NH Cohos Trail: Crossing the Kilkenny Part 2

Heading down Mt. Weeks with hobblebush crowding the trail

Day two hiking the Kilkenny and no rain! Everything started out pretty wet though (it's surprising how much heavier a wet tent is) and I took my time walking down Mt. Weeks. The trail wasn't particularly difficult, but the overgrowth and wet rocks and roots (which you sometimes couldn't see) could be deceptively hazardous.

Spinulose Woodfern covers many areas

It was a pleasant walk descending the Pliny Range in the fog. I was just about out of water and expecting a stream at the bottom in Willard Notch. Nothing. Hmmm. There was no way I could continue along the ridge without water. I needed something down here at the low point before continuing.  York Pond Trail went along the bottom of the notch and it looked like that trail might take me to a stream if I followed it down the ridge, but how far? I dug out my copied pages of the Cohos Trail  Data book, and saw I had written some notes in there from the Cohos Trail guidebook: "Cross a narrow but healthy stream in all seasons right after leaving notch." Ahh. The stream was not at the lowest point in the notch. I continued up toward Terrace Mountain and almost immediately came upon the stream.

Oh thank goodness

Nothing showed up on the trail map or the databook for this important water source up on the ridge. Good thing I jotted down those notes from the guidebook. At any rate, after my close call with water, and the bad state of important springs up on the ridge, I stocked my pack with 3.5 liters (8 lbs) and spent the rest of the day lugging that up mountains. There was supposed to be a source at Mt Cabot, but that could be dry, leaving Unknown Pond the next water source.

Terrace Mountain

Terrace Mountain was up next, part of the Pilot Range. There's a good rise of about 1000 feet, then a series of three peaks. The heavy pack filled with water slowed me down quite a bit going up the hills but eventually I got there.

Birch Polypore

Terrace Mountain was full of wet moss, lichens, and mushrooms. The ridge undoubtedly gets lots of rain and fog. Birch Polypore was growing all over some of the dead birch trees. Bits of this mushroom in the form of a necklace were carried by the famous iceman Otzi, whose naturally mummified remains were found in the Italian Alps and found to be 5300 years old. They were probably for medicinal purposes.

Old Man's Beard

There was lots of a lichen called Old Man's Beard draped over the trees at the higher elevations, lending a certain mystery to the trail, especially when it was foggy.

North Terrace

While eating a sandwich on the last Terrace peak, I spent some time looking closely at the moss and lichens growing over just about everything up there. So many different kinds.  They carpeted the ground, the trees, even the trail sign.

Moss and lichen were everywhere

There was some bear poo up there, too. Not sure what they might be eating other than hobblebush berries. There were a lot of those all across the Kilkenny.

Bear poo. Hobblebush berries?

After Terrace Mountain came the Mt. Cabot, the tallest peak in the Kilkenny and another 4000-footer. The trail suddenly became wide and well traveled and mostly dry, so the footing was much more secure. But I still had close to eight pounds of water in my pack, so it was a haul up another 1200 feet or so. I passed a young peak-bagger practically running up the trail. First person I'd seen in about 24 hours.

View heading up Mt. Cabot

I stopped at the deserted cabin near the top and hung my wet gear all about to dry in the wind while I cooked up a meal. That wet gear was heavy.

Mt. Cabot Cabin

The cabin was not locked, so I was able to check it out. Dry, but a bit musty. A few crumbs left by the last inhabitants.

Cabot Cabin

As I was heating up some water down below the cabin, a pair of bold Gray Jays, aka Canadian Jays, got in real close, hoping to find food. Yet another exotic northern species. They were adorable.  According to the Internet, Canadian Jays will eat just about anything and have been seen pulling ticks off of winter moose and tearing baby bats away from their mothers. Separating treats from humans would seem pretty simple compared to that.

Canadian Jay examines boiling water

After a good long break at the Cabin, my wet gear had dried out quite a bit, so I repacked and was on my way, continuing a bit further to the top, where the peak-baggers go. There was a good view in a couple direction. The view towards the north was a bit startling. Other than some windmills, it was green forest as far as the eye could see. This was the first time I'd been able to see north beyond Mt. Cabot.

View from Mt Cabot

My best wildlife encounter of the trip was near the top of Cabot. A grouse was on the trail just ahead, not too eager to leave the trail. It finally few up into a tree only a few feet away and patiently allowed me to take a photo with my cell phone. This bird was not like any grouse I had ever seen. I grew up seeing a lot of ruffed grouse and they didn't have a bright red patch near their eyes. This was a Spruce Grouse, the first I'd ever seen. Very cool. I noticed it wasn't very loud when it flew up startled. Ruffed Grouse explode and just about give you a heart attack. These were much quieter. Over the trip I startled up more grouse of the quieter variety, so I assume they were Spruce Grouse.

