This was written partly as a TR and partly as a rough guide for anyone interested in doing the same hike.
One year ago, when Glen and I walked into the parking area at 1:30 am after 21 hours of nearly continuous hiking I knew I wasn't done. We had struggled way too much on several segments of the journey and 21 hours was way too long. I thought about that trip off and on all year long and in the weeks leading up to yesterday I relaxingly perused maps and tracklogs and read notes. Then I pieced together what I hoped would be my definitive route. As an example as how how this trip evolved I solved one small piece of the puzzle when I went back to ST1 for my lost camera.
I was convinced that using a gps from start to finish was going to be key to shaving off at least 3 hours. However, I didn't load a tracklog into the unit and press goto. Rather, I had gleaned key waypoints that were anywhere from 100 feet to .7 miles apart using various logs and from memory. Two key areas were very short and very steep corridors that I had discovered running down the east sides of the summit blocks of 4 and 2.
I would be using the compass a lot, the map somewhat and the gps would quarterback the whole thing. This turned out to be a very potent and efficient system. Being mostly a map and compass aficionado I marveled at the empowerment I was able gain through the GPS. I had a series of 5 routes and about 70 waypoints loaded and found the bright pink line that shows when you activate a route very helpful as a general guide. I zoomed in and out and tweaked the actual “feet on the ground” route at least a hundred times as well as placing a few waypoints on the fly ahead of my position. I used the compass a lot more than the GPS because once I had a bearing it was a lot faster to look at the compass, which I held in my hand for certain key stretches. If your WP is more than .25 miles away deviating around obstacles, including small hills doesn't change your bearing that much. When you get close though it can change real fast.
ST4 was first up from Averyville. The Pine Pond Road and the old woods road which take up the first warm-up hour I did mostly in the dark under a full moon. Once you begin the actual bushwhack a single compass bearing gets you most of the way there through nice open woods and gentle slopes. My shadow was my compass for most of this segment. At 2300 feet and ¾ miles NE of the summit you make a turn into the drainage from the 2-4 col and head for it. The woods are open and the drainage is an excellent hand rail. The map shows you how closed in the basin is being between 2 and 10 (or, 2-North) and the NE ridge of 4. On a previous 5 in 1 attempt I tried approaching 4 via this ridge and got slowed down by thick vegetation. The drainage option is vastly superior. I had a wp indicating when to turn towards the sumit and then another one .6 mi. further up. The woods are mostly open and thickets and steep knolls are easily avoided ( my rule here: when presented with an impediment deviate left). After that .6 (steady climb) I had a string of wps 100 feet apart in my “magic corridor”. I was .10 from the summit so I bounced from wp to wp along an easy channel using the compass to keep me strictly on course. The final 50 feet was through horribly thick and gnarly spruce. The spruce around the viewing area have grown so much the there are no views any more. The best views are just down below to the south. I stayed there just long enough to check the elapsed time (4h30 mins), switch maps and activate my 4-2 route. From 4 to the 4-2 col is a beautiful hike. I stayed lower under the col than usual and I think that's a better option although you might not agree looking at a map.
Once I was at the col I considered 4 to be done and 2 to start. 2's a tough nut. I learned the hard way to circumnavigate the northern bump and stay just under and to the east of the summit field (of blowdown and crap) between the bumps. However, I would swear it's getting thicker and thicker in there. From the col it's only a 600 foot climb-peanuts, but I never find it easy and on this particular occasion ran into massive cliffs that necessitated a deviation and a steep grunt through a steep crack when they were nearly fully petered out. Same quick time and map check scene on 2 as 4 and I was off. The summit of 2 has 3 bumps and from the true summit towards ST1 you go over the SE bump. Glen and I went right over this bump and lost precious time and energy fighting it out with the vegetation. I decided to stay north and just below and was well rewarded. Next comes the drop to the 2-1 col, which starts off impossibly thick and gnarly and can stay that was all the way down. However, if you move right (contour lines slightly thicker) you will soon enough be rewarded with reasonably open terrain. By the way, 1 looks impossibly far away when you're on 2, don't let that affect you.
