Guyot Shelter
Where: Guyot Shelter
When: April 6, 1991
With: Solo
My first solo hike in several years. There had been little snow that season and I'd done this hike before in the summer, so I figured I'd have no trouble. I packed as light as I could...few extra clothes and only a coffeepot for cooking. My one excess, my winter sleeping bag. I figured I'd rather be safe than sorry.
I drove to the Wilderness Trail and started walking in. The first section was 5 miles, to the Bondcliff Trail. The trail was a combination of ice and mud, but I really hauled butt, passing other hikers, and made the trip in 1.5 hours. After stopping for water and peanut M&Ms, I resumed the hike up toward Bondcliff.
The first part of the trail followed a brook and I noted several very nice campsites along the way. Perhaps good destinations for future hikes. The trail started to climb more steeply through the woods and left the stream for awhile. As I climbed higher, I started to see patches of snow on the trail and eventually they merged into a complete coating. The trail returned to the stream and followed along a steep bank before crossing over and turning west, along the hillside. A few yards from the crossing I found another small campsite with a spectacular view over the valley below. Yet another good destination for another day's hike, but I was heading for the top.
The snow was perhaps a foot or two deep by this time, but it was packed down and I was able to stay on top, as long as I stayed on the trail. When I'd stray, I'd find myself knee deep. The trail climbed on long switchbacks and wasn't too tough, but the length of the trip was starting to tire me out.
One thing made the walk interesting and eased the fatigue. I'd been following some tracks for quite awhile, since before the snow, and I hadn't been able to tell if they were fresh or old. I changed my mind on the subject several times during the hike. I kept expecting to catch up with someone.
Anyway, the trail continued around the side of the hill and then suddenly turned and headed up the slope. The snow disappeared, the trees got smaller, and soon I was working my way through scrub bushes to the rocky summit. The wind and sun had removed all the snow and it was just open walking. At last I reached the summit cairn and stopped.
It's quite a view from there. Mt. Washington was particularly beautiful, covered in snow and bathed in a late-day golden glow. I looked ahead on the trail and spotted movement. There WAS someone ahead of me. Two hikers, picking their way up the trail to Mt. Bond. They seemed to be moving very slowly. I soon set off after them and descended to the connecting ridge.
The trail up the other side was a jumble of rocks and was very tough going, especially since I was tired. I had to stop every few steps for a rest and could see why the others were going so slowly. I managed to catch up to them though, after the trail moved back into some woods. We chatted a bit and found we were all heading to the same place. I said I'd see them there and continued.
When I reached the top of Mt. Bond, I found that leaving my camera behind had been a serious mistake. The view of Mt. Washington was spectacular. I just stood there and stared for several minutes before moving on along the trail. The snow had returned and made for some slippery footing as I descended.
I passed the side trail for West Bond and dropped down into a col. Soon I spotted the trail for the Guyot shelter and went down. There were no tracks leading down and I had to wade through knee-deep snow. I passed the caretaker's platform and headed right to find the shelter. I didn't remember it from my last visit, so I was anxious to see what it was like.
It turned out to be wonderful. Perched on the side of the hill, it had a porch with a railing set on top of supporting poles. The shelter itself was a basic lean-to, but with a partially enclosed front, with just a six foot opening. The inside was divided in two vertically by an end to end bunk. I threw my gear up top and went for water. The water supply was just a few yards away and was running just fine.
After a little rest, I headed back up the trail, to "bag" West Bond. It was an easy hike back up to the side trail, which descended into a very pretty little forest glade before rising up the other side to the summit. I sat on a rock near the summit cairn and just enjoyed the view of the Owl's Head valley for a good while before returning.
When I got back to the shelter, the others were there, and we introduced ourselves. They were also from the Boston area, up for a couple of days. We all pulled out some refreshments, which were shared around, and then set about preparing dinner. I started by boiling water for tea. Once the tea was made, I added tortellini to the water and got that cooking. Once that was done, I poured off the excess water and added a packet of corn chowder mix for a sauce. In no time at all, dinner was prepared and I set to eating, using a wooden spoon right out of the coffeepot.
I sat in my sleeping bag on the top bunk while I ate. Through the door opening, I could see the sunlight disappearing from the ridge across the valley. After cleaning up, I settled in with some cards and a candle lantern for the evening. My comrades set up a tent on the bunk, for extra warmth, and disappeared for the night.
The next day dawned clear and cool. My shelter-mates planned on heading around the ridge some more, to find another night's shelter. I had planned to follow the shelter's water down the valley, bushwhacking down to the North Fork brook, to pick up the Thoreau Falls trail. Since I was solo though, I decided to take a safer route and stick to the trails. It would be a long day, but I figured I could do it.
I packed up my gear, said my good-byes, and headed out. In a short time I was atop a bare Mt. Guyot and headed east on the Twinway (AT). It soon descended into the woods and the deep snow returned yet again. It was actually for the best. I was able to make good time, jumping down the trail, with the snow softening my landings. It was a very pretty trail through the trees and I was enjoying it.
