IFlVjD_GGR4e4ENYWVVG7I=w148-h200" width="148" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't do it. </td></tr></tbody></table>I couldn't stop anywhere for refreshments since I had a dog in tow, so I grabbed some drinking water at the end of a public pier on the lake instead. (I later replaced that with water from a stream on Mt. Sunapee). There was public parking at the pier, but it's not the closest parking to the Mt. Sunapee trailhead, which is "at the caboose." I mention this because we did have some confusion when it was time for me to get picked up. <div><br /></div><div>The SRK Greenway follows Newbury Trail up Mt. Sunapee, but there is strictly no parking on Lake View Avenue where the trail begins. People need to park at the caboose. That's right, and if you don't know where the caboose is, just head back down Lake View Avenue until you get to Lake Sunapee and it's right there. Hard to miss. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh_YrPoUdnzD85OH2lH51mk6UrdVh5mQ8vD0q_ndnt3vqyv2-Lb0bQK9j0wJCMMrriG6LbTMjsbk0w4Xca1LxiGIWbcxi1FwX7vspzhxqPS_4-bU07FKipv1Kli7VkawbVxWkcFxYUE9Ng6ZNFk6jOJxd1xaYkPu6uqFkFa0lnF13SB214hzT42RqO1=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh_YrPoUdnzD85OH2lH51mk6UrdVh5mQ8vD0q_ndnt3vqyv2-Lb0bQK9j0wJCMMrriG6LbTMjsbk0w4Xca1LxiGIWbcxi1FwX7vspzhxqPS_4-bU07FKipv1Kli7VkawbVxWkcFxYUE9Ng6ZNFk6jOJxd1xaYkPu6uqFkFa0lnF13SB214hzT42RqO1=w225-h400" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Park at Caboose"</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjeDK0A381ESbRNU8JNXnIbe9K7TW28jpfCkViSzsf2NicyZ1RwPIcvH0WY6Cp09RKJr_2hsTZjoEyt0qo-Qy_Fve-fy8_BYHXZUXA5wo4uxzkj_D2pIZtb5PFaiFbiP9R3zxVIezNcQtJ8Epi5R8v1TCqYMB3S9JRuFyTqnbKgrK58DwAKGPnynXRJ=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjeDK0A381ESbRNU8JNXnIbe9K7TW28jpfCkViSzsf2NicyZ1RwPIcvH0WY6Cp09RKJr_2hsTZjoEyt0qo-Qy_Fve-fy8_BYHXZUXA5wo4uxzkj_D2pIZtb5PFaiFbiP9R3zxVIezNcQtJ8Epi5R8v1TCqYMB3S9JRuFyTqnbKgrK58DwAKGPnynXRJ=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back at Lake Sunapee: Here's the caboose where you park.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhn6-nRu4Q3i0s2L9ZdhyAXF7dgDEbd8dPkcEbpq6UNoy3vq5Bk6JRh_u5mjKMW6jMPvyVOKX1XTga0vgtAsbrTv-XKYxz4wyxargql-0zvd2qEDAFAA6sBcswNYAw5lNaME5188apYPhauktAf3Dy1XRopKGFrmZTOOnvqfwYFVFvy1Lrd9MTSRGWm=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhn6-nRu4Q3i0s2L9ZdhyAXF7dgDEbd8dPkcEbpq6UNoy3vq5Bk6JRh_u5mjKMW6jMPvyVOKX1XTga0vgtAsbrTv-XKYxz4wyxargql-0zvd2qEDAFAA6sBcswNYAw5lNaME5188apYPhauktAf3Dy1XRopKGFrmZTOOnvqfwYFVFvy1Lrd9MTSRGWm=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lake Sunapee at the Caboose. It's a nice spot.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />At any rate, I was rather hot and tired before I even started up Mt. Sunapee, but eager to arrive back at the M-S Greenway and see Lake Solitude once again. It was back in 2018 that I first came through on the M-S Greenway, heading north towards Canada. I remember having such a wonderful and peaceful backpacking trip up Mt. Sunapee (pretty sure I heard a moose trot past my tent at night) until I arrived at Lake Solitude, when all the sudden there were noisy hikers yelling about what they were going to have for lunch. On the opposite side of the lake. And I could hear every word they were saying. I finally had to put ear plugs in. Hopefully Lake Solitude would live up to its name this trip. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhnZ1kHzIAaG2djedGta1z3UqBZBFHGFxw-FHXGDPOTTWWg6ud00_BfO4sYApkrtnGD0tX5S6A42ZqZqCmHWTZLtbbd_C3yd3Us8CgY3PWCBEArt6GZbCRz4vz1uMYKgQi2bqdGIeP-zz2xzseoaZ1v8jN_NTlP_093rhKr9DbKsj5EpDps3yVIHq9B=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1163" data-original-width="1600" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhnZ1kHzIAaG2djedGta1z3UqBZBFHGFxw-FHXGDPOTTWWg6ud00_BfO4sYApkrtnGD0tX5S6A42ZqZqCmHWTZLtbbd_C3yd3Us8CgY3PWCBEArt6GZbCRz4vz1uMYKgQi2bqdGIeP-zz2xzseoaZ1v8jN_NTlP_093rhKr9DbKsj5EpDps3yVIHq9B=w400-h291" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading up Mt. Sunapee on the Newbury Trail</td></tr></tbody></table>The trip up was pretty good as the weather started to change and get a little dramatic. Low clouds skimming by, and thankfully cooler. There were a few dayhikers here and there and issues with us trying to keep our dogs apart. But overall, not too bad. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEigalE0_ktDkJ_j0GTHsfkQ6xkyHPEtMkHvXeIF19nrDrl69ZMTHxuVrwFd9ihsa_JXO0cv_A_Z4ARl8gfXqMoV-pkBrJ1wqZMhyeUlMq_5-GA825WeEnu52EOnCM-JTZ3-V4L4gEP0eJOw2XTJvHzXPI_oVVomGfdphOsRdyJlHQLBJ8I0gVqlnzOy=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEigalE0_ktDkJ_j0GTHsfkQ6xkyHPEtMkHvXeIF19nrDrl69ZMTHxuVrwFd9ihsa_JXO0cv_A_Z4ARl8gfXqMoV-pkBrJ1wqZMhyeUlMq_5-GA825WeEnu52EOnCM-JTZ3-V4L4gEP0eJOw2XTJvHzXPI_oVVomGfdphOsRdyJlHQLBJ8I0gVqlnzOy=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A look back</td></tr></tbody></table>Part way up was a nice overlook back towards Lake Sunapee. It was the only vista on the hike up to Lake Solitude. There are overlooks if you go all the way up to the summit of Mt. Sunapee, but that wasn't my plan since I'd already done that in 2018. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiusqZROhxIBIk-ySDtAq_Bv5_HSIbFYxhjOSJJRPApLqd8uUx9lMDJMnspwAGIu_oqdKPZ0pbsv7JEPpHpjyPcZEqdKgTg3mUTAarkTNex3YJ6oxqe7AyAlmL3VyRRTvoIs1n7PAomq7JjtiVpDAZefoaJ3Cvznz9ts2FPC3HTKxWGlWKz4ENXKebU=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1096" data-original-width="1600" height="274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiusqZROhxIBIk-ySDtAq_Bv5_HSIbFYxhjOSJJRPApLqd8uUx9lMDJMnspwAGIu_oqdKPZ0pbsv7JEPpHpjyPcZEqdKgTg3mUTAarkTNex3YJ6oxqe7AyAlmL3VyRRTvoIs1n7PAomq7JjtiVpDAZefoaJ3Cvznz9ts2FPC3HTKxWGlWKz4ENXKebU=w400-h274" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fall color heading up Sunapee</td></tr></tbody></table>And finally I reached the "Jack & June Junction" where the SRK Greenway and M-S Greenway meet. I'd been here before and had just completed one very big circle. North to the Appalachian Trail at Moose Mtn in 2018, the A.T. to Bretton Woods in 2019, and then heading back south in 2021 from Bretton Woods to Sunapee via the Cohos and Ghost Trail. So cool. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi_v_2DLIsHE6hgs2_B297jlqqpaSGKZsMzvdOd89ZoUNIAfzkyc6ali-xfN9iuwnfubLPbpoKsp1WxEKjJHQLgB16ijFoo59Tq1J6ZIF72AKhazeCM6ZEuAzHtIMuN3v-f34wXpLSwOqLqOxWQWOWxbbNzeAnVvawMG53WTi4F2sg8xQUMjZa_rqzu=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi_v_2DLIsHE6hgs2_B297jlqqpaSGKZsMzvdOd89ZoUNIAfzkyc6ali-xfN9iuwnfubLPbpoKsp1WxEKjJHQLgB16ijFoo59Tq1J6ZIF72AKhazeCM6ZEuAzHtIMuN3v-f34wXpLSwOqLqOxWQWOWxbbNzeAnVvawMG53WTi4F2sg8xQUMjZa_rqzu=w225-h400" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jack & June Junction</td></tr></tbody></table>I could have stopped there, but I really wanted to continue to nearby Lake Solitude, and so I did. In my mind, this was the point where the New Hampshire "Gap" alternatives diverge, although technically the routes diverge at the Jack & June Junction. From this point, you can head north on the SRK Greenway and then follow some snowmobile trails towards Moose Mountain, the fastest way to the Appalachian Trail. Or you can go east on the SRK Greenway over Kearsarge and Ragged Mountains to Mt. Cardigan. From there, some people head north towards Mt. Moosilauke and the Appalachian Trail. And others might head east from Cardigan along the "Ghost Trail" through Hebron and Plymouth and on to the trails of White Mountain National Forest by way of Whiteface and Carrigain Mountains. All routes lead to the Cohos Trail near Bretton Woods, which takes you to the Canadian border. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEivCa9qtF0jSwN6XGxyYuBVoD285uXCYZqvjmO1MXxV6BQuWrqoEdEGyTDf9vDBaubS2FcWM2T3jkGf_yow3ywfGTIJcwgTPvoC4bN10aFu0SZrxVoX7CnfFE8_7NhJQHCe6rPwzeBf8sLIgVIBYVnVR0_SZuhhr2Cg-51tiK4gomU_BWEltsiQQmKT=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEivCa9qtF0jSwN6XGxyYuBVoD285uXCYZqvjmO1MXxV6BQuWrqoEdEGyTDf9vDBaubS2FcWM2T3jkGf_yow3ywfGTIJcwgTPvoC4bN10aFu0SZrxVoX7CnfFE8_7NhJQHCe6rPwzeBf8sLIgVIBYVnVR0_SZuhhr2Cg-51tiK4gomU_BWEltsiQQmKT=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lake Solitude</td></tr></tbody></table><br />This time, when I reached Lake Solitude, all was still. <br /></div>Teresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04628471774296555013noreply@blogger.com0Mount Sunapee, Newbury, NH 03255, USA43.313610999999987 -72.07416715.003377163821142 -107.230417 71.623844836178833 -36.917917tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410961879681386812.post-13616453161930643802021-10-13T16:37:00.237-04:002022-01-07T17:30:17.335-05:00SRK Greenway: Mt. Kearsarge<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhwmM6GmvTt4lxTiYY_xvmcyjOzdEzfJX8hflTGjHdGf7Z_c3SLlPxJYhcfjy9hXj6ni-CNlb-MYR717naIiYAn8jyoN0IcxUD-j39Ook9NeoqPpJxK_gsN9RM1BL-y5OVpNVXxG0K9XSYR85_oXeyex3vzavkSFBlOZAjfbyLtVueypemBlY20Gybe=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhwmM6GmvTt4lxTiYY_xvmcyjOzdEzfJX8hflTGjHdGf7Z_c3SLlPxJYhcfjy9hXj6ni-CNlb-MYR717naIiYAn8jyoN0IcxUD-j39Ook9NeoqPpJxK_gsN9RM1BL-y5OVpNVXxG0K9XSYR85_oXeyex3vzavkSFBlOZAjfbyLtVueypemBlY20Gybe=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading up Barlow Trail</td></tr></tbody></table>Mt. Kearsarge looks like it gets mobbed, but I can say that if you go on a weekday morning in mid-October, it is deserted. Wonderful! The vast parking lot for Winslow State Park had only a few cars at 8:00 am. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjl1exP0MlnBg9ogL8r13G2L8l3hrWFwGOZbWvI2XHE3oz-PZkSO08ZY9mRlJuGEYMhtwu_8Xurs18hkrcmjUBuhNLsFGZqUyUT0w5nXgn7ipSYznNa7_AXzzctAiRz4bdb153FWj5hUFqTrWrtTVmBExF9Gu54H7xRae8zBTa7ptN_Pgvk3cYuW8of=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjl1exP0MlnBg9ogL8r13G2L8l3hrWFwGOZbWvI2XHE3oz-PZkSO08ZY9mRlJuGEYMhtwu_8Xurs18hkrcmjUBuhNLsFGZqUyUT0w5nXgn7ipSYznNa7_AXzzctAiRz4bdb153FWj5hUFqTrWrtTVmBExF9Gu54H7xRae8zBTa7ptN_Pgvk3cYuW8of=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Quinn's overlords beam down a message</td></tr></tbody></table><br />That parking lot is high up the flanks of the mountain, so it's a pretty quick climb up to the top. The SRK Greenway follows Barlow Trail up the mountain, the longer and easier route. It clearly gets a lot of use. I passed a nice woman coming down the mountain early on, and then a couple of jerks with two off-leash bully-breed dogs that charged my leashed terrier and caused a kerfuffle because terriers will raise hell protecting themselves. And that can lead to a fight, and my dog could be seriously hurt or killed. This happened to someone I know. So there were some words exchanged. But after that, I had the mountain to myself. It was amazing. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhclcUF88r1Ar3067TU3WlRMMyISnA98Geu1jjqIyw4Z-S73XhgIDozpyuDuFR2YpG30Z6qI7rPtyFwKm0OtjdTDRK6s8Wt_EuspYK-UkS3G__5LXfg1NfwrmORgAh44d0Lt2LiSmCtrWsFTqn9oJ2ALVfj6JWmKphk-EOiTHoM_LfcT3_PaNQpmQVf=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhclcUF88r1Ar3067TU3WlRMMyISnA98Geu1jjqIyw4Z-S73XhgIDozpyuDuFR2YpG30Z6qI7rPtyFwKm0OtjdTDRK6s8Wt_EuspYK-UkS3G__5LXfg1NfwrmORgAh44d0Lt2LiSmCtrWsFTqn9oJ2ALVfj6JWmKphk-EOiTHoM_LfcT3_PaNQpmQVf=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking back at Ragged Mountain, with Proctor Academy <br />and Bradley Lake below</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjBRhRgCnwcbaSxSBTEtVAe8rBPPQtjHPB-kQ8JS0oP9kTuM_I2XCFdtAaHPjT7eDnSk_XHrd0nuLM8lSJb2ilbtc_NBbxaE_wnohrew7Dts0KCdTaQSneBdyESJZpJgfJ0DoFOEWaMK-vjsolYKDV7IyYMqctauMk8-ehe9A_RPy9Yb2oE6GE8dVt1=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjBRhRgCnwcbaSxSBTEtVAe8rBPPQtjHPB-kQ8JS0oP9kTuM_I2XCFdtAaHPjT7eDnSk_XHrd0nuLM8lSJb2ilbtc_NBbxaE_wnohrew7Dts0KCdTaQSneBdyESJZpJgfJ0DoFOEWaMK-vjsolYKDV7IyYMqctauMk8-ehe9A_RPy9Yb2oE6GE8dVt1=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Very old grafitti at the top of Kearsarge</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The mountain is high enough above the surrounding terrain that everything seems to flatten out. Not quite as much as at the top of Mt. Monadnock, but it was the same effect. The summer-like haze also washed out the colors. But it was clear! So often you climb up a peak on a cloudy day and see nothing. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiM7Q27R8POMPNuyDgPo94wVYLEsm0PEW-pTCBo83MpAuSFGvrhaNf-v00Jh69LkG8hjoUcfxbv9yZ_dZeRt55PU_Esn9U6PMXYZ5jjJhOkGqcjdEWvVlFTehhFYKpAS6q6RrqXDE-dk-FAdGeKnFN-MyQNOMDVSSwO9BJsokqv-yj1-L4SoggYeZJS=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiM7Q27R8POMPNuyDgPo94wVYLEsm0PEW-pTCBo83MpAuSFGvrhaNf-v00Jh69LkG8hjoUcfxbv9yZ_dZeRt55PU_Esn9U6PMXYZ5jjJhOkGqcjdEWvVlFTehhFYKpAS6q6RrqXDE-dk-FAdGeKnFN-MyQNOMDVSSwO9BJsokqv-yj1-L4SoggYeZJS=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mt. Kearsarge summit</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I enjoyed looking back at Ragged Mountain, and used the Peakfinder app to identify what else I was looking at. Such as Mt. Cardigan, Mt. Monadnock, Mt. Sunapee, Smarts Mountain, and even Mt. Washington. Quite the view. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgfSW5daT846rmBvd4fPTtjVdRxSFV86SyKparCnvfxxVpdKG97fzIigENrOaXMzXzb7pruOniomIWikxgefpmkmB0IexbKCBPAeRY5ew5lhcv5noYFm2UyOSLk8StBBHrYdtFH7g8UAoj216y4XLNgQLL0-lKr0AlxqcuG13HyMQDHXMisc9kehd5Q=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1066" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgfSW5daT846rmBvd4fPTtjVdRxSFV86SyKparCnvfxxVpdKG97fzIigENrOaXMzXzb7pruOniomIWikxgefpmkmB0IexbKCBPAeRY5ew5lhcv5noYFm2UyOSLk8StBBHrYdtFH7g8UAoj216y4XLNgQLL0-lKr0AlxqcuG13HyMQDHXMisc9kehd5Q=w400-h266" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mt. Sunapee on the horizon (far right)</td></tr></tbody></table>I was hoping to meet my husband up at the top. He had decided to park at the big Mt. Kearsarge State Forest parking lot on the south side of the mountain and hike up. But he got a late start and the drive up the park road was much slower than anticipated. After hanging out at the top for twenty minutes or so, I figured I catch him on the way down. And I thought I heard his voice at one point, but it turned out that he was going up a different trail than the one I was taking down. Like two ships in the night. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgRZ_A4xHYA3jMLqYKwEdy30hshhgDuEICOFOj55NiNEpZPEL0aWaM4v1JXbqsJPKVxUF_3egXxg64yjkdqszfhpN1Fz4Jmx5unXup4JT4IfZBo1tO5QR9teg7usuxvCbHJH6CxzybY55BFWf2NSSvpu4WPjGCiTuei_zlEYKSPTKFG-yr6AMuBme01=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgRZ_A4xHYA3jMLqYKwEdy30hshhgDuEICOFOj55NiNEpZPEL0aWaM4v1JXbqsJPKVxUF_3egXxg64yjkdqszfhpN1Fz4Jmx5unXup4JT4IfZBo1tO5QR9teg7usuxvCbHJH6CxzybY55BFWf2NSSvpu4WPjGCiTuei_zlEYKSPTKFG-yr6AMuBme01=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lincoln Trail started out steeper than expected</td></tr></tbody></table>The SRK Greenway follows the Lincoln Trail down the mountain, which turned out to be quite steep at the beginning. I would have preferred taking the Rollins Trail if I'd known the trail was a cliff. I didn't have a heavy pack, but I did have a leashed nut job of a terrier. Going downhill can be pretty nerve wracking with a leashed dog, especially when there are a lot of chipmunks. The rodents were forever trolling my dog, just begging to be chased. They were everywhere.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhRxIpUJ_6Gt16GWUvzPVXdN6dKzP5lRZxysMa9WTCIS0FRu3OT4k0PNLfVcAapeUDiAxVsVRm4dOD_9JJf9pwigwgg7YLHqJlwyS7PwNsfKlb1irk2FiFXBcTr1LDvLhySVEhTl6CcTQL6WPakI1tOjblwc2-S80s0M2RyU8WvnvByRCxn8QQdn2xS=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhRxIpUJ_6Gt16GWUvzPVXdN6dKzP5lRZxysMa9WTCIS0FRu3OT4k0PNLfVcAapeUDiAxVsVRm4dOD_9JJf9pwigwgg7YLHqJlwyS7PwNsfKlb1irk2FiFXBcTr1LDvLhySVEhTl6CcTQL6WPakI1tOjblwc2-S80s0M2RyU8WvnvByRCxn8QQdn2xS=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The rest of Lincoln Trail was pretty gentle<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>I never actually saw the parking lot for the state forest, because the trail goes near it but not right to it. But immediately after the parking area, the trail narrowed, the grade eased, and it was pleasant walk down the mountain. This would be a great spot for the state to open up a primitive camping area. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhdEYe8jpZp79Eblv-TUgMBJhJSepBXjRtUk_LTq_Z8wMDxPKH1ElFrL9EZTa3lCX7dw7JZKk7TFszcPST4r3CjyMsSDlIGfUV4zUp5zeWDK-JESaVJ6Lam5kyzMUVhtV8n9U6rqW6Mlf6tkjjW2kon7bD2DXIOztBR1RV0h6jUlsNKF52lQSQfqiv5=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhdEYe8jpZp79Eblv-TUgMBJhJSepBXjRtUk_LTq_Z8wMDxPKH1ElFrL9EZTa3lCX7dw7JZKk7TFszcPST4r3CjyMsSDlIGfUV4zUp5zeWDK-JESaVJ6Lam5kyzMUVhtV8n9U6rqW6Mlf6tkjjW2kon7bD2DXIOztBR1RV0h6jUlsNKF52lQSQfqiv5=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Private lands managed for timber near Baker Ledge</td></tr></tbody></table>Eventually the trail leaves the state forest and enters private lands being managed for logging, which opened up a nice view back towards Kearsarge. It was in this area that I accidentally dropped the dog's training collar remote. Didn't realize it until further down. I use the remote to chime a bell when the dog starts pulling me down a hill. Works pretty well when I don't lose the remote. Coming out at the bottom, I ran into my husband coming in from the road, just getting back from his hike up the mountain and long drive down. He was game and willing to head up the hill and find the lost remote...and take the dog. Whoohoo! (He did find it after a good long hike. My hero!). I continued along the SRK Greenway and crossed under I-89. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi6va976sMPNxTvM_RhKOy9xwsxPnw6ljAYQES7FkbEvRXlcfFqIzZTxqLULLQzQe6pkec6cyBJZdLN-74DwN-UE91wgXj1UWTsKi0BC6GPGMVgfYmJbe_-Lsoty-LxtJZRZhU4BdIPqEfWRaD3HjDkvFpg0wXbAO4xOr-sG9YR-c2H1lnn0lx_aMjg=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi6va976sMPNxTvM_RhKOy9xwsxPnw6ljAYQES7FkbEvRXlcfFqIzZTxqLULLQzQe6pkec6cyBJZdLN-74DwN-UE91wgXj1UWTsKi0BC6GPGMVgfYmJbe_-Lsoty-LxtJZRZhU4BdIPqEfWRaD3HjDkvFpg0wXbAO4xOr-sG9YR-c2H1lnn0lx_aMjg=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crossing under I-89</td></tr></tbody></table>The SRK Greenway between Kearsarge and Sunapee is a patchwork affair. There will be a minor road walk, and then a trail, then another road walk, and another trail, and so on. All in all, there was less road walking than expected, though, because many of the "roads" on the maps aren't streets per se. Nothing most people can drive on. First up was Shadow Hill State Forest featuring Gile Pond. This was a peaceful place to take a break and collect some water. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj_hnMDP7G7P6KGQ1zTlpD1hXH8UGWCgg6IsoQF-ln1YQIzAawqzy8I_ESO9t9P74C28K2uontgcIgpxA6vt82KtphXxXXVJKSFLbPpqEZhpANucBY4YDTiKmQditdBbO3gZLRNOTKO93qsMImYa6M9pczo5MXbw6b78i5GigH2ChCFv8GRN12czh5Y=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj_hnMDP7G7P6KGQ1zTlpD1hXH8UGWCgg6IsoQF-ln1YQIzAawqzy8I_ESO9t9P74C28K2uontgcIgpxA6vt82KtphXxXXVJKSFLbPpqEZhpANucBY4YDTiKmQditdBbO3gZLRNOTKO93qsMImYa6M9pczo5MXbw6b78i5GigH2ChCFv8GRN12czh5Y=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gile Pond, Shadow Hill State Forest</td></tr></tbody></table>Next up was Wadleigh State Park and Kezar Lake, where I had planned to stop for the day because there was good parking where I could leave my car the next morning. My husband was still up on Mt. Kearsarge gamely looking for the lost dog remote, however, and I didn't feel like waiting around, so I continued down the road along the shore of the wonderfully named Kezar Lake and hoped I'd find a spot where I could leave a car the next day. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhHtl6JIUB9B7WuT3BdMKvCU2E4abXtzZIZ83ERQBYPW_KGvDHUZ-xWM78LNFKAqQqNSKAy1cOXDPyW4KwPry_TutjEAYT-w5kJpIQCyxI6yKzZ6uOglhPox8c_exMrX-6aOteKFBjbvncoeCGczpJ6Rg2uzKWyeIE2-QU9Njr7PVG9Tbie4R7Clh1c=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhHtl6JIUB9B7WuT3BdMKvCU2E4abXtzZIZ83ERQBYPW_KGvDHUZ-xWM78LNFKAqQqNSKAy1cOXDPyW4KwPry_TutjEAYT-w5kJpIQCyxI6yKzZ6uOglhPox8c_exMrX-6aOteKFBjbvncoeCGczpJ6Rg2uzKWyeIE2-QU9Njr7PVG9Tbie4R7Clh1c=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking along Kezar Lake </td></tr></tbody></table>This was a fun road walk. Penacook Road closely follows the shoreline of the lake and is lined with well-maintained cottages. It was full of people walking and running and riding bikes and felt more like a multi-use trail than a road. Part way down the road I got a text that my husband had found the dog remote that I'd lost and that made the road walk even better. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhTVyKykJFbM3BeHFEZMx-oAwEgPkxyoKFx4BHv_7Ljn-VtRFtC10qD3RYflBHQ3sbVL8OeZZEpviYr-cepyV3ighjzbEAxfaU7HX0k17z2K8i8oS8VicjBmfHwGe7Mlk5qTk1AcaHuljkjhnbTxOZqy33MhbEcQLLm6tjN59tV2sobrh53_aDNc4Wt=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhTVyKykJFbM3BeHFEZMx-oAwEgPkxyoKFx4BHv_7Ljn-VtRFtC10qD3RYflBHQ3sbVL8OeZZEpviYr-cepyV3ighjzbEAxfaU7HX0k17z2K8i8oS8VicjBmfHwGe7Mlk5qTk1AcaHuljkjhnbTxOZqy33MhbEcQLLm6tjN59tV2sobrh53_aDNc4Wt=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking back at Kearsarge from Kezar Lake</td></tr></tbody></table>After Kezar Lake, I started looking for some place I'd be able to leave a car, but it wasn't looking good. The trail turned onto Kings Hill Road, and there were signs telling people they couldn't park there. Hmm. The sun was surprisingly hot for mid-October. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhPuzvkHqRTr0q9YyZeh9iagXTCR_1JfOauAhKUO7qpRwT9Cyxzo_SdpA-oWb37mFI-4dSnL5DZM4JHlICtzLzZtI-VWHPm4fa_N9kMUK0g8qcvVgHILkTg_cBa_YyJaYCTwnXSSu3jSPB9O6ScQ7kfQj30g1Rjf2qJ_Rk_eCJ8s67dBwha8WSosSWr=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhPuzvkHqRTr0q9YyZeh9iagXTCR_1JfOauAhKUO7qpRwT9Cyxzo_SdpA-oWb37mFI-4dSnL5DZM4JHlICtzLzZtI-VWHPm4fa_N9kMUK0g8qcvVgHILkTg_cBa_YyJaYCTwnXSSu3jSPB9O6ScQ7kfQj30g1Rjf2qJ_Rk_eCJ8s67dBwha8WSosSWr=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kings Hill Road</td></tr></tbody></table>As the road headed up the hill, Kings Hill, the road began to narrow and I was really starting to worry that I wouldn't find a good stopping place where I'd be able to park the next the day. And then all the sudden I came upon a hiker lot for the King Hill Reservation Maple Leaf Natural Area. Yay! <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhZ1qR4GYWpX3z24xlMkYCWGxXrAC2gB1x4BWgjjuvMniKZ2mFM4_dXxs3lkjgR_GXIRADTUQtfB-SimyXPdam4nQd6Xw72i4y3yL4r7-e1cfg5uTHo-WLaukZh1wmyZMLyO5IxbfEO4dPtXgaxx-tSn0rqc3qOInTJMkukg8HS_i4jwlh7wJ737r1d=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhZ1qR4GYWpX3z24xlMkYCWGxXrAC2gB1x4BWgjjuvMniKZ2mFM4_dXxs3lkjgR_GXIRADTUQtfB-SimyXPdam4nQd6Xw72i4y3yL4r7-e1cfg5uTHo-WLaukZh1wmyZMLyO5IxbfEO4dPtXgaxx-tSn0rqc3qOInTJMkukg8HS_i4jwlh7wJ737r1d=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hiker parking lot on Kings Hill Road</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I sat down at the kiosk to wait for my husband. I was sitting there playing Sudoku on my phone when some guy walked by and exclaimed with excitement "ARE YOU LOST!" Really? Actually, I get asked this question a lot. If I stop to pull an apply out of my pack, or check a text message on my phone, or pull out some letterboxing clues, or step off the trail with my psycho dog to avoid dog-drama, some guy will ask if I'm lost. Sigh. <br />Teresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04628471774296555013noreply@blogger.com0Mt Kearsarge, Warner, NH 03278, USA43.3834092 -71.857025315.073175363821157 -107.0132753 71.693643036178855 -36.700775300000004tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410961879681386812.post-4960961605274846952021-10-12T12:58:00.377-04:002022-01-06T14:15:46.535-05:00SRK Greenway: Ragged Mountain<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj6SayHi7ngo9R38Rv-gfjCxzfUztboH8Zyby_fcqHjK_uDNBpQ5VLErK6IKdsklplYUYxOTQpoISpoNt7lNuozApMWV3Tp0k4HLGvVcaTZe0eBDF3KXySaZVy7yeL5kGluLhQcyIFvMNOiOPotg4UuLAZJ309xPIjj26g6GCxaRfYd8w0os4VxLaWa=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1187" data-original-width="1600" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj6SayHi7ngo9R38Rv-gfjCxzfUztboH8Zyby_fcqHjK_uDNBpQ5VLErK6IKdsklplYUYxOTQpoISpoNt7lNuozApMWV3Tp0k4HLGvVcaTZe0eBDF3KXySaZVy7yeL5kGluLhQcyIFvMNOiOPotg4UuLAZJ309xPIjj26g6GCxaRfYd8w0os4VxLaWa=w400-h296" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">SRK Greenway - let's get started!</td></tr></tbody></table>Great to be back on the SRK Greenway, this time doing the part between Mt Sunapee and Ragged Mountain. There's no backpacking allowed on the Greenway, which runs through private property, although in reality there are a few overnight options for backpackers. That includes my starting point for the day, the New Hampshire Mountain Inn, located on New Canada Road, which is part of the SRK Greenway on the north side of Ragged Mountain. We were checking out, but the Inn owner let me leave my car there for the day so I could hike the Greenway. It was nice to just walk straight out of the hotel and onto the trail, freshly showered, and with a dog instead of a heavy backpack. <br /><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi44qwAnnTCA-jqVnDMVFHpmN1KrgOdrmrzyTuOgSacVixjKcj7sUrushUresanpFYAFNls7OtSNd-nmF1slIJsviEpHPucHvgwkjcqxUGkolMeu43MM6lHhu0VVTNsN5izqETm0JC6anmrha1kTh4k-Pb4z1G5kYnmxuacJc40-5caNixN2cSABCVy=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1105" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi44qwAnnTCA-jqVnDMVFHpmN1KrgOdrmrzyTuOgSacVixjKcj7sUrushUresanpFYAFNls7OtSNd-nmF1slIJsviEpHPucHvgwkjcqxUGkolMeu43MM6lHhu0VVTNsN5izqETm0JC6anmrha1kTh4k-Pb4z1G5kYnmxuacJc40-5caNixN2cSABCVy=w276-h400" width="276" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Go faster, boss!"</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The north side of Ragged Mountain was a delightful climb, with lots of terrain changes. It was not a slog, and it was never boring. Mostly it was gradual, occasionally steep, and it would often level out on some plateau for a bit, as it twisted and turned up the mountain. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhGkKR2fyG_x8pbPA2plTnjWv-KXoz3NQDHWSaOSYp-mp3SYB4wlUbHM8inmRukVWEc_Gb-_EqpQGUiVE_kY8BEC1mep4a2hB4cZ6yzGHjOWEuRq1Iiu52r0COkpEr-32S3qcP49jf6eJCmuPdOk8xefunaRjJCE_FeUKmP8N1hlIv80HA0VGBVfaYX=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhGkKR2fyG_x8pbPA2plTnjWv-KXoz3NQDHWSaOSYp-mp3SYB4wlUbHM8inmRukVWEc_Gb-_EqpQGUiVE_kY8BEC1mep4a2hB4cZ6yzGHjOWEuRq1Iiu52r0COkpEr-32S3qcP49jf6eJCmuPdOk8xefunaRjJCE_FeUKmP8N1hlIv80HA0VGBVfaYX=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nice variety going up Ragged Mountain</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Part way up, a view opened up towards a second peak to the south called "the Pinnacle" on some maps. I believe this is the third spot called "the Pinnacle" along the overall route up from Long Island Sound, the other two being in Connecticut. This second peak is the same height as the Ragged Mountain peak. It's not clear if both peaks are considered part of Ragged Mountain or what. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjfCBohYKm-5EaakcAWVIjEZPh1xNIC4B4iGvXayrLZMGtZ2-CUn5UJAyLWNpSf_1GjoAkLshZwUEGxh9fPdZ3wViq0roqDiUB4bXMExWqc6cXoZWzUSF7s5nOZDjv1Q5Ik5i_wlX8vnKUIyIB5qQ3iDhGSu5xAGg6BDeOecTZaLxCkcik9Svay20nK=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjfCBohYKm-5EaakcAWVIjEZPh1xNIC4B4iGvXayrLZMGtZ2-CUn5UJAyLWNpSf_1GjoAkLshZwUEGxh9fPdZ3wViq0roqDiUB4bXMExWqc6cXoZWzUSF7s5nOZDjv1Q5Ik5i_wlX8vnKUIyIB5qQ3iDhGSu5xAGg6BDeOecTZaLxCkcik9Svay20nK=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View towards Ragged Mountain's sister: "the Pinnacle"</td></tr></tbody></table>Eventually I heard some heavy equipment up ahead, and it turned out to be some work at the top near the ski facilities, close to the trail. So I didn't get to explore the top at all, just pausing to snap a couple photos. Thankfully, the trail turn in the clearing was marked very well and I didn't have to worry about wandering around a moving backhoe to find the turnoff. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhGppAnzIzfG1ddRSm0EWc2ZkzMIh7R4PqegShtMK2NtERGBLkrMDZJBKU5P_mQMk9C0k8MRSIFN6NKo_n3Ikf4hOzLOyRrzmttm6kkAIORJoWSuAuR10aaj3YpeJT9I_kqlPf7sNc7vkWg7UzZcwWbRItsmF_ar9za1YaicrJolbTtrKdDJOktxZIZ=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhGppAnzIzfG1ddRSm0EWc2ZkzMIh7R4PqegShtMK2NtERGBLkrMDZJBKU5P_mQMk9C0k8MRSIFN6NKo_n3Ikf4hOzLOyRrzmttm6kkAIORJoWSuAuR10aaj3YpeJT9I_kqlPf7sNc7vkWg7UzZcwWbRItsmF_ar9za1YaicrJolbTtrKdDJOktxZIZ=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Top of Ragged Mountain</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>It was an enjoyable walk between the two peaks. There was a one steep spot where instead of a heavy backpack pulling me back, I had an enthusiastic terrier pulling me up. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjjNrzkjSEcCBLAvtwCPViOibJS_ldwU6JH3jwZ9sjbSCiH_4LbQM18fUN5kp4EYFgMZNq4PAigl0Si3nq2wqY0NVddoJFZrs1uR6iaTPgr3_1IYlTP8GootMlDx4t0Cbs0-JClLDP4rmPE15LJdjsCgEuCerpFP0nlELWTWi1ljJ_d_J797rRtjERi=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1259" data-original-width="1600" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjjNrzkjSEcCBLAvtwCPViOibJS_ldwU6JH3jwZ9sjbSCiH_4LbQM18fUN5kp4EYFgMZNq4PAigl0Si3nq2wqY0NVddoJFZrs1uR6iaTPgr3_1IYlTP8GootMlDx4t0Cbs0-JClLDP4rmPE15LJdjsCgEuCerpFP0nlELWTWi1ljJ_d_J797rRtjERi=w400-h315" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Do not ski this trail alone"</td></tr></tbody></table>In the low area between the two peaks, the trail comes to a junction with a wider trail called Wilson's Wonder according to the sign on the ground. A ski trail. This isn't one of the Ragged Mountain ski resort trails. Instead, it heads to the south towards Proctor's Academy. The markings were confusing here. Fresh leaves covered the narrow SRK Greenway tread, so I needed the markings. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi95l58WWKGAFJjkBuCG5YSd2CKqXLaD8_oj4OtYVsxJaqbWDzTgCcUNHGJhNAxnVh5wzhb4qwvtggHid8robdk1sNkKwXnxh6zMpsv6LNMUbZ3AJK269RFWjEsSl9cx9Toqgt86HPYciz88wrzLNMw-CQbl1d8KJbiV-den9712H2JOOiijux34ZZ9=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi95l58WWKGAFJjkBuCG5YSd2CKqXLaD8_oj4OtYVsxJaqbWDzTgCcUNHGJhNAxnVh5wzhb4qwvtggHid8robdk1sNkKwXnxh6zMpsv6LNMUbZ3AJK269RFWjEsSl9cx9Toqgt86HPYciz88wrzLNMw-CQbl1d8KJbiV-den9712H2JOOiijux34ZZ9=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Confusing markers at a trail junction. Do I go straight or left??</td></tr></tbody></table>But there were two markings, one pointing ahead into the woods and another pointing left up the Wilson's Wonder ski trail. After some meandering about looking for the next marker, I finally figured out that what they meant was to first go straight, then go left. Better to get people through the intersection first with one blaze, then put a second blaze where the trail bends to the left. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjvvkG0y4BiCMrTF4IHtc5iF6O69fO7NX94EfXkAxohHaanXrYXFUXZNjmgaeFZ7WDNJOgWMhEQ-b-lH9sjwDCjFwyAedIQro0p2_zm6cXeQb_Rbaynn-JFIhoFVoimSo3BoGGl8tlQGLVHGt__hCTWioF6So8OeMWXhWgjZmwrTuv4XWMwtumadzku=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjvvkG0y4BiCMrTF4IHtc5iF6O69fO7NX94EfXkAxohHaanXrYXFUXZNjmgaeFZ7WDNJOgWMhEQ-b-lH9sjwDCjFwyAedIQro0p2_zm6cXeQb_Rbaynn-JFIhoFVoimSo3BoGGl8tlQGLVHGt__hCTWioF6So8OeMWXhWgjZmwrTuv4XWMwtumadzku=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking back at Ragged Mtn from the Pinnacle overlook</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The overlook at the Pinnacle was fantastic and a great place to have a break. The moody low clouds of the previous days had been replaced with summer-like conditions. It was warm and hazy, not the cool, clear October weather I was expecting. Mt. Kearsarge was right in front of me. That would be the next day's hike. Mt. Sunapee was on the far horizon, the last point on the right along a long ridge. That would hopefully be the day after. <br /><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhgbiTKycKOJnbnWeLUj9jazXtygPA17UOtCDR03OR2lmFsKC_yU8P2jDG0f92_lIVB7wB3Xu-Ftz_GiLmpfnoMAULO--nfk6B1CEdK4NkCNwmw1CR_MyUU4wctH6f0EV0xjFD2JItQ6QtxqvL4G_6aQRhHPBBq6-jFHpv2a73nHfGLSFAJ39aH8Pep=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhgbiTKycKOJnbnWeLUj9jazXtygPA17UOtCDR03OR2lmFsKC_yU8P2jDG0f92_lIVB7wB3Xu-Ftz_GiLmpfnoMAULO--nfk6B1CEdK4NkCNwmw1CR_MyUU4wctH6f0EV0xjFD2JItQ6QtxqvL4G_6aQRhHPBBq6-jFHpv2a73nHfGLSFAJ39aH8Pep=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mt. Kearsarge on the left. <br />Mt. Sunapee is the right end of the ridge on the horizon.</td></tr></tbody></table>The trail down the mountain followed ski trails and was super easy. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi1F6fMsFKteBX3zqcWYH7b4qlZsoaHSsuWiaIT219IIAE8Kpr0ImhABq4r-IxnhpecM4EcP0TkqmSG0r56vG9x-s2MTnbJEyHWNJGlUrNqI7heieNMx5qqDNZpoYwA-oq3Mw5LxTzKqVAWpx-0tT_cPC4MbNFHNjuTWk1HXRt_d-H42t7GD9jGE_EH=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi1F6fMsFKteBX3zqcWYH7b4qlZsoaHSsuWiaIT219IIAE8Kpr0ImhABq4r-IxnhpecM4EcP0TkqmSG0r56vG9x-s2MTnbJEyHWNJGlUrNqI7heieNMx5qqDNZpoYwA-oq3Mw5LxTzKqVAWpx-0tT_cPC4MbNFHNjuTWk1HXRt_d-H42t7GD9jGE_EH=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Easy ski trails all the way down</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br />This side of the mountain is the domain of Proctor Academy, a boarding school that got its start in 1848. Wikipedia says Proctor Academy is for grades 9-12 and has about 370 students with lots of dorms. The campus includes 2500 acres, including part of the SRK Greenway and some old ski paths. So the land is private and there is strictly no backpack camping. Having said that, at least one thru-hiker has received permission to reserve the Proctor camping facilities. There is a lean-to at Mud Pond (see map below) as well as a small cabin. Contact the Academy if you are interested in that. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh7ZT4GAq7JnDVzTycI-Et2J0WmCH72J-eOQoJ_oDpDDxC9O6y5CGFwexfZzDjx5FcT69ZjQpdCcsejBwv0vKTRt3Vv7UtjkDARyjLybSWh3r6V8b7um2Y7FLY44sgIVqdYkxPEpRXZHF0GcDMYEyZZgb01_GvLn78jtU3LQ4ofJCfuxvTK0IsLeypG=s885" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="885" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh7ZT4GAq7JnDVzTycI-Et2J0WmCH72J-eOQoJ_oDpDDxC9O6y5CGFwexfZzDjx5FcT69ZjQpdCcsejBwv0vKTRt3Vv7UtjkDARyjLybSWh3r6V8b7um2Y7FLY44sgIVqdYkxPEpRXZHF0GcDMYEyZZgb01_GvLn78jtU3LQ4ofJCfuxvTK0IsLeypG=w400-h181" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old-timey skiers at Proctor Academy</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgkyYxBpk-kFx6d9MRFMYRM9__nWTTWlgRFK7tf8GV-xYlqVzwy11x0XMyz1sL13UliZ-D0AOmiAiTdQp2fe_sbODMmyIichXg1YxY45AjMvo0_49Vl-VBxT-w0BZgl6b8sS6P_ik1T9YFiXliaquIy2d2r127RUYUX4uC3dHKwZ22rMEVGXColToUs=s1440" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1440" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgkyYxBpk-kFx6d9MRFMYRM9__nWTTWlgRFK7tf8GV-xYlqVzwy11x0XMyz1sL13UliZ-D0AOmiAiTdQp2fe_sbODMmyIichXg1YxY45AjMvo0_49Vl-VBxT-w0BZgl6b8sS6P_ik1T9YFiXliaquIy2d2r127RUYUX4uC3dHKwZ22rMEVGXColToUs=w400-h400" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Potential for camping permission at Mud Pond<br />(Click to enlarge)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhpl_M0tkEDPwPWul9HuxcQgCIyjbnd6e7SujRav6XJG9beZxYtvsPVwzFq1XwG7xYpUlytGYHYwKrxf1QdD-xle2sn11xbSjhahzj5QyVHibeUEPbF1q4cAZVkPxi0GYb5QZB27eyxDQJSn71ZEei6ShcHUX07WkDbhM8vRUsdp2AqPcELqxyr1I0h=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhpl_M0tkEDPwPWul9HuxcQgCIyjbnd6e7SujRav6XJG9beZxYtvsPVwzFq1XwG7xYpUlytGYHYwKrxf1QdD-xle2sn11xbSjhahzj5QyVHibeUEPbF1q4cAZVkPxi0GYb5QZB27eyxDQJSn71ZEei6ShcHUX07WkDbhM8vRUsdp2AqPcELqxyr1I0h=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking back across Route 4 at Proctor Academy</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After wandering through the Academy parking lot and crossing Route 4, the trail markers directed me onto the Northern Rail Trail for a spell although I later noticed the SRK trail map shows their trail crossing the rail trail and then following the river. Always follow the blazes, not the map, because trails can be relocated after the map is published. And then the Greenway comes to the Keniston Covered Bridge over the Blackwater River. This is the first water I remember seeing since New Canada Road on the far side of Ragged Mountain. By this point is was downright hot and the dog was eager for a swim. I refilled my water bottles, though the water was a bit murky (I found better water later on). <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhl46oD7C_Fc0CCUKH29zeksN26cxOOk9hTY2bQ7C959mPYiyW0MB4El19reNxCPfKFRM_JKTK145K43M8UYhwXC0otlcvX5RiSGuIr82ISeXHoxmUdqr-ojelkdMpJj0WAyjGD6RmaVDFOgxpHPHPD092yrU1g_CdO_053Q5wglisUAjcqLFiN-ra5=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhl46oD7C_Fc0CCUKH29zeksN26cxOOk9hTY2bQ7C959mPYiyW0MB4El19reNxCPfKFRM_JKTK145K43M8UYhwXC0otlcvX5RiSGuIr82ISeXHoxmUdqr-ojelkdMpJj0WAyjGD6RmaVDFOgxpHPHPD092yrU1g_CdO_053Q5wglisUAjcqLFiN-ra5=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Keniston Bridge over the Blackwater River</td></tr></tbody></table>I was expecting a lot of street walking between Ragged Mountain and Mt. Kearsarge based on what the trail looked like, but most of the "roads" are nothing a car can go down. Maybe the occasional 4WD. </div><div><br /></div><div>I didn't have a designated stopping point, other than it had to be a place I could leave a car the next day. I just love the flexibility of slackpacking. I was able to keep going up one old road after another, making fast time and gradually gaining elevation. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi1FOq7SAZnx8oM5Dhcjpis1F-qqm4bLREvJ9TWhPc0J7y6CNIxSeCFy8IZErhOfHP4J_34uCEwcrAgFnTNL6sLf6MQrmiHm7H3luZpihxcZgG2OiCNaaELSYNusddYJLKbEsZwucaXJ70QYAap1ErbgwOMkmBq8AgSbO10KeaaMXxP5_UqiGo5HXxe=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi1FOq7SAZnx8oM5Dhcjpis1F-qqm4bLREvJ9TWhPc0J7y6CNIxSeCFy8IZErhOfHP4J_34uCEwcrAgFnTNL6sLf6MQrmiHm7H3luZpihxcZgG2OiCNaaELSYNusddYJLKbEsZwucaXJ70QYAap1ErbgwOMkmBq8AgSbO10KeaaMXxP5_UqiGo5HXxe=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Easy woods roads heading up the flanks of Kearsarge</td></tr></tbody></table>Near a 4-way junction, I almost missed some old ruins with twin chimneys. Must be some pretty old roads. The dog loved running back and forth and I didn't have to worry about his leash getting tangled in the brush (I use an extend-leash that is bungee chorded to my pack shoulder strap). <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiYjvUcOqWJr2ZpoMPTEf0iNe3RGOAMzj2U96wqzCDAQPJ41mx9PVw4LuwrmZg3pkOgfcEQyotuspyR6VUulNcb9xrMB-RxV0NBIC5CQqOHOGHiX_RdkdY3zTiPRPz6BnDgDwxaSBhouI3UVnY1LJH9wrJvnhUeJTcEE2a_vMZaAjHt-3p9v3-MjxuH=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiYjvUcOqWJr2ZpoMPTEf0iNe3RGOAMzj2U96wqzCDAQPJ41mx9PVw4LuwrmZg3pkOgfcEQyotuspyR6VUulNcb9xrMB-RxV0NBIC5CQqOHOGHiX_RdkdY3zTiPRPz6BnDgDwxaSBhouI3UVnY1LJH9wrJvnhUeJTcEE2a_vMZaAjHt-3p9v3-MjxuH=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Random chimneys along the way</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhR8oNL59aQ-P8tIz261l3l98HpzIKMwAzTNFKLSDUY-X9J7Ehvf0RMbKM1br6NLNyd1K3FMRInGsJEnd9YEAGTMTLoZA0z21A9_lMQZoTOTFSd8kLEmbiIJvyl-1xcZk2TQyg_Z-nCbVilPwpuNGjZqDx5KhpZQu2AAUkbUdhcy_5xO2wy8GcvQQF4=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhR8oNL59aQ-P8tIz261l3l98HpzIKMwAzTNFKLSDUY-X9J7Ehvf0RMbKM1br6NLNyd1K3FMRInGsJEnd9YEAGTMTLoZA0z21A9_lMQZoTOTFSd8kLEmbiIJvyl-1xcZk2TQyg_Z-nCbVilPwpuNGjZqDx5KhpZQu2AAUkbUdhcy_5xO2wy8GcvQQF4=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roadwalk with views of Mt. Kearsarge</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Eventually the trail came out onto actual streets with houses for a short spell before turning up the paved road leading up to Winslow Park. Part way up the road, my husband came by in his SUV. We're able to track each other with our phones, so he knew where I was. I gave him my pack and he gave me something icy cold to drink. How's that for service? This was not a good stopping point, however, so I continued up the hill to the big parking area, where I could leave my car the next morning. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi4B1JWI2JxAM0UM5z5nhH0MyzccoKn3UAHUIlRcLL6vcWLGTlRDaUW3cJuX2sooJP5qbbhCBA9bgY6PILDZFmTQIWfsslImxwVEv6FTE6gJTPycN8klZsJS_Mf7E85lga7RMdu4EDq6xrQiYWZs222NDsjTqzA3WArq6gcb6Dzs28o9Fz0oMNisxdw=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1087" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi4B1JWI2JxAM0UM5z5nhH0MyzccoKn3UAHUIlRcLL6vcWLGTlRDaUW3cJuX2sooJP5qbbhCBA9bgY6PILDZFmTQIWfsslImxwVEv6FTE6gJTPycN8klZsJS_Mf7E85lga7RMdu4EDq6xrQiYWZs222NDsjTqzA3WArq6gcb6Dzs28o9Fz0oMNisxdw=w271-h400" width="271" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Winslow State Park entrance,<br />Mt. Kearsarge peak above</td></tr></tbody></table>Winslow Park was nearly empty, but it clearly gets some big crowds, and the park website had urged people to get reservations. There was no need for that on a weekday in mid-October. There had been an attendant at the gatehouse a bit earlier in the day, according to my husband, but the attendant was gone by the time I got there. The park fee, which they call a "donation", is $4 for each adult. So have some cash handy. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiXGS0JDTIfVKg8Q5n9hlJjMWsTXFUgG1zHJyNQisDi3bpeos4mvvXIw1QbpW7TSXWfMaL_ShrWloXgGoIvelBUb3nwAWXOvMx3g8v3ga1rQxXdjrPBdokbLGGeshYwEItZAGdTVXr3_TksrysdFlucPio5U-iaJiiounOcES9kII-JANtHlosL7Ks1=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1273" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiXGS0JDTIfVKg8Q5n9hlJjMWsTXFUgG1zHJyNQisDi3bpeos4mvvXIw1QbpW7TSXWfMaL_ShrWloXgGoIvelBUb3nwAWXOvMx3g8v3ga1rQxXdjrPBdokbLGGeshYwEItZAGdTVXr3_TksrysdFlucPio5U-iaJiiounOcES9kII-JANtHlosL7Ks1=s320" width="255" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bring cash</td></tr></tbody></table>It was a great spot to end the day. The park facilities are pretty far up Mt. Kearsarge, so there were some great views, and the top of Kearsarge was readily visible above the picnic grounds. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjGGEBVmsxHDVG2D2WVnlmFlBX467geP8jXWGLBHr0GeP981OVNuFxWfHaWsCLaSiTk5K7lSltqO752TZaKPS3RMvi2v33J_X6jVSzv8LFauiWf8g1Yh1LmyF2GYwQ_SzEkU_MwGGn73YUzzTn7FBnMsbNBOVOWH5ySEs_huBBZm4DGtwiPGbgYjFGe=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjGGEBVmsxHDVG2D2WVnlmFlBX467geP8jXWGLBHr0GeP981OVNuFxWfHaWsCLaSiTk5K7lSltqO752TZaKPS3RMvi2v33J_X6jVSzv8LFauiWf8g1Yh1LmyF2GYwQ_SzEkU_MwGGn73YUzzTn7FBnMsbNBOVOWH5ySEs_huBBZm4DGtwiPGbgYjFGe=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Winslow State Park</td></tr></tbody></table><br />We then headed back to the New Hampshire Mountain Inn to pick up my car, and on to an Airbnb called the Mountain House that was just perfect for us. It had a view of Mt. Kearsarge right outside the window, and a little fenced area for the dog. Perfect!</div>Teresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04628471774296555013noreply@blogger.com0620 Ragged Mountain Rd, Danbury, NH 03230, USA43.4854683 -71.842285815.175234463821155 -106.9985358 71.795702136178846 -36.6860358tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410961879681386812.post-47399260568679786532021-10-11T19:34:00.287-04:002022-01-06T14:07:52.103-05:00Ghost Trail: Mt. Cardigan<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj7Fbc_qsBEe9n3bPxZQlSPLiWCVdJhBNOUU_FPvQLwxSb101PW6nhHwJN3i2Hsg9SsaY6CEjMCvLrXMj_HkLLfUMcGwgXfdrjbew4KIjUH0Qy5f3vF5bUhuYiTTbqT_WxA9dR8zjdBTHwCHaiqV5qktidOvWAgVPsC44h-wHla9G86YJAAm0GU6LNS=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj7Fbc_qsBEe9n3bPxZQlSPLiWCVdJhBNOUU_FPvQLwxSb101PW6nhHwJN3i2Hsg9SsaY6CEjMCvLrXMj_HkLLfUMcGwgXfdrjbew4KIjUH0Qy5f3vF5bUhuYiTTbqT_WxA9dR8zjdBTHwCHaiqV5qktidOvWAgVPsC44h-wHla9G86YJAAm0GU6LNS=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's not even that early</td></tr></tbody></table>It was dark with thick fog when I started up Mowglis Trail towards Mt. Cardigan on the second day of this section hike. Fall hiking is great except for all the darkness. If not for the bright yellow blazes, I would have had to just stop along the trail until it got brighter, but those blazes really popped in the headlamp. Many thanks to whoever did the blazing. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgAs2t5XPvlfLsEzvyTsBWnNMTMjYHn4KTL3dRq4tMc53PYjfJBKv6XSuRI1mqnxg2SDeB8sp5qW8mhxH-9EcdWFsMryeeDVG0ijYg_3y8yCA6UfMdx99k8ZnXjf7DA6e9iJsEzPA3CYLv2-SJqHoB5QyyF_NcKTsuBuxlE2OBlgB9MohMc0cR6uihO=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgAs2t5XPvlfLsEzvyTsBWnNMTMjYHn4KTL3dRq4tMc53PYjfJBKv6XSuRI1mqnxg2SDeB8sp5qW8mhxH-9EcdWFsMryeeDVG0ijYg_3y8yCA6UfMdx99k8ZnXjf7DA6e9iJsEzPA3CYLv2-SJqHoB5QyyF_NcKTsuBuxlE2OBlgB9MohMc0cR6uihO=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wow. Not expecting this.</td></tr></tbody></table>Mt. Cardigan had been obscured by low clouds the previous day, so I was assuming there would be no views. Whatever, that's the way it goes. But then it suddenly brightened as I continued up the mountain and climbed out of the fog as the sun was rising. Wow. Just wow. I was not expecting that. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiOGKwSyBtqDpYDAo6YXLJnxd3ByMvZtzVzV2QceIKvKG3P7tDT1IoBsRx1imI0h1AQwDZqy4qu-AKakhJvjmc_8DmGBikBLTv5bXK9PusxvWkDJFW6tWNSbYBxJM8tIJDaKLqD1E2zS8_XuFtLlMTu7pJuYOhlIuHtpG4cp9VvRbaXb8JKlcBDDcCs=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiOGKwSyBtqDpYDAo6YXLJnxd3ByMvZtzVzV2QceIKvKG3P7tDT1IoBsRx1imI0h1AQwDZqy4qu-AKakhJvjmc_8DmGBikBLTv5bXK9PusxvWkDJFW6tWNSbYBxJM8tIJDaKLqD1E2zS8_XuFtLlMTu7pJuYOhlIuHtpG4cp9VvRbaXb8JKlcBDDcCs=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moosilauke is the highest peak in the center</td></tr></tbody></table>I was able to use the Peakfinder app to figure out what I was looking at. Towards the north, a long line of "islands" started with Smarts Mountain on the west. Moosilauke was the tallest of the peaks. The Appalachian Trail follows that ridgeline, and is the alternative to hiking the eastern "Ghost Route" to the Cohos Trail. I have especially fond memories of camping at the top of Smarts Mountain, with an amazing sunset and sunrise and the loudest lightening storm I've ever lived through. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhf43uCRzGlFnrfe5KiD61sxo565Fy1xv8lXUtaP79QG0z6jmN2l3cPpeK8MPaxUcWyMLCGCEAc3_1guijXdAm0djZrWOukTijXsQXMNjXzscYzXCZRb_sXNo6_2QS-a42IYiJqKvTipbXQ2QZJt6XEEp7pHk_FVHC97LTykq4-NJgnPMX__p4tWzFZ=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhf43uCRzGlFnrfe5KiD61sxo565Fy1xv8lXUtaP79QG0z6jmN2l3cPpeK8MPaxUcWyMLCGCEAc3_1guijXdAm0djZrWOukTijXsQXMNjXzscYzXCZRb_sXNo6_2QS-a42IYiJqKvTipbXQ2QZJt6XEEp7pHk_FVHC97LTykq4-NJgnPMX__p4tWzFZ=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The distant ridge starts with Smarts Mtn and<br />the Appalachian Trail</td></tr></tbody></table>Approaching the surreal top of Firescrew Mountain, which is just to the north of Cardigan, I heard voices at the top. But then no one was there, and the voices were actually coming from the top of Cardigan in the distance. That's how loud they were. Why do people have to turn up the volume at each other in these settings? Have some respect for other others and keep the voices down. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhjb2tfTc7fPKW3F0nMzv0ZJiKg2ukG545WRg4-UcTZ8cv8uWSiy8-eOuc8qAyREcbQLJuoJ0pMW2iTarvAUX470z1K4jj4BFV6i8jM2V74comURi7VKmmSERi9vVXr8WODKiQ6IrrZgRUtWu2mk5j-KEGVbWNNi6_REcnko1LiF4ODe_VOu8vYXIV2=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhjb2tfTc7fPKW3F0nMzv0ZJiKg2ukG545WRg4-UcTZ8cv8uWSiy8-eOuc8qAyREcbQLJuoJ0pMW2iTarvAUX470z1K4jj4BFV6i8jM2V74comURi7VKmmSERi9vVXr8WODKiQ6IrrZgRUtWu2mk5j-KEGVbWNNi6_REcnko1LiF4ODe_VOu8vYXIV2=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mt. Cardigan from Firescrew Mountain</td></tr></tbody></table>There was a surprisingly difficult spot heading up Cardigan from Firescrew. It didn't look that difficult, but when I tried to walk up the bald rock, my feet just slid right back down again. And again. And again. The rock was a bit damp, but not wet. I have good boots with Vibram soles. I tried to the left and then to the right, and just could not get my feet to stick to that rock. I finally tried wedging the sides of my boots into a narrow joint in the rock, and that was just enough to get me up the rock. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhJZHzI_uK0tQ0K-NPrG1eOzcNqw_D9JQS-36ICY4_4lIyF5_0dCbOrdVnQ0wwdIYmmfk1rYop7O5wQMn199PurwPmiKyxbXSYabUlz_IO0HsxDxkW0Tf88c4Bp_qe90i566j3tuD7_JcU6fuje7IqbH5BM3UYREWuvz9apy8fTIkjYcHd0FbzoLg4P=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhJZHzI_uK0tQ0K-NPrG1eOzcNqw_D9JQS-36ICY4_4lIyF5_0dCbOrdVnQ0wwdIYmmfk1rYop7O5wQMn199PurwPmiKyxbXSYabUlz_IO0HsxDxkW0Tf88c4Bp_qe90i566j3tuD7_JcU6fuje7IqbH5BM3UYREWuvz9apy8fTIkjYcHd0FbzoLg4P=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking back down at a spot I had trouble getting up</td></tr></tbody></table>The loud obnoxious people were gone from the top of Cardigan by the time I got there, thankfully, and I had the place all to myself. It was amazing. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh6aof8pphw43Zgs12gmANJWcW6MHUmNPyrQ926seCV6pGSTq5_qaIgDsYmikiTK9krx2EEE13pFM3QAqf_w9QtHPnK3F7k9YdkjY9D7YGlOxckyPTHNTXNSDEY3qHAGVGS87WcHeMiPyDC0u7IJzadIy_iW8qIrYO3Gr8eej9hGZ6yqG_vxLVrAQNc=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh6aof8pphw43Zgs12gmANJWcW6MHUmNPyrQ926seCV6pGSTq5_qaIgDsYmikiTK9krx2EEE13pFM3QAqf_w9QtHPnK3F7k9YdkjY9D7YGlOxckyPTHNTXNSDEY3qHAGVGS87WcHeMiPyDC0u7IJzadIy_iW8qIrYO3Gr8eej9hGZ6yqG_vxLVrAQNc=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mt. Cardigan</td></tr></tbody></table>The West Ridge Trail heading down the mountain was mostly bare rock, and the sun refracting off low clouds was making weird rainbow-type displays. Passed another set of hikers TALKING LIKE THIS FOR NO REASON (shhhhhh....I shouldn't be listening to your conversation a quarter mile away) and then came to the junction of Skyland Trail. There was a pretty good stream at this point, which looks like it normally has water. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhJFA9sYjVs8Mfzu2tI9TiKhPRBqi7vchUosaOJrtsRMGg2bycUTQQqkzMT-V_79-XvCYjdYP1iWCF7pYup0HgJLNP8zaUemkg35X-ki5SQmc0uzZXMg1ZsZIMS9YC-R5KmPE_WR6ysSOB7Ei0zDSSNFKKS_mVdAkKK_0al3wX4YFHzkS3tGP5mfA3A=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhJFA9sYjVs8Mfzu2tI9TiKhPRBqi7vchUosaOJrtsRMGg2bycUTQQqkzMT-V_79-XvCYjdYP1iWCF7pYup0HgJLNP8zaUemkg35X-ki5SQmc0uzZXMg1ZsZIMS9YC-R5KmPE_WR6ysSOB7Ei0zDSSNFKKS_mVdAkKK_0al3wX4YFHzkS3tGP5mfA3A=w225-h400" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Skyland Trail</td></tr></tbody></table>Skyland Trail was lovely, in many ways similar to Elwell Trail, but with more bald spots and views. I passed one hiker the entire way. The trail was clear and easy to follow, but not over-used. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh-OZq8yDpNbaVjOqtVegD0jdJzIh02GLDXSipBjcPQ8On-WRoP6agnk06rSWuZu5yg8_Qc299dWEpsdkf9qJ6mMwegTf4yqFJxN4FCEudo7Ze4hI-stvcGjjSXy27UQwLP8MD1pKm1tngnpef6vPYI7Ud5gUIGyTKuYKL9gpg2Ocx60JWM5yE2SBaI=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh-OZq8yDpNbaVjOqtVegD0jdJzIh02GLDXSipBjcPQ8On-WRoP6agnk06rSWuZu5yg8_Qc299dWEpsdkf9qJ6mMwegTf4yqFJxN4FCEudo7Ze4hI-stvcGjjSXy27UQwLP8MD1pKm1tngnpef6vPYI7Ud5gUIGyTKuYKL9gpg2Ocx60JWM5yE2SBaI=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wow. Peak fall color on Skyland Trail. </td></tr></tbody></table>The AMC map for Cardigan only has the first mile or so of Skyland Trail at a useful scale (a small inset area map does show the trail coming down to Wild Meadow Road). Gaia had the first part of the trail right, but the southern end was wildly inaccurate based on the AMC map. So I wasn't quite sure what I would run into, but it was all fine. I did start tracking the route so I could correct it in Open Street Map later. