Kinsman Pond
Where: Kinsman Pond
When: 2/23-24/02
With: Chip
Back around the holidays I got the usual "Winter hike this year?" email from Chip, to which I replied, "Maybe." We chatted a bit and marked our traditional Superbowl weekend as a target date. We considered a number of routes and destinations and decided to revisit Kinsman Pond Shelter. Several years ago we'd made three attempts to reach it via various routes (the Hell & High Water series of hikes) before finally succeeding by coming in from the west. This time we planned to try a new route from the east, a direct line from the highway using the Lonesome Lake and Fishin' Jimmy trails. Only about 3.5 miles total distance, with a couple of 1000-foot climbs along the way. It fit our new criteria for winter hikes (shorter, easier routes) and offered a shelter and nice surroundings for the night. To make things interesting we figured we could return via a ridge walk to Cannon Mt., making the hike a loop and possibly tagging three 4000-foot peaks along the way. Seemed perfect.
So why hadn't we tried this short direct route in our previous attempts? It's probably the most popular route to Kinsman Pond and certainly the most direct. It's hard to say. I recall that we did try for a shorter route on our second attempt, but that was via the Basin-Cascade trail, and we missed it because the trailhead parking lot wasn't plowed. This time I posted some queries on the Internet asking for parking info and received some good advice & directions to the appropriate parking at NH's Lafayette Campground.
The day came, I was all packed, and Chip called to cancel. His primary concern was the forecast of extreme cold temperatures (-10 degrees overnight) for the mountains that weekend, but the snow conditions were also less than ideal. A recent snow and rain had left 8-10 inches of snow on the ground covered by a thick crust of ice. Hiking through that meant breaking through the crust with snowshoes on both the step and the lift of each leg...extremely tiring. Trail reports from folks who did go up that weekend noted a lot of trips stopped short of their goals, so it's just as well we didn't go.
We rescheduled for the final weekend in February. The weather for that weekend couldn't have been much better. Clear skies, moderate temperatures (teens overnight), and no recent storms so the trails would be packed and clear. Unfortunately, despite all of the positive aspects I still had my usual panic attacks and couldn't get any sleep before the hike. I finally took some PM Tylenol around 3AM, turned off the alarm and resolved to sleep as long as I needed.
Jane was unaware of my plans and roused me at 6:15, thinking I'd overslept (I had told her I planned to be up at 6). Still groggy from the pills, I pulled on some clothes, grabbed some coffee Jane insisted on making for me, took some muffins she had toasted and stumbled out into the car for the ride to Chip's. I'd told him to expect me between 6:30 and 7:00 and it was already 6:45, so I'd be late but I didn't care.
Chip had his gear set out in the driveway when I arrived and offered to drive when I explained the situation. I accepted gratefully and we were quickly on the highway heading north. I didn't really sleep during the drive, but just kept my eyes closed and tried to recharge. By the time we made our usual stop at the state liquor store in NH (Chip got a bottle of Merlot and some vodka) I was feeling somewhat better, and I was significantly improved from that state as we approached Franconia Notch.
Now, we'd had clear sunny skies the entire drive, but as we approached the notch we found ourselves in a snow squall that swirled about between the notch's mountain walls. We both laughed...Chip always wishes for a storm for his hikes and I want clear, perfect conditions. Was this an omen? Probably not, because the snow only lasted for the time it took us to make the U-turn at the Tramway and get back to the Lafayette Campground lot. The sun started to poke out again as we pulled into our parking spot and we were good to go.
By this time I was feeling kind of okay as the after effects of the PM Tylenol had finally worn off. I sucked down a Red Bull energy drink to kick-start my internal engine and set about gearing up for the hike. A quick, cold change into my hiking bibs and boots, then a couple of top layers for warmth. The temperatures were in the 20s at the car and we needed to keep moving to stay warm. I decided to wear my crampons for the hike and carry my snowshoes, while Chip elected to bareboot the trail, leaving his instep crampons in his pack. We had one minor problem when Chip decided to help set up my hiking poles and wound up hyperextending one of the sections, but we quickly fixed it with my Leatherman tool and were on our way.
We snapped a few starting-off images (I'd brought my digital camera) and hit the trail around 10:45. Two dayhikers started up the route just before us and we wound up meeting them a few times that morning. The trail started very easily, then turned and began its ascent to Lonesome Lake (about a 1000-foot climb) via a huge switchback. At the beginning of this section we stopped briefly to shed some layers and were met by a solo overnight hiker named Jim. He was carrying an SLR camera in a chest pack and had a big tripod strapped to his backpack...out for some photos. He said he was also heading for Kinsman Pond, but was considering camping up on top of North Kinsman versus staying at the shelter. I've long wanted to put a tent up there myself and it was neat to meet someone else with the same idea.
The spot where we met Jim was the junction with the Hi Cannon trail, which we intended to use as our return route. In contrast to the clear, well-packed trail we were following, it showed little signs of travel and I figured it would prove interesting to follow. Snowshoes definitely required.