Down in the drainage I filled up and was very happy to be done with 2 with nothing to complain about and I kept moving (note to self always on a bushwhack: “maintain forward momentum”). My next wp was named “evil” and it was only .3 away. This wp was key and hard-won knowledge from a previous trip. Instead of contouring around the west bump and gully of ST1 I had walked right into it and paid dearly. After “evil” my next point was aptly named “wall”. To there is an easy .2 with no elevation change. Above you the summit block towers broodingly. It's an amazing place to be but the best was yet to come. The wall is 300 feet straight up and then you're done with one. Once again I barely stopped and would not be needing anything other than the compass for a spell.
You drop down 20 feet to the north and then it's due west (religiously I might add) until you have dropped half-way or more into the evil gully. Now all your senses should be on high alert because of massive cliffs below you. When confronted with air below you and there is lots of that move right and you can carefully find a way down but the opportunities for serious injury (or worse!) are at foot. Down in the evil gully hard-pressed against One you're in the best of the best. As you descend steeply the magnificent cliffs are always at hand and they get bigger and better as you go. The trick is to stay close to the cliffs until a certain point and then you make a turn and leave them behind. I turned a bit too soon and hit thick and gnarly impedimenta of the living variety and quickly bailed down a very steep slope into darker and more bushwhacker friendly woods. At 3300 feet there is a big wide-open fen and from here you have stunning views all around but the most impressive sight is looking right up into ST1 and the evil gully and sub-peak. It doesn't get any more wild and rugged than that.
My next wp was along ways off and is a cool phenomenon where two brooks approach each other at a 180 angle. Where they join they both turn 90 and thus form a tee. I checked and still had a quart of water and decided it would be enough to get me up and over 5, which was only 500 yards away. It seemed a lot further and felt steeper than what the map suggests but I put that down to “battle fatigue”. I wasn't going to stop on 5 but then decided that good adventurers take the time required to take care of themselves and so I sat down and did a full footbed and sock change and applied body glide to my feet. I felt fesh and brand new after that. My plan was to go to the low point between 5's two summits and then turn straight downhill to 3 but decided to angle over to that imaginary line directly from the true (north) summit. This was a mistake. However, I encountered a small drainage and there I saw a series of a half dozen sawn logs placed in parallel to one another spanning this 3-foot wide intermittent stream. This was deep in the Sawtooths, near the top of 5 on a wicked steep slope. Interesting.
The drop was quite tough for the first half but then it opened up. At the drainage below 5 I was at 2700 feet. I was headed for a very interesting col to my west that lines up more or less between 5 and 3. Glen and I had a real bad time last year because we crossed into the col across a broad shoulder to its north. All I can say is, “don't go in there!!” In fact I thought I had myself lined up just right but found myself in too-thick woods so I cut downhill due south for 50 yards and only cleared it completely by getting into the lowest point and aiming directly uphill from there. There is no stream to speak of in there and you top out after only 100 feet of ascent.
Then you quickly enter an open stream-bed (lots of good water) that you can follow for quite a while (300 yards maybe) getting into good position for the grand finale. I took on two quarts of precious water and began the final 850 feet of ascent. When Glen and I did it my memories are of a moderately easy climb but I found it a lot thicker and steeper (this in spite of having had a much easier journey thus far, and being fitter and lighter). The final 300 feet of ascent was straight up steep, interspersed with rock walls and turned into a very long, dragged out affair of maximum effort and output. I didn't record a tracklog last year and now I was wishing I had. However, when I reached the top (industrial quantities of blowdown up there) I was very surprised to see it was only 5:10 and I had left 4 around 4. Not that I was complaining, I had other things to do.
