Since there have been so many requests for an account of what I have dubbed the "Trifecta", I have decided to join the Wild West of the Blogosphere and post said account in this central location. Before I begin, I just want to express how honored I feel that so many people are interested in a skinny white boy's adventures in the mountains of New England.
Simply put, the Trifecta is my admittedly half-baked idea to summit the 3 highest peaks in Vermont, New Hampshire, and Maine (Mt. Mansfield, Mt. Washington, and Mt. Katahdin, respectively) in one weekend. After a few cursory Google searches, I estimated it would involve approximately 18 hours of driving, 40 miles of hiking, over 10,000 feet of elevation gain, and God knows how many calories. In other words, challenging, and perhaps severely testing the limits of a weekend, but ultimately doable.
Although the pursuit of Adventure, with a capital A, was the main driving force for implementing this idea, there was a more utilitarian aim as well. As a newcomer to the northern New England region, I figured this experience of climbing and camping would give me an opportunity to explore the region in a genuine, organic sort of way; an experience that could not be had from traveling interstates and staying at chain hotels.
I pictured my weekend as an amalgamation of Lewis and Clark's expedition (for the adventure aspect) and Alexis De Tocqueville's travels (for the observation aspect), aided this time of course with waterproof boots, a lightweight tent, and Rand McNally.
So here follows what went down:
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Day 1
I think I hit practically every New England stereotype driving out of Lebanon, N.H., my home for the summer: a Caucasian driving his Subaru Outback wagon with a "Coexist" bumper sticker, listening to NPR. Alas, my Minnesota plates gave my ruse away. My first stop would be Mt. Mansfield, the tallest peak in Vermont at 4,395 feet, and a 2 hour drive from work. Surprisingly, my usual overpowering desire to Get There while traveling in a car was noticeably absent this trip. Perhaps it was my reaction to the other manic 4th of July drivers, perhaps it was the beautiful rural Vermont landscape, or perhaps it was the fact that the Ben and Jerry's ice cream factory was conveniently located right along my chosen route of travel, but, at least for this trip, the travel was just as enjoyable as the destination. After passing through Yuppieville, U.S.A (a.k.a Stowe, Vermont), I pulled into the Mt. Mansfield trailhead and began the ascent.
The trail up Mt. Mansfield reminded me of my high school geography teacher: tough, strenuous, gets right down to business, yet yields great rewards for the investment of effort. Contrary to what the omnipotent Google had told me, the summit trail was only a little over 2 miles one way (I had anticipated 4-5 miles). While not belittling the rigor of the trail in the least, the relative shortness of the ascent meant that I wouldn't have to be too worried about putting myself over the top (no pun intended) on the first day.
The summit afforded beautiful views of the surrounding Green Mountains and the Adirondacks in the distance, although the views were somewhat sullied by the crowds who had driven up the Mansfield Auto Road and then hiked the last 0.2 miles the summit. I guess you take the good with the bad.
After arriving and setting up camp at the nearby Brewster River Campground, I scarfed down a dinner of pasta, cheese, and beer, and then promptly fell asleep. All in all, a relatively relaxing first day and a good warm-up for the challenges to come.
The trail up Mt. Mansfield reminded me of my high school geography teacher: tough, strenuous, gets right down to business, yet yields great rewards for the investment of effort. Contrary to what the omnipotent Google had told me, the summit trail was only a little over 2 miles one way (I had anticipated 4-5 miles). While not belittling the rigor of the trail in the least, the relative shortness of the ascent meant that I wouldn't have to be too worried about putting myself over the top (no pun intended) on the first day.
The summit afforded beautiful views of the surrounding Green Mountains and the Adirondacks in the distance, although the views were somewhat sullied by the crowds who had driven up the Mansfield Auto Road and then hiked the last 0.2 miles the summit. I guess you take the good with the bad.
After arriving and setting up camp at the nearby Brewster River Campground, I scarfed down a dinner of pasta, cheese, and beer, and then promptly fell asleep. All in all, a relatively relaxing first day and a good warm-up for the challenges to come.
Day 2
Although I slept past my 5 a.m. planned wake up, I got my act sufficiently together to be well on my way towards Mt. Washington by 7 a.m. and was on the summit trail by 10 a.m. The trail I had picked to the top was a veritable superhighway as far as hiking routes go: wide, extremely well marked, and in excellent condition. This came at a price, however, as there was a crush of other like-minded hikers determined to summit the highest peak in New Hampshire and the second highest mountain east of the Mississippi. Yet the crowds couldn't take away from the views, which were incredible. Although New England is known for its rolling green hills and "gentle" mountains, Mt. Washington is very much an alpine environment that stands in contrast to its surroundings. I even witnessed a diehard skier playing in the last vestiges of snow remaining on the north side of the mountain. Pretty incredible for the 3rd of July in 80 degree heat.
