Alexandersmap

    Tag: White Mountains

    • The Point of Intersection

      “When two or more lines meet at a common point, they are known as intersecting lines. The point at which they cross each other is known as the point of intersection.” — Cuemath

      Do you believe in coincidence? Last week while driving north from New York I saw a billboard for Heaven’s Door American whiskey, which was co-created by Bob Dylan. Literally the next song on the radio was Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door, which was either algorithm trickery applied to SiriusXM for the benefit of the few drivers listening to that exact channel in that exact spot at that exact time, or more likely, coincidence. It was a notable (to me) moment on an otherwise normal drive.

      A few weeks back, while hiking in the White Mountains, I happened to look up at the exact moment the two sons of a close friend were descending from Mount Monroe. I recall seeing them out of the corner of my eye on the summit, but didn’t register that these were two people I knew quite well until I lingered a beat long enough chatting with another hiker to see them at that moment. This was our point of intersection on our individual trips around the sun.

      We all have these crossing points in our lives, running into someone we haven’t seen in years at a seemingly random place. We also have the just-misses, where we realize later that we were at the same place as someone else but never saw each other. Do we apply special meaning to one event, and another to the non-event? What do we make of coincidence when we bump into it?

      One way we might see it is to look at a trail map. Each trail eventually intersects with several others as it meanders on its way. Perhaps the individual trails bring you to entirely different places, but for that brief moment they’re the very same place on their point of intersection. Another step on either trail and that point is behind you, but if particularly notable we can still recall it for the rest of our hike. Meaning is derived not from the intersection but in what we feel about it in the moment.

      Each of us is charting our course through our individual lives, with a definite starting point and an uncertain end point. Our paths intersect at frequent or infrequent moments entirely based on fate. I once knew a married couple who met by chance as the future husband was moving a mattress and rested a beat longer than he might have on the sidewalk. The future wife made a comment and that point of intersection turned into the same path for the two of them. For them, that point of intersection became a starting point. I met that couple exactly once in my lifetime, and I don’t recall their names, only the story and one other thing: They were big Bob Dylan fans and even used one of his songs as their wedding song. I wonder what ever happened to them, but I bet I know what their favorite whiskey is.

    • A Hike Up the Ammonoosuc Ravine Trail to Mount Monroe and Mount Washington

      There haven’t been a lot of hiking blog posts this year as there simply haven’t been a lot of hikes. Similarly, there haven’t been a lot of waterfall visits or posts either. Life sometimes has other plans for us. So imagine my delight when I could combine two 4000 footers with one of the highest rated waterfalls in New England. You might day we hit the trifecta, but we didn’t stop at three amazing experiences. On a spectacular October day after a day of heavy rains, we were set up for quite a day in the White Mountains.

      That heavy rain factored in to where we parked and which trail head we started from. The easy button on this day was to pay the fee for parking at the Cog Railway parking lot and hiking up the Ammonoosuc Ravine Trail. This is a relatively easy trail to warm up on, until you hit the gem pool and begin a steep incline. This was a workout for this author, recently celebrating long streaks of 10,000 steps on flat land and thinking that translated into better fitness, but it was a small price to pay for the spectacular views of falling water and, once above tree line, the vistas from Mount Monroe and Mount Washington. Ironically, my Apple Watch died halfway through the hike and my streak of 10K steps “ended” on a day I did far more. Go figure.

      The Ammonoosuc Ravine Trail offers plenty of opportunity to see falling water. The Gem Pool is a lovely spot with a 35 foot waterfall right on the trail and impossible to miss. Further along, there’s a side spur that features a more stunning view of a 600-700 foot cascade that was roaring on this particular day. Some blown-down trees partially blocked the spur trail but it was a small investment in time for an incredible view. Talking to one hiker as we came back to the main trail, I mentioned that it was totally worth the side trip. He politely ignored me and continued his hike up to Mount Monroe. I wondered, how many incredible moments do we miss out on when we’re so singularly focused on a goal? To use Pico Iyer’s phrase, we abdicate possibility in such moments.

      The trail eventually brings you to the AMC Lakes of the Clouds Hut, closed for the season when we arrived, but offering a warm sunny spot to take a break before continuing to summit Mount Monroe. This is where serendipity stepped in, and we bumped into the two sons of a close friend as they descended from Monroe just after we’d done the same. A few minutes for either party and the encounter would never have happened. Life is full of such chance encounters when we put ourselves in a position to experience them.