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg-_qHUdvNxSh8lrE8n6KZZGM84bCk_pWurlsE5TUG4TBnaL-Bq_wT1bMjcg8Qc2faDOIn_QqefE4hIHss0xZ4JG1zpOQJFLh5bLYIDDB7UPf_PdFP1EjkilAkaME3h2IfSq14bGXeaKfLgGgN86MuQkVklzJ8V5ntGFWd7uR5X_hVHLoaIBklxGcAt=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg-_qHUdvNxSh8lrE8n6KZZGM84bCk_pWurlsE5TUG4TBnaL-Bq_wT1bMjcg8Qc2faDOIn_QqefE4hIHss0xZ4JG1zpOQJFLh5bLYIDDB7UPf_PdFP1EjkilAkaME3h2IfSq14bGXeaKfLgGgN86MuQkVklzJ8V5ntGFWd7uR5X_hVHLoaIBklxGcAt=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More bald spots on Skyland Trail</td></tr></tbody></table>I understand there were some bad fires in the Cardigan area back in the day, leading to the bald hilltops. Reminded me of Acadia National Park at times, which also had severe fires that removed all the trees and topsoil from the hilltops. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj9tcwzS97SaVyjB6gneeA3tJO1O3phnDEAGVXJoL6nNB8TdRhvtpWoi8r3K_rVaZbSelhHuJWX5SMOQTOLXHXtlsaW_7P7B_U_AE46D9ZHejsbX6QSX3l8FQgapMrdDxwLC9mcssuASDZ0VucnOlXLLOdd3pL5R1ysvrDEo4Cwl8DUK7pdIUJP5ktq=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1253" data-original-width="1600" height="314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj9tcwzS97SaVyjB6gneeA3tJO1O3phnDEAGVXJoL6nNB8TdRhvtpWoi8r3K_rVaZbSelhHuJWX5SMOQTOLXHXtlsaW_7P7B_U_AE46D9ZHejsbX6QSX3l8FQgapMrdDxwLC9mcssuASDZ0VucnOlXLLOdd3pL5R1ysvrDEo4Cwl8DUK7pdIUJP5ktq=w400-h314" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trailhead sign for northbound hikers. <br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>I really wasn't clear about which peak was which while I was hiking it, but there were definitely plenty of ups and downs. In a good way. Southbound, the online maps showed Gillman Mountain, then Crane, Grafton Knob, Church, and Brown Mountain. Gillman Mountain is also called Orange Mountain. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiELJd3Rbcb163O1mXwh_Zy8zUuZioTNJnxPRxcmGcFRq90AmvwzXWl6mD4Ay3oXpmYfqdsaCptmwPb5xA_kAmyuZKDpPN1uSiUF3wE_8dnoa6gq7KSjrFplzS-wzbIDMsIl_NHNg0P1fherAh9a_bJExhxzqngGvUrEh52oG1Pt7UM3eTWmtIimeoB=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiELJd3Rbcb163O1mXwh_Zy8zUuZioTNJnxPRxcmGcFRq90AmvwzXWl6mD4Ay3oXpmYfqdsaCptmwPb5xA_kAmyuZKDpPN1uSiUF3wE_8dnoa6gq7KSjrFplzS-wzbIDMsIl_NHNg0P1fherAh9a_bJExhxzqngGvUrEh52oG1Pt7UM3eTWmtIimeoB=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Four Corners"</td></tr></tbody></table>I hit "Four Corners", the junction of Grafton and Knowles Hill Roads, around lunch time and it was time for a good long road walk. It was about seven miles to Danbury, where I'd get on the Northern Rail Trail. The plan was for my husband to drive up from Connecticut in the morning and find me somewhere along the road, at which point I'd swap a full pack for a day pack, take the dog, and he'd go golfing. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhpgcrsWfNDBcoMsVdjxSEZboNUFDl3ve7j95v_vPzCNRUNj4x3zc7dhqpwlFkViz20kVDW3xWpgdIUSitGcr77vFBua_sfNqVmfY_HgQMjBNzQumEOltj6Ka1tnGlRyQNbLaWLfAcaXCwoRB5GAazwTOYxRGVfWzKLYhrZL0ZSnxNwOpa2nX1kbOPR=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhpgcrsWfNDBcoMsVdjxSEZboNUFDl3ve7j95v_vPzCNRUNj4x3zc7dhqpwlFkViz20kVDW3xWpgdIUSitGcr77vFBua_sfNqVmfY_HgQMjBNzQumEOltj6Ka1tnGlRyQNbLaWLfAcaXCwoRB5GAazwTOYxRGVfWzKLYhrZL0ZSnxNwOpa2nX1kbOPR=w225-h400" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Road walk time!</td></tr></tbody></table>It worked out pretty well. We met up near Grants Pond and had a little tailgate picnic by the side of the road. Then I set off with my somewhat confused dog and my husband sped off to whack some little white balls. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgX9zy1IPNltq8hEtmouTvZh70kgzmGDKDylZtFg4BFsVa_i5-fuD1QMl4piG0JdOLyuZedQfZazIJ2nuCeSXbpn2jeb45W15pak485bvP5QpUAF1wTbPrHloE22XlvMGn8MBIQV-AM17sUrvtcK7EwOzGwwhIPGpo0O3e8Cp6YX7LX-BqSyoyL12t9=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgX9zy1IPNltq8hEtmouTvZh70kgzmGDKDylZtFg4BFsVa_i5-fuD1QMl4piG0JdOLyuZedQfZazIJ2nuCeSXbpn2jeb45W15pak485bvP5QpUAF1wTbPrHloE22XlvMGn8MBIQV-AM17sUrvtcK7EwOzGwwhIPGpo0O3e8Cp6YX7LX-BqSyoyL12t9=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grants Pond</td></tr></tbody></table>The road wasn't too bad, and it was all downhill. But it was a shame to be stuck on a road when you know there's all kinds of forests and mountains on either side of it. I hope some local people decide that this is a worthwhile regional route and find a way off the road. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh_NO319PxlOOZwg5qqNhOhO2K60ce4V4xOc6XpIxBqfTmjpAMw2LKM7bYFmXQ2ycbGV4gd7adsxYo-5HsWYMzcmZ3xqbyVTYyEKVYuziFLeFTDUNkywvZDAFJO7pgoDQp8AWJEYj0XUkr0NcSUY7rvzAuoRWcB7FimJQIZ-q_HFy7QB6F7-kh5lQok=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh_NO319PxlOOZwg5qqNhOhO2K60ce4V4xOc6XpIxBqfTmjpAMw2LKM7bYFmXQ2ycbGV4gd7adsxYo-5HsWYMzcmZ3xqbyVTYyEKVYuziFLeFTDUNkywvZDAFJO7pgoDQp8AWJEYj0XUkr0NcSUY7rvzAuoRWcB7FimJQIZ-q_HFy7QB6F7-kh5lQok=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Northern Rail Trail in Danbury</td></tr></tbody></table>I had hoped to check out Dick's Village Store in Danbury, but I didn't want to try and bring my insane terrier inside. There was a table full of bikers (as in motorcycles) across the street where I expected to find the Northern Rail Trail, so I called out and ask if that was the rail trail there. They said it sure was and motioned for me to come on over, so I did. Seems like maybe the guys get refreshments at the store and hang out at the table next to the trail. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEggaMaMnZS5KjwK_xrjK45tW_0dzLouGblNxuftjSX_-1oeau87clQobecW3_ZHRh9H2_z_D-_mMaERG3J71ZsNsuTe4js2D9Ax2-cYXASPD-wdmpZ5Hra63y73YZCshMairlgpEWJi6vzis_d1tdcXtRMUElVdEsYCkI3m2pHPBpsRvQnwif67wWXv=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEggaMaMnZS5KjwK_xrjK45tW_0dzLouGblNxuftjSX_-1oeau87clQobecW3_ZHRh9H2_z_D-_mMaERG3J71ZsNsuTe4js2D9Ax2-cYXASPD-wdmpZ5Hra63y73YZCshMairlgpEWJi6vzis_d1tdcXtRMUElVdEsYCkI3m2pHPBpsRvQnwif67wWXv=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Northern Rail Trail. And my dog Quinn. </td></tr></tbody></table>This part of the Rail Trail was pretty quiet and I only passed a couple people in five miles. I wasn't going very fast, and was actually limping along with a sore leg, but I manage to get all the way to the SRK Greenway while my husband was golfing. I perhaps should have gotten off the rail trail at the Eagle Pond boat ramp. I went a bit further south looking to cut over to Route 4 and ended up with a short but nasty bushwhack that wasn't worth it. I didn't see the SRK Greenway trail going in there, but I may have simply missed it. Then I headed up New Canada Road, happy to see the distinctive SRK Greenway markers along the road. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgCrSZQxivDdCORZsIYDPdMbUFHw49hp8cz_IgV4r1xNSb18afdzaUeagNQbZTuN8GPDa0bkGbq6bTObxiImLvNIZ3GGZQXmjC50llwhvqHMpoTkLHWWhlxJc15GaVHJ8tB8ueNQyJ9P0MzZmx5i5xgScZcrk_9DbOTjJ3UDRX7Xn2P9ydG253cPvy5=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgCrSZQxivDdCORZsIYDPdMbUFHw49hp8cz_IgV4r1xNSb18afdzaUeagNQbZTuN8GPDa0bkGbq6bTObxiImLvNIZ3GGZQXmjC50llwhvqHMpoTkLHWWhlxJc15GaVHJ8tB8ueNQyJ9P0MzZmx5i5xgScZcrk_9DbOTjJ3UDRX7Xn2P9ydG253cPvy5=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eagle Pond boat launch </td></tr></tbody></table><br />We had reservations at the New Hampshire Mountain Inn, which is on New Canada Road (nineteen miles from where I started that morning) and therefore right on the SRK Greenway. Convenient. Also, they were just about the only place that had a room available on short notice and that allowed dogs. It's one of those old, tastefully quaint inns with small rooms and beautiful decor but no fridge or microwave. There's a finely furnished common room with a TV, but we just wanted to collapse on a bed. A long day!<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiPfqUeeAfJmTx9tjUr4_kS8fM-PmxTUorn7gSOGv4SZrlzFhOIVAJtXKj5hJDdfhzPFFYzpQbzeOSfJLaiUQ9YGhnHImwwnGtm-OJ69PGk7UpnFX_DXRk1iHnxDatZe9fODILUiDCZp5iMhJnVaz39oTdek3rJg9Cl-XN7nq5iKOlPzOfsAaIFkXl_=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiPfqUeeAfJmTx9tjUr4_kS8fM-PmxTUorn7gSOGv4SZrlzFhOIVAJtXKj5hJDdfhzPFFYzpQbzeOSfJLaiUQ9YGhnHImwwnGtm-OJ69PGk7UpnFX_DXRk1iHnxDatZe9fODILUiDCZp5iMhJnVaz39oTdek3rJg9Cl-XN7nq5iKOlPzOfsAaIFkXl_=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New Hampshire Mountain Inn - right on the SRK Greenway</td></tr></tbody></table><br /> <p></p>Teresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04628471774296555013noreply@blogger.com0Mt Cardigan, Orange, NH 03741, USA43.6497949 -71.914804815.339561063821158 -107.0710548 71.960028736178856 -36.7585548tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410961879681386812.post-59515668540050683832021-10-10T18:45:00.001-04:002022-01-10T16:35:32.210-05:00Ghost Trail: Cardigan's Elwell Trail<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj2lVzt89Ic7DCpcmNSc1Lax8TZmtIhXdOO94bvBsrjkd5erbQjDpvQvXYfxbz9tQzNbdfuYOvxH_LtiY2fZB-naZBxN7iLJsLwMm0vmW5YbyiwFrAda62rAosWLp8CJdEQbJiOfsLkxx0Hg0qxuw0zJ-dNjY-YaXeL1WfXH8lVNtUlxSIQ-chr9Bys=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1054" data-original-width="1600" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj2lVzt89Ic7DCpcmNSc1Lax8TZmtIhXdOO94bvBsrjkd5erbQjDpvQvXYfxbz9tQzNbdfuYOvxH_LtiY2fZB-naZBxN7iLJsLwMm0vmW5YbyiwFrAda62rAosWLp8CJdEQbJiOfsLkxx0Hg0qxuw0zJ-dNjY-YaXeL1WfXH8lVNtUlxSIQ-chr9Bys=w400-h264" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">RIP Welton Falls Trail North? <br />(section under the powerlines)</td></tr></tbody></table>Elwell Trail was lovely, but the Welton Falls Trail was another matter. This is an access trail leading from Valley View Road. I had parked at the trailhead after talking with a neighbor a few weeks earlier, headed up the hill with a loaded pack, and enjoyed the view from a mysterious swing before continuing on. It had been a long drive up from Connecticut, and it was so nice to finally be underway. But then the trail was obliterated just a bit beyond the swing. Looked like earthwork for a new house. There was a very small 'no trespassing' sign in front of the earthwork. Argh. Why not post that info at the trailhead? I'd done a lot of research on this trail and talked with a neighbor, driven five hours, and now this? No one was around, and the affected area was maybe 100 feet, so I just walked across it. <div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj2lVUOEiOX0MgL3-bsL8hFNpuVLMdaAuYNLBd9aw7coI7exC5JwX4qtiNkEtwztiXtsRmaO_bjAZYBES4A_qMW-INisqggc0w3AQFMHnVe2oGOrHylwo_Jr36P5c7bqZR3ei3NLvpLoPHZ4KYQEvYaHSvrHsX6xjsgcvJc-JSfDIySXLPmIEgsof7J=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj2lVUOEiOX0MgL3-bsL8hFNpuVLMdaAuYNLBd9aw7coI7exC5JwX4qtiNkEtwztiXtsRmaO_bjAZYBES4A_qMW-INisqggc0w3AQFMHnVe2oGOrHylwo_Jr36P5c7bqZR3ei3NLvpLoPHZ4KYQEvYaHSvrHsX6xjsgcvJc-JSfDIySXLPmIEgsof7J=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elwell Trail was great</td></tr></tbody></table>I suggest northbound hikers look into staying on Elwell Trail past Bear Mountain and get off at Bear Mountain Road, walking into Hebron via West Shore Road. Because Elwell Trail is worth it. The first part had lush regrowth and lots of moose sign after some previous logging. The rest of the trail was a classic ridgeline trail, dipping down into the trees and then up onto bald areas. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgIuNZ9Yy5l4pdUUih6S6zeRfARycgow8bXnrh9EZ7eC0y7fQvMlRhcpxx7tHNpItn0EImuNIdDvvq_7cPci1p7WdRiziu57wJxdjfvGMeeMl1yRwgKvk7vpJUCqd8sXe7B6_jBS0zXu2IGbeNh_55CsLXbocfIeeoxZQLE7LUDpNxL97JTBhKNKOEs=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgIuNZ9Yy5l4pdUUih6S6zeRfARycgow8bXnrh9EZ7eC0y7fQvMlRhcpxx7tHNpItn0EImuNIdDvvq_7cPci1p7WdRiziu57wJxdjfvGMeeMl1yRwgKvk7vpJUCqd8sXe7B6_jBS0zXu2IGbeNh_55CsLXbocfIeeoxZQLE7LUDpNxL97JTBhKNKOEs=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lots of moose sign in here</td></tr></tbody></table>I read on some old blog that AMC was considering closing Elwell Trail, presumably because not many people hike it and maintaining trails is a lot of work. I hope they keep it open. The eastern part appeared seldom-used, and there were a few blowdowns to step around here and there, but nothing significant. And there was always a trail marking when needed. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiAFIOxDlfwyLrp6PfuaDXvtGD4erQbaob14dJrjJBnfUvikPu59__L9l508_hazWba2AKP8EBv9bliyzFUVRZO9dbxn7GUULs-mX-MSLYxV0-sZshz4P_vnOGdDJncrOTWzwR-QxRal0ocbyErM-K3COD-uOFmnfZjB4vNSfKRfDXEMxuNGlrdMQJJ=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1600" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiAFIOxDlfwyLrp6PfuaDXvtGD4erQbaob14dJrjJBnfUvikPu59__L9l508_hazWba2AKP8EBv9bliyzFUVRZO9dbxn7GUULs-mX-MSLYxV0-sZshz4P_vnOGdDJncrOTWzwR-QxRal0ocbyErM-K3COD-uOFmnfZjB4vNSfKRfDXEMxuNGlrdMQJJ=w400-h256" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Golden Pholiota(?) Mushrooms on Beech</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Overall, the trail was moderately easy. Just a few challenging spots to keep things interesting. There were lots of scenic overlooks, but I couldn't really see Mt. Cardigan. That was partly due to the low clouds obscuring the mountain. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEird4vSb5njvz0OocRL-2WowGKhT1QHdu-SToCqgVHB5j6idYVA_e9e5JyEPUaZYz1alZfR-vCBjED8ZlAAWRPfzDZhwVQQa93jE5Gb5WLomP2Im7gaDhpE4TnPr3j9JvQpKLoXUC4HxQ1RcUueJnKrNcbJ4M1MUOMDkOTFMjkEAbEpL9UEo_0SNf_T=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEird4vSb5njvz0OocRL-2WowGKhT1QHdu-SToCqgVHB5j6idYVA_e9e5JyEPUaZYz1alZfR-vCBjED8ZlAAWRPfzDZhwVQQa93jE5Gb5WLomP2Im7gaDhpE4TnPr3j9JvQpKLoXUC4HxQ1RcUueJnKrNcbJ4M1MUOMDkOTFMjkEAbEpL9UEo_0SNf_T=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peak color!</td></tr></tbody></table>It was peak color up there on October 10. I was afraid it might be on the late side, but it was a warm fall and the colors were holding on. Beautiful!<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjA2NQuo9VNL11qEIS4NhTLzq3a_nqCo_YEZKiAAxNvxWMj76ler-l6guzC6pzV_SN2Y9-vpFTvEC7IJG045d3eOj38Aoq5KvU5-RMTDBFfCt4JO1hCSdHJmLECEl0j_BHUBmV_yHFCq9QnyD_QfS6QMamRszAAZ6WML1cbSGM--kXhB2lBxgNwEkLq=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjA2NQuo9VNL11qEIS4NhTLzq3a_nqCo_YEZKiAAxNvxWMj76ler-l6guzC6pzV_SN2Y9-vpFTvEC7IJG045d3eOj38Aoq5KvU5-RMTDBFfCt4JO1hCSdHJmLECEl0j_BHUBmV_yHFCq9QnyD_QfS6QMamRszAAZ6WML1cbSGM--kXhB2lBxgNwEkLq=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking back at Plymouth Mountain</td></tr></tbody></table>It was nice to have legit paper trail maps once again. The trails around Mt. Cardigan are depicted on AMC's Southern New Hampshire Trail Map, which also includes Mt. Monadnock and Mt. Sunapee and Pillsbury State Parks, areas that the NET-Cohos Trail passes through. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgyWsNfJZ-4SSBHXSafxM4uuefHQmqjvx5PgfSzw7-VBsWVpBCnjvHEWJGsUZ9t4ArzDIsA3inQoPg6dvG_JAVn5WOZGnMZ01Tn7XJhIzN-ibiELOBC2QPQsAJmyVGfIOhNV9wcUqmGHIpXKDELr633Pjl6x_QkSSvO7OHI3eTnDjNpSWB4KpqKi1WT=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgyWsNfJZ-4SSBHXSafxM4uuefHQmqjvx5PgfSzw7-VBsWVpBCnjvHEWJGsUZ9t4ArzDIsA3inQoPg6dvG_JAVn5WOZGnMZ01Tn7XJhIzN-ibiELOBC2QPQsAJmyVGfIOhNV9wcUqmGHIpXKDELr633Pjl6x_QkSSvO7OHI3eTnDjNpSWB4KpqKi1WT=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The only people seen all day</td></tr></tbody></table>Continuing west, the trail started to feel more used, and there was a group of young people at one of the overlooks having a great time. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj8zvoxCxMxVwKi261LXn_ngG5SRaETVgLlFigUsvnqHenJs7QIjb4BgGIAxB8tULE7Qw-4x_ZbCbZL2c7bNy6Xg4T2uykUHScDU0CDnvr0NJOhTZiiGRp20Fox1ML9E1lJBa3SgZZmczsBueSuo8dtKfGMgkSZer9YKJwxQFgXYiJrrjvoyuyg_vq1=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1043" data-original-width="1600" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj8zvoxCxMxVwKi261LXn_ngG5SRaETVgLlFigUsvnqHenJs7QIjb4BgGIAxB8tULE7Qw-4x_ZbCbZL2c7bNy6Xg4T2uykUHScDU0CDnvr0NJOhTZiiGRp20Fox1ML9E1lJBa3SgZZmczsBueSuo8dtKfGMgkSZer9YKJwxQFgXYiJrrjvoyuyg_vq1=w400-h261" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reindeer moss and cairns on the bald areas</td></tr></tbody></table>Eventually Elwell Trail dips down off the ridge to the south, while the Oregon Mountain Trail stays up on the ridge, pretty much parallel to Elwell Trail. I stuck with the ridge hike and was glad for it. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg5hm37Y1Afd5ZRy9_jeWmxU0VkzIXW7jGYiiziH7HnUH3uoHvv4WULh8i_xovkPMMDU6GJz0dj9fLdPBHM5yptZCfLzeyV-f_JK7Mm_-_WOIJ0tIeAnAsmrYhAz0OYYRS0DvAqpihWYFK2PCHKjkzuFmwavQbAwZdUSk8w9FsSJeyLgcgiQAPY4dT2=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1030" data-original-width="1600" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg5hm37Y1Afd5ZRy9_jeWmxU0VkzIXW7jGYiiziH7HnUH3uoHvv4WULh8i_xovkPMMDU6GJz0dj9fLdPBHM5yptZCfLzeyV-f_JK7Mm_-_WOIJ0tIeAnAsmrYhAz0OYYRS0DvAqpihWYFK2PCHKjkzuFmwavQbAwZdUSk8w9FsSJeyLgcgiQAPY4dT2=w400-h258" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Digressing onto the Oregon Mtn Trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEizHZ27IKwK_0Hrydv4O5Olb-rrBffJLKwS6LV5xEe1W58ld_ItKw4cSzEXphRN0G_WC2pF93SH1tGseBvvRP-4SnRvoRzoR_7kmDGQLkPfZC2yAw5pzSVwAv4mwzkhfG6wbRxB-YxujJcZ45wTXB24mUVvwCgbKNW0W-JLLxXkepL81x5z3QVCjLAA=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEizHZ27IKwK_0Hrydv4O5Olb-rrBffJLKwS6LV5xEe1W58ld_ItKw4cSzEXphRN0G_WC2pF93SH1tGseBvvRP-4SnRvoRzoR_7kmDGQLkPfZC2yAw5pzSVwAv4mwzkhfG6wbRxB-YxujJcZ45wTXB24mUVvwCgbKNW0W-JLLxXkepL81x5z3QVCjLAA=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oregon Mountain was lovely</td></tr></tbody></table>There don't seem to be any "reliable" water sources up on the ridge, but I was able to catch some drinking water here and there. When those spots dry up, backpackers probably need to head down the Back 80 trail to a beaver pond. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiCIn0LoODY0r69fbHPKskam8UVq9WkYXqkn3ygV3vho61SAm65d-mXrfy9BTcF2zyQITEUZYqGIOzDL8WdlB46WLgOETWLd2OgPHtcznei1WK5YKvsaAJzEGkCQvClZodKzHLG7pNZDt6urLAbF38LzYcTIp_pxYHzqUZd6ykRHXujkDLK2YcHAX0T=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiCIn0LoODY0r69fbHPKskam8UVq9WkYXqkn3ygV3vho61SAm65d-mXrfy9BTcF2zyQITEUZYqGIOzDL8WdlB46WLgOETWLd2OgPHtcznei1WK5YKvsaAJzEGkCQvClZodKzHLG7pNZDt6urLAbF38LzYcTIp_pxYHzqUZd6ykRHXujkDLK2YcHAX0T=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking south over the beaver pond, a source of water</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Legal camping spots include a big tenting area to the south off of the mountain, and Crag Shelter, which is up on the ridge north of Cardigan and Firescrew along Mowglis Trail. I was headed in that direction. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgcIz4OaGDkNC2FrnHruvEubDtmcmo2TaSjgYhrXEiI5tblGTlmOkWlLQYavbIutoRVbjQ5tf6eJ8OiUQ5L9i6kO9m-lM-GAYz1CgTIlF_iiNo9Nsdp_n9aWcHLHVL5poQWJkI18fN9ANaTchNf6DVEZ9lCx2BRzSGdqEfXcV_Jz2K4h9YkUE2JERF2=s1360" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1360" data-original-width="1085" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgcIz4OaGDkNC2FrnHruvEubDtmcmo2TaSjgYhrXEiI5tblGTlmOkWlLQYavbIutoRVbjQ5tf6eJ8OiUQ5L9i6kO9m-lM-GAYz1CgTIlF_iiNo9Nsdp_n9aWcHLHVL5poQWJkI18fN9ANaTchNf6DVEZ9lCx2BRzSGdqEfXcV_Jz2K4h9YkUE2JERF2=w319-h400" width="319" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hobblebush heavily cropped by moose</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Hanging up my bear bag, I got my gear tangled up a bit in some Hobblebush. It was really chewed up. If you look at it closely, you can see where moose have been cropping it down repeatedly (above photo). <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg1i0qMWrSSgpvC1lY39UecEFiNnUW-z2sHy1XMB9u0t78QNeLJnwOecdMEvpGjkBQNFEJKfqcqP7lfvj08-bnufo3Il4P5MPC6H21pIeIUsLje3FsvU87XTq4ULlWcWeu936U97Oc3H_Q159xifzXC8QarBwqejKfOmCw1HRqG4BmkqNakYPQ254Hg=s1600" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1181" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg1i0qMWrSSgpvC1lY39UecEFiNnUW-z2sHy1XMB9u0t78QNeLJnwOecdMEvpGjkBQNFEJKfqcqP7lfvj08-bnufo3Il4P5MPC6H21pIeIUsLje3FsvU87XTq4ULlWcWeu936U97Oc3H_Q159xifzXC8QarBwqejKfOmCw1HRqG4BmkqNakYPQ254Hg=w295-h400" width="295" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bear bag over Hobblebush<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>What a lovely hike. Very peaceful, and beauty all around. <br /><br /></div>Teresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04628471774296555013noreply@blogger.com0Oregon Mountain, Alexandria, NH 03222, USA43.6770169 -71.870359415.366783063821153 -107.0266094 71.987250736178851 -36.7141094tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410961879681386812.post-56976468770778323252021-09-25T18:25:00.543-04:002021-11-23T16:29:49.498-05:00Ghost Trail: Plymouth to Hebron<p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih78wu3W2LpTeif5UYf1_m1Rvtx0HaHWUFWITiO9LIV2stAii2el2Ovd9-pF4X-lcxEGGiXG_l5bGnjui6naraJSlFjDxs48_nMnkgYL3iFd8_O81pYT1Mmhcm0vdjFLUMsILpEwxE-Os/s878/Chrome+Legacy+Window+11222021+100013+AM.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="828" data-original-width="878" height="378" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih78wu3W2LpTeif5UYf1_m1Rvtx0HaHWUFWITiO9LIV2stAii2el2Ovd9-pF4X-lcxEGGiXG_l5bGnjui6naraJSlFjDxs48_nMnkgYL3iFd8_O81pYT1Mmhcm0vdjFLUMsILpEwxE-Os/w400-h378/Chrome+Legacy+Window+11222021+100013+AM.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Overview map from Gaia, with Plymouth Mtn Trail added</td></tr></tbody></table><br />This next section of the Ghost Trail had the greatest uncertainty. Everything north of Plymouth was on AMC's White Mountain National Forest trail maps. But the only trail maps I could find for the Plymouth Mountain area were online maps like Gaia that are based on user data of questionable accuracy entered onto OpenStreetMap. These maps showed trails going up and over North and South Peak, then up Plymouth Mountain via the Sutherland Trail. No further trails were on the map after that, but there was rumored to be another trail going down the mountain that I hoped to find. I'd done as much armchair research as I could about these various trails, but I was mentally prepared for things to fall apart and was happy to be day-hiking and not backpacking. <br /><br /><b>Notice for thru-hikers:</b> There is no camping allowed anywhere between Plymouth and Hebron. The trails cross private property the entire way. There are accommodations available in both Hebron and Plymouth ($$$). <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUg2BntT_l8dTQFl_h_wvBX02rtROnkbpgX0HWcSMcrOB3mTumzfSSGJ2Pc4Chyphenhyphen5psIkTqCymqFpUYzeR-bGzFmQnEPHKMCF9YzoCvyS_4B-jp6i9qudP56EX612EjD_AYOTzwCGknnhk/s1600/0925210809a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUg2BntT_l8dTQFl_h_wvBX02rtROnkbpgX0HWcSMcrOB3mTumzfSSGJ2Pc4Chyphenhyphen5psIkTqCymqFpUYzeR-bGzFmQnEPHKMCF9YzoCvyS_4B-jp6i9qudP56EX612EjD_AYOTzwCGknnhk/w400-h225/0925210809a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trailhead parking pulloff on Texas Hill Road</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi15xYyHXnEVOIaC13UZ7RweZMQnW2imAigSFvvDhVutvlGPvFRv1XKs4Q_rY2DwMK-kdgAZY53Oz5I0LnYMl4KyBY6ifggezVO9r5msY9ZrRPgSkM7cEU6CS-9Nmdsp-wkhuPDXqLV_ro/s1487/0925210811.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1487" data-original-width="1101" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi15xYyHXnEVOIaC13UZ7RweZMQnW2imAigSFvvDhVutvlGPvFRv1XKs4Q_rY2DwMK-kdgAZY53Oz5I0LnYMl4KyBY6ifggezVO9r5msY9ZrRPgSkM7cEU6CS-9Nmdsp-wkhuPDXqLV_ro/w148-h200/0925210811.jpg" width="148" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look for this pole</td></tr></tbody></table>The first challenge was parking in Plymouth. Do not attempt to leave a car all day or overnight in the business district. Every inch is covered with signs restricting how long you can park there. I went up the next street (Russell) and parked in front of some rundown houses that look like rentals for college students. They'll never complain about a car parked out front.<div><br /></div><div>The second challenge was finding the supposed trailhead for what Gaia called the Fauver East Trail. There are no trail signs or other markings, and the trailhead is easy to miss. Gaia had it correct, though. Walking southwest on Texas Hill Road out of Plymouth, the trailhead was located near the top of a steep rise, with enough space on the left for maybe two cars to pull over. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5ySakr2SYHQGXO4VHbMRidK4ns0Ql4TdU7DJ-Q5LdXzJ2WDhkc51FCsU8HzP0s6w_3Q0KxnDx79d_T6WMi4vfUxjtvT_y0wXM1gRX1WYmbB2x5v7vQutmVB4uEKoRoLDzVrP0hy5Izlw/s1600/0925210811b.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5ySakr2SYHQGXO4VHbMRidK4ns0Ql4TdU7DJ-Q5LdXzJ2WDhkc51FCsU8HzP0s6w_3Q0KxnDx79d_T6WMi4vfUxjtvT_y0wXM1gRX1WYmbB2x5v7vQutmVB4uEKoRoLDzVrP0hy5Izlw/w225-h400/0925210811b.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trail as seen from the pavement</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The section between Texas Hill Road and North Peak was tricky to figure out. There is in fact an unmarked trail where Gaia said the Fauver East Trail would be, But there are also other trails intertwined with this because the mountain bikers have taken over and it's just confusing. I don't know what the history of this trail section is. Maybe there used to be an old hiking trail used by the fine people of Plymouth to get to Plymouth Mountain, but then some mountain biking college students discovered the hill. It's private property, no conservation easements or whatever, and I fear some day there will be new houses shutting down access. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg30kgNjbWDYWCKLX3guC57jdwOhhl-nVMmsvZ4DjQNIE63RaVwY4y4veD2HSkJN1QQwY4J7Sp0rXPhIeog9GFOvLIwwnTWKidkHs_co0HWanA_qgnxufBOmU2SV-vyChTbpDYWIQ885Es/s833/Chrome+Legacy+Window+11222021+94829+AM.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="833" data-original-width="623" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg30kgNjbWDYWCKLX3guC57jdwOhhl-nVMmsvZ4DjQNIE63RaVwY4y4veD2HSkJN1QQwY4J7Sp0rXPhIeog9GFOvLIwwnTWKidkHs_co0HWanA_qgnxufBOmU2SV-vyChTbpDYWIQ885Es/w299-h400/Chrome+Legacy+Window+11222021+94829+AM.jpg" width="299" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><br />I took several wrong turns following the mountain bike paths, but it was nothing too bad. Pay close attention along this section, however, and refer to an online map or a compass. In the southbound direction, heading up the hill on any trail would probably work fine. Just be sure to go uphill and double back if a trail starts heading the wrong way. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAOiQ0P8z_0oAUZXh0h-8KvUnk7ILHXrWd1wJF63PNtOIb1fCNVwVPJsKW7zQzTNL5UMfjU3zvf6fRhqB6ptfelg45ar2_0NKF-DahdTvI4PyW6h5zqlCICA3fLnVivLQNGkbiLtwZWns/s1600/0925210825.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAOiQ0P8z_0oAUZXh0h-8KvUnk7ILHXrWd1wJF63PNtOIb1fCNVwVPJsKW7zQzTNL5UMfjU3zvf6fRhqB6ptfelg45ar2_0NKF-DahdTvI4PyW6h5zqlCICA3fLnVivLQNGkbiLtwZWns/w400-h225/0925210825.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mountain bikers have created lots of trails near Texas Hill Rd.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />At the top of North Peak, the trail came to a "T" with blue markings going both left and right. I took a left and followed the blazes down the hill, checking Gaia from time to time to see if I was on the correct route, because I had no idea if the blue markers were for the trail I was trying to follow, or some other trail not shown on the maps. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUaBY3f7LaMgHZD5jzlkPYmbE1jwTJjhY8xxVlaO_zk4CiT84PPAr6JbcqUvwqSOfphxEanqGqb0pByKrABiU3PRwriPbbiSjW1NL-iZwR5h1_NOA01cI44dt8D_N1oDS5_iFsfwWG1h4/s1600/0925210903.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUaBY3f7LaMgHZD5jzlkPYmbE1jwTJjhY8xxVlaO_zk4CiT84PPAr6JbcqUvwqSOfphxEanqGqb0pByKrABiU3PRwriPbbiSjW1NL-iZwR5h1_NOA01cI44dt8D_N1oDS5_iFsfwWG1h4/w400-h225/0925210903.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fauver East Trail has blue markers south of North Peak</td></tr></tbody></table><br />At some point I did, in fact, find myself well off the designated route, and went bushwhacking for where I was supposed to be. What I found was a trace of an old trail, marked by old logs that had been cut. I followed that for a bit and suddenly found myself back on the blue-marked trail, which had bent back in my direction. After that, I just followed the blue markers. The online maps don't have the Fauver East Trail quite right, but it's in the ballpark. Just stick with the blue markings. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSilnc4TK3pGRPPmDhtyIMNPcBjXhw5f6EH0gCv1p6eT-fWJ89OPseiFGIAm7rKDsgSA6POmhWIVw1j5lNEPntWSO5xvHJQtegSzr4xVv6wuvPx3pY_AAqWuhhB-_IMqojgH7mJ0IrZoo/s1600/0925210940a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSilnc4TK3pGRPPmDhtyIMNPcBjXhw5f6EH0gCv1p6eT-fWJ89OPseiFGIAm7rKDsgSA6POmhWIVw1j5lNEPntWSO5xvHJQtegSzr4xVv6wuvPx3pY_AAqWuhhB-_IMqojgH7mJ0IrZoo/w400-h225/0925210940a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Porcupine</td></tr></tbody></table>There weren't any real views on either North or South Peak. But it was nice terrain and I got to see a porcupine scurry up a tree. The descend from South Peak was quick, and there was a kiosk at the bottom with a map of the trail system. Wish I had that earlier. Everything made sense after that. Coming from the north, I'd intercepted the blue markings about where the "D" is at the top of the map. Interesting how the trail abruptly stops part way down the hill to the northwest. There's a story there I bet. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-skTkHjVZrpq7xjqANK-AHLklhqG0qE8QPbkWw4doN5C03JomyJZAXFN3p00XnZetfBeHWfx8ABkoynCe7q_VCfuqfBjx7nagXelgz9ifY5s4Uj8hMagRGztFPXjiBA6bOc9t5sLtIbU/s1600/0925210954.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1287" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-skTkHjVZrpq7xjqANK-AHLklhqG0qE8QPbkWw4doN5C03JomyJZAXFN3p00XnZetfBeHWfx8ABkoynCe7q_VCfuqfBjx7nagXelgz9ifY5s4Uj8hMagRGztFPXjiBA6bOc9t5sLtIbU/w321-h400/0925210954.jpg" width="321" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Map at the kiosk</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv_g0iS0SCrKQlehk6j6LUK2kgHtdzRaoEvEsMPr54K-Zb4JtfBXGDMHpkHX1h5sNphQYgTya3epc6jL09WcXDD3rZUYULFV14AvsgYwPztt76Yd4Mhyphenhyphen8qD8Ldwj82xycls6hxRaoeJGY/s1600/0925211002.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv_g0iS0SCrKQlehk6j6LUK2kgHtdzRaoEvEsMPr54K-Zb4JtfBXGDMHpkHX1h5sNphQYgTya3epc6jL09WcXDD3rZUYULFV14AvsgYwPztt76Yd4Mhyphenhyphen8qD8Ldwj82xycls6hxRaoeJGY/w400-h225/0925211002.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fauver East Trailhead looking northbound</td></tr></tbody></table>After a quick roadwalk, there's a big hiker parking area for a trail going up Plymouth Mountain. A big sign out front declares that parking is for daytime use only. Another prominent sign lets you know that you're on "Conservation Easement Land" privately-owned but open to walking, hunting, and other non-motorized pedestrian recreation, but no camping or fires. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheTRSydybZT0-615LMfcoxhruY4F_idrIqG7lzgXvU8NT4fMl0Di777QBSSTRRCClpzkgjRJIZe5UNLX9KuqBSJr7u7GYo5Gc4nugWqRoGJ__p3Nd6o3wmbeug3HRMSaC5v8UllhLakNQ/s1600/0925211032.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheTRSydybZT0-615LMfcoxhruY4F_idrIqG7lzgXvU8NT4fMl0Di777QBSSTRRCClpzkgjRJIZe5UNLX9KuqBSJr7u7GYo5Gc4nugWqRoGJ__p3Nd6o3wmbeug3HRMSaC5v8UllhLakNQ/w225-h400/0925211032.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading up Plymouth Mtn</td></tr></tbody></table><br />This was an easy hike up Plymouth Mountain on a well-worn, yellow-blazed trail, that was never steep. There was only one car in the lot there, so the trail was pretty quiet. It starts out as Fauver Link Trail and then turns into Sutherland Trail after crossing a road.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJFVhZtuWT2Q5mKJ9ZIsHqk6snNpRK7FuzYGU4wsEflU_MlTesB8Eh8Jd2nbAZruOPwGGe3h9adkUr5w9NeBdxQfrM8ZIs0gTajVwNQFmpYvkQgBdeCcrosoFta7x-0Tbz92rgYX6L6M8/s1600/0925211132.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1070" data-original-width="1600" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJFVhZtuWT2Q5mKJ9ZIsHqk6snNpRK7FuzYGU4wsEflU_MlTesB8Eh8Jd2nbAZruOPwGGe3h9adkUr5w9NeBdxQfrM8ZIs0gTajVwNQFmpYvkQgBdeCcrosoFta7x-0Tbz92rgYX6L6M8/w400-h268/0925211132.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Junction with an overlook spur</td></tr></tbody></table>Near the top, there's a spectacular overlook of the White Mountains at the end of a short spur well-marked with a sign to "Pike's Peak." You can look straight up I-93 and Franconia Notch through the White Mountain and other points East. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI5lgn3YmT6jploFsHpRP4qfEUXJ_an4HS3IV0OuE1L-GQIyXMBd9Kwbm92tjD3fObCkgfqVjVFV6BI_WhiFIU-YHXUdpzWOyP_pljKskT53WdlcDGFZl-Z4OHfXOp6QQHOIcECO2cIWU/s1600/0925211135_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI5lgn3YmT6jploFsHpRP4qfEUXJ_an4HS3IV0OuE1L-GQIyXMBd9Kwbm92tjD3fObCkgfqVjVFV6BI_WhiFIU-YHXUdpzWOyP_pljKskT53WdlcDGFZl-Z4OHfXOp6QQHOIcECO2cIWU/w400-h225/0925211135_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking north up I-93 towards the White Mountains</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Sutherland Trail continues for another quarter mile past the overlook junction to a marker at the summit. There was a false summit right at the beginning with a cairn -- don't be fooled. This last quarter mile is much more rugged with lots of exposed bedrock underfoot. A returning hiker warned me to be careful because the rock was slippery. I laughed inside my head, because this was nothing compared to backpacking the Crawford Ridgepole Trail in the rain the other day. This rock was dry. But yes, you could still slip on some steep sections even when it's dry. </div><div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQCS53BIVENoVyXKNgtPAHG4bu9VwC_CzWyxA1FTeimwoAOMcqwncviNXW_Efvn2M_UE9i5zvhe4bXPrvElaaDOm9DIncqHlYFh7iP1KfCJm53NPpuqNNht08kxtXhwO-hWaLHyMQdYRA/s1600/0925211159.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1053" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQCS53BIVENoVyXKNgtPAHG4bu9VwC_CzWyxA1FTeimwoAOMcqwncviNXW_Efvn2M_UE9i5zvhe4bXPrvElaaDOm9DIncqHlYFh7iP1KfCJm53NPpuqNNht08kxtXhwO-hWaLHyMQdYRA/w264-h400/0925211159.jpg" width="264" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What's next?</td></tr></tbody></table>I'm not sure if there was another lookout beyond the cairn. There may have been. I was much more focused on finding this phantom "Plymouth Mountain Trail" heading down the west side of the mountain. There was also reportedly a third trail going southwest down the mountain to Camp Mowglis on the shore of Newfound Lake, but that was said to be private. So I needed to get on the correct trail. After much online searching, I had found a map image showing the general location of Plymouth Mountain Trail, and was also able to confirm that this trail actually existed and might have some occasional markings with wolves. But reports differed wildly on how easy it was to follow. Everything from easy to impossible. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_7CzxUukfNFvd0gc0TYvLkCDqB6ZUXtKsQLQLrPyt3o4YoSC886lDu2oeRotBzcff2hGOGi9t3ig6OVSU4LWjRsxr-l-QEq0k_3cKekFyL-QyYa7TL5hTRmX4NQCoxasCNt6Y8ue2g7g/s1600/0925211302a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_7CzxUukfNFvd0gc0TYvLkCDqB6ZUXtKsQLQLrPyt3o4YoSC886lDu2oeRotBzcff2hGOGi9t3ig6OVSU4LWjRsxr-l-QEq0k_3cKekFyL-QyYa7TL5hTRmX4NQCoxasCNt6Y8ue2g7g/w400-h225/0925211302a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Plymouth Mountain Trail</td></tr></tbody></table>Piece of cake. The trail was obvious right from the summit marker and was generally easy to follow even without blazing. There were a few adorable wolf markers facing hikers going uphill, just enough to provide confidence that it was a real hiking trail. In some ways it was easy to walk that the Sutherland Trail because it wasn't eroded. There was a partial view of distance mountains about half way down. Best part of the day. It wasn't until the trail got near the bottom that a few spots might be tricky to navigate, especially if you're going uphill. There's a right turn (in the uphill direction) off a snowmobile trail. Keep an eye out for that. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicJVIvmWyFnuLcFtCCgeLhjG75O0cVOxXEPITrvd0SWcoz8rZYt0NHitViNq4wJKuT6bUuUKHhebi9vD3w987OFfKv3mV3UtjQxJ_QvipQCEQNjtQArmm1mz__0D8Ousqq3o-NLi1dtmw/s1134/Chrome+Legacy+Window+11222021+95919+AM.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="726" data-original-width="1134" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicJVIvmWyFnuLcFtCCgeLhjG75O0cVOxXEPITrvd0SWcoz8rZYt0NHitViNq4wJKuT6bUuUKHhebi9vD3w987OFfKv3mV3UtjQxJ_QvipQCEQNjtQArmm1mz__0D8Ousqq3o-NLi1dtmw/w400-h256/Chrome+Legacy+Window+11222021+95919+AM.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">GPS record of Plymouth Mtn Trail</td></tr></tbody></table>I recorded a gps track and added that to OpenStreetMap for future hikers (Gaia, AllTrails, and other mapping programs use OpenStreetMap data for their basemaps). The trail ended in the form of a grassy snowmobile trail that came to a "T" with a 4WD section of Pike Hill Road. After continuing downhill on the Pike Hill Road for 0.1 mile, it converted to real street. This was at a hairpin curve in the street, with a bridge over a nice brook just beyond that. There was a tight spot to park on each side of the bridge. The limited parking may be why Plymouth Mountain Trail is not promoted. If you are northbound on Pike Hill Road, follow it over the brook to the hairpin curve, ignore the curve, and go straight onto the 4WD road until you see a snowmobile trail going off to the right. In 2021, there were a couple snowmobile signs on a tree immediately after the turn, but one was falling off. That's the beginning of Plymouth Mountain Trail. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVGFrK3yPyDYXc7REoKWEb1BLsu935Vf45jy7GgRBMUHLdQRX9lxW5kmMtkx-MGdtaCDFTNEe-sIGX3lnOkZpguRTjX685Nr4Kw9ZmmLLgt2wldb3ALEmIQwODOJ13tFIaIJPbPFr3llc/s1600/0925211307.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVGFrK3yPyDYXc7REoKWEb1BLsu935Vf45jy7GgRBMUHLdQRX9lxW5kmMtkx-MGdtaCDFTNEe-sIGX3lnOkZpguRTjX685Nr4Kw9ZmmLLgt2wldb3ALEmIQwODOJ13tFIaIJPbPFr3llc/w400-h225/0925211307.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Plymouth Mountain Trailhead on Pike Hill Road</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The rest was all uneventful road walking. There was a construction site along Pike Hill Road with a great view of Mt Cardigan, Newfound Lake, and the ridge leading to Cardigan. That would be my next trip to New Hampshire. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFw7Z_8-OrllF8ZOyK-dGjBFIxCuSeiOHb1VRjEDNURGWK7Zcr6_LpOwzNzoYSkuF4xT3zBQHHTcmVYDGIuVJmX8jXeo1nVQDyfH3BaK5GvOFoKWY3omzwSeTgwehYQ64djK4aHnl7-1E/s1600/0925211329.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFw7Z_8-OrllF8ZOyK-dGjBFIxCuSeiOHb1VRjEDNURGWK7Zcr6_LpOwzNzoYSkuF4xT3zBQHHTcmVYDGIuVJmX8jXeo1nVQDyfH3BaK5GvOFoKWY3omzwSeTgwehYQ64djK4aHnl7-1E/w400-h225/0925211329.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mt. Cardigan as seen from Pike Hill Road</td></tr></tbody></table>The Hebron and Newfound Lake area was a real contrast to the Plymouth area. The former had seen better days, while Hebron was shining and spotless. There was no problem walking along the highway here. The shoulder was plenty wide enough. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1YGNrYylS7Oxgt1KdXN9d0qAA1dN5WgVMaYEfiDWv1wAwp4kqXuFjE3ll-gv2jVY_fnS_E6fhJQzVRCGZ_MS8SvUjMrpZvFL44pOHkYdCmZSXDwvuCmHRj4HkxIzIQCvZx96ketgWAgQ/s1600/0925211407.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1YGNrYylS7Oxgt1KdXN9d0qAA1dN5WgVMaYEfiDWv1wAwp4kqXuFjE3ll-gv2jVY_fnS_E6fhJQzVRCGZ_MS8SvUjMrpZvFL44pOHkYdCmZSXDwvuCmHRj4HkxIzIQCvZx96ketgWAgQ/w400-h225/0925211407.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Newfound Lake</td></tr></tbody></table>We had agreed to meet at the Newfound Audubon Center. A woodland trail lead down to the water, where sections of a dock had been stacked up for the winter. It was delightful, so we had a picnic lunch there and watched the boats go by. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju_96AjJF7SPvCex_9jYcPBRgDi0w83KUYyHAT6e9BKJb5ejx2ftRDBdyvFzKgFFu_oFuvnExqClBFy1rvHcHlO2n-QWs6bzoiBWFBSwxxKk5S-bNuVJRfcHd5zkSwKbq5_-vIACXzPi0/s1600/0925211428_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju_96AjJF7SPvCex_9jYcPBRgDi0w83KUYyHAT6e9BKJb5ejx2ftRDBdyvFzKgFFu_oFuvnExqClBFy1rvHcHlO2n-QWs6bzoiBWFBSwxxKk5S-bNuVJRfcHd5zkSwKbq5_-vIACXzPi0/w400-h225/0925211428_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Audubon Center at Newfound Lake</td></tr></tbody></table>At this point I still didn't know exactly where my next Ghost Trail section would start, other than somewhere in the Hebron area. I needed to find a place I could leave my car for a few days. I had thought that maybe I could get permission from the Audubon people to leave me car there for the price of a donation, but the building was closed. Maybe there was some place in the Hebron center where I could get permission. Or maybe the Welton Falls trailhead. So we hopped in the car in search of potential parking. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcCSKAPd7_16Gl5ZN9sni8za9MMMjNzrWt4Ejvi2-8A4n3T7sz8wh0-7hbNkB_um8St-uqUmsmnBtcu5Bv79zdRQ4DitrLYYHvT-2NtUbTcnERZb3i0oZfgbmW2qhnFOQPx_BsSlLe9WA/s1600/0925211614_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcCSKAPd7_16Gl5ZN9sni8za9MMMjNzrWt4Ejvi2-8A4n3T7sz8wh0-7hbNkB_um8St-uqUmsmnBtcu5Bv79zdRQ4DitrLYYHvT-2NtUbTcnERZb3i0oZfgbmW2qhnFOQPx_BsSlLe9WA/w400-h225/0925211614_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hebron Village Store and Post Office</td></tr></tbody></table>We stopped at the Hebron Village Store, which was tiny even though the building was pretty big. There's also a Post Office. Thru hikers should not expect much here. They did have a few tables for eating in. It's set in a super quaint New England historic district where every building is tastefully white and no blade of grass is out of place. </div><div><br /></div><div>We then searched for the Welton Falls Trail on Valley View Road. We couldn't see anything and I finally stopped and asked a woman walking by if she knew where the trail was. She said there used to be a sign across from a flat grassy area where we were looking and people parked there all the time and went hiking. So we drove past the area a few more times scratching our heads. After a bit, this nice woman flagged us down, said she just talked to her neighbor, and yes, the trail was right in the spot we were looking. Just park on the grass and go up the hill. Okey doke. I gave it a shot, and did indeed find a trace of a path going up the steep open hill full of grass and ferns right where Gaia said it would be. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisnK_VYEkb8PPaUKJDm1AHrzqx0AUNRefae3SnVNjbEFIgNMKDqk28SUptcZidGmcDPbDiwdlpkVJS5MH9M3IXbw2cBJI00QCj2_o2T9pYrVxCp7mtivur-7csULjvP4bUGt2zFHrGFPc/s1600/0925211539_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisnK_VYEkb8PPaUKJDm1AHrzqx0AUNRefae3SnVNjbEFIgNMKDqk28SUptcZidGmcDPbDiwdlpkVJS5MH9M3IXbw2cBJI00QCj2_o2T9pYrVxCp7mtivur-7csULjvP4bUGt2zFHrGFPc/w400-h225/0925211539_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The beginning of Welton Falls Trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The trail came up to a swing at an overlook, which was weird. But I could see a path going off into the woods where Gaia said it would, so it seemed correct. And it was. But I later discovered some construction on the trail just a bit further on and I don't know if this trail is open any longer. Maybe that's why the sign is no longer down by the trailhead. But that's for a later post. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji1yxtIhzhRzVaY71ybO3vjXqHTbDXstQrGjKJ5bOHWYk-xnM4omaJ2m0VdhCcQL7LZM7u9DqedNBa9fXOz7YcDPod0muPUJafjYss8MakwG7dantqVu3Xp6qbJHntsbZu6F-6s7xGyXI/s1600/0925211538a_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji1yxtIhzhRzVaY71ybO3vjXqHTbDXstQrGjKJ5bOHWYk-xnM4omaJ2m0VdhCcQL7LZM7u9DqedNBa9fXOz7YcDPod0muPUJafjYss8MakwG7dantqVu3Xp6qbJHntsbZu6F-6s7xGyXI/w400-h225/0925211538a_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Along Welton Falls Trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div>Parking there looked feasible, so I walked back through Hebron to the Audubon Center and called it a day. It would be two weeks before I was able to return and finish up the Ghost Trail route and SRK Greenway. <br /><p></p></div>Teresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04628471774296555013noreply@blogger.com0Plymouth Mountain, Plymouth, NH 03264, USA43.7092393 -71.723689918.446657275562949 -106.8799399 68.971821324437059 -36.5674399tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410961879681386812.post-69344171376853907112021-09-23T18:26:00.385-04:002021-11-22T09:28:35.345-05:00Ghost Trail: Crawford Ridgepole Trail to Plymouth<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCO1gGf2DM4TKRP_UQEsDYDr_fb6EUUzZfJop2dUS8s30o3Xql0zgp1UYmO4yupizq85MVrH5zeEl9LSpieslvWpmnWcPVuNBPa_7jxwE6QFY2gH2NSWGxwyYii4-V1MpThBfjif2RnMY/s1600/0923210800.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCO1gGf2DM4TKRP_UQEsDYDr_fb6EUUzZfJop2dUS8s30o3Xql0zgp1UYmO4yupizq85MVrH5zeEl9LSpieslvWpmnWcPVuNBPa_7jxwE6QFY2gH2NSWGxwyYii4-V1MpThBfjif2RnMY/w400-h225/0923210800.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crawford Ridgepole Trail on Doublehead Mtn</td></tr></tbody></table><br />It was raining when I woke up on a plateau east of Doublehead Mountain, so I hung out for a bit and got a late start. It was 8:00 am before I hit the trail, leaving White Mountain National Forest behind. <div><br /></div><div>I stopped to look at something, and a red squirrel came bounding casually up the trail towards me. It just kept coming when I though it would stop and turn around, and then suddenly the squirrel was on my leg. I don't know which one of us was more surprised. After half a second of processing this error, the squirrel jumped off and ran up the nearest tree. I could feel the little claw marks on my leg for half an hour. Truly one of the weirder things I've had happen on a trail. I've had gray squirrels plummet out of tree tops and land with a big thud next to me, but I've never had a squirrel mistake me for a tree. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh35xkOIHayipQ4m8IH6BeROeSDqhCqP7k660WwozgAY0M9Zm3n0rNs0YgOhcd3pnR_AhL-B1cjqdD7fv7K9o8OX1BJ0e-NRp9mMF2_D0aJfiAawUvgY717yYrsVxEbxd5CQ-3-xk1APjE/s1600/0923210840.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh35xkOIHayipQ4m8IH6BeROeSDqhCqP7k660WwozgAY0M9Zm3n0rNs0YgOhcd3pnR_AhL-B1cjqdD7fv7K9o8OX1BJ0e-NRp9mMF2_D0aJfiAawUvgY717yYrsVxEbxd5CQ-3-xk1APjE/w400-h225/0923210840.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Junction with Doublehead Trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I didn't take many pictures on this next section because it was raining pretty good most of the time. The map showed five peaks along the Crawford Ridgepole Trail before Old Mountain Road, where I'd leave the ridge. It was super slow going. This ridge has lots of bare rock at odd angles, and it looks like it would be a lot of fun day-hiking on a dry day. But backpacking in the rain was not easy. Every step was a potential fall and busted ankle. The trail between Doublehead and Mt. Squam, took me about 1.5 hours and it was only one mile. At this point it was after 10:00 am, and I had another six miles to get to Old Mountain Road. If the ridge was all like this, I wouldn't get to the turnoff until 7:00 pm. I tried picking up the pace, but couldn't go much faster on the wet rock. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPhKX7C4G5Emk19PKjrmqdyeG8Tb-zDVb8535hGxZCBZUOMO6EsIjla959tVgpKxUhXSkvjAAG4TlgyprMRn9nDSV8HOL5taPKVQb_01s9TTjNj_MkfSc6NZKznfvgnZ48JtOKAcDp90w/s1600/0923211007.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPhKX7C4G5Emk19PKjrmqdyeG8Tb-zDVb8535hGxZCBZUOMO6EsIjla959tVgpKxUhXSkvjAAG4TlgyprMRn9nDSV8HOL5taPKVQb_01s9TTjNj_MkfSc6NZKznfvgnZ48JtOKAcDp90w/w400-h225/0923211007.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Squam Lake, from Mt. Squam</td></tr></tbody></table><br />With all the rain and blowing mist I was pretty sure I wasn't getting a view, but near the top of Mt. Squam, the wind momentarily blew the clouds aside to reveal Squam Lake down below. Nice! <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_T6bk3ZmEnNnoQcS9U_NElnjRGrZW0s8t5YQ3pFqBf7O_6ga__RlspyIbxdEnKSIJXTwfS2gzojbY7mn8QfhhlmOEJLUDOUNgVMCNa_hTvcWnNuUVq0534SomiUW91KNHABAOfW8RlLE/s1600/0923211213%257E2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1114" data-original-width="1600" height="279" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_T6bk3ZmEnNnoQcS9U_NElnjRGrZW0s8t5YQ3pFqBf7O_6ga__RlspyIbxdEnKSIJXTwfS2gzojbY7mn8QfhhlmOEJLUDOUNgVMCNa_hTvcWnNuUVq0534SomiUW91KNHABAOfW8RlLE/w400-h279/0923211213%257E2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lots and lots of slick rock east of Mt. Morgan</td></tr></tbody></table>The rain picked up as I made my way over Mt. Percival. I have no idea where that peak was. The ridge was a series of endless ups and downs and there was no sense of arriving at any particular peak. It seemed like there were dozens of peaks. And the peaks shown on the trail maps were not marked in the real world, so the only way to know you had arrived would be by checking a map on your phone, which I couldn't do very well because it was raining. <p></p><p>There were a couple trail junctions associated with Mt. Morgan that were very confusing. There was a three-way junction with a four-way sign. The sign pointed me directly into the forest where there was no trail. So, umm, do I go right or left? I chose left, and checked Gaia to see if it was correct after a bit. So far so good. Then I came to another junction with one trail heading steeply down the ridge and another with a ladder going up a cliff. I had a moment of terror thinking I would need to go up the ladder in the rain, but just then a couple of angels were walking up the hill (the first people I'd seen in two days) and they said the ladder was just to a lookout and if I continued downhill there was a trail junction for the Crawford Ridgepole Trail. Thank you!</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNtM7nYPreKqUfS_yumv9Bh85vVzOIHT9MrNKPBA0sbdzLOmwnkXUsuosb0bI53cqi9yIh3jh6cRHSD6yBoVVfCaL2CSOq29rGu_xRI46pFii9GG8V_aYKxDsShdD96ichLPx0ljEuTqc/s1600/0923211310e.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNtM7nYPreKqUfS_yumv9Bh85vVzOIHT9MrNKPBA0sbdzLOmwnkXUsuosb0bI53cqi9yIh3jh6cRHSD6yBoVVfCaL2CSOq29rGu_xRI46pFii9GG8V_aYKxDsShdD96ichLPx0ljEuTqc/w400-h225/0923211310e.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Easy walking west of Mt. Morgan</td></tr></tbody></table><br />And just like that, the trail got really easy. No more rock. Also, the rain stopped. And the sun even came out once in a while. Fantastic. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjTLov3tyodM6GkznFa35jg4cHqcG8meP-NiBfvzPxh02ESSoSnA8OjxDH0ELsEq0biY1FVqYQsMi5c16PbLBejS7KzTM659xIRHLnqHvz8TO5bNzmC4DLIlgQL2tOnh9N_iRPtVKoqWw/s1600/0923211340b_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="931" data-original-width="1600" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjTLov3tyodM6GkznFa35jg4cHqcG8meP-NiBfvzPxh02ESSoSnA8OjxDH0ELsEq0biY1FVqYQsMi5c16PbLBejS7KzTM659xIRHLnqHvz8TO5bNzmC4DLIlgQL2tOnh9N_iRPtVKoqWw/w400-h233/0923211340b_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Squam Lake from Mt. Webster</td></tr></tbody></table>At some point I passed top of Mt. Webster, but it never felt like it. The trail runs just below the ridgetop there. Then the trail curved uphill a bit towards the top of the ridge and a view opened up of Squam Lake below. Spectacular! I had fun watching the dueling crows and hawk and the low clouds speeding across the sky above the lake. