Bishbash Falls
Where: Bishbash Falls, Alander Mountain
When: Autumn, 1990
With: Chip and Dave
As I waited for Chip and Dave to arrive, the phone rang. It was Dr. Ken Levy, in town for a visit with some friends. Chip had told him of our trip and Ken thought he might be able to convince his friends to come along. One problem though...no gear. Chip was able to supply a pack, but they were still short a sleeping bag. I volunteered one of mine and said I'd have Chip call when he arrived.
Soon thereafter, Chip and Dave pulled up. Chip and Ken talked and decided to meet at the Turnpike entrance on 495. We drove there and waited just inside the tollbooths. While we waited, a van drove through and stalled out in the middle of the road. After a few moments, we decided to help and ran out to give him a push. He seemed a bit confused, but grateful for the help. We got him off the road and ran back to the car, just in time for Ken to pull up. We talked, we gave him the bag and directions to where we were going, and then parted, he back to his friends, us off to western Massachusetts.
We went as far as Chicopee before making a stop for food. Chip and I realized about this time that neither of us had brought fuel for our stoves, so we spent some time hunting for Coleman fuel. After a few false leads, we wound up at a mall, figuring we could find someplace with a camping department. Dave stayed in the car while Chip and I hit the mall. Just our luck, the store we wanted was at the opposite end of the mall and in between was a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle live appearance. Somehow we made it through, found the fuel, and got back to the car.
On the road again and soon we were at the parking lot for Bishbash falls. We left Ken a message, still thinking he might show up. It was damp and overcast as we set out from the car. The trail almost immediately started a steep ascent up the ridge and soon we were high up above the valley. We stopped at an overlook for a break near the top.
Continuing on, the trail soon topped the ridge and leveled off. From here, the hiking was beautiful and easy, alternating between dense brush and open woods. An occasional view was nice too, though a fog had settled in, obscuring things somewhat. Every once in awhile, we'd stop and blow some notes on Chip's bugle, just in case Ken was out there somewhere, to let him know we were up ahead.
We made good time and soon were at the base of the climb up Alander Mountain. A trail crossing here seemed an interesting prospect for another day's hike, but we continued up to the top. The fog here was quite thick and there was almost no visibility. Chip pulled out his surprise for the trip...signal flares. After many debates, we finally convinced him to fire one off, though we promised to disavow any knowledge of agreeing to it. He aimed it somewhat horizontally and pulled the trigger. *BANG!* We saw it for only an instant...a red streak disappearing into the fog. Chip didn't see it at all, having closed his eyes when he fired it.
We headed down from the summit to the cabin and were delighted to find it vacant. It was a pretty nice little cabin, with a wood stove, sleeping bunks, a writing desk, some canned food, and some tools. It was pretty messy though, so we did a bit of cleaning before setting up camp. Afterwards, I went for water while Chip and Dave looked for wood. I wound up going all the way down to the site we'd used before to find water, but it really wasn't all that far away.
When I got back, I helped with the wood gathering. The area was picked pretty clean, but we managed to find one good branch and some sticks for the wood stove. It took awhile to get the hang of the stove. We smoked up the cabin a few times before we figured out the system of dampers, etc. Finally we got things settled down and started dinner. Chip and Dave split a steak, we shoved some potatoes in the stove, and I started some rice dish on my camping stove on the porch. The end result was somewhat disappointing all around, but mostly edible.
After dinner, we decided to head back to the summit in the dark and fog. The visibility was even worse, but we managed to crawl our way up and played on top, hiding from each other. Somehow we found our way back down and settled in for some sleep.
We packed up after breakfast the next morning and headed back the way we'd come, with a stop on the summit to finally see the view. At the end of the ridge, we took an alternate path leading down to Bishbash Falls. The trail dropped quickly and then stopped abruptly at a fence. On the other side of the fence was several hundred feet of sheer drop into Bishbash Gorge. An amazing sight. Sheer rock walls and a roaring stream at the bottom. We ignored the warning signs and ventured past the fence to look over the edge, then explored along the sides of the gully. We started to head around the east end and then decided to go back along another route, down the side of the gully on the south. Hanging on to a cable fence for support, we slide our way down the hill to the base of the gully at its western end. There were a fair number of folks there as we crossed the stream and headed back to the car. We found out later that Ken and his friends had gone canoeing instead and our bugle blowing was all for naught.
