Lonesome Lake
Where: Cascade Brook Trail, NH
When: 1/29/94-1/30/94
With: Chip
When: 1/29/94-1/30/94
With: Chip
The previous year's aborted attempt to reach Kinsman Shelter (after I fell through the ice at a stream crossing) virtually ensured that we would try the same route again this year. We were confident that we had learned from our past mistakes and knew what to do to reach our goal. First job - get an early start up the trail and use a shorter route. I got up at 6:30, was on the road at 7, and at Chip's around 8:15. Within a short time we were driving north. We'd planned carefully and had everything we needed, so there would be no stops, not even for alcohol - a first!
Everything went fine, until we reached the base of the Basin-Cascades trail (which was 0.3 miles shorter than the previous route we'd taken). The parking lot on the east side of the highway was unplowed. We continued north for quite a ways until finally finding a spot to turn around. We stopped at the west side lot and found it was also snowed in. We walked in anyway, looking for signs of a trail. Finding none, we decided to return to the Cascade Brook trailhead where we'd started the previous year.
Now quite late, we arrived at the new parking area and proceeded to load up. We'd brought plastic sleds for our gear this year, and managed to lash everything in and rig up some towropes. After some debate, we decided to leave our skis behind, and finally, around 12:10PM, we started for the woods. To save time and effort, we opted to bypass the trail system on the east side of the highway and just walk up the road to where the trail crossed under. That turned out to be a great idea and in almost no time we were at the trail. We were happy to find that, unlike the previous year, there was a nicely packed path through the snow. We put on our snowshoes, scrambled down the embankment, and soon were heading up into the mountains.
Things went generally well. It was a beautiful day - sunny, mild temperatures - and the trail was in great shape. Unfortunately, I had some trouble with my sled - gear sticking out and catching sides slowed me down and made the whole process an effort. Chip had no such problems and seemed to be moving along just fine. I finally just put my pack, with the sled still attached, on my back and that made all the difference. I was able to start making some good progress.
After a bit, we arrived at our first stream crossing. There was a good bit of water and we had to remove our gear and jump across. Soon after, we approached Cascade brook. We could hear other people there and when we actually arrived at the brook, we found a large group of folks standing on the bank. The reason? The brook was completely flooded, due to a recent rain. There was no apparent way to cross it. Most of the group of people appeared to be attempting to establish a crossing with ropes, right at the trail. We, along with a few others, explored up and down our side of the bank, looking for crossing spots. There was nothing downstream, so we went a good ways upstream, but still came up empty.
We returned to the trail crossing and found that the main group had been successful in setting up a rope crossing after one of their members had managed to leap across. The basic technique was to hook your gear on a caribiner and slide it over on the rope, and then to leap across yourself, hauling on the rope for extra propulsion. Chip was the last one over, and had to untie to rope before leaping.
Finally all across, we surveyed our companions. Two groups, one of 7 (late 20s/early 30s, 2 women) and one of 4 (young college guys). Turns out they'd been breaking trail for us. While they stopped for a lunch break, we went on ahead and broke trail for them. It was mighty tough going. The recent rain had put a crust on 4 inches of new snow that made snowshoeing difficult. Eventually, the other groups caught up with us and passed, so we had broken trail again. From then on, we were one huge convoy, moving through the forest. The older group was definitely the best at this. From their equipment (ropes, 'biners, shovels) to their trail-breaking prowess, it was apparent that these guys - at least the leaders - were good. As best as I could tell, it seemed that there were 2-3 real pros - almost like mountain guides - and the others were being lead on this adventure.
The other group had more enthusiasm than experience. Young guys in jeans, two of them on skis, making the most of the energy of youth. In many ways, they were like we were years earlier. They hadn't learned what they couldn't do yet. We were in the middle. Older (and wiser?) than the younger group, somewhat (though not too much) less experienced than the other folks.
After a bit, the whole crowd arrived at the junction with the Kinsman Pond trail. We'd all had been aiming for the Kinsman shelter, but the trail to get there re-crossed the brook and promised 2.3 more miles of trail breaking, most of it up steep terrain. The trail that we were on (Cascade Brook) was also unbroken, but required no stream crossing and lead, in less than a mile, to Lonesome Lake. Though there was no shelter there, there were camping spots. Because of the various delays we'd all encountered (our search for a trailhead, the other groups' trailbreaking, and everyone's stream crossing), it was already 3PM and there was only an hour or so of light left. We all decided to head for the Lake and so the convoy headed up that trail.
