Jon, Jet, and Jim followed Sherry and I as we drove in bad conditions--mostly rain, but one bad section of snow--from Hanover to North Woodstock, where we met up with Rob and Noelle. Hanna and Eric decided to wait until morning to come, because they would have gotten a late start and conditions were so poor. From North Woodstock, we found our way up the road a bit, parked, and found the trail, in the dark and wet, to Ritchie Smith Cabin. The walk through the new, wet snow was longer than I thought, and we all got well-acquainted with it as we proceeded to make several trips back and forth from the cars to carry our stuff in. Sherry started cooking right away and I eventually helped. We made a teriyaki stir fry that turned out to be delicious. Someone also got a fire going while the cooking was being done, and everyone generally started to settle in. It seemed to be a good cabin, with a nice big loft and a pretty good amount of space downstairs, arranged with the woodstove right in the middle so we could sit around it to warm up. One peculiarity was the front porch, which ran the length of the cabin, but was only two planks (about 50cm) wide. However, it was a perfect place to store cold beverages and refrigerated foods, so we did.

After the six of us ate, we cleaned up and relaxed, enjoying the conversation around the woodstove. Since we'd gotten in somewhat late in the evening and were a bit harried from the drive, we didn't do too much besides relax, unpacking a little more and continuing to settle in. We eventually headed to sleep around 01:00. I got up once during the night to go outside to the bathroom, and it bears mentioning because of a challenge that was posed in the process. I didn't want to wake anyone up, so I decided not to turn on my headlamp, at least until I got outside. I was sleeping up in the loft, and so I had a ladder to climb down, which was challenging enough in the dark. But even before doing that, I had to cross a narrow catwalk between the two separate parts of the loft. It had handrails, but still it was pretty scary without light. I did make it, though that was enough adventure for me during the middle of the night.

The next morning I slept in till about 09:00, though some folks had gotten up a little earlier. We all had a nice big breakfast cooked by Jim and Jon, and generally spent the morning pretty lazily. After hanging out a while and cleaning up from breakfast, Hanna and Eric showed up and we helped them carry all of their stuff in. We then decided to go hiking up to Lonesome Lake, and as we headed out around 12:30, Jim hit the road for Hanover--he was flying out to Houston the next day, and unfortunately couldn't stay any longer.

So the rest of us drove up the highway in two separate cars and parked at the Lafayette Campground. We had a very enjoyable hike in the wet snow up to the lake. It was some work, but the rain mostly held off and we stayed fairly dry, except for perhaps some of our feet. We passed one group of four on the way up, and then met a large group of young boys, with two older trip leaders, inside the "hut". We ate and relaxed, and eventually the group of boys left. We chatted with the friendly caretaker, and she took our photo before we headed back down in the moist, foggy air. We walked around the other side of the lake, then had lots of fun quickly sliding our way down the trail speedily back to the cars. We got out around 15:30 or so, passing just one uphill hiker on the way.

We headed back to the cabin and hung out a little while before eating chili for dinner, which Hanna had made the day before to simplify things. It was really delicious! Afterward we started right in with games, playing the card game Mao and enjoying plenty of drink. Everyone played and seemed to have a very good time. It felt like we'd been playing for hours, before someone checked the time and we realized it wasn't even 19:00 yet!! As the evening continued on, now and again we'd check the time, continuing to be shocked at how early it seemed to stay. It seemed to be the opposite of the typical reality. One by one people started dropping out of the game, but it went on for quite a long time, and we got quite loud and rowdy, having great fun. We eventually quit Mao and switched to a game Eric taught us for a while, but before long we were all pretty wiped out, and finished the last game around 00:30 before heading to bed. I felt a bit dizzy, but fell asleep pretty quickly.

The next morning we all slept in a bit, but not too late. I woke up feeling better than I expected to. Rob and Noelle soon got started on cooking up quite a good breakfast, which we all enjoyed together. Not long after eating, we decided that there wasn't much more for us to do, so we started to clean up the cabin. It was a little disappointing that there weren't any trails or anything leading right from the cabin, which meant that any kind of outing, besides a short walk or fishing, required a drive. That, combined with the weather (damp and the ground somewhat slushy), perhaps kept us from doing a little bit more on the trip. However, yesterday's outing was a resounding success, and we'd had plenty of fun at the cabin, too.

So after spending a considerable amount of time packing up, washing dishes, and wandering around the cabin trying to find the non-existent ash receptacle, we were finally just about ready to head home. Jon sat outside on a stump and took to the task of writing a suitably humorous entry in the log book describing our visit. Once he was finished, we gather for a final photo together, then made one final hike through the woods one the access trail and hit the road.

John, Sherry and I took John's car to Smuggler's Notch and parked at the south end where the road was closed, near the Mansfield ski area entrance. We got packed up and hiked up the road to the Long Trail, and then followed it south toward Mount Mansfield. It was a long, slow hike up on the icy trails. The lack of snow and up-and-down temperatures of late resulted in the slippery conditions. We had lunch at Taft Lodge, and saw several other folks on the way up. (There had been a busload of hikers from Canada leaving as we were getting ready in the parking lot.) While snacking on some benches near the lodge, looking at the easterly view across the notch, two hikers came over to eat and chat, one of whom seemed to be a chain smoker. The smoke was annoying, but we soon continued on. After surmounting some very steep, and often still icy, sections (crampons were on), we actually had the summit to ourselves, at maybe around 14:30 or so. We took in the views but didn't stay long, continuing along the ridge, past the Visitor Center and the Nose and then to the Forehead Bypass Trail as the sun was setting. It got dark and the icy downhill of the bypass was very difficult to navigate. We finally reached the Long Trail, then soon after turned down the Wallace Cutoff to Butler Lodge, arriving at about 17:45. The last hour or so before the lodge had been tough on us, due to the continued iciness of the trails. Crampons weren't very helpful because the ice was spotty and the exposed rock was hard to navigate with crampons, so we left them off. Sherry had a particularly tough time, being new to not only backpacking but also hiking in such conditions, and in the dark no less. But she persevered valiantly and though we each fell a time or two, we all arrived unharmed, if somewhat tired. To our surprise, we found several others at the lodge--11 people plus a dog. There was a large group of UVM students on an outing club trip, and a smaller group of French Canadians. We cooked and ate dinner and got our beds ready, going to sleep at maybe 08:30ish, I'm not really sure.

We all slept so-so--it wasn't terribly cold for this time of year, though having so many people in the lodge probably helped. It had rained during the night, putting a glaze of ice on most everything outside, though luckily it melted fairly quickly. We chatted a little with the other folks, had breakfast, and headed out ourselves around 10:00. We moved carefully on the slippery trail, heading south on the LT again. As we continually descended, the trail got less and less icy, and we were able to move more quickly. It was still quite foggy and damp, though, and the trail very wet and muddy. We got to Taylor Lodge shortly after noon and had lunch. Two day hikers stopped in briefly while we were there. We watched the fog and clouds roll across the valley between us and the next mountain, exposing it and then quickly cloaking it again. We headed from the lodge down the Lake Mansfield Trail, cruising steadily on down all the way to the foot of the mountains. We passed crossed the grounds of the Lake Mansfield Trout Club and the lake itself, saw a handful of other hikers in the damp weather, which turned to heavier rain at times. Before long we reached the club's driveway and followed it out to the entrance gate where we'd left Sherry's car. There we met a friendly local dog who kept us company while we packed up the car and completed a trip which, though it had it's better moments, was much icier, damper and more challenging than we'd expected.

