Cedar Brook Trail/Wilderness Trail
Where: Cedar Brook Trail to Wilderness Trail
When: February, 1992
With: Chip
When: February, 1992
With: Chip
Three years ago, with Dave, we had done this hike and enjoyed it so much we wrote a song about it. When we talked of great hikes, that one came up first. So naturally, Chip and I decided it was worth a revisit.
We had planned to go several weekends before we finally did go, but the weather forced us to change our plans. The winter was odd, with rare snowfalls followed by pouring rain and then sub-zero temperatures. The weekend we went was more of the same, but we convinced ourselves to try anyway. To save time, we bought all our food and alcohol ahead of time and just headed north. Chip insisted on a stop at the NH liquor store anyway, but it was only a short stop and soon we were at the Kancamagus Highway.
There had been no snow on the ground most of the way up and the thin covering we saw now was topped with a sheet of ice. We feared we might have to cancel our plans. When we got to the trailhead, there was a bit more snow, so we walked down to the trail to check it out. I decided immediately that we should cancel. The trail was all ice at first and then a thin coat of powder on top of that a little further on. We got our skis and tried a test run. Chip thought it was possible, but I was getting no kick and couldn't see doing it. With sub-zero temperatures expected to continue (and worsen) through the day and night, it didn't seem like a good idea. We discussed several alternate plans, but nothing seemed too good. Chip, as usual, was up for trying the original route and managed somehow to convince me, though I vowed to walk rather than struggle with the skis. I did agree to carry my skis though, in case they might become useful later. We packed up and set off.
We were trying a lot of new gear. I was into polar-fleece, with a fleece vest, jacket, and pants over polypropylene long underwear. I even had a fleece balclava over my silk one. For a wind shell, I wore my mountain parka. We also had headset walkie-talkies, from Radio Shack. They were a bit awkward with the headgear we wore, but kind of fun. Probably a better thing for a summer hike. Our code names were Tuba and Bomber ("Tuba to Bomber. Tuba to Bomber. Come in Bomber. Over.").
The cold made things interesting. The wires on the walkie-talkies were frozen stiff and my silk balclava was soon frozen solid in front of my nose and mouth. The temperature never went above 0 the whole trip, and -10 was more common. Still, we weren't too cold as we moved along.
Chip and I made about the same speed, he on skis and me on foot. We were following the tracks of two older men we'd met when we were considering the trail. They had gone in on foot, heading for Hancock Mountain, with snowshoes and crampons, so their trail was easy to spot. Just the same, we lost them when we crossed a stream. We continued on ahead a ways, following something of a trail, but soon decided we were off course and headed back. Just before the stream we found the cutoff we'd missed and got back on the trail.
Soon we were at the Hancock Notch trail junction and then the side trail for Hancock itself. We went left, up the Cedar Brook trail and were on our own, no tracks to follow. It was a steep climb to the height of land, but we were on top pretty quickly and faced with the downhill we'd remembered so fondly. Unfortunately, we were three years older, in less than peak physical condition, and faced with pretty poor snow conditions. The cover was so thin that many rocks and trees that had been hidden last time were exposed this time. I tried to ski a bit, but kept falling. Fearing I'd be hurt, I took off my skis and walked. Chip bravely managed to ski down much of the trail, but even he too had to walk occasionally.
At last we were at the bottom. We looked at our watches and realized there was no way we were going to make it to Desolation Shelter by dark. Still, we had to try. We put on our skis and finally managed to get some good action going and were quickly at the river. We paused a bit on the bridge before heading upstream on the Wilderness Trail. At each major junction, we consulted the map and the sun's height to see how we were doing. Though we knew we wouldn't make it, we tried anyway.
I was having trouble skiing, partly because it was my first time on skis all season and I was not in condition. I finally had to take the skis off and walk. Soon afterward, the sun finally set. We had just reached Crystal Brook, still two miles from the shelter and Chip finally agreed to stop and make camp for the night. All my whining finally wore him down, I guess.