Spruce Grouse

After descending Mt. Cabot, the Kilkenny Ridge Trail climbs up over a minor peak called the Bulge, then passes a sign for a spur trail to the top of the Horn. The guidebook raved about the views at the top. What the heck. I stashed my pack and scurried (so much lighter!) up the mountain to a large boulder at the top. I was supposed to climb up the boulder to get these 360° view, but there was no way. The boulder was big and smooth and round, and at the bottom was a deep crevice so that if you slipped and fell, you would be injured and trapped in the crevice. I was hiking alone and had seen a grand total of three people in two days. Climbing the boulder alone in this isolated area would just be reckless. I pictured myself stuck in the crevice for a week. I would be like that guy who had to cut off his arm. Nope. Not gonna do it. There was still a great view from the base of the boulder, so I took some photos and started back down the mountain. Almost immediately I passed a thru-hiker coming up the hill. So maybe I wouldn't have been stuck there for a week after all.

From The Horn: Looking back at the Bulge and Mt. Cabot

After the Horn, the day was getting late. I had been hoping to make it to Rogers Ledge, but that wasn't going to happen and I stopped at the Unknown Pond campsite instead. This is said to be a popular tenting site, but it was empty except for one couple.

Unknown Pond looking at the Horn

I had expected a crowded camping area next to a pond. But the tent sites were up on a ridge and I was able to watch the sun set on Mt. Washington in the distance. It was perfect.

Sunset at the campground.

NH Cohos Trail: Crossing the Kilkenny Part 1

Southern part of the Kilkenny

I'd been really looking forward to the Kilkenny. This is the area between Rt 2 in Jefferson and Rt 110 in Stark. It's remote, full of peaks, rarely blazed, and requires backpacking. After the crazy pack of Appalachian Trail thru-hikers I got tangled up with while crossing the Franconia and Twin Ranges, I couldn't wait for some real wilderness hiking and peace and quiet.

A rainy start

Due to my schedule, I needed to start on Labor Day, which was forecast to rain all day. Sigh. On the plus side, there were only four cars in the parking lot off of Starr King Road, so I didn't need to park in the spillover area way down the road.

Heading up the well-traveled Starr King Trail

It was around 11 am before I got started, after five hours in the car, and I didn't take many pictures because it was raining and cell phone touch screens do not work in the rain. I had a rain cover for the phone, but to get a clear picture you have to pull the phone out of the cover. Then the phone gets wet, and when you put it back in the plastic cover, the water is trapped in there with the phone. Something I learned.

Mt. Starr King

The trail up was probably an old bridle trail and therefore is not overly steep even though it rises relentlessly about 2500 feet. Near the top is a spring, which I was counting on, because who wants to carry excess water up a hill. There was a "water" sign at the site, thankfully, but the water was just trickling. I mean there was more water on the trail than in the spring. A father-son team came down the trail, soaked. They were the only people I saw all day.  I filled up on water, ate a sandwich, and continued on up.  Mt. Starr King had no view in the rain, then the trail climbed more gradually to Mt. Waumbeck, a 4000-footer.

Mt Waumbek summit, a 4000-footer.

At the summit of Waumbeck, the big wide trail came to an abrupt end. I guess that's as far as most people go. They come up to bag their 4000 foot mountain and then head back down. I cast about looking for a way to continue on, and saw a faint path through the trees. I tried it out, hoping it wasn't some pee path.

The Cohos Trail via the Kilkenny Ridge Trail

The path was faint as it ran through dense ferns. Could this be the trail? There didn't seem to be any other, but it was so overgrown, I had my doubts. I pulled out my phone and checked the Maps.ME app, where I had loaded a couple tracks for the trail. Yup. This was the trail. I was happy to have the gps track on the phone while hiking some of the more remote sections of the Cohos. It gave me peace of mind.

Checking to see if I was on the trail. Yup.

You'll notice there are two tracks on the screenshot. The darker one was crudely digitized from the trail map, but it's good enough to see if you are way off track. The brighter red line is a real gps track from a hiker. Very helpful. The trail continued on through the rain and thick vegetation. I went slow, careful not to twist an ankle on the hidden wet rock and roots under the ferns and hobblebush. There were a few parts where the overgrown path headed straight for a solid wall of small spruce, like little Christmas trees. Could this be correct, or did I miss a turn? I put my arms out front, leaned foreward, and bulldozed my way through the trees. After punching through the fortress of drippy spruce, the trail tread reappeared. OK, then, so that's how we do things up on the Kilkenny. Carry on!

