Photos: http://ift.tt/2lyHddV
The most exciting thing to happen occurred about ten minutes after departing the Ausable Club's parking area. I caught up to a couple ahead of me and then slipped and fell on the icy road. It was the highly animated kind of fall performed by skaters. Arms and legs swooped up into the air and I stuck the landing with my butt. Oww! Additional injury was cause by the back of my neck smacking the tips of the snowshoes strapped to my pack. Double-oww!
I chuckled and exclaimed "That's never happened before!" I stood up and assessed the damage; sore butt and neck. I thought the neck injury would cause problems throughout the hike. However, it was the contused gluteus maximus that complained every time I stooped under a fallen tree. I assured the couple I was not seriously injured and continued to the trail register.
One other person had signed in ahead of me (45 minutes earlier) for Colvin-Blake-Nippletop-Dial. Unless the individual was a trail runner, it was unlikely we would cross paths; I would have the two peaks to myself today. Nice!
The Lake Road was hard-packed but not overly slick. I continued in bare-boots all the way to the Nippletop-Colvin junction. Along the way, I saw plenty of evidence of the recent thaw. The rivers and brooks were running high and producing white noise that would serve as the day's soundtrack.
Gill Brook is running well after the Big Thaw.
The Lake Road, Gill Brook Cutoff, and Gill Brook Trail were "tenderized" by the spikes and crampons of hikers heading to Colvin. The moment I turned left towards Elk Pass, the trail became pristine. In fact, it had an unexpected three inches of fresh snow. I paused to don my snowshoes.
The trail was lined with post-holes, many created by snowshoes worn during the recent "Big Thaw". In addition, the snow's firmness was uneven. Most of the time it was "snowcrete" but a few times, a few inches to either side of the hardened path, it gave way like meringue, despite wearing snowshoes.
I'm very leery of crossing frozen expanses of water, especially after a few days of unseasonably warm temperatures. On the other hand, I do enjoy "cutting the corner" in Elk Pass. I gingerly stepped out onto the snowy bank of the northern pond, proceeded to the exposed ice and discovered it was very solid. A few quick paces later and I was on the opposite bank, looking for the trail.
Despite the recent thaw, the steep trail was not transformed into a frozen waterfall. It retained a smooth cover of snowcrete and snowshoes were up to the task. I plodded upward, pausing frequently. This was "one of those days" where I wasn't firing on all cylinders. My personal best for this route is under 5 hours and there's was no way I was going to come close to it today.
After far more huffing and puffing than I care to admit, I arrived at the junction on Nippletop's ridge. I was greeted by the trail sign and copious, untracked snowcrete. I paused for a snack and to soak up whatever scenery the clouds allowed me to see.
Pristine trail.
The route to Nippletop wasn't self-evident. I didn't bother locating trail markers and simply followed the most obvious path south to the summit. It was my ninth visit so I had a "feel" for it. I think I got off track once or twice. The summit remains blanketed by a deep snowpack. The boost in height provided a slightly better view of Elk Lake.
Nippletop and snow clouds.
Temperature-wise, it wasn't a terribly cold day, but the windchill made it surprisingly nippy. After seeing all that there was to see, I retraced my steps to the junction and pressed on to Dial.
Misty view of Elk Lake.
Besides the sound of distant running water in the valley, I was accompanied by the din of an ice-crusher. My snowshoes made an unholy racket on the snow-frosted snowcrete. I had been listening to podcasts all morning but much of what I heard was drowned out. I considered switching to Trail Crampons but felt the snowshoes helped bridge the trail's uneveness (a result of the recent thaw and re-freeze).
The trail to Dial was easy to follow. There were several downed trees along the way and ducking under them aggravated my sore glute. I clambered up onto Dial's ledge and saw ... not much.
I dropped into the col and toyed with the idea of bushwhacking down Gravestone Brook. However, earlier experiments demonstrated the snowcrete's firmness was inconsistent. I didn't relish the idea of breaking through the crust for the next mile and a half so I shelved the idea for another day.
Snowshoe postholes created during the Big Thaw.
Shortly after Bear Den I decided to do something about the dead elephant I was dragging. Perhaps the feeling of "iron poor blood" was due to a lack of calories so I stopped to eat my PB&J. I also replaced my ice-crushers with quiet, nimble Trail Crampons. The first few yards of near-silence made me regret not using them earlier in the hike. The only trade-off was having to pay closer attention to foot-placement on the pock-marked trail.
In the col formed by Bear Den and Noonmark's shoulder, portions of the trail had lost all snow-cover and were an open wound of running water. The conditions repeated themselves beyond Noonmark's shoulder. However, it was the final "water hazard" before the long, steep, and welcome, descent to the Lake Road.
While signing out at the register (travel time: 7h 13m) I greeted the third and final hiker of the day. I peeled off my Trail Crampons and confidently walked back along the now ice-free road. Considering the High Peaks' popularity, even in winter, it had been a rare treat to have Nippletop and Dial all to myself.