      The hike to Mount Washington from Mount Monroe looks relatively simple, but that’s the White Mountains for you. The reality is a hike up a boulder field one deliberate step at a time. Some trail runners make quick work of this, for me it was an opportunity to pace myself. The two sons were soon summiting Mount Washington while I took my sweet time. My hiking buddy Tom was kind enough to wait for me now and then. Getting back in hiking shape after months away from it takes a few hikes. Resuming my quest to complete the 48 4000 footers on the highest peak wasn’t reckless (Washington is relatively easy compared to some lower peaks), but it was bold.

      On this particular day, the Mount Washington Observatory was celebrating its 90th birthday with tours of the weather station. This was a wonderful opportunity to see what happens behind that door, and literally top the experience off with a climb to the weather observatory itself, the highest point you can stand on in New England, and have a look around. Opportunities like that don’t come along often, and it was another moment of serendipity on this day of days.

      If this all sounds like it was too good to be true, well, I still had to pay penance for the audacity of hiking two of the highest peaks in one day. That price was paid in the form of a pair of boots that weren’t up to the task, making the descent rather painful, and with some cramping in the thighs as the finish was just in sight. There were lessons learned on this day: Don’t ever go on a hike unprepared for the things you’ll put yourself through, and always have the best boots available to help finish the job. If there’s a positive lesson, and you’ve no doubt picked up on it already, it’s that putting yourself out there pays dividends in experience both challenging and inspiring. We may live a grander and more full life simply by moving towards it.

      Upper Ammonoosuc Ravine Falls
      Gem Pool, Ammonoosuc Ravine
      Mount Washington from Mount Monroe. Looks close, doesn’t it?
      Mount Monroe
      Lake of the Clouds with Mount Washington rising above it all

    • The Art of Packing for a Winter Hike

      Contingencies. I pack for contingencies. Most of it stays in the bag, bulging against the sides, weighing the pack down directly onto the hip belt, as designed, and a bit on the shoulders, as is the way. First aid kit, extra warm clothing, extra food, and, it turns out, just enough water for this eleven mile trip. Snow demands micro spikes, but also snowshoes. Mine spent most of the day strapped to my backpack, but I gave them a try for about an hour of hiking before strapping them back on the pack. The compressed snow and narrow trail made wearing them more hassle than salvation. Sometimes you try out your contingencies and realize that you were better off with the original plan. But I do love those heal lifts on steep inclines.

      It was -4 degrees Fahrenheit at the start of my hike this morning. Most layers packed as contingencies went right on the body for the start of the hike. Snow has a way of being crispy and slippery when you dip below zero. And the trail we started hiking wasn’t the same trail we descended when the sun rose and warmed temperatures into the twenties. Having the right footwear and accessories is essential when you see swings in temperatures like that.

      Still, for all the contingencies planned for, most everything stayed in the pack. Sleeping pad, extra layers, way too much food, all of it mocking me on the steepest parts of the incline and for most of the descent. But as soon as you don’t pack it you know what’s going to happen. Yeah, contingencies, especially in winter, must be a part of your kit. You’ve got to have a winter pack that can handle all the extra stuff, provide tie downs for the snowshoes, and remain an afterthought for the duration of the hike. For day hikes I’ve settled on an ULA Photon pack, which offers everything I need and the space for those extras.

      Winter hiking in New Hampshire offers plenty of beautiful moments. Moments that serve as exclamation points on the trip and in your life. But winter can offer up stunning beauty and calamity quite rapidly in the White Mountains. Mother Nature doesn’t care about your feelings. You must be prepared for whatever she throws at you. And that’s what contingency packing is for. Sure it mocks you when it never gets used, but it also assures you that it will be there for you if you need it.

      The next blog post will cover the actual hike. Memorable, incredibly clear, and two more 4000 footers checked off. Stay tuned, there’s a lot to cover.

    • White Cap

      “I am in love with Ocean
      lifting her thousands of white hats
      in the chop of the storm,
      or lying smooth and blue, the
      loveliest bed in the world.”
      – Mary Oliver, Ocean

      I anticipate a white cap day on Buzzards Bay as a Nor’easter rolls through. For now the bay is restless but content to let the rain fall in abundance to its surface instead of rising up to meet it. For the march of thousands of white hats the current and wind must be more contentious than this. It will come in time, as it always does on Buzzards Bay.