When: Autumn, 1990
With: Chip and Dave
As I waited for Chip and Dave to arrive, the phone rang. It was Dr. Ken Levy, in town for a visit with some friends. Chip had told him of our trip and Ken thought he might be able to convince his friends to come along. One problem though...no gear. Chip was able to supply a pack, but they were still short a sleeping bag. I volunteered one of mine and said I'd have Chip call when he arrived.
Soon thereafter, Chip and Dave pulled up. Chip and Ken talked and decided to meet at the Turnpike entrance on 495. We drove there and waited just inside the tollbooths. While we waited, a van drove through and stalled out in the middle of the road. After a few moments, we decided to help and ran out to give him a push. He seemed a bit confused, but grateful for the help. We got him off the road and ran back to the car, just in time for Ken to pull up. We talked, we gave him the bag and directions to where we were going, and then parted, he back to his friends, us off to western Massachusetts.
We went as far as Chicopee before making a stop for food. Chip and I realized about this time that neither of us had brought fuel for our stoves, so we spent some time hunting for Coleman fuel. After a few false leads, we wound up at a mall, figuring we could find someplace with a camping department. Dave stayed in the car while Chip and I hit the mall. Just our luck, the store we wanted was at the opposite end of the mall and in between was a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle live appearance. Somehow we made it through, found the fuel, and got back to the car.
On the road again and soon we were at the parking lot for Bishbash falls. We left Ken a message, still thinking he might show up. It was damp and overcast as we set out from the car. The trail almost immediately started a steep ascent up the ridge and soon we were high up above the valley. We stopped at an overlook for a break near the top.
Continuing on, the trail soon topped the ridge and leveled off. From here, the hiking was beautiful and easy, alternating between dense brush and open woods. An occasional view was nice too, though a fog had settled in, obscuring things somewhat. Every once in awhile, we'd stop and blow some notes on Chip's bugle, just in case Ken was out there somewhere, to let him know we were up ahead.
We made good time and soon were at the base of the climb up Alander Mountain. A trail crossing here seemed an interesting prospect for another day's hike, but we continued up to the top. The fog here was quite thick and there was almost no visibility. Chip pulled out his surprise for the trip...signal flares. After many debates, we finally convinced him to fire one off, though we promised to disavow any knowledge of agreeing to it. He aimed it somewhat horizontally and pulled the trigger. *BANG!* We saw it for only an instant...a red streak disappearing into the fog. Chip didn't see it at all, having closed his eyes when he fired it.
We headed down from the summit to the cabin and were delighted to find it vacant. It was a pretty nice little cabin, with a wood stove, sleeping bunks, a writing desk, some canned food, and some tools. It was pretty messy though, so we did a bit of cleaning before setting up camp. Afterwards, I went for water while Chip and Dave looked for wood. I wound up going all the way down to the site we'd used before to find water, but it really wasn't all that far away.
When I got back, I helped with the wood gathering. The area was picked pretty clean, but we managed to find one good branch and some sticks for the wood stove. It took awhile to get the hang of the stove. We smoked up the cabin a few times before we figured out the system of dampers, etc. Finally we got things settled down and started dinner. Chip and Dave split a steak, we shoved some potatoes in the stove, and I started some rice dish on my camping stove on the porch. The end result was somewhat disappointing all around, but mostly edible.
After dinner, we decided to head back to the summit in the dark and fog. The visibility was even worse, but we managed to crawl our way up and played on top, hiding from each other. Somehow we found our way back down and settled in for some sleep.
We packed up after breakfast the next morning and headed back the way we'd come, with a stop on the summit to finally see the view. At the end of the ridge, we took an alternate path leading down to Bishbash Falls. The trail dropped quickly and then stopped abruptly at a fence. On the other side of the fence was several hundred feet of sheer drop into Bishbash Gorge. An amazing sight. Sheer rock walls and a roaring stream at the bottom. We ignored the warning signs and ventured past the fence to look over the edge, then explored along the sides of the gully. We started to head around the east end and then decided to go back along another route, down the side of the gully on the south. Hanging on to a cable fence for support, we slide our way down the hill to the base of the gully at its western end. There were a fair number of folks there as we crossed the stream and headed back to the car. We found out later that Ken and his friends had gone canoeing instead and our bugle blowing was all for naught.