Rob, Sherry, and I started hiking up the Three Ponds Trail near Stinson Lake at about 09:15. We followed the leaf-covered old road past the junction with the Kineo Trail and to the Carr Mountain Trail, which we turned left onto and started heading toward the mountain. First we dropped down briefly to cross a stream; the rocks were slippery but we had no trouble. Then we ascended continually the rest of the way--about 2.5 miles to the summit. It was generally gradual, with a few steeper sections, but nothing terribly difficult. The trail was fairly wet, though, and we did have to avoid some mud and water, and use caution on slippery roots, rocks, and leaves. We stopped for a few breaks and to dress down on this warmer than expected day. At one stop, I found a beech nut and ate it after peeling off its moisture-softened three-sided shell. I looked around for more so the others could try them, but had no luck. A little further along we also spotted a fairly fresh bear track in the mud, which was exciting to see. At one point the trail leveled off and We kept thinking we were near the summit--which I repeatly asserted, jokingly--until we saw much higher ground looming ahead.

It didn't take long to ascend that last portion, though, and we soon passed a junction with the spur trail to find the summit itself just beyond. The wind was whipping pretty good at the summit, and we quickly cooled down as we put on more clothing and looked around at the open rock and the site of an old fire tower, of which only large cement blocks remained. We ascended the rocky knobs at the summit which extended almost above the treetops, and took in some fairly good views to the east and north. But the wind was cold and we quickly returned to shelter below the rocks to eat our lunches. After we finished up our sandwiches, we got back on the trail and headed down, hoping to warm ourselves up a little.

It didn't take long. Now out of the wind and off the summit, we warmed up quickly. We slipped and slid our way down on the moist trail, but only I actually ever hit the deck, and even then not very hard. We had good conversation and continued trudging, reaching the deciduous forest before we knew it. The walk down the leaf-covered trail seemed much longer than on the way up, though, and just kept going and going. Eventually we reached the stream again, crossed it, and made our way back out to the car. We noticed some mountain bike tracks on the final stretch which hadn't been there before, but that was as close as we came to seeing anyone else on the trails on this trip. We clocked in at the parking lot at about 13:45, then headed back to Hanover.

Sherry and I found the part Wolfeboro Road at the point at which it becomes a class VI road on the east side of Moose Mtn., and started hiking up it at around 12:30. There were tire tracks as if someone had driven up it this past summer, but clearly very few vehicles did, and it was obvious why. It was in pretty bad shape. Just after beginning the hike, we passed a truck in the woods that was so old it was practically rusted out of existence. The trail/road continued along a stream, steadily uphill. We were a little disappointed at the lack of colorful leaves, especially since while driving around beforehand we had seen lots of them. Eventually we came up with the hypothesis that the leaves look better from a ways away, but once you get close they don't look so good. So we looked up through the woods to the nearby hillsides, where the colors looked more brilliant from our location.

We continued on up, along a babbling brook for a time, and through a few wet sections of the old road, but for the most part it was pretty easy going. Eventually we passed the remains of the old Moose Mountain Shelter, a lean-to that was 0.5 miles from the AT, which we were headed for. It was now just a heap of lumber and other scraps. We pondered it briefly, then continued. Perhaps 30 meters ahead a moderately large tree lay across the road, and that seemed to be where all old tire tracks ended. We climbed through it and continued up, soon reaching the junction with the AT between the north and south summits of the mountain.

We turned left and headed for the south summit. It wasn't long before we neared the summit, and as we did we encountered a gentleman who was wondering how far it was to the shelter (a new shelter had been built 0.5 miles in the other direction from the AT). We gave him our estimate, and then he turned and headed back to the summit along with us, returning to his family. We arrived there and the skies were still grey, but there were views and we took them in as we sat down to have our sandwiches for lunch. We chatted with the friendly family a little bit--they had two young daughters--and we met their dog. They headed down from the summit before long, and we looked around a bit after that, took some pictures, and then headed back ourselves.

We returned the same way we'd come, and moved along pretty quickly. We were paying some attention to the old stone walls in the woods along the way, and as we neared the end, we noticed some more unusual stone formations, near the brook. One appeared to be some kind of foundation, though it wasn't quite rectangular. Just below that was a zig-zag portion of perhaps an old wall, taller and straighter than most of the stone walls one sees in the woods. And finally, one stone wall went straight across the brook itself, resulting in a bit of a waterfall. We studied it a bit, wondering just what it might have been (it didn't appear to be part of an old road), and then continued on down to the end. We reached the car around 15:00 and headed home.

Jon B., Jet, Sherry, and I headed up the Falling Waters starting at about 11:00. We made our way steadily along, encountering several other hikers along the way. We passed several beautiful waterfalls and stopped for photos from time to time. One group of folks was stopped at a waterfall and were kind of in the way, but they eventually moved aside after we hiked behind them for a bit. We continued up, up, up, and I claimed that we had several miles to go to the first summit, which was Little Haystack. They didn't question me, and so I let it go, hoping it would be a bit of a relief to them when we reached it long before expected. We did make pretty good time to the summit, and as we crossed the tree line we found plenty of people at the summit, but excellent views as well on this clear, sunny day.

After resting on that first, smaller summit a while, we headed out along the ridgeline toward Lincoln. You could almost see exactly where we were headed on the rocky, exposed ridgeline. You could also see other folks up ahead, heading in both directions. We constantly enjoyed the views in all directions--of Franconia Notch, Kinsman, and Cannon to the west, and Owl's Head, Bondcliff, Bond, and the Twin mountains to the east. There was a reasonable amount of fall color in the trees lower down on the mountains, but it didn't seem nearly as breathtaking as I'd expected it to be this time of year. Nonetheless, it was well worth seeing. We passed over a high point on the ridgeline, descended a little ways, then ascended again to the summit of Lincoln. We spent some time there resting, snacking, and photographing, and I picked some food remains that had unfortunately been tucked into the cairn at the summit by some less appreciative hikers. Plenty of others were around on Lincoln as well, including a number of folks we'd seen at the last summit and were following, or being followed by, as we went. We watched some gliders being towed along by planes, and then released, and then as they glided silently around over the notch.

From Lincoln we continued north along the rocky ridge, continuing to take in the views and the fresh, crisp air. We scrambled down one very short steep section, but otherwise had an easy time of it. We passed many more hikers who were presumably doing the same loop in the opposite direction. We reached Lafayette in good time, and there we took a lengthier break and ate our lunches. Sherry and I sat on the edge of an old stone foundation, perhaps for a ranger hut from years ago. We looked down to the west at the Greeleaf Hut, and along the ridge to the north as it eventually disappeared, dropping down at its northern end.

From Lafayette we headed west on a shoulder toward the Greenleaf "Hut". It was a steep descent, and was somewhat jarring to our feet and knees, but we all held up well. We reached the "hut", which is more like a small hotel, and stopped to use the bathroom and to check it out. It's just as nice as all of the others in the Whites, and more and more I wonder if such a lodge is really desirable in these mountains, considering the number of hikers I'd seen who didn't seem to respect what they had out here. Anyway, from the lodge we headed down the Bridle Path, which afforded excellent views back up at the ridgeline and the yellow foliage that brightened its flanks. We plodded along, down, down, down, finally rejoining the Falling Waters Trail which we took up, and following it a short distance back to the parking lot. We completed our trek at about 17:00 or 17:30, exhausted but very happy with all we'd seen and done.

