woodland wanderings

After completing the 52WAVs I told my husband, “No more lists. I’m just going to leisurely hike mountains with a 360 view”. He said that’s sounds like a list to him. “No more blogs”, I said. Then I told myself I wanted to remember my hikes, so here I am again.

I made a last minute decision to hike Carrigain. I looked at my map, read some trail logs, put the full-sized mattress in my car and was ready for a car camp. I checked the weather one more time. It looked great, but so did the forecast for Jefferson the week before. Coming down the Caps Ridge trail in the fog was a little hairy.

I arrived at Sawyer Pond Road at 10:30PM. This road is interesting at night; dark and narrow with drop-offs on either side. I was driving slowly when something swooped in front of my car. I thought it was a screech owl. Then another and another flew past at lightning speed. I realized they were bats. Not the small ones I’m used to on the pond in my yard, but big ones (Eptesicus fuscus) the size of screech owls. Apparently my headlights were attracting insects sending the bats into an aerial feeding frenzy.

The frenzy slowed, then stopped, as I approached the parking area. I put the leash on the ERD and took him for a walk. I looked up. The sky was clear, brilliant with stars. Three-dimensional, I reached up to touch them. I need to go camping under a sky like this. I set up my bed so I could look through my window. I fell asleep to the ERD’s snores and the star-glazed sky.

Awake and on the trail at 6:00AM, the ERD and I were ready for the hike. There were lots of mushrooms on the trail to keep me occupied. The trails were littered with chanterelles and hedgehogs. I spotted a number of Gomphus floccosus (common names: wooly chanterelle and scaly vase). It was the first time I've seen these. I collected a few and threw them into my pack. Many people eat them, however my guide books (and my mycology friends) advise against it. It won't kill you but they contain indigestible acids that have been known to cause GI upset.

Before the hike, I read a trail log mentioning a section of the Signal Ridge Trail had been rerouted, but the AMC map still shows the old route. According to the "4000 Footers of the White Mountains - A Guide and History, 2nd Edition", several relocations were made on the Signal Ridge trail in 2012. The new section follows the south side of the Whiteface Brook avoiding a potentially difficult brook crossing. When I got to this section of the trail a small arrow clearly directs you to the right, but my map and GPS told me to go left.

I ignored the arrow and continued left onto the old trail. The trail was a little overgrown, but much better than a lot of trails I've hiked and it turned out to be much shorter than the reroute. The water crossing was tame, but deep enough that the ERD had to swim part of it.

The old trail dumped me back onto the main trail. Still early, I had the trails to myself. I met only one person on the way up. A lightning fast gentleman hiker who looked like he stepped out of "The Sound of Music". He was up on the summit and on his way down by the time I hit the ridge crest. He made it look like a leisurely stroll. We talked for a bit then off he went to hike another set of mountains!

Looking up at the fire tower, I set off to hike the last stretch to the summit. This last 1/2 mile is a lot easier than it looks from the ridge crest and I quickly found myself completely surrounded by mountains. I can't imagine sharing this platform with a lot of other hikers.

As much as I love hiking alone and having a summit to myself, I always take time to chat with hikers when I see them on the trails. I had a great conversation with a couple of AT hikers finishing up the season with some peak-bagging. One was interested in mushrooms, so I gave him the hedgehogs and chanterelles I collected on the way up. They bonded with the ERD and asked for a photo-op with him.

The ERD and his new friends

I met another group of hikers taking a break before they headed up to the summit. It turns out I knew some of them from their NETC logs. It was great to put faces to the logs.

A great group of hikers

I continued to take photos of mushrooms and talk to hikers along the way. When I found myself alone again I had a sudden spark of panic when I realized I didn't recognize the trail. Even though I knew I was going in the right direction, I had a little doubting voice telling me I missed a turn and was going to end up at the top of Carrigain Notch. I stood and stared at my map. It told me nothing. I continued on. It was the rerouted section of the Signal Ridge trail I avoided on the way in. It was longer, there were log bridges and planks, it went up hill then downhill, but finally brought me back out to the little arrow sign.

One more hike completed from my list that's not a list.

An easy jaunt to the fire tower

Hedgehog Mushroom - a choice edible when cooked

The ERD enjoying the view

The arrow says Right, I go Left :)

Gomphus floccosus

I packed my bag and was ready to go until my husband noticed there was a trail of small ants walking to and from my pack. OMG, I screamed. Ants and I have a long history and none of it good. I don’t like them and they don’t like me. I tore apart my pack, took out all of my granola bars and gave any I thought were compromised to my husband. He would eat them.

I repacked it and I put it on. My pack is heavy, OMG heavy. I felt like Cheryl Strayed.

I’ve been on the Davis Path before when I hiked Mt. Crawford. No surprises here. Loose rocks, sandy dirt trail, eroded in places and steep. Halfway up the trail I reached in my pack for some granola bars… not there! I forgot to put the ‘uncompromised bars’ back in my pack. I had nothing in my pack except for the meal I planned to cook on Stairs.

Okay, what did I have? I had some orange juice in my pack. It gave me much needed energy to continue. I scanned the ground for edibles. I found an Indian cucumber, one half-ripe group of bunch berries, a lot of half-ripe blueberries and ate old Trillium leaves the entire way up.