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJkEF3kZ1ykVunX6SyFvelOwVyNJieQynBD3DbayMR8P1qX1UvQHxJ7XJE-CHv7XjZplhdfVe01pTOQNgyN5E6H_g4lfX9qOg-Uk_TavY-11anwLodt_7wZ-g2fJjzaZ3NS90_2TLz_fI/s1600/0923211423a_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="879" data-original-width="1600" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJkEF3kZ1ykVunX6SyFvelOwVyNJieQynBD3DbayMR8P1qX1UvQHxJ7XJE-CHv7XjZplhdfVe01pTOQNgyN5E6H_g4lfX9qOg-Uk_TavY-11anwLodt_7wZ-g2fJjzaZ3NS90_2TLz_fI/w400-h220/0923211423a_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another vista from Mt. Webster</td></tr></tbody></table>Further on, there was yet another overlook. The sky was blue in places and dark with rain in others. How lucky to get these views on a rainy day.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfSECSKPrCJQiNj0C1MnY2bXjyXVGYFeQFccv58PI17rLF_Fh1z-HhYseK8jnZ3gO7l-p2rqpyrOS0sHVKvjueilKpIUIo_U0EmwOD3QDNDWQkwJQfH6mfewtqkjK_OKFI0747uUWT8ps/s1600/0923211438.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="963" data-original-width="1600" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfSECSKPrCJQiNj0C1MnY2bXjyXVGYFeQFccv58PI17rLF_Fh1z-HhYseK8jnZ3gO7l-p2rqpyrOS0sHVKvjueilKpIUIo_U0EmwOD3QDNDWQkwJQfH6mfewtqkjK_OKFI0747uUWT8ps/w400-h241/0923211438.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another option for descending the Crawford Ridgepole Trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br />There was a signage for the Brooks Fisher Trail, which was an option I considered for descending the ridge as an alternative to Old Mountain Road. The trail comes out onto Perch Pond Road. It's not on my AMC White Mountain map, but it shows up on Gaia. I decided against the trail since I wasn't sure what condition it was in, and it actually adds 3/4 mile of roadwalk to the trip. <p></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEjmY7cCzstWEhQTdX_TIwpje09MKtSX5BWhY_Hc0k-DGT5-Jqe9vPQNGpVLucdauoyJhOfq8POxr36Qm5rao69zWzCwGhbQjJoM364kQ2PBIqTOa4X3hUx74wWc6a_uuqtW8qhQkfn6U/s1600/0923211522a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEjmY7cCzstWEhQTdX_TIwpje09MKtSX5BWhY_Hc0k-DGT5-Jqe9vPQNGpVLucdauoyJhOfq8POxr36Qm5rao69zWzCwGhbQjJoM364kQ2PBIqTOa4X3hUx74wWc6a_uuqtW8qhQkfn6U/w400-h225/0923211522a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old Mountain Road</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The junction with Old Mountain Road was also well-marked. The old road does get some 4WD traffic, based on the tracks and erosion, which is too bad. But it looks like plenty of people walk it as well, and I didn't have any trouble. I was actually able to collect some water breaking out of the hill, although it was a wet day. Still, it was the first collectable water I'd seen since Beede Falls. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcy_-CQ6gZyBFZT6JaBEzd9iDWJg_Onyl3lUNBgBgV8f1kYtXvR-pfY6zDmSMhyphenhyphenSt8G5I3LmeUhNUcQ-eRAEMcL9eFR2t0708AvN-pIqNLZLqVOJmHQE_0jtdcpn06aXfIZRiUrnmyjbg/s1600/0924210736.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcy_-CQ6gZyBFZT6JaBEzd9iDWJg_Onyl3lUNBgBgV8f1kYtXvR-pfY6zDmSMhyphenhyphenSt8G5I3LmeUhNUcQ-eRAEMcL9eFR2t0708AvN-pIqNLZLqVOJmHQE_0jtdcpn06aXfIZRiUrnmyjbg/w400-h225/0924210736.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beede Road on the way to Plymouth</td></tr></tbody></table>I made it to the bottom around 3:30 pm and was set for roadwalking to Plymouth, but just then my husband pulled up. He had just arrived from Connecticut and was ready to bring me to the hotel for a hot shower and delicious food that did not have nuts or anything freeze-dried. At the same time, I wanted to finish off the road walk, so I was torn. And then it started pouring and my decision was made. I hopped in the car and that was it for the day. We stayed in Ashland because the hotels in Plymouth were mostly booked up due to parents weekend or something at the college. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYPUNVqVk2Yu8PLt8wYkRMdBxCdQltyKga-3AYC_tvrCuPKoaqqqfyAczlIMk052XPz8nWrvNueWbDsX3OTnQFWbVQYrAwAudjNspX35A8LihPIFPW6TXJjzuWhUjXfwP0FfcvcxTRuek/s1600/0924210800_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYPUNVqVk2Yu8PLt8wYkRMdBxCdQltyKga-3AYC_tvrCuPKoaqqqfyAczlIMk052XPz8nWrvNueWbDsX3OTnQFWbVQYrAwAudjNspX35A8LihPIFPW6TXJjzuWhUjXfwP0FfcvcxTRuek/w400-h225/0924210800_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roadwalk to Plymouth</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The next day, some very heavy rain was forecast to move in, but there was brief morning window that might be OK. And so I finished up the road walk into Plymouth. The most obvious route was to take Beede Road/Seven Pines Road out to highway 175A. I didn't like the highway when we drove it, though. It was very narrow and windy with little or no shoulder and tons of traffic. So I went a different way that required a short bushwhack through some woods (Smith Rd, Sargeant Rd, Trivett Lane, Herritage Hill Road). <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio14fZUPP1kP1GwUI8iTLeKUKkXlC3DrWoe3EPUCm8AftBtUeTJpq2s04N_3s5WBp9qlhcivZcnnOwWZJeg5rG7hKs0UEF9lEBQLoP24o65cYLu3GaPqBlVG0noS_BsgZfcPrBtO_0gXU/s1600/0924210810c.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio14fZUPP1kP1GwUI8iTLeKUKkXlC3DrWoe3EPUCm8AftBtUeTJpq2s04N_3s5WBp9qlhcivZcnnOwWZJeg5rG7hKs0UEF9lEBQLoP24o65cYLu3GaPqBlVG0noS_BsgZfcPrBtO_0gXU/w400-h225/0924210810c.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pilot Forest off Beede Road<br />Town of Holderness</td></tr></tbody></table>There's some town property called Pilot Forest with trails located along Beede Road that I'd noted on my maps "just in case." My husband took a walk through there while I was doing my road walk and he said it was pretty nice. There's a sign out front with a map of the trails, and it does say "no overnight camping unless permitted by the commission." So perhaps there's a way for a backpacker to get permission to stay there if needed, although I imagine most thru hikers would be getting a room in Plymouth.<br /><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_hKm12s21Lp8CF1bxEBS19r2LUgcPueRm9bQtCrKUmgXvxpF6rkCDUDqfVfJjMZ3j1ycRStFwH6oBRzUwp2Yc3Zc0KbA7HIFL0Hop09rST5Ojp0OMEbaJt3-Il_uep9M63O9Y3R1juoQ/s1600/0924210809.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_hKm12s21Lp8CF1bxEBS19r2LUgcPueRm9bQtCrKUmgXvxpF6rkCDUDqfVfJjMZ3j1ycRStFwH6oBRzUwp2Yc3Zc0KbA7HIFL0Hop09rST5Ojp0OMEbaJt3-Il_uep9M63O9Y3R1juoQ/w400-h225/0924210809.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"No overnight camping unless permitted by the Commission"</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The alternative route worked out great, and I was able to avoid walking on the highway until just before the I-93 underpass, at which point the rain moved in and pickup up steadily as I crossed the Pemigewasset River. <p><br /><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZXqXLEZtySGK8XULAL7jVIWt2KPq86IR45fgPLJvOQl-WrPWM3G6EE-nB3fEcA5CZ2TWG7BdGiIEZ7Bu3zMUrGVyKh1aDkAEjHqEIqjUSvInuof66QithJl_4t_FQjD1Yh8l9tfddYqU/s1600/0924210932a_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZXqXLEZtySGK8XULAL7jVIWt2KPq86IR45fgPLJvOQl-WrPWM3G6EE-nB3fEcA5CZ2TWG7BdGiIEZ7Bu3zMUrGVyKh1aDkAEjHqEIqjUSvInuof66QithJl_4t_FQjD1Yh8l9tfddYqU/w400-h225/0924210932a_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pemigewasset River</td></tr></tbody></table>By the time I got to Plymouth, it was really pouring and there were rivers running across the asphalt. But I was able to duck in to a diner where my husband was waiting with some breakfast. Later on we came back to do some shopping, but there really isn't much there for tourists. Plymouth is a college town, so there are a number of places for young people to meet up with friends and grab something to eat or drink. There's a laundromat and a Rite-Aid and a Post Office that thru-hikers might use. If you need a place to sleep, there's a cluster of hotels about a mile north of town. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM4-Y1OWmm0ZKecbV8wSPJhdea2npR_4Y2227taI_y9Uc8ysvVJlSmkbyuB3DLqA4qtnfMe4yPMQSmA9A2JfI7pwXaitybASuUtwrLSMqGBPems2ec_w6DlGY6arX6n10uGiMO7BtFKgI/s1600/0924211318a_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM4-Y1OWmm0ZKecbV8wSPJhdea2npR_4Y2227taI_y9Uc8ysvVJlSmkbyuB3DLqA4qtnfMe4yPMQSmA9A2JfI7pwXaitybASuUtwrLSMqGBPems2ec_w6DlGY6arX6n10uGiMO7BtFKgI/w400-h225/0924211318a_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Plymouth</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p></div>Teresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04628471774296555013noreply@blogger.com0Mt Squam, Sandwich, NH 03227, USA43.8156275 -71.54563139999999115.505393663821152 -106.70188139999999 72.125861336178843 -36.389381399999991tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410961879681386812.post-19910550613309631832021-09-22T07:10:00.370-04:002021-11-20T08:36:24.919-05:00Ghost Trail: Flat Mtn Pond to Crawford Ridgepole Trail<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-V_oqiRDUrSVIu77kl1HdZFDPYm7NTh68OPZxJ7Nw_6yiLe58PqZEJ4kg-LeydtF3u0I4Y6An0SSdx-roqskph1Y0p1Y-QJxYYkkQBWRTC9jVyM0ktW84X_x8o4BYJe-yIT0HGdGltyw/s1600/0922210717.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-V_oqiRDUrSVIu77kl1HdZFDPYm7NTh68OPZxJ7Nw_6yiLe58PqZEJ4kg-LeydtF3u0I4Y6An0SSdx-roqskph1Y0p1Y-QJxYYkkQBWRTC9jVyM0ktW84X_x8o4BYJe-yIT0HGdGltyw/w400-h225/0922210717.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flat Mountain Pond Trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I packed up my gear in a dark morning mist by headlamp. After my excitement with the bull moose stamping and scraping and peeing away near my tent the night before, I was on high alert as I retrieved my bear bag. In the dark. It was hanging just a few feet from the moose drama from the night before. I kept looking over my shoulder in case the bull moose returned to his special place. Then I wandered down the dark, misty trail, looking for the moose. All I saw was a lot of tracks, though. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgechb3M20mN4yIB2gJ08FhXai55mDsd5v24XRJi-diuefzQ1d84j4E0Y2aIbTvPOMNdJ9GP6P6swdIl1_VHZJssA-_N0ObXu6BXDdfbpzUojNe85Fakgn52UF7o-bUYjxEtCCJsVeQnlI/s1600/0922210831a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgechb3M20mN4yIB2gJ08FhXai55mDsd5v24XRJi-diuefzQ1d84j4E0Y2aIbTvPOMNdJ9GP6P6swdIl1_VHZJssA-_N0ObXu6BXDdfbpzUojNe85Fakgn52UF7o-bUYjxEtCCJsVeQnlI/w400-h225/0922210831a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beaver Pond detour</td></tr></tbody></table>Flat Mountain Pond Trail continued easily through the gradually lightening sky along the old railroad bed to Guinea Pond Trail, which was also pretty easy. The most challenging part was getting past a beaver pond that appears to have flooded out the trail. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5yjZUs9UDKk1ObYhKRQDZvBgufVqW_co-t89xvYnQm02iGDVsBG5RAd17IRP4FeBV1cQ_PQMU4EhW4TJ2txnDSVpHsKg6pwk3xUvm3LBdOLS_yXckRnih29_7pUiGSkxR8NMEZk83wWw/s1600/0922210908.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5yjZUs9UDKk1ObYhKRQDZvBgufVqW_co-t89xvYnQm02iGDVsBG5RAd17IRP4FeBV1cQ_PQMU4EhW4TJ2txnDSVpHsKg6pwk3xUvm3LBdOLS_yXckRnih29_7pUiGSkxR8NMEZk83wWw/w400-h225/0922210908.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lowlands near Guinea Pond</td></tr></tbody></table>I tried to get to Guinea Pond for a look, but the unmarked access trail was flooded out, probably by beaver. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjArNFq3catnVg0wnog0w_OrRgheOjZtzihxwFWB8asRxqzoZYwoQz4BR8-5hQil4WmfEgLHrCM7veLt2Q9lGQw7zV18wKrIBxCK8vkoWfY1DW3iU1tiEQuTnw2m7QQenCry_JFRFAh0nU/s1600/0922210923.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjArNFq3catnVg0wnog0w_OrRgheOjZtzihxwFWB8asRxqzoZYwoQz4BR8-5hQil4WmfEgLHrCM7veLt2Q9lGQw7zV18wKrIBxCK8vkoWfY1DW3iU1tiEQuTnw2m7QQenCry_JFRFAh0nU/w400-h225/0922210923.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mead Trail goes up Mt. Israel</td></tr></tbody></table><br />And then it was time to head up Mt. Israel via Mead Trail. This would be the last peak of White Mountain National Forest. The climb up would be about 1100 feet, but the descent would be closer to 1600 feet as the trail drops down from the White Mountains.<div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF31rJUp07RPcdKm5othg6riRMUcc9RcdGnkCnVNz97mAYhmXv_zywWbQ0bM27RoMAo_tCAS0AR-nCT3TEh81mJ3OHKTR7v8CbGWfa8sXNWBWPXmKxgG4ckl7nZGa_vgYA_cyGFWTzHZU/s1600/0922211021a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1600" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF31rJUp07RPcdKm5othg6riRMUcc9RcdGnkCnVNz97mAYhmXv_zywWbQ0bM27RoMAo_tCAS0AR-nCT3TEh81mJ3OHKTR7v8CbGWfa8sXNWBWPXmKxgG4ckl7nZGa_vgYA_cyGFWTzHZU/w200-h160/0922211021a.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red Eft</td></tr></tbody></table><div>The heavy, wet fog changed over to light rain as I headed up the slope. Moody forest. Quiet. Lovely. There was nothing too difficult with the ascent. Just a beautiful White Mountain Forest. </div><div><br /><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijE4Bt1_kNyuufnC7tKcQ1DK-yFxI2LQ7dXhbel69Mim_QRquhi1Y-6nAkBt-1hLeRQCP_W_3n19z6y5LjmyrfE3RvHC-t8NVLzXqkveZNdBPYiFb502u7HFXa2qJTgDj9pp1HfTshyphenhyphenBg/s1600/0922211047.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijE4Bt1_kNyuufnC7tKcQ1DK-yFxI2LQ7dXhbel69Mim_QRquhi1Y-6nAkBt-1hLeRQCP_W_3n19z6y5LjmyrfE3RvHC-t8NVLzXqkveZNdBPYiFb502u7HFXa2qJTgDj9pp1HfTshyphenhyphenBg/w225-h400/0922211047.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mead Trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The rain let up as neared the top, and I suddenly got a cell phone signal, so I checked the forecast: showers the next five days. Super! I fixed up some food while there was a break in the rain and headed down the hill on the Wentworth Trail. No view in the fog up there, no reason to linger.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirVznpVPqAb29x7Rkx4YoIhc-yTSFEV7SRqtbpxNnnZ2Rx5c96cM-rus3N2XsOZJPYBVfhy6uEa33viMdYfbU-gDr-3empkp27XRdCOMiKORMbOGEshxBnjiWmqrG_li3vEjhjYR1rAtc/s1600/0922211106.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirVznpVPqAb29x7Rkx4YoIhc-yTSFEV7SRqtbpxNnnZ2Rx5c96cM-rus3N2XsOZJPYBVfhy6uEa33viMdYfbU-gDr-3empkp27XRdCOMiKORMbOGEshxBnjiWmqrG_li3vEjhjYR1rAtc/w400-h225/0922211106.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Junction with Wentworth Trail, top of Mt. Israel</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4PH5VifqOH95THl_oMAHmnTLgVQZaLhU0CklKqtPvK-ON0g9VcsR1jMafFH4O7Mqt9D8kasHdX0ZTl3Q8sty_8yk05cNZT8iMMeDodq2SZIS-Vu2zElOZJCaNMxZUKE0FyiBTX3vXSxY/s1600/0922211141_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4PH5VifqOH95THl_oMAHmnTLgVQZaLhU0CklKqtPvK-ON0g9VcsR1jMafFH4O7Mqt9D8kasHdX0ZTl3Q8sty_8yk05cNZT8iMMeDodq2SZIS-Vu2zElOZJCaNMxZUKE0FyiBTX3vXSxY/w400-h225/0922211141_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mt. Israel non-view</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div><br /></div><div> The showers came and went all the way down. Sometimes the sun almost came out. </div><div><br /></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihKjsGadZEBC31y5FPkqcAhkqufHdOxHAm49v-qrMJWXwVlUBah6DUe08MY7f14Rd6IyMeFt6Z68Xb1dv22JOChfEE7dCz38nHAGhWNCVxoQjpP0Iat2-c8mc913zyWEEtoVajGosQ5Xs/s1600/0922211246a.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihKjsGadZEBC31y5FPkqcAhkqufHdOxHAm49v-qrMJWXwVlUBah6DUe08MY7f14Rd6IyMeFt6Z68Xb1dv22JOChfEE7dCz38nHAGhWNCVxoQjpP0Iat2-c8mc913zyWEEtoVajGosQ5Xs/w400-h226/0922211246a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr></tr></tbody></table></div><div><br />The forest changed as the trail dropped down off the White Mountains. The spruce-fir forest of the mountain top had switched to an oak forest by the time I got to the bottom. It was the first patch of oaks I remember seeing. Oaks are much more common as you go south, so it really punctuated the new terrain I was entering. There were so many acorn-marbles on the trail I had to slow down. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmYt2uq4M3wbEzyn5QPfP5h2LiPql4g4oFjNva2ChdJfKAajBRulQ65IY7vZkHKZkaqW67V9xt2gXFhd0wTY7HfhPWaDoJ08uYE97VPwz1uW69oV5QKZ7HFS2tXXrB0ZWrq-P4_OoHEso/s1600/0922211334d.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmYt2uq4M3wbEzyn5QPfP5h2LiPql4g4oFjNva2ChdJfKAajBRulQ65IY7vZkHKZkaqW67V9xt2gXFhd0wTY7HfhPWaDoJ08uYE97VPwz1uW69oV5QKZ7HFS2tXXrB0ZWrq-P4_OoHEso/w400-h225/0922211334d.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mead Base Conservation Center</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The trail popped out behind the Mead Base Conservation Center, which appeared to be closed. I thought it was someone's house at first. And then it wasn't all that clear how to get on Bearcamp River Trail, so I just kept to the right without going out to the main road, following a dirt drive that slipped between a small brown building and a parking lot with just one car in it. What I thought was a trail sign just said "TOILET -->". But it was the correct way. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj95Pvy1Rvx9ScraT-3JnuW2i3qb6E82IyQwxk_kNbRmjZrrRvPdhKC8yWpBYv48kVB8j0Eh-mI0Q5j9Vajro0ZX8jjsFQXORcg1AAx-kWdlW7w6MpM-iANpoxOln-drAiuahlCXAKLE-E/s1600/0922211335.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj95Pvy1Rvx9ScraT-3JnuW2i3qb6E82IyQwxk_kNbRmjZrrRvPdhKC8yWpBYv48kVB8j0Eh-mI0Q5j9Vajro0ZX8jjsFQXORcg1AAx-kWdlW7w6MpM-iANpoxOln-drAiuahlCXAKLE-E/w400-h225/0922211335.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bearcamp River Trail follows the dirt drive<br />behind the little brown building</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The drive passed a couple fairly large areas marked for tenting. I had no idea what the deal was there, so I just walked past. It turns out there are three tent sites and you can reserve one for $25 a night (<a href="http://www.meadbase.org/camping-at-mead.html">see websit</a>e). But they were still closed due to Covid. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7qRl2u3bb8FwuunoHfiQpS2X9jLBJU3cnVmE0_2wtEqizV16AgpQlpFTetEHR5GqAYIzKUROdrfnATh5NIAD42-qWMPifZzTURv5ebTa_nyXF-d_riUm17mkITHMY3UoKn48gKJ0Z91w/s1600/0922211349a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7qRl2u3bb8FwuunoHfiQpS2X9jLBJU3cnVmE0_2wtEqizV16AgpQlpFTetEHR5GqAYIzKUROdrfnATh5NIAD42-qWMPifZzTURv5ebTa_nyXF-d_riUm17mkITHMY3UoKn48gKJ0Z91w/w400-h225/0922211349a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Entering Sandwich Notch Park</td></tr></tbody></table>After a short stroll down the Bearcamp River Trail, the trail enters Sandwich Notch Park, a municipal park that was surprisingly magical that day. Zero people were there at the time, although it clearly gets much love from many people. First there lots of rock features just covered with moss and ferns and liverworts. Then there was the "cow cave." This was a very long, deeply overhanging rock. I've never seen one so long in New England. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGLKQ2PFl_ODlAvwbeT97N1IJZtkAg1Jd1OM9mySoPnJlt-VBK0O2pHEKzbhtF4noTL9AyF-poWRqsfwZfNudsZL2CCWD9pHe_z4NeLu6HojN-eYFrc5aLMIaJTVJjvbRQk-ax16Qwh1Q/s1600/0922211351.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGLKQ2PFl_ODlAvwbeT97N1IJZtkAg1Jd1OM9mySoPnJlt-VBK0O2pHEKzbhtF4noTL9AyF-poWRqsfwZfNudsZL2CCWD9pHe_z4NeLu6HojN-eYFrc5aLMIaJTVJjvbRQk-ax16Qwh1Q/w400-h225/0922211351.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Cow Cave"</td></tr></tbody></table>Then there was Beede Falls, where a stream basically drops down off the overhanging rock formation. Wow. I had the place all to myself. In fact I had not seen a human being all day. This was the last water source before heading up the Crawford Ridgepole Trail, which has no water. So I stopped to fill up all my bottles, and it started raining pretty good at that point. There's a lower falls as well which is a "must see", but I just didn't have it in me. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDb6TmXVNIUHhyphenhyphenPghAThEDj7uMlsyO31RX_LomIWQuEut4gFLRe7PD_0bihgmm4blkcHOPGIYZ-a_mWOuG_ZW7wVqwzi_bVXPaQuVDtUvaCRA-40RczQ9j7zteQdnJQUqUxE8WKPNxDx0/s1600/0922211354a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDb6TmXVNIUHhyphenhyphenPghAThEDj7uMlsyO31RX_LomIWQuEut4gFLRe7PD_0bihgmm4blkcHOPGIYZ-a_mWOuG_ZW7wVqwzi_bVXPaQuVDtUvaCRA-40RczQ9j7zteQdnJQUqUxE8WKPNxDx0/w400-h225/0922211354a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beede Falls, just before the rain hit</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The trek requires a walk up Sandwich Notch Road for a ways, and it rained pretty good the entire way. It's a gravel road and a couple pickup trucks passed by. Did you know that the official New Hampshire vehicle is a faded black pickup? It's true. The Crawford Ridgepole Trailhead was well marked, though the parking area was small. The trail heads uphill pretty quickly. </div><div><br /></div><div>Somewhere along the line, the official trail must have taken a right and I followed the herd path straight ahead. At this point I should note that this trail has blazes, unlike most everything else I'd been following in the White Mountains, and you should definitely follow those blazes really carefully. I did not. I do when I'm in Connecticut, but the trails up in the Whites are different. You just follow the herd path. Which is fine, but once you're on the Crawford Ridgepole Trail, do yourself a favor and look for the blazes. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYYrOhJ3b2wBzRN6F76KloRhyphenhyphenAt0Wdx4EePI7DcirC7bJgE-KjbXkkRtwjqnz184L8PvBDG2o5TMQy4kFYvdpLzislMWZQyG_0TreAyfyvGzxsN45KZA5LqOECN2m-5cdEGk1_sP4trno/s679/Chrome+Legacy+Window+11192021+93203+AM.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="632" data-original-width="679" height="373" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYYrOhJ3b2wBzRN6F76KloRhyphenhyphenAt0Wdx4EePI7DcirC7bJgE-KjbXkkRtwjqnz184L8PvBDG2o5TMQy4kFYvdpLzislMWZQyG_0TreAyfyvGzxsN45KZA5LqOECN2m-5cdEGk1_sP4trno/w400-h373/Chrome+Legacy+Window+11192021+93203+AM.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wrong turn: <br />The most hazardous 20 minutes of hiking in my life</td></tr></tbody></table><br />At any rate, the "trail" I was on got steeper and steeper. It was a mud cliff bound with tree roots. Small footholds had been carved into the cliff mud. It was insane. I grabbed desperately onto whatever tree root or sapling I could find, clawing at the ground for a better grip, hauling myself and my gear and three liters of water up the mud cliff inch by inch. What the hell kind of trail was this?? There was no going back down, the only way was to go keep going up. So I did. Eventually the nightmare of trail leveled out. And then... I could find the trail tread. After checking Gaia on my phone, it turned out I wasn't even on the trail. It was off to the right. Eventually I found the real trail, and it had curved around the cliff I had just climbed. So the lesson is: Look for those blazes. Also, the trail managers should put up a sign or something because I was obviously not the only person missing the bend in the trail, and that was super hazardous. </div><div><br /></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh_i1h9_NuOpSeJYn2t0t7Y1Qoi_ZQxx-8ANQeE6iTdHyEAxolIA-NnPLF7WmBgPrmE58-e10Dm_FnhkNrtFNVXHHTJj3hEjb7yujO2mjjshevENPUqY9AICL3ZYsnG2x45AY068-BLkQ/s536/Fullscreen+capture+11192021+45555+PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="536" data-original-width="522" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh_i1h9_NuOpSeJYn2t0t7Y1Qoi_ZQxx-8ANQeE6iTdHyEAxolIA-NnPLF7WmBgPrmE58-e10Dm_FnhkNrtFNVXHHTJj3hEjb7yujO2mjjshevENPUqY9AICL3ZYsnG2x45AY068-BLkQ/w390-h400/Fullscreen+capture+11192021+45555+PM.jpg" width="390" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Forest boundaries per USDA Forest Service GIS map<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />The rain had let up by that point, and the next step was to find a spot to set up the tent that was within of White Mountain National Forest. The rest of the Crawford Ridgepole Trail is on private property, and I may do some stealth camping at times, but never, ever, ever on private property. The boundaries are complex in this area, with the trail passing out of the National Forest and then back into it again. Gaia, the AMC Trail Map, and an online map hosted by the Forest Service all show an arm of the National Forest protruding south over a level area prior to the summit of Doublehead Mountain. That's where I was headed. <p></p></div>It worked out great. I found a spot well off the trail that was still within the National Forest, and set up the tent in between periods of rain. Phew!<br /><br />Teresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04628471774296555013noreply@blogger.com0Mt Israel, Sandwich, NH 03227, USA43.8456274 -71.472296915.535393563821152 -106.6285469 72.155861236178851 -36.3160469tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410961879681386812.post-46910532565686578112021-09-21T18:59:00.256-04:002021-11-19T09:22:56.965-05:00Ghost Trail: Mt. Whiteface to Flat Mountain Pond<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX0P9bqzChr6BWYWMIP-qrgial-UjbHJplmH5i8jBNohiXdejgglnM2SRRjhyphenhyphenIwyJgaBaWXjY58GhBfrnGv9vL7L5eKEs2eW48Nhu5ibwETk0Wm8TfYeRePzBEwRpkQJ1G88_n4pvXi_g/s1600/0921210833_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX0P9bqzChr6BWYWMIP-qrgial-UjbHJplmH5i8jBNohiXdejgglnM2SRRjhyphenhyphenIwyJgaBaWXjY58GhBfrnGv9vL7L5eKEs2eW48Nhu5ibwETk0Wm8TfYeRePzBEwRpkQJ1G88_n4pvXi_g/w400-h225/0921210833_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading up Mt. Whiteface on the Kate Sleeper Trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br />This was the best day of backpacking. Perfect weather, no crowds, no bugs, amazing scenery, and the trail was just challenging enough to be interesting (and no more). And it ended with a bull moose grunting and scraping near my tent. Can't beat that. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZZsefA6nlaaxeIgkBd4ENsVekcCe-UDpghcY7ORZqUIGjL6v9YKFqPN64Rxx5UreXH-Z_8HU6mL2XQjDbBWPNueCzuUWUH2SDy-Xip3DFlX6IDH83AY5_UnDyGl-MhGL8yFn0bhEu26c/s1600/0921210835b.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1040" data-original-width="1600" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZZsefA6nlaaxeIgkBd4ENsVekcCe-UDpghcY7ORZqUIGjL6v9YKFqPN64Rxx5UreXH-Z_8HU6mL2XQjDbBWPNueCzuUWUH2SDy-Xip3DFlX6IDH83AY5_UnDyGl-MhGL8yFn0bhEu26c/w400-h260/0921210835b.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cladonia Lichens near the summit</td></tr></tbody></table>It was a pretty short and tranquil morning hike up Mt. Whiteface on the Kate Sleeper Trail/Rollins Trail from the col at the base of East Sleeper. I was surprised to find a dayhiker already up there. It was 9:00 am. This is a 4000-footer. All the 4000-footers have peakbaggers at their summits. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTfvlY2_jEvZa3DQRzlBe_UBTYMQL1gGZiBcj8Qam5BKZrKMf0JsxZ0ani6EAbLlOYPvoyVUB2bl1UnQ4_RI6-sXFsEQ6kUNeILSWHi5a1GvSHQnEEfWlkmFvuR5Bny48-GEFxOSf4TEo/s1600/0921210857_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTfvlY2_jEvZa3DQRzlBe_UBTYMQL1gGZiBcj8Qam5BKZrKMf0JsxZ0ani6EAbLlOYPvoyVUB2bl1UnQ4_RI6-sXFsEQ6kUNeILSWHi5a1GvSHQnEEfWlkmFvuR5Bny48-GEFxOSf4TEo/w400-h225/0921210857_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mt.Whiteface summit</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The views were great. I hadn't appreciated the view the prior day on Tripyramid because they are from the top of an almost-cliff I was about to descend in a state of near-terror. This was much more civilized. There were old carvings in the hard rock dating back to the 1800s. Graffiti is ageless. Cell phone was good, so I backed up some photos in case something happened to my phone before continuing on. The sign post for the McCrillis Trail was easy to miss, but I found it and followed the trail south down the mountain.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzI5_bkyqUzphboHOYj5UcSDID_aRTzS2xcSWC1ZlPVcMzNVnpJxEmvOlC0KVSr8H31jIn8fdxpQjduTni7E7hsIpyGehOKny2lI6xD__wfbMgPIWOFLj5DLKT6X0G-aiUoHSI4TZyO5E/s1600/0921210901_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="999" data-original-width="1600" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzI5_bkyqUzphboHOYj5UcSDID_aRTzS2xcSWC1ZlPVcMzNVnpJxEmvOlC0KVSr8H31jIn8fdxpQjduTni7E7hsIpyGehOKny2lI6xD__wfbMgPIWOFLj5DLKT6X0G-aiUoHSI4TZyO5E/w400-h250/0921210901_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mt. Whiteface view</td></tr></tbody></table>After the Tripyramid trauma the previous day, I was worried about the Mt. Whiteface descent. It's all the same ridge, so presumably the same geology and the same mountain goats laying out the trails. There did turn out to be one tricky part early in the descent where I played it safe and lowered my backpack with some rope before sliding down the rock on my butt. That was the only challenging spot for the day. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCgP1aJWYQ-1PCp-JqhvDrsnIVaCRFloc_rTuffjnvdKq6J_tzOycBLFiRvSsl7cHDbeCFZmdJaJWlAnIUCYAUim8aX4bPiEFe2aIwguNh0v6lgWt5jaxLTypY85HoEWMaH7ypGY1CbDA/s1600/0921210906.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1009" data-original-width="1600" height="253" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCgP1aJWYQ-1PCp-JqhvDrsnIVaCRFloc_rTuffjnvdKq6J_tzOycBLFiRvSsl7cHDbeCFZmdJaJWlAnIUCYAUim8aX4bPiEFe2aIwguNh0v6lgWt5jaxLTypY85HoEWMaH7ypGY1CbDA/w400-h253/0921210906.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The only tricky part of the day</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Fearing the worst as I headed down this mountain, I was continually elated at each moderate descent. Steep, but not big scrambles. And dry. When the grade finally began to lessen and the worst was over, I was all smiles. The ridge was over with. Piece of cake. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrZHYCi3Vw0sKu9OOSIUf0y0Xg87Zz1BvYsYLzMYY7ulJepLUQDE7YY8nqRghMTyUrrnjMjSyEz2AHsIFIjy9rF9oIuFN2W6bByTWJdcbDybsPwGmf4vGBnBOFqVN4qj7KHO4XR3k1UY4/s1600/0921211005_HDR%257E2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1002" data-original-width="1600" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrZHYCi3Vw0sKu9OOSIUf0y0Xg87Zz1BvYsYLzMYY7ulJepLUQDE7YY8nqRghMTyUrrnjMjSyEz2AHsIFIjy9rF9oIuFN2W6bByTWJdcbDybsPwGmf4vGBnBOFqVN4qj7KHO4XR3k1UY4/w400-h250/0921211005_HDR%257E2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reindeer moss and mushrooms, McCrillis Trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjusAlbGyErQkzoV9ZOA8da0Y2oVP6CmiHA3AV_OKHVsWZJqYfqJlW3pAJRK1Aq3mHUzZDM92uNCA2t9ofFT5_GT1Gaq_-f7XQE0KgCcZ8A9_pqYQ7wqMf8XFRD2PH40sNrxyBI-WTn9T4/s1600/0921211009a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjusAlbGyErQkzoV9ZOA8da0Y2oVP6CmiHA3AV_OKHVsWZJqYfqJlW3pAJRK1Aq3mHUzZDM92uNCA2t9ofFT5_GT1Gaq_-f7XQE0KgCcZ8A9_pqYQ7wqMf8XFRD2PH40sNrxyBI-WTn9T4/w400-h225/0921211009a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking back at the Mt. Whiteface summit</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM5JEHdKlj9qbRBECKmcvZ-rVHj1vhWRLv7d3l8Ek0TUYffyumAiHDh58QBp7v1iCzB-Kx1mZK86mflNZL44_jA2-_YHz-vZOhnLLchxirGAD0Qh-ukYslfHe8CGwJMwaYUnBVMBI_Dh8/s1600/0921211051.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1113" data-original-width="1600" height="279" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM5JEHdKlj9qbRBECKmcvZ-rVHj1vhWRLv7d3l8Ek0TUYffyumAiHDh58QBp7v1iCzB-Kx1mZK86mflNZL44_jA2-_YHz-vZOhnLLchxirGAD0Qh-ukYslfHe8CGwJMwaYUnBVMBI_Dh8/w400-h279/0921211051.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Indian Cucumber, slopes of Mt. Whiteface</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I passed a group of older men starting up the mountain as I arrived at the junction with Flat Mountain Pond Trail. And that was the last of human beings for the next two days. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt2AeYYqgEKOzgpGdFEpTOMYmJF1DJi4Rqj2RDKKLsPnfMCQWkNPrO9AKIpjjkhGwqE7SuDerKCqYd_Wz-hdjz6lxj_9k8OC76q4dJ_-b43xcd23zU9yAIN5x7wQESVSzTJEHcNw_1nmQ/s1600/0921211219.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt2AeYYqgEKOzgpGdFEpTOMYmJF1DJi4Rqj2RDKKLsPnfMCQWkNPrO9AKIpjjkhGwqE7SuDerKCqYd_Wz-hdjz6lxj_9k8OC76q4dJ_-b43xcd23zU9yAIN5x7wQESVSzTJEHcNw_1nmQ/w400-h225/0921211219.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whiteface River, Flat Mtn Pond Trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Flat Mountain Pond Trail was a joy to hike. It follows the lovely Whiteface River gradually uphill for awhile before turning west towards Flat Mountain Pond. No need to carry much water. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1uj5wQzd3D0V0LKMxXJfQENPyPVvcSyrt4vQ4epYidwnnj00kJAOeDR6At8Tv_dkqMxsNh5kYbohEV4QXyqJcj7wpBMIgC-w-iGo_gXIa88oXN4jC0p11D38IRt2ofbjT9CnY8rAkNLA/s1600/0921211257a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1045" data-original-width="1600" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1uj5wQzd3D0V0LKMxXJfQENPyPVvcSyrt4vQ4epYidwnnj00kJAOeDR6At8Tv_dkqMxsNh5kYbohEV4QXyqJcj7wpBMIgC-w-iGo_gXIa88oXN4jC0p11D38IRt2ofbjT9CnY8rAkNLA/w400-h261/0921211257a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red-Belted Polypore oozing water drops (guttation)</td></tr></tbody></table><br />There were a ton of mushrooms decorating the trail, but the one that caught my eye was a bracket fungi growing on a tree that was covered with glistening drops of water on a completely dry day. I later learned that this is called <a href="http://sci-why.blogspot.com/2017/12/read-it-and-weep-fungal-guttation.html">guttation</a>, and it's something some species do more often than others, helping with identification. The Red-Belted Polypore is well-known for guttating clear drops. Some other species ooze out colored drops. The Bleeding Tooth fungus oozes out drops that are blood red. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4udQRk_arELf9uFaIbzTydoCGD-UxM_BGIiPCLofmD2uXpkDYwQCmCpW87OiiSJm3j9JQ6wEJiK6Ocgpp71P9yI3OjEQA9CRVFkNUPwtAOyJE-jAzgOdWAQtSrhv44vt0bOCWucVhnhw/s1600/0921211417_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1051" data-original-width="1600" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4udQRk_arELf9uFaIbzTydoCGD-UxM_BGIiPCLofmD2uXpkDYwQCmCpW87OiiSJm3j9JQ6wEJiK6Ocgpp71P9yI3OjEQA9CRVFkNUPwtAOyJE-jAzgOdWAQtSrhv44vt0bOCWucVhnhw/w400-h263/0921211417_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flat Mountain Pond</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The walk along Flat Mountain Pond was lovely. Beautiful and peaceful. Bits of fall color. Ducks. Parts of the trail were super easy and other parts climbed up the steep slope above the pond and navigated boulder fields. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGqqzWYH2O0gV7W7x27VbCA8k9eGMEyZuYGV8Xtt-md4bkS4WPvIHl07U4gMOjedHiw67fR_AGyWN2VPiOwaBJ6n1zCRaD-WHyt1N1ET3KXMuiGk40OHvced0WwJGjVqYmFpFa1jyGftQ/s1600/0921211424_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGqqzWYH2O0gV7W7x27VbCA8k9eGMEyZuYGV8Xtt-md4bkS4WPvIHl07U4gMOjedHiw67fR_AGyWN2VPiOwaBJ6n1zCRaD-WHyt1N1ET3KXMuiGk40OHvced0WwJGjVqYmFpFa1jyGftQ/w225-h400/0921211424_HDR.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flat Mountain Pond inlet</td></tr></tbody></table><br />There is a designated tenting area at Flat Mountain Pond Shelter, and it was very tempting. I hung out for ten or fifteen minutes pondering on whether to stay in this glorious spot or continue on a few more miles. <br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4ii2rZhwHby5A3gvGc52uE-_-Nk1nylstV5T1gIUM6RuFqcSsDWooEhqlMBzHvN4oj61pI90l5rC8GKLT7YDT1jkkfoPsCTmAeeS67RGbBMsW8vxXYmHrheOQr14cQ-PBKOU2-Cj0n0/s1600/0921211510_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4ii2rZhwHby5A3gvGc52uE-_-Nk1nylstV5T1gIUM6RuFqcSsDWooEhqlMBzHvN4oj61pI90l5rC8GKLT7YDT1jkkfoPsCTmAeeS67RGbBMsW8vxXYmHrheOQr14cQ-PBKOU2-Cj0n0/w400-h225/0921211510_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tenting site at Flat Mountain Pond</td></tr></tbody></table><br />It was still early, so after taking in the view of the pond and the Tripyramid-Whiteface ridge behind it, I bid farewell to the pond and continued down the Flat Mountain Trail. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAFI8UbJ_HGAEm5wgDzntseZn21YqXxT17TyatDh1jzoCZ1GdzlyC5eFAR5c39UzTAbao1ikcYksy5KW6x177YLJ2kgm0Xj7cHyzKEFZsEVWZ0QrpOqAi6Jq9igWBA9qZ5xMcYL146ZF0/s1600/0921211511.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAFI8UbJ_HGAEm5wgDzntseZn21YqXxT17TyatDh1jzoCZ1GdzlyC5eFAR5c39UzTAbao1ikcYksy5KW6x177YLJ2kgm0Xj7cHyzKEFZsEVWZ0QrpOqAi6Jq9igWBA9qZ5xMcYL146ZF0/w400-h225/0921211511.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking back towards the Sleepers and Tripyramids</td></tr></tbody></table><br />From this point on, the trail followed an old railroad bed cut into the side of the hill, so it was nearly flat. Amazing how much work was done just building an infrastructure to haul out logs. After a few miles the cross slope eased up and it was easy to find a nice flat spot to tent for the night. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0yIXNiwlrgQ9O0Hbl7_R7YveJxnnRG7j67QetlNJ_1AdHLZ17KhIoyI_C-f5UIqOwoymEgd5WQWlzVQE0bUIvArsGVE5cT_1fA4tlG1_3glTmJJyZ-eD5wq4qnswSqP3TH2ZSwzKPESM/s1600/0921211546.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0yIXNiwlrgQ9O0Hbl7_R7YveJxnnRG7j67QetlNJ_1AdHLZ17KhIoyI_C-f5UIqOwoymEgd5WQWlzVQE0bUIvArsGVE5cT_1fA4tlG1_3glTmJJyZ-eD5wq4qnswSqP3TH2ZSwzKPESM/w400-h225/0921211546.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flat Mountain Pond Trail following an old logging RR line</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After setting up the tent, I came upon a moose scraping while scouting for a spot to hang my bear bag. This was about 100 feet from the tent and looked pretty active. The moose tracks and scrape marks were obvious. Moose scrapings are where a bull moose scrapes the ground and urinates onto it, and then return to see if any females have been attracted (deer also make scrapings). Any chance the moose would return that night?<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrAWS_RuSCYhph5z32-CM185N9YsQYK7WAF_0P1F-SKgls664tQlHnzYvbnPkh8jcxQnsuMB_k1Dkl9DE4z54uqs3yVKWtehzuMUB030H9n9MtDzuuP536FJtV253DtaWvTI3aTTGPztU/s1600/0921211708.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrAWS_RuSCYhph5z32-CM185N9YsQYK7WAF_0P1F-SKgls664tQlHnzYvbnPkh8jcxQnsuMB_k1Dkl9DE4z54uqs3yVKWtehzuMUB030H9n9MtDzuuP536FJtV253DtaWvTI3aTTGPztU/w226-h400/0921211708.jpg" width="226" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moose scraping near my tent site</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Yup! As soon as it was dark, I could hear the moose stamping and scraping, brush crashing, and so forth. The tent seemed pretty vulnerable for a charged up bull in excess of 1000 pounds, but I've never heard of a moose attacking a tent. I finally unzipped the tent and looked out with the headlamp, but there was too much brush and I couldn't see anything. The noise stopped, but maybe twenty minutes later he was back at it again. <p></p>Teresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04628471774296555013noreply@blogger.com0Mt Whiteface, Waterville Valley, NH 03259, USA43.9339596 -71.405907415.623725763821156 -106.5621574 72.244193436178847 -36.249657400000004tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410961879681386812.post-38268287155232947562021-09-20T18:31:00.008-04:002021-11-16T08:49:39.621-05:00Ghost Trail: Kancamagus Highway to Mt. Whiteface<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi33PBuT6UKaZUc61dshxgS8XMCo64NOIVzLhuNgaAGrLKhvA7BjMIf707toqlyfZ6UiKH-D3Xruj14g5MOMtKnPG1XnLgksS3hJUnTzyY1HICOeOcaOZ9SgCAUNHZD9RCeNqtV7jtD_rM/s2048/0911211321a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi33PBuT6UKaZUc61dshxgS8XMCo64NOIVzLhuNgaAGrLKhvA7BjMIf707toqlyfZ6UiKH-D3Xruj14g5MOMtKnPG1XnLgksS3hJUnTzyY1HICOeOcaOZ9SgCAUNHZD9RCeNqtV7jtD_rM/w400-h225/0911211321a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lily Pond at the Livermore Trailhead</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Welcome to the Ghost Trail Sobo Part 2. The goal was to backpack from the Kancamagus Highway to Plymouth, where I'd get picked up by my husband for a long weekend escape in New Hampshire. Then I'd spend the next few days slackpacking to the base of the Cardigan trail system while he golfed. <p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMY9c8uNGNkMfXoRcVV_Cjr9T9AYjbdmgVU3VHCz9pCNOvuIpfF1QKg_isOmt1dITPuV-d1HCAHrsELQMxpK-_u1S6jSC6hG4MjMo_c95LUC8KPdTJ8Xz0am1-nadtzV86XSGufZEHwuM/s1600/0920210948_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1002" data-original-width="1600" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMY9c8uNGNkMfXoRcVV_Cjr9T9AYjbdmgVU3VHCz9pCNOvuIpfF1QKg_isOmt1dITPuV-d1HCAHrsELQMxpK-_u1S6jSC6hG4MjMo_c95LUC8KPdTJ8Xz0am1-nadtzV86XSGufZEHwuM/w400-h250/0920210948_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Livermore Trail begins</td></tr></tbody></table><p>Day one was fairly ambitious for someone of my age and fitness level considering the dwindling number of daylight hours in late September, but I figured I could pull it off: A 5-hour drive followed by nine miles of hiking up and over the Tripyramids to the only water source up on the ridge, Downes Brook. It turned out to be more difficult than expected and I just barely made it. </p><p>After the long drive, I was able to back into the Livermore Trailhead parking area, which is very small. No other cars. There is a lot of parking space on the other side of the highway along Lily Pond. Check out the pond, if you have a chance. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkfs2pZfO3GDiwR301xhaO-AAyxOI7SWXBbG5dMcua51nVrqTGO9IKjsQfdx_C16PRHM3F6caJrRP-gQ430UjSCUaeU4OvRxPFQQt9303oJzP-6EtQXI4urcchTXj6G_OWhbUAYYFxmmo/s1600/0920211055.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkfs2pZfO3GDiwR301xhaO-AAyxOI7SWXBbG5dMcua51nVrqTGO9IKjsQfdx_C16PRHM3F6caJrRP-gQ430UjSCUaeU4OvRxPFQQt9303oJzP-6EtQXI4urcchTXj6G_OWhbUAYYFxmmo/w225-h400/0920211055.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Climbing up towards Livermore Pass</td></tr></tbody></table><br />It's a steady climb up to Livermore Pass at Mile 2.7. The terrain wasn't steep but was fairly tedious and slowed me down with all the slick mossy rocks. There's a rustic sign unexpectedly marking the pass, where it levels off, and the next stretch is pure mooseland. Way more moose tracks than human tracks. I became convinced there would be a moose along the trail at any moment. There were a number of wet spots in this area to navigate, so all in all Livermore Trail took longer than expected, but it was enjoyable and the weather was perfect. <div><br /><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxPPb9r0FYHG-PJrj1CM1QrIpLvOqjFXPL59efgSASjZCf1NDgI-774ZC1Jz4biJl45VIJznHNJ_JywHeZ0fnEcAFu3-QBZD8ND_jj1uV76Jyy0LXVe4AhaOwLt-dcvyfOVovgBWA0VQc/s1600/0920211132a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxPPb9r0FYHG-PJrj1CM1QrIpLvOqjFXPL59efgSASjZCf1NDgI-774ZC1Jz4biJl45VIJznHNJ_JywHeZ0fnEcAFu3-QBZD8ND_jj1uV76Jyy0LXVe4AhaOwLt-dcvyfOVovgBWA0VQc/w400-h225/0920211132a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moose Central in through here<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>This hike was bookmarked by features named Livermore, with a brush past Mt. Livermore just before the roadwalk leading into Plymouth. There's a ghost town called Livermore not far from the previously hiked section of the Ghost Trail along Sawyer River Road. Livermore was a boomtown back in the 1800s when the White Mountains were being clear cut. At one point there were between 150 and 200 people living in the town, not including the loggers. There was a sawmill, of course, and extensive train track system crossing the area used to haul the logs to it. The old track system is the foundation of some of the hiking trails. Eventually they cut all the timber and that was it for the town. The AMC hiking map for the region shows the location of Livermore and there are a few ruins left if you want to check it out. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJMwH3Qhw9ImnOE6HPAkCQwJD3Bl9aS988KDmCUk3EBSs68g6VUyTnZ5-FjvrME0C6dlzsVpPF1c0rjsQWOiKo7qLVwXQIcv59RT8eBsOIB2aWScZdy-6voQj7RLImG-n5okKX0WD0pxw/s1600/0920211143_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJMwH3Qhw9ImnOE6HPAkCQwJD3Bl9aS988KDmCUk3EBSs68g6VUyTnZ5-FjvrME0C6dlzsVpPF1c0rjsQWOiKo7qLVwXQIcv59RT8eBsOIB2aWScZdy-6voQj7RLImG-n5okKX0WD0pxw/w400-h225/0920211143_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some bits of fall color along Livermore Trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br />There are several potential water sources along this stretch. If you need to pitch a ground tent, the area just north of the junction with the Old Skidder Trail might work. There's a stream crossing. </div><div><br /></div><div>I chose to ascend Tripyramid the "easy" way by taking the Scaur Ridge Trail instead of the Tripyramid Trail. The latter just looks insane to me and it's listed as one of New Hampshire's most terrifying trails. A younger version of me dayhiking with friends would have loved it. You go up the North Slide, which is shear rock that's nearly vertical. All sources say to never, descend on this trail. So if you are northbound, you've been warned. Scaur Ridge Trail was a delightfully moderate walk up to a ridgeline, where you then hang a right onto the Pine Bend Brook Trail. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Sf4N_R9uGtSL7vuaXHqr3dfZm6QtL6biaICR8V19NAxv5jrhYpsCU4eqAh_eHL49sIpgkCZqiEiBpzI2bbcWZb8vYEwgUfcjTs4z1O8zTQzTomLa-muM4_3Sl0D5jidOyFDKtd6TrOg/s1600/0920211254a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Sf4N_R9uGtSL7vuaXHqr3dfZm6QtL6biaICR8V19NAxv5jrhYpsCU4eqAh_eHL49sIpgkCZqiEiBpzI2bbcWZb8vYEwgUfcjTs4z1O8zTQzTomLa-muM4_3Sl0D5jidOyFDKtd6TrOg/w400-h225/0920211254a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Slime mold fruiting body mass inside an old Yellow Birch,<br />Scaur Ridge Trail</td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw2p405fqkxTfO-ZLRMSAqFNMax9KuBkvz0OxlDFQpDIFYEmY8u5kREPDIapCmwChuZ5BcaZ7tk3Qbd_N7aWDqVWvE1xD85E7F7mTRcQLrAeZw9_TYmITzBmtBSzrQEKFIEPHkVChaOwo/s1600/0920211255a_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="909" data-original-width="1600" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw2p405fqkxTfO-ZLRMSAqFNMax9KuBkvz0OxlDFQpDIFYEmY8u5kREPDIapCmwChuZ5BcaZ7tk3Qbd_N7aWDqVWvE1xD85E7F7mTRcQLrAeZw9_TYmITzBmtBSzrQEKFIEPHkVChaOwo/w400-h228/0920211255a_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Close-up of young fruiting bodies<br /><i>Hemitrichia calyculata? </i>"Push Pin Slime Mold"</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br />There were a ton of mushrooms on all my Ghost Trail hikes, but what really caught my eye was a Slime Mold on the Scaur Ridge Trail where a rotting birch had the appearance of splitting open to reveal bright orange teeth. Slime Molds are not related to mushrooms, but are instead a gelatinous amoebae that can move around a few feet to a better location on a log or rock to position their fruiting bodies. In this case, the tough bark of a yellow birch kept the amoebae sealed inside, so it found a spot where the log broke in half to start fruiting. I walked by at exactly the right time. A few hours later, the young sporangia would change in appearance. In fact a common method of identification is to go back to a fruiting body every few hours to check its appearance over time. </div><br /><div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvlQs0YDgYg8lzsw0oiCT2PEwRvppd-WmuujQRDNukBkUneTJ6QXt8MR_qmdKwEp1iaLSbHAnhR2kZv9c64MhpXlwJueKVzS17kIl10TixgN4XW2lpWutjeqftZMZVH9dYkPAVoUlzDOo/s1600/0920211328.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvlQs0YDgYg8lzsw0oiCT2PEwRvppd-WmuujQRDNukBkUneTJ6QXt8MR_qmdKwEp1iaLSbHAnhR2kZv9c64MhpXlwJueKVzS17kIl10TixgN4XW2lpWutjeqftZMZVH9dYkPAVoUlzDOo/w400-h225/0920211328.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pine Bend Brook Trail following the ridgeline</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I was nearly to the top of North Tripyramid and things were going great. Pine Bend Brook Trail followed a sharp ridgeline, almost a knife's edge before heading up for the last section up the mountain. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF4xWXSTfD3DvFITLDaoJAMVeNaDv7W3DcSWkHRFjacpAvoMT2nrbox8BjaZxTkCr0K24NKtMyPI9ABNPOAwReO3V61RHRIYemE7K9Ox7xd-Cigoqff0UrynzSkjJGcFyhyjQ1EmgjTAE/s1600/0920211350.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF4xWXSTfD3DvFITLDaoJAMVeNaDv7W3DcSWkHRFjacpAvoMT2nrbox8BjaZxTkCr0K24NKtMyPI9ABNPOAwReO3V61RHRIYemE7K9Ox7xd-Cigoqff0UrynzSkjJGcFyhyjQ1EmgjTAE/w400-h225/0920211350.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pine Bend Brook Trail and the first of many scrambles</td></tr></tbody></table><br />And then....it was one difficult, slick mossy scramble after another. I had not planned for this. I had too much water in my pack (in case I didn't make it to the brook for the night). Four days of heavy food. Too many things dangling off the back of my pack that could catch on things, including a pair of Crocs that at one point snagged on a branch as I was on my hands and knees trying to climb up through a narrow gap between two trees. I got stuck for a bit trying to figure out what was going on there. At another point I ripped my pants on a sharp branch. Yet another time I had to take off my pack and shove it up the rock, then careful get up and over it, and somehow get the overloaded pack back on while standing on a steeply sloping, damp and mossy ledge. I'd get up a ledge and think that was it, I'm done with that ledge stuff and then there would be another. And another. And another. I was so done with the ledges. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi46HOzbeaQ1JDLw14twm-UI9Jr02WMOMy78z3CkG5wBTN-5L3pG-0YTTg-v1tkHD52-0vNkACLg-QoUZw4TkfEbfVcLwGe9KJV8_1vJyFm5SZy53lgvjRa0PHnqp8v_J6EIjHnDKadCiE/s1600/0920211427.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi46HOzbeaQ1JDLw14twm-UI9Jr02WMOMy78z3CkG5wBTN-5L3pG-0YTTg-v1tkHD52-0vNkACLg-QoUZw4TkfEbfVcLwGe9KJV8_1vJyFm5SZy53lgvjRa0PHnqp8v_J6EIjHnDKadCiE/w400-h225/0920211427.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking down one of the scrambles on the Pine Bend Brook Trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br />They finally did end, of course. Why didn't any of the guidebooks mention all the difficult scrambles on this "easy" route up to the top? Most people are actually taking this route down the hill, not up, and they are dayhiking, not backpacking with tons of food and water. Completely different scenario. At any rate, the top of North Tripyramid was tiny, with no view or even a sign marking the spot. A couple peakbagging guys came up from the other side, ignored me, and continued on. <br /><br /><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha17oTbDeIR69aCMMJ7hKU1-chx-sSI63Nyovs2sduVPmUVe_aKvtz3kOxbVM9pjecz5Bc_W0j9_iCY4G8IUALWSO9B037N52lWGGc-O84FCcCugSffybA6wSbNgxnO5x-lgT2JWZBIyA/s1600/0920211708.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha17oTbDeIR69aCMMJ7hKU1-chx-sSI63Nyovs2sduVPmUVe_aKvtz3kOxbVM9pjecz5Bc_W0j9_iCY4G8IUALWSO9B037N52lWGGc-O84FCcCugSffybA6wSbNgxnO5x-lgT2JWZBIyA/w400-h225/0920211708.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Up on the Tripyramids</td></tr></tbody></table><br />A passed a few more groups of men peakbagging as I followed Tripyramid Trail south to Middle and South Tripyramid. It was nice enough up there. No real views, but glimpses through the trees. A few spots where people have set up tents. <p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgJSWFYiBdvFKwWNQMAA4OM6MycQp8Lsd6v3PgPwr61beJ260H6Ml9I-NVC6FJKp2YZayFBdaB-xwjl1smE0V6zaEe0Yg2tWTVj23I5RRHrstOS5TgaNk3X0AWNDXeDpVL_cXRBwmVZG4/s1600/0920211612_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgJSWFYiBdvFKwWNQMAA4OM6MycQp8Lsd6v3PgPwr61beJ260H6Ml9I-NVC6FJKp2YZayFBdaB-xwjl1smE0V6zaEe0Yg2tWTVj23I5RRHrstOS5TgaNk3X0AWNDXeDpVL_cXRBwmVZG4/w225-h400/0920211612_HDR.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading down the "Gravel Slide"</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I'd read Mt. Tripyramid descends South Tri on the "Gravel Slide", and to "pick your way carefully" down the slide, which is supposed to be much easier than the North Slide. I was not mentally prepared for going down this slide. First, it's not gravel. Is there gravel down at the bottom or something? It's all ledge. Second, it's much longer and steeper than I expected. It's probably really easy going up. But I'm fairly afraid of heights, and looking down the endless slide with that heavy load on my back threatening to throw me off balance at any second was a real challenge. Did I mention my balance isn't very good? It happens as you get older. Thank goodness the rock was dry. