Peaked Hill Pond
Where: Peaked Hill Pond
When: May, 1990
With: David, Lia
A hike with Lia. She'd gone with David several times in the past, but this was the first time with any of the others from the B.U.M.S. (Brotherhood of Universal Mutual Stupidity, a.k.a. the Mutually Stupid Society).
I consulted the map, looking for someplace close by, with something less than my usual Bataan Death March level of difficulty. I found Peaked Hill Pond. The trailhead was just off route 93, one exit past the Waterville Valley exit, near a motel on route 3. We found the access road easily and followed it under 93 and up a ways before it stopped at a gate, where we parked. We geared up and headed up the trail, an old woods road.
As advertised, it was an easy walk on a nice early summer day, going through old orchards and meadows. Other than a tick Dave picked up while crossing one of the meadows, there were no problems. After going through some forest, we spotted the pond to our right and made our way down to the water's edge to have some lunch. Some bugs had bothered us a bit along the trail, and they found us here also, so we didn't stay long before continuing.
We were a bit confused, since the map showed the trail on the other side of the pond, but we were still on a wide obvious trail, so we weren't worried. We followed the path up to the end of the pond, into a marshy area and then worked our way around to the other side of the pond. It was a beautiful, open wood here and we started to look for a campsite. We found a spot on a ridge overlooking the water, a few hundred yards from a good stream and set up camp.
The bugs were getting worse by this time, so we all wore headnets while we put up the tents. As soon as they were up, we dove inside for protection, first killing any bugs that had made it inside. By this time we knew...black fly season. Gathering in David's tent, we relaxed and made plans. Finally we decided to go exploring, figuring that the bugs weren't so bad when we were moving.
We planned to hike up Peaked Hill itself, hoping for views and a good, stiff, bug-banishing breeze. We worked our way back up through the woods and found a trail leading toward the hill. It vanished at the base of the ridge and we started bushwhacking up through the trees. After a steep climb, we made it to the top and started looking for some rocks we'd seen from below, looking for a view. We had no immediate luck, so Lia and I stayed while David explored. The hoped-for breeze never appeared, so we just sat there in our headnets and listened to the bugs buzz.
David returned, having found nothing worthy, and we headed back down to the camp. I went down to the water and found a couple of fishermen out in rubber rafts, fly-fishing. I'd brought my spin-cast reel, but no bait. After a fruitless search under logs and rocks, I tried to make a lure out of a hook and various things and made a few casts. No luck. The guys in the boats seemed to be doing just fine, and had a good size string each.
Finally evening came, the fishermen left, and we gathered at the camp for dinner. As darkness fell and the temperature dropped, the bugs disappeared, and we had a rather pleasant evening, eating s'mores made over a fire and watching stars from a rock down by the pond.
The next morning, I woke up first and went down to the rock to greet the day. I recall watching a hummingbird hovering in some nearby shrub. A bit later, Dave & Lia joined me. We ate breakfast down on the rock before the bugs came back out, then broke camp. On a hunch, we headed back on north side of the pond, hoping to find the trail. Near the end of the pond, we found a campsite with a boat stored nearby and a trail. Figuring we must be right, we followed the trail through the woods and came out on our original route. We had missed the cutoff on the way in. A short walk back to the car and we were on our way home.
When: May, 1990
With: David, Lia
A hike with Lia. She'd gone with David several times in the past, but this was the first time with any of the others from the B.U.M.S. (Brotherhood of Universal Mutual Stupidity, a.k.a. the Mutually Stupid Society).
I consulted the map, looking for someplace close by, with something less than my usual Bataan Death March level of difficulty. I found Peaked Hill Pond. The trailhead was just off route 93, one exit past the Waterville Valley exit, near a motel on route 3. We found the access road easily and followed it under 93 and up a ways before it stopped at a gate, where we parked. We geared up and headed up the trail, an old woods road.
As advertised, it was an easy walk on a nice early summer day, going through old orchards and meadows. Other than a tick Dave picked up while crossing one of the meadows, there were no problems. After going through some forest, we spotted the pond to our right and made our way down to the water's edge to have some lunch. Some bugs had bothered us a bit along the trail, and they found us here also, so we didn't stay long before continuing.
We were a bit confused, since the map showed the trail on the other side of the pond, but we were still on a wide obvious trail, so we weren't worried. We followed the path up to the end of the pond, into a marshy area and then worked our way around to the other side of the pond. It was a beautiful, open wood here and we started to look for a campsite. We found a spot on a ridge overlooking the water, a few hundred yards from a good stream and set up camp.
The bugs were getting worse by this time, so we all wore headnets while we put up the tents. As soon as they were up, we dove inside for protection, first killing any bugs that had made it inside. By this time we knew...black fly season. Gathering in David's tent, we relaxed and made plans. Finally we decided to go exploring, figuring that the bugs weren't so bad when we were moving.
We planned to hike up Peaked Hill itself, hoping for views and a good, stiff, bug-banishing breeze. We worked our way back up through the woods and found a trail leading toward the hill. It vanished at the base of the ridge and we started bushwhacking up through the trees. After a steep climb, we made it to the top and started looking for some rocks we'd seen from below, looking for a view. We had no immediate luck, so Lia and I stayed while David explored. The hoped-for breeze never appeared, so we just sat there in our headnets and listened to the bugs buzz.
David returned, having found nothing worthy, and we headed back down to the camp. I went down to the water and found a couple of fishermen out in rubber rafts, fly-fishing. I'd brought my spin-cast reel, but no bait. After a fruitless search under logs and rocks, I tried to make a lure out of a hook and various things and made a few casts. No luck. The guys in the boats seemed to be doing just fine, and had a good size string each.
Finally evening came, the fishermen left, and we gathered at the camp for dinner. As darkness fell and the temperature dropped, the bugs disappeared, and we had a rather pleasant evening, eating s'mores made over a fire and watching stars from a rock down by the pond.
The next morning, I woke up first and went down to the rock to greet the day. I recall watching a hummingbird hovering in some nearby shrub. A bit later, Dave & Lia joined me. We ate breakfast down on the rock before the bugs came back out, then broke camp. On a hunch, we headed back on north side of the pond, hoping to find the trail. Near the end of the pond, we found a campsite with a boat stored nearby and a trail. Figuring we must be right, we followed the trail through the woods and came out on our original route. We had missed the cutoff on the way in. A short walk back to the car and we were on our way home.