After a couple of hours, I came to the Zeacliff trail and headed off on it. It quickly descended over some rocks, with some slippery footing, and soon I was in an open wood at the base of the ridge with no trail in sight! It may have been an obvious trail in the summer, but with a snow cover and not much in the way of tree markings, it was pretty much invisible. Somehow I made it down. At times I was able to spot old tracks in the snow. Other times I was able to spot old hatchet marks on the trees. And sometimes I just went where I thought the trail should go!
Eventually, the trail did reappear and I was soon at the bottom of the valley. A short climb up the other side and I was on the Ethan Pond trail and back in the sunlight. I hiked a bit and then stopped on some rocks for a clothing change. I removed my gaiters and long underwear pants and wrung out my socks.
Reclothed, I moved out and got to the Thoreau Falls trail. The Falls were just a little ways down, at a well-trampled area of woods. I lost the trail in there and started to follow the brook down its west side a bit. The map said the trail was on the east side and I was looking for a crossing. It didn't show up and I realized I was off track and went back up. Back above the falls, I noticed what looked like a trail on the other side of the water. The water was too high to cross there, so I went up further, crossed on some ice, and made my way back down the east side. Sure enough, the trail was there.
It descended alongside the falls, and then continued along the brook. This trail was also not very well marked in this section, and I did a bit of wandering around every once in awhile. Finally the trail picked up some old roads and railroad beds and was pretty obvious. I took a bypass to avoid a couple of crossings and found myself on a long, flat hike on a railbed. The snow had pretty much disappeared by now and this was pure slogging.
The sound of the Pemi at the end of the trail was wonderful, and I smiled as I crossed the bridge and walked up to the Wilderness trail. Familiar territory at last! I took the Cedar Brook trail instead of following the WT back to the car, because I a) wanted the hike to be a loop and b) wanted to check out another trail. This wasn't an official trail, it was a jeep road on the south side of the Pemi. It left the Cedar Brook trail 1/2 a mile along and descended down into the woods. For much of the beginning, it stayed a good ways away from the river. Finally, it came back and was quite nice, though somewhat unexciting. I noted a couple of very nice campsites along the way, some with small "beaches" on the river. Another day. This day, I just wanted out, so I stretched out my stride and tried to make the best time I could.
At last, I started meeting other people and soon found myself back where I'd started. It had been a 26.5-mile hike, appropriate for the weekend before the Boston Marathon!
When: April 6, 1991
With: Solo
My first solo hike in several years. There had been little snow that season and I'd done this hike before in the summer, so I figured I'd have no trouble. I packed as light as I could...few extra clothes and only a coffeepot for cooking. My one excess, my winter sleeping bag. I figured I'd rather be safe than sorry.
I drove to the Wilderness Trail and started walking in. The first section was 5 miles, to the Bondcliff Trail. The trail was a combination of ice and mud, but I really hauled butt, passing other hikers, and made the trip in 1.5 hours. After stopping for water and peanut M&Ms, I resumed the hike up toward Bondcliff.
The first part of the trail followed a brook and I noted several very nice campsites along the way. Perhaps good destinations for future hikes. The trail started to climb more steeply through the woods and left the stream for awhile. As I climbed higher, I started to see patches of snow on the trail and eventually they merged into a complete coating. The trail returned to the stream and followed along a steep bank before crossing over and turning west, along the hillside. A few yards from the crossing I found another small campsite with a spectacular view over the valley below. Yet another good destination for another day's hike, but I was heading for the top.
The snow was perhaps a foot or two deep by this time, but it was packed down and I was able to stay on top, as long as I stayed on the trail. When I'd stray, I'd find myself knee deep. The trail climbed on long switchbacks and wasn't too tough, but the length of the trip was starting to tire me out.
One thing made the walk interesting and eased the fatigue. I'd been following some tracks for quite awhile, since before the snow, and I hadn't been able to tell if they were fresh or old. I changed my mind on the subject several times during the hike. I kept expecting to catch up with someone.
Anyway, the trail continued around the side of the hill and then suddenly turned and headed up the slope. The snow disappeared, the trees got smaller, and soon I was working my way through scrub bushes to the rocky summit. The wind and sun had removed all the snow and it was just open walking. At last I reached the summit cairn and stopped.
It's quite a view from there. Mt. Washington was particularly beautiful, covered in snow and bathed in a late-day golden glow. I looked ahead on the trail and spotted movement. There WAS someone ahead of me. Two hikers, picking their way up the trail to Mt. Bond. They seemed to be moving very slowly. I soon set off after them and descended to the connecting ridge.
The trail up the other side was a jumble of rocks and was very tough going, especially since I was tired. I had to stop every few steps for a rest and could see why the others were going so slowly. I managed to catch up to them though, after the trail moved back into some woods. We chatted a bit and found we were all heading to the same place. I said I'd see them there and continued.