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Ce_5VoEI2xn62Jv0LamgXQbs2XZFgTgUrmgfZBrq5ZgVX06ugy3yn7zH1ie3d-LwQ54EGn9CK7j0Y1S6Yb70GPRvdE_BY_SBg0WEBy0JQlIm5ISs1L-6QV5wXD6BRYjbuUluDK3XDpc/s1600/0920211620a_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Ce_5VoEI2xn62Jv0LamgXQbs2XZFgTgUrmgfZBrq5ZgVX06ugy3yn7zH1ie3d-LwQ54EGn9CK7j0Y1S6Yb70GPRvdE_BY_SBg0WEBy0JQlIm5ISs1L-6QV5wXD6BRYjbuUluDK3XDpc/w400-h225/0920211620a_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I was too terrified going down the slide to enjoy the view</td></tr></tbody></table><br />So I inched down this nerve-wracking trail, taking forever. I eagerly kept my eye out on the left for the Kate Sleeper Trail, which I'd read is easy to miss. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYUo0H0tI14s5iZrcDiMhd-pUlX2sJNmqhX6Of-hNVVuYoFCemVKQiCyDHMLgKGNPmbkGcRKLvpFT50gm6XmXKg6uEqRUqWwRqkv_1xGXnPH-KbwYT5WLfJbVQtdzRpIQWoDjMi9PWOdU/s1600/0920211630_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYUo0H0tI14s5iZrcDiMhd-pUlX2sJNmqhX6Of-hNVVuYoFCemVKQiCyDHMLgKGNPmbkGcRKLvpFT50gm6XmXKg6uEqRUqWwRqkv_1xGXnPH-KbwYT5WLfJbVQtdzRpIQWoDjMi9PWOdU/w400-h225/0920211630_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finally arriving at the Kate Sleeper Trail, thank goodness</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYS7RiXrlYGFP_c2b-UHTnUmJ8nPvYXB5aa0zL7QTlHS0iP-n7vSOYmQy46HyBaCunTS0RUB7JLpY2PIpWkk58qj34w3ROMg_YjHUn0I7-cs56gxvbdJCPw2VRm4nFNWQVz1J91i-wytc/s1600/0920211631.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYS7RiXrlYGFP_c2b-UHTnUmJ8nPvYXB5aa0zL7QTlHS0iP-n7vSOYmQy46HyBaCunTS0RUB7JLpY2PIpWkk58qj34w3ROMg_YjHUn0I7-cs56gxvbdJCPw2VRm4nFNWQVz1J91i-wytc/w400-h225/0920211631.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kate Sleeper Trail junction - easy to miss</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I was ever so happy to finally arrive at the Kate Sleeper Trail. Done with the slide! And then....<br /><br /><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirX7gw5FgU3hKQdnUZWeZSh-eiyjAOhFelr3F3yFGkvdggZW_mUYJ8GEJFMcFrxFHc4NqhFHP-CmHVArqrBS2nPZ2zKHBgyntUsjLu08ROuqhpsZ587BC7tjpaQ_KJvWwKoND3wj-axJk/s1600/0920211633_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirX7gw5FgU3hKQdnUZWeZSh-eiyjAOhFelr3F3yFGkvdggZW_mUYJ8GEJFMcFrxFHc4NqhFHP-CmHVArqrBS2nPZ2zKHBgyntUsjLu08ROuqhpsZ587BC7tjpaQ_KJvWwKoND3wj-axJk/w225-h400/0920211633_HDR.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Noooo! Another slide to inch down<br />Kate Sleeper Trail<br /><br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Another slide to go down! What? Well, there was nothing for it but to forge ahead. These scrambles and slides had really slowed me down and it was getting late. At this point I was pretty sure I was not going to make it to Downes Brook before nightfall. The Tripyramids had kicked my butt.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJMGYiq3yRjMp0PV6RjNdMPWNcgQrX6ROBabDptwVoruOKvvvrT8kHsKh39uCDVrNR34z1BGhyTX3n5AHCs8cbPeBRPo7-827_f4RP-RdNb46kzxOtXvKcLgR01Oc-lthJSb7fEYGR79I/s1600/0920211708.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJMGYiq3yRjMp0PV6RjNdMPWNcgQrX6ROBabDptwVoruOKvvvrT8kHsKh39uCDVrNR34z1BGhyTX3n5AHCs8cbPeBRPo7-827_f4RP-RdNb46kzxOtXvKcLgR01Oc-lthJSb7fEYGR79I/w400-h225/0920211708.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was so nice to stretch my legs up and over the two Sleepers</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Happily, the Kate Sleeper Trail was a piece of cake as it slid up and over West Sleeper and East Sleeper. It was so nice to finally stretch my legs and just walk. The sun was about to set while I was on East Sleeper and I was thinking of finding a spot to set up there, but the hilltop was a huge tangle of old blowdowns and new growth. Impossible. <p></p><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdr3IqzomTeaKww6AAIfT6a3llWe6MVEdnwWT_sqPlq7it4EmCavHa5enDMSlZ7U3-emAO0_UaQkfppmQ_WKZrBOXZRg4_7Iw7lvBxop36F38eUe9yhsU2cy49PX-NUJVGD8k0uL47Dbw/s1600/0920211739_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdr3IqzomTeaKww6AAIfT6a3llWe6MVEdnwWT_sqPlq7it4EmCavHa5enDMSlZ7U3-emAO0_UaQkfppmQ_WKZrBOXZRg4_7Iw7lvBxop36F38eUe9yhsU2cy49PX-NUJVGD8k0uL47Dbw/w400-h225/0920211739_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Made good time flying across the Sleepers</td></tr></tbody></table><br />But the walk down the Sleeper was quick and I arrived at Downes Brook in col between East Sleeper and Mt. Whiteface just in time to throw up my tent and hang a bear bag before it was dark. Phew! I was so happy to crawl inside and lay down for the night. The cell signal that I'd had up on the ridge was lost down in the col, but I was able to text my status using the Garmin Mini InReach. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgCR5kRyKCz5hbSp5yvX_i1GbroW31Hb0SM5YQbq39uq9J9-QVuu4Wr6T9rpNpAMjjtRsQ_xdkkb07Viu8yDaSW9CLj5HaqivaFMUorcbolMNK8rZcqugo5W05aZh6eqmv5_4C0rrT5xw/s1600/0920211851.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgCR5kRyKCz5hbSp5yvX_i1GbroW31Hb0SM5YQbq39uq9J9-QVuu4Wr6T9rpNpAMjjtRsQ_xdkkb07Viu8yDaSW9CLj5HaqivaFMUorcbolMNK8rZcqugo5W05aZh6eqmv5_4C0rrT5xw/w400-h225/0920211851.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Arrived at the Downe's Brook area at sunset<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>In Conclusion: The Tripyramids would be easier backpacking in the northbound direction. Even so, allow extra time, especially in wet weather. Also, you might not want to even bother with the Tripyramids. Another hiker is planning on doing the Ghost Trail route by way of Mt. Passaconaway. Yet another option might be to explore the Downes Brook Trail all the way to Kancamagus Highway and Passaconaway Campground. That trail looked like it gets very little hiker traffic, at least the part I saw, which is in the spirit of the Cohos and Ghost Trail route. </div></div>Teresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04628471774296555013noreply@blogger.com0Mt Tripyramid, Waterville Valley, NH 03259, USA43.968403 -71.439519415.658169163821157 -106.5957694 72.278636836178848 -36.283269399999995tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410961879681386812.post-76164272192792578782021-09-13T20:40:00.006-04:002021-11-14T17:24:50.278-05:00Ghost Trail: Carrigain Notch to Kancamagus Highway<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2bSJLX4W_a-E0tfucNsmpZDxNEmy7BkFbMka5KoiaFfneMuKV9k8DhpGry_kpZlX22eNCsoDhjmNacwut6T2crvWk7HQ_mLnzv-4iJEjSSV0D3CfFfMX5kwv0btXVclSCAcZPycQr5NM/s1600/0913210743.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2bSJLX4W_a-E0tfucNsmpZDxNEmy7BkFbMka5KoiaFfneMuKV9k8DhpGry_kpZlX22eNCsoDhjmNacwut6T2crvWk7HQ_mLnzv-4iJEjSSV0D3CfFfMX5kwv0btXVclSCAcZPycQr5NM/w400-h225/0913210743.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Headed for Desolation Trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0k2gmTlTdOATt3dQgK8n08R4dRGnSG9gmjL0kcR24O8EAwlp1CD_VWlh9z5zufsSJUXULQzjs5BSH6Ao0uSMa54AxZc-wT-2Uqqqs6Sz4J1DSPW4JCDoeqHbAkwbXsiXgq_rQHVSflmY/s1600/0913210916b.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1034" data-original-width="1600" height="129" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0k2gmTlTdOATt3dQgK8n08R4dRGnSG9gmjL0kcR24O8EAwlp1CD_VWlh9z5zufsSJUXULQzjs5BSH6Ao0uSMa54AxZc-wT-2Uqqqs6Sz4J1DSPW4JCDoeqHbAkwbXsiXgq_rQHVSflmY/w200-h129/0913210916b.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Green-Capped<br />Jelly Baby</td></tr></tbody></table>A beautiful day for hiking up Mt. Carrigain! I started from the junction of Nancy Pond Trail and Carrigain Notch Trail and had an easy warm-up stroll to the Desolation Trail junction, which was another good spot for setting up a tent. I passed a group having breakfast. From this junction, it would be an easy 7-mile walk north through the Pemi Wilderness to Zealand Trail, and then on to the Cohos Trail if someone northbound was in a hurry to get to Canada and didn't mind skipping the bottom end of the Cohos and the Presidential Range. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyxeo8jjIEBUHcwnhX8HF998j2OYcYUFTbxIyKk8MI-whLibkjXvje3Nzn4o2wBtwOxBCAuuI7uz6EIQYp0-EZ91EOOhIcWTqzgi4bw2-0dhc4AOD4-ss9JgidKGWKozd1JgXDo-WSZtc/s1600/0913210928_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyxeo8jjIEBUHcwnhX8HF998j2OYcYUFTbxIyKk8MI-whLibkjXvje3Nzn4o2wBtwOxBCAuuI7uz6EIQYp0-EZ91EOOhIcWTqzgi4bw2-0dhc4AOD4-ss9JgidKGWKozd1JgXDo-WSZtc/w400-h225/0913210928_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Desolation Trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Desolation Trail is listed as one of New Hampshire's most terrifying trails, so I had taken extra time packing and had removed all the dangly things off the back of my pack in case I needed to remove it. Got plenty of water at the trail junction, but planned to drink half of it and lighten the pack before doing the steep part, which is closer to the top. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYo5rG_AIxd9OdVMoeM5hY18uPXTbNcfdgsplcU7QOBofxntiIJd1BycwGueZEGkKPlpZHAsXnXBB2_cEErxz0TbOcGeG3QZs_nYzUHbwWEAfZyXzYHlv2zLRtWOdQ-HQZLpOU-ZyOaTQ/s1600/0913210943.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1049" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYo5rG_AIxd9OdVMoeM5hY18uPXTbNcfdgsplcU7QOBofxntiIJd1BycwGueZEGkKPlpZHAsXnXBB2_cEErxz0TbOcGeG3QZs_nYzUHbwWEAfZyXzYHlv2zLRtWOdQ-HQZLpOU-ZyOaTQ/w263-h400/0913210943.jpg" width="263" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ha, ha, ha.. that's the trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br />It wasn't that bad. Going up, that is. It's the north side of the mountain and doesn't get used that much, so there are a lot of very damp, mossy boulders and some good drop-offs to the side. So it was very slow going. At one point I came around a curve and just started laughing. The trail went straight up a rockfall. It looked worse than it was. I was always able to find a place to put my foot or grab something with my hands. That's all I ask. But that was going uphill. At one point I dropped my trekking pole and it bounced back down the trail thirty feet. Going back down to get it was a completely different experience. I was on my butt, carefully sliding off of mossy boulders to get down. So if you are going northbound, give yourself plenty of time for this descent. <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLqsQLwIYDZE5XlC38nDoazTc223SE9LiXlAwy6_3Y9jnezXjjBwV-XlCPlt1h3L0xY4o3tlp4V8p0HtNRE1znyY7VdVYTybCxR0YCbL21c0FQPQ6z3Et5vsFl9NPHlXEtfuayUZHeFos/s1600/0913211135.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLqsQLwIYDZE5XlC38nDoazTc223SE9LiXlAwy6_3Y9jnezXjjBwV-XlCPlt1h3L0xY4o3tlp4V8p0HtNRE1znyY7VdVYTybCxR0YCbL21c0FQPQ6z3Et5vsFl9NPHlXEtfuayUZHeFos/w400-h225/0913211135.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Up in the Carrigain Tower</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>There's a tower up at the top that no one should ever skip during clear weather, and the views were just spectacular in every direction. It was much colder up above the trees and the wind was just blasting. Very dramatic. I especially enjoyed looking back towards the Presidential Range and seeing the distinctive steps of Stairs Mountain, where I'd spent the night a few days back. </div><div><br /></div><div>There had been no cell phone service since the hillside just above Nancy Cascades, but there was service at top of Carrigain. Some guy came past, heading down Desolation Trail and talking on his phone, telling his listener that he was calling now because he didn't know how much longer he would have a signal. I think his service probably cut out after 5 or 10 seconds. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsfASg_vYJ_TjwGtiQJZVfI1ZZSmDk6FKrKCcpQSc8wLyuWNnsA9lqCcuq-yGL-Q2Y3GejPDKMVwW__4QaSYqywjGfge1oxufniCE97q3raNNqFByvzuwyQjmzFiFOodXGVY75Ub167FI/s1600/0913211122_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsfASg_vYJ_TjwGtiQJZVfI1ZZSmDk6FKrKCcpQSc8wLyuWNnsA9lqCcuq-yGL-Q2Y3GejPDKMVwW__4QaSYqywjGfge1oxufniCE97q3raNNqFByvzuwyQjmzFiFOodXGVY75Ub167FI/w400-h225/0913211122_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking forward towards the Lakes Region<br />(from under the tower)</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I could post a million photos here of the views from the tower, but that stuff is all over the Internet, so here's one looking forward (southbound towards the Lakes Region) and one looking back. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrgBASGIhFgdGDKPYFFYAUAih6eoziKWiWmElIAT1LQ2BZj4sKYvvKyGcvDrNthS2k-g3NoW0fPNAPCCfWeQ2lHNdqK9vr5L8B5FUBu4i5cT81II6Ii1m9WZV7M6zVkYOWzmbp1DHAmxw/s1600/0913211131.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrgBASGIhFgdGDKPYFFYAUAih6eoziKWiWmElIAT1LQ2BZj4sKYvvKyGcvDrNthS2k-g3NoW0fPNAPCCfWeQ2lHNdqK9vr5L8B5FUBu4i5cT81II6Ii1m9WZV7M6zVkYOWzmbp1DHAmxw/w400-h225/0913211131.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking back towards the Presidential Range</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div>There was a designated camping spot just below the summit. No water. The Ghost Trail follows the Signal Ridge Trail down the south side of Mt. Carrigain. This is the easier, more accessible trail going up the mountain for people climbing up to get a view or to check off another 4,000-footer. This was a Monday in September, but I still passed a number of day hikers on their way up. </div><div><br /></div><div>The first part of the Signal Ridge Trail was beautiful as it followed the ridgeline through stunted trees. This was the spot for taking a nice break (the tower was too cold and windy). And then there was long, tedious descent on an eroded popular trail. Water trickled out of the hillside in a few places, probably not a reliable source of water at all times. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibsbISe3rkoxBkYS4i1ttMiEY7tK3EErOZba_HfnQGQeGgEoTEJFnq9WkP8TiL53riLdv2ae_2sX-qSfgaA0UQ0AWK8giwhBY6IjdnaEayoTo-Ev4PEn7tmHl-zFcN1oWlkizrg1XC7q0/s1600/0913211203a_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibsbISe3rkoxBkYS4i1ttMiEY7tK3EErOZba_HfnQGQeGgEoTEJFnq9WkP8TiL53riLdv2ae_2sX-qSfgaA0UQ0AWK8giwhBY6IjdnaEayoTo-Ev4PEn7tmHl-zFcN1oWlkizrg1XC7q0/w400-h225/0913211203a_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Signal Ridge Trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br />My original plan was to take the mountain slow, camp at the bottom of Mt. Carrigain, and then the next day would be a leisurely stroll to my car spotted on the Kancamagus Highway. Then there would be the five-hour drive home with plenty of daylight. But I wasn't ready to stop when I got to the junction with Carrigain Notch Trail, so continued down the Signal Ridge Trail. You know, "just a bit further."<br /><br /><br /><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjREtGU0xR8bO7XfpHZOOCLP_faO4UtRbG8Lm9QL9IWMh7uLKET_OuZFv1voQxPoDbdjIDr3ozAGktQuhmStpEmGRiGKLy25izjN9M1MEpeXedlS6oUEY_3bs1uzkzd9I6Cp1p2P_Ihq24/s664/Fullscreen+capture+11142021+50808+PM.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="664" data-original-width="527" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjREtGU0xR8bO7XfpHZOOCLP_faO4UtRbG8Lm9QL9IWMh7uLKET_OuZFv1voQxPoDbdjIDr3ozAGktQuhmStpEmGRiGKLy25izjN9M1MEpeXedlS6oUEY_3bs1uzkzd9I6Cp1p2P_Ihq24/w318-h400/Fullscreen+capture+11142021+50808+PM.jpg" width="318" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The shortcut not taken</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>There are two options for connecting the Signal Ridge Trail to the Sawyer River Trail. The safest bet was to stay on the Signal Ridge Trail all the way to Sawyer River Road, then walk along the gravel road to the Sawyer River Trailhead. But the maps showed an old road running alongside Carrigain Brook that might serve as a more direct route, eliminating the need for the long roadway, and that was my original plan. I found the old road OK, and started down it a few steps, but it didn't look like it got used much. There were trees across it and no tread. I imagined impassible swampy areas along the brook, or maybe the old road would just disappear, so I turned around and continued down Signal Ridge Trail, which at that point was super easy and I was flying. But shortly after that, the trail became more tedious, with a number of wet spots to pick through. And then the road walk was all uphill and seemed to take forever. </div><div><br /></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_-XaqDPisQqgzrHMPibkU2jnPllvxuI2FrZKV7Vq34B2mtU1Aa1Ta6lzlt8r-0DdgWQkTP1kts6ao7QiEs0VfSCpQR2nOgqvwvbachDKmzrsaolPfFo293fkjAKS1ljSkf_DBj9AEx_E/s1600/0913211440a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_-XaqDPisQqgzrHMPibkU2jnPllvxuI2FrZKV7Vq34B2mtU1Aa1Ta6lzlt8r-0DdgWQkTP1kts6ao7QiEs0VfSCpQR2nOgqvwvbachDKmzrsaolPfFo293fkjAKS1ljSkf_DBj9AEx_E/w400-h225/0913211440a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Signal Ridge Trail junction with potential shortcut<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtkGR9AjRbE7-VlTfFUQOcOgU6sAuMv2B3IdMgdvrEtmr8AUAqK5Wt_5eZvbR5BedzQ-fIUZEqLzaMdJRuX8MZBNI8wI6biNorzYOuoK2ZkjnwpzeUUe33l_uBTqOzmYFhesHXBuIq9JU/s1600/0913211534.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtkGR9AjRbE7-VlTfFUQOcOgU6sAuMv2B3IdMgdvrEtmr8AUAqK5Wt_5eZvbR5BedzQ-fIUZEqLzaMdJRuX8MZBNI8wI6biNorzYOuoK2ZkjnwpzeUUe33l_uBTqOzmYFhesHXBuIq9JU/w400-h225/0913211534.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sawyer River Road</td></tr></tbody></table><br />So when I finally passed the far end of that potential cut-off trail, I wished I'd at least tried it. If it's clear enough to walk, it would definitely be the better route. Here's a photo of the south end of the cutoff if anyone is nobo and wants to try it. It's pretty close to the end of Sawyer River Road and the parking area. There's a line of big boulders placed across the road and sign indicating no camping in that spot. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvlzkIhw3KohvlcoLvbq8DdSawR8pG-bB1i7KWUzHmCBWre5XNQEb9DVVucl-h1kqwV1shJNa-bJmNJslcHxRqLhC7VZZs3uTmE5nNi2AOP28fdfJy0WWW42s8wuXztq-ho1CoSoicDTA/s1600/0913211547.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvlzkIhw3KohvlcoLvbq8DdSawR8pG-bB1i7KWUzHmCBWre5XNQEb9DVVucl-h1kqwV1shJNa-bJmNJslcHxRqLhC7VZZs3uTmE5nNi2AOP28fdfJy0WWW42s8wuXztq-ho1CoSoicDTA/w400-h225/0913211547.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Far end of that potential cut-off at Sawyer River Road<br />(sign says 'no camping')</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The road finally ended at a good-sized parking lot which would have been the perfect place to leave my car if I had known it existed. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi82OY2LY_m1Ap5t_951xtlgZDdtG4T4gjHyH4F3OIboY_UgDttCPVWyjXSX3RJGZsLIfs4L6Bu5o3GBSWPMwBRSJKxT6nuWObKn5I0LEYnv9EYrbuvOLVOCUkbUa0q2s0NTBKqd0PkemI/s1600/0913211554.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi82OY2LY_m1Ap5t_951xtlgZDdtG4T4gjHyH4F3OIboY_UgDttCPVWyjXSX3RJGZsLIfs4L6Bu5o3GBSWPMwBRSJKxT6nuWObKn5I0LEYnv9EYrbuvOLVOCUkbUa0q2s0NTBKqd0PkemI/w400-h225/0913211554.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sawyer River Trail begins.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Sawyer River Trail runs for about four easy miles through lowlands to the Kancamagus Highway. Parts were along groomed snowmobile trails (probably old logging railroad beds) and were super easy. A few other parts were slower through muddy areas or fording brooks, and I had a least one occasion of trying to figure out which way the trail went. Mostly the footing was very good, though. There are a number of stream crossings here that look like they would be difficult in high water. Most of the trail is a bit of a blur because by this point I was trying to get to my car and just drive home that night and was going as fast as I could. I was thinking about canning tomatoes from the garden and stuff like that. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwtYyd3gm905IiGHeMExaotsTzWpGA-ej4YuEYPJd_oBzkpwtXemUk40BXukz2eZIdg-aqC7cmLEYamTyaabIY6cuUTjZyx-pS0gcX2VovA361NYHdEf26Q9Eejp-QOIcDC6UPWGLD70s/s1600/0913211642_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwtYyd3gm905IiGHeMExaotsTzWpGA-ej4YuEYPJd_oBzkpwtXemUk40BXukz2eZIdg-aqC7cmLEYamTyaabIY6cuUTjZyx-pS0gcX2VovA361NYHdEf26Q9Eejp-QOIcDC6UPWGLD70s/w400-h225/0913211642_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sawyer River Trail</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>So I did make it out to the highway a day early, and then had to walk uphill another 3/4 mile to my car shortly before sunset. It was a long, dark drive home back to Connecticut, getting home around 10 pm. Parking at the end of Sawyer River Road would have worked much better, and then the next trip I would have had a good walk to the base of Tripyramid after the five hour drive up, camping overnight and heading up Tripyramid fresh. That's not what happened, but that's another post. </div><div><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwOKqOY0ZzKipEc0fRuIrlp_88Eouf1jjoAXRlwIHb7JdZLQWzaS4S2iiHc62YJk0h4NqTSDOHYREUorozcuqEkhGSmmbeea7k5_xirnQ1mfZbukAQGR66EPaYe47i-3MQ9mXiOXeHBQg/s1600/0913211720.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwOKqOY0ZzKipEc0fRuIrlp_88Eouf1jjoAXRlwIHb7JdZLQWzaS4S2iiHc62YJk0h4NqTSDOHYREUorozcuqEkhGSmmbeea7k5_xirnQ1mfZbukAQGR66EPaYe47i-3MQ9mXiOXeHBQg/w400-h225/0913211720.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Swift River</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p></div>Teresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04628471774296555013noreply@blogger.com0Mt Carrigain, New Hampshire, USA44.0944912 -71.447359615.784257363821155 -106.6036096 72.404725036178846 -36.2911096tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410961879681386812.post-50338036281301291862021-09-12T17:00:00.273-04:002021-11-13T18:19:54.016-05:00Ghost Trail: Crawford Notch to Carrigain Notch<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijaIPrc5Tx_QV_slBxIWdylv-q-dmXxUY4TEzr9qSU9KleTY3feZJUX8VQP8EA-BvEpovbExr7EC55Q2mTOwpm-xpPCVenb11tRJGCVhum0_wprWujwQFx_a6d2aodbP1p408FEjXxoDM/s1372/0912211011%257E3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1372" data-original-width="1119" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijaIPrc5Tx_QV_slBxIWdylv-q-dmXxUY4TEzr9qSU9KleTY3feZJUX8VQP8EA-BvEpovbExr7EC55Q2mTOwpm-xpPCVenb11tRJGCVhum0_wprWujwQFx_a6d2aodbP1p408FEjXxoDM/w326-h400/0912211011%257E3.jpg" width="326" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Starting at the Cohos trailhead...<br />but walking south down the highway </td></tr></tbody></table><br />Let the Ghost Trail hiking begin! After a couple rainy days of being a lazy tourist in Lincoln, we spotted my car on the Kancamagus Highway at Lily Pond and I was dropped off at the big parking lot off Rt 302 for the Davis Path (and Cohos Trail). But instead of heading north up the Cohos, this time I headed south down the highway until I got to the Nancy Pond trailhead. The parking area for Nancy Pond Trail is pretty small. If you need to spot a car, the Davis Path lot is a better bet. <div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPWOQVTsQHcdbwXhv96-dInYEGLNxjD02eL6PLMFHxTVyB1ZiJWtPAg-OwLmTWZGpcjPLpkngIr_yBFInmegjym4UdCXn0rxP8K6E-9Te9iB4tIuCBTRg0tpy5PvGWhWPmZnHxfZpsI7E/s1600/0912211200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPWOQVTsQHcdbwXhv96-dInYEGLNxjD02eL6PLMFHxTVyB1ZiJWtPAg-OwLmTWZGpcjPLpkngIr_yBFInmegjym4UdCXn0rxP8K6E-9Te9iB4tIuCBTRg0tpy5PvGWhWPmZnHxfZpsI7E/w400-h225/0912211200.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nancy Pond Trail, quite civilized</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The first part of the trail seems to be a fairly popular day hike, with people going as far as the lower cascades and then turning around. This was a Sunday morning, and I saw maybe 4 or 5 groups of dayhikers. The trail heads moderately uphill, never far from Nancy Brook, and never difficult up to the Cascades, which are pretty far up the slope. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgO5qzlB9B-S2z4WeVSCnxzvzLmKtnR3luJV5KSMXbV7s_KvF-S3DCJIGm9_3uDQuWmmRrb4LhcqbERntbcz71vAWI0F1EitfmUACSqQaM1t_KMI4zkxC8RXoVyKied3fN6ZabVS8Ye_o/s1600/0912211249.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="980" data-original-width="1600" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgO5qzlB9B-S2z4WeVSCnxzvzLmKtnR3luJV5KSMXbV7s_KvF-S3DCJIGm9_3uDQuWmmRrb4LhcqbERntbcz71vAWI0F1EitfmUACSqQaM1t_KMI4zkxC8RXoVyKied3fN6ZabVS8Ye_o/w400-h245/0912211249.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nancy Cascades, the lower section</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxNi69OggdG-mjRTij6FX-h7Dlten5L5c0yd30vk_w5Zj4NCeTxHqPFgDiyzx6xrLzWni4oJjSP0NdlkkzK3-uJJQK0GIcJ_bSXdvo8PeMofpT_hHdgGBQFelf8FCj4fpnP9g8E5zp-Qg/s1600/0912211633.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1300" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxNi69OggdG-mjRTij6FX-h7Dlten5L5c0yd30vk_w5Zj4NCeTxHqPFgDiyzx6xrLzWni4oJjSP0NdlkkzK3-uJJQK0GIcJ_bSXdvo8PeMofpT_hHdgGBQFelf8FCj4fpnP9g8E5zp-Qg/w163-h200/0912211633.jpg" width="163" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Woolly Chanterelle<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>There are a lot of things up here named after Nancy Barton, including a mountain and a pond. Nancy, the story goes, got engaged to a coworker in Jefferson, gave her dowry to him, and then was abandoned. Nancy followed him to Crawford Notch in the middle of winter, but his campfire was cold. She continued searching in the snow and was found frozen to death beside the brook. Her lover then went insane and died a few years later. His ghost may still haunt the valley. So they say. </div><div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_2hFn6LYxRSo3qaE8eD8DRpY1QkoZjEaghxuRVRJ-czE-4tqW0sUt0BMceBguzUeRhfJyHPiaJ0oouvo0tS5Mdz4Ce5Q9tMSAS5zyiop1yVOgCgJBtmFSGUpALrb5h2MRyE8Omm7nCmY/s1600/0912211255.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_2hFn6LYxRSo3qaE8eD8DRpY1QkoZjEaghxuRVRJ-czE-4tqW0sUt0BMceBguzUeRhfJyHPiaJ0oouvo0tS5Mdz4Ce5Q9tMSAS5zyiop1yVOgCgJBtmFSGUpALrb5h2MRyE8Omm7nCmY/w400-h266/0912211255.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking back at Stairs Mountain, <br />where I tented along the Cohos a few days ago</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The trail immediately gets much steeper and more difficult after Nancy Cascades. Glad I was going uphill. A pair of backpackers were coming down and taking it slow and easy. Nancy Brook was still nearby, with some additional dramatic cascades that the dayhikers don't see. And there are glimpses through the trees back at the Montalban Ridge and the Cohos Trail where I'd been a few days earlier. Stairs Mountain was really distinctive and I used it repeatedly over the next few days to get my bearings. There was also cell phone reception for two seconds. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxkPpcdLx4U068uPr8jic_m4DzCMljKMWSH-rHSR_fr7aMNTz0ACS6dCdas-_xvqXNwoHcNad7bkA5BDGB7xAW34dwtxdV8GyGbHB12gzJE1BCIbAAFxRavLygbNvfXIKSXfFj64gR7Rs/s1600/0912211308.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxkPpcdLx4U068uPr8jic_m4DzCMljKMWSH-rHSR_fr7aMNTz0ACS6dCdas-_xvqXNwoHcNad7bkA5BDGB7xAW34dwtxdV8GyGbHB12gzJE1BCIbAAFxRavLygbNvfXIKSXfFj64gR7Rs/w225-h400/0912211308.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pretty steep above the cascades</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After the steep section, the trail leveled off and the climbing was done for the day. The terrain on the high plateau was poorly drained, so typical of the White Mountains. Water can't get through the granite. Some areas had a lot of roots and others had bog walks. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixr0uCUzvk82ra3MGzE3SqJcZwhe6P1HLsRL1KkZK5JHo7OEQ2gNyxOQsxgNRphZSINnRkPpl_dz6AXYqx1diL1-AqfKfoXO_J63TatKo2krvyhZuUSCJYhWjp9kSvD91QJuel63MgmAI/s1600/0912211354.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixr0uCUzvk82ra3MGzE3SqJcZwhe6P1HLsRL1KkZK5JHo7OEQ2gNyxOQsxgNRphZSINnRkPpl_dz6AXYqx1diL1-AqfKfoXO_J63TatKo2krvyhZuUSCJYhWjp9kSvD91QJuel63MgmAI/w400-h225/0912211354.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bog walks on actual bogs</td></tr></tbody></table><br />There are two lovely ponds up here, the first being Nancy Pond. The place was deserted. Didn't see a soul this entire stretch. It was great. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6ZKvbUl9bhwfCnv1z_EMoAbUXqIpFK8Hv38jBtLIdA9tHwbwwOD6zBfaQDyMQuolhDLw_qlBFlp4ZzsHhMIn-yMGn58OnOxGbd3LGskd4Kq-r0qPopvyMfdPoRneXQR0cn2x7Ok-Gh64/s1600/0912211408_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6ZKvbUl9bhwfCnv1z_EMoAbUXqIpFK8Hv38jBtLIdA9tHwbwwOD6zBfaQDyMQuolhDLw_qlBFlp4ZzsHhMIn-yMGn58OnOxGbd3LGskd4Kq-r0qPopvyMfdPoRneXQR0cn2x7Ok-Gh64/w400-h225/0912211408_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Arriving at Nancy Pond</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicuyn_GkUPxZIcyIjMUTOJgzmwEuZ1PBz5E-w6UW6xagVTaUthKxe3zp5hkjcfVk6vRS7vanfsaxKapQCiAWO9YQ2ow69G7rWGcdKEl5_vi1hm1RXTy1OQcNDKsw0NhF6ZJMecc1sFWmA/s1600/0912211410a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicuyn_GkUPxZIcyIjMUTOJgzmwEuZ1PBz5E-w6UW6xagVTaUthKxe3zp5hkjcfVk6vRS7vanfsaxKapQCiAWO9YQ2ow69G7rWGcdKEl5_vi1hm1RXTy1OQcNDKsw0NhF6ZJMecc1sFWmA/w400-h225/0912211410a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nancy Pond</td></tr></tbody></table><br />There were bogs near the pond with carnivorous Pitcher Plants and other classic bog plants like Black Spruce and Tamarack. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsd4JhteyvNN_1YLpKAIm6g6Hsr89Im8m-W6DNVfvxlfCInu_xt1_HD8CL4zyvbL8hN9vYV7phnY3QRIZdXnD1Jo1yTO2HEjnoIb3lizif8cgd69tyNt3ShEKoRpZYbL3hNxsKHY7_fdI/s1600/0912211418.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1089" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsd4JhteyvNN_1YLpKAIm6g6Hsr89Im8m-W6DNVfvxlfCInu_xt1_HD8CL4zyvbL8hN9vYV7phnY3QRIZdXnD1Jo1yTO2HEjnoIb3lizif8cgd69tyNt3ShEKoRpZYbL3hNxsKHY7_fdI/w273-h400/0912211418.jpg" width="273" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pitcher Plant</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Nancy Cascades and Nancy Pond are located within the Nancy Pond Research Natural Area. The USDA website says this area has one of the largest tracts of virgin forest in the Northeast. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIFBiDYNBjSGaTrMZoBHz63VTVmH9z8_KO-Kd7UP056_hFjgYeUzsZ4S5f_J-2JJbEDVAMIt-ErIFANSYIHxJyVQJq0dPuE-A7GpS5Gy5kkVUcJc70m64HjaSBBZEmwcP3r94pP5eVgpQ/s1600/0912211425a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIFBiDYNBjSGaTrMZoBHz63VTVmH9z8_KO-Kd7UP056_hFjgYeUzsZ4S5f_J-2JJbEDVAMIt-ErIFANSYIHxJyVQJq0dPuE-A7GpS5Gy5kkVUcJc70m64HjaSBBZEmwcP3r94pP5eVgpQ/w400-h225/0912211425a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Entering the Pemi Wilderness</td></tr></tbody></table><br />And then the trail enters the Pemigewasset Wilderness. This area once had the largest logging railroad system in the White Mountains, with a billion board feet of timber removed. Parts of the trail later on seemed to be following these old roads and railroad beds. No mechanized equipment is allowed in the Wilderness area, so no chain saws, and there are some special rules regarding camping. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjan1un4rUGsH_8VoeiY-FIHeIc0MA4HIhjSszDK1DfF7wIbdaRgeidKWpwu134RXQ5bnZg4rKmLspQgEe5vcSTXD_oDT3xlcN-esIzacBZWFOgKH-E2aVi2c4giffI5RRiGCXsQhEBoMk/s1600/0912211434a_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="956" data-original-width="1600" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjan1un4rUGsH_8VoeiY-FIHeIc0MA4HIhjSszDK1DfF7wIbdaRgeidKWpwu134RXQ5bnZg4rKmLspQgEe5vcSTXD_oDT3xlcN-esIzacBZWFOgKH-E2aVi2c4giffI5RRiGCXsQhEBoMk/w400-h239/0912211434a_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Norcross Pond, heading for the far side</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The weather was getting a little dramatic as I came to Norcross Pond, windy and threatening rain. At the far end of the pond is an area where it looks like people camp, but there was a sign that said no camping. Maybe it used to be a legit site, they move the designated camping sites around to keep areas from getting overused. Or maybe people just don't follow the rules. The trail was a bit confused going through the no-camping area, but after checking the map, the trail clearly crossed the pond outlet. At the outlet, the mountains off to the west were suddenly obscured and you know what that means. Rain is about to hit. Which it did. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvfzmS1MKvQocXMVrdnT9wOkFbMW-xlmgIiLgm8_sgZKQcaES5eiHGHV9Ctjo0cXvYFCZ6QzyaxHvoWxQHI2lpJNrPUQpS-ewO_PEQLRYRr8BgsXTiVaRnR6XblkegtXutK-Nmb8eUFrY/s1600/0912211457.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvfzmS1MKvQocXMVrdnT9wOkFbMW-xlmgIiLgm8_sgZKQcaES5eiHGHV9Ctjo0cXvYFCZ6QzyaxHvoWxQHI2lpJNrPUQpS-ewO_PEQLRYRr8BgsXTiVaRnR6XblkegtXutK-Nmb8eUFrY/w400-h225/0912211457.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Far side of Norcross Pond, at the outlet, <br />incoming rain obscuring the mountains</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I ducked back into the trees, which stopped most of the rain, and the trail from this point was super easy. It went gradually downhill for a few miles through beautiful forests, often on old roads or railroad beds from back in the day, now seasoned with moose poop. The rain didn't last long, and then the sun was back out. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilzboqReFbEdhUMpRaa2Se9FxoaBJC9ai9xHc4h79653QTweZkBUIPKbLiqfPtrWQ4sSevFp9NmVh-cJ9Q9bsQQYoMOXLZSMvTnUpyTCNpDEOUdigakfzhbWJsO85uzeNv3rdJte8bkFI/s1600/0912211613.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilzboqReFbEdhUMpRaa2Se9FxoaBJC9ai9xHc4h79653QTweZkBUIPKbLiqfPtrWQ4sSevFp9NmVh-cJ9Q9bsQQYoMOXLZSMvTnUpyTCNpDEOUdigakfzhbWJsO85uzeNv3rdJte8bkFI/w400-h225/0912211613.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just me and the moose on this trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxNi69OggdG-mjRTij6FX-h7Dlten5L5c0yd30vk_w5Zj4NCeTxHqPFgDiyzx6xrLzWni4oJjSP0NdlkkzK3-uJJQK0GIcJ_bSXdvo8PeMofpT_hHdgGBQFelf8FCj4fpnP9g8E5zp-Qg/s1600/0912211633.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1300" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxNi69OggdG-mjRTij6FX-h7Dlten5L5c0yd30vk_w5Zj4NCeTxHqPFgDiyzx6xrLzWni4oJjSP0NdlkkzK3-uJJQK0GIcJ_bSXdvo8PeMofpT_hHdgGBQFelf8FCj4fpnP9g8E5zp-Qg/w163-h200/0912211633.jpg" width="163" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Woolly Chanterelle<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Before long I came to the junction with Carrigain Notch Trail, where I had read there were tent sites. There was nothing designated per se, but walking into the woods in this area revealed a number of workable tent sites. One was already taken, so I found another and set up my tent. And then, of course, found a better site while looking to hang my bear bag. No one else came to camp in the area and it was wonderfully peaceful. Overall, a great day. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgArrEb8QhPLUW1DjcmsW1bMHkYOyjeHE2ilFZCy2Cw2vmtc4KZeV4rjy6GUkUCAVlsUtEYaCcApFaNjBgwTAZYkCbobqTr6EfzwS6n7i61m_OoVi-noInrfiu_qefRW74x2_Vh7e7Hacc/s1600/0912211631.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgArrEb8QhPLUW1DjcmsW1bMHkYOyjeHE2ilFZCy2Cw2vmtc4KZeV4rjy6GUkUCAVlsUtEYaCcApFaNjBgwTAZYkCbobqTr6EfzwS6n7i61m_OoVi-noInrfiu_qefRW74x2_Vh7e7Hacc/w400-h225/0912211631.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Following old roads/railroads made this part easy</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p></div>Teresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04628471774296555013noreply@blogger.com02 Morey Rd, Hart's Location, NH 03812, USA44.1143934 -71.355477744.065086434607494 -71.424142250781244 44.1637003653925 -71.286813149218744tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410961879681386812.post-41350546125758362462021-09-09T19:22:00.078-04:002021-11-11T20:02:25.758-05:00Cohos Trail: Mt. Eisenhower to Bretton Woods<p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIkhUs5A2QLwNMuSJzakYcz8obT8u0Ti4J3_D57OThAZKgQV5u-eV-68jStnmPewg1zusAZ12fFJ1UlknBIRhBYf0CQXcVE0yeZAm1d5vnz4J6EvLq34MuzAFTpjn-9eVSiYEou6rO_3Y/s1600/0909210905.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIkhUs5A2QLwNMuSJzakYcz8obT8u0Ti4J3_D57OThAZKgQV5u-eV-68jStnmPewg1zusAZ12fFJ1UlknBIRhBYf0CQXcVE0yeZAm1d5vnz4J6EvLq34MuzAFTpjn-9eVSiYEou6rO_3Y/w400-h225/0909210905.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eisenhower Trail is lovely</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>Well, you just never know. As they say, hope for the best and prepare for the worst. I was resigned to a day of heavy rain after two gloriously perfect weather days, but the heavy rains held off. A few scattered showers, but those moody days can be pretty neat. </div><div><br /></div><div>The trail up Mt Eisenhower was wonderful. I didn't see a soul on it. Not steep or difficult. I'd pondered taking the longer Cohos option (Dry River Trail up to Mt. Monroe), but I'm glad I took the Eisenhower Trail up. It's one of those trails that gets just enough foot traffic to keep it clear, but not so much that it gets eroded. Most trails that go up a mountain in this area are so terribly eroded that you are typically going boulder to boulder to boulder all the way up. Not so with this trail. Just walk up the trail and breath in the air. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimFpPFEyRDohcMIuyWFh7DWQmB0buo0c-FD-gilGq9WK6kbxPjQxKQX0wOgtxXkx24KtPOeaeVV8NQCCUDch65APiwFaolpWFo0gjhL3pjRqpUvoDezv3w8uTIH_M07ptB8WfBwXOx2U0/s1600/0909211022a_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimFpPFEyRDohcMIuyWFh7DWQmB0buo0c-FD-gilGq9WK6kbxPjQxKQX0wOgtxXkx24KtPOeaeVV8NQCCUDch65APiwFaolpWFo0gjhL3pjRqpUvoDezv3w8uTIH_M07ptB8WfBwXOx2U0/w400-h225/0909211022a_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mt. Eisenhower on the right from the Mt. Eisenhower Trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The forest was drippy, but it didn't rain at all until I broke the treeline. It was warm enough for shorts going up, but as soon as I hit the treeline I was blasted with a cold wind and some light rain, long enough to don some new layers. New rain pants, yay. Amazing how much colder it can be up there. But the spigot turned off pretty quickly and left some moody low clouds skipping about. It was another world. WOW. Just wow. Everything was amazing. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBqvYq89bu0TNev5ViAQmU9ibw6qYaRtgMwmZ14dtEn18ecJzdt0FlWC4YNx3e7GPTuwuHBcg3wkgfsNWPIZnkVv8qyaTH4Wlz7Ba7tc5zKWzcgG89shSFSv71m8cBAZJoTBmyu-AiRrA/s1600/0909211044a_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBqvYq89bu0TNev5ViAQmU9ibw6qYaRtgMwmZ14dtEn18ecJzdt0FlWC4YNx3e7GPTuwuHBcg3wkgfsNWPIZnkVv8qyaTH4Wlz7Ba7tc5zKWzcgG89shSFSv71m8cBAZJoTBmyu-AiRrA/w400-h225/0909211044a_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mt. Eisenhower ahead, Bretton Woods down below</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After slowly wandering up the trail gawking at the views and alpine plants and stuff, the trail broke over the ridge and the mountains off to the north were suddenly in view. More WOW. And then there were people. I hadn't seen anyone all day, and the day before only saw one set of hikers all day. But there were people all over the Crawford Path, which is also the Appalachian Trail. It was a nice reminder about what makes the Cohos Trail special, following the lesser-used paths. But all the same, I didn't mind chatting with some hikers after a few days alone. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUuzlr-Z6_J6bhDQgKgiRWuN2RvjwN5F1NgpGvW1LTlkJusnWcGpIaI7J9xcjCdw3htu_cqyFGH9-ffKNDOiXzn62enwwKHGvS8MyOmPnqXBDpaKiDdMUJji2jjn4fSv3YmGcloUkc4Sg/s1600/0909211046_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUuzlr-Z6_J6bhDQgKgiRWuN2RvjwN5F1NgpGvW1LTlkJusnWcGpIaI7J9xcjCdw3htu_cqyFGH9-ffKNDOiXzn62enwwKHGvS8MyOmPnqXBDpaKiDdMUJji2jjn4fSv3YmGcloUkc4Sg/w400-h225/0909211046_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stashed my heavy pack near this little pond <br />before going up Eisenhower</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The Cohos follows the Crawford Path a short ways before turning down the Edmand's Path. At this point you have the option of detouring up the top of Mt. Eisenhower. Which I did after stashing my heavy pack near a little pond up on the ridge. Clouds had rolled in and it was all moody. Super cool. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8xVJh6y1IpZmvLck5ihSE7Tx0j8N_SpTVHh_6q8CfzgmiqODOCQuMaYflBg_7YrLRBWjWa3f8VHKOmriOXqs2_vCNH-Yn907WJ3xItsKDPQ_R3OKR5UwKjxlSx9eI9ObJ1CKoCjWkMxU/s1600/0909211111.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8xVJh6y1IpZmvLck5ihSE7Tx0j8N_SpTVHh_6q8CfzgmiqODOCQuMaYflBg_7YrLRBWjWa3f8VHKOmriOXqs2_vCNH-Yn907WJ3xItsKDPQ_R3OKR5UwKjxlSx9eI9ObJ1CKoCjWkMxU/w400-h225/0909211111.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clouds take over Mt. Eisenhower</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Groups of hikers wearing brightly colored hiking attire came down the hill. A pair of young women were up ahead of me and I chatted with them later on at the summit. They were doing the hut-to-hut thing and had forgotten their rain gear. A solo hiker popped up from some other trail and joined the group chat. Everyone had their own hike going on, but we all had the Mt. Eisenhower summit on our agenda. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixpdXxDIPBjR5LuVbtxDwZUOVBGBfXLbsPDHA4CGtgo7eMDWzVQCgIlB4vBaO4wJjDjcVchN7Q266TE5TMzALUWCU24l3ltoYrRCdAq-vRwCoMuegnBdbrz0bt6P239sKlYirBN7ZbvWQ/s1600/0909211112a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixpdXxDIPBjR5LuVbtxDwZUOVBGBfXLbsPDHA4CGtgo7eMDWzVQCgIlB4vBaO4wJjDjcVchN7Q266TE5TMzALUWCU24l3ltoYrRCdAq-vRwCoMuegnBdbrz0bt6P239sKlYirBN7ZbvWQ/w400-h225/0909211112a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Strike a pose! Hut-to-hut hikers at the top of Eisenhower</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The descent back down to the pond where my pack was also super cool. The trail is heavily used and the tread not too slick. I passed more groups of brightly colored hikers. Everyone was super nice. Hikers usually are. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjubi79ruvbLT5SxkP3YVZifch-yM3-MiQotDdpgIZVZr_3VdB5FoJsBs9nljR-dzV-aOLhi_1Vw477dd-9zyIsr8AGUzFemM_54Tf2i5vYe7renTuTFVqYSLVGcdkk1C3iDPfQ2EcetrM/s1600/0909211129.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjubi79ruvbLT5SxkP3YVZifch-yM3-MiQotDdpgIZVZr_3VdB5FoJsBs9nljR-dzV-aOLhi_1Vw477dd-9zyIsr8AGUzFemM_54Tf2i5vYe7renTuTFVqYSLVGcdkk1C3iDPfQ2EcetrM/w400-h225/0909211129.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Last season blueberries were still tasty</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The alpine zone is so interesting and I regret that I didn't know what I was looking at. I knew I was above treeline and that there were plants there I don't normally see at lower elevations. Many other plants are the same as down below, just stunted and growing low to the ground. Either way, it gives the ridge an other-worldly feel, especially in the fog. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlQdfrMq-c_55a1AqStl6yoQg0zO2GrK3xdf9UffAT0oUlpccoHMZqxD7nq76qQ-2QCJnjxNgKQoSzqEWQ-gWNynGaKnOdPIyAyMxhC2qzIlZGRqYm8TwY2oILiPyhtMgyMFk3ONpa9qo/s1600/0909211134a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlQdfrMq-c_55a1AqStl6yoQg0zO2GrK3xdf9UffAT0oUlpccoHMZqxD7nq76qQ-2QCJnjxNgKQoSzqEWQ-gWNynGaKnOdPIyAyMxhC2qzIlZGRqYm8TwY2oILiPyhtMgyMFk3ONpa9qo/w400-h225/0909211134a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Descending back down the top of Mt. Eisenhower<br />(see the little pond?) </td></tr></tbody></table><br />After claiming my pack down by the pond, it was time to find the Edmands Path and head down the mountain. This turned out to be the hardest part of the day. My Connecticut legs were feeling pretty good at this point, my first trip of the season in the mountains. By the time I got to the bottom, my thighs were pretty sore. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh75NyJ7lvTAqJZe6CsTnRlu01VcDsIZCe14IPnnaFbesP_t3kHZ3TDy_d-tPM20tZumNB0RIoS4cYyf27UmRDrs7Yy5cSrvnMWchJSrXGeN16nWXLZ-vECOD4u5ERjX8sYDG68oEyJ4WM/s1600/0909211147.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh75NyJ7lvTAqJZe6CsTnRlu01VcDsIZCe14IPnnaFbesP_t3kHZ3TDy_d-tPM20tZumNB0RIoS4cYyf27UmRDrs7Yy5cSrvnMWchJSrXGeN16nWXLZ-vECOD4u5ERjX8sYDG68oEyJ4WM/w400-h225/0909211147.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Edmands Path </td></tr></tbody></table><br />I only passed one pair of hikers all the way down the Edmands Path, which was quite a contrast to the Crawford Path. The Edmands Path was obviously a major project back in the day. The amount of rock work done was amazing. It was still tricky to walk on, though, especially when wet. At the higher elevations, it was similar to walking on a talus slope. The rock surface isn't like pavement. The rocks are a tightly packed jumble. Except where they've washed out. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6nvL3jsPW-sDJ9hSgOdZlNvCS6S4aOC2CMhzsnGNu0QX4vudn4bsPTe8XQ_FUliJMMatR1PbuuiGV_JR8loqOOXglwX2ITqSgzRGY8wrGGiZWMGFmj0GkX1TCg4yg6PcoaD71Se1BIug/s1600/0909211158.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6nvL3jsPW-sDJ9hSgOdZlNvCS6S4aOC2CMhzsnGNu0QX4vudn4bsPTe8XQ_FUliJMMatR1PbuuiGV_JR8loqOOXglwX2ITqSgzRGY8wrGGiZWMGFmj0GkX1TCg4yg6PcoaD71Se1BIug/w400-h225/0909211158.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading back into the treeline <br />(looking back)</td></tr></tbody></table><br />It did start raining lightly about the time I hit the treeline, and continued much of the way down. Just enough to get everything wet and slick. It was a warm rain. Even going downhill, the rain gear was too hot, so I had it draped over my head and gear instead of wearing it properly. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2x2LP5rBlYmnQpWjGCsJwNNo6joBZVvLOx-IYLFZRcj6F15v7zs3lyTv4B_UZdIewTD0kN7fQRtH11yyYaITg3fN1e0M0Ttq-HpWRphXqzhq9NPHkKYi_llxwFl_fBHq4GJb7DC1cfJA/s1600/0908211142_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2x2LP5rBlYmnQpWjGCsJwNNo6joBZVvLOx-IYLFZRcj6F15v7zs3lyTv4B_UZdIewTD0kN7fQRtH11yyYaITg3fN1e0M0Ttq-HpWRphXqzhq9NPHkKYi_llxwFl_fBHq4GJb7DC1cfJA/w400-h225/0908211142_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A break in the rain (Edmand's Path)<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />The Edmands Path was 837 miles long. It took days to descend in the rain. There were only a few really tricky spots, nothing very dramatic, but there was an endless series of step-downs that required some quick assessment in the rain (left? right?), and some thought about how to make that next step without slipping. I started to feel it in my thighs, the repeated slow and deliberate dropping down to the next level. One-legged slow-motion squats. Slow, so that I wouldn't slip on the wet, slick boulders. At one point I thought I might be near the bottom. I checked my phone and discovered I wasn't even half way down. Then it started raining again. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj02yjfi_hSuUTRhIV0yvS-n78o56Z_racy9Nxg_pRNG0DB0a5xRk4GHbZ3gF8yst3x445AXiKBknIhkGeRCFdbclDoxoePe1Rm3QcmRhTll5ssWyHetGi07WrN2TIzjK-E5eR9SvXpiF0/s1600/0909211356.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj02yjfi_hSuUTRhIV0yvS-n78o56Z_racy9Nxg_pRNG0DB0a5xRk4GHbZ3gF8yst3x445AXiKBknIhkGeRCFdbclDoxoePe1Rm3QcmRhTll5ssWyHetGi07WrN2TIzjK-E5eR9SvXpiF0/w400-h225/0909211356.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finally down off the mountain (Edmand's Path)</td></tr></tbody></table><br />But after a few weeks I finally arrived at the bottom of the Edmands Path at Mt. Clinton Road and the scattered showers were history. Things were looking up. Now it was time to check some maps. Remember that the Cohos trail isn't marked while passing through White Mountain National Forest. The guidebook made a big point about taking the second left off of Mt. Clinton Road onto an old railroad bed. I had highlighted that warning as was prepared. Yup. The first left looked correct. But there was another left soon afterwards, and this was the correct turn. Purchase and read the guidebook! <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA7uf-ZV5DTCTiz6aG2mKSUmOHFw6B47Kp42LM_GAA8n_-EMEBWwoSacGPzkb7ytODUDv4LJ5_2e14IjNScmvQSfSgwMZo2N5ljppvTRXHNbjt99x-8lEMoUqT8CUjda0xISJID93q1tM/s1600/0909211503a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA7uf-ZV5DTCTiz6aG2mKSUmOHFw6B47Kp42LM_GAA8n_-EMEBWwoSacGPzkb7ytODUDv4LJ5_2e14IjNScmvQSfSgwMZo2N5ljppvTRXHNbjt99x-8lEMoUqT8CUjda0xISJID93q1tM/w225-h400/0909211503a.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bear Poo on the B&M Trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br />It was all super easy walking after this. The first part of the B&M Trail was little used and quite rustic. And I only saw a few people the entire way. I had originally planned to do this section southbound, and was hoping to find a place to tent just before going up Mt. Eisenhower. If you have a traditional ground tent, it will be very hard to find a spot on the Edmands Path clear enough for a tent. It's all hobblebush at the bottom and spruce/fir going up. So this part of the B&M Trail (near Mt Clinton Road) may be the best bet for tenting. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho7UUG9uiUIv2n68g3wrkid2aflaXSJBhfl9UsPmYpJoGpp_DsrV270dVAs8MM2Dy010zOQplZ5G2Hn2kFnHpJOVovAM5_q-5KQSmdhmI30cB2d7s6OUdW7GEKRSppEyKBT_umHzA_WxQ/s1600/0909211521.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho7UUG9uiUIv2n68g3wrkid2aflaXSJBhfl9UsPmYpJoGpp_DsrV270dVAs8MM2Dy010zOQplZ5G2Hn2kFnHpJOVovAM5_q-5KQSmdhmI30cB2d7s6OUdW7GEKRSppEyKBT_umHzA_WxQ/w225-h400/0909211521.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">B&M Trail</td></tr></tbody></table>Online maps are helpful from Mt. Clinton Road to Rt 302. I did have some mapping issues. I should have downloaded the Avenza map, but didn't realize that was an option at the time. Guthook ended with the Edmand's Path. Gaia froze repeatedly on my phone but was still useful. I mostly ended up using Google MyMaps (I had loaded someone else's Cohos gps track, so at least I could tell if I was on the correct trail). <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF9-E4KHrc8on_FDAMsosUwKmyk6xDKu94McJkrlcp9Q-_SJUT3Y-LUgfQyEfz23wkHcGF2dcrJJff-ftyXD4PQxJSnGVKQ4TdQidzvsFiqmB-kXRuvpCN-OHskO_lKiSm-kmlmP8FrSg/s1600/0909211556a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF9-E4KHrc8on_FDAMsosUwKmyk6xDKu94McJkrlcp9Q-_SJUT3Y-LUgfQyEfz23wkHcGF2dcrJJff-ftyXD4PQxJSnGVKQ4TdQidzvsFiqmB-kXRuvpCN-OHskO_lKiSm-kmlmP8FrSg/w400-h225/0909211556a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Middle Falls" on the Ammonoosuc River</td></tr></tbody></table><br />One theme of this hike my repeated failure to find waterfalls. I missed the Dry River Falls the day before, and had hoped to make up for it by seeing all three of the Ammonoosuc Falls on this day, starting with the Upper Falls. But the road apparently leading to the Upper Falls was signed "NO WALKING ON TRAIL." That's a new one. Did they mean just in the winter? I don't know. I followed the rules and skipped it. I did get to Middle Falls, although I'm not sure I saw any actual falls. But there were some neat rock formations. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQRXa87QBzolu4IPogi2IuA-e1lAaUVpB1uqSRjUpJJwXitBZyx61ZLY_OMIrkxKcMnH7sXVa4sTSUcgq7iWTd2SAHRX7AyfKdeNmh2j-ysfdVoRcuqzEQPGvVx-jHu36N0q6-5vR1iaM/s1600/0909211619.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQRXa87QBzolu4IPogi2IuA-e1lAaUVpB1uqSRjUpJJwXitBZyx61ZLY_OMIrkxKcMnH7sXVa4sTSUcgq7iWTd2SAHRX7AyfKdeNmh2j-ysfdVoRcuqzEQPGvVx-jHu36N0q6-5vR1iaM/w400-h225/0909211619.