About half of the trail to the top was above the treeline, affording incredible views of the surrounding White Mountains every step of the way. Reaching the summit (6,288 ft) was somewhat anti-climactic on account of the auto road and cog railway that ushers tourists to the top. Call me elitist or insensitive, but I'll say it anyway: the last thing I want to do after a grueling ascent is share the summit with loud tourists elbowing each other to buy the coveted "This car made it to the to of Mt. Washington" bumper sticker. But I digress.
My legs were more than happy to finally reach the flat ground of the parking lot after a steep and constant descent. Two down, one to go. After downing yet another snicker bar (and in so doing pushing the running tally to 6 for the trip), I was on my way to the final destination: Baxter State Park, where Mt. Katahdin resides.
As I drove further and further into Maine, traces of civilization became few and far between. Thoreau was right- there is something about the Maine woods that grips you. I can't articulate it, but there certainly is something. It's a place where the term "blackberry", when used in colloquial conversation, is more likely to refer to the actual fruit rather than its electronic counterpart. It's a place where Mother Nature's rules are far more salient than Uncle Sam's. It's a place where the prevailing views of "progress", that is, paved roads, expansion of business, and the pursuit of profits, is rejected as a wholly inadequate way of approaching life. It's also a place where you become acutely aware that Mother Nature doesn't give 2 sh#*'% about your comfort, contrary to what modern society will have you believe. It is at once both refreshing and humbling.
I camped by shore of a lake with an incredible view of Mt. Katahdin. In technical terms, the peak is classified as a monadnock, meaning it rises abruptly from the surrounding landscape since its composition has been able to resist erosion better than the surrounding landforms. In less technical terms, this means the mountain is amazingly majestic. Picture a rock wall rising a mile above the surrounding lakes, rivers, and pine forests. It is little wonder the Penobscot Indians christened the peak "Katahdin", meaning "the greatest mountain".
About half of the trail to the top was above the treeline, affording incredible views of the surrounding White Mountains every step of the way. Reaching the summit (6,288 ft) was somewhat anti-climactic on account of the auto road and cog railway that ushers tourists to the top. Call me elitist or insensitive, but I'll say it anyway: the last thing I want to do after a grueling ascent is share the summit with loud tourists elbowing each other to buy the coveted "This car made it to the to of Mt. Washington" bumper sticker. But I digress.
My legs were more than happy to finally reach the flat ground of the parking lot after a steep and constant descent. Two down, one to go. After downing yet another snicker bar (and in so doing pushing the running tally to 6 for the trip), I was on my way to the final destination: Baxter State Park, where Mt. Katahdin resides.
As I drove further and further into Maine, traces of civilization became few and far between. Thoreau was right- there is something about the Maine woods that grips you. I can't articulate it, but there certainly is something. It's a place where the term "blackberry", when used in colloquial conversation, is more likely to refer to the actual fruit rather than its electronic counterpart. It's a place where Mother Nature's rules are far more salient than Uncle Sam's. It's a place where the prevailing views of "progress", that is, paved roads, expansion of business, and the pursuit of profits, is rejected as a wholly inadequate way of approaching life. It's also a place where you become acutely aware that Mother Nature doesn't give 2 sh#*'% about your comfort, contrary to what modern society will have you believe. It is at once both refreshing and humbling.
I camped by shore of a lake with an incredible view of Mt. Katahdin. In technical terms, the peak is classified as a monadnock, meaning it rises abruptly from the surrounding landscape since its composition has been able to resist erosion better than the surrounding landforms. In less technical terms, this means the mountain is amazingly majestic. Picture a rock wall rising a mile above the surrounding lakes, rivers, and pine forests. It is little wonder the Penobscot Indians christened the peak "Katahdin", meaning "the greatest mountain".
Day 3
I was on the summit trail by 8 a.m., although even during this relatively early hour I was drenched with sweat within 10 minutes. It was going to be a scorcher. "Mount Katahdin" actually refers to the aggregate of 3 mountains all connected by a common ridgeline: Pamola Peak, Baxter Peak (the highest of the peaks and therefore designated as the summit at 5, 268 ft), and Hamlin Peak. I had decided to take the Knife's Edge route to the top, which meant that I would be summiting Pamola first and then traversing the aptly named Knife's Edge Ridge to Baxter Peak, the summit. Similar to Mt. Washington, Mt. Katahdin is home to an alpine environment and with its sheer rock faces looks like it would be more at home in Yosemite, CA rather than in Maine. The trail to Pamola Peak was fairly standard. Yet I think Mt. Katahdin is more about the experience surrounding the climb than the climb itself. That is, its remoteness and location in the vast expanse of the Maine wilderness makes arriving at the mountain an experience in and of itself. The climb, in my opinion, is simply icing on the cake.