Moose poop on South Weeks

After Mt.Waumbek, there are three more peaks up on the Pliny Range: South Weeks, Middle Weeks, and Mt. Weeks. You never drop down below elevation 3,000. On South Weeks, or maybe it was Middle Weeks, it stopped raining for a bit, and the sky brightened. So I finally got a brief glimpse of a view through the fog and few pictures. At this point my phone gps claimed I was back closer to Mt. Waumbek that I thought. It was very disheartening, but I studied the contour lines of my paper map and decided, no, I had definitely gone up and down South Week. My phone was wrong. Pretty sure the water screwed up the gps reception. These tools can be great, but they are no replacement for your own brain.

Brief clearing 

I was getting chilly at this point and it started raining again. Rain had seeped through my rain gear even though I gave it a fresh coating of waterproofing, and my clothing underneath was damp, but I didn't want to put any extra clothing on at that point. Best to keep the clothing dry. I was looking forward to getting to the top of Mt. Weeks, where the guidebook mentioned most people camp if they start after noon. On the way up, I looked for an important spring, but it was bone dry. Not good. Rather ironic, considering all the rain. I still had water, though, and it would due.

Sarsaparilla growing on a stump

I got to the tenting spot around 6 pm.  There was a little side trail marked with a pile of rocks leading to a grassy spot. Perfect. By that time, it had stopped raining again, and I was able to set my tent up and get out of the wet gear. The nice dry clothes and a sleeping bag felt wonderful. But it started raining again before I could hang my bear bag. Drats. It was after dark before the rain tapered off, though still dripping heavily from the trees, when I dashed out with the bear bag and tied it horrible to a nearby tree. At least it wouldn't be in the tent. I have a kevlar bag that bear supposedly cannot open, even if they can crush whatever is inside, and an "odor-proof" plastic bag inside that, so hopefully it would be OK in the morning. Seemed more important to get back in the tent and stay dry than perfectly hang the bear bag.

Mt. Weeks tenting area

Although my clothes were dry, my hair was soaking wet. How did that happen? Well, I forgot that my baseball cap was cotton. Even though it was under a rain coat hood, the cotton brim wicked the rain from the front of the hat to the back, and from there the water proceeded into my hair. I had no idea this was happening until the end of the day. Guess I need a different hat.

NH Cohos Trail: Jefferson Road Walk

Some early fog over the former Lake Coos.
Pretend the fog is lake water.

A four-mile road walk would not normally deserve its own post, but the sky had finally cleared to reveal the surrounding mountains and the scenery was spectacular.  I had saved this little walk for the morning of my departure so I could stretch my legs before the long drive back to Connecticut. We did see some alarming fog down in the valley on the drive over, but it dissipated quickly in the sun and wasn't a problem.

Back at the Colonel Whipple Trailhead on Whipple Road

This broad plain was once the bottom of a glacial lake called Lake Coos (pronounced COE-oss), which was a finger of the vast glacial Lake Hitchcock.  I'm used to hearing about Lake Hitchcock within the context of Connecticut glacial history and was surprised to be reminded that the lake extended this far north. The glacial sediments filled in the lake bottom and left it pretty flat.

Walking along the bottom of old Lake Coos was a reminder that my journey up from Long Island Sound was veering back to the Connecticut Valley. The New England Trail had followed the trap rock ridges that cut through the Connecticut Valley in Connecticut and southern Massachusetts, then had climbed out of the narrowing valley and headed into the eastern uplands. After traveling over Mt. Monadnock, Sunapee, and the White Mountains, I was back in the Connecticut River Valley. The river had never been that far away.

The Cohos Trail would eventually arrive at the First Connecticut Lake, the source of the Connecticut River. From the Sound to the Source.

Geese below the Kilkenny

It was a gorgeous walk along Whipple Road. The fog was rapidly lifting and dissipating. In the fields where turkey were feeding the previous day, there were now geese.

Mt. Washington (right) with Mt. Jefferson to the left

The Presidential Range was in the clear finally.  The peaks of the Killkenny were up ahead. And nearby Cherry Mountain was in the rearview mirror, so to speak.

Israel River

The Cohos route takes a left and heads north along Rt 115A. It's a nice walk. Traffic was light.

Hundreds of brave Amber Snails

In the lowest area there were hundreds of land snails covering the road shoulder. And many smashed shells. I believe these are Ambersnails, which like damp fields and can become very abundant.

Hello.

After a good walk through the farmland and a smattering of homes, I came to Waumbek Golf Course. My husband was playing there, but I couldn't see him. We originally had tried to get a room in a nearby Bed & Breakfast that bordered both the Cohos Trail and the golf course, but they were full. That's OK, we liked our room in Twin Mountain with the view of Mt. Garfield.

