The steady cadence of rain on the hexacuba shelter roof droned on in the background as I drifted off to sleep. Smoke drifted across my field of vision, the only remainder of the lively fire earlier in the evening. Ten days of rain, and only short breaks in the clouds to lift your hopes.
As we climbed the steep walls of granite and stumbled over piles of scree we ascended Moosilauke, the first mountain in the whites. Clouds engulfed the mountain and our visibility was drastically reduced. Through the fog we searched for rock cairns to ensure that we were still on the trail.
The comfort of north Woodstock had faded completely from our minds by the time we reached south Kinsman summit. Sweat dripped from our bodies and our breathing was heavy; the heat had taken a toll on us.
The rain welcomed us on Mt. Liberty, but thankfully was short lived. With every step towards haystack mountain the temperature dropped. By the time we reached the Franconian Ridge fog had engulfed us once again and the cool breeze made us pull out our jackets from retirement. Every few minutes a gust would rip the clouds apart and through the wispy shreds we could see steep ridges bordered by sheer cliffs and wide valleys known as bowls. The trail is marked by cairns and scree walls which keep the rare plants from being pummeled by our feet.
From the summit of Lafayette we can see the presidential range looming to the northeast. In a line they stand, welcoming the brave to summit them, endure the winds and withstand the rocky ridge lines that they harbor between the peaks. Eight inches of rain make the descent of the waterfall on the north slope of Garfield treacherous. Water tumbled over the boulders, shot up in rooster tails and splattered our backs as we carefully tried to place our feet on the submerged rocks.
It seems, as we continue to climb over the presidents, that the more famous leaders were given more infamous peaks. Jefferson, Jackson and Webster offered beautiful views but required much less from us. Adams, Madison, Lincoln and Eisenhower presented us with challenging rock climbs that kept us preoccupied for hours. After a night in lakes of the clouds hut,and scrubbing dishes for compensation, we ascended Washington. At the summit the wind was whipping our clothes and my body was constantly off balance. We were warned of the extreme conditions of this summit, and how it had taken 150 lives over time, but thankfully our experience was cloudy at the worst. The open views and unprotected ridge lines continued through the newly experienced heat. After lunch at Madison springs hut with Moose, Wideload, Giuseppe and How 'bout we flew down to Pinkham notch and headed into the last refuge of New Hampshire, Gorham. The presidential range is unique, beautiful and dangerous; Undoubtedly it is the most wonderful place I have ever been.
No comments:
Post a Comment