Trillium and Indian Cucumber

Two years ago while sitting on top of Crawford, I looked across at Stairs and wondered how the heck do you get over there? I had visions of hiking deep into the valley and then straight up Stairs. This is not the case. The hike to Crawford is the steepest part of the entire hike. The Davis Path trail (it continues to the right of Crawford trail) is a beautiful, meandering, peaceful, less-traveled, remote wilderness trail. This portion of the trail was my favorite part.

I continued to scan the ground for wild edibles and missed the Parker Trail to Mount Resolution. This inattention added 45 minutes to my hike. The Parker trail is eroded, overgrown, poorly blazed, with a number of small blowdowns. When the trail opened onto the first set of ledges I had to take a minute to figure out which way to go. The views were beautiful. The trail continued through low brush, and opened up onto another set of ledges with beautiful views. A number of trail logs say there is a bushwhack to the summit of Mount Resolution. My idea of bushwhacking is obviously very different from theirs. A mild push through some brush is an overgrown trail, not a bushwhack. So, I was looking for a bushwhack.

My GPS registered 361 feet to the summit so I kept walking trying find the best place to bushwhack to the summit. I continued on until it said 168 feet away. I couldn’t imagine there was a view in this mess of trees, but I pushed through the trees with my all my gear, pine needles flying everywhere, branches snapping, spiders landing on my face, until my GPS registered 2 feet. I looked down and there was a small rock. No views, just a rock. I am surrounded by a dense thicket of god forsaken pines. I am being touched on all sides, there is nowhere to move. A wave of pure panic floods through me. Claustrophobia. Definition: an extreme or irrational fear of confined places. It took everything I had to shut it down. I pushed through, got out. Only 100 feet but it felt like forever.

Still trying to get my heart rate down, I sat on the qualifying summit and took a selfie.

51 down, 1 to go.

I got back on the Davis trail, I was hungry and tired of Trillium leaves. I drank some more orange juice. I expected some real scrambles to get to the top. I expected Carter’s Ledge, or South Baldface. Nope, just a few rocks to climb over. If the ERD was with me he wouldn’t have had any trouble darting up them.

I quickly get to the Stairs trail. There is a nice, easy to see, trailhead and tent site sign here. It is a short, beautiful, trail leading you to the Stairs. There is only one problem. I’m not the only one there.

I hear grumbling and talking. I see it’s one person talking to themselves. I’m disappointed. I wanted to be alone on the summit. My last hurrah alone. Oh well, I’ll make the best of it.

I set up my tent, made fire and cooked my food. I was ready to spend the night on Stairs.

We talk a bit, I can see he has some problems. He has difficulty speaking. But we all have struggles. Then the conversation took some turns.

I’m in pain a lot, my back. I’m on morphine for my pain.

Oh..

I grew up in group homes, they’re worse than jail.

I felt sad for him. We talk about hiking.

I have to walk everywhere; I had to sell my car. My wife has my kids, she couldn’t handle my addiction.

Oh.. Where do you live?

I’m homeless.

What do you do in the winter?

Homeless shelters don’t want me. They are worse than jail. I try to stay out in the woods. This guy let me live with him for a while, he wanted to have sex with me (he explains what kind). But I’m not gay, at all, so you know.

Oh… uhm… oh

Then I had a job but the guy fired me. He said I scared him. I get so angry from the pain. I frightened his customers. He let me go. Now I’m here.

Oh… What do you do when you get angry?

I get so angry, I have to get away from people. I scare myself.

Oh... Well hiking is good for that.

At no point did I feel threatened or frightened. He is a person, alone, trying to climb out of a downward spiral. But I didn’t know him or the depth of his history. I didn’t know what his anger triggers were. I made him some bacon and pancakes, gave him some canned milk and a packet of Starbucks coffee. I made the decision to go down.

He didn’t want me to go. He wanted the company and needed someone to talk to. He wanted me to stay. I told him my husband was uncomfortable with me staying on the mountain, alone, with another man.

Wouldn’t you be worried if your wife was on the mountain with another man?

I would be glad if she was lost alone on a mountain.

Well, I mean, if you liked your ex-wife, wouldn’t you be worried?

I guess. But now I’m going to worry about you hiking down in the dark.

Thank you. Don't worry, I'll be fine. Be well, enjoy your sunrise tomorrow.

I packed my gear and headed down as the sun set.

Another one of my fears, besides being trapped in a sea of claustrophobic trees, is hiking in dark, unfamiliar woods. Now I had 5 long miles to descend, in the dark. I was surprisingly comfortable on the narrow trails with my headlamp facing down, on the trail ahead. There seemed to be safety in the confinement of the narrow trail. I watched spiders scurry and slugs slime their way across in my lamplight. I continuously had to brush away dozens of small white moths, attracted to the light, off of my face. Their eyes reflected a shimmery gold as they darted past. They looked like fairies. It felt alien and beautiful.

A few times the lamp created fast moving shadows from branches on the trail. I’d jump and squeak like an injured rabbit but quickly composed myself and continued on. The only time I really felt the ‘lizard brain’ jitters was when the trail opened up onto sprawling ledges. I felt vulnerable from all sides. White blazes reflected the light from my head lamp leading the way. Every time I saw one, I wanted to hug the person who painted them!

At mile four I was tired and had to resist the urge to go faster. The last mile of the trail is pebbled sand with loose rocks just waiting for an errant step. I heard rustling, I stopped short and stared into the woods, looking all around, ‘lizard brain’ active again. Then I heard the barred owls, a group of them, whooping it up with their happy calls. I joined in, they called back welcoming me into their song. They stayed with me until I reached the car.

A beautiful end to a wild ride.

And then there were none.