I headed down the ridge NE and it is really easy to off the crest to one side (especially the right as you descend). It got very thick and gnarly and very, very steep and this seemed to hold me back for several minutes. Then I got views of Moose Pond way down below in the distance. I was torn between sticking with my intended route which I knew to be good and making a bee-line for the pond. My route, all nicely laid out in my gps and tried and true, was a bit longer but the bee-line involved a lot of tightly bunched up contour lines and a large area that the map indicates is flooded. Bowing to the lateness, and the accumulated fatigue I went with the sure thing and followed my little string of wps. I decided that putting faith in my pre-trip study and route strategy had paid major dividends thus far so why rock the boat now? When I judged the woods to my liking I began what I though was a diagonal short-cut but my tracklog says I made a 90 degree turn at the exact planned spot at 2800 feet.
I had a mile and half of easy-peasy whacking ahead of me in failing light and it seemed to go on for a long time. I still had the 2400 foot hill due south of Moose Pond to traverse and I knew that trying to walk along the shore of the pond was no go due to cliffs so I improvised a route mid-way between the highest point and the pond and still had to climb steeply around cliffs through thick terrain. So close to the NPT yet so far! Keep moving!
I finally stood on the trail after an easy rock hop of the outlet at 7:20, 14 hours of whacking with one 10-minute break. I was hoping to make it to the Old NPT before dark but I had a ways to go so I jogged and sped-hiked most of the way and made the two miles in under an hour with plenty of daylight which came in handy. The split is obvious but flooding has increased and I completely lost the trace of the path and floundered in ankle deep swamp water and boot sucking mud. It was at that precise time that it began raining, hard. Turns out that the trace of the Old NPT is very accurately displayed on the GPS map and I was able to pick up the trail quickly enough. I floundered on a second occasion in even deeper water but by that time I could smell the end and probably wouldn't have cared if it started snowing.
Just before an opening at a crossing a woodcock flew up and fluttered around in front of me and my headlamp lit up its eyes and silhouetted the rest of it and it's big beak against the still bright swamp behind it. When I got to the car I saw I had done the hike in 17 hours instead of my goal of 18. Beating that time might be possible given a route change off of 3. But even being increasingly fit has it's limitations due to the nature of bushwhacking through such thick and gnarly woods for so long. Running hard and fast over the trailed portions might shave maybe 30 minutes.
One year ago, when Glen and I walked into the parking area at 1:30 am after 21 hours of nearly continuous hiking I knew I wasn't done. We had struggled way too much on several segments of the journey and 21 hours was way too long. I thought about that trip off and on all year long and in the weeks leading up to yesterday I relaxingly perused maps and tracklogs and read notes. Then I pieced together what I hoped would be my definitive route. As an example as how how this trip evolved I solved one small piece of the puzzle when I went back to ST1 for my lost camera.
I was convinced that using a gps from start to finish was going to be key to shaving off at least 3 hours. However, I didn't load a tracklog into the unit and press goto. Rather, I had gleaned key waypoints that were anywhere from 100 feet to .7 miles apart using various logs and from memory. Two key areas were very short and very steep corridors that I had discovered running down the east sides of the summit blocks of 4 and 2.
I would be using the compass a lot, the map somewhat and the gps would quarterback the whole thing. This turned out to be a very potent and efficient system. Being mostly a map and compass aficionado I marveled at the empowerment I was able gain through the GPS. I had a series of 5 routes and about 70 waypoints loaded and found the bright pink line that shows when you activate a route very helpful as a general guide. I zoomed in and out and tweaked the actual “feet on the ground” route at least a hundred times as well as placing a few waypoints on the fly ahead of my position. I used the compass a lot more than the GPS because once I had a bearing it was a lot faster to look at the compass, which I held in my hand for certain key stretches. If your WP is more than .25 miles away deviating around obstacles, including small hills doesn't change your bearing that much. When you get close though it can change real fast.