We quickly moved to set up camp, since the light was going and it was getting colder. First we got stoves going for food and hot drinks and then got the tent set up. I'd brought my orange pup tent along as emergency shelter and we set it up in the middle of the trail, using sticks for tent poles and stakes. A couple of cups of vegetable bouillon went a long way toward warming us as dinner cooked. Despite the adverse conditions, we were determined to make the best of it, making a dinner of tortellini with pesto sauce, garlic bread, and Chianti wine. The wine was the only disappointment, having frozen on the trip in. We still managed to get a couple of mouthfuls of wine Slurpie anyway and had a nice dinner.
One mishap...while getting water, Chip went through the ice in the stream and soaked one foot and boot. It wasn't too bad though and wasn't a problem. We decided to forgo a fire and instead headed for bed. We both had -20 degree sleeping bags and hoped for a comfortable night. That turned out to be true, as we both had relatively restful nights, though Chip complained of cold feet.
The next morning was still cold but sunny. We had breakfast and started to ski out. At the bridge, we decided not to try going back over the ridge and took the Wilderness trail out. We made excellent time, kicking when there was snow and poling when the trail was only ice. We made it out to the Wilderness Trail trailhead in only 1.5 hours or so, after a 6-hour ski in the previous day.
We headed straight for the ranger station for warmth. Our plan was for Chip to hitchhike back to the car, but while we were warming ourselves, I overheard some people talking. They were looking for a place to hike and had stopped here first to check the map and get suggestions. Since they were considering the area we'd skied into, I offered some observations of the trail conditions and asked if Chip might hitch a ride up to the trail with them when they went. They said, "Sure" and said they'd leave as soon as friends of theirs arrived.
Well, the friends never came, so Chip headed out to the road. After quite awhile without success, he came back in and asked one of the ranger station staff if they knew of anyone heading up the Kanc. A kindly older gentleman volunteer agreed to take him and they hopped into a truck and were off. After some car trouble, due to the cold, Chip got his car going, came back to pick up the gear and me, and we headed home.
More pictures
We had planned to go several weekends before we finally did go, but the weather forced us to change our plans. The winter was odd, with rare snowfalls followed by pouring rain and then sub-zero temperatures. The weekend we went was more of the same, but we convinced ourselves to try anyway. To save time, we bought all our food and alcohol ahead of time and just headed north. Chip insisted on a stop at the NH liquor store anyway, but it was only a short stop and soon we were at the Kancamagus Highway.
There had been no snow on the ground most of the way up and the thin covering we saw now was topped with a sheet of ice. We feared we might have to cancel our plans. When we got to the trailhead, there was a bit more snow, so we walked down to the trail to check it out. I decided immediately that we should cancel. The trail was all ice at first and then a thin coat of powder on top of that a little further on. We got our skis and tried a test run. Chip thought it was possible, but I was getting no kick and couldn't see doing it. With sub-zero temperatures expected to continue (and worsen) through the day and night, it didn't seem like a good idea. We discussed several alternate plans, but nothing seemed too good. Chip, as usual, was up for trying the original route and managed somehow to convince me, though I vowed to walk rather than struggle with the skis. I did agree to carry my skis though, in case they might become useful later. We packed up and set off.
We were trying a lot of new gear. I was into polar-fleece, with a fleece vest, jacket, and pants over polypropylene long underwear. I even had a fleece balclava over my silk one. For a wind shell, I wore my mountain parka. We also had headset walkie-talkies, from Radio Shack. They were a bit awkward with the headgear we wore, but kind of fun. Probably a better thing for a summer hike. Our code names were Tuba and Bomber ("Tuba to Bomber. Tuba to Bomber. Come in Bomber. Over.").