Waumbek Golf Course

The land rose up a bit here, offering excellent views south past Cherry Mountain. I could see Mt. Garfield and Lafayette, and even the Kinsman Range. Maybe Moosilauke, not sure. All the mountains I had just crossed over.

L to R: Cherry Mtn, Garfield & Lafayette, then the Kinsman Range

I had been to the general store the previous day and had no need to walk along Route 2, so I took right onto a narrow gravel road opposite a small cemetery. We had driven down the road (which appears on Google Maps as Pool Road) while spotting my car.

There's a shortcut at the cemetery

Pool Road turned out to be a very good option if you don't need to stop at the General Store. It completely eliminated the walk along busy Rt. 2 because it comes out opposite Starr King Road, which the Cohos follows. There was a parking pulloff about halfway up Pool Road, which I think this is the parking referred to by the signs at the trailhead up ahead that say something like "additional parking across Rt 2."

Waumbak Golf Course and Cherry Mountain from Pool Road

The main entrance to the golf course is via Pool Road, and I ducked in to see if I could spot my husband playing, but he was on some other part of the course. A quick walk across Rt 2 and up Starr King Road, and there was a designated parking lot in the woods for hiker parking. It was just about full and it was only 9:30 am. This was something to think about for the next trip up, since I would be backpacking and arriving from Connecticut later in the morning. 

NH Cohos Trail: Pondicherry Wildlife Refuge

Slide Brook Trailhead on Rt 115

Day two of slackpacking began on the Slide Brook Trail, the first of four trails the Cohos follows through the Pondicherry Wildlife Refuge. Slide Brook is presumably named after the big two mile landslide that started up on Owls Head and came to rest somewhere in this low plain where it buried a farm.

Bear!

Slide Brook Trail was largely a mowed path that meandered through lots of open fields. The goldenrod was especially vivid in through here, and there were plenty of berries.

Goldenrod

I probably should have started earlier in the morning to increase my odds of seeing a moose or something.  But who wants to wake up early on vacation?

Blueberries, which helps explain the bear.

At one point I heard some animal making a ruckus, and I recognized the sound from Thursday morning when I was still in my tent at Zealand. At the time I thought it might be a red squirrel, but the sound moved around so much that I then thought it must be some kind of bird. Turns out it was a red squirrel after all. Noisy! We only have the gray squirrels down in southern Connecticut, so I wasn't familiar with the sounds of the red ones.

Chittering Red Squirrel

The Slide Brook Trail came alongside some wet boggy areas where purple Joe Pye Weed was in bloom. The elegant spires of Black Spruce dotted the boggy areas, and feathery Tamarack (aka Larch), a conifer that turns golden and drops its needles each fall, found some footing in there as well. There's a similar European Larch that is sometimes planted in my neck of the woods, but I don't see the native one that grows in the boggy areas unless I'm up north. We had it in the north country when I was growing up, so it was nice to see.

Black Spruce Bog, with Tamarack and Joe Pye Weed

While the Slide Trail was marked with yellow, the Presidential Range Rail Trail was not. This followed an old railroad bed for a good ways, with low boggy areas on both sides of the trail.

Presidential Range Rail Trail

At one point I though for sure I saw a moose far up ahead on the trail. Big and dark. But it turned out to be a woman dressed in black walking her dog. When we passed, I didn't tell her I thought she looked like a moose. She was the first person I had seen in several miles on a Saturday morning in August. It's a quiet trail.

Joe Pye Weed thrives at the edge of low areas

A bit further on, a pair of bicyclists stopped to ask if there was anything else associated with the wildlife refuge, like some buildings or something. I said I wasn't aware of anything. The woman said, "Well, it's very beautiful anyway."

Presidential Rail Trail, the Kilkenny rising beyond

It was around that time that what I assume were sight-seeing planes started to take off and buzz over our heads. They were so loud and annoying. I arrived at the viewing platform at Cherry Pond and a series of five of the plane took off from the nearby airport and flew directly overhead at a low altitude. At that point I was sure I wouldn't see any wildlife because anything still out this late in the morning was now diving for thick brush and would stay there until dark.

Mount Washington behind the clouds at Cherry Pond

Low clouds obscured what is normally a spectacular view of Mt. Washington across Cherry Pond. Oh well.  It was still beautiful.

Cranberry Viburnum

There were a remarkable number of berries next to the boardwalk leading out to the viewing platform. Cranberry Viburnum is a native shrub that we sometimes specify for landscaping, and here it was growing wild and full of bright red berries.