The most exciting thing to happen occurred about ten minutes after departing the Ausable Club's parking area. I caught up to a couple ahead of me and then slipped and fell on the icy road. It was the highly animated kind of fall performed by skaters. Arms and legs swooped up into the air and I stuck the landing with my butt. Oww! Additional injury was cause by the back of my neck smacking the tips of the snowshoes strapped to my pack. Double-oww!
I chuckled and exclaimed "That's never happened before!" I stood up and assessed the damage; sore butt and neck. I thought the neck injury would cause problems throughout the hike. However, it was the contused gluteus maximus that complained every time I stooped under a fallen tree. I assured the couple I was not seriously injured and continued to the trail register.
One other person had signed in ahead of me (45 minutes earlier) for Colvin-Blake-Nippletop-Dial. Unless the individual was a trail runner, it was unlikely we would cross paths; I would have the two peaks to myself today. Nice!
The Lake Road was hard-packed but not overly slick. I continued in bare-boots all the way to the Nippletop-Colvin junction. Along the way, I saw plenty of evidence of the recent thaw. The rivers and brooks were running high and producing white noise that would serve as the day's soundtrack.
Gill Brook is running well after the Big Thaw.
The Lake Road, Gill Brook Cutoff, and Gill Brook Trail were "tenderized" by the spikes and crampons of hikers heading to Colvin. The moment I turned left towards Elk Pass, the trail became pristine. In fact, it had an unexpected three inches of fresh snow. I paused to don my snowshoes.
The trail was lined with post-holes, many created by snowshoes worn during the recent "Big Thaw". In addition, the snow's firmness was uneven. Most of the time it was "snowcrete" but a few times, a few inches to either side of the hardened path, it gave way like meringue, despite wearing snowshoes.
I'm very leery of crossing frozen expanses of water, especially after a few days of unseasonably warm temperatures. On the other hand, I do enjoy "cutting the corner" in Elk Pass. I gingerly stepped out onto the snowy bank of the northern pond, proceeded to the exposed ice and discovered it was very solid. A few quick paces later and I was on the opposite bank, looking for the trail.
Despite the recent thaw, the steep trail was not transformed into a frozen waterfall. It retained a smooth cover of snowcrete and snowshoes were up to the task. I plodded upward, pausing frequently. This was "one of those days" where I wasn't firing on all cylinders. My personal best for this route is under 5 hours and there's was no way I was going to come close to it today.
After far more huffing and puffing than I care to admit, I arrived at the junction on Nippletop's ridge. I was greeted by the trail sign and copious, untracked snowcrete. I paused for a snack and to soak up whatever scenery the clouds allowed me to see.
Pristine trail.
The route to Nippletop wasn't self-evident. I didn't bother locating trail markers and simply followed the most obvious path south to the summit. It was my ninth visit so I had a "feel" for it. I think I got off track once or twice. The summit remains blanketed by a deep snowpack. The boost in height provided a slightly better view of Elk Lake.
Nippletop and snow clouds.
Temperature-wise, it wasn't a terribly cold day, but the windchill made it surprisingly nippy. After seeing all that there was to see, I retraced my steps to the junction and pressed on to Dial.
Misty view of Elk Lake.
Besides the sound of distant running water in the valley, I was accompanied by the din of an ice-crusher. My snowshoes made an unholy racket on the snow-frosted snowcrete. I had been listening to podcasts all morning but much of what I heard was drowned out. I considered switching to Trail Crampons but felt the snowshoes helped bridge the trail's uneveness (a result of the recent thaw and re-freeze).
The trail to Dial was easy to follow. There were several downed trees along the way and ducking under them aggravated my sore glute. I clambered up onto Dial's ledge and saw ... not much.
I dropped into the col and toyed with the idea of bushwhacking down Gravestone Brook. However, earlier experiments demonstrated the snowcrete's firmness was inconsistent. I didn't relish the idea of breaking through the crust for the next mile and a half so I shelved the idea for another day.
Snowshoe postholes created during the Big Thaw.
Shortly after Bear Den I decided to do something about the dead elephant I was dragging. Perhaps the feeling of "iron poor blood" was due to a lack of calories so I stopped to eat my PB&J. I also replaced my ice-crushers with quiet, nimble Trail Crampons. The first few yards of near-silence made me regret not using them earlier in the hike. The only trade-off was having to pay closer attention to foot-placement on the pock-marked trail.
In the col formed by Bear Den and Noonmark's shoulder, portions of the trail had lost all snow-cover and were an open wound of running water. The conditions repeated themselves beyond Noonmark's shoulder. However, it was the final "water hazard" before the long, steep, and welcome, descent to the Lake Road.
While signing out at the register (travel time: 7h 13m) I greeted the third and final hiker of the day. I peeled off my Trail Crampons and confidently walked back along the now ice-free road. Considering the High Peaks' popularity, even in winter, it had been a rare treat to have Nippletop and Dial all to myself.
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