We took our time walking up the ridge, slowly regaining our hiking skills. Chip went out ahead of me, keeping up a quick steady pace. I walked more slowly, conserving my energy and grateful for the grip offered by the crampons. After about an hour of hiking the trail leveled off and arrived at the edge of Lonesome Lake. The dayhikers and Jim were both there, enjoying the sun's warmth, and the view of our destination (Kinsman Ridge) was spectacular. The dayhikers left and headed across the lake toward the hut while we took a few pictures, then we started across and quickly arrived at the opposite shore. The view back across the lake to Mt. Lafayette was also impressive and the dayhikers had chosen that spot for their lunch break.
We decided to try to find a spot up at the hut for our lunch break, but were unsure of which trail would take us there. We started on one path along the lake's edge and soon met some more day hikers. They told us we were heading the wrong way and said they were aiming for Fishin' Jimmy as well, so we turned around and followed them back to the hut, which turned out to be just a short distance from the water. We found a spot on one of the bunkhouse porches that was clear of snow and dropped our packs for a short food break. I dug into my supply of Fig Newtons, fruit snacks and Snickers while Chip worked on his usual Wendy-made sandwich.
The refueling was helpful and the break was nice, but we quickly grew chilled and couldn't really linger over our lunch. The packs were returned to our shoulders and we started up the Fishin' Jimmy trail. It was a very pretty path as it led away from the hut, winding through the woods and making small ascents and descents. We met up with a couple with a couple of dogs soon after the hut, coming back down from the top. The dogs were both wearing packs and the owners cautioned us that the dogs got nervous around other people. We passed them quickly and were soon back by ourselves.
Thanks to the food, the rest break and the relatively easy trail, I was feeling pretty good about this time. That changed as the trail began its first steep climb. Maps and trail guides had mentioned a few tough sections, and one trip report had pictures of wooden bars bolted to a rock face, so I knew this was coming. Foreknowledge didn't make the climb any easier though. All I could do was take my time and plod along one step after another. Again, my crampons and poles were greatly appreciated, and I couldn't fathom how Chip was making progress with just his boots.
I took several short rests and practiced my mountaineer's step to keep going and it all worked. The trail leveled off and I was walking through a flat section of forest with blue skies visible through the trees. There was even a short descent and I was convinced I was heading toward the shelter after only an hour of walking from the hut. Alas, it was not to be. The trail made a turn and began a second climb, equally steep (if not worse) than the first section. I kept looking for the bolted-on boards but never saw them (probably hidden under all the snow), though I did notice the large boulder mentioned as a landmark in the guidebooks.
Again, rest stops and slow stepping kept me moving forward and finally I looked up to see Chip and Jim standing at a sunny overlook. "Just tell me we're almost there," I called and they confirmed we were indeed. I hiked up to join them and took in the awesome view of the Franconia Ridge bathed in sunlight against a deep blue background. The stunted trees surrounding our vantagepoint were coated with a fresh layer of powdery snow that sparkled in the sunlight, and everything seemed fresh and clean. Best of all, the hard climbing was over and we only had another 100 vertical feet to go to the shelter.
We rested a bit at the overlook while Jim continued on ahead, then started on the final part of our hike. Just a few minutes later we came to the trail signs marking Kinsman Junction. I checked out the signs and noted the trails intersecting there, looking for the ridge route we planned to take the next day. There was the trail we were on, the trail to the shelter, and the trail heading up the ridge to North Kinsman, but no sign of the ridge trail to Cannon. The trail signs had arrows that pointed in the proper direction, but there was no sign in the woods and snow of any track. I turned to Chip and said it looked like we'd be going back out via Fishin' Jimmy. He held out hope he could convince me to give it a try, but I'd pretty much decided already that a day of high ridge trail breaking wasn't a good idea.
We took the turn and made our way to the shelter. The path that way wasn't as well-trodden as the main trail and we had to work our way around a number of downed trees before we arrived at the lean-to. Both Chip & I noted that it didn't match our recollections from our previous visit (seven years earlier). We remembered more of an open area. [A check of the photos from that earlier trip showed that there was a lot less snow on the ground then, which might account for the impression of more space since less would be taken up by snow]. Happily we found we were the only ones there so far and we moved in to claim some floor space. The center of the shelter was covered with snow almost all the way to the back wall, but the two ends were clear and we each choose an end for our gear.
Free of the packs at last, we wandered down to the pond to check out the views. Once again we ran into the two dayhikers who'd directed us back at the hut. They continued to wander back and forth from the shelter to the pond several times while we were there. A bit odd. Another fellow was at the pond, resting in the sunlight. He mentioned that he'd left a companion back at the overlook and wondered if we'd passed him along the way. We told him we hadn't, which concerned him a bit. The only other way his friend could have gone was up North Kinsman, which meant he was going in the wrong direction. To make matters worse, his friend was the one with the car keys! We told the hiker we were heading up to the peak and would keep an eye out for his friend.