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ammonoosuc River</td></tr></tbody></table><br />For several miles, the Ammonoosuc River was never far from the trail. And then the trail finally turned to the left and came out onto the golf course on the backside of the landmark Mount Washington Hotel. It was quite dramatic for a hiking trail.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr1BT9ZaulfwGUfZeq2eusHRdTjEl2EgjlhX3lsDkM2tagEhgmYzntap0QHEt1i_JdezLW5Tc6QGJO_EAQr_0i_-bHZoXrNNoA_38af9f-8cuoIPopFjaNKCa_c7rOmRJH-8Ye0BwThKs/s1600/0909211626_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr1BT9ZaulfwGUfZeq2eusHRdTjEl2EgjlhX3lsDkM2tagEhgmYzntap0QHEt1i_JdezLW5Tc6QGJO_EAQr_0i_-bHZoXrNNoA_38af9f-8cuoIPopFjaNKCa_c7rOmRJH-8Ye0BwThKs/w400-h225/0909211626_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The backside of the Mt. Washington Hotel at Bretton Woods</td></tr></tbody></table><br />A scattering of people were golfing or walking their dogs. The online map helped guide me through the facilities. Just before coming out on Rt 302, the driveway crosses the river and looking back there was a spectacular view of the motel and the Presidential Range behind it. Wow again. Mt. Eisenhower emerged from the low clouds right on cue. What a walk! I still needed to finish up the Cohos with a walk down the highway to Cherry Mountain Road, where I'd been a few years back. My legs hurt and I was really tired at that point, but I did it and my husband was thankfully waiting for me. My plan had been for us to walk to the Lower Ammonoosuc Falls, which I had enjoyed back in 2019, but I was just too exhausted to walk any further. I did take note that the parking area there does not allow overnight parking. My original plan was to park there and go southbound, so I lucked out by going nobo. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP9BvDh1c0wd719sKVj4HJpY8sFH5B7S_sqNqyH00JdC0Fc6Ux7HgKZkyF9rJ0mQr7KeHX-Pl8evQkuyffdhZF0WGSFnaVVMBashAVtBnqkPof0B67QkP0ojlrdMPykin_AFzRG94eObo/s1600/0909211654_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP9BvDh1c0wd719sKVj4HJpY8sFH5B7S_sqNqyH00JdC0Fc6Ux7HgKZkyF9rJ0mQr7KeHX-Pl8evQkuyffdhZF0WGSFnaVVMBashAVtBnqkPof0B67QkP0ojlrdMPykin_AFzRG94eObo/w400-h225/0909211654_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Presidential Range - Mt Eisenhower on the right</td></tr></tbody></table><br />We had a nice few days relaxing in Lincoln, doing some shopping and eating out (baffled by all the new protocols in the age of Covid, since we don't usually go out to eat, like needing to pull up the menu on our phones). Masks? In Connecticut, most people wore masks when shopping. There wasn't very much drama about it. In New Hampshire, almost no one was wearing masks while shopping. Another odd bit: In the Before Times (2019), Connecticut banned plastic shopping bags and we were all so traumatized by it at the time because it was like the end of the world to have to remember to bring bags into the store with us. Relative to all the Covid changes that were to come, it was laughable. At any rate, we got used to not getting bags at the store. Then we got to New Hampshire and bought a few novelties and were startled by the big production underway to wrap and bag said novelties. It seemed ridiculous. "No, no, no, we'll just put those in our pocket." It was then the cashier's turn to be startled. "Are you SURE?" We got a good laugh. <br /><br /></div><div><p></p></div>Teresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04628471774296555013noreply@blogger.com0Mt Eisenhower, Chandlers Purchase, NH 03589, USA44.2403434 -71.350353715.930109563821155 -106.5066037 72.550577236178839 -36.1941037tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410961879681386812.post-38358677450807112182021-09-08T20:11:00.355-04:002021-11-07T18:25:22.734-05:00Cohos Trail: Stairs Mountain to Dry River<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhco_CqT0lKdUI-_ZiF7X5WFf5Yy_f5Ra1Lk8CZssLJ1DsvKls1Oof1zErCZv18RPPlrLabrNZvRJep4a1lgKS5_w7ujsuDCA7wdRXRpKCvRMfYp5sqtsudncnG30e6O0UhtSQEcvyfpsY/s1600/0908210555_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhco_CqT0lKdUI-_ZiF7X5WFf5Yy_f5Ra1Lk8CZssLJ1DsvKls1Oof1zErCZv18RPPlrLabrNZvRJep4a1lgKS5_w7ujsuDCA7wdRXRpKCvRMfYp5sqtsudncnG30e6O0UhtSQEcvyfpsY/w400-h225/0908210555_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunrise on Stairs Mountain</td></tr></tbody></table>What an amazing start to the day! Sunrise at Stairs Mountain, just a few steps from my tent. Just amazing. It doesn't get any better than this. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu7EfXmjREtuoN_mzS0daEYHrg1IQdiPux-9GZxbf962AqLhBEnlfbr6mJK5EDBuGcinTn9hdtAlh46yl43MsQn9a53Pm8T2JRpSosvuqZnFD0RIuxO6eX6sw8G_6yVwVXRYq3smui7ok/s1600/0908210719_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu7EfXmjREtuoN_mzS0daEYHrg1IQdiPux-9GZxbf962AqLhBEnlfbr6mJK5EDBuGcinTn9hdtAlh46yl43MsQn9a53Pm8T2JRpSosvuqZnFD0RIuxO6eX6sw8G_6yVwVXRYq3smui7ok/w400-h225/0908210719_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mt. Crawford (middle) with Mt. Nancy (right), separated by <br />Crawford Notch. Mt. Carrigain is beyond Mt. Nancy, in clouds.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />One more perfect weather day to take advantage of. Not too hot or cold, no bugs, and the trail is relatively dry. The forecast called for possibly heavy rain in the evening and all the next day. That's the way it goes. Enjoy the good stuff while it lasts. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5__4vYz24w0nasxl-t0d48v6yd5AWqxzqf0dh8er2Xpo4qNzxIC8K_0c3bqEMkBYSdmRNIldFtYgw2XdcxSUHaAIpJzDa7GBoo5e10WYCH6CGAhAQ4-cwL5gc3c-eBW7E8UBS-th9hBI/s1600/0908210727a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5__4vYz24w0nasxl-t0d48v6yd5AWqxzqf0dh8er2Xpo4qNzxIC8K_0c3bqEMkBYSdmRNIldFtYgw2XdcxSUHaAIpJzDa7GBoo5e10WYCH6CGAhAQ4-cwL5gc3c-eBW7E8UBS-th9hBI/w225-h400/0908210727a.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back on the Davis Path</td></tr></tbody></table><br />This section of the Davis Path was delightfully rustic. Note in the above photo the dense spruce-fir forest. The ridge was covered with this and if you have a traditional ground tent like I do, it's impossible to set it up in a spot not cleared out for tents. Hammock tents definitely have the advantage here. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp4vKaWC_S7bavbTpGIy5z4oW0Io4PQwZVCL-gapq10481dBCpcK8WLlbccWnGRG3AsTZy_DzidBVrUy7hOscgab2j8hKe-Aiu9R0O00gHmJdSq3dQKe74njuvRNr4QvjHAPF5zDEGWog/s1600/0908210749b.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp4vKaWC_S7bavbTpGIy5z4oW0Io4PQwZVCL-gapq10481dBCpcK8WLlbccWnGRG3AsTZy_DzidBVrUy7hOscgab2j8hKe-Aiu9R0O00gHmJdSq3dQKe74njuvRNr4QvjHAPF5zDEGWog/w400-h225/0908210749b.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hobble Bush</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Mostly the trail was easy to follow, although there were a few sections that were a bit overgrown. But in a fun way. There's no real possibility of going the wrong way for long in the dense Spruce-Fir forest. And the trail goes back to 1845! How cool is that?<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVqHx3t80SkgVkUH2FNRs5ADWyLSUof9a8hGh9zKb6XW-FlrSXWxozZ2RBw-qgJ32vU8SH8zFv1_OgryFxVumHTwxO-ExPcE4Ri3FfC3ELf5PwouWIojPLBqgoURX1hbmeOKdYAoA0NZ8/s1600/0908210829.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVqHx3t80SkgVkUH2FNRs5ADWyLSUof9a8hGh9zKb6XW-FlrSXWxozZ2RBw-qgJ32vU8SH8zFv1_OgryFxVumHTwxO-ExPcE4Ri3FfC3ELf5PwouWIojPLBqgoURX1hbmeOKdYAoA0NZ8/w225-h400/0908210829.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moose Poop</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The Guthook app with a map of White Mountain National Forest had marked a reliable water source, before heading up Mt. Isolation, and it proved to be good. There isn't much water up on the Montalban Ridge and I was still using what I had carried up from Crawford Notch. I had lost cell phone reception, so while I was at it, I turned on my new Garmin InReach, which I'd recently purchased so that I could let my loved ones know where I was and that I was OK once out of cell phone range. It also has an SOS button. I wasn't sure if the Garmin InReach would work down in the Dry River Valley, surrounded by rock, but it did. It also worked well throughout the White Mountains later in the season. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQWbPwhBBPub4h-HU6F09GzyYdrIe-skmOjVgJClGhW4OV_uRVPrl42HSYmpi1DvzZslC-aq7QlG3aSWgDq4PiHmP8dVSMchcodVkI84rgcHsbe-iZSjQdlmJsjiizyEUGub4-vZ23OTw/s1600/0908210922b.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQWbPwhBBPub4h-HU6F09GzyYdrIe-skmOjVgJClGhW4OV_uRVPrl42HSYmpi1DvzZslC-aq7QlG3aSWgDq4PiHmP8dVSMchcodVkI84rgcHsbe-iZSjQdlmJsjiizyEUGub4-vZ23OTw/w225-h400/0908210922b.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cut with an axe</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Blowdowns had been cleared recently using an axe. A million thanks to whoever this was. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8GjM129j2KFUvk1x-xTgtnKurR1FWse77vJN4EWVqBxlUdau79Eq19zjeEukpZ8EjHAAoLjWfJShyphenhyphen_DW8wy0jq2rlxhF83xWNbGKymlrhE8zA21jmuUA8i4Wg-m1u8vpjt8ydH-f6ssE/s1600/0908210937a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1167" data-original-width="1600" height="146" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8GjM129j2KFUvk1x-xTgtnKurR1FWse77vJN4EWVqBxlUdau79Eq19zjeEukpZ8EjHAAoLjWfJShyphenhyphen_DW8wy0jq2rlxhF83xWNbGKymlrhE8zA21jmuUA8i4Wg-m1u8vpjt8ydH-f6ssE/w200-h146/0908210937a.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amanitas</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA3Sjw0ytyu92UEPrAL2OSkMiIg1XGX6cl5sLT32pnhpAWq0hvP4NWT1cN9PslHEnTqgbizizN_QrV8kJULVzoTuOg83JmyzUrGq9TNPGvgshArac_0GqMVEPM9Qnwk4Mmwx4DhTPEhA4/s1600/0908211005_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA3Sjw0ytyu92UEPrAL2OSkMiIg1XGX6cl5sLT32pnhpAWq0hvP4NWT1cN9PslHEnTqgbizizN_QrV8kJULVzoTuOg83JmyzUrGq9TNPGvgshArac_0GqMVEPM9Qnwk4Mmwx4DhTPEhA4/w400-h225/0908211005_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful forest</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The ridge hike was a pleasant trek. Nothing too steep. I didn't see or hear a soul. I soaked up the good weather while I could, expecting the next day to be a washout. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm4R6w1fmtQ9TNckWoQ6SPelKeA91kmOcRdlITka4x8z8MdWpaeCFH1QGFRYtP8qi25Imqbkw0-r2Urf88-KGgZa99cNQaU4l7_rV-z3H9mhAXlnx7_E7UcZ1nS48tqAQiVd2gc9yTHX4/s1600/0908211053.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm4R6w1fmtQ9TNckWoQ6SPelKeA91kmOcRdlITka4x8z8MdWpaeCFH1QGFRYtP8qi25Imqbkw0-r2Urf88-KGgZa99cNQaU4l7_rV-z3H9mhAXlnx7_E7UcZ1nS48tqAQiVd2gc9yTHX4/w400-h225/0908211053.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old corduroy road emerging from the moss</td></tr></tbody></table><br />A section of old corduroy that had been buried and then exposed again begged the question of how long again the logs had been stacked along the trail. It could have been 10 years ago. Or fifty. Maybe even older. Things probably don't rot very fast up there. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYaJr2LcSnEeBdQf4h4tFF2qUTfGiJMjzHTm1WP3_XMOtpeqAyLQa0P_S7P7mmzZmgYRsvKlReNZCa9uUmbYCPUVvaOXoQB88Yy4UMvWHVLEqIm5glxW33VHBMuFwZmABL93wWGRmpWI4/s1600/0908211153.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYaJr2LcSnEeBdQf4h4tFF2qUTfGiJMjzHTm1WP3_XMOtpeqAyLQa0P_S7P7mmzZmgYRsvKlReNZCa9uUmbYCPUVvaOXoQB88Yy4UMvWHVLEqIm5glxW33VHBMuFwZmABL93wWGRmpWI4/w400-h225/0908211153.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading up Mt. Isolation</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Northbound, the Davis Path up to Mt. Isolation isn't much of a climb. The spur to the summit was a bit more than I expected, with a few steep spots. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUnpMojxpMfYI_BmONamXNwL-GGr87CxDQq0O9YVEIBmOt-fKNBQtvJPidRTkTk62ywLFSIrOTTfaFsYRqEUymyoojI_GlZSoyT33Sbpmz2dZ3NXwFAKyGhPGFsBBwsHDSCf7q_YcJsfU/s1600/0908211207.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUnpMojxpMfYI_BmONamXNwL-GGr87CxDQq0O9YVEIBmOt-fKNBQtvJPidRTkTk62ywLFSIrOTTfaFsYRqEUymyoojI_GlZSoyT33Sbpmz2dZ3NXwFAKyGhPGFsBBwsHDSCf7q_YcJsfU/w400-h225/0908211207.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Do you see the trail?</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I only saw one pair of hikers all day. Guess where I saw them. The top of Mt. Isolation. Of course. I did get a useful tip from them when I asked about which mountains I was seeing in the distance. They recommended downloading the app Peakfinder, which I did. Took quite awhile to download there and I discovered that I had good phone reception if I was facing Mt. Washington, but lost the connection if I turned my back to Mt. Washington. Apparently that is were the cell tower is. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQN2XBdzIwoysRPHOVNthH9f3WwHPM851rsqLgJRaoHcx_Lq5epNRInDdfOQMtttlnPfcHBn25jPXRQgWVr1sjrSCT4kTS53fJ2Pumj5XIo5svhsmJGHNJTbWMU15RPW88V_uGMcq2fDI/s1600/0908211239.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQN2XBdzIwoysRPHOVNthH9f3WwHPM851rsqLgJRaoHcx_Lq5epNRInDdfOQMtttlnPfcHBn25jPXRQgWVr1sjrSCT4kTS53fJ2Pumj5XIo5svhsmJGHNJTbWMU15RPW88V_uGMcq2fDI/w400-h225/0908211239.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Presidential Range from Mt. Isolation</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy8F7QKZnEcL_HpG40e-Y0HhJvbdR_XYdqAaOPPxQnDM7N6SA3gVVGNMbdbjf3OQwbDWuysTIzIV3jyrW4GSthbzLDwseVL_i_IEKoGpS3z_gnQ8jpJIyKhfVI6wHLe8Wes5q2agYNHFQ/s1600/0908211256a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="976" data-original-width="1600" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy8F7QKZnEcL_HpG40e-Y0HhJvbdR_XYdqAaOPPxQnDM7N6SA3gVVGNMbdbjf3OQwbDWuysTIzIV3jyrW4GSthbzLDwseVL_i_IEKoGpS3z_gnQ8jpJIyKhfVI6wHLe8Wes5q2agYNHFQ/w400-h244/0908211256a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That one moment the clouds lifted from Mt. Washington</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The pair of mushrooming dayhikers left after a bit and I had Mt. Isolation to myself. Spectacular. The clouds over Mt. Washington lifted briefly. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4pT9t3wLVcNjtJ93iu3G48CVLjI7MTyw2TgsCX53FY0CvefQnzGLedcpii3O-zsGaUYYqTQmiJbEb-w-fy4I3zJ2OD6CNdnmbrwQbPje45vKMSH54MISL7ZuKxLW4rEvFWT3AZeo3VSc/s1600/0908211332.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4pT9t3wLVcNjtJ93iu3G48CVLjI7MTyw2TgsCX53FY0CvefQnzGLedcpii3O-zsGaUYYqTQmiJbEb-w-fy4I3zJ2OD6CNdnmbrwQbPje45vKMSH54MISL7ZuKxLW4rEvFWT3AZeo3VSc/w225-h400/0908211332.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And it's the dry season</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The path north of Mt. Isolation was much more tedious with mud, and this was a pretty dry time of the year. People who wear light hikers designed to just get wet and dry off fast will be at an advantage on the Davis Path. I cannot wear them due to problems with my feet, but I would if I could. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje30Lhz_hFc_PxvWR3TH19jNYQvzJ7GHe7bXbMy1ix0YrRsBlWv270Yx0zerjtViHmIkhpj_RfzAW5p3jTnm2hkbX_IVGPnrOEq_gHbwow8hKlY-NCqULwwm54QnqtVf0Fp8qCYe07PJA/s2048/0908211417_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje30Lhz_hFc_PxvWR3TH19jNYQvzJ7GHe7bXbMy1ix0YrRsBlWv270Yx0zerjtViHmIkhpj_RfzAW5p3jTnm2hkbX_IVGPnrOEq_gHbwow8hKlY-NCqULwwm54QnqtVf0Fp8qCYe07PJA/s320/0908211417_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Farewell, Davis Path<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />After heading up North Isolation (no real views), it was time to say farewell to the Davis Path and head down into the Dry River Valley via the Isolation Trail. The first part of this was quite pleasant as the trail headed down the hill at a gentle grade. About half way down, it came alongside a tributary to the Dry River, and at this point things got more interesting because the stream had devoured the trail in half a dozen spots. There was typically a very steep embankment down into the river bed, some rock hopping down the river following the cairns, and then the trail bed would resume after the washout. I don't know what you do if the water is high. The last washout just before the junction with the Dry River Trail was confusing and I had some trouble finding the trail again. It was frustrating because the weather had turned and felt like rain. I just wanted to get my tent set up before it started pouring. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK06-fUzJyePm6RIZ3BvmpNnmEiMEpWLCiS_g_-E9W81GKi2nk2rCTSLEC70SdsFUGnlwyV6-NeGB74Jem_KgYMqFw2zqbUgaCYHnG3mpnDvXlS0HVPWkxWJUAdI2SzDSAsY_eATaWC4k/s1600/0908211528.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK06-fUzJyePm6RIZ3BvmpNnmEiMEpWLCiS_g_-E9W81GKi2nk2rCTSLEC70SdsFUGnlwyV6-NeGB74Jem_KgYMqFw2zqbUgaCYHnG3mpnDvXlS0HVPWkxWJUAdI2SzDSAsY_eATaWC4k/w400-h225/0908211528.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The brook ate the trail<br />(see the cairn)</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I had hoped to visit the Dry River Falls, but it was not to be. It was more important to get across the Dry River before it rained. People have died trying to cross the river. So I took off my boots, waterproofed my load in case I fell in, and forded the river. Glad the water was low. <br /><br />On the other side, I found a spot to get my tent set up as soon as I could. Although there was an area down by the water where it looks like people camp, it wasn't designated as a tenting area, and I don't like being next to a river when storms are predicted. Instead, I found a spot above the trail at the top of the first steep rise, a few hundred feet in, where the ground was level and not packed down (better drainage). Perfect for the coming rain. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdH_YEq8jSUughFvztHsrkD2ir7UUXWh1NEMUBWUBq3-F7J7z7Qp5HiYymEn0BCI6Qrft84YgDyu0fXbFDLbsCyfDp5tfvMVrQmuVplU70U4d5MLl0PBZw37_ZjVZZWax6zBIubEHWLCk/s1600/0908211654a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdH_YEq8jSUughFvztHsrkD2ir7UUXWh1NEMUBWUBq3-F7J7z7Qp5HiYymEn0BCI6Qrft84YgDyu0fXbFDLbsCyfDp5tfvMVrQmuVplU70U4d5MLl0PBZw37_ZjVZZWax6zBIubEHWLCk/w400-h225/0908211654a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dry River</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />Teresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04628471774296555013noreply@blogger.com0Stairs Mountain, Sargent's Purchase, NH 03846, USA44.1550674 -71.318407715.844833563821155 -106.4746577 72.465301236178846 -36.162157699999995tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410961879681386812.post-91853167318465629692021-09-07T19:02:00.413-04:002021-11-08T08:57:30.468-05:00Cohos Trail: Crawford Notch to Stairs Mountain<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVEQJuBuxAW3kaMFsDbfJ82HH1mYmyWzoLqyZBHgs44igGT1_K3qaKXA4wWceQbcishyphenhyphenFH0y66Z8nwzPUhZ62V4Df7CzSjbZdZEvLhp6-yYLIPZJvsc6i1EvqTVDWHiW5fSwdloh9Dp4c/s1600/0907211002a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVEQJuBuxAW3kaMFsDbfJ82HH1mYmyWzoLqyZBHgs44igGT1_K3qaKXA4wWceQbcishyphenhyphenFH0y66Z8nwzPUhZ62V4Df7CzSjbZdZEvLhp6-yYLIPZJvsc6i1EvqTVDWHiW5fSwdloh9Dp4c/s320/0907211002a.jpg" width="302" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cohos Trailhead at Crawford Notch</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'm back in New Hampshire to finish off the Cohos Trail and explore the so-called "Ghost Trail" alternative to the Appalachian Trail! If you hike the NET-Cohos using the Appalachian Trail to Zealand Trail option and pick up the Cohos Trail near Bretton Woods (as I did), you will have missed the southern twenty-five miles of the Cohos. Which is a little sad. This part of the trail crosses the Presidential Range by way of Mt. Isolation and Mt Eisenhower using paths that that see fewer hikers than some of the more popular trails in the area. I wanted to check it out. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>So I hit the road and after a five-hour drive from Connecticut, found the big parking lot in Crawford Notch nearly empty. It was the day after Labor Day, and the crowds seemed to have gone home. Nice. This is a good spot to leave a car overnight (there is no overnight parking on the opposite end of this hike). There's a big sign for the Cohos Trail at the start, and that is the last reference to the Cohos Trail I saw for the remainder of the hike. There were no Cohos blazes or Cohos markers between Crawford Notch and Cherry Mountain Road. Hikers need to do their homework and have the right maps and pay attention in order to follow the Cohos. A phone app makes this much easier. Avenza is often recommended for the Cohos. You can see the official map right on your phone, with your current location marked on the map. The Cohos guidebook is also highly recommended. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3f3fezJf73ryW5ATBSlhfXKdfnLP-yMcICY2TqIpwDtOq1Am8YOhDpzIYkjAYH7Ma8yK1DBUODFvgv6viJ-bL9ShEgl8Umg_zo9wN-X2BpnFiYT-yVZ11GFc0x256VC6hyphenhyphenkfKWF75UC0/s1600/0907211024b.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3f3fezJf73ryW5ATBSlhfXKdfnLP-yMcICY2TqIpwDtOq1Am8YOhDpzIYkjAYH7Ma8yK1DBUODFvgv6viJ-bL9ShEgl8Umg_zo9wN-X2BpnFiYT-yVZ11GFc0x256VC6hyphenhyphenkfKWF75UC0/w400-h225/0907211024b.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bemis Bridge<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>The hike starts out with the supercool Bemis Bridge over the Saco River. It's quite grand for a rustic hiking trail, but obviously necessary. The Bemis is an asymmetrical cable stayed bridge, meaning the supporting tower and cables are on only one side of the bridge, rising high about hikers like a gateway to the Davis Path. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxM5qRrETK8qDB-oR0a0eF8WwJmfEaWc6wHV1GIv63gQZsWB_Ja8GGAJ50hT3ROCS1O1kKbX1N7yHMeWBeZzGkjnDOc3L1rAAZIJBIWNsZrEGtppNuz985EoyKR9B35UB85r6qEDadt-A/s1600/0907211026.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxM5qRrETK8qDB-oR0a0eF8WwJmfEaWc6wHV1GIv63gQZsWB_Ja8GGAJ50hT3ROCS1O1kKbX1N7yHMeWBeZzGkjnDOc3L1rAAZIJBIWNsZrEGtppNuz985EoyKR9B35UB85r6qEDadt-A/w400-h225/0907211026.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Davis Path (and Cohos Trail)</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The Cohos Trail often follows older local trails that have their own names and history, just like the Appalachian Trail does. The Davis Path was constructed in 1845 (1845!) and was one of the original routes up Mt. Washington. The Cohos follows it for over ten miles before turning onto the Isolation Trail. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim8nCi7KtFZMcuKJ2M9tWf9XXEwEW4ksiSNvj08oF89PgF1kl1uJg_qkH0qIJ9r6LyZvxhjQGUq_BG7DXWwmd1Z4ZWdemQPMImyh4bA1Zzx7fff31hueeZWjrqoVCyGzAKkopdKfl_pxk/s1600/0907211042.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim8nCi7KtFZMcuKJ2M9tWf9XXEwEW4ksiSNvj08oF89PgF1kl1uJg_qkH0qIJ9r6LyZvxhjQGUq_BG7DXWwmd1Z4ZWdemQPMImyh4bA1Zzx7fff31hueeZWjrqoVCyGzAKkopdKfl_pxk/w225-h400/0907211042.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A very civilized beginning</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The trail seems to get heavy day hiking use up to Mt. Crawford. Even with the nearly empty parking lot, there was a steady trickle of day hikers. Some of the hikers must have walked in from the nearby Notchland Inn. People were talking about a dog. Apparently a woman further up the trail was being followed by this large, friendly dog, leading various sets of hikers to ask if the dog was mine. Nope. Everyone wanted to know: Was the dog lost? How on earth did it get here? What if if followed a backpacker farther up the trail? This dog was becoming famous. Finally I met this woman and her fabled new friend. She said she was able to read the dog's tag. It's name was Mya and it lived at the Inn. I bet Mya did this every day. In fact, we did see the dog again a few days later while retrieving the car and taking another look at the Bemis Bridge. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxjO_z5dnCBEocq4uklAaLzhGxKC7yNe1phxgpSWkwdYSSyanh9AtWXfygkQP2wzuvgc421FpcDPl4jKX7doX-LHLCOixL66Xcmy8khHoD4LkOrfwAIbMJfatNdGe45Klycdz686EjwGQ/s1600/0907211221_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxjO_z5dnCBEocq4uklAaLzhGxKC7yNe1phxgpSWkwdYSSyanh9AtWXfygkQP2wzuvgc421FpcDPl4jKX7doX-LHLCOixL66Xcmy8khHoD4LkOrfwAIbMJfatNdGe45Klycdz686EjwGQ/w400-h225/0907211221_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading up Mt Crawford</td></tr></tbody></table><br />It's a pretty good rise up the Montalban Ridge to the Mt. Crawford spur, but there was nothing very steep or tricky. After the endless 2020 Covid year without travel, it was exhilarating to get to the first overlook and sit down for lunch. Finally! After two years, it was great to be back in the north woods. Balsam and spruce. Hobblebush. Granite under foot. I just hung out and soaked it all in for a spell. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZziyZjfI7c-GaPL45rwCiv_iDvJfAlLuSZQYRR_IDvZ6a8xyi_uxtr9l8TKxPD3IXqBTQprM-mbCw1OpI3_hL9dzHBKrnibdshpuB5StJcIerZ9wSQMNIV40a3SJ78Eg_ISe5aVu58pc/s1600/0907211300.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZziyZjfI7c-GaPL45rwCiv_iDvJfAlLuSZQYRR_IDvZ6a8xyi_uxtr9l8TKxPD3IXqBTQprM-mbCw1OpI3_hL9dzHBKrnibdshpuB5StJcIerZ9wSQMNIV40a3SJ78Eg_ISe5aVu58pc/w400-h225/0907211300.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from Mt Crawford towards Stairs Mountain</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I stashed my water-laden pack near the junction of the spur up Mt. Crawford and digressed up the bald rock slopes. There were views in every direction. The most interesting was the unique profile of Stairs Mountain, which looks exactly like some giant stairs. That was my first possible tenting location. The profile also turned out to be the most recognizable landmark on later trips, easily seen from the top of Mt. Carrigain. The spur up Mt. Crawford was worthwhile, but might have been challenging on the way down if the rock was wet. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVus4MwNAHNCFGf5VSbr5z5pI8zYiQZbN8A9HcSUoJXs_8HwvnevOQKEdNMsFdJ-i76r37R4g9DqIz_UOzr6fyVJfnakD_R6Y1Hg4pR3Kr5oCUEIv5iGhq6SRsAEkQvucjslxqRlNC1W8/s1600/0907211316_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVus4MwNAHNCFGf5VSbr5z5pI8zYiQZbN8A9HcSUoJXs_8HwvnevOQKEdNMsFdJ-i76r37R4g9DqIz_UOzr6fyVJfnakD_R6Y1Hg4pR3Kr5oCUEIv5iGhq6SRsAEkQvucjslxqRlNC1W8/w400-h225/0907211316_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After Mt Crawford, the Davis Path becomes more rustic</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The Davis Path after Mt. Crawford immediately became more of a goat path. Clearly the vast majority of people head up to Mt. Crawford and then go right back down. After the junction, I saw only one other set of hikers the entire day. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqvG96LaF59kx0NPLfgwcOtu-LUsWHeABYODOhAcCHvqQGmnq59HBOs87CfgajKQoxEcxeagwgLI-xBwDIMIleTQGORGQCzNVWymtYtCIfvdbZ9b8sjeENqF7hRAB8sCrMtE7_CnRWUqs/s1600/0907211524.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqvG96LaF59kx0NPLfgwcOtu-LUsWHeABYODOhAcCHvqQGmnq59HBOs87CfgajKQoxEcxeagwgLI-xBwDIMIleTQGORGQCzNVWymtYtCIfvdbZ9b8sjeENqF7hRAB8sCrMtE7_CnRWUqs/w400-h225/0907211524.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spur to Stairs Mountain</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Before too long I came to the spur leading to some designated tent sites at the top of Stairs Mountain. I'd read somewhere that these were nice sites with a view. So I took the detour and immediately fell in love with the tenting area and nearby cliff. It was still quite early, and I could probably make it to the next known tenting location three miles down the, but this site was just amazing. There were a couple tent sites, but the one I took was just 30 feet from the cliff. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIZMb8LUtvsc-kv3022r9Q1jiDIGXWl4iV-WcWmhrHcBZcuAw9OYLAtpMA7RBASET78dKmM5vM5cG3IhTwyQoDAC5gzWJcFtZUWsCvJTYzuuHCVKbSoG6VYVRRpFJmYpOkUhjpY5d51oE/s1600/0907211611a_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIZMb8LUtvsc-kv3022r9Q1jiDIGXWl4iV-WcWmhrHcBZcuAw9OYLAtpMA7RBASET78dKmM5vM5cG3IhTwyQoDAC5gzWJcFtZUWsCvJTYzuuHCVKbSoG6VYVRRpFJmYpOkUhjpY5d51oE/w400-h225/0907211611a_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stairs Mountain tent site, just a few feet from the overlook</td></tr></tbody></table><br />So then I just hung out for a few hours and watched the mountains change color as the sank and then set. Mt. Carrigain was off to the southwest, the first of the "Ghost Trail" peaks, but that would be another hike. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6mWRfz48PHzvVQm80kqAIb1q7iOp6a6wrb3NATbc8PGMZXy9YPP-mKjWIt0Eoet0Jms-cL5bpxvsEGf7t3modDqKEj98V1tFuZinGJ4KHCwhhiDl8xSPnhDGTbrlaU2vVbX0e40zOZXw/s1600/0907211914a_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6mWRfz48PHzvVQm80kqAIb1q7iOp6a6wrb3NATbc8PGMZXy9YPP-mKjWIt0Eoet0Jms-cL5bpxvsEGf7t3modDqKEj98V1tFuZinGJ4KHCwhhiDl8xSPnhDGTbrlaU2vVbX0e40zOZXw/w400-h225/0907211914a_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Front row seat for a Stairs Mountain sunset</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I couldn't see a single man-made structure. Not a road, building, or clearing...nothing. And no man-made sounds. No other hikers, no cars, not even a plane. Amazing. After it got dark, I came back out to the cliff and the Milky Way was stretching across the sky. Stairs Mountain was worth stopping for. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTrICzbkBSKRx0vRvMt2doRdK_d8OaxopdKMeD2nF5NPTwRrQdPom-ewW3aF1bou5LkFuq64K-PF-rYH2pe6yeSrJTNpQkWBZZvn7TufbaTSI-SBJyGy21rPf5fHLSFiKNgwQADL3pOsU/s1600/0907211902_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTrICzbkBSKRx0vRvMt2doRdK_d8OaxopdKMeD2nF5NPTwRrQdPom-ewW3aF1bou5LkFuq64K-PF-rYH2pe6yeSrJTNpQkWBZZvn7TufbaTSI-SBJyGy21rPf5fHLSFiKNgwQADL3pOsU/w400-h225/0907211902_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mt Carrigain in the distance as the sun sets</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha9dt5nmYK4wBQNap1xErgsAFMHGoFK9SkODd0W2OGvwvRhOEPY96_sRsgVNvTRwi8o20Pd8PqkOSCKdWBuWkcnntB_8333xa023t9amMaV6BvO1Y5RJwaFIirJETqdY6y-Ywauyn43tY/s1600/0907211901a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha9dt5nmYK4wBQNap1xErgsAFMHGoFK9SkODd0W2OGvwvRhOEPY96_sRsgVNvTRwi8o20Pd8PqkOSCKdWBuWkcnntB_8333xa023t9amMaV6BvO1Y5RJwaFIirJETqdY6y-Ywauyn43tY/w400-h225/0907211901a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mt Resolute in the foreground, looking Southeast</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFrksWgThyokfFjFlScWZEpg8sCGi7jReq4PncztpbaV8NbNdhQ7TsZrF6xrBS8u-kycPLr8CELrvlEdoJpCDlsfA9A-i1BrCyq4CY3WH7P8wVY00PR4W_oqfUS8vD4h_POsimCnlkkmo/s1600/0907211925c.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFrksWgThyokfFjFlScWZEpg8sCGi7jReq4PncztpbaV8NbNdhQ7TsZrF6xrBS8u-kycPLr8CELrvlEdoJpCDlsfA9A-i1BrCyq4CY3WH7P8wVY00PR4W_oqfUS8vD4h_POsimCnlkkmo/w400-h225/0907211925c.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A bit later, the Milky Way stretched across the sky</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Teresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04628471774296555013noreply@blogger.com0Davis Path, Crawford Notch44.1202867 -71.354280544.095661789699783 -71.388612775390627 44.14491161030022 -71.319948224609377tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410961879681386812.post-58561080728224513522021-09-05T13:13:00.000-04:002021-11-11T20:02:47.198-05:00NH Trail Gap Options<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHxcRx4kAp4s5W42GPpaZTmUsoV-xj7KaEbbP_TESUjWIvC5HLyXk-SmERZJNuhllsfNJaBMJYZmoNFtnywzBQQNJ60EeQcW5fx9qX1n5T5B8czoeltl8th2GZnsFBfsG0_9hu1qqgeVc/s1776/NET-COHOS+GAP+MAP.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1776" data-original-width="1500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHxcRx4kAp4s5W42GPpaZTmUsoV-xj7KaEbbP_TESUjWIvC5HLyXk-SmERZJNuhllsfNJaBMJYZmoNFtnywzBQQNJ60EeQcW5fx9qX1n5T5B8czoeltl8th2GZnsFBfsG0_9hu1qqgeVc/w338-h400/NET-COHOS+GAP+MAP.jpg" width="338" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gap routes that have been used</td></tr></tbody></table><p>I first hiked "the Gap" between Mt Sunapee and the Appalachian Trail in 2018, choosing a western route that linked up with the A.T. at Moose Mountain. In 2021, I learned that a few others had hiked the gap by heading east on the SRK Greenway, then north to Mt Cardigan, linking up with the A.T. further north at Moosilauke or Smarts Mountain. Finally, an article written about the "Ghost Trail" several years ago by K.r. Nilson came to light. This proposed route completely bypasses the busy Appalachian Trail, linking up directly with the southern terminus of the Cohos Trail at Crawford Notch. The Ghost Trail was intriguing, so in 2021 I hiked that, along with the southern end of the Cohos Trail over the Presidential Range. I have blog posts for all sections except what others did between Cardigan and the A.T.<br /><br />Here's a summary of each route:</p><p>1. "<b>Moose Mountain Express" (Western route -quickest route to the A.T.):</b> That's the route I did in 2018, going north (clockwise) on the SRK Greenway from Mt. Sunapee and then following Snowmobile Trail 5N and the Moose Mountain Orange Diamond Trail (check my 2018 blog posts for more info). This route has only 6.6 miles on pavement and is the most direct route to the Appalachian Trail from the SRK Greenway. The gap terrain is very easy. Note that you're traveling on snowmobile trails not designed for hikers, although most of these trails were easy to walk (a couple rough spots and one section recently closed by a landowner). <b>Mileage:</b> 28.8 miles total with 6.6 miles paved, 12.8 miles of snowmobile trail, 6.4 miles hiking trail, 2.4 miles rail trail, and 0.6 woods road. Click <a href="https://boxingthenet.blogspot.com/2018/10/nh-ad-hoc-connector-map-gps-description.html">HERE</a> for more info and a gps file. </p><p><b>All the following routes start out by heading</b> east and then north on the SRK Greenway from Mt Sunapee, up and over Mt Kearsarge and Ragged Mountain, then heading north on the Northern Rail Trail to Danbury, followed by a long road walk to pick up the Skyland Trail heading to the summit of Mt Cardigan. Note that overnight camping is not allowed on the SRK Greenway. From there, people have gone in different directions. </p><p><b>2. Cardigan to Smarts Mountain: </b>From Mt Cardigan, this route descends north along a woods road (3.2 miles) to Sculptured Rock Road, and then west and north along various gravel roads and Highway 118 for 6.6 miles to Green Woodlands trailhead, where trails can be follow west for about 2 miles to North Dorchester Road. It's another 4.3 miles along the road to the Smarts Mountain trailhead for the Appalachian Trail. This route consists mostly of maintained gravel roads. </p><p><b>3. Cardigan to Moosilauke:</b> This route descends north from Mt Cardigan along a woods road (3.2 miles) to Sculptured Rock Road. but continues north from Cardigan with more road walking, eventually picking up a trail heading up the south side of Mt Moosilauke, where the Appalachian Trail is intercepted. </p><p><b>4.</b> "<b>Ghost Trail": Cardigan to Cohos Trail:</b> This route is based on an <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/521101845989544/permalink/521818232584572/" target="_blank">article by K.r. Nilson</a> that brings hikers to the southern terminus of the Cohos Trail at Crawford Notch, completely bypassing the Appalachian Trail. Landmarks include Hebron, Plymouth Mountain, Plymouth, Mt Squam, Mt. Israel, Flat Mountain Pond, Mt Whiteface, the Tripyramids, and Mt Cardigan. Then there is Mt Isolation and Mt Eisenhower as the route follows the Cohos Trail over the Presidential Range and through Bretton Woods. Check my 2021 blog posts for more detailed info and photos, and also check my <a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/1isq-tzBxvrMMMyu0u0UjIiEEhIPk8FFQESuExMdcr00/edit?usp=sharing"> quick notes for future hikers. </a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />Teresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04628471774296555013noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410961879681386812.post-17710339349394514322021-05-27T16:20:00.001-04:002021-06-09T12:44:35.788-04:00Thru-Hiking the Connecticut NET Part 2: Two Towers and a Bear<p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCm8G5SxNjRAIasX_Mu70IOZfS9fxVf22SPA9WQou0tLazNmGaTyohOhA5sAp1WNHsD7gJCiNnzrkR-cvZeZGMgnfT9PBTsTiLeFOCIyj1Ua1xWQQfx1KWwOGLiHSBKGsP_SgHACp19A0/s1222/Bear%252C+backpacking+NET+Simsbury+2021-004.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="843" data-original-width="1222" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCm8G5SxNjRAIasX_Mu70IOZfS9fxVf22SPA9WQou0tLazNmGaTyohOhA5sAp1WNHsD7gJCiNnzrkR-cvZeZGMgnfT9PBTsTiLeFOCIyj1Ua1xWQQfx1KWwOGLiHSBKGsP_SgHACp19A0/w400-h276/Bear%252C+backpacking+NET+Simsbury+2021-004.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Backpacking through Connecticut's Bear Alley</td></tr></tbody></table><br />This hike covered 56 miles of the Metacomet Ridge, from the Hanging Hills of Meriden to the Massachusetts border. Features included four days of hiking, three water drops, two towers, and one bear at my tent. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnwq8EaAihXX8acfn8YzojzRhgy-5wELWMF2lrbLxq7Xq7EdavQ_g70kfGx31jlucF0kbXyZhZDSk3dlT4Vrn4YOIly294bJYzgCerR4wnJ2z9ooqTyls1I3tqvsqIBIVZvwovOPnSiac/s1000/Part+2+NET-WP-Map-02-1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="682" data-original-width="1000" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnwq8EaAihXX8acfn8YzojzRhgy-5wELWMF2lrbLxq7Xq7EdavQ_g70kfGx31jlucF0kbXyZhZDSk3dlT4Vrn4YOIly294bJYzgCerR4wnJ2z9ooqTyls1I3tqvsqIBIVZvwovOPnSiac/w400-h272/Part+2+NET-WP-Map-02-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trail covered in this hike</td></tr></tbody></table><br />So much had changed in the two weeks that had passed since doing Part 1. By the last week of May, the trees had fully leafed out, and some of the seasonal brooks were dry or barely flowing . The trap rock ridges dry up fast if there are a few weeks without rain, and there is just nothing to drink for miles and miles. So a few days before hitting the trail, I hid a gallon of water at three locations along the trail, just in case. Glad I did! In retrospect, I could have managed without it, but the sources I would have been collecting water from were not ideal, and I would have been lugging that water water farther up the trail. Plus, it's a really nice not to have to filter your water for a while. <div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD3hGDx_JcPNV01_gbCb8LFM3rOKHS4iBXK45uG2fAuok19IsIus-6cpW0HymLD0XiSV6eJQzrvibHfRBh2YPzgwUPo-aL1VSgDNu_0qTvMIGXVcbSHpuYqRHSDRH_tkNkHPGdPv2Qpu0/s1600/0524211023.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD3hGDx_JcPNV01_gbCb8LFM3rOKHS4iBXK45uG2fAuok19IsIus-6cpW0HymLD0XiSV6eJQzrvibHfRBh2YPzgwUPo-aL1VSgDNu_0qTvMIGXVcbSHpuYqRHSDRH_tkNkHPGdPv2Qpu0/w400-h225/0524211023.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But I'm thirsty (Merimere Reservoir)</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Two weeks earlier, all the seasonal water sources were still flowing, but so much had dried up. A Merimere Reservoir inlet streambed the trail crosses was bone dry except for some water bubbling up out of the trap rock a few feet downhill from the trail. This turned out to be the best water of the hike. Spring water!<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-3Uz-4r9mor6Iu61iQfbXIHVpuLwgg4Tf7gsd_HAdjknEui9tw_PhsSdu8VFdiG3oFdrAwgc7vVlaCeY_hd4O7wLgkM2zZLdmgKXoYGdCNYLW6EOhGf8CtXqCVc_rM8oFyixDjvMD1uo/s1600/0524211028.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-3Uz-4r9mor6Iu61iQfbXIHVpuLwgg4Tf7gsd_HAdjknEui9tw_PhsSdu8VFdiG3oFdrAwgc7vVlaCeY_hd4O7wLgkM2zZLdmgKXoYGdCNYLW6EOhGf8CtXqCVc_rM8oFyixDjvMD1uo/w400-h225/0524211028.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crystal clear water bubbling out of the trap rock next to Merimere</td></tr></tbody></table><br />At any rate, thru hikers should be prepared for lack of water, depending on the season, and will probably need to carry extra water along the trap rock ridges. Guthook was a big help, although there are some water sources not shown on the app. One way to gauge the need for additional water before a hike if you're not sure is to Google "USGS hydrograph" and then select a small stream near the place you'll be hiking. The reason you want a smaller stream is that those are the ones that will dry up first, and best reflect the condition on the trap rock ridges. The hydrograph of Stony Brook near West Suffield shows how much the stream dried up between my first and second hikes. (Right after I got back, we got 3-4 inches of rain in Connecticut, so the hydrograph shoots back up quickly.) <div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilXvsRFRsKgldInPpNP1ouHloTJqvT1sxlnZFuaH9uvPzPmrNb5ZHL0Hh0FReKn1K1J36D6So-EsbecmaajNJHteDcCP-boS1moSjr5i_P5_9QJT6ihYPRuUCdU2FYRkuj-x1U5oFK_pA/s1247/Fullscreen+capture+662021+53404+PM.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="875" data-original-width="1247" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilXvsRFRsKgldInPpNP1ouHloTJqvT1sxlnZFuaH9uvPzPmrNb5ZHL0Hh0FReKn1K1J36D6So-EsbecmaajNJHteDcCP-boS1moSjr5i_P5_9QJT6ihYPRuUCdU2FYRkuj-x1U5oFK_pA/w400-h281/Fullscreen+capture+662021+53404+PM.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">USGS hydrograph showing water depth of a river in West Suffield</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Another issue is footwear. As I've said before, if you're on the fence between heavier boots and lighter footwear, choose the heavier option for this trail. Trap rock breaks into sharp corners, so this is one trail where you might want a bit more protection for your feet and ankles. I also found a pair of trekking poles to be invaluable because some of that rock is loose and kicks out on you when least expected. <br /><br /><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdzrJJ1MRF3PugYKtqzCvgCx-PKHXX2Gkgy-Dnw6FQ7a2oW_qOc3zwnjEHN_IdCYRKI6q7_qhhw9rKPoIMdrUZtpvMcX0RLFXhLQvTOME_vwslQpN7FBCvLTKndfUgmuwnDqNzBhmEIWs/s1600/0524210934.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdzrJJ1MRF3PugYKtqzCvgCx-PKHXX2Gkgy-Dnw6FQ7a2oW_qOc3zwnjEHN_IdCYRKI6q7_qhhw9rKPoIMdrUZtpvMcX0RLFXhLQvTOME_vwslQpN7FBCvLTKndfUgmuwnDqNzBhmEIWs/w400-h225/0524210934.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Be prepared for lots of loose angular trap rock </td></tr></tbody></table>While we're on the subject of gear, I pretreated my tent, pack, boots, hat, and clothing with permethrin to guard against ticks. Didn't see a single tick the entire trip except for one dog tick clinging to my sock, which I had not treated. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUCeJNwwaDNolD5wV_qT6SLgcH57QJJsvRfev9FqBKhtKVnTUaB9NusaE8l-dyc2pJRPzbFQ7JZcAhyphenhyphenHrJqwPn_19T5o2T2GOpZb8q0ETYmG_BmUmbLOIkIKPygPBrVS0a5-Gp6sDWpo4/s1600/0524211138.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUCeJNwwaDNolD5wV_qT6SLgcH57QJJsvRfev9FqBKhtKVnTUaB9NusaE8l-dyc2pJRPzbFQ7JZcAhyphenhyphenHrJqwPn_19T5o2T2GOpZb8q0ETYmG_BmUmbLOIkIKPygPBrVS0a5-Gp6sDWpo4/w400-h225/0524211138.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Merimere Reservoir heading up East Peak</td></tr></tbody></table><br />This hike started where I left off on Summit Wood Drive in Berlin, which starts out as a brief road walk. This isn't a bad place to split the CT NET in two if so desired. Route 71 would be closer to half way, but the parking might be more difficult. Summit Wood Drive is a cul-de-sac with some powerlines you can park in front of without intruding on any homeowners. </div><div><br /></div><div>I started out poorly by missing where the trail turns off the road, but eventually figured it out with the help of the Guthook. The next section is the one I had the hardest time with in 2012 because a new dirt road had been cleared and graded and all the blazes were gone. But it was all good in 2021, and before long I had arrived at the Hanging Hills of Meriden, which includes Castle Craig (East Peak). It's a lovely climb with lots of views. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitOG7rfMJdOSsrA0SJjJGMjc1QbifO2iutI-kBkT4RZ6MjYXbd6B-xDQ7_SsmnNCh9R0l0MOxgcmtksGsBRinYJ6Kazl60Gxzkdgp1lt53A04iXPozOIdK89dSVBvY-aHBPrZ4tE8_ugI/s1600/0524211147_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitOG7rfMJdOSsrA0SJjJGMjc1QbifO2iutI-kBkT4RZ6MjYXbd6B-xDQ7_SsmnNCh9R0l0MOxgcmtksGsBRinYJ6Kazl60Gxzkdgp1lt53A04iXPozOIdK89dSVBvY-aHBPrZ4tE8_ugI/w400-h225/0524211147_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Castle Craig: The first tower</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Castle Craig is a milestone along the NET. I could see New Haven, Long Island, and Sleeping Giant off in the distance. The paved road up to the castle was open, so it was fairly busy, even on a Monday. The trail then tediously goes all the way down the ridge on a lot of loose traprock, and then all the way back up again to West Peak on more rock, even though there is a super easy paved road connecting the two peaks up above. It's a little heartbreaking. On the one hand, it's ridiculous, and on the other hand, it's nice to get off the pavement. At any rate, that little stretch between East Peak and West Peak definitely adds to the difficulty. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQFKAWmA6ks_-PTBciu6qdONkIW9aswjg0OZoLPRWfS-sIBY34vOFUnPIRKTFfh6bq6nSSRRAcQvM0dwCGly5NQ07LzEY8Dn-qlxFCU0w4alSXP6Ni2fg43k79Yb5BObKbXgEYcgHz3fU/s1600/0524211307.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQFKAWmA6ks_-PTBciu6qdONkIW9aswjg0OZoLPRWfS-sIBY34vOFUnPIRKTFfh6bq6nSSRRAcQvM0dwCGly5NQ07LzEY8Dn-qlxFCU0w4alSXP6Ni2fg43k79Yb5BObKbXgEYcgHz3fU/w400-h225/0524211307.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">West Peak - same location as on the Connecticut Walk Book cover</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After a nice long lunch at a West Peak overlook (all to myself), it was time to head on down the mountain, and as usual, and the north side was gradual and less dramatic than the south side of the ridge, due to the way the rock layers dip. A pair of young backpackers passed me here, also heading northbound. They had parked just a few miles ahead at Timberlin Park and were eager to finish up their hike from Long Island Sound. They said they had no plans for the rest of the NET. They seemed to be having a blast. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjomWj5BCGwvyae0K0Cntp09LmldXp_jyJWzQzmnM_KsWZrIE7rdbCZQVEctP4fxdSASy0snalc1PXulLive-MHCERQkWm8N9jxVOGQJPX701QJTl23cBlyWBEUOTH1BIO0BzX5LCjDM_s/s1600/0524211341b.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1217" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjomWj5BCGwvyae0K0Cntp09LmldXp_jyJWzQzmnM_KsWZrIE7rdbCZQVEctP4fxdSASy0snalc1PXulLive-MHCERQkWm8N9jxVOGQJPX701QJTl23cBlyWBEUOTH1BIO0BzX5LCjDM_s/w152-h200/0524211341b.jpg" width="152" /></a></div></div><div><br /></div><div>The trail then follows Edgewood Road for a couple miles, yet another road walk section I skipped back in 2012. I walked past a road construction crew and one of the guys asked, "Is this a trail or something?" After the road walk, the trail goes past a golf course and heads into Timberlin Park to climb up Short Mountain, yet another trap rock ridge. This one has a very sharp drop off descending to the north. I remember being tentative about this descent back in 2012, and I was probably more so in 2021 with the backpack. There was a nicely flowing stream at the base, so I gathered as much water as I could carry.</div><div><br /></div><div>And so with a pack full of water, I started up Ragged Mountain. This is a popular place with Rock Climbers, and nearing the top, the NET scrambles up through a narrow rock joint in a cliff. I had done this one before without too much trouble (challenging in a fun way), but the pack loaded with extra water was almost too much. It wanted to pull me over backwards, which would be really bad. I took the pack off and gradually heaved it up the cliff above me an inch at a time, trying to clear a spot for my feet. This is where two backpackers could help each other out. But eventually I cleared the top and gave a sigh of relief. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1emYd2kUtbo9nC7wGGbFYKnwH0LZiTZqtRe7bX4BD08ULFy-Y6B4-SLQ6tqUM3aA6G_3poy0M_t5ePY496TAHYj2FsnqSNR-kpMO5-Q5zIp3KFbUEj6YbovZHLfLu0uHpU5YCzfK0PCc/s1600/0524211728a_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1emYd2kUtbo9nC7wGGbFYKnwH0LZiTZqtRe7bX4BD08ULFy-Y6B4-SLQ6tqUM3aA6G_3poy0M_t5ePY496TAHYj2FsnqSNR-kpMO5-Q5zIp3KFbUEj6YbovZHLfLu0uHpU5YCzfK0PCc/w225-h400/0524211728a_HDR.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading up Ragged Mountain</td></tr></tbody></table><br />There are great views up on Ragged Mountain, which is why it's so popular. I had been to this park several times before there was an NET. Heading north along the ridge, I'd forgotten how strenuous it was (I'd remembered it being pretty easy and flat, which is wrong until you get to the northern end of the park). And something else...there were so many more rogue social trails. The trails that are not marked or sanctioned, and it was hard to follow the blue blazes because of it. This had also been true on East Peak, where took some wrong turns, and I suspect this was largely due to the pandemic crowds in 2020, who had a major impact on some of our trails. I must have take a wrong turn at least a dozen times, and found myself repeatedly stopping at trail junctions trying to figure out which way to go. During the previous trips I had no trouble following the trail, but I certainly had trouble on the second trip. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo7LKgqF1lDC8QoeDOZ2TsyOS7KjGWY5IiNlaIIhgFkn_Ug1l6-h6MX3v2tAypKfGI0gL92bWKZbX-7N-Mi7AOVHSnQAmEEOus8elz3mmrwioKxIdnK0LphtDxWm8x1vrrkgo2yg_MSQI/s1600/0524211743_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1070" data-original-width="1600" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo7LKgqF1lDC8QoeDOZ2TsyOS7KjGWY5IiNlaIIhgFkn_Ug1l6-h6MX3v2tAypKfGI0gL92bWKZbX-7N-Mi7AOVHSnQAmEEOus8elz3mmrwioKxIdnK0LphtDxWm8x1vrrkgo2yg_MSQI/w400-h268/0524211743_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ragged Mountain - looking back at the Hanging Hills</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div>The Ragged Mountain section is about five miles long and there are some great views in all directions, even the Hartford skyline. The further north you go, the fewer people you're likely to see. Turned out there was water flowing in a small stream on the north end, and I never needed all the water on my back in the first place. You just never know.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj8MsQkioLoo_YpKTPVAQ1mJ01Qu_k85E9UgA4LgwkGHYGeEdp9ybigRagI5EH8uKDqKUozyLwpPMT8ocTclCMe-7A9hF014H8G9MZ-FI2JmPFkPvolBn9EFA2Eu95wZyBehyphenhyphenHGB9XU_M/s1600/0525210723b_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj8MsQkioLoo_YpKTPVAQ1mJ01Qu_k85E9UgA4LgwkGHYGeEdp9ybigRagI5EH8uKDqKUozyLwpPMT8ocTclCMe-7A9hF014H8G9MZ-FI2JmPFkPvolBn9EFA2Eu95wZyBehyphenhyphenHGB9XU_M/w400-h225/0525210723b_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ragged Mountain north side</td></tr></tbody></table>The steep descent off of Ragged Mountain is hazardous on loose soil and rock where the trail finds a way around the otherwise continuous cliffs of Ragged Mountain. It was dicey in 2012 and even more so in 2021 with a full pack. Guthook marks this north descent with a warning, although they don't mark the south ascent with a warning (where I actually had a harder time with a pack). Along the entire NET from Long Island South to New Hampshire, I think the most difficult three spots at this time are the two ends of Ragged Mountain and the north side of nearby Short Mountain. Some previously infamous steep sections of the NET have been rerouted since 2012, including the trail at Chauncey and a section at Totoket. