A WHITE MOUNTAIN INTERLUDE

 

The Meanderer at the "Last" Summit

In this week's post, we meander into a diversion.  Taking me away from hobby activities was a brief sojourn to the White Mountains here in New Hampshire in honor of the recent milestone of my early retirement--a return to hiking the White Mountains (after a four year hiatus) combined with a stay at our favorite resort (mixing luxury with hiking: much better than camping!).  So, if you have the patience, dear reader, here is a "trip report" on the experience that I hope will prove both informative and diverting (as usual, you may clix pix for BIG PIX). 

We stayed at the historic Mount Washington Hotel, a place that we have become familiar with since it is only a 2.5 hour drive away (although it feels like another planet when you get there). In my professional life, I had been arranging an offsite faculty development retreat at this venue since 2015, so I have developed connections with the staff and enrolled in the select guest program, which allows us to take advantage of special offers and packages.  On this occasion, we took advantage of a summer stay package and also received an amazing room upgrade to a suite with a mountain view. 

 

The Mount Washington Hotel's Grand Lobby was inspired by the Grand Lobbies of the Whitestar Ocean Liners, which it evokes.  The hotel now belongs to the Omni hotel chain: they have updated it and restored it to its original grandeur.

Among many of the historic and artistic touches, the transoms and glasswork are Tiffany. 

The 1944 Bretton Woods Conference that established the IMF (International Monetary Fund and World Bank) was held at the Mount Washington Hotel: the conference room is maintained as an historic exhibit.

A grand porch wraps around the hotel, front and back, where you can be seated and served drinks and meals while you enjoy the views. Speaking of views, when we arrived on Monday, the ceiling was low, draping the Presidential range in clouds...

View to the Northeast...

...to the East...

...to the South (including our destination for the next day's hike).

While I was out on the "Alpine Garden" terrace (taking these pictures), I turned about and saw this group of Mennonite ladies. They were there only briefly and then they were gone: must have been just been passing through on a side trip to see the sights. I include this photo not only for it's own interest but because it gives a good sense of perspective: the mountain range in the distance compared to the human figures in the foreground.

The Presidential Range as seen from the hotel when the view is more clear, to include Mount Washington, highest peak in the Northeast (6,288 ft) and location of the highest windspeed ever recorded over land (231 mph).  

A video panorama taken later in the evening after the ceiling had lifted.

The view from our window to the south: the next day's destination, Mount Jackson near the "Crawford Notch" In these parts, a "notch" is what would be termed a "gap" or "pass" in other parts.  Looking at this image, you can tell how they came to be called "notches" given their steepness and shape.

Mrs Meanderer, lifting a gin and tonic during a hearty dinner at Stickney's Restaurant in the hotel--fortifying ourselves for the rigors of the next day's hike: an important part of our regimen (beats the hell out of camping!). 

One of my ongoing ambitions has been to do the so-called "48": the 48, 4,000 (+) foot mountains in New Hampshire/the White Mountains.  I have already done Mounts Washington (twice), Clay, Monroe, Jefferson, Madison, Pierce, and Eisenhower.  Having not hiked for some time, I decided that on this return to the Whites (post-retirement) we would hit the southern most peak on the Presidential range: Mount Jackson. I charted a loop that would take us up the Jackson-Webster trail and return via the Mitzpah hut (where we would have a break) and then down the Crawford path to the AMC Highland Center, just north of where we parked: a 6.7 mile loop. We have done longer loops in the past, to higher elevations, so this was not out of our range (but more on this anon, dear reader). 

The meanderer, still fresh, gearing up at the parking area across the highway from Saco Lake. Following the summer hiking rule of thumb of "up by 10 and down by 2" to avoid being caught at elevation by blow-up thunderstorms, we were on the trail by 7 a.m.  So far, so good...

A stretch of the "path" of the Jackson-Webster trail. This ruggedness is typical of most of the trails in the White Mountains--and part of the reason why many who are not familiar with the region are taken by surprise given its apparently modest elevations.  I have found that most trail descriptions for the White Mountains are deceptive: ratings differ, but what they generally call "moderate" I think any normal person would call "difficult." Most ratings for the Jackson-Webster trail called it "moderate," with only one rating it as "difficult/strenuous" (I would agree with the latter).  My first foray into the Whites taught me to respect them: it was June 6th, and we were going up Mount Washington to the Lake of the Clouds AMC hut (more on these facilities later).  It was a summer day at the trailhead, but half way up we ran into high winds, snow and sleet, and the ceiling closed down, dropping visibility to near zero (and then darkness started to fall as we progressed, making things even more interesting). Fortunately, we were prepared with the necessary gear and had researched the route ahead of time in order to continue on to the shelter.   And so this, plus the habits from my time in the Army, taught me to always have a pack with contingency kit when heading up the trails in the White Mountains.