Eric and Hanna followed Sherry and I in their car as we left from Hanover and headed north on I-91 at maybe 16:45. My car began acting strangly, though, losing power slowly until it finally conked out completely, just after getting off of exit 1 after we'd merged onto I-93 south. I left my car on the side of the road and we transferred almost everything to Hanna and Eric's car, then crammed in as best we could. Sherry and I sat in the back with items stacked behind our heads, between us, and in our laps. We stopped at the Pettyco Junction Store just down the road, and the friendly store worked helped me make arrangements to have my car towed, and off we went again. The rest of the trip went smoothly, despite the squeeze, and we finally reached the entrance to the Grant in the dark at around 21:00. It was a somewhat long, slow drive from there all the way to Hellgate at the north end, and we finally arrived there at about 21:30. We got out our flashlights and headlamps and quickly unpacked the car. Someone was coming across the footbridge just as we were arriving--he was staying at the Hellgate Hilton, across a meadow from our cabin (Pete Blodgett Cabin), and gave us the big moving cart that was there to make transporting gear a little easier.

We filled up that cart and the other one, and carefully moved through the dark, across the swaying bridge, and through the field to our cabin. I opened it up and we got some of the gas lights going, then returned for the rest of our gear from the car. Eric and I noticed on our way across the field that the moon was nearly full and very bright and beautiful over one of the nearby mountains. Once back at the cabin again, Sherry and I got right to work on dinner. Jon and Kristen were originally scheduled to cook tonight, though we went ahead since they hadn't shown up yet. (We were somewhat concerned about them, but figured perhaps they just got delayed.) We made burritos, and Hanna came in to help too. I joined Eric and relaxed a bit, did some unpacking, and checked out the cabin. It actually had two buildings, connected by a long porch in front. One building was a bunk house, and the main building had a room for the kitchen in the back, and a large living area in front. As dinner was finally just about ready at 23:00, I peered out the window and saw lights crossing the field. Jon and Kristen had arrived, and we helped them get their belongings inside, then we all sat down to eat.

I introduced Jon to Hanna and Eric, and Jon introduced Kristen to all of us. We then proceeded to enjoy the delicious meal as we chatted, sharing stories of the various events which had delayed each of our groups on our drives to the Grant. By the time the meal had ended, we were all pretty exhausted, and started heading to the bunk house to get ready for bed. Sherry and I cleaned up from dinner as much as we could, with some help from the others, and lights were out at about 00:45.

We all got up around 09:00, and Jon and Kristen made a yummy breakfast of eggs and potatoes. Kristen also broke out some homemade banana bread she'd brought, which was a very big hit. After the excellent meal and a little cleanup, we hung around the cabin a while just being lazy. Sherry and I went for a short walk over to the cars and down the road a bit, to take a look across back across the river at the Hellgate Hilton cabin. Along the way we encountered a chipmunk high in an evergreen who was frantically tossing pine cones down to the ground, nearly pelting us as we passed by. Upon returning to the cabin, we found that Eric had unpacked a miniature soccer ball he'd brought, and we tossed that around for a while in the nicely groomed (to my surprise) lawn in front of the cabin. We also threw around a frisbee, allowing each of us to exhibit ineptitude in our own way. We also had some fun running around with Jet. Finally we all got ourselves away from the cabin and headed out for a hike. After studying the Grant maps in the cabin, we walked across the suspension bridge over the Dead Diamond River, and westward down the road. We passed the other Hellgate cabin, then took a path down to Hellgate Gorge itself. Along the way we encountered three friendly mountain bikers who were also headed to check out the gorge. We spent a short while at the bend in the river just before the Gorge. The water didn't seem to be raging as violently as the last time I'd seen it a few years back. The rock formations along the edges of the gorge were elaborate and intriguing, and each of us studied them at one point. Kristen, who'd brought a nice camera along (I was jealous of the great close-ups it could take), snapped some excellent photos of the formations.

From the Gorge we returned to the road and continued along it, until it ended just before it would have joined another road. We climbed down into a ditch and back up an embankment on the other side just to reach the other road. The separation was to prevent trespassers; a locked gate connected the two roads just a short distance to the east. We turned left, continuing eastward on the new road. Before long we reached the Finnson's Cliff Trail, which started from the road and headed northward. We followed it as it rose steeply up along the infrequently trodden soil. The trail is short, and it didn't take long to reach the cliff itself, at which point we enjoyed the views back down to the valley. We peered over the precipitous edge of the cliff, and surveyed the land within our range of vision, picking out our cabin, the Hellgate Hilton, and the bend in the Dead Diamond River just upstream from the gorge where we'd just been. We hung out a while, and posed for a group photo or two.

From there we continued along the trail, which had been extended in recent years to loop back around to the read. (I don't recall it looping like this on my previous visit.) The trail hacked its way through some gnarly terrain along the cliff's edge, then gradually became much flatter and more broken in as it headed deeper into the woods. We enjoyed the stroll, and I took some flak from the others for pointing out several different kinds of scat along the way. Jon in particular enjoyed picking on me for having a little scat quick reference guide. We saw, among other types, lots of bear scat. I was half expecting we might see one when the trail arrived at some open fields with lots of raspberry bushes, which I'm sure the bears must love. The trail finally arrived back at a road, though not the same one we'd been on before. The map was a little unclear, but we made our best guess as to where we were and headed off.

Jon and Kristen walked ahead, and the rest of us followed behind. An abundance of grasshoppers were jumping in the road, always trying to get out of our way as we moved along. I also spotted other interesting insects in the road, including one very fuzzy, rusty orange caterpillar. Eventually we found our way back to a gate that was just around the corner from our vehicles. Along the last stretch from there to the cars, there seemed to be a greater variety of grasshoppers: some dark, some the standard green some a very bright green, some small and some large. Then we noticed a three-legged variety, and then a couple more of the same. Surely it must've been a coincidence, but it seemed awfully odd to see a few of them all in just a few minutes. We noticed them because they seemed to be jumping in circles!

After returning to the cabin, we hung around for a couple of hours again, reading and playing on the lawn. With just enough daylight left, we headed for a hike to Hellgate Pond. The trail leaves from the meadow just next to our cabin, and we followed it for perhaps 10 or 15 minutes, turning at a junction where another trail splits off to head to Lamb Valley Pond. Shortly after that point, the trail started becoming more and more moist, and soon it was downright muddy. But it got worse. Just ahead the trail--and the surrounding forest--was literally flooded. Jon and I, feeling adventuresome, continued anyway, balancing on logs, grabbing tree trunks, and making great leaps across the waterway. One side of the trail afforded some higher ground, so we bushwhacked up that a bit and managed to parallel the trail around the flooded section. Since the others weren't coming, we started running along so as not to make them wait too long. We soon reached the pond itself, and saw the culprit who was presumably responsible for the deluge swimming across the glassy surface: a beaver. We took a few photos, then charged back to the others, making our way across the wetness in the reverse direction.

Jon, Sherry and I lagged behind the others on our way back, and soon it was just Sherry and I. We stopped briefly to look for moose in a swampy area alongside the trail, then continued through a grassy meadow, beyond which there was a high point (perhaps Finnson's Cliff) which was still illuminated by the sun, which was now very low in the sky. We stopped briefly to take it in, then continued back to the cabin, which still had son shining on it as well, though not for much longer. As we arrived, Hanna and Eric were started to get things together for dinner--it was their turn to cook. They made a sausage and vegetable soup while the rest of us relaxed. Our meal commenced at about 20:00, and the soup was delicious.