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJumK74zvUjwjjMHCr2lE1bgXTZwqWnhVZOHAWwBnoZh7Zr2lBzL7Qccle-Ft4xJOBV3SuOOiDleuOCNEgoA_dM0P9-8k7ryNd51DjdF3_nCf3wktzUzz-vZXM2mFExOXX88ujPVfoqbY/s1600/0525210736.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJumK74zvUjwjjMHCr2lE1bgXTZwqWnhVZOHAWwBnoZh7Zr2lBzL7Qccle-Ft4xJOBV3SuOOiDleuOCNEgoA_dM0P9-8k7ryNd51DjdF3_nCf3wktzUzz-vZXM2mFExOXX88ujPVfoqbY/w400-h225/0525210736.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is true. (Ragged Mtn)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggj_jUMVXSgExdk4BfLAwPTR9MgG64J4a2WG_NcOP6y9w0al4_mDQADljJRhHKp4e3kZGnnTs4rKjnvXHslCgf2JWHwAYjGOGnBifqDvSSBIGuetIo5ETlmfVngvb81J1CnnxErk7ZrCQ/s1600/0525210737.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggj_jUMVXSgExdk4BfLAwPTR9MgG64J4a2WG_NcOP6y9w0al4_mDQADljJRhHKp4e3kZGnnTs4rKjnvXHslCgf2JWHwAYjGOGnBifqDvSSBIGuetIo5ETlmfVngvb81J1CnnxErk7ZrCQ/w400-h226/0525210737.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The trail finally finds a way down the cliffs (Southington)</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The trail then crosses lands around Crescent Lake Park. Much of this I had no memory of from previous hikes. But it was nice. No one was around. The area above Crescent Lake also showed the effects of the pandemic hikers the year before. Back home where I help maintain trails, I found our hiking trails doubled in width during 2020. If a trail tread was 2 ft wide in 2019, it was 4 ft wide in 2021. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfPTG_4p2bnFQ6Nlh5JscU3JzTylvLJnsNQywsVUW6o9kLjEcs6hLHUQrSNRQcx60lGCfM0oTiCWqFrlDN8vb-IewhdsSMXVSs73RjX9WZXVzzfZPqcxgPYsRzZ1GF4is_ohgEASI2tL0/s1600/0525211145a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfPTG_4p2bnFQ6Nlh5JscU3JzTylvLJnsNQywsVUW6o9kLjEcs6hLHUQrSNRQcx60lGCfM0oTiCWqFrlDN8vb-IewhdsSMXVSs73RjX9WZXVzzfZPqcxgPYsRzZ1GF4is_ohgEASI2tL0/w400-h225/0525211145a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rt 372: A Sunoco gas station up the road had some survival food</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br />After skirting another quarry, the NET crosses a big notch in the Metacomet Ridge through which several major highways pass, including I-84. There's a bit of a road walk, but I was looking forward to the deli section of the Super Stop & Shop the maps told me was there. The maps were wrong. The Stop & Shop had been closed and all that was left was a S&S gas station. And even the convenience store for the gas station was closed down. Ouch! </div><div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi10Mj5sMx80YRxoETvRWIYHh52Cb8xp9gJk4ScHVUVmaYW8EV7fSeBRuPQ8uiZIaPTibQJLtFqjXJmGjrtpJ0GZkRdkdpjWnRjyW-ZZBqMssAqcSWUZiVOuLvfhusKQPO7JsXnB0HtmrA/s1600/0525211200_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="997" data-original-width="1600" height="249" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi10Mj5sMx80YRxoETvRWIYHh52Cb8xp9gJk4ScHVUVmaYW8EV7fSeBRuPQ8uiZIaPTibQJLtFqjXJmGjrtpJ0GZkRdkdpjWnRjyW-ZZBqMssAqcSWUZiVOuLvfhusKQPO7JsXnB0HtmrA/w400-h249/0525211200_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking back at I-84 and another trap rock quarry</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I was depending on that Super Stop & Shop for food and water. I had only one day of food left in my pack. I back-tracked to a drive-thru Dunkin Donuts and bought four bottled beverages and two sausage & cheese breakfast sandwiches. Better than nothing. Gave the S&S gas station all my accumulated trash, and continued west down Rt 72 along the NET. Just as the trail turned off the road, I spotted a big Sunoco sign up the highway. Yes! A quick detour and I had enough calories for the rest of the trip. Not very good calories, but good enough. But really, there are so many options when thru hiking this part of Connecticut. Uber Eats, for example, which I've never used. Or call up an Uber for a ride to a grocery store or hotel. There is always cell phone coverage and delivery options. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU8ovJSWhZ7HYBTL_kTg2oZmcbf-NfddsKXwgnJvVmk98spf0ZCB0mHEUvEPiPyf3W3XedxVhFEpnpZinw-17fOl1aYPsPgwhOZbvNNqInJpHQRTGtRzGlvCIkVRc1e8Juy7Ht4l_0xLg/s1600/0525211159.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU8ovJSWhZ7HYBTL_kTg2oZmcbf-NfddsKXwgnJvVmk98spf0ZCB0mHEUvEPiPyf3W3XedxVhFEpnpZinw-17fOl1aYPsPgwhOZbvNNqInJpHQRTGtRzGlvCIkVRc1e8Juy7Ht4l_0xLg/w400-h225/0525211159.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Prickly Pear cactus ... native to Connecticut!<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Having solved the food/water problem, I nearly stepped on a big Black Rat Snake sunning on the rock I was climbing up. I love these snakes. But it's nice to notice them before your face is three feet away.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0_IQnsdv_wmDDOVgscWVYSgYlw0LYzrBGLcztIvWUU0E8KrC7GTh_caZj-nYD_xhghGD_GSfebahvZCiYmnEvc9bes5EVIxPT1XvC4yGOMtLNOPGQmf50_YjwRlP0Y7-HbhLZums4BVs/s1600/0525211203b.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0_IQnsdv_wmDDOVgscWVYSgYlw0LYzrBGLcztIvWUU0E8KrC7GTh_caZj-nYD_xhghGD_GSfebahvZCiYmnEvc9bes5EVIxPT1XvC4yGOMtLNOPGQmf50_YjwRlP0Y7-HbhLZums4BVs/w400-h225/0525211203b.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Black Rat Snake I nearly stepped on in Plainville</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGDt8r4TrgkD7ukTa1hi53O0uizfuT0sN5ivXyUBGzScscug_qqGwL0-ncLkPX8Qt7jkY3qF_ZOy4kFYFSgoM96lwlIJg8QTbllQN7TehqF2H9tmFdVVKNPUAi_oFUW1m10nKYnRDu9NU/s1600/0525211307_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGDt8r4TrgkD7ukTa1hi53O0uizfuT0sN5ivXyUBGzScscug_qqGwL0-ncLkPX8Qt7jkY3qF_ZOy4kFYFSgoM96lwlIJg8QTbllQN7TehqF2H9tmFdVVKNPUAi_oFUW1m10nKYnRDu9NU/w400-h225/0525211307_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the way to Pinnacle Rock (Plainville)</td></tr></tbody></table><br />There are apparently always rock climbers on Pinnacle Rock. By the way, there are two Pinnacle Rocks on the NET not far from each other. The other one is further north at Penwood State Park. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIPEUp0xbl7Ycr0TwbzUEDVC7mrwUf4jf4A1xxy4dJFRbEj70R9Z79vYOzk2DasIW20CnhGOimMMB-4eegmXhVEMAGo4xS5jCJZrS9SjShoWqTp8aQc9sbedUgwW-ZAN-nex0LRRK7svc/s1600/0525211354.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIPEUp0xbl7Ycr0TwbzUEDVC7mrwUf4jf4A1xxy4dJFRbEj70R9Z79vYOzk2DasIW20CnhGOimMMB-4eegmXhVEMAGo4xS5jCJZrS9SjShoWqTp8aQc9sbedUgwW-ZAN-nex0LRRK7svc/w400-h225/0525211354.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rock climbers on Pinnacle Rock in Farmington</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After that was Rattlesnake Mountain, another popular spot for day hikers who can get some spectacular views from the top of the cliffs with a moderate one mile hike. I remembers seeing some neat old graffiti carved into the rock on my first trip, but couldn't find it this time. A down side of thru hiking is you just want to keep going, not keep stopping to look at every little thing or search what might be different and interesting. Back in 2012 I spent a good long time looking (and found) nearby Hospital Rock, which has carvings from a small pox inoculation quarantine. I would never do that thru hiking. On the other hand, you'll see more in a few days than a day hiker would, with full immersion. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8bGtKWvZJkozCVIbllmPLvQTAVhbkU29Mo-8YCaZAdXQbz08QCFqJtlh55_Rn2crTnOE6dJSllWz4T011mlrlg_4nh8eowmu3gd5QFBlXZVEXsyZgGw-s1LrtVbTGtzHoJeJGPTAMOPw/s1600/0525211451.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8bGtKWvZJkozCVIbllmPLvQTAVhbkU29Mo-8YCaZAdXQbz08QCFqJtlh55_Rn2crTnOE6dJSllWz4T011mlrlg_4nh8eowmu3gd5QFBlXZVEXsyZgGw-s1LrtVbTGtzHoJeJGPTAMOPw/w400-h225/0525211451.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading up Rattlesnake Mountain</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The north side of Rattlesnake Mountain is how the day hikers get there, and just last fall CFPA had been sharing photos of an ambitious trail stabilization project through a muddy area. They dug out a long ditch, lined it with rocks, and used the excess soil to build up a causeway lined with timbers. Nice job! This part of the NET seems to be very heavily used. It must have been a real mess when it was muddy. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGO5e58gNDyDxypEWapC8mfhbPpBL3bn7cFQ-Hq3ToHW3eW066SCAU5hJuNK_o37nrvXNcVSxYmT2kgLWscY6zx8DeZxOi1pMNIIauxnZSJD4xsfWJrXXRgLe_6rAU7j5WaGxrw8UBJTY/s1600/0525211547a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGO5e58gNDyDxypEWapC8mfhbPpBL3bn7cFQ-Hq3ToHW3eW066SCAU5hJuNK_o37nrvXNcVSxYmT2kgLWscY6zx8DeZxOi1pMNIIauxnZSJD4xsfWJrXXRgLe_6rAU7j5WaGxrw8UBJTY/w400-h225/0525211547a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This recent CFPA trail project turned out great. </td></tr></tbody></table><br />My first water drop was at the Hillstead Museum property off of Route 4 in Farmington. Before getting there, I kept expecting the roadwalk on Poplar Hill Drive I'd remembered from 2012, but that walk had been eliminated, and I was suddenly at Hillstead. Nice. <br /><br />A few days earlier I had discovered a nice stream still flowing across one of Hillstead's trails, not far from the NET. It wasn't shown on Guthook as a water source, although the Hillstead trails were shown. This was the southernmost trail, not marked and easy to miss, but worth the side trip for water. I didn't need the water for drinking since I'd hidden a gallon of water nearby, but it was a nice spot for taking a break to wash off a bit before heading across busy Route 4.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAAmPuEtvTSKTp6xBoN5ioTFbAVEiAzd_FM7KgVGVyhhJ8w_TEfkFpoqwjoSkDYh994Ck37ajQo1loHe6BQLAsV6ApByerMg5u-fqkMacubYg_nHb7UWFBQSIs1Xu7_0FmYjnScJJJntc/s1600/0526210838.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAAmPuEtvTSKTp6xBoN5ioTFbAVEiAzd_FM7KgVGVyhhJ8w_TEfkFpoqwjoSkDYh994Ck37ajQo1loHe6BQLAsV6ApByerMg5u-fqkMacubYg_nHb7UWFBQSIs1Xu7_0FmYjnScJJJntc/w400-h225/0526210838.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Easy going through MDC lands</td></tr></tbody></table><br />There's a long easy stretch through affluent Farmington subdivisions and then MDC water company lands. The first couple days of hiking were nice, but the third day was forecast to be a sultry 90° followed by severe thunderstorms in the afternoon. I woke up at 4:15 am and started my day walking as fast as I could before the heat became oppressive. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLBK4ilLeL6FCHvGrPHyAN9epM3cK8Rmoo_2jlAumbRBJbl5VhByHlS6iLiexQV9vAGWI55SVt2ulc9mmkGRLD6GGIXk5239_4rxnFhbMGGwIXCSCno_JO_7u5Zc2ZmKd8vS_nOX4Px60/s1600/0526210850_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLBK4ilLeL6FCHvGrPHyAN9epM3cK8Rmoo_2jlAumbRBJbl5VhByHlS6iLiexQV9vAGWI55SVt2ulc9mmkGRLD6GGIXk5239_4rxnFhbMGGwIXCSCno_JO_7u5Zc2ZmKd8vS_nOX4Px60/w400-h225/0526210850_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">MDC Reservoir #6</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The MDC part is OK but not great. It's not typical of the ridge hiking along the rest of the trail, and there was a lot of mountain bike activity degrading parts of the trail. But it went by quickly and by 10:00 am I was approaching Heublein Tower at the top of Talcott Mountain in Simsbury. It was closed. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOvcWA5ZVxk5sYMqghyphenhyphen3xlwCVGIHaZYFaOWi_INW6UG3d0Ww0iguhZR2hqEm_BOHxwh5azUHrptPdVwyAToZBPQJlq2E1WrardI30lXFW6aNFqSOFpQtFXkLgKc-J5-72UtgqxDKXLNaY/s1600/0526210958.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1238" data-original-width="1600" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOvcWA5ZVxk5sYMqghyphenhyphen3xlwCVGIHaZYFaOWi_INW6UG3d0Ww0iguhZR2hqEm_BOHxwh5azUHrptPdVwyAToZBPQJlq2E1WrardI30lXFW6aNFqSOFpQtFXkLgKc-J5-72UtgqxDKXLNaY/w400-h310/0526210958.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Are you kidding me????</td></tr></tbody></table><br />What a disappointment. It makes me want to mispronounce Heublein (the family name pronunciation reportedly started as "Hoybline,"evolved into "Highbline" by family members, and was later corrupted to "Hughbline" by company interests). I've been up to the top a few times before, but I walked a long way looking forward to the views. Oh well. More critically, the drinking fountain that Guthook indicated was there had not been opened for the season. I wasn't too worried since I still had some water. If you're thru hiking the NET anytime soon and using Guthook, just be aware that it's a brand new map offering and there are kinks to work out. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3OlUaK8S9K8Ze1geATyN1tlax_yDo4V2nPlMfnSw2JoVIwKdTl8xe8a6el25dc8Kx3QUWT0coOk6_jnqgThPFXYUw4pI0_hTEEQaDnMRHfI68xdiEfrPlW4eRRfw7tilK68NgGswn0lo/s1600/0526211005_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3OlUaK8S9K8Ze1geATyN1tlax_yDo4V2nPlMfnSw2JoVIwKdTl8xe8a6el25dc8Kx3QUWT0coOk6_jnqgThPFXYUw4pI0_hTEEQaDnMRHfI68xdiEfrPlW4eRRfw7tilK68NgGswn0lo/w400-h225/0526211005_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nice shady spot for a hot day in Talcott State Park</td></tr></tbody></table><br />But even if the tower is closed, the views are fantastic and the grounds are beautiful. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhNiL-NXgmsOXG0fsSqNcSOh0eCJ4atDGX4KnbQxYKADdYbYOfG3EbWj21HLE2UHgf_55eSn8x3DYB_N1snB0xoYw6M654guppLXbw7OQwWLxfsdpu95jMsutGWDfpBVxBd6zdUMFc-0Q/s1600/0526211023.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhNiL-NXgmsOXG0fsSqNcSOh0eCJ4atDGX4KnbQxYKADdYbYOfG3EbWj21HLE2UHgf_55eSn8x3DYB_N1snB0xoYw6M654guppLXbw7OQwWLxfsdpu95jMsutGWDfpBVxBd6zdUMFc-0Q/w400-h225/0526211023.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heublein Tower (Tower #2)</td></tr></tbody></table><br />At Talcott, my pace slowed to a crawl. It was HOT. Talcott eventually gave way to Penwood State Park. I'd remembered only the easy paved road there and forgot that the NET skips the paved option and takes the hard way up some traprock before descending back to the paved loop and Lake Louise. Much prettier. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDz_I6J7ennVq56MXett9W1XlhUExXV46nUsAbRE86iMxP8aiWWT9eLWZIE2uvnidbnblNwU_-goW95GQHSncIq9jKdOXLaJs60Jirb3qXZk4xcgMeCVRdCn74jfMbErwIKLT2lfoRFOw/s1600/0526211332a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDz_I6J7ennVq56MXett9W1XlhUExXV46nUsAbRE86iMxP8aiWWT9eLWZIE2uvnidbnblNwU_-goW95GQHSncIq9jKdOXLaJs60Jirb3qXZk4xcgMeCVRdCn74jfMbErwIKLT2lfoRFOw/w400-h225/0526211332a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lake Louise, Penwood S.P., <br />some of which was poured onto my head</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Guthook lists Lake Louise as 'marshy' but it's really just an open pond with some beaver activity, causing the water to back up into some brushy areas. The water was discolored with tanins but was probably drinkable with a filter. It was more than fine for throwing on my head. A viewing platform provides easy access to the open water. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIHywqoUI9RbeVgkOniPReCrQjFXj12sxGLqZ70dE79ZCftVViBmEVWKSHvpA6kz8PDC2uxVMc6QJ1NTiruP4ICsHxiydUiLzg5aCxWJ6b39PTk2rtaKRT5w0C0cHuFE6Mch6lEtyekiQ/s1600/0526211405b.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIHywqoUI9RbeVgkOniPReCrQjFXj12sxGLqZ70dE79ZCftVViBmEVWKSHvpA6kz8PDC2uxVMc6QJ1NTiruP4ICsHxiydUiLzg5aCxWJ6b39PTk2rtaKRT5w0C0cHuFE6Mch6lEtyekiQ/w400-h225/0526211405b.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">90° at Penwood State Park, looking back at Heublein Tower</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div>I then staggered up the second Pinnacle Rock of the trip under a blazing sun. Nice breeze, though. I really enjoyed looking back at Heublein Tower off in the distance. Around this time I started getting texts from my husband about the approaching storms. Probably good until 5:00 pm. Lots of lightening. Make that 4:30. Some major hail. There is nothing worse than setting a tent up in pouring rain. I did it once and plan to never do it again. I picked the pace back up, racing to my next water stash. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIeajw9MdW2HWcmgY4uNWp0m5hFwBMk8_iV1GwoFWUZji6z4Qr_iPI0KT_Ee7nM7wNz_6ooIges27RqFrbUe5njbI0rnoRliK1Vw6mjTfzFJNpK-36q253WKNLjGWzhXSEaLH7GqtBqzA/s1600/0526211449.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIeajw9MdW2HWcmgY4uNWp0m5hFwBMk8_iV1GwoFWUZji6z4Qr_iPI0KT_Ee7nM7wNz_6ooIges27RqFrbUe5njbI0rnoRliK1Vw6mjTfzFJNpK-36q253WKNLjGWzhXSEaLH7GqtBqzA/w400-h225/0526211449.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grateful for this water I hid entering Wilcox Park</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I passed a couple older women who commented on my backpack said they were section hiking the entire Connecticut NET southbound. A little at a time. That's wonderful. I hope they complete their challenge and get to see all of it. Then I came to my water stash off of Wintonbury Rd. This one was critical. So glad to have the water! <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii2f5DGgfSSRT8C-twvSBJP5RXcf9uAthEjaVTZ-B9jObUBn2aUVEbW9T9q_2zw2IvgieWHBm6iqNFSXTmh2eV28-1OJG50ReVdue7b9xg7B51Fd7n9fkEvv5VMSttgF6leNDbW69d9Lc/s1600/0526211520.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii2f5DGgfSSRT8C-twvSBJP5RXcf9uAthEjaVTZ-B9jObUBn2aUVEbW9T9q_2zw2IvgieWHBm6iqNFSXTmh2eV28-1OJG50ReVdue7b9xg7B51Fd7n9fkEvv5VMSttgF6leNDbW69d9Lc/w400-h225/0526211520.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wilcox Park. Much of the NET looks like this.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Later on the storm finally arrived and cooled everything down. No hail or major wind, just some lightening and a lot of rain. All was good. The next morning I intent on wiping wet hemlock needles off my tent when I stood up and discovered a big black bear on the other side of the tent, not twenty feet away. Oh my. I believe that black bears are mostly big fat cowards just looking for a plate of cookies. But still. He seemed very large. Maybe he wasn't, but he seemed that way. I told him to leave. He did not. </div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9uNN4POQeHJuud7-gRBullNxI26RTngmxUiT_eXgC0Yg_0HRMKKnBkPWGaARjGUHuT46D0JI_kNZwkI8aPRfVR7NPTU4BmjU5RIo6xuP3R8IwCI8mKDVLdtsuna738iMoZoWPh5opRwk/s929/195502566_10226206890623444_3507659408327207842_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="581" data-original-width="929" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9uNN4POQeHJuud7-gRBullNxI26RTngmxUiT_eXgC0Yg_0HRMKKnBkPWGaARjGUHuT46D0JI_kNZwkI8aPRfVR7NPTU4BmjU5RIo6xuP3R8IwCI8mKDVLdtsuna738iMoZoWPh5opRwk/w400-h250/195502566_10226206890623444_3507659408327207842_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Early morning visitor</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>I read somewhere that you can carry a plastic grocery bag in your pocket and snap that back and forth to startle them away. I tested it on my dog and he shot across the room in terror. So I pulled out the plastic garbage bag that was lining my backpack. It had some stuff in it but whatever. Took a step toward the bear and snapped that garbage bag. You should have seen him jump backwards. They can really move pretty fast. He ducked behind a nearby tree and peered back at me. I shook the bag a few more times and yelled at him and he continued on down the hill away from the tent. I packed up faster after that. The tent had been empty when he arrived, and all my food was still hanging in a bear bag. At any rate, this part of Connecticut is full of fearless bears (Avon, Simsbury, Barkhamstead...). There are a lot of them and there is no bear hunting in Connecticut. Be prepared. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_rwU8QlVtmDKDxKFqK-LDtrrsbN_CC6gyo1TnImMFXkpzqzzkT_H8bpyi8eXuX5syLiHq64yX2AS8MLAhaj_Tg6TfSNS8aTgFCQONZoOEACK82DGZUnUSlDixwn612cYtq_MA52FdkHQ/s1600/0527210830_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_rwU8QlVtmDKDxKFqK-LDtrrsbN_CC6gyo1TnImMFXkpzqzzkT_H8bpyi8eXuX5syLiHq64yX2AS8MLAhaj_Tg6TfSNS8aTgFCQONZoOEACK82DGZUnUSlDixwn612cYtq_MA52FdkHQ/w400-h225/0527210830_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Farmington River</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I hiked this trail northbound because I wanted to save the best for last. From the Farmington River to the top of West Suffield Mountain is a real treat. Hatchet Hill, with no views, was probably the worst of it, but still well worth the hike. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHVYizBvEAXWsQ9DGxLAqgkrUSe-EYKUhyphenhyphenYrTxyWoApz8bI6p6f4r7L82Xx-Z4aLCw1PUrBXm8L20pOnXmzX6zC3LlHZNZYXZb3nWyKEtm0o8TVrrk0smPkCfYH-T6DJ9vvswIPH2KYug/s1600/0527210852_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHVYizBvEAXWsQ9DGxLAqgkrUSe-EYKUhyphenhyphenYrTxyWoApz8bI6p6f4r7L82Xx-Z4aLCw1PUrBXm8L20pOnXmzX6zC3LlHZNZYXZb3nWyKEtm0o8TVrrk0smPkCfYH-T6DJ9vvswIPH2KYug/w400-h225/0527210852_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking across Tarrifville Gorge</td></tr></tbody></table><br />My favorite is the long ridge called Peak Mountain in the south and West Suffield Mountain to the north, but is really just one long ridge. Both ends get some day hikers heading up to the overlooks, but the part in between is classic NET ridge hiking and it doesn't get a lot of traffic. So I slowed down and savored this section. It was worth it. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2S20-HSsk95nysODfILxRSx7wS5J9P8QeEmLb6IrJgaUjsKOnlDWA-7dKddwJzCYS0pi783nXfzHYyzSvpsVuaIHxA1E363VX-WEmrimKwYqny9xhMXfSJzkeKsM9q4DxLsKP6AZXRzs/s1600/0527211238.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2S20-HSsk95nysODfILxRSx7wS5J9P8QeEmLb6IrJgaUjsKOnlDWA-7dKddwJzCYS0pi783nXfzHYyzSvpsVuaIHxA1E363VX-WEmrimKwYqny9xhMXfSJzkeKsM9q4DxLsKP6AZXRzs/w400-h225/0527211238.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peak Mountain</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoZoYi7JO47V_E_jpzEkMOqGAdUQdNKe7B4wp7Te8wKI5lIJe7IlcCg1EDoZxx45kn2hzYuvYhpa2EJ-263M_CVQl0_94FjmWfMEQJb1CeDKoNd1l5t17oBrmOtjE9IKFD3qurfY0Vfh0/s1600/0527211305_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoZoYi7JO47V_E_jpzEkMOqGAdUQdNKe7B4wp7Te8wKI5lIJe7IlcCg1EDoZxx45kn2hzYuvYhpa2EJ-263M_CVQl0_94FjmWfMEQJb1CeDKoNd1l5t17oBrmOtjE9IKFD3qurfY0Vfh0/w400-h225/0527211305_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">West Suffield Mtn</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The last traprock ridge in Connecticut is Suffield Mountain. It's very easy without all the scenic overlooks except along some powerlines. But it has the state line marker, which was the goal. There. Now I can say I covered every foot of trail from Long Island Sound to the Canadian border (I previously skipped some road walks on the Connecticut section). <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu-4FcXLPHN62OTWbMUqSFkIz0Raklfd-jFX3dA6G0pfbl2ALXPTgWzrGr5SuJg_HwiELrY9qYTNsJLza3rFAkq3KTb3Lm1VxnTjt9nVmE4Y1bzaOJs3MTQjk1w6l-YsX0BQOrvpBIe5c/s1600/0527211555e.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="901" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu-4FcXLPHN62OTWbMUqSFkIz0Raklfd-jFX3dA6G0pfbl2ALXPTgWzrGr5SuJg_HwiELrY9qYTNsJLza3rFAkq3KTb3Lm1VxnTjt9nVmE4Y1bzaOJs3MTQjk1w6l-YsX0BQOrvpBIe5c/w225-h400/0527211555e.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">State Line!</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Rising Corner Road is just beyond the state line, and the trail was better developed than in 2012 and 2016 (in 2012 it did not extend to the road, and in 2016 it was hard to follow). There are places to park now, and more signage. </div><div><br /></div><div><b>A note on technology</b>: My husband and I both used Google Maps and shared our location with each other (I had imported a gpx track from a previous NET hiker into a custom Google Map and shared that with my husband so he could see me and the trail). This made it really convenient for him to track my progress along the trail, and for me to see where he was at while waiting for a ride. Highly recommend it. And Guthook was well worth the $15 it cost to download the NET map. Loved it. </div></div>Teresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04628471774296555013noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410961879681386812.post-1808481222904049822021-05-13T10:02:00.000-04:002021-06-08T16:28:32.680-04:00Thru-Hiking the Connecticut NET Part 1: Long Island Sound and Trap Rock<p>I section-hiked the Connecticut section of the NET back in 2012, so now let's thru-hike it! Long Island Sound to the Massachusetts border is about 107 miles, but I had to split that in half and take a break in Berlin shortly before the Hanging Hills. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ4u7WNTeMdeiRwtFHbRivsWJ9-1VyuwLsWSLHcKvsI16OxYZpAp04FH-UF2hyphenhyphen8gKeAr0BHpuJmF_YJ2C70tsk6hu1XnR_koS5-cyjKTiE-O-4Y3dpwaPct4ld10dOFOEQPDMwpYOVLj4/s1600/0509210939a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="893" data-original-width="1600" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ4u7WNTeMdeiRwtFHbRivsWJ9-1VyuwLsWSLHcKvsI16OxYZpAp04FH-UF2hyphenhyphen8gKeAr0BHpuJmF_YJ2C70tsk6hu1XnR_koS5-cyjKTiE-O-4Y3dpwaPct4ld10dOFOEQPDMwpYOVLj4/w400-h224/0509210939a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Long Island Sound, Guilford trailhead</td></tr></tbody></table>Back in 2012, the trail was pretty new and parts were still under construction. A lot of work on the trail has been done since then, including some relocations to bypass road walks or steep sections. That boardwalk in the above picture wasn't there, for example. For the typical section-hiker, the trail has really matured. <div><br /></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIZRMVUERukHhyZYpxTkNUDYe1dGGUznuUARE-56Q8BJL75PEJwQ-lI-KkXD9iDm23dg1zGlk597a0cBkHJBPXHeizzVuPw2TcuIz6W44OhriQNPsjdC8fQmeKv3Sk6AQcjnLfA5HT6jk/s1000/Part+1+NET-WP-Map-01-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="682" data-original-width="1000" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIZRMVUERukHhyZYpxTkNUDYe1dGGUznuUARE-56Q8BJL75PEJwQ-lI-KkXD9iDm23dg1zGlk597a0cBkHJBPXHeizzVuPw2TcuIz6W44OhriQNPsjdC8fQmeKv3Sk6AQcjnLfA5HT6jk/w400-h272/Part+1+NET-WP-Map-01-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This hike was four days and three nights</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-UcEmh3Tj-B2iimayj2fSAA5j8WhAt_neZq5TUBzr8pBwdqvyu-1Z7qMazpdIENPi6A9UEF1nr4sCTYEO9dKQwcMptjjkOYCDmQY6T4ZemBpfWzpkbGJipsur__kXeCr9sUqMsOA-nR0/s1600/0509211254.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-UcEmh3Tj-B2iimayj2fSAA5j8WhAt_neZq5TUBzr8pBwdqvyu-1Z7qMazpdIENPi6A9UEF1nr4sCTYEO9dKQwcMptjjkOYCDmQY6T4ZemBpfWzpkbGJipsur__kXeCr9sUqMsOA-nR0/w400-h225/0509211254.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">East River </td></tr></tbody></table><br />But what about for thru-hiking (backpacking)? It's still in the early stages, with just four approved tenting locations. "Stealth camping" is not allowed. But the bigger obstacle is lack of water. The trap rock ridges are notoriously dry. Which is why I decided to hike the NET in the spring rather than fall. There's usually more water running in the spring. I decided to start with a four-day hike and see how far I got. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxzs-fNREH0aC2T0i2lmlWGQcpOpCEkbA0xDvQHBF-JHALX1omrueBJ_GDLrLeqwOmLbS7wNptPZ8yFTJ6tR5wAa7aOBjMYv3OqcoSHNbl_MddU9MP5H6npH_KMdy17ebyH8iWf8GUiM4/s1600/0509211450.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxzs-fNREH0aC2T0i2lmlWGQcpOpCEkbA0xDvQHBF-JHALX1omrueBJ_GDLrLeqwOmLbS7wNptPZ8yFTJ6tR5wAa7aOBjMYv3OqcoSHNbl_MddU9MP5H6npH_KMdy17ebyH8iWf8GUiM4/w400-h225/0509211450.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Timberlands, Guilford</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAW-kDAOO31tWOIRi-cQtSDC23zFsnI9O5L6OfV5Tq6HFEZdLIzLHCEknlQKLKhM-ZKcMsGp361jb-THfiY-ohVXNrl1kk4Tb5VrkgEEAd8xt877ZZ5E47uzsZAX68icDklCnWgzB_HXo/s1600/0510210905a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1120" data-original-width="1600" height="140" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAW-kDAOO31tWOIRi-cQtSDC23zFsnI9O5L6OfV5Tq6HFEZdLIzLHCEknlQKLKhM-ZKcMsGp361jb-THfiY-ohVXNrl1kk4Tb5VrkgEEAd8xt877ZZ5E47uzsZAX68icDklCnWgzB_HXo/w200-h140/0510210905a.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br /><br />The week of Mother's Day turned out to be an ideal week for hiking the NET. The seasonal streams were running (especially after 1/2" fell the first night out). The trees were partly leafed out, providing some shade and screening. The bugs weren't bad. And there were still some spring wildflowers. It was cool, but not too cold (40 degrees one night). Perfect. <div><br /></div><div>I also elected start this hike on a Monday to avoid the yahoos that clutter up the trails on the weekend with their ATVs and mountain bikes and people yelling on their cell phones. I saw very few people on this hike. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxJMe-s1KRgEONKqlWg-gj89s59e6DxMRfEXS4I0YtBe8PXK8fGcaj6TieuB7vhCpW7JVhoP_ShEi0zdWUUi6KJAbQnEuQ2TCm6OnczBdXiYb6eFx94n3TLZsOl8ljYVendU5bOQOKCps/s1600/0510211019.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1127" data-original-width="1600" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxJMe-s1KRgEONKqlWg-gj89s59e6DxMRfEXS4I0YtBe8PXK8fGcaj6TieuB7vhCpW7JVhoP_ShEi0zdWUUi6KJAbQnEuQ2TCm6OnczBdXiYb6eFx94n3TLZsOl8ljYVendU5bOQOKCps/w400-h281/0510211019.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There were plenty of signs and maps that didn't use to be there</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The first part of the hike through Guilford not typical of the NET. There's the four-mile road walk to start, although this is a pretty nice road walk with lots of interesting things to see. Then the trail is pretty low and gentle as it passes through East River Preserve, Nut Plain Woods, and Timberland Preserve. My water bag started leaking badly, which is not good, especially on a trail known for little water. But I had a couple 0.5 liter bottles that were good enough for the time being. </div><div><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH-4qbrM7S6YLbRy6x843eybyDe-J_wUrDMqs9nd8mxiFySJzCFPFSfH0dLDDFwfccHHmGYzkEKM51anPIGnhrssDEEsyaS7HV-exBNfaTFWiDdLTz7_7lhjnZVTW9qrMD07fCSbbwLxo/s1600/0510211222.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="911" data-original-width="1600" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH-4qbrM7S6YLbRy6x843eybyDe-J_wUrDMqs9nd8mxiFySJzCFPFSfH0dLDDFwfccHHmGYzkEKM51anPIGnhrssDEEsyaS7HV-exBNfaTFWiDdLTz7_7lhjnZVTW9qrMD07fCSbbwLxo/w400-h228/0510211222.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from the first trap rock ridge: Totoket</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Just before reaching the first of the trap rock ridges, the trail goes through some dramatic metamorphic rock called Broomstick Ledges, where the fault line is located that divides the Central Valley from the Eastern Upland. Then you cross Rt 77 (which runs right along the fault line) and now you're on the Metacomet Trap Rock Ridge. Up to this point, there were numerous seasonal streams to drink from. That would be coming to an end, although there were still a couple flowing streams between Totoket and Beseck. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDTO8NSjEc8kkVUTiD7oChN6fm-TkBNQnw0_DYzVtH3G1Jz0q_4CMh8XZM94DORmx-TD3qt9xQTvcR-11_a4zTPpOBGTTmfZNHkjg1eRMxdpU-638o07ogwjX6xbyUk0sIdXdZAfEyFMc/s1600/0510211525.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDTO8NSjEc8kkVUTiD7oChN6fm-TkBNQnw0_DYzVtH3G1Jz0q_4CMh8XZM94DORmx-TD3qt9xQTvcR-11_a4zTPpOBGTTmfZNHkjg1eRMxdpU-638o07ogwjX6xbyUk0sIdXdZAfEyFMc/w400-h225/0510211525.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Convenience store on Rt. 17 in Durham</td></tr></tbody></table><br />There's a popular thru-hiking app called Guthook that just came out with a map of the NET ($15). The app shows important places to get food and water and tells you how far it is to any location you choose on the map. People can comment about whether a stream is flowing or if the pizza is any good at a store. Guthook's NET map is so new there weren't even any comments by users yet. I added a few. One was that the convenience store on Rt 17 has a deli, but the deli was tragically closed at 3:15 when I arrived. But I was able to get some bottled beverages (especially important since my water bag was broken). <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9Q-6u9QJcCkVntVyxftGPCjhCDGstSFPXyEZ0mGHS3C2EKQInU4UVfDQqC8_qH0QBlNR9RX8WAApTgz8FZHgBufzxBcoe-81kjBIoIVnvuoFNrNW9YLqI9eN0tgGtZwdg0gD_lR-vQYs/s1600/0510211535.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9Q-6u9QJcCkVntVyxftGPCjhCDGstSFPXyEZ0mGHS3C2EKQInU4UVfDQqC8_qH0QBlNR9RX8WAApTgz8FZHgBufzxBcoe-81kjBIoIVnvuoFNrNW9YLqI9eN0tgGtZwdg0gD_lR-vQYs/w400-h225/0510211535.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seasonal streams were running great (Pistapaug Mtn)</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I really enjoyed Pistapaug Mountain and thenTrimountain State Park, which includes Fowler Mtn and Trimountain. Back in 2012, I was there during a snowless winter, so the mountains seemed bleak and were covered with ATV tracks. This time they were quite pleasant aside from some distance target shooting.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQBhLQGrmw5D5cUGopB0ZOVG7GN2WQPnRPTM1BCj2b_6XVA0kh_CV7vUa9hCBaBJ-pHBJdaOlk0U0S9XJVb7zF5sUTFSnbjV4oi9r8xUwyIjB5UjSL-F1zgx0ZfDzNpDEccJ-bLmIf5bo/s1600/0510211949.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQBhLQGrmw5D5cUGopB0ZOVG7GN2WQPnRPTM1BCj2b_6XVA0kh_CV7vUa9hCBaBJ-pHBJdaOlk0U0S9XJVb7zF5sUTFSnbjV4oi9r8xUwyIjB5UjSL-F1zgx0ZfDzNpDEccJ-bLmIf5bo/w400-h225/0510211949.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tri-Mountain State Park</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The weather was great during this trip and the visibility much better than it is during our muggy summers. I could seen New Haven and Long Island Sound from a number of trap rock overlooks. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSkz6HygKHyXI_ykcpu1KsqBV1N4E25uaUiew94nsvwZYcSXMOT4Ti1eorcJOmfxVSZzMWo7Vu6CRMxEaU-r5DcwI8oYfMXTMVQsLSiQr0B0vFWGa9SdOTXQwd3JY2nE-qihhW31qOHUE/s1600/0511210811a_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSkz6HygKHyXI_ykcpu1KsqBV1N4E25uaUiew94nsvwZYcSXMOT4Ti1eorcJOmfxVSZzMWo7Vu6CRMxEaU-r5DcwI8oYfMXTMVQsLSiQr0B0vFWGa9SdOTXQwd3JY2nE-qihhW31qOHUE/w400-h225/0511210811a_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trimountain and Ulbrich Reservoir</td></tr></tbody></table><br />There are only four designated camping areas along the NET in Connecticut so far, including Cattail Shelter in Reed Gap where the trail crosses Rt 68. And you aren't supposed to stealth camp. But people are, of course, backpacking this trail (not many - I only ran into one couple during the entire thru hike). When there is no campsite, your options are to catch an Uber to a local hotel, or to break the rules and stealth camp. It's especially important to not camp on private property, which could lead to the trail being shut down, and to stay out of sight and leave no trace so that no one could tell you were ever there. There are actually a number of rogue camping areas with fire rings along the cliffs, made not by backpackers but more likely by local kids on ATVs. I hope backpackers are not blamed for those places. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUU5nUDtqjekZRIbkQ3aqTEdQfTQ7sGS8uabQeIQSi67jixySvj_vyudjEm-WTGUSnzFrYRcTg2f_dxlTAj3dG5Cifcp1zFvh3rP32dx7iMxsRilXHKi0SdgnMIS4eDc25XWqEAKzPnSY/s1600/0511210944.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1183" data-original-width="1600" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUU5nUDtqjekZRIbkQ3aqTEdQfTQ7sGS8uabQeIQSi67jixySvj_vyudjEm-WTGUSnzFrYRcTg2f_dxlTAj3dG5Cifcp1zFvh3rP32dx7iMxsRilXHKi0SdgnMIS4eDc25XWqEAKzPnSY/w400-h296/0511210944.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cattail Shelter, between Trimountain and Beseck</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I forgot how long Beseck Mountain is. It went on forever. The southern end is nice, with only seasonal views. The middle part is a combination of yahoo land and Powder Ridge resort (not just for skiing any longer, apparently). And the northern end is full of dramatic cliffwalks and views. A wicked west wind was blasting the cliff as I passed through, so no one else was up there. I was happy for the trekking poles, which helped to keep me vertical against the wind. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQKFN0ptCElO1DWAs2RvuSpbdcw6xcPaukTHi-A1Wc3kHlP6jQ52dGoj0H6tWnvcqoSy3stYkiinRKhdok4lJObaoxM8XmaMitOdYj84Otbom5Z7l3-tiuONZCZVgfjZWULCZNpHNFlLQ/s1600/0511211212.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQKFN0ptCElO1DWAs2RvuSpbdcw6xcPaukTHi-A1Wc3kHlP6jQ52dGoj0H6tWnvcqoSy3stYkiinRKhdok4lJObaoxM8XmaMitOdYj84Otbom5Z7l3-tiuONZCZVgfjZWULCZNpHNFlLQ/w400-h225/0511211212.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Powder Ridge Resort on Beseck Mountain, Middlefield</td></tr></tbody></table><br />If you are planning a thru hike and wondering about footwear, go for the heavier option. I did, and was quite happy with my choice. Trap rock ridges can be brutal on your feet with all the sharp, angular rock, including unstable stones underfoot. That uneven rock will probably slow you down, too. Allow extra time. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO9BS6iDQXbJGXj9qyx4xb3l7wYvDhFMTsUsQf5_gh92dR9Y1Rn5zZmSAbodcGPNcbcamR7A8X45T9VMqPOW9yCWEooj21v9_qvPfO_3OVB7F3SXRgNymOUfHX0BooV0h-Y1r3O2hUcOc/s1600/0511211302.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO9BS6iDQXbJGXj9qyx4xb3l7wYvDhFMTsUsQf5_gh92dR9Y1Rn5zZmSAbodcGPNcbcamR7A8X45T9VMqPOW9yCWEooj21v9_qvPfO_3OVB7F3SXRgNymOUfHX0BooV0h-Y1r3O2hUcOc/w400-h225/0511211302.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from Beseck towards Higby Mtn. It was windy. </td></tr></tbody></table><br />My husband works in nearby Meriden, so we met up at Guidas on Route 66. Best. Hot dogs. Ever. And I don't really even like hot dogs much.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5VBhZS6WtC2iRYhB1L-fjXBm8D2mw-aF_n8ccmqDqX_M_6Gumz1jrjpem2YOpXRA4-WKNYKErXD57mI4xAnrhh5VjOk3VwuCaj7XlgnuU5FYZ6lp0bbamHwzxDkV97He5fioCEF5J7S0/s1600/0511211419.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1115" data-original-width="1600" height="279" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5VBhZS6WtC2iRYhB1L-fjXBm8D2mw-aF_n8ccmqDqX_M_6Gumz1jrjpem2YOpXRA4-WKNYKErXD57mI4xAnrhh5VjOk3VwuCaj7XlgnuU5FYZ6lp0bbamHwzxDkV97He5fioCEF5J7S0/w400-h279/0511211419.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Guidas!</td></tr></tbody></table>After that incredible meal, my poor husband had to return to engineering stuff, while I rambled up the two dramatic peaks called Mount Higby. It being so windy, and a weekday, I only saw a couple people. I've been there at other times when there were maybe 50 or 100 people up there. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhamrzrZ1e2wBPN7e-2MUKRaUBQgpTphKzotl233zsFSd0l3HPHsxm2x33eRfpYD1i7cEreU5SMaBU_X5SppG-zyNUwrgNZ4uBqcbFLsftwD44nu_uz8DRsTIw_6eDoQI4UkJH4Ah91WEQ/s1600/0511211535.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhamrzrZ1e2wBPN7e-2MUKRaUBQgpTphKzotl233zsFSd0l3HPHsxm2x33eRfpYD1i7cEreU5SMaBU_X5SppG-zyNUwrgNZ4uBqcbFLsftwD44nu_uz8DRsTIw_6eDoQI4UkJH4Ah91WEQ/w400-h225/0511211535.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mount Higby is very popular </td></tr></tbody></table><br />I found in 2020 that most trail treads became about twice as wide as normal because so many people were on the trails due to the pandemic shutdown. The photo above shows a trail tread of about 5 feet. I wonder what it is normally. <br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDDngEKqtX5BklxqklLPWcX9PVMebVuGOP5exnuI_0gCtvbteYu9nWO7_pyIzXBmInzNQq83WLNQ0TtBR7peuGlOFt1IoAF1Vtucdf-PGaZRNX50IgQZt6iyIRX79fTqLWvcIR3lyVGMc/s1600/0511211538.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDDngEKqtX5BklxqklLPWcX9PVMebVuGOP5exnuI_0gCtvbteYu9nWO7_pyIzXBmInzNQq83WLNQ0TtBR7peuGlOFt1IoAF1Vtucdf-PGaZRNX50IgQZt6iyIRX79fTqLWvcIR3lyVGMc/w400-h225/0511211538.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meriden's Hanging Hills in the distance</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Higby is always dramatic. When thru-hiking, it's fun to look head and see the quarry at Chauncey and Meriden's Hanging Hills beyond that. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJXdKiufF2S8CcZSNkk7UJ8Dm251_SaNwxDJtx7gTkuE7SQ9VS5E25X4epHO0ig2hQeFvYnA3uWLzlwmnFR5ZACszyJ-p7ysYdm5RHwzLtaJRjR9DgR90N4JyDtPgff8bNNztrIPciVNs/s1600/0511211551.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4vnUUPb6r83S36HiDOaHIVrKxzyaVuUunytXl6vtsEdAcWDG-PrKgtkU37MOolNSADYkdcCz5xyPV08hKCLvyTEby85bK6Bu9vMrFV_C9NC1vg6GDt9ouyA1sA7TNVLlgI13Ss6c2sfM/s1600/0511211553c.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1128" data-original-width="1600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4vnUUPb6r83S36HiDOaHIVrKxzyaVuUunytXl6vtsEdAcWDG-PrKgtkU37MOolNSADYkdcCz5xyPV08hKCLvyTEby85bK6Bu9vMrFV_C9NC1vg6GDt9ouyA1sA7TNVLlgI13Ss6c2sfM/s320/0511211553c.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Luna Moth up on the cliffs</td></tr></tbody></table>There was no water from the beginning of Beseck to the far side of Higby, even this time of year, except for a seasonal stream of questionable quality running alongside Rt 68 next to Guida's. And that store doesn't sell bottled beverages. Water is a real issue when hiking this trail. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqnD4D80Z3Evzr5KL2_PuXa4ArCTLC8P52KaxwgLPz-SgMI130rYkCOKYv8K-zXQXhI2vjlRWusi0q_Ex8rqDLsI5NJAkAFLcduGmukj1DX1jKcxwjvVvl8pXvFee95w_9l-uaZmhCGrI/s1600/0512210826.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqnD4D80Z3Evzr5KL2_PuXa4ArCTLC8P52KaxwgLPz-SgMI130rYkCOKYv8K-zXQXhI2vjlRWusi0q_Ex8rqDLsI5NJAkAFLcduGmukj1DX1jKcxwjvVvl8pXvFee95w_9l-uaZmhCGrI/w400-h225/0512210826.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seasonal stream north side of Higby, Middletown</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMgwSrRDPLoBotsHrCPoW8SfXE7bCVuLXNDIdtGq8ogbziQkP6stWRP9_e5iEDOaDbHRA4ztBc6X-JyZBxUguyx3W0oR3efbEOVFN-l0qLvvFYR_SE5KeZFJMTKjVzJAH2UgmqW0Jf-us/s1600/0512210902_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMgwSrRDPLoBotsHrCPoW8SfXE7bCVuLXNDIdtGq8ogbziQkP6stWRP9_e5iEDOaDbHRA4ztBc6X-JyZBxUguyx3W0oR3efbEOVFN-l0qLvvFYR_SE5KeZFJMTKjVzJAH2UgmqW0Jf-us/w400-h225/0512210902_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I-91 Crossing</td></tr></tbody></table><br />One of the reasons I wanted to thru-hiking the Connecticut section of the NET was that when I section-hiked it back in 2012, I skipped some of the road walks. That makes perfect sense if you are section hiking. Why bother hiking a long road-walk out and back? It's usually pointless. But going north from the CT-Mass line, I had done every single foot all the way up to the Canadian border, even kayaking across the Connecticut River. So part of me wanted to complete that in Connecticut. The first road walk section I may have missed in 2012 was walking over I-91. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZQ0ixXqEw6D6_T0fCd9Cc9oio01FBxgDPinCg-lMyFIE11NXos4Q-8-yxg9Ci_ah03EHjT5iTBJDNeHEuQtQxGrrxWlljh6hzVovAJiHSsMkRwh9cyGynu1IF8qv3kAwzT-YG8XqFC-Q/s1600/0512210925.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZQ0ixXqEw6D6_T0fCd9Cc9oio01FBxgDPinCg-lMyFIE11NXos4Q-8-yxg9Ci_ah03EHjT5iTBJDNeHEuQtQxGrrxWlljh6hzVovAJiHSsMkRwh9cyGynu1IF8qv3kAwzT-YG8XqFC-Q/w400-h225/0512210925.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Highland Pond, Middletown </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxBaXTQ02HOSDPlzuiuZbmEIDjM-s1zlmk_WI10g_v4Z-ZzWvnkuT2GZ2EAMMq7p5iftFDPrK84RmV4BgyUBXmXtJWCZX_Yfpxtmfb6Zwvk6fBVDP7JOI4A0nPu6V6sr1mbCTjYX9pGoU/s1600/0512211028a.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1113" data-original-width="1600" height="139" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxBaXTQ02HOSDPlzuiuZbmEIDjM-s1zlmk_WI10g_v4Z-ZzWvnkuT2GZ2EAMMq7p5iftFDPrK84RmV4BgyUBXmXtJWCZX_Yfpxtmfb6Zwvk6fBVDP7JOI4A0nPu6V6sr1mbCTjYX9pGoU/w200-h139/0512211028a.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>Getting across I-91 is a milestone, and then there is a long, gradual approach to the next traprock ridges of Chauncey and Lamentation. Wilcox Park and beyond were peaceful and relatively quiet. There are some suburban street walks and meandering trails. And at some point the trail enters Guiffrida Park and the flanks of Chauncey. I passed a couple guys out for a walk who saw all my gear and asked if I was in training. Turns out a friend of theirs was in the process of section hiking the NET. That would not be the first time hearing about section hikers and backpackers. Something I never once ran into back in 2012. </div><div><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4K0x1kKLYj56yz0JdkT4BJAzKUHaEeTJ5nWQBiuuauupYy8TBTdPg3ajzrG7mt-WpZHFk2wCO0Pmr8kEqDaY-oLjWhUgiZvoTMg8pijGCE4FtTyMggzq0XdmQqeFbKip7MfPbrfazFt8/s1600/0512211057.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4K0x1kKLYj56yz0JdkT4BJAzKUHaEeTJ5nWQBiuuauupYy8TBTdPg3ajzrG7mt-WpZHFk2wCO0Pmr8kEqDaY-oLjWhUgiZvoTMg8pijGCE4FtTyMggzq0XdmQqeFbKip7MfPbrfazFt8/w400-h225/0512211057.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading up Chauncey in Meriden</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I'd heard about a lot of CFPA work on the trail at Chauncey, and that was evident as soon as the trail started to ascent the ridge. There were some nice switchbacks heading up the hill. This is a super popular spot, and too many feet going straight up the hill caused gulley's to form. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI4qiYFiOXTZF-ZhN30OzUYhk2o7d9CyaJEGIHL8puvQAQvp8gfYImZm3AiZQSB8F0A61bNgP_SsaWe6jQq7xGD_bW-Pe_3ythYpggY469Z6A1ODYirhaRLja57haOagCBfKi63UkItR4/s1600/0512211103a_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI4qiYFiOXTZF-ZhN30OzUYhk2o7d9CyaJEGIHL8puvQAQvp8gfYImZm3AiZQSB8F0A61bNgP_SsaWe6jQq7xGD_bW-Pe_3ythYpggY469Z6A1ODYirhaRLja57haOagCBfKi63UkItR4/w400-h225/0512211103a_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crescent Lake, heading up Chauncey</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I think of the Connecticut landscape as a working landscape. There are highways and quarries and railroad tracks and houses and factories and stores. Even the trap rock ridges are part of the working landscape, preserved in order to collect drinking water. Much further north, in New Hampshire, the working landscape included huge windmills and logging and miles of ATV roads, designed to bring in the tourist dollars. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSvfwZm4SZwwiQLFdM37q7sVJB6HFJxtm7ip_WX4Jo18pjNV-j9h2CF-djOejX9lt6Bjzo740_IG-m3JJ3ObdQMMVuFWG10_Rl6HeKArFmr_ThJbTVn65-fp0pT2sKWafh90vff54K1Dc/s1600/0512211113a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSvfwZm4SZwwiQLFdM37q7sVJB6HFJxtm7ip_WX4Jo18pjNV-j9h2CF-djOejX9lt6Bjzo740_IG-m3JJ3ObdQMMVuFWG10_Rl6HeKArFmr_ThJbTVn65-fp0pT2sKWafh90vff54K1Dc/w400-h225/0512211113a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Quarry, east side of Chauncey</td></tr></tbody></table><br />So I generally enjoy seeing quarries, but was alarmed at the quarry on Chaucey because it was eating into the trail and the ridge that is so iconic and popular for hiking. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB3UcvvcrYu2G1lAgvGx31YjRW1oACaMm-BQN4Ng7fTuWXc3VyMTijQgpzsmf2134lt4ibqbRn1O1K58hI5BnC-b0qFagtwd10VX0crNMeBxLzlIHzillUA1wEOKveoM4BwGFbjpO6rZw/s1600/0512211124.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB3UcvvcrYu2G1lAgvGx31YjRW1oACaMm-BQN4Ng7fTuWXc3VyMTijQgpzsmf2134lt4ibqbRn1O1K58hI5BnC-b0qFagtwd10VX0crNMeBxLzlIHzillUA1wEOKveoM4BwGFbjpO6rZw/w400-h225/0512211124.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from the south tip of Chauncey Peak</td></tr></tbody></table><br />There is no better scenic viewpoint along the NET than Chauncey. At the south end, I was able to see the long Metacomet Ridge to the east (Higby, Beseck, Trimountain); New Haven, Long Island, West Rock and Sleeping Giant to the south; and Lamentation to the west. Supurb! I took a nice long lunch here, the only person up on the peak that day. </div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXTCLhDIqxNNAPSxDxcTSYaOQVq0hU3aUf8ZitR_cs5hLLGhJu9tyjSdOxJbdJ6Bw4zjFiVRty0sTXkRakC81vhmqbKAXpDWdrhPtsdMbNouWPKVcwJZIiP96_2LnKS_KdnjGaU2y42iE/s1195/original_1c8445fd-08d3-42f8-934a-abcf1f60b959_0512211156d.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="620" data-original-width="1195" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXTCLhDIqxNNAPSxDxcTSYaOQVq0hU3aUf8ZitR_cs5hLLGhJu9tyjSdOxJbdJ6Bw4zjFiVRty0sTXkRakC81vhmqbKAXpDWdrhPtsdMbNouWPKVcwJZIiP96_2LnKS_KdnjGaU2y42iE/w400-h208/original_1c8445fd-08d3-42f8-934a-abcf1f60b959_0512211156d.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Black Rat Snake on Chauncey</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2z6tYZ34WCB2MGH-4GznCCMgdgM7cqS5j5MBCFyXKKCmi8e0VpBb-QYpVfW5iUTDUC9BMUqgEGJM6GvVMMSSJwLUoUaqTVRtrFMUtaW2GWTgxVtu_Cd7AvpNtMALRhnp7FWKthPaZDmA/s1600/0512211216a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2z6tYZ34WCB2MGH-4GznCCMgdgM7cqS5j5MBCFyXKKCmi8e0VpBb-QYpVfW5iUTDUC9BMUqgEGJM6GvVMMSSJwLUoUaqTVRtrFMUtaW2GWTgxVtu_Cd7AvpNtMALRhnp7FWKthPaZDmA/w400-h225/0512211216a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crescent Lake, Guiffrida Park</td></tr></tbody></table>After grabbing some water spilling off the Crescent Lake dam, I continue on through Guiffrida Park to climb Lamentation Mtn. There are great views of Meriden's Hanging Hills (Castle Craig, West Peak) from Lamentation, but those peaks would be for another trip. I savored the view for a spell. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-y2sppMLHyuXZWt47gxAe8E1SA7QPa9ZvN_G8kIrQQAaR-ttavCh9kA4mYaVghn8Ez0IA6mf1ofKzYWX8s-tmLg8yjPHGR6GXNcaQvwJ7UHalrXqiU5A4RrqFTtFNAXBwiVqtgIlcshU/s1600/0512211319a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-y2sppMLHyuXZWt47gxAe8E1SA7QPa9ZvN_G8kIrQQAaR-ttavCh9kA4mYaVghn8Ez0IA6mf1ofKzYWX8s-tmLg8yjPHGR6GXNcaQvwJ7UHalrXqiU5A4RrqFTtFNAXBwiVqtgIlcshU/w400-h225/0512211319a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from Lamentation in Meriden, Hanging Hills in the distance</td></tr></tbody></table><br />There's a new tenting area on Lamentation, and it looked like a nice spot on the ridge, but was planning on getting picked up by the end of the day and continued on. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha1ggc6KdlG4kH05xMCJ7efqb0iPHw8uSNCFG-ZKlfbToLMDNZNPNcZOwyC6fEZmDynPkY61tDZCYop9s46llTcpoktuiCDiVT_YbjuG9vVb5vr0HQ4HWI5J93a651q2FbrlYZYnVb2lo/s1600/0512211346a.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha1ggc6KdlG4kH05xMCJ7efqb0iPHw8uSNCFG-ZKlfbToLMDNZNPNcZOwyC6fEZmDynPkY61tDZCYop9s46llTcpoktuiCDiVT_YbjuG9vVb5vr0HQ4HWI5J93a651q2FbrlYZYnVb2lo/w400-h225/0512211346a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New tenting area on Lamentation</td></tr></tbody></table>Going down the north side of Lamentation is similar to heading down the north side of Higby in that it becomes a sprawling area for ATVs and few hikers. In general, the south ends of the ridges are more dramatic and that's where the popular parks and hiking trails are, while the north ends of the ridges descend quite gradually to old muddy roads and housing developments. This particular spot marked the end of the Mattabesett portion of the New England Trail. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihyphenhyphenLGN_OUdsBZZt-89Enoimm8Dua411yLD1RB8v4s3Nnug2mnZ97SfGyz4zkOAgvwABdQ-rL7ps1SlkVHF4jyMKu_Poy7zIbMTkMCb_32CprWs46xpiYnT50r9BvxKzfUMHfPXqtg2BLI/s1600/0512211508_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihyphenhyphenLGN_OUdsBZZt-89Enoimm8Dua411yLD1RB8v4s3Nnug2mnZ97SfGyz4zkOAgvwABdQ-rL7ps1SlkVHF4jyMKu_Poy7zIbMTkMCb_32CprWs46xpiYnT50r9BvxKzfUMHfPXqtg2BLI/w400-h225/0512211508_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Long suburban road walk in Berlin to get from <br />the Mattabesett Section to the Metacomet Section</td></tr></tbody></table><br />North of Lamentation was a very long road walk I ignored back in 2012, and with good reason. But if you're thru hiking, the road walk makes sense. Also, there was a convenience store with ice cream along Rt 5/15. I got through that road walk and eventually came to the beginning of the Metacomet section of the NET on some land trust property. I didn't get far up the trail before my ride appeared at Mile 51. Thus ended the first half of my thru hike. </div></div>Teresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04628471774296555013noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410961879681386812.post-81164562919268312452019-09-26T20:18:00.000-04:002019-10-13T08:49:30.938-04:00NH Cohos Trail: Fourth Connecticut Lake and Canadian Border<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh72yFTJf5FBfRf9IfGrySe-7Za5CxLu6AdYqOqrqvGyiBERzFM0qtAOS5ojuXR6GSw7hjzRmhkeqFbtwuK87XtsQ4-wG0os9sCvQIWCxThaRgeVCEfnsai9DsB_U9C1-hONcBc5082iVk/s1600/0926190542a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="850" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh72yFTJf5FBfRf9IfGrySe-7Za5CxLu6AdYqOqrqvGyiBERzFM0qtAOS5ojuXR6GSw7hjzRmhkeqFbtwuK87XtsQ4-wG0os9sCvQIWCxThaRgeVCEfnsai9DsB_U9C1-hONcBc5082iVk/s400/0926190542a.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Starting out by headlamp</td></tr>