At the Lake, the three groups separated. The group of 7 headed around the east shore of the lake while the group of four and we went west. After crossing the outlet, the group of 4 went into the woods while we traveled on the lake, moving north along the west shore. I thought the AMC hut in the area was about midway up the west shore and we were aiming to camp there, perhaps using the hut (closed for the winter) for a windbreak. As it turned out, the hut was at the southern end of the lake and the group of 4 wound up there for the night.
After the rigors of the day's journey, the hike up the ice was a wonderful respite. Franconia Ridge, to the east, shone with the light of the setting sun and we took some memorable pictures of each other using the glowing, snow-covered peaks as a backdrop. The rest of the area was a near perfect scene of mid-winter isolation and beauty. It was quite nice walking up the lake in the gathering darkness of that day.
As we approached the north shore, having had no sign of the hut, we decided to head into the woods and search for a campsite. We spotted a tent on a small spit of land jutting out into the lake from the west shore - some folks had obviously come up earlier. What a surprise for them to have this small invasion of their solitude.
Soon we were off the lake and back in the woods. We found a well-worn trail just in from shore and headed west on it, still hoping to find the hut. We came to a trail junction that indicated that the hut was another 0.3 miles back south, but the trail from there on was unbroken. There was a nice clearing around the trail junction and we decided to just stay where we were. We tromped around in our snowshoes to create a packed down area and then started to set up camp. I put up the tent and we dug a pit for the fire. Even with the snow packed down, it was a good 2-3 feet down to the ground. We got dinner going and then started on the fire. First I used some starter sticks but it went out. Then Chip poured on some stove fuel. It went out again. We tried one last time, got it going, and it turned out to be a great fire.
Throughout much of this, Chip was struggling. He helped haul in some wood and helped with the site setup, but the hike in had exhausted him and his feet were really cold, so he was concentrating on getting warm and getting some energy. I lent him some socks for one of his problems and then we settled in for dinner. Tortellini w/ veggie soup and Alfredo sauce and vegetable bouillon to drink. That, along with the fire, seemed to help matters.
While we were eating, we had a visitor from the group of 7. He was out for a walk and had spotted our site. They had built a huge snow cave, he said, but had no fire. He was quite impressed with ours. We chatted a bit and told him to tell the others about our fire. He must have followed our advice, because a bit later, a man and a woman come to chat and enjoy the fire.
After they left, we watched the fire, took some walks to look at the sky, and generally just wound down. The sky was very clear and there were some great stars out. Orion was particularly brilliant. The moon finally came up a bit before 9PM and Chip's energy level returned. He was up for staying up late and playing on the lake in the moonlight. Unfortunately, my energy level was pretty low by this time and we wound up heading to bed.
It wasn't a toasty night's sleep, but it was okay and we awoke the next morning around 7AM. Around 8 we mustered up the courage to leave the tent and sleeping bags and made breakfast. Oatmeal & coffee & espresso. I melted my new mitts a bit (on the espresso maker) and kept losing things, but in the end all was found. We packed up and at 9:30, hit the trail. I packed the sled better so it would slide. First stop was the snow cave just to check it out. No one in sight, but we had a brief conversation with someone snuggled inside before heading back across the lake to find the trail.
The trip down the trail to the first stream crossing was uneventful, though beautiful. Another gorgeous day. Our plans to slide all the way down were unsuccessful - the sleds and the trail just weren't right. At the stream, the water had dropped a good bit and we were able to jump across. For our gear, we used a throw/pull method, with one person heaving the sled across while the other hauled it over with the sled's pull rope.
The second stream crossing was more interesting. I decided that I could just throw my sled across without having Chip on the other side to haul it over. When I tried though, it hit the other bank and then slide back down into the crevasse and the water. Reflexively, I leaped across, grabbed the sled's rope and hauled it up before it got too wet. I really don't even remember the jump. After we both got Chip's sled over, we continued down the trail to the highway. I managed to work out a luge-style method on my sled that allowed me to do some sliding, but for the most part, it was just some nice walking.
We got back onto the road and headed back to the car. Chip, in a burst of energy, jogged most of the way. I was a bit beat, so I just walked. Back at the parking area, we found the group of 4 already there. They'd taken a different route down and made much better time. I was glad to see them, because I had concerns about my car starting and figured I could ask them for a jump-start if necessary. The car started just fine though, so all we asked of them was to take a picture of both of us, standing by the car with our sleds, with the mountains in the background. A great picture. To celebrate our adventure, we drove in to town for lunch (Truants Tavern?) and then headed home.