It had been around 2PM when we reached the shelter (2.4 miles from the hut in about 2 hours) and we wanted to head up to N. Kinsman while we still had daylight, so we threw some snacks into our pockets and Chip's daypack and returned to the trail. I recalled that it wasn't that long or difficult a climb up and I was correct. It was certainly more pleasant hiking without the backpacks that's for sure. We met one older gentleman heading down as we climbed and we asked if he were the missing friend. Nope. Soon we were up on top, where we joined an older couple (also not the friend) who were realizing they needed to start back down quickly to get back to their car before dark (it was 3PM). We also re-met Jim, who had set up camp on a ledge overlooking the valley below. A spectacular spot, with a clear view east and the mountain behind him to block the westerly winds. He had his camera set up on its tripod and was just stamping down the snow for his tent. I was envious.
We stayed a bit, took a few photos, then got ready to return. We had thought of trying to run over to South Kinsman to "claim" that 4000 footer, but neither of us were really interested after all and we elected to just head back down to the shelter. We made one quick stop along the way to check out a contribution from Dave (joining us in spirit if not in person), and then continued toward the pond. At the trail junction we met up with the older couple again. I was a little concerned about their ability to make the 3.5 mile journey in the 2 hours of daylight they had left, but they seemed to know what they were doing and we left them to their walk. We took another look while we were there for the trail to Cannon, but were still unable to discern the route.
Back at the shelter, we now had the area all to ourselves. No one else had come up to spend the night and the dayhikers had all departed. Just the way we liked it. Done with hiking for the day, we changed into dry clothes and settled in for the evening. There was no source of open water available, so our first order of business was melting snow for cooking & drinking water. Chip fired up his Whisperlight stove and we soon had a pot of steaming water ready. We each took a cupful for decaf tea, then poured in a bag of tortellini to start cooking. We enjoyed the pasta with a salmon/herb sauce and swigs of a fine Merlot Slurpie (!). I forgot the homemade sun-dried tomato & basil bread I'd brought but that was okay.
After dinner we cleaned up and then went down to the pond to play a little Frisbee in the day's fading light. It took us awhile to adjust to the wind and the need for gloves, and the occasional loud cracking sound of the ice was a bit unnerving, but we had a great throw anyway. I found it loosened up some of my kinked-up muscles from the hiking and it definitely provided a nice pre-sleep warm-up. We took note of the last bits of sun glowing up on Jim's tentsite and figured he was getting some awesome sunset shots of the opposite ridge, then we went back to the shelter for the night.
It was around 5:30 when we started to climb into our sleeping bags and it took us 15 minutes or so to stow our gear, change into our sleeping clothes and settle in. We didn't necessarily intend to be going to sleep so early, but with the cold and the absence of other activities, resting in warm sleeping bags was really our only option. Chip had mentioned wanting a fire, but that would have meant digging down through several feet of snow first and neither of us was up for that. So into the bags we went. I was pleasantly surprised at the comfort I enjoyed. I had my winter bag inside the bivy cover with a space blanket underneath and my ultralight sleeping pad for insulation. I had been worried that the pad wouldn't be thick enough (I usually bring a Z-Rest pad for winter hikes), but it worked just fine. Combined with the bag and the bivy cover, I was nice and warm.
I had intended to sleep in my hammock on this trip, by the way. I'd found it to be very comfortable and figured it would a) help me sleep and b) offer me some relief from Chip's snoring, since I could set it up far away from him. It would also be a good back-up shelter in case the lean-to was full, so it went into the pack. In the end I decided to not use it, but I did attempt to emulate its sleeping position in the shelter. I laid my pack on its back and rested my sleeping system on top of it so my head would be inclined if I slept on my back. It worked out pretty well, though I wound up sleeping in a number of positions through the night.
So there we were, snuggled into our sleeping bags with outside temps in the teens and the day's last light still departing from the sky. I figured we'd chat a bit until a more reasonable hour and listened as Chip rustled about getting settled. Finally he was quiet, and literally within seconds a deep snoring began to emanate from the opposite end of the shelter. I couldn't believe it! How can anyone go from awake to snoring so quickly? I debated pulling out my radio and listening a bit but thought I'd try to see if I'd have any luck falling asleep. I'd taken some more of the PM Tylenol which had worked so well the previous night and wanted to give them a chance to do their work.
As it turned out, they did work, and I slept until 9:30, when Chip and I both woke up. Chip asked for the time and couldn't believe it was still so early. I took a quick walk and noted the bright moonlight (3/4 full) and the sparkling stars. The trees and slopes around the pond were especially beautiful bathed in that cold light. The rest of the night was more of the same: a few hours of sleep, then awake for a quick walk, then back to sleep. I was up at 11:00, 3:00 and 4:30...all told I probably got 10 hours of sleep. Chip said he was awake hourly all night.