Following the tasty meal we all played a couple of games of Greed at the big table, and then a game of Clue, which Sherry won in short order. We were all pretty impressed at how short the game turned out to be, and how quickly she managed to determine the solution. At that point, Kristen headed to bed, as she had to leave very early the next morning for a wedding back in Boston. Jon didn't stay up much longer either. The rest of us played some Uno (using regular cards), and Sherry and I got whooped, but it was great fun. After the game the four of us spent a while going through all of our food, of which there was a ton, and selecting several things to give to Kristen to take back; since Jon was returning with us, there would be very little room for the food and all of our gear in Eric and Hanna's car. Then we headed to bed as well, around maybe 23:00 or so.

I got up, not without difficulty, around 05:30 when I heard Jon and Kristen getting up. I soon found out they had overslept and she was running late, so I helped them hurriedly bring everything out to her car and pack it in. Sherry got up and joined us too. We said goodbye and went back to bed, but just as I was settling back into unconsciousness, I snapped awake, remembering that I'd wanted to ask Jon if he'd remembered to give Kristen a gate key to get out. To my surprise, I heard him rushing around on the porch, and got up and caught him just as he was about to ride off on his bike to deliver her a gate key, which had in fact slipped his mind after all. I had him wait, and woke up Eric, who was kind enough to drive his car with Jon to give her the key. It certainly would've been a pretty unpleasant bike ride at that hour.

They returned before long, having caught up with her and made the delivery successfully. We all returned to bed, and slept in until around 10:00. I got up and read a bit of Catcher in the Rye, which I'd started yesterday. It was seeming incredibly familiar, though I'd thought I hadn't read it before. Sherry and I then made oatmeal with lots of condiments for breakfast and we all ate out on the picnic table in the pleasant late summer air and under sunny skies. By the time we were done and got everything put away, it was already noon. We let breakfast digest a bit, reading and just hanging around, then finally headed out for a hike at about 13:00. We drove a few miles on the dirt roads to the northwest, parking by a brook crossing by what we thought was Little Garfield Falls. We'd hoped to hike to Garfield Falls, which was three miles up the river according to the Dartmouth Outing Guide. Unfortunately, all of the Grant maps I've ever had access too were pretty poor, lacking considerable detail, so I tried to make everyone well aware that reaching our goal might not be so easy. In fact, we weren't even really sure that it was little Garfield Falls that we were starting from, making it a challenge right from the get-go.

We head up the road undaunted, though I was concerned that it could be a pretty boring hike, and really didn't want to waste everyone's time. The road continued parallel to the brook for a bit, and soon we ran into a couple, perhaps in their 40s, walking our way. We asked the gentleman about Garfield Falls and he gave us some information, but he didn't really know about hiking to it from there. We continued on the road, which parted from the brook and then soon reached another one. We crossed it and continued, deciding not to worry about the falls and just go exploring. We took an old logging road that branched off to the right and then soon turned into a narrow trail. We followed it for quite a ways, and it was mostly clear for walking, which was nice. We saw lots of indication of moose in the area--the prospect of seeing one is always exciting. Soon we took a right at a split and started downhill, back toward the brook we'd crossed on the road (not the original one that the road followed, or so we thought). We reached it without much trouble--there was a little bit of mud and thick brush--and enjoyed a nice snack break on some rocks in the water. At that point we began to debate our next moves.

Jon and I took a look across the brook, which was a bit of a challenge to cross without getting wet, and found that it was somewhat open, so we decided to all cross. It took a while before everyone made it, and a considerable amount of wandering up and down the banks looking for a good way across took place. Once across--and not without a couple of wet feet--we started bushwhacking downstream, back toward the last bridge, roughly following the stream itself. It was somewhat trying, as the land turned out to be very swampy. We encountered several interesting things--snakes, old clothes discarded in a small clearing, a butterfly, plenty of mud, and lots of moose tracks. We forded the stream again at one point. We were struggling along through marshy terrain and ended up hugging right along the river bank, which itself was a mini bluff of perhaps a meter in height. It was a struggle, and when the forest appeared to open up a bit on the other side of the stream--combined with the appearance of even swampier terrain straight ahead, we decided to cross. There were no rocks to hop on, so one by one we took off our shoes and carefully waded through the very cold water, our feet struggling for traction on the slippery rocks of the streambed. Despite the shallow waters (30-40cm) and narrowness of the stream at this point (a few meters), there was some concern that the moderately strong current and slippery rocks could result in someone taking a dunk. However, we were very cautious and all made it successfully across.

This kind of excursion is something that, though exciting for a while, usually turns into a test of one's resolve. I was sincerely concerned that the group would become miserable and regret not having returned the way we'd come. However, spirits remained remarkable high, and the excitement of the challenging bushwhack seemed only to fuel it. We crossed a soggy field with very high grass and shrubs, pushed through some dryer terrain with dense pine trees, and then suddenly popped out onto the road, just above the bridge that was our target destination. We were a bit scraped up, but had enjoyed the little adventure.

We then returned, via the road the same way we'd come, to the car. We still had some time on our hands, so we took a quick drive up a side road, but soon had to turn back as it became impassable. We returned to the cabin around 16:30. Jon and I got to making dinner before long, and we had an earlier meal than the psat two nights. It was quite good--chicken and rice with corn on the cob and sauteed veggies. Jon then read peacefully nearby, injecting occasional comments as the rest of us drank, joked, and played a lot of Uno. It was a blast, and Sherry and I managed to compete a little better with Hanna and Eric. We played for a long time, but finally called it a night and went to bed at perhaps around midnight.

I got up around roughly 08:00, as did Hanna, who started working in the kitchen. I read for quite a long time, enjoying the morning sunlight on the porch in front of the cabin. The others continued to sleep until about 09:00. Soon we all had a great breakfast--eggs, bacon, and other fruits and things on the side. Following that, we spent a good while cleaning up and packing up. We started loading the car around maybe 11:15 or so, and finally locked the cabin up around noon. Jon fixed a leak in my bike tire for me, then he, Sherry and I rode down the road to the Management and Sam's Camps, meeting Hanna and Eric there. It was a pleasant ride on the relatively flat dirt road. The weather was again beautiful, and we enjoyed the scenery along the way, including views of the Dead Diamond River, which the road follows. We passed a fairly large group of backpackers on the road, presumably undergraduates on a Dartmouth Outing Club freshman orientation trip, and a car or maybe two, but for the most part it was a peaceful, quiet ride.

Once we caught up with Hanna and Eric, the five of us (not including Jet, who had returned with Kristen) hiked about a mile up the trail to the cliffs on Diamond Peaks and had lunch while taking in the views. The trip up wasn't always easy, but overall it was a fairly short trip, and so we hardly broke a sweat. It was windy and cool up there, but enjoyable. After absorbing the views and trying to identify some of the nearby points of interest, we made our way back down to the cars. We passed a gentleman with two young girls, one of whom seemed awfully disgruntled, and the other her precise opposite, gleaming with glee.

It took us a while to get our three bikes properly situated on the back of Hanna and Eric's car. Once that was done, though, we crammed ourselves in, piling additional gear on our laps and all the while chuckling at the ridiculousness of our cramped quarters. Despite the lack of elbow room, our discomfort was fairly minimal, and we stopped only to open the gate on the way out of the Grant. We made it back to Hanover at around 18:00, happy at the success of the trip, but sad that it was already over.