ST4 was first up from Averyville. The Pine Pond Road and the old woods road which take up the first warm-up hour I did mostly in the dark under a full moon. Once you begin the actual bushwhack a single compass bearing gets you most of the way there through nice open woods and gentle slopes. My shadow was my compass for most of this segment. At 2300 feet and ¾ miles NE of the summit you make a turn into the drainage from the 2-4 col and head for it. The woods are open and the drainage is an excellent hand rail. The map shows you how closed in the basin is being between 2 and 10 (or, 2-North) and the NE ridge of 4. On a previous 5 in 1 attempt I tried approaching 4 via this ridge and got slowed down by thick vegetation. The drainage option is vastly superior. I had a wp indicating when to turn towards the sumit and then another one .6 mi. further up. The woods are mostly open and thickets and steep knolls are easily avoided ( my rule here: when presented with an impediment deviate left). After that .6 (steady climb) I had a string of wps 100 feet apart in my “magic corridor”. I was .10 from the summit so I bounced from wp to wp along an easy channel using the compass to keep me strictly on course. The final 50 feet was through horribly thick and gnarly spruce. The spruce around the viewing area have grown so much the there are no views any more. The best views are just down below to the south. I stayed there just long enough to check the elapsed time (4h30 mins), switch maps and activate my 4-2 route. From 4 to the 4-2 col is a beautiful hike. I stayed lower under the col than usual and I think that's a better option although you might not agree looking at a map.
Once I was at the col I considered 4 to be done and 2 to start. 2's a tough nut. I learned the hard way to circumnavigate the northern bump and stay just under and to the east of the summit field (of blowdown and crap) between the bumps. However, I would swear it's getting thicker and thicker in there. From the col it's only a 600 foot climb-peanuts, but I never find it easy and on this particular occasion ran into massive cliffs that necessitated a deviation and a steep grunt through a steep crack when they were nearly fully petered out. Same quick time and map check scene on 2 as 4 and I was off. The summit of 2 has 3 bumps and from the true summit towards ST1 you go over the SE bump. Glen and I went right over this bump and lost precious time and energy fighting it out with the vegetation. I decided to stay north and just below and was well rewarded. Next comes the drop to the 2-1 col, which starts off impossibly thick and gnarly and can stay that was all the way down. However, if you move right (contour lines slightly thicker) you will soon enough be rewarded with reasonably open terrain. By the way, 1 looks impossibly far away when you're on 2, don't let that affect you.
Down in the drainage I filled up and was very happy to be done with 2 with nothing to complain about and I kept moving (note to self always on a bushwhack: “maintain forward momentum”). My next wp was named “evil” and it was only .3 away. This wp was key and hard-won knowledge from a previous trip. Instead of contouring around the west bump and gully of ST1 I had walked right into it and paid dearly. After “evil” my next point was aptly named “wall”. To there is an easy .2 with no elevation change. Above you the summit block towers broodingly. It's an amazing place to be but the best was yet to come. The wall is 300 feet straight up and then you're done with one. Once again I barely stopped and would not be needing anything other than the compass for a spell.
You drop down 20 feet to the north and then it's due west (religiously I might add) until you have dropped half-way or more into the evil gully. Now all your senses should be on high alert because of massive cliffs below you. When confronted with air below you and there is lots of that move right and you can carefully find a way down but the opportunities for serious injury (or worse!) are at foot. Down in the evil gully hard-pressed against One you're in the best of the best. As you descend steeply the magnificent cliffs are always at hand and they get bigger and better as you go. The trick is to stay close to the cliffs until a certain point and then you make a turn and leave them behind. I turned a bit too soon and hit thick and gnarly impedimenta of the living variety and quickly bailed down a very steep slope into darker and more bushwhacker friendly woods. At 3300 feet there is a big wide-open fen and from here you have stunning views all around but the most impressive sight is looking right up into ST1 and the evil gully and sub-peak. It doesn't get any more wild and rugged than that.
My next wp was along ways off and is a cool phenomenon where two brooks approach each other at a 180 angle. Where they join they both turn 90 and thus form a tee. I checked and still had a quart of water and decided it would be enough to get me up and over 5, which was only 500 yards away. It seemed a lot further and felt steeper than what the map suggests but I put that down to “battle fatigue”. I wasn't going to stop on 5 but then decided that good adventurers take the time required to take care of themselves and so I sat down and did a full footbed and sock change and applied body glide to my feet. I felt fesh and brand new after that. My plan was to go to the low point between 5's two summits and then turn straight downhill to 3 but decided to angle over to that imaginary line directly from the true (north) summit. This was a mistake. However, I encountered a small drainage and there I saw a series of a half dozen sawn logs placed in parallel to one another spanning this 3-foot wide intermittent stream. This was deep in the Sawtooths, near the top of 5 on a wicked steep slope. Interesting.