I awoke for good around 5:00AM and listened to the radio until Chip started to stir at 6:15. I was first out of my bag and got the stove & snow-melting going. The pre-dawn glow on the pond and North Kinsman was very pretty during some of my early visits down to the shore. We had the usual coffee and oatmeal for breakfast and then started to pack up. From the shelter we could see the top of North Kinsman bathed in the day's first light and figured Jim was enjoying a sauna up there with the sunlight streaming in the door of his tent. We changed back into our walking clothes and bid the shelter farewell and thanks at 8:00.
There was one final attempt to find the path to Cannon in the woods, but we had no luck. Even if we'd been able to find it, it was probably not in our best interests to try to follow it. Hiking through low high-ridge trees in the winter is tough enough as the snow raises the trail height up a few feet and forces you into the branches. Doing it while also breaking trail is especially ugly. Several postings on NE hiking internet message boards have mentioned that the Kinsman Ridge trail between Kinsman Junction and the Lonesome Lake trail is rarely traveled in the winter for just that reason. As one experienced hiker posted, "Those who know, don't go."
So we just turned our toes toward Fishin' Jimmy and started back down. It was a crisp, clear day and almost all downhill, so we figured on a pleasant easy hike. I considered leaving my crampons off, knowing they'd be a problem if I wanted to do any butt glissading, but opted for the traction they offered. Chip, on the other hand, made extensive and successful use of his BG skills. Several times I had to stand aside as he swooshed past me and disappeared down the trail. A bit of wear and tear on his hindquarters, but it saved a lot of stress on his knees and thighs!
We arrived at Lonesome Lake at 10, took some final pictures, and then made our way to the opposite shore. A pair of dayhikers (Dan and Bill) was there and we had a nice chat with them as we soaked in the sun's warmth. We mentioned where we'd been and told of the unbroken trail across the ridge. They were heading up to Cannon via the Lonesome Lake trail, which they knew to be open and clear. If we'd had more dayhiking capabilities we might've stashed our overnight packs and joined them, but instead we just continued on down the trail. We ran into quite a few folks on the bottom section of the Lonesome Lake trail, maybe 8 in total hiking up for the day. At last we arrived back at the car (10:30), packed up and headed home. One stop for lunch in Plymouth (Chip's suggestion...a great diner with good veggie selections), then back to Chip's by 2 and home for me by 3.
Notes & Thoughts
Really, a great hike. Yeah, there were some steep parts of the trail, but the total hike time from the car was three hours. How nice is that?! Compared to our 11 mile, 7 hour trudge to Guyot Shelter in 2000, this was a stroll in the park! Perfect weather too, though I wouldn't have minded another 10 degrees on the overnight thermometer. So two questions remain: What else could we have done in the evening rather than going to sleep at 5:45, and could/should we have attempted the ridge crossing?
For the first question, the answer is probably "not much." The key factor was the cold, which eliminated the option of just sitting around and hanging out. With a little better forethought we might have delayed our hike up North Kinsman until sunset, returned to the shelter (using headlamps if necessary), and then started dinner. With all of the snow melting and such, that probably would have kept us active until 7:30 or 8:00. The moonlight would still have allowed us to play some Frisbee on the pond late into the evening. As it was, we probably could have gone for a walk around the pond after our Frisbee game, which we might have been able to stretch into an hour's activity. Of course a fire would have helped, offering both warmth and activity, but the snow cover made that tough. We might have been able to find a patch of rock or something down by the pond, but the winds down there would have proven problematic. In the end, it was probably just a general lack of enthusiasm that did us in. We could have hiked over to South Kinsman and used up more time, we could have explored around the pond some more, we could have climbed into our sleeping bags and sat up and talked, but ultimately we both just wanted to lie down and sleep.
As for the second question, who knows? As noted in the main text, that section of trail is rarely traveled in the winter and for good reason. It makes for such an obvious, attractive (three 4K peaks!) loop that you'd expect it to be well traveled. The fact that it isn't speaks volumes. On the other hand, it wasn't that far and the ups & downs - though significant - don't compare to the 1000-foot climbs we'd already done, and we had all day to do it. Two factors might have changed our minds. One would have been a clear indication of the trail at Kinsman Junction. On our way up N. Kinsman we passed the Mt. Kinsman Trail from the west and though it obviously hadn't been traveled since the past one or two storms, the way was still apparent. That was not the case for the trail to Cannon. Both Chip & I looked several times and we were never able to discern which way the trail went so the "path" would have been no improvement over just bushwhacking through the woods. The second factor would have been knowledge that the ridge trail from the junction with the Lonesome Lake trail to Cannon's summit was well-traveled, something we didn't find out until the next day. That would have shortened the distance we'd have to break trail to an acceptable length. Without that information we assumed we'd be plowing our way all the way the Cannon.
As noted, this really was a nice hike and I have no regrets about the decisions we made. We hiked a good distance on a tough trail to a beautiful spot, enjoyed perfect weather and great views, and returned little the worse for wear. So some goals weren't met...that just gives us an excuse to go back another year and try again!