It was a hot, dry week with lots of views, lots of rugged mountains, and some gnarly bushwhacking. Travis, Kevin and I had hoped to get started early on Saturday the 7th, but the weather and our airline had different ideas. We managed to make it to the tiny town of Glacier in northwestern Washington by Saturday night. We arrived at the Douglas Fir Campground, which was packed full, after dark and managed to get assigned a space set up our tent in the picnic area. Despite the fact that Trav's new tent had never been taken out of its bag yet (Kevin picked it up from REI in Seattle, where Trav had it delivered, on his way from Missoula)—not to mention that it was after dark—we three managed to get it set up in about 90 seconds flat. It was so easy that it was almost a pleasure to set up. We didn't do much after getting it set up besides brush our teeth and go to sleep as a few other campers set up their tents nearby in the grass.

We were anxious to get going, so as the fog still lingered at 06:30 the next morning, we were up and getting ready to go. We got our stuff packed up and into the truck, changed our clothes, and headed to the Glacier Public Service Station down the road where the ranger station was located. We needed to get permits for our trip and hoped to get some good information about possible off-trail routes we could do. From about 07:15 until 08:00, when the building opened, we stood around the back of Kevin's truck packing everything up. We had a lot of food. Kevin had done the meal planning and food purchasing, and it wasn't hard to tell that we were going to be eating well. I just hoped the extra weight wouldn't wear us down too much. Kevin and I went in to talk to the ranger, and though he wasn't rude, he wasn't very helpful at all. He denied that there were any backcountry routes, and suggested that we should've done more research before arriving. However, when I'd called on the phone, they suggested specifically that we spend time talking with rangers on our arrival. In the end, Kevin was extremely frustrated, but we did hash out a plan which allowed for three nights camping in backcountry zones—one in the Tapto Lakes region, and two in the Bear Mountain region. We'd have to find our routes ourselves, but we had some ideas in mind from looking at our map.

While Kev was battling it out with the ranger trying to squeeze some information out of him, Trav came in to see what was taking so long. He stayed inside while I went out to keep an eye on all of our stuff, which was strewn about around the truck. On my way out I noticed a huge brown slug—many times larger than any I'd ever seen—and was fascinated enough to stop and take a bunch of photos of it. I then continued packing until Trav and Kev finally came out with our permits. We finished up our packing and headed east road 31, which then led to a dirt forest service road numbered 32. Shortly after turning onto it, as we drove along the North Fork of the Nooksack River, a gorgeous view opened out over the river to a distant mountain (probably Mt. Shuksan). Beyond there we were surrounded by fairly dense forest as Kev bounced us quickly along the potholed road. We arrived at the parking area, which had dozens of cars and quite a few people, at shortly before 10:00. We'd already packed just about everything up, so we were ready to hit the trail after just a few minutes. We took a short look at the trailhead post board, then started off on our journey at just a few minutes before 10:00.

Just a short distance up the trail—which was cleared very wide as it led us through an region of thick brush—we reached a register, and I signed us in. The "trip leader" box was marked simply "Premore", since we're all equals on these outings. We continued on the wide swatch of a trail as it very gradually ascended on its way east through the valley of Ruth Creek. From the parking lot before we left we could already see a rugged, towering ridgeline just to our north, and only minutes into the hike another ridge appeared to us on the south side of Ruth Creek, forming the valley wall. Though not particularly high, the ridgeline's length and variety of forms and vegetation patterns made it an attractive sight as we hiked along, and we stopped frequently to examine it's various slides, notches, cliffs, and snow fields. I had my camera out, as usual, and Travis had his along as well. For the first part of the day there were numerous butterflies, and I was constantly feeling compelled to try and track them down for a photo. They seemed particularly restless, however, and never stayed put long enough for me to snap one. I tried occasionally to do so during the remainder of the trip, but for the most part gave up on it on the first day. I did manage to photograph one wildflower that was in abundance, though—the Indian paintbrush, with clusters of red tube-like petals, that Kevin pointed out.

As our elevation grew and we moved ever closer to Hannegan Pass, which awaited us at the end of the valley, our views of the valley wall opposite us remained unobscured. We crossed a handful of trickling streams, probably from snow melt high above us, and leapt at the opportunity to dunk our hats and splash our faces to help us refresh us in the heat. Ruth Mountain—also at the end of the valley, just south of the pass—came into view as we proceeded, its upper portion heavily covered in snow, which burned white in the hot morning sun. As we neared the pass, the trail entered occasional forested section, and I noticed that my heels were starting to get hot spots, precursors to blisters. I was wearing brand new boots, but they were the same exact kind as my previous pair, and those had been so pliable and comfortable that they needed no break-in time. I'd worn these around a little, and had broken them in a bit, but for some reason my heels still rubbed. I stopped a couple of times to make adjustments, but as we entered a series of switchbacks as we neared the pass, the problem still hadn't gone away. Just as I was distracted by my heels, we reached a spur trail to the Hannegan Campground, which we'd not realized was there. It was outside the National Park, and not even marked on my map. We continued past it, and the switchbacks got shorter as the trail entered a steep meadowy area with excellent views of the snowy summit cap of Ruth Mountain which was now quite close to us. We stopped for a few minutes to rest and admire it, and spotted two hikers—merely specks—making their way across its vast snow fields. We continued from there, and I fully expected that we had a long way to go before reaching the pass. I was started and quite pleased when the earth ahead of us suddenly gave way, through some large evergreens, to distant mountains on the other side of the pass. The time was 12:30.

We found a number of other hikers resting at the pass, and happily joined them for a break of our own. There was a friedly bearded ranger there as well, and after dropping our packs by a large log, Kevin and I started chatting with him almost immediately. We expressed our displeasure at the lack of help we'd received down at the ranger station, and he was surprised at how we'd been treated. Though he didn't have much information to share with us himself, he pointed us to a group of two men and two women who had just come through the Bear Mountain backcountry region, which was exactly where we'd planned to go. Kevin and I peppered them with questions and they were glad to help us out with whatever information they could. Our spirits were lifted immensely with the knowledge that the route we were considering to attempt was in fact very doable. One of the guys even penned their approximate route on our map for us. We'd hoped to follow a ridgeline from just above Middle Lakes all the way around to Bear Lake, then take either the Bear Creek or Indian Creek valley back down to meet with the Chilliwack Trail again. They said they'd gone down the Indian Creek valley, and that there were even remnants of an old trail on the northern side of it. What a big psychological boost this was!

We remained at the pass, resting, snacking, and taking in the views, for quite some time. The ranger and all of the other hikers that were there parted, and other day hikers came and went, apparently from the campground we'd just passed on our way up. The pass had a large grassy meadow with occasional patches colorful flowers, and beyond it were views of the mountains ahead. During our break, I wandered around the meadow a bit, chasing butterflies futilely with my camera. Finally, at perhaps 13:30, we decided to pack up and hit the trail again.

We headed up the trail out of the pass, traversing alongside Hannegan Peak, slowly descending toward the valley of the Chilliwack River. We very quickly reached a clearing with some views down to the valley at the border of the National Park, which we hadn't yet actually entered. There was a lone shirtless hiker there resting and snacking. He seemed to have a bit of a sneaky grin on his face from the moment we said hello. We chatted with him briefly, enough to learn that he'd been hiking illicitly in the park for a few days. He said he'd started out with a 98-pound pack, which we learned upon asking was loaded up with steaks and beer. We asked him about bears too, and he said he'd seen them every night, though there was something about this guy that made us question the truth of just about everything he said. He was friendly enough to us, though, and we wished him well and headed off.