Things I learned:
- When using a sled, put the campsite/overnight gear in the mailbag (lined with a garbage bag) and lash that to the sled. A more streamlined shape. Take the backpack for emergency clothing, trail food, water, etc.
- Wear more clothing to bed.
More pictures
Everything went fine, until we reached the base of the Basin-Cascades trail (which was 0.3 miles shorter than the previous route we'd taken). The parking lot on the east side of the highway was unplowed. We continued north for quite a ways until finally finding a spot to turn around. We stopped at the west side lot and found it was also snowed in. We walked in anyway, looking for signs of a trail. Finding none, we decided to return to the Cascade Brook trailhead where we'd started the previous year.
Now quite late, we arrived at the new parking area and proceeded to load up. We'd brought plastic sleds for our gear this year, and managed to lash everything in and rig up some towropes. After some debate, we decided to leave our skis behind, and finally, around 12:10PM, we started for the woods. To save time and effort, we opted to bypass the trail system on the east side of the highway and just walk up the road to where the trail crossed under. That turned out to be a great idea and in almost no time we were at the trail. We were happy to find that, unlike the previous year, there was a nicely packed path through the snow. We put on our snowshoes, scrambled down the embankment, and soon were heading up into the mountains.
Things went generally well. It was a beautiful day - sunny, mild temperatures - and the trail was in great shape. Unfortunately, I had some trouble with my sled - gear sticking out and catching sides slowed me down and made the whole process an effort. Chip had no such problems and seemed to be moving along just fine. I finally just put my pack, with the sled still attached, on my back and that made all the difference. I was able to start making some good progress.
After a bit, we arrived at our first stream crossing. There was a good bit of water and we had to remove our gear and jump across. Soon after, we approached Cascade brook. We could hear other people there and when we actually arrived at the brook, we found a large group of folks standing on the bank. The reason? The brook was completely flooded, due to a recent rain. There was no apparent way to cross it. Most of the group of people appeared to be attempting to establish a crossing with ropes, right at the trail. We, along with a few others, explored up and down our side of the bank, looking for crossing spots. There was nothing downstream, so we went a good ways upstream, but still came up empty.
We returned to the trail crossing and found that the main group had been successful in setting up a rope crossing after one of their members had managed to leap across. The basic technique was to hook your gear on a caribiner and slide it over on the rope, and then to leap across yourself, hauling on the rope for extra propulsion. Chip was the last one over, and had to untie to rope before leaping.
Finally all across, we surveyed our companions. Two groups, one of 7 (late 20s/early 30s, 2 women) and one of 4 (young college guys). Turns out they'd been breaking trail for us. While they stopped for a lunch break, we went on ahead and broke trail for them. It was mighty tough going. The recent rain had put a crust on 4 inches of new snow that made snowshoeing difficult. Eventually, the other groups caught up with us and passed, so we had broken trail again. From then on, we were one huge convoy, moving through the forest. The older group was definitely the best at this. From their equipment (ropes, 'biners, shovels) to their trail-breaking prowess, it was apparent that these guys - at least the leaders - were good. As best as I could tell, it seemed that there were 2-3 real pros - almost like mountain guides - and the others were being lead on this adventure.
The other group had more enthusiasm than experience. Young guys in jeans, two of them on skis, making the most of the energy of youth. In many ways, they were like we were years earlier. They hadn't learned what they couldn't do yet. We were in the middle. Older (and wiser?) than the younger group, somewhat (though not too much) less experienced than the other folks.
After a bit, the whole crowd arrived at the junction with the Kinsman Pond trail. We'd all had been aiming for the Kinsman shelter, but the trail to get there re-crossed the brook and promised 2.3 more miles of trail breaking, most of it up steep terrain. The trail that we were on (Cascade Brook) was also unbroken, but required no stream crossing and lead, in less than a mile, to Lonesome Lake. Though there was no shelter there, there were camping spots. Because of the various delays we'd all encountered (our search for a trailhead, the other groups' trailbreaking, and everyone's stream crossing), it was already 3PM and there was only an hour or so of light left. We all decided to head for the Lake and so the convoy headed up that trail.
At the Lake, the three groups separated. The group of 7 headed around the east shore of the lake while the group of four and we went west. After crossing the outlet, the group of 4 went into the woods while we traveled on the lake, moving north along the west shore. I thought the AMC hut in the area was about midway up the west shore and we were aiming to camp there, perhaps using the hut (closed for the winter) for a windbreak. As it turned out, the hut was at the southern end of the lake and the group of 4 wound up there for the night.