More pictures
When: 2/23-24/02
With: Chip
Back around the holidays I got the usual "Winter hike this year?" email from Chip, to which I replied, "Maybe." We chatted a bit and marked our traditional Superbowl weekend as a target date. We considered a number of routes and destinations and decided to revisit Kinsman Pond Shelter. Several years ago we'd made three attempts to reach it via various routes (the Hell & High Water series of hikes) before finally succeeding by coming in from the west. This time we planned to try a new route from the east, a direct line from the highway using the Lonesome Lake and Fishin' Jimmy trails. Only about 3.5 miles total distance, with a couple of 1000-foot climbs along the way. It fit our new criteria for winter hikes (shorter, easier routes) and offered a shelter and nice surroundings for the night. To make things interesting we figured we could return via a ridge walk to Cannon Mt., making the hike a loop and possibly tagging three 4000-foot peaks along the way. Seemed perfect.
So why hadn't we tried this short direct route in our previous attempts? It's probably the most popular route to Kinsman Pond and certainly the most direct. It's hard to say. I recall that we did try for a shorter route on our second attempt, but that was via the Basin-Cascade trail, and we missed it because the trailhead parking lot wasn't plowed. This time I posted some queries on the Internet asking for parking info and received some good advice & directions to the appropriate parking at NH's Lafayette Campground.
The day came, I was all packed, and Chip called to cancel. His primary concern was the forecast of extreme cold temperatures (-10 degrees overnight) for the mountains that weekend, but the snow conditions were also less than ideal. A recent snow and rain had left 8-10 inches of snow on the ground covered by a thick crust of ice. Hiking through that meant breaking through the crust with snowshoes on both the step and the lift of each leg...extremely tiring. Trail reports from folks who did go up that weekend noted a lot of trips stopped short of their goals, so it's just as well we didn't go.
We rescheduled for the final weekend in February. The weather for that weekend couldn't have been much better. Clear skies, moderate temperatures (teens overnight), and no recent storms so the trails would be packed and clear. Unfortunately, despite all of the positive aspects I still had my usual panic attacks and couldn't get any sleep before the hike. I finally took some PM Tylenol around 3AM, turned off the alarm and resolved to sleep as long as I needed.
Jane was unaware of my plans and roused me at 6:15, thinking I'd overslept (I had told her I planned to be up at 6). Still groggy from the pills, I pulled on some clothes, grabbed some coffee Jane insisted on making for me, took some muffins she had toasted and stumbled out into the car for the ride to Chip's. I'd told him to expect me between 6:30 and 7:00 and it was already 6:45, so I'd be late but I didn't care.
Chip had his gear set out in the driveway when I arrived and offered to drive when I explained the situation. I accepted gratefully and we were quickly on the highway heading north. I didn't really sleep during the drive, but just kept my eyes closed and tried to recharge. By the time we made our usual stop at the state liquor store in NH (Chip got a bottle of Merlot and some vodka) I was feeling somewhat better, and I was significantly improved from that state as we approached Franconia Notch.
Now, we'd had clear sunny skies the entire drive, but as we approached the notch we found ourselves in a snow squall that swirled about between the notch's mountain walls. We both laughed...Chip always wishes for a storm for his hikes and I want clear, perfect conditions. Was this an omen? Probably not, because the snow only lasted for the time it took us to make the U-turn at the Tramway and get back to the Lafayette Campground lot. The sun started to poke out again as we pulled into our parking spot and we were good to go.
By this time I was feeling kind of okay as the after effects of the PM Tylenol had finally worn off. I sucked down a Red Bull energy drink to kick-start my internal engine and set about gearing up for the hike. A quick, cold change into my hiking bibs and boots, then a couple of top layers for warmth. The temperatures were in the 20s at the car and we needed to keep moving to stay warm. I decided to wear my crampons for the hike and carry my snowshoes, while Chip elected to bareboot the trail, leaving his instep crampons in his pack. We had one minor problem when Chip decided to help set up my hiking poles and wound up hyperextending one of the sections, but we quickly fixed it with my Leatherman tool and were on our way.
We snapped a few starting-off images (I'd brought my digital camera) and hit the trail around 10:45. Two dayhikers started up the route just before us and we wound up meeting them a few times that morning. The trail started very easily, then turned and began its ascent to Lonesome Lake (about a 1000-foot climb) via a huge switchback. At the beginning of this section we stopped briefly to shed some layers and were met by a solo overnight hiker named Jim. He was carrying an SLR camera in a chest pack and had a big tripod strapped to his backpack...out for some photos. He said he was also heading for Kinsman Pond, but was considering camping up on top of North Kinsman versus staying at the shelter. I've long wanted to put a tent up there myself and it was neat to meet someone else with the same idea.
The spot where we met Jim was the junction with the Hi Cannon trail, which we intended to use as our return route. In contrast to the clear, well-packed trail we were following, it showed little signs of travel and I figured it would prove interesting to follow. Snowshoes definitely required.