The trail branched from the border, and we took the fork to the right, which quickly immersed us in the dense forest of the wet western side of the Cascade Range. The other fork led upward to Copper Ridge--we'd be coming back around that way at the end of the week. Sun peeked through the dense canopy of the forest, and it was a comfortable hike despite the unusually high temperature. We were also pleased to find numerous blueberries and huckleberries scattered along the trail, with occasional thick clumps of them, where we'd stop for a yummy snack. It turned out that these were only the beginning; we'd continue to find loads of blueberries and huckleberries--and even a few raspberries--throughout the week. We proceeded along, with occasional views through the trees of the mountains which surrounded us, or of the river below us. After a while, the continually descending trail was starting to get to me--my feet were feeling sore and quite tired of the unending down. At around 15:15 or so, though, we reached a river crossing shortly before the Copper Creek Campground. We stopped for a break, and said hello to a group of three guys that were hanging out there. I sat on a log and stared at the crystal clear water and the rocks below it. Kevin pulled off his boots and socks and cooled off his feet, and Trav burned apparently excess energy by smacking rocks with a stick, baseball-style.

Shortly before we continued on from this break, two guys that I hadn't noticed before came out of the woods nearby and passed us, stopping briefly to chat. They were in their 40s maybe, and seemed a little bit eccentric, but nothing too out of the ordinary for being in the backcountry. The continued past us, heading the same direction as we were. Just minutes later, we were on the trail behind them, catching up. Travis and Kevin got ahead of me--perhaps when I stopped to take photos of a giant green slug that was sitting on the trail--and soon reached and passed the odd couple. I caught up soon after, just as the trail reached a vast treeless area at the base of a long slide in the deep river valley. The grasses and shrubs had grown up thick and tall, and the trail was narrow and overgrown. There was no room to easily pass another hiker, though had they noticed me it wouldn't have been much trouble for them to step aside. However, it appeared that they did not in fact notice me behind them, despite my attempts to shuffle my feet a little and make some noise. So I followed them at their slower-than-me but not terribly slow pace, for several minutes along the trail.

Eventually I believe I did manage to get around them. I think it was because Travis and Kevin finally stopped to wait for me, though I don't recall for sure. Or perhaps the three of us just let them get ahead again and hiked along to the next camp--the US Cabin Campground--behind them. In either case, it wasn't really all that far, and we got there at about 17:15. We first looked around the section of the camp that was supposedly the stock camp--for horses and the like--but realized that the main portion of the camp was further down the trail. We cut through the woods briefly and found it, as well as the two other hikers, who were still acting somewhat aloof. We hiked down the camp's spur trail toward the river, and passed a few other more down to earth guys who were setting up their camp. We said hello and continued along the river, finally encountering an empty site which we claimed as our own. It was only about 10 meters from the river, though the bank rose about 3 meters so we could hear it but not see it. The water level seemed pretty low anyway, as the bed was much wider than the river itself, and contained lots of loose stones, washed clean during times of higher waters.

Before starting dinner, we spent a bit of time exploring our brief home, particularly the river. There was a small stony ait in the river, and we hopped across a few rocks in our down booties to get onto it. Visible in both directions along the river were lone peaks reaching up toward the sky. The thick forest surrounding the camp left us in the shade long before the sun went down, though we could see the valley walls high above us still glowing in the sunlight. After looking around and changing into more comfortable clothing, we started getting our food out for dinner. Now let me just say that if I had been the one responsible for planning the meals, we probably would've had a lot of noodle packets and freeze dried food. But luckily I was not in charge--Kevin was (he volunteered). As a result, we ate really well--as good or better than back home in many respects! We had packed in fresh vegetables, several kinds of packaged meats, desserts, and of course, fixings for calzones. On this our first evening in the backcountry, we decided to make burritos. Fresh peppers and onions were sauteed in a regular frying pan which Kevin had strapped to the back of his pack for the entire trip. That was on stove #1. On stove #2 there were beans and rice cooking. Once each was ready, we mixed them together and spooned them into tortillas, rolled them up, and feasted. Of course, I tried to put too much in mine, as I usually do with burritos, and it the tortilla started breaking open all over. I ended up having to wrap it in a second tortilla to keep it under control, while Travis snapped pictures of my troubles.

Once we'd eaten and cleaned up, we hung out around camp a bit before finally getting all the food together to be put away for the night. We had tons. One down side to eating well on a week-long trip like this is that you end up carrying some extra weight. We'd brought two bear cannisters with us, and I packed them meticulously to try to fit as much in as possible. Once full, they were placed behind a nearby log. The remainder of the food, placed in stuff sacks, would have to be hung to keep the resident bears away from it. Travis and I searched around for a good place to hang the food, which is always a challenge. Eventually we ended up where the group of three guys nearby us had just finished hanging theirs, somewhat pathetically, on a somewhat low branch and only a few feet from the tree's trunk. We figured connivingly that if we could just do better than that, the bears would get theirs first. Of course, we knew that the bears would probably be hungry enough to go for ours too even if they got theirs. The guys had kindly offered us a good length of lightweight twine as they were finishing hanging their bags, and we accepted, as it was better than our twine. They also kindly pointed out a perfect branch for hanging the food on, suggesting we use it if possible, but that it wasn't easy to get a rope over it. We figured they'd tried for a while without success before resorting to the much lower, bear-accessible branch on which their food now hung. I headed back to camp to get the food bags, and Trav tied a rock to the string. He had a big grin on his face when I returned, and I was shocked and elated to learn that he'd nailed a perfect toss on the first try. That never happens! At least not to me, after having gone through this process a number of times. We tied on the food and hoisted it way up, then secured the line to another nearby tree. We felt pretty confident that our food was safe as we returned to camp.

It was getting pretty dark now, and we started a fire in the pit in the center of our camp.

Sherry and I headed south on the Long Trail from Forest Road 10, near Danby, at shortly before 10:00. It was a beautiful sunny day and not too hot. We signed in at the registry just a short distance down the trail, and then soon ran into a lone northbound LT hiker who we had a nice chat with. We continued along, making gear adjustment stops here and there, and soon reached the bridge across the Big Branch River, which the first of two suspension bridges we'd cross. We then turned left onto the Old Job Trail, with the plan being to make a loop with the Long Trail back to this point tomorrow. We walked along the river, spotting wildlife here and there, including a few frogs, and a caterpillar in the air right in front of us, hanging from a long thread, presumably attached to a tree far above us. We saw numerous interesting wildflowers, many of which I stopped to photograph. We also passed by an enormous brown sawdust mound--who knows how old but presumably from past logging operations--in what seemed like the middle of nowhere, and stopped to climb up and check it out. A colorful butterfly played with us, the first of many that we'd see. We continued, soon crossing Lake Brook on the other suspension bridge. Just across the bridge was the Old Job Shelter, and to our delight, dozens of butterflies. We took tons of photos, and a couple of them even landed on Sherry. They were primarily white admirals, but at least one other species was there too. After a long break, we continued up the trail, stopping to take many more photos of flowers, insects, and other animals. We didn't see anyone for quite a while, but eventually did pass some people in an area where the trail passes the end of a forest road. At that point, the trail was essentially an old road. We continued seeing tons of butterflies all over the place, still mainly white admirals, and took pictures here and there as we hiked up the road. A ways up the road, at about 13:00, we stopped for lunch by the stream that the trail had been following. We didn't stop for too long, as the mosquitos were bothersome. Continuing on, we snapped still more photos, including a bunch of a garter snake, and then concentrated on hiking for the last gradual uphill stretch to the Griffith Lake tenting area.