      Nor’easter days are meant for hunkering down, catching up on reading and sipping hot beverages. On Cape Cod the storm will bring heavy rain and high winds. The salty water will surely rise to greet her fresh visitors. I’m a visitor myself; like a river forever moving between the mountains and the sea. I want to leave the comfort of the warm house to walk on the beach. You don’t come this far to look at it from afar. For I’m mostly water, shouldn’t I rise up to meet it too?

      Up in New Hampshire all this water will mean white hats of a different kind, with heavy snow in the mountains and clever swirls of white donning posts and mailboxes in the lower elevations. I’ll welcome the grace of snow-packed trails covering the ankle-breakers when I return to the mountains. Whenever that might be – I really don’t know. But they’ve heard my silent promise to return. We have unfinished business, those mountains and me.

      I laugh when I read polls asking where you would want to live forever. How do you choose between the mountains and the sea? Its a Sophie’s Choice question; asking one to pick between a mountain waterfall and the crashing surf. Instead I look to the Abenaki who moved for generations between the White Mountains and ocean fishing villages. They didn’t choose one over the other, they chose a life in between. And that’s where you’ll find me too.

      So today as the white caps rise, I’m reminded of the Mary Oliver poem above. I’m on the very edge of that in between for this Nor’easter, and the chop of the storm has begun. Who’s up for a walk?

    • The Yin and Yang of New Hampshire and Vermont

      “She’s one of the two best states in the Union.
      Vermont’s the other. And the two have been
      Yokefellows in the sap yoke from of old
      In many Marches. And they lie like wedges,
      Thick end to thin end and thin end to thick end,
      And are a figure of the way the strong
      Of mind and strong of arm should fit together,
      One thick where one is thin and vice versa.”

      – Robert Frost, New Hampshire

      New Hampshire and Vermont are Yin and Yang.  Almost flipped mirror images of one another, as Frost describes.  The people are similar in so many ways, and different in so many other ways.  Generally, Vermont is a “blue state” while New Hampshire is a “red state”, traditionally voting Republican (much to the chagrin of Vermont and Massachusetts).  New Hampshire has a certain active principle, Live Free or Die vibe going, while Vermont embraces a more receptive, Freedom and Unity vibe.

      The Connecticut River defines the border between the two, as determined by King George III in 1763. Vermont didn’t exist back then, the land was deemed New York’s. But that didn’t last very long; about the time it took for New York to try to collect taxes from the people there. Ethan Allen and the Green Mountain Boys chased the tax collectors right out and Vermont seceded as the American Revolution was ramping up. That’s a very New Hampshire thing to do! And ever since, these two states have been locked in an eternal embrace; interconnected yet independent. White Mountains and Green Mountains, conservative and liberal, two of the smallest states in size and population; wonder twins holding up the northern border and hugging each other for eternity.

    • Boulder Hopping

      When I was a kid I’d spend hours climbing on boulders, hopping from one to the next like a goat.  As I got older this tendency didn’t fade.  Instead, the boulders got bigger.  Hiking a boulder cove on a White Mountain trail is still a delight and I hope it always will be.  Perhaps the ultimate boulder hopping adventure is Muhoosuc Notch in Maine.  Once you’ve done this “toughest mile of the Appalachian Trail”, you’ll know what boulder hopping is all about.

      A similar, less strenuous experience is walking along a long jetty that hasn’t been civilized for the general population.  A jetty that’s basically a pile of rocks extended out into the water is much more interesting than, say, the Rockland Breakwater.  Both serve the same utilitarian purpose, but the secondary benefit of each is very different.  The relatively flat Rockland Breakwater allows you to look around a bit instead of constantly checking where you’re going to land your foot next.  Hopping from rock to rock can be compared to working on a jigsaw puzzle in that it requires a high level of concentration, which becomes meditative.  Another analogy might be playing chess, where you’re thinking a few moves ahead to ensure success.

      Stepping stones in a stream are another form of boulder hopping, and offers it’s own reward as well as risk.  Gauging distance between stones, the level of traction you’ll experience when you land on it and the relative stability of the stone are critical components to your overall success in staying dry and getting where you need to go.

      Ultimately the analogy of stepping stones and one’s career is overused, so I’m not going to dwell on that here.  To me the exhilaration of jumping from one boulder to the next is enough.  I’ve never come across a pile of rocks that I haven’t wanted to crawl over or hop from one to the next.  Or a scattering of boulders on a body of water that I haven’t mentally played connect the dots with to determine the best way to land on each without stepping on the same stone twice.  That’s not unlike points on a map, is it?