We took our time walking up the ridge, slowly regaining our hiking skills. Chip went out ahead of me, keeping up a quick steady pace. I walked more slowly, conserving my energy and grateful for the grip offered by the crampons. After about an hour of hiking the trail leveled off and arrived at the edge of Lonesome Lake. The dayhikers and Jim were both there, enjoying the sun's warmth, and the view of our destination (Kinsman Ridge) was spectacular. The dayhikers left and headed across the lake toward the hut while we took a few pictures, then we started across and quickly arrived at the opposite shore. The view back across the lake to Mt. Lafayette was also impressive and the dayhikers had chosen that spot for their lunch break.
We decided to try to find a spot up at the hut for our lunch break, but were unsure of which trail would take us there. We started on one path along the lake's edge and soon met some more day hikers. They told us we were heading the wrong way and said they were aiming for Fishin' Jimmy as well, so we turned around and followed them back to the hut, which turned out to be just a short distance from the water. We found a spot on one of the bunkhouse porches that was clear of snow and dropped our packs for a short food break. I dug into my supply of Fig Newtons, fruit snacks and Snickers while Chip worked on his usual Wendy-made sandwich.
The refueling was helpful and the break was nice, but we quickly grew chilled and couldn't really linger over our lunch. The packs were returned to our shoulders and we started up the Fishin' Jimmy trail. It was a very pretty path as it led away from the hut, winding through the woods and making small ascents and descents. We met up with a couple with a couple of dogs soon after the hut, coming back down from the top. The dogs were both wearing packs and the owners cautioned us that the dogs got nervous around other people. We passed them quickly and were soon back by ourselves.
Thanks to the food, the rest break and the relatively easy trail, I was feeling pretty good about this time. That changed as the trail began its first steep climb. Maps and trail guides had mentioned a few tough sections, and one trip report had pictures of wooden bars bolted to a rock face, so I knew this was coming. Foreknowledge didn't make the climb any easier though. All I could do was take my time and plod along one step after another. Again, my crampons and poles were greatly appreciated, and I couldn't fathom how Chip was making progress with just his boots.
I took several short rests and practiced my mountaineer's step to keep going and it all worked. The trail leveled off and I was walking through a flat section of forest with blue skies visible through the trees. There was even a short descent and I was convinced I was heading toward the shelter after only an hour of walking from the hut. Alas, it was not to be. The trail made a turn and began a second climb, equally steep (if not worse) than the first section. I kept looking for the bolted-on boards but never saw them (probably hidden under all the snow), though I did notice the large boulder mentioned as a landmark in the guidebooks.
Again, rest stops and slow stepping kept me moving forward and finally I looked up to see Chip and Jim standing at a sunny overlook. "Just tell me we're almost there," I called and they confirmed we were indeed. I hiked up to join them and took in the awesome view of the Franconia Ridge bathed in sunlight against a deep blue background. The stunted trees surrounding our vantagepoint were coated with a fresh layer of powdery snow that sparkled in the sunlight, and everything seemed fresh and clean. Best of all, the hard climbing was over and we only had another 100 vertical feet to go to the shelter.
We rested a bit at the overlook while Jim continued on ahead, then started on the final part of our hike. Just a few minutes later we came to the trail signs marking Kinsman Junction. I checked out the signs and noted the trails intersecting there, looking for the ridge route we planned to take the next day. There was the trail we were on, the trail to the shelter, and the trail heading up the ridge to North Kinsman, but no sign of the ridge trail to Cannon. The trail signs had arrows that pointed in the proper direction, but there was no sign in the woods and snow of any track. I turned to Chip and said it looked like we'd be going back out via Fishin' Jimmy. He held out hope he could convince me to give it a try, but I'd pretty much decided already that a day of high ridge trail breaking wasn't a good idea.
We took the turn and made our way to the shelter. The path that way wasn't as well-trodden as the main trail and we had to work our way around a number of downed trees before we arrived at the lean-to. Both Chip & I noted that it didn't match our recollections from our previous visit (seven years earlier). We remembered more of an open area. [A check of the photos from that earlier trip showed that there was a lot less snow on the ground then, which might account for the impression of more space since less would be taken up by snow]. Happily we found we were the only ones there so far and we moved in to claim some floor space. The center of the shelter was covered with snow almost all the way to the back wall, but the two ends were clear and we each choose an end for our gear.
Free of the packs at last, we wandered down to the pond to check out the views. Once again we ran into the two dayhikers who'd directed us back at the hut. They continued to wander back and forth from the shelter to the pond several times while we were there. A bit odd. Another fellow was at the pond, resting in the sunlight. He mentioned that he'd left a companion back at the overlook and wondered if we'd passed him along the way. We told him we hadn't, which concerned him a bit. The only other way his friend could have gone was up North Kinsman, which meant he was going in the wrong direction. To make matters worse, his friend was the one with the car keys! We told the hiker we were heading up to the peak and would keep an eye out for his friend.