After arriving at Pomola Peak and finally putting away my camera, I'm ready to begin the final 1.1 miles to the summit via the Knife's Edge. If the ascent of the mountain is the icing on the cake during the entire Katahdin experience, then the Knife's Edge is the cherry on top. It is incredible: rocky, exposed, and 1,000 foot drops on either edge should you fall. I can't think of a more fitting name for a mountain feature, although perhaps they should consider Death Ridge: apparently the ridge has claimed 19 lives since 1963. Determined not to make it an even 20, I literally crawl like a baby for portions of the route. It pays off, as I reach the summit alive, although I'm pretty sure my heart rate was well over 200 for most of the traverse.
I descend along a different ridge, the Hamlin ridge, which is much more forgiving in terms of survival rates should your feet slip. After arriving back at the trailhead, I'm still feeling surprisingly good, and decide to climb South Turner Peak as well, since it apparently offers some excellent views of Katahdin. I'm rewarded for my decision with a moose sighting a mere half mile down the trail. The moose, who I've since took the liberty of naming Millikan, was feeding on some pond weeds in a small lake along the trail. After Millikan pushes my total picture count to above 200 for the weekend, I decide it is time to move on. The South Turner Peak summit does indeed offer some great views of Katahdin, and I sit for a good 30 minutes at the top, just looking around. Needless to say, after the decision to bag an extra "bonus peak", my quivering legs nearly commit mutiny, but they hold up until the car.
I decide to stay an extra night in Baxter State Park rather than beginning the trip home since I have the next day (Monday) off on account of the 4th of July weekend.
After arriving at Pomola Peak and finally putting away my camera, I'm ready to begin the final 1.1 miles to the summit via the Knife's Edge. If the ascent of the mountain is the icing on the cake during the entire Katahdin experience, then the Knife's Edge is the cherry on top. It is incredible: rocky, exposed, and 1,000 foot drops on either edge should you fall. I can't think of a more fitting name for a mountain feature, although perhaps they should consider Death Ridge: apparently the ridge has claimed 19 lives since 1963. Determined not to make it an even 20, I literally crawl like a baby for portions of the route. It pays off, as I reach the summit alive, although I'm pretty sure my heart rate was well over 200 for most of the traverse.
I descend along a different ridge, the Hamlin ridge, which is much more forgiving in terms of survival rates should your feet slip. After arriving back at the trailhead, I'm still feeling surprisingly good, and decide to climb South Turner Peak as well, since it apparently offers some excellent views of Katahdin. I'm rewarded for my decision with a moose sighting a mere half mile down the trail. The moose, who I've since took the liberty of naming Millikan, was feeding on some pond weeds in a small lake along the trail. After Millikan pushes my total picture count to above 200 for the weekend, I decide it is time to move on. The South Turner Peak summit does indeed offer some great views of Katahdin, and I sit for a good 30 minutes at the top, just looking around. Needless to say, after the decision to bag an extra "bonus peak", my quivering legs nearly commit mutiny, but they hold up until the car.
I decide to stay an extra night in Baxter State Park rather than beginning the trip home since I have the next day (Monday) off on account of the 4th of July weekend.
Day 4
I'm finally able to get up for my 5 a.m. wake up call and re-enter the park a second time. I've decided to hike the 8 miles to Russell Pond. The Russell Pond Trail is a stark departure from the norms of the previous 3 days. It winds its way through a mountain valley along a river, and thus I get to experience hiking through the solitude of the woods rather than being blasted by winds above the treeline. Although the bugs get bad at some points, the almost impossibly clear waters of the river and the feeling of true remoteness more than make up for their nuisance. In the 16 miles of trail, I encounter only 2 people. It's an excellent way to end the weekend.
Driving home, I start thinking about future adventures to plan. I would be lying if I didn't admit that the Presidential Traverse, a 27 mile hike that takes you over 3 of the Presidential Range mountains (including Mount Washington) is high on my list. There is also a 32 mile loop in a mountain range close to the Presidential Range that I would like to attempt to run. Back in Minnesota, I would love to attempt to complete the Superior Hiking Trail in a week. For now, however, I’m simply focusing on icing my legs and more fully appreciating flat stretches of land.
Happy Trails!
Mike
Driving home, I start thinking about future adventures to plan. I would be lying if I didn't admit that the Presidential Traverse, a 27 mile hike that takes you over 3 of the Presidential Range mountains (including Mount Washington) is high on my list. There is also a 32 mile loop in a mountain range close to the Presidential Range that I would like to attempt to run. Back in Minnesota, I would love to attempt to complete the Superior Hiking Trail in a week. For now, however, I’m simply focusing on icing my legs and more fully appreciating flat stretches of land.
Happy Trails!
Mike
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