The cold made things interesting. The wires on the walkie-talkies were frozen stiff and my silk balclava was soon frozen solid in front of my nose and mouth. The temperature never went above 0 the whole trip, and -10 was more common. Still, we weren't too cold as we moved along.
Chip and I made about the same speed, he on skis and me on foot. We were following the tracks of two older men we'd met when we were considering the trail. They had gone in on foot, heading for Hancock Mountain, with snowshoes and crampons, so their trail was easy to spot. Just the same, we lost them when we crossed a stream. We continued on ahead a ways, following something of a trail, but soon decided we were off course and headed back. Just before the stream we found the cutoff we'd missed and got back on the trail.
Soon we were at the Hancock Notch trail junction and then the side trail for Hancock itself. We went left, up the Cedar Brook trail and were on our own, no tracks to follow. It was a steep climb to the height of land, but we were on top pretty quickly and faced with the downhill we'd remembered so fondly. Unfortunately, we were three years older, in less than peak physical condition, and faced with pretty poor snow conditions. The cover was so thin that many rocks and trees that had been hidden last time were exposed this time. I tried to ski a bit, but kept falling. Fearing I'd be hurt, I took off my skis and walked. Chip bravely managed to ski down much of the trail, but even he too had to walk occasionally.
At last we were at the bottom. We looked at our watches and realized there was no way we were going to make it to Desolation Shelter by dark. Still, we had to try. We put on our skis and finally managed to get some good action going and were quickly at the river. We paused a bit on the bridge before heading upstream on the Wilderness Trail. At each major junction, we consulted the map and the sun's height to see how we were doing. Though we knew we wouldn't make it, we tried anyway.
I was having trouble skiing, partly because it was my first time on skis all season and I was not in condition. I finally had to take the skis off and walk. Soon afterward, the sun finally set. We had just reached Crystal Brook, still two miles from the shelter and Chip finally agreed to stop and make camp for the night. All my whining finally wore him down, I guess.
We quickly moved to set up camp, since the light was going and it was getting colder. First we got stoves going for food and hot drinks and then got the tent set up. I'd brought my orange pup tent along as emergency shelter and we set it up in the middle of the trail, using sticks for tent poles and stakes. A couple of cups of vegetable bouillon went a long way toward warming us as dinner cooked. Despite the adverse conditions, we were determined to make the best of it, making a dinner of tortellini with pesto sauce, garlic bread, and Chianti wine. The wine was the only disappointment, having frozen on the trip in. We still managed to get a couple of mouthfuls of wine Slurpie anyway and had a nice dinner.
One mishap...while getting water, Chip went through the ice in the stream and soaked one foot and boot. It wasn't too bad though and wasn't a problem. We decided to forgo a fire and instead headed for bed. We both had -20 degree sleeping bags and hoped for a comfortable night. That turned out to be true, as we both had relatively restful nights, though Chip complained of cold feet.
The next morning was still cold but sunny. We had breakfast and started to ski out. At the bridge, we decided not to try going back over the ridge and took the Wilderness trail out. We made excellent time, kicking when there was snow and poling when the trail was only ice. We made it out to the Wilderness Trail trailhead in only 1.5 hours or so, after a 6-hour ski in the previous day.
We headed straight for the ranger station for warmth. Our plan was for Chip to hitchhike back to the car, but while we were warming ourselves, I overheard some people talking. They were looking for a place to hike and had stopped here first to check the map and get suggestions. Since they were considering the area we'd skied into, I offered some observations of the trail conditions and asked if Chip might hitch a ride up to the trail with them when they went. They said, "Sure" and said they'd leave as soon as friends of theirs arrived.
Well, the friends never came, so Chip headed out to the road. After quite awhile without success, he came back in and asked one of the ranger station staff if they knew of anyone heading up the Kanc. A kindly older gentleman volunteer agreed to take him and they hopped into a truck and were off. After some car trouble, due to the cold, Chip got his car going, came back to pick up the gear and me, and we headed home.
More pictures