Mrs. Meanderer taking in the view from Bugle Cliff, an early pause along our route. Saco Lake, where we started from,  can be seen in the distance.

Crossing the Silver Cascade. Things really start to get steep after this...

The Meanderer, contemplating how to navigate a "scramble" over a "small" sheer rock face (aka, "slide") on the Jackson-Webster Trail. This pictures is characteristic of the last mile of the ascent to the summit, which is increasingly steep and rugged. A "scramble" (by the way) is an ambiguous term in trail descriptions used for any place where you would need to either crawl,  use hand holds, or do something akin to rock-climbing in order to get across an obstacle, usually vertical, or where walking would not be possible. You can also see in this picture that the rock was wet after days of rain, making all the footing slippery to complicate matters.   

Looking up at a blue trail blaze marker in the last 1/8 mile or so leading to the summit: the trail goes up.  Some trail descriptions describe the last segment leading to this summit along this route as a "fun" scramble.  My experience suggests that any trail description that characterizes a scramble as "fun" should be read to mean, "terrifying" and this proved true here. I found that for segments approaching the summit I was doing something more akin to rock climbing than hiking. Much more so than I have on any other ascent I have done in the Whites, to include those rated as "difficult" (as opposed to this route, which some ratings deem "moderate").  For anyone who stumbles across this blog who is researching this route, it has been compared to the Ammoonusuc Ravine Trail, suggesting that this route is less demanding. Having done both, it is my estimate, that the Jackson-Webster route, particularly the last mile, is much more difficult than the Ammoonusuc. Take it for what it's worth. 

Made it: the summit of Mount Jackson. We met a family there who had come via the Webster Cliff Trail. The views from Mount Jackson are spectacular--when it's clear. It was in the clouds with high winds when we were here (we arrived at 10 a.m. by the way, on schedule, despite the route being more challenging than anticipated). Some folks are disappointed when they don't get a "payoff" view at a summit. I don't particularly mind.  In part this is because we are local, so it's not a high stakes investment in time and travel to get there (or come back another day).  I also find that these sorts of conditions provide another kind of payoff that is worth every bit of the effort; to me, it feels as if you had stepped out of a plane and into the clouds. 

Looking back at the summit of Mount Jackson in the clouds shortly after coming down and making our way north along the ridge enroute to the Mitzpah Hut.

Mrs Meanderer moving ahead on a relatively level segment of the Webster Cliff Trail.  In this photo you can see the wetness of the trail conditions.  It was on one of the ups-and-downs along this route that my legs went out from under me on a slick, uneven rock.  Although I avoided a major injury, I landed hard--and felt as if I had cracked a rib, which made every step from then onwards an experience (if you have every had a rib injury, you'll understand what I mean). 

Mrs Meanderer outside the Mitzpah Spring AMC Hut. We reached the Mitzpah Hut and had a welcome break, enjoying a bit of coffee cake, lemonade, and coffee, before heading out on the final leg of our route: the 2.4 mile descent along the Mitzpah Cutoff to the Crawford Path and down to the AMC Highland Center at the end of the trail. Given that I was dealing with other things, I didn't bother with any further pictures. Even given the slippery trail conditions and my rib-hobbled progress, we were back at the car by around 2 pm, completing the loop in the estimated "official" time. A decent performance, all things considered.  

We drove the short distance back to the Mount Washington Hotel, where I loaded up on Motrins to damp the rib discomfort: we cleaned up, had restorative gin and tonics, a hearty dinner, and then turned in for the night. On our last day, having arranged for a late checkout,  we breakfasted in the main dining room and spent the rest of the morning with coffee and books on the verandah (above) before making our way home in the early afternoon. 

 

This hike brought me to some new realizations. I can certainly feel a sense of accomplishment that staring at 62 next month I am still fit enough to complete a hike like this. However, I also came to recognize that it has been something like five years since I last tackled a 4,000 footer, and those intervening years are more significant than they would have been in my younger days. Furthermore, I had sustained a back injury during that time. Although I am functional in "normal" things, I found out on this hike that I can no longer manage the full range of bending, twisting, and pushing off and other physical challenges that these outings present--particularly when carrying a pack and water to get through a 7 or 8 hour trek (water is heavy!).   So, I am taking a lesson from this hike to acknowledge the limitations that Father Time has imposed. I will keep on being active, but will recalibrate and seek out hikes and experiences that don't involve these physical challenges and risks. Put another way, time to spend time on outings that don't require carrying a load and that don't hurt.  I think I can adjust to these criteria pretty easily--sort of like leaving "work" behind, I'll also be leaving "work-like" recreations behind. 

 

Of course, stays at the Mount Washington Hotel will certainly fit into these new "outdoor" parameters!

 

Excelsior!