The drop was quite tough for the first half but then it opened up. At the drainage below 5 I was at 2700 feet. I was headed for a very interesting col to my west that lines up more or less between 5 and 3. Glen and I had a real bad time last year because we crossed into the col across a broad shoulder to its north. All I can say is, “don't go in there!!” In fact I thought I had myself lined up just right but found myself in too-thick woods so I cut downhill due south for 50 yards and only cleared it completely by getting into the lowest point and aiming directly uphill from there. There is no stream to speak of in there and you top out after only 100 feet of ascent.
Then you quickly enter an open stream-bed (lots of good water) that you can follow for quite a while (300 yards maybe) getting into good position for the grand finale. I took on two quarts of precious water and began the final 850 feet of ascent. When Glen and I did it my memories are of a moderately easy climb but I found it a lot thicker and steeper (this in spite of having had a much easier journey thus far, and being fitter and lighter). The final 300 feet of ascent was straight up steep, interspersed with rock walls and turned into a very long, dragged out affair of maximum effort and output. I didn't record a tracklog last year and now I was wishing I had. However, when I reached the top (industrial quantities of blowdown up there) I was very surprised to see it was only 5:10 and I had left 4 around 4. Not that I was complaining, I had other things to do.
I headed down the ridge NE and it is really easy to off the crest to one side (especially the right as you descend). It got very thick and gnarly and very, very steep and this seemed to hold me back for several minutes. Then I got views of Moose Pond way down below in the distance. I was torn between sticking with my intended route which I knew to be good and making a bee-line for the pond. My route, all nicely laid out in my gps and tried and true, was a bit longer but the bee-line involved a lot of tightly bunched up contour lines and a large area that the map indicates is flooded. Bowing to the lateness, and the accumulated fatigue I went with the sure thing and followed my little string of wps. I decided that putting faith in my pre-trip study and route strategy had paid major dividends thus far so why rock the boat now? When I judged the woods to my liking I began what I though was a diagonal short-cut but my tracklog says I made a 90 degree turn at the exact planned spot at 2800 feet.
I had a mile and half of easy-peasy whacking ahead of me in failing light and it seemed to go on for a long time. I still had the 2400 foot hill due south of Moose Pond to traverse and I knew that trying to walk along the shore of the pond was no go due to cliffs so I improvised a route mid-way between the highest point and the pond and still had to climb steeply around cliffs through thick terrain. So close to the NPT yet so far! Keep moving!
I finally stood on the trail after an easy rock hop of the outlet at 7:20, 14 hours of whacking with one 10-minute break. I was hoping to make it to the Old NPT before dark but I had a ways to go so I jogged and sped-hiked most of the way and made the two miles in under an hour with plenty of daylight which came in handy. The split is obvious but flooding has increased and I completely lost the trace of the path and floundered in ankle deep swamp water and boot sucking mud. It was at that precise time that it began raining, hard. Turns out that the trace of the Old NPT is very accurately displayed on the GPS map and I was able to pick up the trail quickly enough. I floundered on a second occasion in even deeper water but by that time I could smell the end and probably wouldn't have cared if it started snowing.
Just before an opening at a crossing a woodcock flew up and fluttered around in front of me and my headlamp lit up its eyes and silhouetted the rest of it and it's big beak against the still bright swamp behind it. When I got to the car I saw I had done the hike in 17 hours instead of my goal of 18. Beating that time might be possible given a route change off of 3. But even being increasingly fit has it's limitations due to the nature of bushwhacking through such thick and gnarly woods for so long. Running hard and fast over the trailed portions might shave maybe 30 minutes.
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