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After seven years of sporadic section hiking up from Long Island Sound, today was the day I would finally reach the Canadian border and take a spin around the source of the Connecticut River. And the forecast was terrible. Showers in the morning and steady rain in the afternoon. It was pitch dark when I headed down Sophie's Lane, trying to cover some ground before the rains hit. The Milky Way had stretched across the sky above my tent, so the clouds hadn't moved in yet, which was encouraging.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2dTLKuSkkfqNJ1pQ7oBz0wPoGobXXQnR74dtlXAHquf3Z5cL7FZxfvdNnwPFcI7Hy3OARIDe6AYBvurWRwPDH0ynWuWTAuzpcCwR0IPvmymzfL_S3BjnuJEP4Ec5WJ6dDD8zgtDa5A3g/s1600/0926190633b_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2dTLKuSkkfqNJ1pQ7oBz0wPoGobXXQnR74dtlXAHquf3Z5cL7FZxfvdNnwPFcI7Hy3OARIDe6AYBvurWRwPDH0ynWuWTAuzpcCwR0IPvmymzfL_S3BjnuJEP4Ec5WJ6dDD8zgtDa5A3g/s400/0926190633b_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sophie's Lane at dawn</td></tr>
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The Cohos follows Sophies Lane, an old road and snowmobile trail, all the way to the border, so it was very easy going, even by headlamp. I kept my eye out for the eye-shine of moose or deer but didn't see anything.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrGeJHYTwGTwH_NXJ8MLvCsQIPo9rpaviwyk-BJ7dNEQkvJCQI1s7sNYf2Du9jlVBkKRRRs8L0Np6p_UBNK7MWqWMx9SYJVRVwWHO8tAtLe5CC3jkjeYeVeRG5R9amoiWwKNWi1W-N6aQ/s1600/0926190712_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrGeJHYTwGTwH_NXJ8MLvCsQIPo9rpaviwyk-BJ7dNEQkvJCQI1s7sNYf2Du9jlVBkKRRRs8L0Np6p_UBNK7MWqWMx9SYJVRVwWHO8tAtLe5CC3jkjeYeVeRG5R9amoiWwKNWi1W-N6aQ/s400/0926190712_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sophie's Lane. No rain yet.</td></tr>
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It was six miles to the border, much of it on gravel. As the sky lightened and the sun rose, the colorful leaves and dark green spires of spruce and balsam were revealed. Those last few miles were bittersweet. I was eager to get reach my goal but also sad the journey was about to end.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIfpwHfbwBNVWK1CqqwZrpF_tmhr5uJCYaCzvkaMbjWG-RPJPwQsSVEmPJPC_DTuIcAnVQkYMAdZ0ATdLQLI5JFILuvxSuX28zbLckKTKEkZmDee97Zj-YSG2bdgsOr60m9f19wR8mjfA/s1600/0926190642c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIfpwHfbwBNVWK1CqqwZrpF_tmhr5uJCYaCzvkaMbjWG-RPJPwQsSVEmPJPC_DTuIcAnVQkYMAdZ0ATdLQLI5JFILuvxSuX28zbLckKTKEkZmDee97Zj-YSG2bdgsOr60m9f19wR8mjfA/s400/0926190642c.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Willow Midge Galls that look like Rhododendron flower buds</td></tr>
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Eventually the gravel part ended and the lane continued on as a rough and often muddy snowmobile trail, and my pace slowed as I dodged the worst of the mud.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhOssR8rYqC3Dux8nZXrziRm-Sx9CRdLM0iHuJbx3nGfAUHDchkYS8do7ACXY1vrcrj2JCjaf0O8VaY_HOx-M_sxe0MPHfEUnayzPsMNDvpOgt7BNl5gTGkhV1d6TcNH6fWcghCiOEpKo/s1600/0926190754_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhOssR8rYqC3Dux8nZXrziRm-Sx9CRdLM0iHuJbx3nGfAUHDchkYS8do7ACXY1vrcrj2JCjaf0O8VaY_HOx-M_sxe0MPHfEUnayzPsMNDvpOgt7BNl5gTGkhV1d6TcNH6fWcghCiOEpKo/s400/0926190754_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sophie's Lane now just a rough snowmobile trail</td></tr>
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Still no rain when I reach the Third Connecticut Lake. Another day, another Connecticut Lake. This one was originally called St. Sophia and is 100 feet deep.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3J1zaoBT8qpcjG3UmJJtgMvKXakrQSXVCxhqEhDGbvZ9MnJne_6xJafvZ4s1thbITYNVR_NCnDy9RUROC3HHXmQZncWk5sqC-Op2Xo7wHxe4z34o95AowUQ6igmvO3PUzK4MKjT3F_fc/s1600/0926190800_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3J1zaoBT8qpcjG3UmJJtgMvKXakrQSXVCxhqEhDGbvZ9MnJne_6xJafvZ4s1thbITYNVR_NCnDy9RUROC3HHXmQZncWk5sqC-Op2Xo7wHxe4z34o95AowUQ6igmvO3PUzK4MKjT3F_fc/s400/0926190800_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Third Connecticut Lake</td></tr>
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After exploring the Third Lake, it wasn't very far to the Canadian border. There was a funny moment where I passed a sign demanding that people PROCEED SLOWLY, and I reflexively started walking more slowly. The sign is, of course, for snowmobilers.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Cfdo7TKQALlMWrRCbkiMCJZ9EmG-aYkt-ckDpojDexaPk3iTKvPrr2sbVU7cKR6YdQEwEr7ZYmfX07cH-2nmq1bzXKns_SxVSDoWBOYIcE2BwfY5SbCt5-pqHuZEPhsAq2OlSX242Uk/s1600/0926190823a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1075" data-original-width="1600" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Cfdo7TKQALlMWrRCbkiMCJZ9EmG-aYkt-ckDpojDexaPk3iTKvPrr2sbVU7cKR6YdQEwEr7ZYmfX07cH-2nmq1bzXKns_SxVSDoWBOYIcE2BwfY5SbCt5-pqHuZEPhsAq2OlSX242Uk/s400/0926190823a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting close!</td></tr>
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And there it was! The trail came out beside the U.S. border station, a rather cold and intimidating complex surrounded by chain link fencing, and took a sharp turn at a trail register and a sign for the Nature Conservancy's Fourth Connecticut Lake Trail.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7MS4eD_ERza9UvapAG5LQ26v3sT0i43Qc1EC4yJJ_dBNF5bDJWsoBeAtiPrffW7xRUr8MjtW9DjMQF_TSCI4gEnF84WBOkUzAZojSlW1bP9th2wxhy6WNX2EybP9ZX1kd5r6bE8GdFdY/s1600/0926190827_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7MS4eD_ERza9UvapAG5LQ26v3sT0i43Qc1EC4yJJ_dBNF5bDJWsoBeAtiPrffW7xRUr8MjtW9DjMQF_TSCI4gEnF84WBOkUzAZojSlW1bP9th2wxhy6WNX2EybP9ZX1kd5r6bE8GdFdY/s400/0926190827_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Border facility and Nature Conservancy traihead</td></tr>
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The Cohos follows this lollipop-loop trail up the hill right through the border clearing. It was pretty overgrown down at the bottom, and the tall vegetation was soaked, so I stopped to put on my rain pants prior to wading through it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Ldy0Ccv3dWOJ3J3FtA2d0FIW0LHLy_qIixd7H8gKRAARoxul7l0QuYsZVaHwHgnpsrv0sUIHX3figjx2D-vv5_od9oCXULWmxk2QuIssuHAFFMNwjSaLJidAkuHViLLmun3uWCGcGMI/s1600/0926190838.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Ldy0Ccv3dWOJ3J3FtA2d0FIW0LHLy_qIixd7H8gKRAARoxul7l0QuYsZVaHwHgnpsrv0sUIHX3figjx2D-vv5_od9oCXULWmxk2QuIssuHAFFMNwjSaLJidAkuHViLLmun3uWCGcGMI/s400/0926190838.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Following the border clearing</td></tr>
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The trail starts out pretty steeply and there was one ledge that was a bit of a challenge to get up with a full pack on, but the view was worth it. I was not expecting that. And it still wasn't raining! Luck was with me.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvubA7AiHzqPuGfrperotzGQdAQuvnRW-dv7wj_XF0XZfrwi2ouwsR6F0fW0as1DqbKYfYA5KUYKZjF6hXji9XbMJG7FZYPB5J7nB7jKfJgXdTLwvTLSTzvU7w77Y3lPv763m2L303gcw/s1600/0926190857_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvubA7AiHzqPuGfrperotzGQdAQuvnRW-dv7wj_XF0XZfrwi2ouwsR6F0fW0as1DqbKYfYA5KUYKZjF6hXji9XbMJG7FZYPB5J7nB7jKfJgXdTLwvTLSTzvU7w77Y3lPv763m2L303gcw/s400/0926190857_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Unexpectedly spectacular views going up the border hill</td></tr>
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This is one of the most interesting trails I've ever been on. The treadway meanders through the border clearing, sometimes in the U.S. and sometimes in Canada. Back and forth, back and forth. There are lots of survey markers along the way marking the border, with placards on nearby trees calling out the often hidden survey monuments.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMC5TndoHImHtGLFdMtNxqUDklU8vmVCaZ2R4BXGQRZLwjf57G-SWLyrlfD-wUGab9cPKC0tA8loTrbk1Cy5un3ASbtB126WoDXPk-wYy3bM1l16q9ARUMnY4xi1Oheb9b-fDVU4uwcsU/s1600/0926190908_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1409" data-original-width="1600" height="351" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMC5TndoHImHtGLFdMtNxqUDklU8vmVCaZ2R4BXGQRZLwjf57G-SWLyrlfD-wUGab9cPKC0tA8loTrbk1Cy5un3ASbtB126WoDXPk-wYy3bM1l16q9ARUMnY4xi1Oheb9b-fDVU4uwcsU/s400/0926190908_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">boundary marker</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
Once the border trail got through the thick vegetation and up the hill it was a breeze. The Verizon coverage map had suggested there might be a signal here, so I gave it a shot. And there was signal, though it was a roaming area. Amazingly, my husband had just texted that he was at the Brattleboro rest area at 8:55 am, only a few minutes ago. This was earlier than expected. I replied that I was almost to the Fourth Lake. He was still at the rest area and saw the text. Sometimes things just work out.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHvog2f3EoYvedCPks8HNn6ugxjG99l9YIStPU31SqryVfs51bRMdlvmVFn2gC19NVDi3D0NysUzYGR1_6LDV14_pVgTx6wMXQZQHAOsn_qEdos3gG_1gFFt_1jlKE05JKefYleRy9v4o/s1600/0926190900.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHvog2f3EoYvedCPks8HNn6ugxjG99l9YIStPU31SqryVfs51bRMdlvmVFn2gC19NVDi3D0NysUzYGR1_6LDV14_pVgTx6wMXQZQHAOsn_qEdos3gG_1gFFt_1jlKE05JKefYleRy9v4o/s400/0926190900.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't speak French, so I'll go with 'no trespassing'</td></tr>
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The Brattleboro rest area was about a four hour drive away, so I'd be getting picked up around 1:00 pm. The original pickup time was 2:30 pm, but my husband left early knowing I'd be waiting in the rain. Sweet. And he'd made it through I-91 rush hour traffic through Hartford and Springfield. So anyway, I had about four hours to kill. And it still wasn't raining. </div>
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The trail then turned off the border clearing and headed southwest down towards the Fourth Connecticut Lake. Since I would be mostly just hanging out and killing time from this point on, I used the occasion to getting into some warmer layers and full rain gear.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOQ0GnPm458BjbrO8LWr9jogy-gaOV37qdClrg0VDMgWgNZMUjOi9uEC5tcHS3KuN5zYQVcAmM-oW3iS1VzttebDK7U4lUumh5q3f3TORpGHU6Fn2ExFOZIX_GbLMiBctECck9-9EHLQo/s1600/0926190941a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOQ0GnPm458BjbrO8LWr9jogy-gaOV37qdClrg0VDMgWgNZMUjOi9uEC5tcHS3KuN5zYQVcAmM-oW3iS1VzttebDK7U4lUumh5q3f3TORpGHU6Fn2ExFOZIX_GbLMiBctECck9-9EHLQo/s400/0926190941a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First Connecticut Lake</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And there it was, the source of the Connecticut River. A far cry from Long Island Sound, where it empties out. It was so peaceful. Not a soul was out there.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8I2K9nkLRlyxut9d_NQEH8KifTcTMVEDrkYx4Be10ar31oJESaAEgg5kC7SjAQwLBbWySNjgzh2UVKu7ppWWtsCw9H0bEHSHk-w0s4fhUtkxwbgjzbj68rMLbRSipgu3iizhpXKeG-tM/s1600/0926190941c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8I2K9nkLRlyxut9d_NQEH8KifTcTMVEDrkYx4Be10ar31oJESaAEgg5kC7SjAQwLBbWySNjgzh2UVKu7ppWWtsCw9H0bEHSHk-w0s4fhUtkxwbgjzbj68rMLbRSipgu3iizhpXKeG-tM/s400/0926190941c.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First Connecticut Lake</td></tr>
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I somehow managed to spend a couple hours slowly circling the lake and exploring the trail. The trail was quite full of roots and there were a number of low areas with bog bridges and moose tracks. Mostly I remember the thick blanket of vivid green moss and creeping snowberry carpeting the ground under the spruce and fir.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTT9mipsBhoXeWxBOmmQ2-CvvapL4B2u3CPPc-FYnV6vlf5kTlHR9zQQLFoK8wevWjN3l1Zv8lPhwGnKqOCaHoP8vrXilFTKa1CCXApqIW8wHLtiCpC0l0H6Sp7SLC4vIPY1hQmJLGWcU/s1600/0926190959b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTT9mipsBhoXeWxBOmmQ2-CvvapL4B2u3CPPc-FYnV6vlf5kTlHR9zQQLFoK8wevWjN3l1Zv8lPhwGnKqOCaHoP8vrXilFTKa1CCXApqIW8wHLtiCpC0l0H6Sp7SLC4vIPY1hQmJLGWcU/s400/0926190959b.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The lake is surrounded by a carpet of moss and Creeping Snowberry</td></tr>
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There were several small streamlets flowing into the pond, but only one flowing out: The Connecticut River. It was barely flowing at all. I tried filling up my water bottle, but honestly the water looked pretty stagnate and I dumped it back out. I got water from one of the inlets instead.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHeEuKFdlOLfqZAdp7_xbfkTg5dP3M5b-vDxnHETyDC8Yx6aa9gq_L7f1O2fBBDqocQ2fIM14Vg0xTbybVL98WDZAxli7GspS3bc3Yk4i5QAglREn8H5zvsyZVi6ZbNTr8PAL2yc4K4mE/s1600/0926191026.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHeEuKFdlOLfqZAdp7_xbfkTg5dP3M5b-vDxnHETyDC8Yx6aa9gq_L7f1O2fBBDqocQ2fIM14Vg0xTbybVL98WDZAxli7GspS3bc3Yk4i5QAglREn8H5zvsyZVi6ZbNTr8PAL2yc4K4mE/s400/0926191026.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Connecticut River!</td></tr>
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Somewhere earlier in this journey I'd seen white berries that I later identified as Creeping Snowberry. It may have been up on Mt. Lafayette. After reading that you could eat them and they're minty, I had regretted not getting a chance to taste them. And here they were once again, so I popped one in my mouth and indeed, they are minty. I just had one and left the rest. Leave the berries to the animals.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcbr4FMVRltXtEmwKuaBJl154htpFFbuV2eNoc3sfpyW2B51oE3uZmWxRDGhGCBLOcX-9aQazk-sBoQ74GswICXUwi9uTRSq2EYELWAG93Q0FG1pRCl2Ss6FSPp_7IV8SPWKlYcxbmus8/s1600/0926191057b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcbr4FMVRltXtEmwKuaBJl154htpFFbuV2eNoc3sfpyW2B51oE3uZmWxRDGhGCBLOcX-9aQazk-sBoQ74GswICXUwi9uTRSq2EYELWAG93Q0FG1pRCl2Ss6FSPp_7IV8SPWKlYcxbmus8/s400/0926191057b.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Creeping Snowberry - Minty!</td></tr>
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Eventually I started back down towards the border station, going as slow as possible. Instead of the predicted rain, the sun came out and now I was sweating into my layers.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyp7pPBqU5y7d8IknMU8cpz7mcKXsghqfKhmm8tkUk0mrSQmdYvtsNKP0snbRAsbd2lt6Ev4N_H30hrqohYcbH3HwGePGXcXrlFYo7c140Lxe6tWTgR7WcQKD18J1arvxIGW74aQ3OlTk/s1600/0926191138_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyp7pPBqU5y7d8IknMU8cpz7mcKXsghqfKhmm8tkUk0mrSQmdYvtsNKP0snbRAsbd2lt6Ev4N_H30hrqohYcbH3HwGePGXcXrlFYo7c140Lxe6tWTgR7WcQKD18J1arvxIGW74aQ3OlTk/s400/0926191138_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading back down the border clearing</td></tr>
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Ah, but it was glorious. The official end of the Cohos is a tiny fenced area guarding a pair of monuments topped by the Canadian and U.S. flags. And the sun was out. What a perfect ending. It was noon and the predicted morning showers never happened. What a moment.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5DgGnpGJr3YDyhSuIklA9UiRuqCjxQZBPv9C7yWH2nbkS6Y7SYvIjdyxt787G7PI-wIPKPli8tFM5fWymuTlHPhQdmjy3drX8TcB4yQZp8frhlePzIF9A1endLKXyqILN8o0SMYtF-Ks/s1600/0926191154a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1086" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5DgGnpGJr3YDyhSuIklA9UiRuqCjxQZBPv9C7yWH2nbkS6Y7SYvIjdyxt787G7PI-wIPKPli8tFM5fWymuTlHPhQdmjy3drX8TcB4yQZp8frhlePzIF9A1endLKXyqILN8o0SMYtF-Ks/s400/0926191154a.jpg" width="271" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The end of the line</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So now it was just waiting for my ride. I got confused about where I was supposed to wait. There was a little gravel area next to the fenced monuments that looked like a parking area, so I thought that was the parking area for the Fourth Connecticut Lake Trail, but I wasn't sure. I thought of trying to ask someone inside, but I couldn't tell how to approach the border fortress. I thought about walking around it on the lawn but wasn't sure if that was allowed. So I just stayed where I was, sat down, and opened up the Kindle app on my phone to read a book. I was there for maybe half an hour when a guy from the U.S. border complex came out and told me to move. Actually, he first asked if I was OK, and if I was American or Canadian, and when I said I was American he took my word for it and directed me to walk on the lawn around the fenced facility to the designated parking area. Never asked to see my passport, which I'd kept handy just in case.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkPpJGhwH_CgmlylaS0N5fc4KEokArJ6kqz8ltBGsexXvZqs6v0oQXtBMEfX0N8NsGFcScRHg0D9s5hjcJA03F0JcViJepo24r_BtiwdVYJ8eRxsNYP7fJuPJJkJSsYni5bK1NiQOvx4U/s1600/0926191156a_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1109" data-original-width="1600" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkPpJGhwH_CgmlylaS0N5fc4KEokArJ6kqz8ltBGsexXvZqs6v0oQXtBMEfX0N8NsGFcScRHg0D9s5hjcJA03F0JcViJepo24r_BtiwdVYJ8eRxsNYP7fJuPJJkJSsYni5bK1NiQOvx4U/s400/0926191156a_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waiting in the wrong location for my ride. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
That made a lot more sense. The correct parking area is well signed for the Nature Conservancy Trail and a second sign directs hikers over the lawn to where I had been sitting, but none of that can be seen from the back side. <br />
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Meanwhile the sky had darkened and a cold wind had risen. It was getting really chilly. And then the promised rain finally hit. A cold, steady rain. That's OK. It held off in the morning so I couldn't complain. It got cold though, and the rain was pretty heavy, so eventually I started walking down Route 3 just to warm up. Happily, the misery was short-lived. My husband pulled up shortly and I jumped into a warm, dry car. And with that, we set off to retrieve my car at Dixville Notch and explore Pittsburg.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs5xdWa7N-8CGF4kJIWVthLc7I_3ITThesPZZXva683Dwc6i1yOTvo5pJDlgPZa1Vw9Uh2ATVBd7alk2S2LRsOrRlD6Ntel6vFVAe2mcosuvSSpp0VmbqYYsBSTBQb_63dr_DXzjpFxZw/s1600/IMG_9943.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="766" data-original-width="1600" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs5xdWa7N-8CGF4kJIWVthLc7I_3ITThesPZZXva683Dwc6i1yOTvo5pJDlgPZa1Vw9Uh2ATVBd7alk2S2LRsOrRlD6Ntel6vFVAe2mcosuvSSpp0VmbqYYsBSTBQb_63dr_DXzjpFxZw/s400/IMG_9943.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Metallak commemoration on the way back to Dixville Notch</td></tr>
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Teresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04628471774296555013noreply@blogger.com0Fourth Connecticut Lake, Pittsburg, NH 03592, USA45.2478536 -71.214055645.246456099999996 -71.2165771 45.2492511 -71.2115341tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410961879681386812.post-25030595218380986422019-09-25T20:19:00.000-04:002019-10-09T08:44:16.638-04:00NH Cohos Trail: Tillotson Hut to Deer Mountain Campground<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpOPj50qbkcfc7wgibZxVxLtG0EQW0aHr013qVeWVBcPtFKtOSJHq7sL1eld2j2xtooN0g71VUpyelpBKevrcn_tF-RtvjISYmM6yLQUTbWfLDJH9ASLG_tPZlrrhv_68noa_wC3XsVLQ/s1600/0925190637_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpOPj50qbkcfc7wgibZxVxLtG0EQW0aHr013qVeWVBcPtFKtOSJHq7sL1eld2j2xtooN0g71VUpyelpBKevrcn_tF-RtvjISYmM6yLQUTbWfLDJH9ASLG_tPZlrrhv_68noa_wC3XsVLQ/s400/0925190637_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Up early to find moose.</td></tr>
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This was the last full day of hiking before reaching the Canadian border and if I was going to see a moose it would be today in Moose Alley. The first sign of moose while heading north along the NET-Cohos route had been in Massachusetts in the Quabbin Reservoir area, and then there wasn't much heading north until the base of Mt. Sunapee in New Hampshire, where moose seem to own the trail and I'm pretty sure I heard one trotting and grunting down the trail past my tent that night. There were occasional signs of moose heading north from there until the Kilkenny, where moose seem to be everywhere. I'd probably seen thousands of moose tracks since the Kilkenny. But I wanted to see an actual moose while hiking in New England.<br />
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So today was the day and I set out early enough that I needed a headlamp at first even though it was already 6:30 am. It had rained overnight and there were dark clouds and drippy trees. Prime moose habitat was straight ahead on the other side of Route 3, a five minute walk from the hut. The moose hunt had begun. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">MOOSE!!!</td></tr>
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All the conditions were good. I was walking into the wind, it was very early, cool and wet. I tried to be as quiet as possible, setting aside the trekking poles and creeping up the trail slowly while scanning the surroundings like a hunter. I stopped to remove my rain pants, which were too noisy. About half an hour after crossing Route 3, I came around a curve and suddenly there was big bull moose down on his belly thirty feet from the trail. He lurched his considerable mass up to his feet, then just stood there looking at me. WOW. Just WOW. He then turned and began to walk away, very slowly at first, and somehow not making any sound. And just like that, he was gone. Wow.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bog bridge</td></tr>
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And with my successful moose sighting, I scampered on down the trail to the 800-ft bog bridge for which this part of the trail is named (Bog Bridge Trail). What a great day! Last full day on the NET-Cohos and I saw a moose. How perfect is that?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXXUYK4_1eZtmWVVHKiASvYK7xzfK_1S97pvg_L_F6uL6z7gfesXNBVJdDpnfWinWjmtIwJBlnnB_GPfsI6Ol6tTbLn-I43MAasOOncaBNqQ_gpsNuHcwi1_bO13OQAK1znQkTrXurfO8/s1600/0925190722a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1042" data-original-width="1600" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXXUYK4_1eZtmWVVHKiASvYK7xzfK_1S97pvg_L_F6uL6z7gfesXNBVJdDpnfWinWjmtIwJBlnnB_GPfsI6Ol6tTbLn-I43MAasOOncaBNqQ_gpsNuHcwi1_bO13OQAK1znQkTrXurfO8/s400/0925190722a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bunchberry in moss</td></tr>
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The bridge was super slick and treacherous and even though I was taking cautious baby steps, I still slipped and fell on a section that had broken and tilted slightly. My trekking pole jammed deep into the bog and came out decidedly bent. It's still bent. Chicken wire would be helpful here. But it didn't matter, because I saw a moose.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Joseph is 92 and caught a 4 lb salmon in the CT River that morning</td></tr>
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The trail crossed Magalloway Road near a bridge over the Connecticut River, and there I met Joseph waiting for his son, who was nearby fishing in First Connecticut Lake. Joseph said he was 92 and had caught a four pound salmon just that morning there in the Connecticut River. Catch and release. An SUV with a couple of sightseers stopped in the middle of the bridge to chat, which somehow didn't seem odd. They were driving around, thought maybe they'd see a moose. Joseph recommended they keep driving up the hill to a lookout on the hill with great views.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicsEnffLfDP3XnQsHTAQuZLs1cBGIqJ8HPKxL3-oXb3S_sAb6KMIwNr-xsl7oUojmPLS9-peem0Cl_4E8noUJbfK62LtVB5AgGcoRDI2ER9Kj40uohbmd0AGUJa3f1oq1km_5vh7SIUc8/s1600/0925190807.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicsEnffLfDP3XnQsHTAQuZLs1cBGIqJ8HPKxL3-oXb3S_sAb6KMIwNr-xsl7oUojmPLS9-peem0Cl_4E8noUJbfK62LtVB5AgGcoRDI2ER9Kj40uohbmd0AGUJa3f1oq1km_5vh7SIUc8/s400/0925190807.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Still happy about seeing a moose</td></tr>
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Moose Alley Trail was the next part of the Cohos and it lived up to its name. I didn't see another moose, but I did hear one. I was signing into the trail register when I heard what I thought at first was maybe voices off in the distance until I walked over the rise for a better listen. The sound was drifting up the hill from the low boggy area down below and no, that wasn't a person, it was a moose. What a weird sound. Kind of a sporadic moaning. I hung out for a good twenty minutes just listening.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtOb4zYqtUzYtVMtQqAR2EtXcMKiFzP8mumE8YKMgVoKk8745gzJiqjmBAso8Wo3jaoxw_hi7RCSPc7H5_Yf_QNoQmzqbygXE48VfPmK79DtlF7UYqaH4uq8yfCwnvB2IL0VcuDCBAECc/s1600/0925190842.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="901" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtOb4zYqtUzYtVMtQqAR2EtXcMKiFzP8mumE8YKMgVoKk8745gzJiqjmBAso8Wo3jaoxw_hi7RCSPc7H5_Yf_QNoQmzqbygXE48VfPmK79DtlF7UYqaH4uq8yfCwnvB2IL0VcuDCBAECc/s400/0925190842.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heard a moose calling while signing in</td></tr>
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This was, of course, great moose habitat, and that included vast areas that had been logged, full of brush and young trees on which the moose could nibble. Must be tough keeping these sections of the trail clear, but someone was doing a great job.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBQA8mzWPvq-5VPYzBpMs1xGIYaoqHNiVilBgxZFB6HupDwCndcY854p0nF7E3wiXb54GfQZPr12eMYmYs0TCUgFl-SxJmaAbtKqEWS6OZ52gRDKysFAgBcSa6UaWZKgnkvRAW76VIS0w/s1600/0925190856_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBQA8mzWPvq-5VPYzBpMs1xGIYaoqHNiVilBgxZFB6HupDwCndcY854p0nF7E3wiXb54GfQZPr12eMYmYs0TCUgFl-SxJmaAbtKqEWS6OZ52gRDKysFAgBcSa6UaWZKgnkvRAW76VIS0w/s400/0925190856_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This feels like a Christmas Tree farm</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhskp0GHgUSS3bj6soWruUTur9lh-3gVNLfBotJChlkohEB_T95h-I-tk3Ldw6FjGJRV9W42Cs-ed8Qk0x-FXv69-JDZhQd4CyqIx0_1Mdfy3emaC_w5c64Cc0nFthFVbIWgh2qzDI1WTU/s1600/0925190901_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhskp0GHgUSS3bj6soWruUTur9lh-3gVNLfBotJChlkohEB_T95h-I-tk3Ldw6FjGJRV9W42Cs-ed8Qk0x-FXv69-JDZhQd4CyqIx0_1Mdfy3emaC_w5c64Cc0nFthFVbIWgh2qzDI1WTU/s400/0925190901_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lots of recent tree clearing</td></tr>
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After that excitement, the Cohos joined the Falls in the River Trail and started following the banks of the Connecticut River, which was roaring down below. This day just kept getting better.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHsGIzyEE2nbyExQV-CyqqBmP9FxVRSnUgccH6HbynqV-a17tLZfiBkNAKjRr6OxuwfIQlcXSWcP_yjOLxxg1N92B2h8UvLjMC4suJ5uAWe6_88-BTre0hyphenhyphenYLQLYzOf1rkkTwJjUu4Eyk/s1600/0925190933.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHsGIzyEE2nbyExQV-CyqqBmP9FxVRSnUgccH6HbynqV-a17tLZfiBkNAKjRr6OxuwfIQlcXSWcP_yjOLxxg1N92B2h8UvLjMC4suJ5uAWe6_88-BTre0hyphenhyphenYLQLYzOf1rkkTwJjUu4Eyk/s400/0925190933.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Cohos runs above the roaring Connecticut River</td></tr>
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The falls were gorgeous, especially with the changing leaves. Great place to hang out and take a break. This was an obvious day-hike destination.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMuGqenYRAe__-IcE7Pqx-muHMZgYHVAInEemSG-Yhbk-SI-mSeDGqg7DJUztO_P_JLJ2oTKNmOBW0ha6TN97FaA_tUFMZ4RzRhRlFebX74KIQ9tky3a8WFwpWWqZItWvINk0uZ97xw-E/s1600/0925190955.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMuGqenYRAe__-IcE7Pqx-muHMZgYHVAInEemSG-Yhbk-SI-mSeDGqg7DJUztO_P_JLJ2oTKNmOBW0ha6TN97FaA_tUFMZ4RzRhRlFebX74KIQ9tky3a8WFwpWWqZItWvINk0uZ97xw-E/s400/0925190955.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Falls on the Connecticut River</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9JwNhLOKBJLN_KswJobOiX76LGVinMqYYv5-ZR3jhtOYHaZ_rqS820WT-F-DBvYcb4Tz3zKHBPqcQ-sUl9eKVbUMMJeIdXxtwVVf9LxCtFucra32Q-caEKUkKKRDvbMObBhoLGznwBQs/s1600/0925190955a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9JwNhLOKBJLN_KswJobOiX76LGVinMqYYv5-ZR3jhtOYHaZ_rqS820WT-F-DBvYcb4Tz3zKHBPqcQ-sUl9eKVbUMMJeIdXxtwVVf9LxCtFucra32Q-caEKUkKKRDvbMObBhoLGznwBQs/s400/0925190955a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Falls on the Connecticut River</td></tr>
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Further upriver, the river calmed a bit but was still flowing strong. The trail stayed close to the river for a long ways, with some overlooks.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpUkmsHlTAfhjtX7kIDUjtHJckYofLzDbdLNPpSKwQGzKDJxq74GMbBDcnJD-ilYQho5JIs-Gq7w-SX8Zvcgr_Z_FLZqAJrMpApaGKAixRmf2vtJY_3BU4_pHe9xs-sE27BUpMtZr8KPc/s1600/0925191013a_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpUkmsHlTAfhjtX7kIDUjtHJckYofLzDbdLNPpSKwQGzKDJxq74GMbBDcnJD-ilYQho5JIs-Gq7w-SX8Zvcgr_Z_FLZqAJrMpApaGKAixRmf2vtJY_3BU4_pHe9xs-sE27BUpMtZr8KPc/s400/0925191013a_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Connecticut River</td></tr>
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And another treat: Second Connecticut Lake. The trail popped out at the dam on Route 3. How will I ever get to my destination if I have to keep stopping to enjoy these beautiful sites?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsUhJTSbruwhvVukPeLMLWCPC5xB3O_JlMJCGj_JCY0E4kyc-McjWkOV0D8OYCzKAq5khRGBuUX4Bf362qrngoelwk_GNAVqNV-MPOekiD2ECANYWM1E1FNgRurb7I18xWuN8cTfFe2Vo/s1600/0925191044_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsUhJTSbruwhvVukPeLMLWCPC5xB3O_JlMJCGj_JCY0E4kyc-McjWkOV0D8OYCzKAq5khRGBuUX4Bf362qrngoelwk_GNAVqNV-MPOekiD2ECANYWM1E1FNgRurb7I18xWuN8cTfFe2Vo/s400/0925191044_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another day, another Connecticut Lake</td></tr>
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The water level in the reservoir was low, so I was able to walk way out to the outlet of sort, which is the Connecticut River. This is before the dam, so when the water is higher it must be invisible, under the reservoir. And the channel must be really deep, because it didn't seem big enough for all that water that was roaring down below the dam.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx961yMlpMxuzuCJbpme9tdRy16ixdkZdz_xdRhe5wQV7cshMgQusN42k8PH6xX00OxWZ-CXjmXqFoRGQRt8vFCrBfsmRT4EvMov7medfnECJyiaBaMChO8H2SQKr57K6DnlpLAeN_mZA/s1600/0925191050_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx961yMlpMxuzuCJbpme9tdRy16ixdkZdz_xdRhe5wQV7cshMgQusN42k8PH6xX00OxWZ-CXjmXqFoRGQRt8vFCrBfsmRT4EvMov7medfnECJyiaBaMChO8H2SQKr57K6DnlpLAeN_mZA/s400/0925191050_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Second Connecticut Lake outlet (Connecticut River)</td></tr>
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What was the purpose of the dam? Didn't seem to be hydropower. The Internet says the Connecticut Lakes were created back in the 1800s for logging drives. Imagine this lake full of logs in the spring.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinKdRNWWzqcIFZ9MpjsbIqVf76G4S2v30yV6wulgLyVY1hv7guwOVhc8FOebqQFiYUY5eF0a-WFzZbeerPBJPieK6I7SDOPu9TWPeN2NUG2YUV4ty_8o9QZQQCFj0Ooj9m-pm2ykSAtJE/s1600/0925191114_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinKdRNWWzqcIFZ9MpjsbIqVf76G4S2v30yV6wulgLyVY1hv7guwOVhc8FOebqQFiYUY5eF0a-WFzZbeerPBJPieK6I7SDOPu9TWPeN2NUG2YUV4ty_8o9QZQQCFj0Ooj9m-pm2ykSAtJE/s400/0925191114_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wild Raisin at the 2nd Connecticut Lake dam</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After the dam, the Cohos closely paralleled Route 3 for a spell (there was very little traffic) and then crossed for the last time and became Lower, Middle, and finally Upper Black Cat Trails. What's the story with the black cat?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjW1ukgL3wfm6OsetjglAiB4SsrLm1d8nDqstN9UWZD59nzldIiEGAquoC2P0md-aDQi_rQTVHCOLBFT5GPuEB5BXsNscPDdxmdFJIwqI4q_0tZ2i6Ahof8hbT5m-x7zYi0hMLD89Ub9A/s1600/0925191151.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="987" data-original-width="1600" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjW1ukgL3wfm6OsetjglAiB4SsrLm1d8nDqstN9UWZD59nzldIiEGAquoC2P0md-aDQi_rQTVHCOLBFT5GPuEB5BXsNscPDdxmdFJIwqI4q_0tZ2i6Ahof8hbT5m-x7zYi0hMLD89Ub9A/s400/0925191151.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fern Moss next to a Christmas Fern</td></tr>
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Though not as exciting as the first part of the day, the Black Cat sections were enjoyable and easy enough to follow. The miles melted away.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHgEJ5MB7zMh00-d7uPyGbv16tfdtsdnRS-p-zk_isQqNUJHYCaO3KjEacRnufmcnkcgKIRb4OQU82G1VhTs5QftRJFInLQS6zOrZSHfCnIfDg00okM3RpYBNYR4UeMybYXAueAZXltmc/s1600/0925191153a_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHgEJ5MB7zMh00-d7uPyGbv16tfdtsdnRS-p-zk_isQqNUJHYCaO3KjEacRnufmcnkcgKIRb4OQU82G1VhTs5QftRJFInLQS6zOrZSHfCnIfDg00okM3RpYBNYR4UeMybYXAueAZXltmc/s400/0925191153a_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">U.S. Route 3 is strangely deserted this far north.</td></tr>
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At one point the trail cross a ribbon of dead limbs going down the hill unlike anything I'd ever seen. It looked like there had been an avalanche of dead trees. I decided it must have been a logging road stabilized with slash. That's the only thing I can figure. The slash was several feet deep.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfP420T70ileFpsjvKCuxso5NOJoGJppomZN_hFOsG-jxEjmVZc8BkH7PF2NxwwRl04nuKA1l4Hl_JLcOZF2M-gys4CNolZHWHRVmU3KLzUT_axYTs6DDaHdb_Lp1NCheB4vjVHvOoA3Y/s1600/0925191248a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfP420T70ileFpsjvKCuxso5NOJoGJppomZN_hFOsG-jxEjmVZc8BkH7PF2NxwwRl04nuKA1l4Hl_JLcOZF2M-gys4CNolZHWHRVmU3KLzUT_axYTs6DDaHdb_Lp1NCheB4vjVHvOoA3Y/s400/0925191248a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A river of logging slash? </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Lower Black Cat had the last of the cell phone coverage until some possible coverage at the top of the Fourth Lake, so I had been checking the weather forecast. It was not good. The next day would have morning showers switching to steady rain in the afternoon. It was a real disappointment for the last day of the hike when I'd finally reach the Canadian border, and I wouldn't be able to take any photos with my touch-screen phone in the rain. I decided I'd start hiking as early as possible and try to get to the Fourth Lake before the heavy rains hit. My husband was planning to pick me up at 2:30 pm after a six or seven hour drive from Connecticut, but I needed to get out earlier and would just have to wait in the rain. I texted my intentions and said that if was raining really hard, I'd probably walk down Route 3 back to the Deer Mountain Campground and try to take shelter there. And then I slipped into the no-phone zone.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizXrYu7N8nguBUSEXnSEObOZZZ2iEp8thH6X6GcpUw1pYwDlbOqTVIdTqsSFmKwanrJXhyphenhyphenuQXU5UUHqyGKB42GydrdNt5MCMJuAuVexc-EWgShm5TOH3ubs5bsGtkucp9YqlHpfB_tQZo/s1600/0925191309.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="901" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizXrYu7N8nguBUSEXnSEObOZZZ2iEp8thH6X6GcpUw1pYwDlbOqTVIdTqsSFmKwanrJXhyphenhyphenuQXU5UUHqyGKB42GydrdNt5MCMJuAuVexc-EWgShm5TOH3ubs5bsGtkucp9YqlHpfB_tQZo/s400/0925191309.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beaver stump</td></tr>
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Approaching the campground, the Cohos came to the junction with Sophie's Lane and there was a big map kiosk. I studied the map and learned that Sophie's Lane started out as a gravel road and was a snowmobile route all the way to the border. So I could start walking this in the dark and it would go fast. Good to know.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif0v9ZyxJlgz1tfKqdoaLeeWxHGsmQJcjUpVaGyyOpxa1eL1lDz2p8ImSIos2EqETE19V-t66lgBECue06OVLzNAwMXUI_sdA2CGYKInePK12JZkH1ZwTCH6aqNqhyphenhyphen2mohwcVt3Ot-pz0/s1600/0925191346a_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif0v9ZyxJlgz1tfKqdoaLeeWxHGsmQJcjUpVaGyyOpxa1eL1lDz2p8ImSIos2EqETE19V-t66lgBECue06OVLzNAwMXUI_sdA2CGYKInePK12JZkH1ZwTCH6aqNqhyphenhyphen2mohwcVt3Ot-pz0/s400/0925191346a_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Junction with Sophie's Lane</td></tr>
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To get to the Deer Mountain Campground, you turn off the Cohos a short ways, coming out onto Route 3 once again, and crossing the shrinking Connecticut River.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgbQKlHswRp_nK5m0w8hDnegmwnvmLDuIMVybS-ZEv0XixUdLnea9fG_JoQyo4ADEGwbIN3D2-mfjOQFeSa4q06QE6YUi13C9FQ5zfT0cKM2DaBNUbqP-SZLS1YyJ7ZY5Vl2iAtt-G_DI/s1600/0925191351.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="901" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgbQKlHswRp_nK5m0w8hDnegmwnvmLDuIMVybS-ZEv0XixUdLnea9fG_JoQyo4ADEGwbIN3D2-mfjOQFeSa4q06QE6YUi13C9FQ5zfT0cKM2DaBNUbqP-SZLS1YyJ7ZY5Vl2iAtt-G_DI/s400/0925191351.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Connecticut River, getting smaller</td></tr>
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Route 3 was ridiculously quiet. Five minutes could go by without a single car passing. It was weird.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnVEA-a4V-2ZzzBvQA2BMQK4hXNrbauCtBb591EgPifeNIgctcKmOFZetGegLmKOlT8-LppisXIIP2Wlx7L8Ro7l06Y5UvvBSgcsMt7XyLg4pLkC4FGGcmfUAaCvTZ4Ms-O071uBbDiS0/s1600/0925191534_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnVEA-a4V-2ZzzBvQA2BMQK4hXNrbauCtBb591EgPifeNIgctcKmOFZetGegLmKOlT8-LppisXIIP2Wlx7L8Ro7l06Y5UvvBSgcsMt7XyLg4pLkC4FGGcmfUAaCvTZ4Ms-O071uBbDiS0/s400/0925191534_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Deer Mountain Campground entrance, Route 3</td></tr>
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The campground is run by the state and for some reason I thought it would be like the campground at Coleman State Park, with a bathhouse and showers. Nope. There are outhouses. For water, there was a spring out by Route 3, and when I turned the faucet, a trickle of water came out, but after getting half a liter, the water stopped. I finally just got water out of the river.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOvjQKFNE9h9TcnoIW2m9dw1jCVxuRCiNfLBFjjoda7aaPcFg5tq0OPZj5JUPdUZpWuG3TGDqj0p9UpksGPQtylsZ9iuO0ra0kmwcCu7mlGQxNNT8kfyphG5MyPzeA-pbUZcUIfgU9mPA/s1600/0925191534.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOvjQKFNE9h9TcnoIW2m9dw1jCVxuRCiNfLBFjjoda7aaPcFg5tq0OPZj5JUPdUZpWuG3TGDqj0p9UpksGPQtylsZ9iuO0ra0kmwcCu7mlGQxNNT8kfyphG5MyPzeA-pbUZcUIfgU9mPA/s400/0925191534.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Campground spring barely trickled</td></tr>
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Not many people were in the campground on a Thursday night. I selected a private site (#26) on the shore of the Connecticut River, which was a narrow, quiet stream at this point. After setting up on the big wooden platform in sporadic showers (next time I must buy a complete free-standing tent), I set out to explore.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOVdUVOxMba4gwE-kwCkfShgrXJPzjWBTKU9njJE1miuLNZi86tJLBCg4WkNA96_vO0o1Htnn6NZx0pZkJOfJ6GD-7p9QxxZngEMLe8SAga3bzW4YQgqIluTCujYuoNEpR_ur_hFvnVV4/s1600/0925191538.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOVdUVOxMba4gwE-kwCkfShgrXJPzjWBTKU9njJE1miuLNZi86tJLBCg4WkNA96_vO0o1Htnn6NZx0pZkJOfJ6GD-7p9QxxZngEMLe8SAga3bzW4YQgqIluTCujYuoNEpR_ur_hFvnVV4/s400/0925191538.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tent platform alongside the Connecticut River</td></tr>
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I took a trail to a reservoir labeled "Moose Falls Flowage" on the campground map. Tent site #28 was located there, but was taken. What a tent site. They had the pond all to themselves.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjyjVtv4gVO67lcjE0t80Iq8EuoZtJaU5Jf9nh0UI6GkhCwUgeidohzkcy5mqLzgXXYYcJyvwcWHg8kKAOmlit1wHq_YC8eIhko5QDHj87vVMzwaRb7OeMCChynOajDgdu_0N5KoF8Nck/s1600/0925191559_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="973" data-original-width="1600" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjyjVtv4gVO67lcjE0t80Iq8EuoZtJaU5Jf9nh0UI6GkhCwUgeidohzkcy5mqLzgXXYYcJyvwcWHg8kKAOmlit1wHq_YC8eIhko5QDHj87vVMzwaRb7OeMCChynOajDgdu_0N5KoF8Nck/s400/0925191559_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They have one amazing tent site at the far north end of the pond</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Sophies Lane, and the Cohos Trail, were on the other side of the dam, but I wasn't going to see this the next morning in the dark.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY7iDcn4dQKF8dio5XDfxRe2MjPxAoVGhuEXZ3P-rSA-dhWxwiuGntr5bh-y3mR9dYafK-99qRpTiflT0Nof4emipYEx1GR6t_QRLIlbI9fERu0eZ3UwZGujO08PmRMIZjaDDtvvo1gJM/s1600/0925191601_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY7iDcn4dQKF8dio5XDfxRe2MjPxAoVGhuEXZ3P-rSA-dhWxwiuGntr5bh-y3mR9dYafK-99qRpTiflT0Nof4emipYEx1GR6t_QRLIlbI9fERu0eZ3UwZGujO08PmRMIZjaDDtvvo1gJM/s400/0925191601_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moose Falls Flowage (Connecticut River)</td></tr>
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And that was it for the day. Early to bed, the next morning would be an early one. Sadly, some camper came back obviously very drunk and started belting out songs as loud as he could possibly sing. It went on and on. I put in my ear plugs and donned my sleep phones, turned on the sound of a fan, and the drunk guy was history.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-LjR7a3O-FDENr06Z1FUE-qmISwX6w-trB-zN7y7ndhC4gvhQDRaeAguBfQ-HynbpvaJyyWxuF8gTOV0ZfDN-TNv6cxme_coJ8SKt2tqKSej6Tza0dIT1HfjO9dVebXmVW5UyDGiTo1M/s1600/0925191858a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-LjR7a3O-FDENr06Z1FUE-qmISwX6w-trB-zN7y7ndhC4gvhQDRaeAguBfQ-HynbpvaJyyWxuF8gTOV0ZfDN-TNv6cxme_coJ8SKt2tqKSej6Tza0dIT1HfjO9dVebXmVW5UyDGiTo1M/s400/0925191858a.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Last night ever on the NET-Cohos</td></tr>
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Teresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04628471774296555013noreply@blogger.com0Unnamed Road, Jackman, ME 04945, USA45.422399587462763 -70.48865900372726445.161064087462762 -71.147838503727257 45.683735087462765 -69.829479503727271tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410961879681386812.post-30102590134997333812019-09-24T20:58:00.000-04:002019-10-07T18:33:08.571-04:00NH Cohos Trail: Happy Corner to Tillotson Hut<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSE4ly9gQIH6EQhe4zT6x9GhnCcQ1qS_wbfEaVDv8IxwqIp2uCXvtwocT8W0n77AAP8AJndJeFDu28zzl8HUn0S71tghDpHNKlyjj_UealZkvM1bq2yf5cdz2ZJ1DzX8wWsPFfVEVPCf8/s1600/0924190725_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSE4ly9gQIH6EQhe4zT6x9GhnCcQ1qS_wbfEaVDv8IxwqIp2uCXvtwocT8W0n77AAP8AJndJeFDu28zzl8HUn0S71tghDpHNKlyjj_UealZkvM1bq2yf5cdz2ZJ1DzX8wWsPFfVEVPCf8/s400/0924190725_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Took a wrong turn... but the view was great!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Day four of my final trip was a day of wrong turns. I took more wrong turns and had more trouble finding the trail in this section than the entire rest of the trail combined, by far. I started well enough from the campground by finding a shortcut out to Danforth Road rather than walking all the way down the hill and then back up again. So far so good. But soon there was a road veering off to the right, and intuitively that felt like the correct way to go. But before going that way, I checked the trail map, which indicated the trail followed Danforth Road. The street sign said the right option was Kingfield Road, so I passed it by and kept going straight up and up and up the hill. At the top, I stopped to enjoy the view and check the gps track on Maps.ME. Good thing I did. I was WAY off course. It had to be that road junction where I went wrong.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOa7FEJriHERX49vLS5Qg7MP1cbT5AoL9BeelexDdc32BkZI42KOfkTWuX4PwAJOieyt8EulVRnFutb4FPPus1JrsAJakYh4m-LOyn9ocWu4T5dXiU8WOv3XjcBpLejMCvF-wayQW1uXg/s1600/Capture%252B_2019-09-24-07-27-24+%25282%2529.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="972" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOa7FEJriHERX49vLS5Qg7MP1cbT5AoL9BeelexDdc32BkZI42KOfkTWuX4PwAJOieyt8EulVRnFutb4FPPus1JrsAJakYh4m-LOyn9ocWu4T5dXiU8WOv3XjcBpLejMCvF-wayQW1uXg/s400/Capture%252B_2019-09-24-07-27-24+%25282%2529.png" width="242" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Screenshot: Not where I thought I was</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So I went back down, and yes, that street sign definitely said "Kingfield Road" and it was oriented parallel with what the trail map said was Danforth Road. Huh. Unless the street sign was hit and twisted by a car? Or maybe they mark their streets differently here? And Kingfield Road was the name of the road on the left, the one I took by mistake, so why did Maps.ME call it Coville Road? I continued on to the next road junction, which a street sign said was Coville Road. What the what? Later I checked Google Maps, and their road names matched the street signs, but Maps.ME was way wrong. At any rate, this would be a good road junction to throw up a blaze, since the street sign is confusing and at least one map application is wildly inaccurate.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRUYL2S9sREmTBvU3HSA1qGAFSkC0V2Qu_NIRMbaR0jMoEzOgefJnBy-afHGYPcmexGRfHkaR3hLAhOUuZLq5z9bteCOtPPUafcr_CLo_R31ijK7qt0XxN90EdbCC0dwbTEJDa-NlgK-Q/s1600/0924190735_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRUYL2S9sREmTBvU3HSA1qGAFSkC0V2Qu_NIRMbaR0jMoEzOgefJnBy-afHGYPcmexGRfHkaR3hLAhOUuZLq5z9bteCOtPPUafcr_CLo_R31ijK7qt0XxN90EdbCC0dwbTEJDa-NlgK-Q/s400/0924190735_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Confusing road sign</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The rest of the way up to the summit of Prospect Mountain was OK and there was a great view of First Connecticut Lake down below. Another day, another lake. Nice.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY7812xmgxGgSud7Utjim8I9tlCmj3KuHKybwM5Jpvmt-17ya-wZ5Nb5LVRi_1YnqwKCjF7sbwmaNt2M6jWQK87ZY8TLfzwEkQ2QBs-ohhD04z7q1uNSX9zo5mM0mcO0zd7hPJ6NmOGfw/s1600/0924190821a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY7812xmgxGgSud7Utjim8I9tlCmj3KuHKybwM5Jpvmt-17ya-wZ5Nb5LVRi_1YnqwKCjF7sbwmaNt2M6jWQK87ZY8TLfzwEkQ2QBs-ohhD04z7q1uNSX9zo5mM0mcO0zd7hPJ6NmOGfw/s400/0924190821a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First Connecticut Lake from Prospect Mountain</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It was spotty showers again for the day, after a rain the night before. Annoying in some respects, and a bit depressing, but fall colors can be richer with cloud cover. And the low clouds were moody over the lake. At the overlook were some Lady's Tresses were in bloom. These are orchids and I wouldn't expect to see something like that at the end of September with the changing leaves.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmz0hS7X5ScEe2hXvCuEU7hqdBuzjOdrzvtSVJtduxFCeLgg2XXC5thyFsETG8UZ4ZAzvpIKIA4ScsPFNy_xJRApEw0ozxn4z78GWTuAiIesjAzF2Opik8kV6LBkH4QibDBl2gcP8J4Vs/s1600/0924190828.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="901" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmz0hS7X5ScEe2hXvCuEU7hqdBuzjOdrzvtSVJtduxFCeLgg2XXC5thyFsETG8UZ4ZAzvpIKIA4ScsPFNy_xJRApEw0ozxn4z78GWTuAiIesjAzF2Opik8kV6LBkH4QibDBl2gcP8J4Vs/s400/0924190828.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ladies Tresses at the overlook</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The trail between Prospect Mountain and Covell Mountain is called Ramblewood Link Trail, and that was a real challenge to follow. The woods were pretty open, more like Connecticut, and the trail seemed to be trying to make its way around private lands through some terrain that was pretty lumpy at times. The trail was blazed throughout, but there were several spots where the trail suddenly turned and there was just nothing indicating which way you should go. I often referred to the gps track on my phone, but that didn't always help. </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN3LMNY4nJl_3qbxC-_MAdvAITSIUEvd92mxePFItZ6WZ0Aj2YsfE-FK1jGE6Tl5LfUO-zER7vN2sm2QRC-JjDZ8ZJKKHIro_NSS99CiRjvsU0yDvt-KU1TQvTHih0Ezp5oDyZci1uNsU/s1600/0924190844.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN3LMNY4nJl_3qbxC-_MAdvAITSIUEvd92mxePFItZ6WZ0Aj2YsfE-FK1jGE6Tl5LfUO-zER7vN2sm2QRC-JjDZ8ZJKKHIro_NSS99CiRjvsU0yDvt-KU1TQvTHih0Ezp5oDyZci1uNsU/s400/0924190844.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Go left then right? Long curve to the right? Beware of boomerang?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
There doesn't seem to be a trail-wide standard for blazing, so the turn indicators are inconsistent. I found this to be true of the Monadnock-Sunapee Greenway as well. They do not use the offset double blazes I'm so used to in Connecticut on the Blue-Blazed system. Those can be admittedly confusing when you first see them, but after a couple turns it's easy to catch on, and every turn of the 800-mile system is marked in this way. Trail Managers in Connecticut have to take an orientation class and are taught how to do the blazes so everything is consistent. Here, it seems like blazers are free to use whatever they feel makes sense as long as it's the right color. A lot of turn blazes along the Cohos are like an upside down "L", and this is pretty intuitive and works for me. And most of the terrain is super thick, so it's hard to meander off the path in most areas.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL7WWHdQN0tpOK1k930-w4mySnRNVPS370UAkIjGLctQHGVNl5sIlVNRJQGzGNb0cLjHNlu8YTbM6Sj21f5lVfSTo7I96To9opmy0QweiSq-hHX0qYqMVmb7xbPLwDP94w5uq8Pr-0qgg/s1600/0924190918a_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL7WWHdQN0tpOK1k930-w4mySnRNVPS370UAkIjGLctQHGVNl5sIlVNRJQGzGNb0cLjHNlu8YTbM6Sj21f5lVfSTo7I96To9opmy0QweiSq-hHX0qYqMVmb7xbPLwDP94w5uq8Pr-0qgg/s400/0924190918a_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This part is easy</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
