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!

BATTLE OF COACHING HOUSE CROSSING: PIKEMAN'S LAMENT

The Meanderer's dragoons and trotters facing off against Byron's pikes on the edge of town.

In this post, dear readers, we provide a modest battle report on a recent game of Pikeman's Lament hosted by friend and fellow club-member Ralph.  This was a smallish game intended as another learning affair.  Our group discovered--and had much discussed--Pikeman's Lament during the pandemic.  Given that several of us already had healthy pike and shot/ 17th century collections on hand, we were primed and ready to give PL a go.  With us now emerging from lockdown and doing face to face gaming again (huzzah!), we are moving ahead with those plans. 

 

The premise for this particular game was a fight for control over a small town at an important crossroads. This game also provided a kick start to the in-game careers of the respective player/officers involved.  My PL alter ego, Hauptman Angus Carling-Grolsch (hats off to Ray for the inspiration for the moniker), is a martial adventurer of mixed lineage, with appropriately mixed loyalties, who has an old wound which gives him a head start on honour points but makes him vulnerable to getting clocked by a "lucky blow."  The two sides contesting the town of Coaching House Crossing this day were composed of two companies per side, each led by an officer/player and consisting of 14 points. George and I found ourselves in Catholic pay opposite the (ostensibly) Protestant companies of Byron and host Ralph. Questionable allegiance to respective dogmas aside, our worship of the Thaler and theirs of the Guilder gave us reason enough to shoot at one another.  As an added bit of flavor, there was a notary to the Saxon Elector quartered in one of the town buildings--the officers of the winning side would get to pick buildings to search, with the one finding him gaining extra honour points. In this post, as usual, you may clix pix for BIG PIX.

 

On the Imperial left, George's "dragoon" company consisted of two units of Croats and one of veteran Croats (three "Dragoon" unit types in PL parlance).  He was opposed by Ralph's "shot" company consisting of three shot and one commanded shot units. So this wing presented an interesting experiment in single unit-type companies. Early on, George's veteran croat failed a morale test (his morale check die rolling was atrocious all night), which wrong-footed his maneuvers from then onwards. For his part, Ralph skillfully held off George's flanking attempts, using the range and firepower of his shot to keep the Croats at bay.  His commanded shot unit, however, had taken up an advanced post and found out the hard way what kind of damage the Croats can dish out if within striking distance. 

In contrast to the single unit-type companies of Ralph and George, on the Imperial right, I had put together a mixed company of veteran dragoons, trotters, and two units of commanded shot. I was opposed by Byron's company consisting of a balanced force of two raw pike and two shot units.  Byron's officer had the "Lion of the North" trait, which would have allowed him to re-roll two failed attack dice--which neither of us recalled until after the game (hence the "would have").  We did not play with the random events table (I should add)--we found that the activation tests (along with ending a player's phase when failing) and other variables in the system (like the chance for low morale rolls to cause units to go "poof"--which did happen--and of lucky blows offing officers) provided more than enough variability without adding another layer of foolery. I don't have many pictures of the action (I wound up playing vs picturing), but in summary, my commanded shot skirmished back and forth with Byron's shot units while my dragoons and trotters whittled down Byron's pike with fire. In the mid game, Byron did hit my trotters in melee after one of my early caracole attempts left it standing within striking distance of one of his pike blocks (we both passed morale and bounced).  I have to say that General Dice was with neither of us on this wing, each of us having our share of failed activations and low-result combats. 

 

My Scottish commanded shot skirmishing against Byron's advancing shot. I brought my own figures to the game, which are individually mounted. The rest were from Ralph's superb Thirty Years War collection, which are mounted on unit bases. We found that the mounting conventions were irrelevant to game play.

 

Some of Ralph's splendid figures: Scottish shot (in Protestant pay) making their way into the town. Ralph made good use of the lockdown by producing an extensive set of stunning period buildings and town features (many of them scratch built). The town of Coaching House in this game represents but a few of them.

Having held off George's Croats, Ralph's shot company starts to slide across to put pressure on the Catholic right wing (ie, Moi!).  In the picture can be seen a few of the good burghers of Coaching House who turned out to watch the action (it being a long time since Fasching and there not being much else to do).

 

My dragoons, having received a saddle-emptying "salute" from Ralph's approaching shot, skirmish themselves backwards to shelter in the lee of the building (uncovering the trotters to the enemy line of fire: they don't call 'em "mercenaries" for nothin'). 

 

To complete the story, eventually, Byron sent one of my commanded shot to Valhalla, but in turn had a series of wretched morale checks which saw his pike units, which had been whittled down by fire, rout out of existence--and with them his officer. I was able to then send my trotters forward to follow up with a caracole that took off one of his two remaining shot units, which effectively ended the action (end game pictured above). So, this affair went to the "Catholics"--and I was fortunate enough to have searched out and discovered the Saxon registrar.  We are all looking forward to the next installment in our respective careers.

 

 Thanks to our congenial host, Ralph, and his magnificent terrain and figures, which always make for a quality gaming experience--something to savor even more so as we resume face to face gaming!

 

Excelsior!
 

 

RUSSIAN RIFLE BATTALIONS: RUSSO TURKISH WAR ERA

 

 Outpost Wargame Service Russo-Turkish War Russian Line Infantry in Firing (Kneeling and Standing) Poses: Painted to Represent Russian Rifles.

 

After the last post's brief sojourn into the "real world," we now meander back to things toy soldier.  Specifically, dear readers, I am happy to report the completion of the rifle contingent of my Russo-Turkish War Era Russian Infantry.  Although one company of each line battalion was designated as rifles--and it was not unusual for them to be converged into battalions--the Russian Army of the Period also had independent rifle battalions, which were grouped into independent rifle brigades (of four rifle battalions).  Two of these were mobilized for the Russo Turkish War, and one was assigned to the Russian Army of the South (according to OOBs in Barry's War in the East).   Here is  my study of how I rendered these units. As usual, in this post, you may clix pix for BIG PIX...

There is no definitive information (that I could find) on the uniform of the independent rifle battalions.  In general, they seem to have worn the same uniform as the line infantry, except for their distinctions (more on that in the next bit, dear reader).  These units will provide the "Jagers" of the Russian Army in my system (well, any system, really--nearly every army of this era had a corps of jager-styled infantry--and these would be the Russians').  I used figures in firing poses to appropriately set the rifle battalions apart from the (forthcoming) line infantry, which will be in advancing poses.  

The Ray Lucas piece on the Armies of the Russo Turkish War in Miniature Wargames #20 provided a hint on the rifle uniforms, saying that the "men of the rifle battalions wore crimson trimmings." I translated this into red piping on the cap bands and epaulettes--consistent with the fashion of the era for jagers. I also included a red stripe on the trousers, a distinction that I thought not inappropriate for these special troops. Like my my earlier Bulgarian Legion and forthcoming Russian line infantry, these troops are in winter (green) trousers.  Most of the examples found online of RTW Russian infantry amongst fellow gamers has them in summer white trousers with green blouses.  Those look fine, and that will be the look of my Russian Guard infantry, but I very much like the look of the green over green for the line. 

The new Rifle Battalions, plus pickets, join the Russian Army establishment.  Given that these were unfamiliar figures, it was rather slow going at first.  But I now know my way around them and painting will be more efficient going forward (relatively speaking), which is a good thing since the next project will be the BIGGEE...

...a batch of 58 figures forming the Russian line infantry. Good thing I just retired 😜

 

Excelsior!