It had been around 2PM when we reached the shelter (2.4 miles from the hut in about 2 hours) and we wanted to head up to N. Kinsman while we still had daylight, so we threw some snacks into our pockets and Chip's daypack and returned to the trail. I recalled that it wasn't that long or difficult a climb up and I was correct. It was certainly more pleasant hiking without the backpacks that's for sure. We met one older gentleman heading down as we climbed and we asked if he were the missing friend. Nope. Soon we were up on top, where we joined an older couple (also not the friend) who were realizing they needed to start back down quickly to get back to their car before dark (it was 3PM). We also re-met Jim, who had set up camp on a ledge overlooking the valley below. A spectacular spot, with a clear view east and the mountain behind him to block the westerly winds. He had his camera set up on its tripod and was just stamping down the snow for his tent. I was envious.
We stayed a bit, took a few photos, then got ready to return. We had thought of trying to run over to South Kinsman to "claim" that 4000 footer, but neither of us were really interested after all and we elected to just head back down to the shelter. We made one quick stop along the way to check out a contribution from Dave (joining us in spirit if not in person), and then continued toward the pond. At the trail junction we met up with the older couple again. I was a little concerned about their ability to make the 3.5 mile journey in the 2 hours of daylight they had left, but they seemed to know what they were doing and we left them to their walk. We took another look while we were there for the trail to Cannon, but were still unable to discern the route.
Back at the shelter, we now had the area all to ourselves. No one else had come up to spend the night and the dayhikers had all departed. Just the way we liked it. Done with hiking for the day, we changed into dry clothes and settled in for the evening. There was no source of open water available, so our first order of business was melting snow for cooking & drinking water. Chip fired up his Whisperlight stove and we soon had a pot of steaming water ready. We each took a cupful for decaf tea, then poured in a bag of tortellini to start cooking. We enjoyed the pasta with a salmon/herb sauce and swigs of a fine Merlot Slurpie (!). I forgot the homemade sun-dried tomato & basil bread I'd brought but that was okay.
After dinner we cleaned up and then went down to the pond to play a little Frisbee in the day's fading light. It took us awhile to adjust to the wind and the need for gloves, and the occasional loud cracking sound of the ice was a bit unnerving, but we had a great throw anyway. I found it loosened up some of my kinked-up muscles from the hiking and it definitely provided a nice pre-sleep warm-up. We took note of the last bits of sun glowing up on Jim's tentsite and figured he was getting some awesome sunset shots of the opposite ridge, then we went back to the shelter for the night.
It was around 5:30 when we started to climb into our sleeping bags and it took us 15 minutes or so to stow our gear, change into our sleeping clothes and settle in. We didn't necessarily intend to be going to sleep so early, but with the cold and the absence of other activities, resting in warm sleeping bags was really our only option. Chip had mentioned wanting a fire, but that would have meant digging down through several feet of snow first and neither of us was up for that. So into the bags we went. I was pleasantly surprised at the comfort I enjoyed. I had my winter bag inside the bivy cover with a space blanket underneath and my ultralight sleeping pad for insulation. I had been worried that the pad wouldn't be thick enough (I usually bring a Z-Rest pad for winter hikes), but it worked just fine. Combined with the bag and the bivy cover, I was nice and warm.
I had intended to sleep in my hammock on this trip, by the way. I'd found it to be very comfortable and figured it would a) help me sleep and b) offer me some relief from Chip's snoring, since I could set it up far away from him. It would also be a good back-up shelter in case the lean-to was full, so it went into the pack. In the end I decided to not use it, but I did attempt to emulate its sleeping position in the shelter. I laid my pack on its back and rested my sleeping system on top of it so my head would be inclined if I slept on my back. It worked out pretty well, though I wound up sleeping in a number of positions through the night.
So there we were, snuggled into our sleeping bags with outside temps in the teens and the day's last light still departing from the sky. I figured we'd chat a bit until a more reasonable hour and listened as Chip rustled about getting settled. Finally he was quiet, and literally within seconds a deep snoring began to emanate from the opposite end of the shelter. I couldn't believe it! How can anyone go from awake to snoring so quickly? I debated pulling out my radio and listening a bit but thought I'd try to see if I'd have any luck falling asleep. I'd taken some more of the PM Tylenol which had worked so well the previous night and wanted to give them a chance to do their work.
As it turned out, they did work, and I slept until 9:30, when Chip and I both woke up. Chip asked for the time and couldn't believe it was still so early. I took a quick walk and noted the bright moonlight (3/4 full) and the sparkling stars. The trees and slopes around the pond were especially beautiful bathed in that cold light. The rest of the night was more of the same: a few hours of sleep, then awake for a quick walk, then back to sleep. I was up at 11:00, 3:00 and 4:30...all told I probably got 10 hours of sleep. Chip said he was awake hourly all night.