When I reached the top of Mt. Bond, I found that leaving my camera behind had been a serious mistake. The view of Mt. Washington was spectacular. I just stood there and stared for several minutes before moving on along the trail. The snow had returned and made for some slippery footing as I descended.
I passed the side trail for West Bond and dropped down into a col. Soon I spotted the trail for the Guyot shelter and went down. There were no tracks leading down and I had to wade through knee-deep snow. I passed the caretaker's platform and headed right to find the shelter. I didn't remember it from my last visit, so I was anxious to see what it was like.
It turned out to be wonderful. Perched on the side of the hill, it had a porch with a railing set on top of supporting poles. The shelter itself was a basic lean-to, but with a partially enclosed front, with just a six foot opening. The inside was divided in two vertically by an end to end bunk. I threw my gear up top and went for water. The water supply was just a few yards away and was running just fine.
After a little rest, I headed back up the trail, to "bag" West Bond. It was an easy hike back up to the side trail, which descended into a very pretty little forest glade before rising up the other side to the summit. I sat on a rock near the summit cairn and just enjoyed the view of the Owl's Head valley for a good while before returning.
When I got back to the shelter, the others were there, and we introduced ourselves. They were also from the Boston area, up for a couple of days. We all pulled out some refreshments, which were shared around, and then set about preparing dinner. I started by boiling water for tea. Once the tea was made, I added tortellini to the water and got that cooking. Once that was done, I poured off the excess water and added a packet of corn chowder mix for a sauce. In no time at all, dinner was prepared and I set to eating, using a wooden spoon right out of the coffeepot.
I sat in my sleeping bag on the top bunk while I ate. Through the door opening, I could see the sunlight disappearing from the ridge across the valley. After cleaning up, I settled in with some cards and a candle lantern for the evening. My comrades set up a tent on the bunk, for extra warmth, and disappeared for the night.
The next day dawned clear and cool. My shelter-mates planned on heading around the ridge some more, to find another night's shelter. I had planned to follow the shelter's water down the valley, bushwhacking down to the North Fork brook, to pick up the Thoreau Falls trail. Since I was solo though, I decided to take a safer route and stick to the trails. It would be a long day, but I figured I could do it.
I packed up my gear, said my good-byes, and headed out. In a short time I was atop a bare Mt. Guyot and headed east on the Twinway (AT). It soon descended into the woods and the deep snow returned yet again. It was actually for the best. I was able to make good time, jumping down the trail, with the snow softening my landings. It was a very pretty trail through the trees and I was enjoying it.
After a couple of hours, I came to the Zeacliff trail and headed off on it. It quickly descended over some rocks, with some slippery footing, and soon I was in an open wood at the base of the ridge with no trail in sight! It may have been an obvious trail in the summer, but with a snow cover and not much in the way of tree markings, it was pretty much invisible. Somehow I made it down. At times I was able to spot old tracks in the snow. Other times I was able to spot old hatchet marks on the trees. And sometimes I just went where I thought the trail should go!
Eventually, the trail did reappear and I was soon at the bottom of the valley. A short climb up the other side and I was on the Ethan Pond trail and back in the sunlight. I hiked a bit and then stopped on some rocks for a clothing change. I removed my gaiters and long underwear pants and wrung out my socks.
Reclothed, I moved out and got to the Thoreau Falls trail. The Falls were just a little ways down, at a well-trampled area of woods. I lost the trail in there and started to follow the brook down its west side a bit. The map said the trail was on the east side and I was looking for a crossing. It didn't show up and I realized I was off track and went back up. Back above the falls, I noticed what looked like a trail on the other side of the water. The water was too high to cross there, so I went up further, crossed on some ice, and made my way back down the east side. Sure enough, the trail was there.
It descended alongside the falls, and then continued along the brook. This trail was also not very well marked in this section, and I did a bit of wandering around every once in awhile. Finally the trail picked up some old roads and railroad beds and was pretty obvious. I took a bypass to avoid a couple of crossings and found myself on a long, flat hike on a railbed. The snow had pretty much disappeared by now and this was pure slogging.
The sound of the Pemi at the end of the trail was wonderful, and I smiled as I crossed the bridge and walked up to the Wilderness trail. Familiar territory at last! I took the Cedar Brook trail instead of following the WT back to the car, because I a) wanted the hike to be a loop and b) wanted to check out another trail. This wasn't an official trail, it was a jeep road on the south side of the Pemi. It left the Cedar Brook trail 1/2 a mile along and descended down into the woods. For much of the beginning, it stayed a good ways away from the river. Finally, it came back and was quite nice, though somewhat unexciting. I noted a couple of very nice campsites along the way, some with small "beaches" on the river. Another day. This day, I just wanted out, so I stretched out my stride and tried to make the best time I could.
At last, I started meeting other people and soon found myself back where I'd started. It had been a 26.5-mile hike, appropriate for the weekend before the Boston Marathon!
