Preamble:
I left directly from work anticipating a very early start the next morning and would do Dix-Hough-Dix. The trouble began at the border when the snow commenced. It began to look like I’d be getting to bed later than my “best-laid- plans”. There were cars in the ditch and at my exit, no. 34 onto the 9N, the Northway was closed and all southbound vehicles were shunted onto the 9N. I got stuck behind an 18 wheeler and a long line of cars doing about 25mph. 3 of us with Quebec plates pulled out to pass the line of cars all bearing New York plates. Then, further down the road, the lead Quebec vehicle, upon making the hard right handed turn as you leave Ausable Forks, slid into the guard rail and made a mess out of the left-hand side of his vehicle.
In Keene, I filled my tank and prepared my gear to have to walk up the hill to Scooterville. Sure enough there was a vehicle stuck part-way up the first steep hill and I spent 30 minutes trying to help out before giving up and spiked my way up. Looking out the window I saw a vehicle slowly make its way to Randomscoots cabin and then a second vehicle slid off the road and remained at a tilted angle. We managed to get the vehicle turned around (very hairy watching the big 4wd truck slide like a sled) and clear of the road so the plow would be able to come through later that night..
It was nearly midnight when I went to bed and I decided not to set an alarm, which was wise. I awoke at 7:30!
End of preamble
And after the usual fussing around I got underway at 9:00. I was the only car in the Round Pond lot and no one had signed out for 3 days. The trail was covered by a uniform blanket of beautiful fresh white snow. I call it a trail but we all know it’s really a rock and root filled deepening rut cum waterway. It took me 25 minutes to get to Round Pond. I had guesstimated 5 hours to Dix. The beautiful snow hid all of the irregularities and so when stepping my ankles would rapidly invert or evert and my weight would rapidly slide into the inter-obstacle crevice. My center of gravity was thus tossed about willy-nilly like small ship in stormy waters and my trunk muscles and arms got terrific workouts.
From the TH I made it to the Noonmark junction in 1:26 which I decided wasn’t that bad in spite of the energy expenditure. The woods were awesome. Deadly silent and muffled. The “trail” in addition to be strewn with impedimenta was either very soggy or under water. Keep on trucking! I was surprised to find someone ensconced in the LT. He had come in when there was no snow and had walked from the Hostel and had taken the Noonmark trail from the AMR parking area. We chatted a bit and off I went. The river was easy to cross so I left my Crocs in the LT, saving a nearly pound of resistance training. This was made up for by the snowshoes strapped to my pack.
The trail after the LT grew increasingly difficult and I stumbled continuously over non identified lying objects and stepped into water that luckily never soaked through my new Summit county boots . I wore Hillsounds and the snow balled up relentlessly. Usually I could scrape it off but often I had to pulverize the globs with my hiking poles. Finally, I approached the slide ( tell-tale thicket of saplings) and began punching through into too-deep water but somehow managed to keep my feet dry. I skirted that section and got onto the lower slide. Here I punched through with every little step into 4-6 inches of slush and when I made the traverse to the cairn and the woods the water had dammed up into greater depths under a half inch of ice. There were views part-way up Noonmark and Giant-RPR .
I entered the woods to be free of the wind and spent some time repairing one Hillsound (torn rubber eyelet) with tie wraps, feeding, watering and jettisoning some 5 pounds of ballast. The hour was getting late-ish but I decided to keep moving further away from my car and all it represented. The ascending wasn’t too bad but I worried about the descent so I down-climbed a particularly steep section and was re-assured. It was difficult to assess whether I was stepping onto ice or rock or roots but all in all it wasn’t bad. However, I began to detect a wavering in my enthusiasm. I already knew that the summit was out of reach as a function of the fullness of my bucket-of-life. So, in some ways I was just putting in time working hard, going nowhere slowly.
I did some mental arithmetic and said, “that’s it”. I checked my watch and saw I had left the slide 30 minutes ago. I descended gingerly in 25 catching my Hillsounds points on all the unidentified lying objects beneath the snow. Try as I might I couldn’t prevent this catchiness from occurring so I went very, very carefully. Down at the slide I re-attached the snowshoes and picked up my heavy camera and reversed the long approach walk. I decided to beat all of my splits and actually attempted to shuffle/jog down the trail, which was not intelligent, but I did it anyway. I found that by increasing my speed my loss of balance increased by an exponential function and to boot I was now getting spun around. I was glad to pause at the LT and chat with its denizen who would be attempting Dix-Hough-Dix himself.
The segment from the LT to the Noonmark junction was the easiest of all, although I discovered there are a great many gentle uphills along the way. Once I was down at Round Pond I saw many fresh beaver trails in the snow and heard several tail slaps in the darkening gloom. The surface was glass calm and there was a bit of light left. I signed out after 9 hours of getting spanked and someone (Winn reach?) had drawn a smiley face next to my name and wrote, "if that’s Neil".
When I got to my car I was very happy to have turned around when I did. I think you can conclude by my report that the conditions are not quite at their ideal level.