After the rigors of the day's journey, the hike up the ice was a wonderful respite. Franconia Ridge, to the east, shone with the light of the setting sun and we took some memorable pictures of each other using the glowing, snow-covered peaks as a backdrop. The rest of the area was a near perfect scene of mid-winter isolation and beauty. It was quite nice walking up the lake in the gathering darkness of that day.
As we approached the north shore, having had no sign of the hut, we decided to head into the woods and search for a campsite. We spotted a tent on a small spit of land jutting out into the lake from the west shore - some folks had obviously come up earlier. What a surprise for them to have this small invasion of their solitude.
Soon we were off the lake and back in the woods. We found a well-worn trail just in from shore and headed west on it, still hoping to find the hut. We came to a trail junction that indicated that the hut was another 0.3 miles back south, but the trail from there on was unbroken. There was a nice clearing around the trail junction and we decided to just stay where we were. We tromped around in our snowshoes to create a packed down area and then started to set up camp. I put up the tent and we dug a pit for the fire. Even with the snow packed down, it was a good 2-3 feet down to the ground. We got dinner going and then started on the fire. First I used some starter sticks but it went out. Then Chip poured on some stove fuel. It went out again. We tried one last time, got it going, and it turned out to be a great fire.
Throughout much of this, Chip was struggling. He helped haul in some wood and helped with the site setup, but the hike in had exhausted him and his feet were really cold, so he was concentrating on getting warm and getting some energy. I lent him some socks for one of his problems and then we settled in for dinner. Tortellini w/ veggie soup and Alfredo sauce and vegetable bouillon to drink. That, along with the fire, seemed to help matters.
While we were eating, we had a visitor from the group of 7. He was out for a walk and had spotted our site. They had built a huge snow cave, he said, but had no fire. He was quite impressed with ours. We chatted a bit and told him to tell the others about our fire. He must have followed our advice, because a bit later, a man and a woman come to chat and enjoy the fire.
After they left, we watched the fire, took some walks to look at the sky, and generally just wound down. The sky was very clear and there were some great stars out. Orion was particularly brilliant. The moon finally came up a bit before 9PM and Chip's energy level returned. He was up for staying up late and playing on the lake in the moonlight. Unfortunately, my energy level was pretty low by this time and we wound up heading to bed.
It wasn't a toasty night's sleep, but it was okay and we awoke the next morning around 7AM. Around 8 we mustered up the courage to leave the tent and sleeping bags and made breakfast. Oatmeal & coffee & espresso. I melted my new mitts a bit (on the espresso maker) and kept losing things, but in the end all was found. We packed up and at 9:30, hit the trail. I packed the sled better so it would slide. First stop was the snow cave just to check it out. No one in sight, but we had a brief conversation with someone snuggled inside before heading back across the lake to find the trail.
The trip down the trail to the first stream crossing was uneventful, though beautiful. Another gorgeous day. Our plans to slide all the way down were unsuccessful - the sleds and the trail just weren't right. At the stream, the water had dropped a good bit and we were able to jump across. For our gear, we used a throw/pull method, with one person heaving the sled across while the other hauled it over with the sled's pull rope.
The second stream crossing was more interesting. I decided that I could just throw my sled across without having Chip on the other side to haul it over. When I tried though, it hit the other bank and then slide back down into the crevasse and the water. Reflexively, I leaped across, grabbed the sled's rope and hauled it up before it got too wet. I really don't even remember the jump. After we both got Chip's sled over, we continued down the trail to the highway. I managed to work out a luge-style method on my sled that allowed me to do some sliding, but for the most part, it was just some nice walking.
We got back onto the road and headed back to the car. Chip, in a burst of energy, jogged most of the way. I was a bit beat, so I just walked. Back at the parking area, we found the group of 4 already there. They'd taken a different route down and made much better time. I was glad to see them, because I had concerns about my car starting and figured I could ask them for a jump-start if necessary. The car started just fine though, so all we asked of them was to take a picture of both of us, standing by the car with our sleds, with the mountains in the background. A great picture. To celebrate our adventure, we drove in to town for lunch (Truants Tavern?) and then headed home.
Things I learned:
- When using a sled, put the campsite/overnight gear in the mailbag (lined with a garbage bag) and lash that to the sled. A more streamlined shape. Take the backpack for emergency clothing, trail food, water, etc.
- Wear more clothing to bed.
More pictures
