As regular readers of this blog know, every Columbus Day weekend, Andrew and I have managed to eke out some type of mountain hike or climb, going back almost two decades, even before Andrew entered his high school era.
Some of the hikes have been legendary, such as the now-infamous Mount Moosilauke climb of 2020, a day still spoken only in whispers by those who experienced it. They say mountains do strange things to a man? That particular mountain defined even Stranger Things.
We try, whenever possible, to notch a different notch every year, just to take in the wonders of the peaks of New England.
This year's destination was Mount Kearsarge in Warren, New Hampshire, and joining us for this year's trek was Katie, who was born for outdoor exploration, and Barry, who was born to run. This day, though, unlike two other nuts we saw on on the mountain, there wouldn't be much running in Barry's outing.
We got an early start, as we normally do, and thankfully in this case, as the early morning hours provided the best sunshine on the day.
Some fun facts about Mount Kearsarge as you scroll through some of our pics from the day:
The mountain's name evolved from a 1652 rendering of the native Pennacook tribal name for the mountain, Carasarga, which suppposedly meant "notch-pointed mountain of pines."
The mountain is accessible from several starting points, and due to a slight mountaineering error by ye humble mountaineer, that ended up with us coming through the Warner side of the mountain.
Why does that factor into this particular story? Because after driving up the scenic Kearsarge Mountain access road to the small parking lot, that left us with only a half mile climb to the summit, something we accomplished in less than half an hour.
The sun was still shining, but the clouds were starting to roll in. More on that later.
From the summit, you literally have a 360 degree view of virtually all of the White Mountains, and to the south, eventually, the city of Boston.
Andrew and I, just trying to figure out what's what in the presidential range behind us.
The tradition continues.
Fire engulfed the top of this mountain in 1796, leaving the rockface bare still to this day.
Barry, psyching himself up for the next two-thirds of our hike this fall day.
Besides being absolutely enraptured by her surroundings when she's out in nature, Katie always manages to catch some stunning pics, regardless of the subject matter.
Realizing we had gypped ourselves out of a true climb, we decided to take on the double trail stretch I had initially planned on using, accessing the mountain from Wilmot.
For this stretch, we needed to descend on the Barlow trail to get back to the main parking area below.
Our resident hobbit, Katie, always aware of her surroundings, wisely opted to get off the road.
Good thing, too, because the ringwraiths weren't far behind.
It wasn't the bridge of Khazad-dum, and I'm pretty sure Katie would have let anyone pass if they needed to. Except a balrog, of course.
The Barlow Trail is named after Noel Holland Barlow, an Alberta-born fitter who was honored by city leaders after the acclaimed soldier Douglas Bader refused a street naming in his own honor and suggested Barlow instead.
We're still smiling here, because we're still working our way down on the Barlow trail.
Those smiles would change ere long.
Once we reached the base, it was time for hydration, some trail mix, some mushroom jerky (don't ask), and a quick refresh.
Then we began our climb back up to the summit again, this time via the Winslow Trail.
Emphasis on the SLOW in Winslow.
The Winslow Trail is named after Admiral John Winslow, the commander of the USS Kearsarge, which in June, 1864 sank the CSS Alabama in the English Channel in a famous Civil War sea battle.
The look on Andrew's face was one of surprised as we approached one of the steepest parts of the climb, not to mention technical.
Challenging, yes, but this is why we so love these excursions - they push us physically, mentally, and allow us to see parts of New England well off the beaten path.
Emphasis on beaten.
Not sure if they halfway marker is meant to inspire us or break us, but either way, it had the expected effect.
Katie, in her element
And then once again we were back at the summit, ergo the name of this blog post, hitting the same summit twice, with a nod to one of my favorite tv shows of all time, don'tcha know
We decided to ascend the fire tower atop the summit this second visit.
This time, however, it was sans direct sunlight, and the temps were starting to hint at the pending nor'easter set to hit New England later that night.
Don't be fooled by the warm smiles, we were freezing.
And yes, it was incredibly windy.
Barry, meanwhile, was looking for the mushroom-pickers the national park ranger told us we would find along our journey.
The man in the tower, freezing his ass off.
Look west, young man
One of several cairns along the trails, though this one is at the mountain's summit, 2,937 feet above sea level.
Our second group selfie, a few hours later, and significantly colder than our first pass through
Sadly, it was time to head back to the car and call it a day.
We ended up just shy of five miles overall for the double-summit adventure
Here's hoping there's many more mountains in our future.
We'll keep on ticking off the different mountains whenever we're able.
And hopefully, we'll all be healthy enough to continue scaling to the summits, not to mention spending some quality time with the people we love.
See you at the next summit!
No comments:
Post a Comment