No, the mountains aren’t called the White Mountains because they’re covered in snow even in during the heatwave that is grasping the Northeast, but rather these mountains of New Hampshire are named such because of the granite faces that show periodically amongst them.
After being in a couple of cities, Jessica and I decided a few days camping out would be a great way to see part of New Hampshire. The White Mountains is a huge National Forest with lots of small campgrounds, but because of the 90+ degree weather, we opted for one of the few campsites in the park with showers! We stayed at a campground named after an early logger in the area, Jigger Johnson, but yes, during the summer months, his name reminded us way too much of the little red bugs. Our camp host was kind, gracious and helpful. He suggested a few hikes for us to try and let us borrow his trail book.
Jessica and I love taking on challenges. We’ve climbed Snowdon in Wales, Ben Nevis in Scotland, LeConte in the Smokies, and Scott at Crater Lake. Mount Washington seemed like the next great challenge. Our camp host had said it was “the” hike and that he had done it several times. But then, I began reading the trail guide. Not only did their seem to be a large possibility of getting lost, but many of the descriptions included descriptions like slippery, cliff edges, and rocky scrambles. It also seemed like an incredibly long journey by usual standards, and Jessica and I know our timing is not up to usual standards. We take frequent breaks, snap lots of photos and carefully plant our feet, so we always round up when looking at the time suggested. The ranger at the welcome station had just looked at us at said, “it’s extremely strenuous.” When I mentioned to the camp host that we didn’t think we were up for it, he said he thought that was a good choice, especially with the heat.
Sure, a little disappointed, but realizing it was probably for the best, and that we had made a smart decision, we decided to climb another, much more reasonable peak in the park: Mount Chocorua. Packed with plenty of water and bug spray, we took off up the trail. Much of the hike was pleasant, among the trees and over roots and pine straw. But as the path continued upward, the path became more and more rock. The top of the mountain, just above the tree line, was sheer rock. No, we didn’t have to truly rock climb, but there was certainly rock scramble involved. It is also harder to follow a trail that is only on rock. So, after a few wrong turns, we made it to the summit where we could see for miles in all directions. Although the sky wasn’t crystal clear, some of our other summits in our time together had been amongst only clouds with no views, so we certainly couldn’t complain about this view! Despite the high point, we were overrun with obnoxious bugs, making our plans of a relaxing lunch atop the mountain less than ideal. But a short ways down the mountain, the crowds were fewer as were the bugs! Our short legs struggle with down just as much as up, so it took us about as long to go down the mountain as it did to go up it. It was a great hike, though, and well worth the beautiful views! It also was a good reminder that we should not attempt Mount Washington (at least not on this trip!).
The next morning, we set off for a short trail around a lake that our host said would give us the best chances to see moose. At the start of the trail, we took off our shoes and waded through cool creeks before setting into buggy, marshy land. The trail was not really well maintained, so brush tickled our legs and ankles as we walked. The lake at the end of the trail was beautiful, and an absolutely perfect spot to spy moose, but alas, they were smarter than we were and hid from the midday heat. The trail was supposed to be a loop trail, but with no markings and paths through wild blueberries (yes, the kind that bear love), just wide enough for one foot at a time, we went back the same way we had traveled. I know my father, the, “never travel the same way twice” guy would have been disappointed, but safety seemed important.
Since we decided not to climb the peak of the world’s most unpredictable weather, we decided to go catch a glimpse of it. In fact, the lovely lady at the welcome center had told us we should, and enjoy a margarita in the process. Always ones to follow instructions, we went to the beautiful Omni Resort at Mount Washington. It is stark white with a bright red roof and large covered verandas looking straight at Mount Washington. Families played frisbee and bocci ball while we sat in comfy wicker chairs and enjoyed a margarita with a view. All the perks of a beautiful hotel with the price of a tent!
Driving through the National Forest was a treat in itself. The vistas were beautiful with green as far as the eye could see covering peak after peak and in between were shallow rivers. The rivers were full of round rocks of all sizes and few of the rivers looked deep, but on these blistering hot days, the river was the center of activity. Groups of people were fly fishing and in the few deeper spots, crowds gathered to cool off. My favorite though was a man who appeared to have a home on the river’s edge. Before noon on a Tuesday, he was in the very middle of the river, in his chair in ankle deep water with a beach umbrella blocking the sun and a refreshing drink in his hand. Not a bad way to beat the heat!
We spent a fair amount of time at our campsite in the White Mountains, resting up after several busy days of city life. We napped some, colored in coloring books, read, played cards, and were mesmerized by beautiful fires. Jessica coined it correctly when she said, “it smells like Christmas,” as we were surrounded by thick spruce trees. One night, we moved our chairs out into the deserted dead end circle of our campsite for a better view of the stars. We saw a handful of satellites and even four shooting stars! So magical! I can’t see a shooting star, though, without thinking of the stars from A Wrinkle in Time who were giving up their lives to fight evil in the world. Now when I see a shooting star, it’s a mix of hope, awe and sadness, thinking of the life those fictional characters were sacrificing.
New Hampshire has a moose on its license plate. I was really counting on seeing one of the majestic creatures, but I’m afraid that we saw incredibly little wildlife. There were a couple of frogs, some birds here and there, and the cutest squirrels, that I believe were full grown, but compared much closer to a chipmunk. That was it. Well, aside from the swarming creatures that plagued us; they didn’t mind the heat! The White Mountains were beautiful, and I’d love to see them at a different time of year, perhaps when the heat doesn’t suppress the wildlife nor the visitors!
No comments:
Post a Comment