I awoke for good around 5:00AM and listened to the radio until Chip started to stir at 6:15. I was first out of my bag and got the stove & snow-melting going. The pre-dawn glow on the pond and North Kinsman was very pretty during some of my early visits down to the shore. We had the usual coffee and oatmeal for breakfast and then started to pack up. From the shelter we could see the top of North Kinsman bathed in the day's first light and figured Jim was enjoying a sauna up there with the sunlight streaming in the door of his tent. We changed back into our walking clothes and bid the shelter farewell and thanks at 8:00.
There was one final attempt to find the path to Cannon in the woods, but we had no luck. Even if we'd been able to find it, it was probably not in our best interests to try to follow it. Hiking through low high-ridge trees in the winter is tough enough as the snow raises the trail height up a few feet and forces you into the branches. Doing it while also breaking trail is especially ugly. Several postings on NE hiking internet message boards have mentioned that the Kinsman Ridge trail between Kinsman Junction and the Lonesome Lake trail is rarely traveled in the winter for just that reason. As one experienced hiker posted, "Those who know, don't go."
So we just turned our toes toward Fishin' Jimmy and started back down. It was a crisp, clear day and almost all downhill, so we figured on a pleasant easy hike. I considered leaving my crampons off, knowing they'd be a problem if I wanted to do any butt glissading, but opted for the traction they offered. Chip, on the other hand, made extensive and successful use of his BG skills. Several times I had to stand aside as he swooshed past me and disappeared down the trail. A bit of wear and tear on his hindquarters, but it saved a lot of stress on his knees and thighs!
We arrived at Lonesome Lake at 10, took some final pictures, and then made our way to the opposite shore. A pair of dayhikers (Dan and Bill) was there and we had a nice chat with them as we soaked in the sun's warmth. We mentioned where we'd been and told of the unbroken trail across the ridge. They were heading up to Cannon via the Lonesome Lake trail, which they knew to be open and clear. If we'd had more dayhiking capabilities we might've stashed our overnight packs and joined them, but instead we just continued on down the trail. We ran into quite a few folks on the bottom section of the Lonesome Lake trail, maybe 8 in total hiking up for the day. At last we arrived back at the car (10:30), packed up and headed home. One stop for lunch in Plymouth (Chip's suggestion...a great diner with good veggie selections), then back to Chip's by 2 and home for me by 3.
Notes & Thoughts
Really, a great hike. Yeah, there were some steep parts of the trail, but the total hike time from the car was three hours. How nice is that?! Compared to our 11 mile, 7 hour trudge to Guyot Shelter in 2000, this was a stroll in the park! Perfect weather too, though I wouldn't have minded another 10 degrees on the overnight thermometer. So two questions remain: What else could we have done in the evening rather than going to sleep at 5:45, and could/should we have attempted the ridge crossing?
For the first question, the answer is probably "not much." The key factor was the cold, which eliminated the option of just sitting around and hanging out. With a little better forethought we might have delayed our hike up North Kinsman until sunset, returned to the shelter (using headlamps if necessary), and then started dinner. With all of the snow melting and such, that probably would have kept us active until 7:30 or 8:00. The moonlight would still have allowed us to play some Frisbee on the pond late into the evening. As it was, we probably could have gone for a walk around the pond after our Frisbee game, which we might have been able to stretch into an hour's activity. Of course a fire would have helped, offering both warmth and activity, but the snow cover made that tough. We might have been able to find a patch of rock or something down by the pond, but the winds down there would have proven problematic. In the end, it was probably just a general lack of enthusiasm that did us in. We could have hiked over to South Kinsman and used up more time, we could have explored around the pond some more, we could have climbed into our sleeping bags and sat up and talked, but ultimately we both just wanted to lie down and sleep.
As for the second question, who knows? As noted in the main text, that section of trail is rarely traveled in the winter and for good reason. It makes for such an obvious, attractive (three 4K peaks!) loop that you'd expect it to be well traveled. The fact that it isn't speaks volumes. On the other hand, it wasn't that far and the ups & downs - though significant - don't compare to the 1000-foot climbs we'd already done, and we had all day to do it. Two factors might have changed our minds. One would have been a clear indication of the trail at Kinsman Junction. On our way up N. Kinsman we passed the Mt. Kinsman Trail from the west and though it obviously hadn't been traveled since the past one or two storms, the way was still apparent. That was not the case for the trail to Cannon. Both Chip & I looked several times and we were never able to discern which way the trail went so the "path" would have been no improvement over just bushwhacking through the woods. The second factor would have been knowledge that the ridge trail from the junction with the Lonesome Lake trail to Cannon's summit was well-traveled, something we didn't find out until the next day. That would have shortened the distance we'd have to break trail to an acceptable length. Without that information we assumed we'd be plowing our way all the way the Cannon.
As noted, this really was a nice hike and I have no regrets about the decisions we made. We hiked a good distance on a tough trail to a beautiful spot, enjoyed perfect weather and great views, and returned little the worse for wear. So some goals weren't met...that just gives us an excuse to go back another year and try again!
More pictures