We got there around 14:45 and claimed a tent platform, then explored around a bit. We spotted a gorgeous lone iris growing in the shrubs near the shore, and later would find several more hidden around the lake. We walked south a bit on the LT and had fun looking at the several dragonflies we encountered, as well as some salamanders. We then walked on an old road around to the other side, where we found a couple of illegal camp sites. We found our way down to the shore and had fun with a tiny inchworm, then started back around the lake again. We passed four backpackers who intended to camp in this area, despite the fact that it wasn't allowed. We met the caretaker, Greg, briefly on our way back around. We hiked south a bit on the LT to find some running water to fill our bottles to boil for dinner (I'd brought iodine tablets, but no filter, since it no longer works properly), and ended up getting it near the Peru Shelter. On the way over there, we crossed a stream on a bridge, and decided to rock-hop along the stream a little ways since it looked like it opened up into a marshy area, and thought maybe there'd be a moose if we were lucky. We didn't see much, though. On the way back from getting water, I walked along the stream in the other direction to take a brief look at another clearing, which turned out to be a swampy area behind a beaver dam. We then returned to our tent site, settled in and got camp set up, then made dinner from a freeze-dried meal package. An older couple had set up their tent nearby, though we ended up not really talking with them at all. Soon Greg came around again and thanked us for camping according to the rules. He filled us in on how he'd tried to talk the others across the lake into moving to a legal spot, and that they'd refused. After eating, we wandered back to a community fire pit we'd seen by the lake, and found two women working on starting a fire. We joined them and enjoyed chatting for a long time, until almost 22:00. At that point I struggled to find my way back to the tent in the dark, which was pretty difficult and a bit scary, but I did finally make it. I retrieved our two headlamps and returned to the now extinguished fire, gave one to Sherry, at which point we made our way to the tent for the night. We headed right to bed, quite exhausted.

I slept very well, and didn't get up until about 09:30. We had oatmeal for breakfast and then wandered around the area for a while again. We walked up the trail to the Peru Shelter to get running water again, as we'd done last night. We also explored up the streambed again to further explore the boggy area behind the beaver dam. There were many more irises, butterflies, and salamanders. We then got packed up, and finally hit the trail at around 11:00. We made our way along, stopping for breaks and gear adjustments, and played verbal word games as we went. We saw a few others along the way, but not many. Soon we reached the scramble up to the summit of Baker Peak--the first and only serious uphill we'd have on this trip. We had no trouble getting up, though it was tiring, and found a number of day hikers at the top. After a break for a snack and to take in the views, we continued on, beginning a long, gradual descent. Along the way we bumped into an LT-hiking couple a number of times, and chatted with them. Eventually we reached a short spur trail to the Lost Pond Shelter, and so we headed over there for a lunch break at around 13:30. The same couple that we'd seen a few times before was there, as well as the older couple that were our neighbors last night. We had nice chats with all of them as we cooked another freeze-dried meal for lunch. I gave some iodine tablets to the older couple after they returned from pumping water and said that their filter had broken, and they were very thankful. After they and the others had headed off, I spent quite a while chasing around a butterfly with beautiful rusty colors, finally getting a few good photos of it. We then were on our way again, heading towards the junction where our loop began. When we reached it, we took a walk down to the nearby river and sat down for a break and snack. We found a frog, a tiny salamander, and another friendly butterfly to take photos of. We got back on our way again, crossing the river on a suspension bridge a moment later and then running into that same LT-hiking couple yet again, this time at the Big Branch Shelter. We talked briefly and then continued on our way. Shortly thereafter, we were offered a beer by a day hiker, but refused and thanked him for the offer. The final stretch went by fairly quickly, and just as we reached the road again, we saw the older couple a short distance ahead of us. We walked down the road to a bridge over a stream just before the parking lot and walked down to dip our feet in the cool water. It felt very good, and as we came up we chatted with the older gentleman--a very friendly fellow--one last time before heading home.

Mom, Dad, Sherry and I started hiking from perhaps a kilometer past the register box for the Wakely Mountain Trail, since the trail was actually still a driveable road for a ways. So Dad drove it until it got pretty rough, then we pulled off to the side. It turns out that the road quality was good for the next kilometer or so, and we could have driven that too if we'd tried. We got out of the truck and quickly put on long sleeve clothing, bug nets, and bug spray, and were immediately swarmed by black flies. W started hiking at shortly after 13:00, and as soon as we did, the black flies stopped bothering us. We walked up the road to where it was finally blocked off, crossed an old walkbridge across a stream, and continued on along a brook that Dad checked out a few times for its trout fishing potential. The trail proceeded gradually uphill through the woods and we chatted as we hiked. At shortly before 14:00 we reached a turn with a beaver pond straight ahead and our trail to the right. An old trail sign said it was 1.2 miles to the top, and scratched into the sign it said "very hard". The book had said the last mile was very steep, too. So we headed up, not pushing too hard on the difficult trail, and taking occasional breaks to rehydrate. We passed one couple not long after starting the hard part, and said a quick hello. The footing was pretty poor in some places, and we had to be careful about not slipping as we climbed up some little sections of exposed rock.

As we neared got higher and higher, occasional views opened up through the trees. Since Wakely is the highest mountain around, you could see pretty far on this bright, though cloudy, day. We soon spotted the tower through the trees, and knew we were just about there. Just before the true summit we passed a side spur that led to a big wooden platform that the book said was an old helicopter pad, to my surprise. We checked it out briefly, then made for the tower at the summit. There was also a pretty nice cabin by the summit. We snapped a few pictures of us all together, then Sherry and I put on some warmer layers and headed up the tower. At 92 feet high, it's the tallest in the Adirondacks. It was a bit scary going up, but not bad. The wind picked up once we were above the trees, and cooled us down quickly. The views opened up in all directions through the clear air under the many fluffy cumulus clouds. We hung out in the enclosed top section of the tower, etook a few pictures, and enjoyed the extensive views. It was amazing how many hills and mountains there were all around, and I wished I could identify even just one. I did pick out Raquette Lake, but that was about it. We didn't stay up there for too long, and just before we started to climb down--the ladder out of the top part of the tower was scariest--the wind picked up and was blowing pretty hard. We took it slow, though, and got down with no trouble. We checked out the cabin briefly, which appeared to have been recently refinished inside--it looked reall y nice--and then headed on down the trail behind Mom and Dad.

We moved pretty quick going down, and soon passed a single hiker on his way up. After a little while, with most of the steep stuff behind us, we stopped and sat on some rocks on the trail to have lunch. We ate and chatted, and the clouds overhead seemed to thicken as we lost some of the brightness we'd enjoyed earlier. We even felt a few drops of rain, but that didn't last. The hiker we'd passed near the top caught up to us on his way down, and we enjoyed chatting with him for a bit. He continued, and we soon packed up again and followed. We passed another couple not long after that as we worked our way down the rest of the steep stuff. Before too long we were back at the turn in the trail by the beaver pond, and we took a short detour to check it out. I wandered down an old road/trail that seemed to go around to the other end of the pond, and took a few picturs. Then I ran back to rejoin the others, hoping they hadn't wondered where I'd disappeared to. They were still looking around, and when I got back we headed back down the trail. Just as we did, we saw what was probably a father and daughter taking a break on a rock, and said hello. We then cruised quickly on down the gentle slope of the trail, passing by familiar landmarks from on the way in. By about 16:45 we'd made it back to the truck, which we hopped into quickly in order to keep from having another black fly attack. We headed back down toward the main road and were on our way back.