Right after the viewing platform, the rail trail was approaching another railroad at right angles and the trail did a "Y". I took a right at the "Y", which appeared to be a brief shortcut, and so presumably missed the Waumbak Junction which I had read about earlier but completely forgot about while hiking. Or maybe I was looking right at it but not seeing. At any rate, the Waumak Junction was where three railroads came together and there were some railroad buildings there. This is one reason so many tourists came out to view the big landslide at Cherry Mountain in the late 1800s. It was easy to get there from many directions.

Don't miss the turn

Per the map and a few brown and yellow signs, the Cohos turned right to follow a set of RR tracks a short ways. I assumed the line was abandoned, but it turns out that trains do occasionally run. This info is written down in the guidebook, but I just didn't remember as I was walking right down the middle of the tracks. It's not like you're reading the guide while you're out there walking.

View from the Ice Ramparts Trail

The Cohos soon turned off of the tracks and became the Ice Ramparts Trail. This was pretty cool and something I'd never heard of before. The "ramparts" are a natural berm created over time when the ice in Cherry Pond breaks up in the Spring and a good wind drives the chunks up onto shore.  During the winter, the ice would have extended down into the bottom sediments, and during the spring breakup those sediments and some pretty big rocks are carried by the ice chunks and thrust up onto shore. Over the course of a few thousand years, a berm of these rocks and sediments is created. The trail followed the top of it.

Duck in Cherry Pond

I found a bench along the trail overlooking the pond and sat for awhile, hoping maybe the clouds would lift. They didn't budge. Seems like something that happens in the afternoon.

Colonel Whipple Trail

The last trail of this section, the Colonel Whipple Trail, was the longest and most remote. I don't know who Colonel Whipple was, but I love his name. I want him to have invented whipped cream, as in Whipple's Whipped Cream.

Chicken of the Woods

Ahh, there was some Chicken of the Woods, in perfect shape to be sauteed.  I had no way to do that at the motel. And I always feel guilty picking stuff along the trails. Let the other hikers enjoy the pretty orange stuff growing on the tree, and let its spores spread far and wide.

Dalibarba (Dewdrop)

Turtlehead

There were a number of bog walk sections and I started seeing a lot of moose tracks. One of the bog walk planks was broken, and there were moose tracks right next to it. Which got me wondering: Do moose ever step on the bog walks, and does that break the planks? A moose can be over 1,000 pounds. I don't think the bog walks were designed for that.

Moose tracks next to the broken bog walk

The Colonel Whipple Trail looks like a very difficult one to maintain. First, there were all the low areas, which required the bog walks and probably a lot of cutting back during the growing season. Then there was the wooded section with the blowdowns that had been chainsawed.

Blowdown Central

And finally there was the really long section through the brush that must get mowed with a towed mowing deck. The guidebook says this area had been logged not too long ago and that the trail follows a logging road, which explains the culverts. The saplings are said to be having trouble regenerating due to excessive moose browse. The brush is having no such problems, that's for sure.

This must be hard to maintain

This mowed part went on for quite a long ways. The ground was a bit lumpy but otherwise sold, with plenty of moose tracks. If I were a moose I would use the trail, too. Imagine those big beasts trying to get through that thick brush.

Getting closer to the peaks of the Kilkenny

The Colonel Whipple Trail (I cannot say that enough times) comes out onto Whipple Road (excellent), which is gravel.  According to the mileage book, this section was about seven miles. It seemed shorter.

Nice.

As I drove down Whipple Road, I saw a bunch of turkey in a field with the Kilkenny rising up in the background, and stopped to take some photos. I had decided to leave the four-mile road walk until the next morning so I could stretch my legs before the long drive back to Connecticut. And the Kilkenny might be obscured by clouds the next morning, so I wanted a photo while I could get it.

Turkey in the field along Whipple Road, the Kilkenny beyond

I then took a quick drive up to Route 2, following the street-walk route of the Cohos, to the general store in Jefferson. This is where thru hikers can buy supplies. I bought instead a slice of pizza and ate it at the little table inside. It was delicious.

Looking back at Owls Head and Mt. Martha

That afternoon we decided to take the long drive through Crawford Notch down into North Conway. It was Saturday. What a zoo. Gridlock everywhere.  But it's OK, we survived and escaped to live another day. My husband had played 18 holes at Bretton Woods in the morning. It's that place that looks like the hotel from The Shining, so I snapped a photo on the way back from North Conway. The clouds had lifted by then and we could finally see Mt. Washington looming over the famous hotel. It was quite pretty during the two seconds that we sped by.

Bretton Woods, on our way back from North Conway