I left directly from work anticipating a very early start the next morning and would do Dix-Hough-Dix. The trouble began at the border when the snow commenced. It began to look like I’d be getting to bed later than my “best-laid- plans”. There were cars in the ditch and at my exit, no. 34 onto the 9N, the Northway was closed and all southbound vehicles were shunted onto the 9N. I got stuck behind an 18 wheeler and a long line of cars doing about 25mph. 3 of us with Quebec plates pulled out to pass the line of cars all bearing New York plates. Then, further down the road, the lead Quebec vehicle, upon making the hard right handed turn as you leave Ausable Forks, slid into the guard rail and made a mess out of the left-hand side of his vehicle.
In Keene, I filled my tank and prepared my gear to have to walk up the hill to Scooterville. Sure enough there was a vehicle stuck part-way up the first steep hill and I spent 30 minutes trying to help out before giving up and spiked my way up. Looking out the window I saw a vehicle slowly make its way to Randomscoots cabin and then a second vehicle slid off the road and remained at a tilted angle. We managed to get the vehicle turned around (very hairy watching the big 4wd truck slide like a sled) and clear of the road so the plow would be able to come through later that night..
It was nearly midnight when I went to bed and I decided not to set an alarm, which was wise. I awoke at 7:30!
End of preamble
And after the usual fussing around I got underway at 9:00. I was the only car in the Round Pond lot and no one had signed out for 3 days. The trail was covered by a uniform blanket of beautiful fresh white snow. I call it a trail but we all know it’s really a rock and root filled deepening rut cum waterway. It took me 25 minutes to get to Round Pond. I had guesstimated 5 hours to Dix. The beautiful snow hid all of the irregularities and so when stepping my ankles would rapidly invert or evert and my weight would rapidly slide into the inter-obstacle crevice. My center of gravity was thus tossed about willy-nilly like small ship in stormy waters and my trunk muscles and arms got terrific workouts.
From the TH I made it to the Noonmark junction in 1:26 which I decided wasn’t that bad in spite of the energy expenditure. The woods were awesome. Deadly silent and muffled. The “trail” in addition to be strewn with impedimenta was either very soggy or under water. Keep on trucking! I was surprised to find someone ensconced in the LT. He had come in when there was no snow and had walked from the Hostel and had taken the Noonmark trail from the AMR parking area. We chatted a bit and off I went. The river was easy to cross so I left my Crocs in the LT, saving a nearly pound of resistance training. This was made up for by the snowshoes strapped to my pack.
The trail after the LT grew increasingly difficult and I stumbled continuously over non identified lying objects and stepped into water that luckily never soaked through my new Summit county boots . I wore Hillsounds and the snow balled up relentlessly. Usually I could scrape it off but often I had to pulverize the globs with my hiking poles. Finally, I approached the slide ( tell-tale thicket of saplings) and began punching through into too-deep water but somehow managed to keep my feet dry. I skirted that section and got onto the lower slide. Here I punched through with every little step into 4-6 inches of slush and when I made the traverse to the cairn and the woods the water had dammed up into greater depths under a half inch of ice. There were views part-way up Noonmark and Giant-RPR .
I entered the woods to be free of the wind and spent some time repairing one Hillsound (torn rubber eyelet) with tie wraps, feeding, watering and jettisoning some 5 pounds of ballast. The hour was getting late-ish but I decided to keep moving further away from my car and all it represented. The ascending wasn’t too bad but I worried about the descent so I down-climbed a particularly steep section and was re-assured. It was difficult to assess whether I was stepping onto ice or rock or roots but all in all it wasn’t bad. However, I began to detect a wavering in my enthusiasm. I already knew that the summit was out of reach as a function of the fullness of my bucket-of-life. So, in some ways I was just putting in time working hard, going nowhere slowly.
I did some mental arithmetic and said, “that’s it”. I checked my watch and saw I had left the slide 30 minutes ago. I descended gingerly in 25 catching my Hillsounds points on all the unidentified lying objects beneath the snow. Try as I might I couldn’t prevent this catchiness from occurring so I went very, very carefully. Down at the slide I re-attached the snowshoes and picked up my heavy camera and reversed the long approach walk. I decided to beat all of my splits and actually attempted to shuffle/jog down the trail, which was not intelligent, but I did it anyway. I found that by increasing my speed my loss of balance increased by an exponential function and to boot I was now getting spun around. I was glad to pause at the LT and chat with its denizen who would be attempting Dix-Hough-Dix himself.
The segment from the LT to the Noonmark junction was the easiest of all, although I discovered there are a great many gentle uphills along the way. Once I was down at Round Pond I saw many fresh beaver trails in the snow and heard several tail slaps in the darkening gloom. The surface was glass calm and there was a bit of light left. I signed out after 9 hours of getting spanked and someone (Winn reach?) had drawn a smiley face next to my name and wrote, "if that’s Neil".
When I got to my car I was very happy to have turned around when I did. I think you can conclude by my report that the conditions are not quite at their ideal level.
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