But when the terrain gets really open and there are lots of twists and turns, it's very helpful to let hikers know which way the turn is, and how far. There were double blazes with no turns, double blazes with turns way way beyond the double blaze, sharp turns with no double blazes, and often no blazes immediately after the turns. The latter tended to be the most difficult. The trail would just disappear.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxszVLjDm0XIu0HIDV-q0HYyUcdnoq_sP1FecB5GYG7KJjvulIBk68rvwNQAiAJJdQpKMABGHClTTbNAIlERPl3clkxPz3yAj5KzYvyYsAX1Db1fonjifnJP8vQYdQcJVn5hvQTbKJ4CE/s1600/0924190956.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1119" data-original-width="1600" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxszVLjDm0XIu0HIDV-q0HYyUcdnoq_sP1FecB5GYG7KJjvulIBk68rvwNQAiAJJdQpKMABGHClTTbNAIlERPl3clkxPz3yAj5KzYvyYsAX1Db1fonjifnJP8vQYdQcJVn5hvQTbKJ4CE/s400/0924190956.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Turn which way? None of these markings are helping. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
One spot in particular I floundered about for a good 15 minutes. There were multiple marking indicating a turn. Where? I looked and looked. The markings did not indicate if it was a left turn or right turn, or if the turn was right there or 100 yards further. One of the markings was actually two horizontal lines, which meant nothing to me (in Connecticut it means "end of trail"). There were many possible treadways that fizzled. I kept trying to follow various options, including several route straight ahead that went through heavy vegetation that had been trampled (hikers? moose?). I finally found the correct way was a hard right. There was no tread in that direction and no blazes visible from the double blaze. In retrospect, the two horizontal blazes might have meant "turn exactly here" but I've never seen markings used like that.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrSLb5kj66Tm1paEm8B3GgGvbMfPfZsfbQC4s_8j5O41CEKjZpS7dLP4A0q3q4E1Mzb7MazKWHbudWi8Vmfl8weuqKOjz9V3hyPQh-Ni_QNoupcyc3ukbNoFSJLahuH6cyISPJykP8xYE/s1600/0924191044a_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrSLb5kj66Tm1paEm8B3GgGvbMfPfZsfbQC4s_8j5O41CEKjZpS7dLP4A0q3q4E1Mzb7MazKWHbudWi8Vmfl8weuqKOjz9V3hyPQh-Ni_QNoupcyc3ukbNoFSJLahuH6cyISPJykP8xYE/s400/0924191044a_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Covell Mountain summit</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
But after slogging through lots of such mystery turns, I eventually made it to the top of Covell Mountain, where it started to rain.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxYaRZUmAK1oU7ixpFcVpTWmdTTu98oUeI61B5Ls75cYXPeqfgqED6s49Hj5Z3WA9nSAnf5NKR_Qxpp6jIeSXt8ukPIvqDqDol3gIsy5FJMRs2eg-_d4K0vwG5cJnTtjbX1V56XgQvG4c/s1600/0924191045.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1133" data-original-width="1600" height="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxYaRZUmAK1oU7ixpFcVpTWmdTTu98oUeI61B5Ls75cYXPeqfgqED6s49Hj5Z3WA9nSAnf5NKR_Qxpp6jIeSXt8ukPIvqDqDol3gIsy5FJMRs2eg-_d4K0vwG5cJnTtjbX1V56XgQvG4c/s400/0924191045.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Giant rootball/rain shelter</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
An enormous rootball offer great shelter from the sprinkles as well as a view across the lake. Great time to start in on that local fudge! I normally do not touch fudge, but while backpacking it's OK.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6ztgDkm648YpJAKiHTlPxGugoIuMok3rUkglRPiqQ9dc3jbRFhd-El1uaPQeSvMle1D8jso0XAMJG4KaKLdYeTMz6uHqH2r7T3N-g8c1SVcmBrmpl2pyJT4YCBoO95o_ooEaOXGp2b9A/s1600/0924191051a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6ztgDkm648YpJAKiHTlPxGugoIuMok3rUkglRPiqQ9dc3jbRFhd-El1uaPQeSvMle1D8jso0XAMJG4KaKLdYeTMz6uHqH2r7T3N-g8c1SVcmBrmpl2pyJT4YCBoO95o_ooEaOXGp2b9A/s400/0924191051a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fudge reward</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgimSBiPlzTAiv3CdQguBD9WXfbG1BfryQx_7SxmrLmo8MwrdG1lF01VDg_UifLXPUfxGSG9MimlsMhlBh7GW9wEWpcTjj4h1Gut_QjfhOWOF8NYfbM2I9MPfIZFvTO0WDD5q8gQoHIlXc/s1600/0924191056a_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1028" data-original-width="1600" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgimSBiPlzTAiv3CdQguBD9WXfbG1BfryQx_7SxmrLmo8MwrdG1lF01VDg_UifLXPUfxGSG9MimlsMhlBh7GW9wEWpcTjj4h1Gut_QjfhOWOF8NYfbM2I9MPfIZFvTO0WDD5q8gQoHIlXc/s400/0924191056a_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from Covell Mtn. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The trail was thankfully easier to follow north of Covell Mountain and there was no rush. This section was only eight miles, and even with the wrong turns and lazy late start, there was plenty of time to make it to Tillotson Hut.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsOz95pIpmr-iystMuie0fVZJz-bGJxaqCoWHHsQS_pZtBNeppnI87FlTE3h4KhXlGF46YKsk7bjVtJtg5HNTFSz2fCjFFyxqAhRA4ka89hP8boIfl4LIqGtguzbsu8543OY9Ugl4o1_o/s1600/0924191153.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsOz95pIpmr-iystMuie0fVZJz-bGJxaqCoWHHsQS_pZtBNeppnI87FlTE3h4KhXlGF46YKsk7bjVtJtg5HNTFSz2fCjFFyxqAhRA4ka89hP8boIfl4LIqGtguzbsu8543OY9Ugl4o1_o/s400/0924191153.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Conversation Rock"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
One thing they do that I like is post a few random routered signs for things that make you go 'huh.' One such place was "Conversation Rock." You just know there is a story there. And it will be used as a reference point when doing trail work.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4vbp5Y2_WkisaPTXRE35rpyxz7_Q_2Hvq82rmWsuTTFnRYjrQuW6_KW0kNdC_OSd7qgiR-PP-dQqeihsZ4OGIlTbmJwPisZx111EwUm7tcGgXVaFDofccPyDeIdeSxLVSaYhVTjUzgbs/s1600/0924191156b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4vbp5Y2_WkisaPTXRE35rpyxz7_Q_2Hvq82rmWsuTTFnRYjrQuW6_KW0kNdC_OSd7qgiR-PP-dQqeihsZ4OGIlTbmJwPisZx111EwUm7tcGgXVaFDofccPyDeIdeSxLVSaYhVTjUzgbs/s400/0924191156b.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tree Lungwort</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
One interest find along the trail was a patch of Tree Lungwort, also known as Lung Moss, Lung Lichen, and Oak Lungs. It's reportedly in decline around the world due to acid rain and forestry practices and is associated with old growth forests. Because the leaves resemble lung tissue, this lichen was used for lung diseases such as asthma back in the day when that sort of thing made sense. Moose and deer eat this lichen.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQFAr_3j6-cD0MzhPgTe6Dfqj77xof8J3nIqfq5QltImGVKT-W9Bjx50euf7ahSKo2rMMo828YcZGabI3Ps7nwEVWO4Nqp5S5zW_x8ZtGCC6JmGfoBWF7BJnveHQ7gVKCkJTGU_ZTCLEk/s1600/0924191242_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQFAr_3j6-cD0MzhPgTe6Dfqj77xof8J3nIqfq5QltImGVKT-W9Bjx50euf7ahSKo2rMMo828YcZGabI3Ps7nwEVWO4Nqp5S5zW_x8ZtGCC6JmGfoBWF7BJnveHQ7gVKCkJTGU_ZTCLEk/s400/0924191242_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For Sale at Round Pond</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The Cohos came out onto a road serving camps along the shores of Round Pond, and I passed a thru-hiker headed southbound. She said she had started the day before, so she was making great time, probably leap-frogging the campsites. Twenty miles a day instead of ten. Ahh, bless the young and fit.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF_lPjVpdJzN2mL7fX41iVMlPEdt7ehzjxzG5ipp4jjdI3EiA19GVxppRjjcw681hFo5RPE-CYIjTYdkra15lItEZAc1tpmrcIvGUeTlSxzImr7Nmw7qXzMszNUJ8nlDf9CYJQ2HAemqU/s1600/0924191248.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF_lPjVpdJzN2mL7fX41iVMlPEdt7ehzjxzG5ipp4jjdI3EiA19GVxppRjjcw681hFo5RPE-CYIjTYdkra15lItEZAc1tpmrcIvGUeTlSxzImr7Nmw7qXzMszNUJ8nlDf9CYJQ2HAemqU/s400/0924191248.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More trail confusion at Round Pond Brook</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I had more trail confusion for a few minutes when I followed the blazes to a stream. The blazes just stopped but I kept trying to figure out how I was supposed to cross the stream and continue. Eventually I studied the map, realized the trail did not crossed the stream, and figured out that it was just a spur to the falls not the main trail. I'm used to spurs being blazed differently than the main trail. In Connecticut, this would be yellow + white or yellow+ red, or some other color or shape.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxOGUBvEJguiLSSmIn_2hfFSQ9ANxzDP0BlY8eEskvBOMqcGnIkTdlzpzR6ISlJQrnF1WGVwpQbOncWJd278Wlf_E11aESVcgqi2ke-jmUax9DMR8uv8Pl7CkpREhRtERMYYL4-E0fPxk/s1600/0924191305a_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxOGUBvEJguiLSSmIn_2hfFSQ9ANxzDP0BlY8eEskvBOMqcGnIkTdlzpzR6ISlJQrnF1WGVwpQbOncWJd278Wlf_E11aESVcgqi2ke-jmUax9DMR8uv8Pl7CkpREhRtERMYYL4-E0fPxk/s400/0924191305a_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading into Mooseland</td></tr>
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As the trail got closer to Tillotson Hut, the land dropped into some low areas that were just full of moose tracks. I really wanted to see a moose while hiking. I've seen a couple while hiking at Yellowstone and the Grant Teton National Parks, but that's a step above seeing them at a zoo. I wanted to see one while hiking in New England.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSQczLRh3SWdf4t7LE11D84ayJn6qxfl5m5EYpz9H02ApjY6UBSMjzWnnwgm0GpYz_1Oys_l4cuboLk9yo_UnsacQl-UOQeJgSaTL8aA6BDJ8lIwZRwMS_I2nn6UyP9VTePrggAKweDxM/s1600/0924191322.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1073" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSQczLRh3SWdf4t7LE11D84ayJn6qxfl5m5EYpz9H02ApjY6UBSMjzWnnwgm0GpYz_1Oys_l4cuboLk9yo_UnsacQl-UOQeJgSaTL8aA6BDJ8lIwZRwMS_I2nn6UyP9VTePrggAKweDxM/s400/0924191322.jpg" width="267" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bear claw marks</td></tr>
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I also saw some bear claw marks on a tree. I don't need to see a bear while hiking. I checked that off the list earlier this year in Connecticut. A mama bear and her cubs walking down the trail right at me.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmARVxmRtnnZ6NuL_PMSvLpKoUmyaMQHnbqzw4bLvRX729s-giJsmU1NjPT8niE0W91He6eyFoads7mmbSSm-VppDScGzMGKb_iRrrObASKXCJ6VO-J_dbTiPR-IS48dQvlIU9zpp4hhU/s1600/0924191351d.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="901" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmARVxmRtnnZ6NuL_PMSvLpKoUmyaMQHnbqzw4bLvRX729s-giJsmU1NjPT8niE0W91He6eyFoads7mmbSSm-VppDScGzMGKb_iRrrObASKXCJ6VO-J_dbTiPR-IS48dQvlIU9zpp4hhU/s400/0924191351d.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Garter Snake hiding in the leaves</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Tillotson Hut was beautiful, like so many other huts along the Cohos. I was there before 2:00 pm, stepping over a Garter Snake in the access trail. Part of me wanted to keep going, but not for another nine miles. I'd have to stay here for the night.<br />
<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGoCx0TZkCz3waOoNEHALoe9gXYJS0DhMMhrlQHtyIJ5JkG_JdRH6nVEFbzd5Py-oH1bJNf65C65K_J6y72iYXD26k0JOj1n2yuS0aOvN-SP_QffhxhhW9zwGTSxlPxYN5RvL_yQ_JICQ/s1600/0924191353a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGoCx0TZkCz3waOoNEHALoe9gXYJS0DhMMhrlQHtyIJ5JkG_JdRH6nVEFbzd5Py-oH1bJNf65C65K_J6y72iYXD26k0JOj1n2yuS0aOvN-SP_QffhxhhW9zwGTSxlPxYN5RvL_yQ_JICQ/s400/0924191353a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tillotson Hut</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The craftsmanship on these things is just amazing. Look at how the logs are notched to fit together at the ends. There's also a sweet-smelling privy and a water source nearby.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghprS3JQb_UZynP5ng7J5xTXOwEsLIwhJEcnUgLviCpeSbwN08d10jT0AJEeHgId_g-FBFyNNCXSh_iBvazAqzhYk-4wtihMkfWCL23J1HkfvVQ9tTQ27s4yd2v8E0CLh9LWPikGeal58/s1600/0924191354.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghprS3JQb_UZynP5ng7J5xTXOwEsLIwhJEcnUgLviCpeSbwN08d10jT0AJEeHgId_g-FBFyNNCXSh_iBvazAqzhYk-4wtihMkfWCL23J1HkfvVQ9tTQ27s4yd2v8E0CLh9LWPikGeal58/s400/0924191354.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Craftsmanship!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I dipped a bottle into the shallow stream and a salamander darted away. Caddisfly larvae crawled around the bottom, a marker of great water quality.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAQeOL7a6lwACMhqvrI6S0EZOBvH1rD8SIjck0fX7UdR-_NwEIiP9BIDWavM4rbsVPeI4dKM6yK7W1BzBTiidL0G49PqgA_j5be8mrMQ0UEejHg6WgTzX5v2dJccZakdksnKs9zA8K72o/s1600/0924191603b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="985" data-original-width="1600" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAQeOL7a6lwACMhqvrI6S0EZOBvH1rD8SIjck0fX7UdR-_NwEIiP9BIDWavM4rbsVPeI4dKM6yK7W1BzBTiidL0G49PqgA_j5be8mrMQ0UEejHg6WgTzX5v2dJccZakdksnKs9zA8K72o/s400/0924191603b.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Red Backed Salamander </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
My tent was pretty wet from rain the night before, so I was able to start drying that out by hanging it out under the shelter overhangs. The temperature was dropping, a wind was blowing into the shelter, and it promised to be a much colder night. I wanted to be in my tent, which can be significantly warmer than outside, surprisingly so. As darkness approached and it seemed no one else was coming to share the shelter, I set the tent up inside the shelter.<br />
<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitlFm6xn5zVlN5yBEBnP9dxfwurVGWclz7swc2FlGegtBsaVMB2nzPjzaJHJFBED5eavKsl12YmiQDxFAszZ4Yu329YclSHteb42oV_Di3OZF6ICaoHSZXqDdjQPJdli1o3yLETxDUmHk/s1600/0924191428.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitlFm6xn5zVlN5yBEBnP9dxfwurVGWclz7swc2FlGegtBsaVMB2nzPjzaJHJFBED5eavKsl12YmiQDxFAszZ4Yu329YclSHteb42oV_Di3OZF6ICaoHSZXqDdjQPJdli1o3yLETxDUmHk/s400/0924191428.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Home Sweet Home for the night</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="text-align: center;">I signed the guest book after dark. I was just finishing up when a pack of coyotes nearby started yipping. Oh they do put chills down your spine. I was happy to crawl into the tent and zip it up. </span></div>
Teresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04628471774296555013noreply@blogger.com0US-3, Pittsburg, NH 03592, USA45.125571168653373 -71.23663023798826545.001647168653371 -71.456356737988258 45.249495168653375 -71.016903737988272tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410961879681386812.post-36411394231357857302019-09-23T12:27:00.000-04:002019-10-07T18:32:28.261-04:00NH Cohos Trail: Clarksville Pond to Happy Corner<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji0I7eJt2CqrEfKYaN7ELM_cG68CHfZ8Re73ACoawaodIvSwWswnT-KA7qGV14Ogjvvzia7Xru8PTw3KvNOpV3oVqJhBGRoPXzYIECiDfrMJpJoQYFnbQw3arR3nnlR4Dg0wbT9sCRXkE/s1600/0923190633.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji0I7eJt2CqrEfKYaN7ELM_cG68CHfZ8Re73ACoawaodIvSwWswnT-KA7qGV14Ogjvvzia7Xru8PTw3KvNOpV3oVqJhBGRoPXzYIECiDfrMJpJoQYFnbQw3arR3nnlR4Dg0wbT9sCRXkE/s400/0923190633.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Road between the Cohos Trail and Rudy's Campground at Clarksville Pond</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="text-align: center;">Day 3 of my final trip on the NET-Cohos route, and I set out before dawn once again in order to avoid ATVs. I had a fifteen-mile hike to "Happy Corner" and I wasn't quite sure how much of it was open to ATVs. Impossible to tell from the trail map. It was nearly a mile back to the Cohos Trail from the campground, and the first thing I noticed was that the signs at the junction had been broken and knocked to the ground. Perhaps the ATVs I heard riding around in the dark. </span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg65Mj76nW5qoei-Ww94BVxndcKWU3yhz1SgBj9pZ09jykRWhBGwHmjvAcT5wGv6CC97klsF7rscl_S0Vwx7h979YQ2AAQUWthaaREYfsAhVxb0Qy1ZLBXOjdsafgdKPXfpxKRfaL-QUzo/s1600/0923190640.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="901" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg65Mj76nW5qoei-Ww94BVxndcKWU3yhz1SgBj9pZ09jykRWhBGwHmjvAcT5wGv6CC97klsF7rscl_S0Vwx7h979YQ2AAQUWthaaREYfsAhVxb0Qy1ZLBXOjdsafgdKPXfpxKRfaL-QUzo/s400/0923190640.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These signs were standing the day before</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I set out to cover as much ground as possible early in the morning and get myself off the ATV tracks. The trail was deeply rutted and the vegetation along the sides was covered with thick road dust.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBx5-WZEmt0A3Tx_zHlQpAtEYIn9lwQRlObHmvUCR9X4rH-IjHfbU5qfdNyQD3IxIzWZfVC6Mq1mcZ1ZEDDRto2YddGqNZ8xOYv5nA3-bQaHIHDCLaNrvz4Fb-HE2DgjCHXMt-y5X38OQ/s1600/0923190651.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBx5-WZEmt0A3Tx_zHlQpAtEYIn9lwQRlObHmvUCR9X4rH-IjHfbU5qfdNyQD3IxIzWZfVC6Mq1mcZ1ZEDDRto2YddGqNZ8xOYv5nA3-bQaHIHDCLaNrvz4Fb-HE2DgjCHXMt-y5X38OQ/s400/0923190651.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Deadwater Trail (ATV track)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Eventually the rutted Deadwater Trail turned into the Deadwater Loop Road for a good ways before the Cohos turned onto Cedar Stream Road.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_bcWWmfTGdQb57Op5zgT_IYQ4kqPeWn5KB1ylS5w-kT8jm8bW2zk_oNaifvb5_nBkpu8XyjVUJSL8HVtmAsTUxNar7Ow1M3Q6tNmbDWrpnZees0lZvoOQm5I-BnDLtncArk7-5MSFTSk/s1600/0923190720.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_bcWWmfTGdQb57Op5zgT_IYQ4kqPeWn5KB1ylS5w-kT8jm8bW2zk_oNaifvb5_nBkpu8XyjVUJSL8HVtmAsTUxNar7Ow1M3Q6tNmbDWrpnZees0lZvoOQm5I-BnDLtncArk7-5MSFTSk/s400/0923190720.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Deadwater Loop Road</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
There were signs indicated that ATV access was only local, and I relaxed a little. I didn't realize how much the threat of an ATV suddenly screaming up the trail had put me on edge.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3Houa4dy09xWFAz0xCC99B4CzYi_0el5GdoRlhyiHiIZ9v7l0H47vl03KEzsxx10qWK47nzHRlaQo1NqwuhYNSqU-WwaLJSKBTvJxob77PuDfkZ9ThNgjzKcY75GvW8rhPIGbKsY3Hq8/s1600/0923190748.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3Houa4dy09xWFAz0xCC99B4CzYi_0el5GdoRlhyiHiIZ9v7l0H47vl03KEzsxx10qWK47nzHRlaQo1NqwuhYNSqU-WwaLJSKBTvJxob77PuDfkZ9ThNgjzKcY75GvW8rhPIGbKsY3Hq8/s400/0923190748.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Deadwater Stream crossing, Cedar Stream Road</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It turned out that I had no issues with ATVs all day. That was probably in large part because it was Monday and the weekend crowds were gone. Also, the weather forecast included rain.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6XKLcCICNAFj6V6yNa1uYtIc7-TKVsA1YWBlqFxedrF52Vemfzb0B6hXAGBGuHUssYK9Fz3jK9gIuv9M1ZDLXS0y97Vfb8cPnaKbFh0IEBYZ18io-_3DFsjcfMx0-Vk-ieBz53XPqcAI/s1600/0923190837_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6XKLcCICNAFj6V6yNa1uYtIc7-TKVsA1YWBlqFxedrF52Vemfzb0B6hXAGBGuHUssYK9Fz3jK9gIuv9M1ZDLXS0y97Vfb8cPnaKbFh0IEBYZ18io-_3DFsjcfMx0-Vk-ieBz53XPqcAI/s400/0923190837_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lake Francis from Cedar Stream Road</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The Cohos follows Cedar Stream Road for about six miles along the south side of Lake Francis, though it was a mile or two before the lake could be seen from the road. The first glimpses of the lake were through sporadic camp clearings, then there was a nice overlook right from the road. Beautiful.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnmJNd1gf1bm6xZImT1hBJDhKhHJTM_Tsf_NL7ScrCdLpi-sGGz6k2Z-uSwPY6u0amrPDlDwkYd8a0zyoZ9cdc0TKHRtz65_J5ijrQUD5FSmNGcPCGcepaZXH7VkmMnMAPoFERaKkDkL4/s1600/0923190855_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnmJNd1gf1bm6xZImT1hBJDhKhHJTM_Tsf_NL7ScrCdLpi-sGGz6k2Z-uSwPY6u0amrPDlDwkYd8a0zyoZ9cdc0TKHRtz65_J5ijrQUD5FSmNGcPCGcepaZXH7VkmMnMAPoFERaKkDkL4/s400/0923190855_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fall colors on Cedar Stream Road</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This wasn't a bad road walk, especially with the fall colors. Before long there was an access point from the road where you could walk down to the shore. Looked like the reservoir level was pretty low. I took a nice long break. There was a cell phone tower on a hill above the opposite shore and I got a great signal.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCLMuKGwVmYma7RLYhYh8rDvJZ4hSBjJuCKbyZKyTtdbB5cpqc4dVcWVtb9dVK8QXb9jCyFNlothwZEwbAq9Twm8CZdE2NpjQfw7FIvB7t2TpvI7bS8pXHr3PY5fSE8x0FC6aZFq00lxM/s1600/0923190922.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCLMuKGwVmYma7RLYhYh8rDvJZ4hSBjJuCKbyZKyTtdbB5cpqc4dVcWVtb9dVK8QXb9jCyFNlothwZEwbAq9Twm8CZdE2NpjQfw7FIvB7t2TpvI7bS8pXHr3PY5fSE8x0FC6aZFq00lxM/s400/0923190922.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taking a break off Cedar Stream Road</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The clouds were ominous and the radar showed a big slug of rain just missing me to the north. The next afternoon I would run into a southbound hiker who commented on how much rain had fallen the day before. It fell on her, but not on me. I got showers a few times during the day, but it never rained hard or for very long.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjESNvUgeD44YKQFntBKuZuANANkeuxA1Wa6He1bJZNpSxHUcDVymXa0mOLaefOGlhcl9CZXkfaKqVlH8sB4LhD0WkZ4Lj5SAyr1gEU9p7Qd5kFRjJzer9LpyBnRIIq-fTZ3ApZJLtA_9s/s1600/0923190936.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjESNvUgeD44YKQFntBKuZuANANkeuxA1Wa6He1bJZNpSxHUcDVymXa0mOLaefOGlhcl9CZXkfaKqVlH8sB4LhD0WkZ4Lj5SAyr1gEU9p7Qd5kFRjJzer9LpyBnRIIq-fTZ3ApZJLtA_9s/s400/0923190936.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lake Francis</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After the break it was back to the long road walk. For some reason, I kept seeing dead shrews in the road. Not run over, just dead. I once asked a wildlife biologist about finding these creatures dead and apparently unharmed, and he said that they have a very short lifespan and just die a lot. I've never seen so many dead ones on the same day, but I don't usually walk down roads for fifteen miles, either.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSZzTwzt14AOfX1bZ5ycWPKvQM-4YZilZAPNYcBCw8jGsSRq-IXe4fS77M3vfWcqy6UUBRDyZ8iUH4AI81y18M0q3aYT9o1t3BhrPNIZKnx-KK1g_EduSy_QAfP39ngl2DE29wx4tA54Y/s1600/0923191027b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1331" data-original-width="1600" height="332" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSZzTwzt14AOfX1bZ5ycWPKvQM-4YZilZAPNYcBCw8jGsSRq-IXe4fS77M3vfWcqy6UUBRDyZ8iUH4AI81y18M0q3aYT9o1t3BhrPNIZKnx-KK1g_EduSy_QAfP39ngl2DE29wx4tA54Y/s400/0923191027b.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mountain Maple</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Cedar Stream Road had had very little traffic. Only a few pickup trucks passed me, and this end of the road seemed pretty isolated. A quiet Monday morning and a pleasant walk The road was in the maple zone, so there was lots of fall color and lots of time to enjoy it. Mountain Maples were low and often orange to red. This is a small tree often growing in a clump I've never seen in southern New England.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiOJL2h0vdBt_u3H2R8UDTf5awA-L5rJyfxxL8NbMOOarTQONm9CE0_ShauBmuHfQrl3ARCapRyPg2xGdfWcuHDSyMOVfutClZiBquSqhqHFKMwtxWlLlaoNhSdsYYjdga5G9aY5WLpsc/s1600/0923191027c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiOJL2h0vdBt_u3H2R8UDTf5awA-L5rJyfxxL8NbMOOarTQONm9CE0_ShauBmuHfQrl3ARCapRyPg2xGdfWcuHDSyMOVfutClZiBquSqhqHFKMwtxWlLlaoNhSdsYYjdga5G9aY5WLpsc/s400/0923191027c.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red Maple</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Red Maples, true to their name, were consistently a deep red. The edges are jagged and frayed. I think of it as a weedy tree that makes me suffer every spring when it pollinates.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS5-fvonTQm1cUdi2FMFw8WC04pbKKOnCOkGFaNAeEk5z2JnbwNr4l9uC1WcZuHJzdgVc3PzJ2cJsjMixgMMJbE1Za-qq5JPhT77t5zTemFOhSnDmHcf0oqkVTQ8MCBwJmLGLq7HflFuw/s1600/0923191035.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1099" data-original-width="1600" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS5-fvonTQm1cUdi2FMFw8WC04pbKKOnCOkGFaNAeEk5z2JnbwNr4l9uC1WcZuHJzdgVc3PzJ2cJsjMixgMMJbE1Za-qq5JPhT77t5zTemFOhSnDmHcf0oqkVTQ8MCBwJmLGLq7HflFuw/s400/0923191035.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sugar Maple</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The regal Sugar Maple was a variety of color ranging from gold to orange to red. I think of its leaves as being more ornate, never frayed at the edges. I hadn't seen any Striped Maple for quite some time. No idea why.<br />
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<div>
I kept an eye on the gps track stored on my phone as the trail approached the east end of Lake Francis because there was a critical left turn. Good thing I did, because I don't think the turn was marked in any way. Just a bit of a dirt road veering off to the left. I'm so glad I had the gps track. Without it, I would have explored that turnoff as the likely one, but with the gps track I KNEW it was the correct turnoff.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2oc8_tQy6GR6JG4abonybKs_OfhyphenhyphenyE-h7E6XPwF2SPzh6tlrtqso0Ddme4JiYuB7wI2ws2womWqpMRnV8jzzweLcIsdQByP023lPQG96gTlZEkoGFUVxnj2lTs8exjk3qyru17EcFec8/s1600/0923191120.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2oc8_tQy6GR6JG4abonybKs_OfhyphenhyphenyE-h7E6XPwF2SPzh6tlrtqso0Ddme4JiYuB7wI2ws2womWqpMRnV8jzzweLcIsdQByP023lPQG96gTlZEkoGFUVxnj2lTs8exjk3qyru17EcFec8/s400/0923191120.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Off the gravel roads!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The Cohos rounded the southeast corner of the lake and turned onto Lake Francis Trail, which finally turned off of the gravel roads. Yes! Walking down the woodland path put a smile on my face. It was so nice after walking on gravel roads for the past two days.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWpf5O1VVebbE5NHL-rKPUcX998fEGuVO8gRDZEYATQ7BHLvl4E_aiT0C5_VhNWq3EOMfAuRMa8ZucsLVDS3oiwhrICP-2Iawj1bA5G6o9d2jMdaXJ_A9YEVrTF0aaABXXloT1CT2p9Rg/s1600/0923191133_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWpf5O1VVebbE5NHL-rKPUcX998fEGuVO8gRDZEYATQ7BHLvl4E_aiT0C5_VhNWq3EOMfAuRMa8ZucsLVDS3oiwhrICP-2Iawj1bA5G6o9d2jMdaXJ_A9YEVrTF0aaABXXloT1CT2p9Rg/s400/0923191133_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lake Francis "Six-Mile View"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After a bit, the trail arrived at Six Mile View, where you can look down the long axis of the reservoir, a full six miles. A big pile of driftwood was piled up into the trees far from shore, driven and piled up by some pretty good waves that are created by west wind, presumably when the water level was much higher.<br />
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There were also strand lines parallel to the shore. It looked very much like the shore of Long Island Sound where you get strand lines at various high tide levels. I caught myself keeping an eye out for crabs and other ocean creatures, just out of habit.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjIGsqxIBpP0wonUralJSCqFTenFHN1yfzDVC0SbEr1KBtFHSjRcK3OH95HkTJW_dAdBfrMMDYdwV40nY_xj-r8H5ErzWs154VFcgd6nE6D-ir1XCQ5KMBAVEv8ps2CfTrPVHtncxkMvk/s1600/0923191135_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjIGsqxIBpP0wonUralJSCqFTenFHN1yfzDVC0SbEr1KBtFHSjRcK3OH95HkTJW_dAdBfrMMDYdwV40nY_xj-r8H5ErzWs154VFcgd6nE6D-ir1XCQ5KMBAVEv8ps2CfTrPVHtncxkMvk/s400/0923191135_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Strand Lines on Lake Francis</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After a nice long break for lunch, I continued up the Lake Francis Trail, an easy walk, and started to hear water roiling down the steep hill to my left. It sounded like a big waterfall, but I couldn't see it. This continued for a good ways. It wasn't a waterfall, it was the Connecticut River. I quickened my pace, eager to finally see the Connecticut River once again during this walk. The last time was a few hundred miles to the south in Hadley, Massachusetts, where the New England Trail crosses the river. After a morning of kayaking the nearby oxbow lake, we had kayaked across the river, I got out with my pack, and my husband towed the kayak back across the river. Such fun!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE0cocmexyQVee7y7LiXzwZ41P1MZt07N9SRZvcnm8TJ8JhsMlvCQ95c_Jj79nsRsifd5EYR8qwJyyTd1eBxB2ToL6QIhLW1JJ-BhbBkzzZLzEZuhzem1IIPm9rcQ1_TfqfGeaD6smxU8/s1600/0923191313a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1014" data-original-width="1600" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE0cocmexyQVee7y7LiXzwZ41P1MZt07N9SRZvcnm8TJ8JhsMlvCQ95c_Jj79nsRsifd5EYR8qwJyyTd1eBxB2ToL6QIhLW1JJ-BhbBkzzZLzEZuhzem1IIPm9rcQ1_TfqfGeaD6smxU8/s400/0923191313a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fishermen on the Connecticut River</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The trail abruptly came out onto a bridge over the river. Wow! This was not the Connecticut River I was used to. It was young and wild and free. The version I'm used to in Connecticut is vast and tidal. A couple of guys were fly fishing to one side, so I went over to the other side and had a sudden, inexplicable need to take off my boots and put my feet into this Connecticut River. Sweet!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHiF0Rdvax8tdEK1ubx11y3KUk7VxCvWvwNJJ59pbYXbyYllJcP1xlS508EqMC0GdU_CZxhUX5w6mckoFgTVjKsctb4KhoUFiy40gDQ6toDdWFY02dj2PxeZG2NF-eLBV9lSH2UWJGJag/s1600/0923191317a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHiF0Rdvax8tdEK1ubx11y3KUk7VxCvWvwNJJ59pbYXbyYllJcP1xlS508EqMC0GdU_CZxhUX5w6mckoFgTVjKsctb4KhoUFiy40gDQ6toDdWFY02dj2PxeZG2NF-eLBV9lSH2UWJGJag/s400/0923191317a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Connecticut River above Lake Francis</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After a bit of a road walk and then a turn onto a heavily eroded ATV trail (empty on a Monday), I came out onto the back side of Young's Store. Second lunch! I had a nice cold drink and an ice cream to start, threw an sumptuous Italian Combo sandwich in my pack, and cross the street over to Mountain View Cabins and Campground.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGfSWCLdm5XeTO98YaU66CVmlIa1MMQ8iQOPG8lYR_eaRMDdxoACpPoGHtNzB0aECyjEqLhTFh4iAOWqT0zp93YECkea-LSMtJOAUzpypVMc2IfprzPhF9c9IxoPf4zJBp-XDPJYW59uU/s1600/0923191358.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGfSWCLdm5XeTO98YaU66CVmlIa1MMQ8iQOPG8lYR_eaRMDdxoACpPoGHtNzB0aECyjEqLhTFh4iAOWqT0zp93YECkea-LSMtJOAUzpypVMc2IfprzPhF9c9IxoPf4zJBp-XDPJYW59uU/s400/0923191358.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coming up on Happy Corner</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The proprietor let me have my pick of tent sites (all were empty). It was a pretty good hike up the hill to the tent sites, but the fifteen mile walk was over. I set up the tent, had that Italian combo at the picnic table, and took a shower. A startled deer jumped away from my campsite when I returned from the bathhouse, snorting and leaping. Deer rarely bother with all the theatrics in Connecticut. They just walk away a short distance into the trees, clearly annoyed, and turn around an look at you with disdain. </div>
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<div>
After inventorying my food supply, I determined that I needed something like 3500 more calories in my pack, so I headed back down to Young's general store, where I got a box of Triscuits, a box of NutriGrain bars, some Peanut M&M's, local fudge, and another sandwich for dinner. All set for the rest of the journey. The Triscuits packed and carried really well. The Nutrigrain bars turned to mush but still tasted OK.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkryz2xjPfu25trBWNG6LmiZSIZAILKC_557tZ03uGVgIWAeI7zEhssvihibIz-zutUaZjWsaPCYC5i8n7RZbhYKodz4C6S_SFFkdb4kkMJ_24xM12K9wLXaPP8-f66rlqjoASMR9lSCg/s1600/0923191643_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="901" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkryz2xjPfu25trBWNG6LmiZSIZAILKC_557tZ03uGVgIWAeI7zEhssvihibIz-zutUaZjWsaPCYC5i8n7RZbhYKodz4C6S_SFFkdb4kkMJ_24xM12K9wLXaPP8-f66rlqjoASMR9lSCg/s400/0923191643_HDR.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mountain View Campground</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Once again, I was able to hang out in the laundry room and charge my phone. Nice.<br />
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Teresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04628471774296555013noreply@blogger.com02787 N Main St, Pittsburg, NH 03592, USA45.08576819792119 -71.30854200790406645.078011697921191 -71.322275007904068 45.09352469792119 -71.294809007904064tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410961879681386812.post-54381646719926051812019-09-22T15:06:00.000-04:002019-10-07T13:17:55.331-04:00NH Cohos Trail: Coleman S.P. to Clarksville Pond<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdC-WHXmOo2gHtEwMJLLGP8wkbMWnJJ2cRox8Rg6lPSN0yBu2tehvcvooiRuFOW6I8Hw6M5yCW7FsVFOhiIud47HX-fAo_lyTuvHrHYpei0Ch4f0D2jEw2a9_IUqT8MVuDk8FrxnMgjqo/s1600/0922190549.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdC-WHXmOo2gHtEwMJLLGP8wkbMWnJJ2cRox8Rg6lPSN0yBu2tehvcvooiRuFOW6I8Hw6M5yCW7FsVFOhiIud47HX-fAo_lyTuvHrHYpei0Ch4f0D2jEw2a9_IUqT8MVuDk8FrxnMgjqo/s400/0922190549.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Little Diamond Pond at 5:45 am. Time to go!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Day two of the final trip. This next section mostly followed ATV routes, and it would be great Sunday weather for the ATVers, so I was on the trail before sunrise. In my experience, most ATV riders are not morning people. I'm not either, but I can make an exception. The Milky Way still stretched across the dark sky as I wandered over to the bathhouse before taking down the tent.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJa9YFHJP-Gou0q3N2xaP4NbQhYNPQyEnjfCP5hbdhtORekjjKwc93d-kihHf1bRl6GIQYQidqSDx7VCSGDewNrgyxyPmugyHfkyHObbeRi5TjDfkKr52fDtg52QtmDBL0wfl8qV2G0Bc/s1600/0922190632_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJa9YFHJP-Gou0q3N2xaP4NbQhYNPQyEnjfCP5hbdhtORekjjKwc93d-kihHf1bRl6GIQYQidqSDx7VCSGDewNrgyxyPmugyHfkyHObbeRi5TjDfkKr52fDtg52QtmDBL0wfl8qV2G0Bc/s400/0922190632_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Turning onto Heath Road before the ATV crowds wake up</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The Cohos guidebook refers to this section as the "Hardscrabble" section due to the area's history of poor farms, and says they hope to reroute the trail off the ATV roads some day. But for now, it would be ATV trails most of the way.<br />
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No mountains to cross this day, just rolling hills via ten miles of gravel roads. Piece of cake, I thought, as I strolled past camps for ATVs and snowmobile facilities in the early light. I was glad I was up early. The first ATV trail, Heath Road, clearly got a lot of ATV use, but it was now dead quiet. Someone had hit a poor porcupine. How does that happen on a straight gravel road? It's not like a porcupine can dart out in front of you.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiq_Ic04EM0ppy5afYsSNAerPC9WXElvk95E-Zg51zx4nQWGxtOzM3nNcnx5YdW-5KqMswo79xSjfEYP-46vw01hWC3dlWKLBdZ4_sa-41CZHinDlp_5SthocTM0GHsm-yQ3WhyphenhyphenVIjORs/s1600/0922190740a_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiq_Ic04EM0ppy5afYsSNAerPC9WXElvk95E-Zg51zx4nQWGxtOzM3nNcnx5YdW-5KqMswo79xSjfEYP-46vw01hWC3dlWKLBdZ4_sa-41CZHinDlp_5SthocTM0GHsm-yQ3WhyphenhyphenVIjORs/s400/0922190740a_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bear Rock Road</td></tr>
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Heath Road came out onto Bear Rock Road, a car road with dwellings, and a couple of sedate ATVs toodled down the road nearby, no different than a passing car. This was a neat road, although there was a moment of concern when a big dog came down the road barking at me. I did my best to look away and walked deliberately on the other side of the road and got past the barker without incident. That was a funny dog as I approached. It's bark kept echoing back from a nearby hill as if in response, and I wondered if the dog was barking at itself.<br />
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There were a number of old apple trees dropping apples along the road, and some potentially abandoned buildings, a sign of the former farming days. I imagine this was marginal farmland compared to the Connecticut River valley.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5gGe-jIMXmJgDrBFM40IrboWDT_2KJORNlaLsn1Gkeufx3772qoXJ480KtrSG2Wg4UlBOJ_CJ-SoggMDxeO4dtfdHiHsG-G6HYgqxe1u-h_H1JNn4VXil9rA9U7xgshiqyWxpPV-svg0/s1600/0922190805c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5gGe-jIMXmJgDrBFM40IrboWDT_2KJORNlaLsn1Gkeufx3772qoXJ480KtrSG2Wg4UlBOJ_CJ-SoggMDxeO4dtfdHiHsG-G6HYgqxe1u-h_H1JNn4VXil9rA9U7xgshiqyWxpPV-svg0/s400/0922190805c.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">McAllaster Road promised peace and quiet</td></tr>
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The trail then took a right turn onto McAllaster Road and that was the best part of the entire hike. This was an active farm road and ATVs were prohibited. The scenery was gorgeous and the trail was peaceful.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJeB_hXYLZnx8E2kCGjoIOwuKXIltwCJeCKx9zf3Sgy95UHE4burVhxbAzjKGsAoSdkCJexWrjqUC5i39KoLKv4v0Un7L1vQq-Bxt9VHtGhYMqjYfm4nL8OZDNRyjInkC4x8K1_Qvu4RI/s1600/0922190808c_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJeB_hXYLZnx8E2kCGjoIOwuKXIltwCJeCKx9zf3Sgy95UHE4burVhxbAzjKGsAoSdkCJexWrjqUC5i39KoLKv4v0Un7L1vQq-Bxt9VHtGhYMqjYfm4nL8OZDNRyjInkC4x8K1_Qvu4RI/s400/0922190808c_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the few active farms in the area</td></tr>
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I took my time on this lovely road, lingering to greet the cows that were munching on fallen apples. Although it was only maybe 1.5 miles long, many of my favorite pictures were from this section. It was mostly up a gentle hill, and at the top I finally got a good cell phone signal, so I sat down and communicated with the greater world for a bit.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyKMpsaMK4ywsQAtd4ugWrp9MIdIFLH7ZDJqA-9XRXAonz6bJE7WppJSMOLwAxqzNQncTTeOPDjOu0eKQIJ7b78wkAtzIkn9Y2ADBroSGFt8K5Q5tr8F8FRN79MAAFQ9P_8SZtwWIlAbo/s1600/0922190812.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyKMpsaMK4ywsQAtd4ugWrp9MIdIFLH7ZDJqA-9XRXAonz6bJE7WppJSMOLwAxqzNQncTTeOPDjOu0eKQIJ7b78wkAtzIkn9Y2ADBroSGFt8K5Q5tr8F8FRN79MAAFQ9P_8SZtwWIlAbo/s400/0922190812.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">McAllister Road was the highlight of this walk</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ-K_A-Bo4TKGOAsohzPwA_F-rROm2Vp-UmUZtJ4YqBSqGsatsHz2fQrifp0-quOXWLzxVVYs6KT0A-NPtIqYOyGi7rwQxUTsWfOsdANhbfZpuCj2DjitG6vSFCbo3pYbtDpNkgWGViPo/s1600/0922190813a_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ-K_A-Bo4TKGOAsohzPwA_F-rROm2Vp-UmUZtJ4YqBSqGsatsHz2fQrifp0-quOXWLzxVVYs6KT0A-NPtIqYOyGi7rwQxUTsWfOsdANhbfZpuCj2DjitG6vSFCbo3pYbtDpNkgWGViPo/s400/0922190813a_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cows eating apples that had fallen from the trees</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifzqb_avSiMPZTkb6wDEWKxhX_DGlKr0VhE4RakiTbY6iiedQd7bgJA6cKEHHVGX9avHleOyuiOX-TfTrFajqt_6bTzPdpeJB44uA-X5_F_LkdrPlh_Agc92CP-hMkpPyWzra1DKxqkUQ/s1600/0922190844_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifzqb_avSiMPZTkb6wDEWKxhX_DGlKr0VhE4RakiTbY6iiedQd7bgJA6cKEHHVGX9avHleOyuiOX-TfTrFajqt_6bTzPdpeJB44uA-X5_F_LkdrPlh_Agc92CP-hMkpPyWzra1DKxqkUQ/s400/0922190844_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">McAllister Road</td></tr>
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But all good things must come to an end, as did McAllister Road. The trail began following a series of well-used ATV trails. Some sections were also open to regular vehicles and there was an occasional camp.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSjdNPr33R6ZCKEsRcTuIaHS5-TOK_6Fa6Oi7z1vMQC6yVdLXTTjwMKIi4X6voP6ULoANeIbPts3qr8NSTnnyXCOV3-Ct9cNSDxhAYvtGrr8ePbdgSkHoRJyNmn6oiMXGhPLNXIJa2S2c/s1600/0922190952.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSjdNPr33R6ZCKEsRcTuIaHS5-TOK_6Fa6Oi7z1vMQC6yVdLXTTjwMKIi4X6voP6ULoANeIbPts3qr8NSTnnyXCOV3-Ct9cNSDxhAYvtGrr8ePbdgSkHoRJyNmn6oiMXGhPLNXIJa2S2c/s400/0922190952.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Following ATV trails now</td></tr>
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Further south, the ATVs seemed pretty tame and sedate, and the ATV "trails" were often well-built gravel roads, but there was something different in the air up here. There was a sign, posted by ATVers, imploring other ATVers to stay on the trail and report anyone who did not, otherwise the trail could be closed (I heard later from a local that some area trails had in fact been closed by landowners because ATVs were trampling their hay and so forth). I didn't see anything like this further south.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKEJB8RQdcI26WBU4LCp-zIuxtgaAri8s07NRSpbIuzdKergwYTY4Hn5LABbXVCxPNSeuvU57mq2XMssF7nsk4cvsH6aZ_fKHsIMnrUHln_Kvpp_5C8z6bJ2wuvv5e2J5vzmJr24_dmhg/s1600/0922190959.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1182" data-original-width="1600" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKEJB8RQdcI26WBU4LCp-zIuxtgaAri8s07NRSpbIuzdKergwYTY4Hn5LABbXVCxPNSeuvU57mq2XMssF7nsk4cvsH6aZ_fKHsIMnrUHln_Kvpp_5C8z6bJ2wuvv5e2J5vzmJr24_dmhg/s400/0922190959.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A few bad eggs</td></tr>
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The gravel road, now called the Deadwater Trail, came out onto one particularly spectacular vista. You could see for miles. The meadows on either side were guarded, presumably from ATVs, with a white string. Throughout this part of the walk, I was increasingly hearing ATVs in the distance.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHWz2e_6ridWHBvuh-_dKb9Mn3bp-Zz2RlXjV0Vyodl64BQeh4EhA8lTVx93QUhD0CfCmGAg1PfMckql0IIIsco0WRx0BnC-YoR6lRs3YyZJmm7RMPN6cBjoJG3oUKphc_Fc2YIWe3AyY/s1600/0922190959_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHWz2e_6ridWHBvuh-_dKb9Mn3bp-Zz2RlXjV0Vyodl64BQeh4EhA8lTVx93QUhD0CfCmGAg1PfMckql0IIIsco0WRx0BnC-YoR6lRs3YyZJmm7RMPN6cBjoJG3oUKphc_Fc2YIWe3AyY/s400/0922190959_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Deadwater ATV Trail</td></tr>
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An improbable snack shack stood in the center of this spectacular area, but was sadly closed for the season due to "lack of business."<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX-NyNOQYU4COXJPjuPxXX6WJerIBr3ZtwrP5QKJLOdqqa_4f8MoUtgzxP9OqIP8fXM_BMM8LnmyVkr_VXjQtf-lkTIF3pbWTvTGhHRxcJKuR5pBGLC7P_MNLVmrktQoOxmeHVJ1RADDE/s1600/0922191002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX-NyNOQYU4COXJPjuPxXX6WJerIBr3ZtwrP5QKJLOdqqa_4f8MoUtgzxP9OqIP8fXM_BMM8LnmyVkr_VXjQtf-lkTIF3pbWTvTGhHRxcJKuR5pBGLC7P_MNLVmrktQoOxmeHVJ1RADDE/s400/0922191002.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Snack Shack for ATVers was closed</td></tr>
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The trail continued down the hill, with deepening tire ruts, and at some point I heard blasting music rapidly approaching, followed by the revving of an ATV. I was in the worst possible location, on a tight turn with ruts several feet deep and no easy way to get out of them as a couple of young teenagers burst around the corner at high speed, suddenly saw me (or my bright orange hat), and jerked to the side to keep from hitting me. I motioned for them to slow down, and in response they gunned the motor and spun the tires, throwing gravel back at me. This is more like my typical Connecticut ATV experience. Jerks.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7AKkucwW9yN2-3_yFG9cjThhIjUI8XnVbb75q4tN_mjnDyEj1E9W_l0IIfv94aham0JHkYOhee9YhMPLmfiriFYfqn5rm0Oy07IFfsSUXU7E7AY3kZbpA3Ut-XN5mzBMaXGEzVZ5eZFA/s1600/0922191013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7AKkucwW9yN2-3_yFG9cjThhIjUI8XnVbb75q4tN_mjnDyEj1E9W_l0IIfv94aham0JHkYOhee9YhMPLmfiriFYfqn5rm0Oy07IFfsSUXU7E7AY3kZbpA3Ut-XN5mzBMaXGEzVZ5eZFA/s400/0922191013.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shared Trail</td></tr>
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ATV traffic picked up very rapidly, and maybe thirty ATVs passed me on the next stretch. They were not so rude as the kids, but the dust was terrible, in part because they weren't slowing down much as they passed. They would zoom past and I was left sucking the cloud of dust into my lungs and rubbing my eyeballs coated with grit. This was not good.<br />
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These guys and their ATVs looked different than what I encountered further south. They were more the thrill-seeking type of ATVers, young men, and their ATVs were more diverse, mostly lacking the roll bars that seemed standard further south. I passed a sign indicating it was the boundary between two ATV clubs: the Metallak (south) and the GNWR (north). I wondered if that explained the differences.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyZyFmFVhCV8wLzvdp7hamAKBEba2Z6_yhIFRboRDDFN3dFdtrWCc-i8F4tLrW0CcX4wyonEncqXUfCswmGJBFwMea_3G6zbjTyViwRTY-oGAA6gjrqqgWVK3egLQN3pEKXg5VI3rdVdQ/s1600/0922191037.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="996" data-original-width="1447" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyZyFmFVhCV8wLzvdp7hamAKBEba2Z6_yhIFRboRDDFN3dFdtrWCc-i8F4tLrW0CcX4wyonEncqXUfCswmGJBFwMea_3G6zbjTyViwRTY-oGAA6gjrqqgWVK3egLQN3pEKXg5VI3rdVdQ/s400/0922191037.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">ATV Club Line</td></tr>
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I could not arrive at the turn-off for Rudy's Camp soon enough, thoughtfully marked with a make-shift sign. Yay!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5l_JQ-SbnMAENd46cazdqruSIaXK_JHTrXU2uewlXNdKvyp0oclP_AAMaozO7RMWkfs7GS9KVYmnOV99fj9SANw5p8OtC3ePKAMHarT-kQfWwkTtLXQtUV0Bj21epne-zyU_drvAdSOc/s1600/0922191038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1086" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5l_JQ-SbnMAENd46cazdqruSIaXK_JHTrXU2uewlXNdKvyp0oclP_AAMaozO7RMWkfs7GS9KVYmnOV99fj9SANw5p8OtC3ePKAMHarT-kQfWwkTtLXQtUV0Bj21epne-zyU_drvAdSOc/s400/0922191038.jpg" width="271" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes!</td></tr>
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This was so much better. No ATVs followed me up the hill and I could breath once again. The ATV noise began to recede. Seems like I got off the ATV trails just in time. As I walked I reflected that I was walking the last of the trails heading north from Long Island Sound, and it was taking me to Clarksville. That's right, I was on the last trail to Clarkville. It took a day or two to get that Monkey's song out of my head.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx6Ey96OSt0J1gR2zcu-atHl_nWCiYntBuLsdsPFmiGZvYDSyl05Elzmm71s8YP3fFgFC7alomDv8xykfzVt8X4B70lQqgjDDCfkiEFuhIaemJSkcLRbkK5VINVg6h_48adSjsFWSlSDQ/s1600/0922191057_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx6Ey96OSt0J1gR2zcu-atHl_nWCiYntBuLsdsPFmiGZvYDSyl05Elzmm71s8YP3fFgFC7alomDv8xykfzVt8X4B70lQqgjDDCfkiEFuhIaemJSkcLRbkK5VINVg6h_48adSjsFWSlSDQ/s400/0922191057_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Road to Rudy's Campground was much quieter and less dusty</td></tr>
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The spur to the campground was nearly a mile, mostly uphill, but eventually I saw the RVs and turned into the campground. I'd gone in the back way and didn't see an office, but there was an older woman there cutting back a bush, so I asked her for directions. Her name was Mary. She dropped what she was doing and walked me over to her daughter, who owned the place. I paid her $25 and got my choice of being in the lawn near the pond or back by the bathhouse. I chose the pond of course.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi55-T2wNH9EdRSsFUNJf85dJuQ4GIOEPRFd1qBe5Jp75ESD1CMiyiRRIrbsD92_Gkf3dFohAE5XiJKxKgUs6xlzLOjCYJcM7wGn9hs80kq0iTLMraS8sx8X5bfKC72GlxEUQLLTwKcWIo/s1600/0922191144.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi55-T2wNH9EdRSsFUNJf85dJuQ4GIOEPRFd1qBe5Jp75ESD1CMiyiRRIrbsD92_Gkf3dFohAE5XiJKxKgUs6xlzLOjCYJcM7wGn9hs80kq0iTLMraS8sx8X5bfKC72GlxEUQLLTwKcWIo/s400/0922191144.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rudy's Cabins and Campground in Clarksville</td></tr>
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It was around noon and my hiking day was already over. Seemed ridiculous, but the next legal camping area was another fourteen miles. I would just have to suffer the agony of hanging out at this beautiful pond all day in the sun.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Super nice bathhouse for the spoiled backpacker. </td></tr>
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Mary brought me over to the luxurious bathhouse. Wow. This is a whole different kind of backpacking that I could get used to. We had a nice conversations about all kinds of things like the Cohos Trail; the recreational-ATV industry (she said I'd be in the clear once I got to the First Connecticut Lake); otters in the pond; and local fudge. I mentioned that my husband would be up in a few days and that we liked historical sites. She said she was a history buff and retrieved some articles about the local history, including a brochure about the Indian Stream Republic. The Republic was the area northwest of Route 3 (Pittsburg) that was in dispute by the U.S. and Canada for a long time, leading to some rather independent inhabitants. In 1832, they claimed their own republic. Live free or die! That lasted for eight years, when they finally agreed to pledge allegiance to the U.S.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A great place to watch the otters and loons on Clarksville Pond</td></tr>
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I spent a lot of time watching the loons and even some otters in the pond. The otters were way out there, but they were definitely otters. Also endured another hot shower and discovered that if I sat at the bathhouse table in just the right spot, I could charge my phone while getting a wifi signal. Hot showers and wifi while backpacking! What is the world coming to?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Goodnight, Clarksville Pond</td></tr>
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The only downside to the campground was that the spot I chose was opposite an open garage door where a table saw and hammer were being used all afternoon. So it was pretty noisy until the work was done in the evening. <br />
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Clouds started to blow over Clarksville Pond as night fell. The forecast for the rest of the week was pretty unsettled and the warm, dry spell was over. Well into the night I could still hear ATVs on the trails off in the distance, along with the loons. The club rules say the trails are closed at night, but the rules didn't seem too important in these parts. Perhaps a reflection of that old Indian Stream Republic attitude? </div>
Teresahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04628471774296555013noreply@blogger.com0Clarksville Pond, Clarksville, NH 03592, USA45.0014596 -71.39411059999997644.9986526 -71.399153099999978 45.004266599999994 -71.389068099999974