John, Nancy, Sarah, Sherry, and I all arrived at Chad's place in San Mateo, California, on Friday, May 29. We spent the next morning getting things together for the trip: preparing the bikes, shopping for food, and packing our clothes, dishes, and other necessities into the 30-foot RV we'd rented as our support vehicle. We finally hit the road, John driving first, at about 12:45. It took a while to get out of the San Francisco metro area, but once we finally did it was smooth sailing. It was so nice to have a small mobile "home" to move around in, making the trip much nicer than it would have been in a car. Eventually we made a rest stop at a gas station and I took over driving. I took us up Route 5 until it hit Route 36, a much smaller, windier road heading west. I only drove on that briefly, then Chad took over as the rest of us started getting a bit nauseated from the rolling roads (except for Sherry). It was beautiful country, but we were all anxious to get to our destination. We finally did around maybe 19:30--an RV park at the Trinity Fairground in Trinity, CA. A nice gentleman, probably the proprietor, showed us to our site and helped us newbies get set up with all of the various RV hook-ups. We then got dinner going--Sherry cooked a tasty pasta and sauce--and also tried our bikes out to make sure they were adjusted properly. I tried out clipless pedals for the first time. After eating our meal, we cleaned up and got the bikes locked up outside. Before I knew it it was after 22:00, and by 23:00 we were pretty much all in bed. Chad and Eva slept outside in their tent, the rest of us inside.

Sunday, May 30

I got up at maybe 07:15 or 07:30, as did everyone else it seemed. We had oatmeal for breakfast and everyone started getting all of their cycling stuff together. I had a lot of help from the bike techies, namely John and Chad, and we hit the road, finally, at about 09:30. It was a gorgeous day all around. Not too hot, not too cool, and almost perfectly clear, sunny skies. For much of the ride there were hardly any cars, though in some sections there were times when there were a bunch. We started off with a mostly level cruise back the way we'd come, towards Route 36. After a few miles we started the first of two big ascents of the day. It was a 4-mile hill, and Chad and Eva went on ahead while Sherry, Nancy and I stayed back. I took a bunch of pictures while riding, which I didn't get to do as much later in the day. It took a while to get up the hill, but we all did well, and took our first break at the sag wagon, which John drove up to the top along with Sarah.

Nancy took over driving, and from there we rode just a short distance before reaching a 7-mile downhill, which was pretty thrilling. It took me some time to get comfortable with it, what with the road bike handlebars and brake configuration that I'm not really used to. John, Chad, and Eva cruised ahead of Sherry and I, though we caught up to them at one point as they were waiting for John to repair a flat tire. We continued on as they did that, passing Nancy as well who'd stopped at a nearby parking area.

At the bottom of the hill (the town of Forest Glen, population 25), we were supposed to meet Nancy, but weren't sure where. We pulled over and waited in the shade of some trees by the road, and Nancy drove past before long. We figured she was going to pull over a little ways up the road, so didn't sweat it, but later on we realized that she never saw us there. This would lead to considerable confusion. We continued waiting for the others to catch up. Though I thought we were in plain sight, they too cruised right on past us, only stopping when I shouted. We then continued riding together.

We started on a gradual uphill out of Forest Glen that turned into a more steady uphill, which was in total six miles long. It was a long, tiring climb, but Sherry and I, behind the others, continued steadily along, taking just one real break along the way for some rest. Once we reached the top, we met John, Chad, and Eva waiting there and taking in the beautiful views afforded at the high point. We were surprised not to find Nancy, though, and a little concerned. We met a motorcyclist named Leo who was taking in the vista, and took a nice long break. I was really hungry, and had some bars and Gu. Eventually we headed off on another nice long descent, eventually getting to a greasy spoon called the Burger Bar, where Sherry and I again caught up with the others and we had some burgers and fries for lunch. Pretty tasty, actually. After that break, the others headed off, not to be seen again until just about the end of the trip. There were a lot of rolling ups and downs, with an occasional longer uphill. Sherry and I were pretty beat, and it was harder to enjoy the scenery--which was incredible at times--but we tried. There were some ridges running parallel to our route, some fully wooded, another with a lot of cleared farmland. It was all beautiful.

At one point the road narrowed considerably and got quite windy, zig-zagging through the thickly forested, rolling terrain. We enjoyed some views, and then a nice downhill cruise around the curving roadway, all the while wondering how Nancy was doing, and quite amazed that the RV had been (or would be) navigated down this narrow forest road. It turns out that she was well ahead of us, equally worried about our well-being.

We knew we supposedly had a long downhill at the very end of the day, and we kept working towards that, taking frequent breaks on the uphills. Finally, we reached what we thought was the high point before that final descent. We took a nice long break, took some pictures of the rolling hills and farmland around us, and then started down. Turns out it wasn't entirely downhill from there, though much of it was. There were steep descents interspersed with gentler ones and some flat and uphill. We pressed on, every moment hoping we were almost there. After passing some interesting sights--a gigantic conical metal silo-looking thing with one side falling in, as well as an old air strip. We knew we had to be getting close. There was a headwind on much of the last several miles, and we were ready to be done. About five miles before our destination--the Grizzly Creek Campground--Nancy and John showed up in the RV.

We were glad to see it, having been quite worried about the confusion that had ensued along the way. They offered us a ride, and although quite tired, I quickly declined, because getting this close I knew wanted to finish it. Sherry probably wouldn't have, but decided to continue with me. Those last five miles weren't actually that difficult, and before we knew it, we started seeing redwood trees and we were there. Our bodies were aching everywhere, butts, arms, hands, neck, and of course, legs. We sat for a while, and eventually changed clothes and sat at a nearby picnic table munching on chips and salsa with Chad and John. We all took turns taking hot showers at the campground facilities, and then Sherry cooked up a wonderful chicken and veggie dish, which we ate while sitting in the dark around a campfire that had been given to us by some nice folks who had built one before heading out. We enjoyed that for a bit, but soon headed in and to bed, exhausted, at about 22:30.

Monday, May 31

I got up around maybe 08:00, and felt much better than expected, though still somewhat worn out. Sherry felt the same way. We all took our time getting going in the morning, with lots of bike repairs and adjustment to make, and eggs and cheese for breakfast. The weather was great yet again, though there was definitely a headwind on much of the day's ride. We started out pretty late--around 10:30--and rode for a ways through redwoods. It seemed that there was something picturesque around every turn. We rode for a while along the Van Duzen River ("our old friend"), which we crossed several times today and yesterday as well. Sherry and I cruised right along, though Nancy was way ahead--she started early--and Chad and Eva passed us after starting a bit after we did. The first 28 miles of today's ride were mostly downhill, and we cruised right along. After 15 miles and one uphill, we met John and the RV in Hydesville at a gas station. We took a short break, then continued on, turning off of Route 36 onto Rohnerville Road. We cruised down that road, passing through a bunch of towns, some a little wealthier than others, and definitely bigger than most of the towns yesterday. Eventually we reached Route 101, a limited access highway, and after a moment of checking to make sure we got on in the right direction, we headed north onto it and rode two exits, getting off onto Route 1 and heading south. There were a couple of sections with almost no shoulder that were a little daunting, but not bad. We took a left and crossed an extremely narrow and quite long bridge with plenty of traffic. It was windy and exposed, and definitely nerve-wracking. After that was a long, flat, open ride in pastureland. There were big shoulders and a decent headwind, but we plugged along and soon enough met up with John and everyone else at the RV on the outskirts of Ferndale.

We took a nice long lunch break, and my cell phone was working for the first time so I called home and left a message. We continued from there into town where there was a celebration of sorts going on, part of something called the Kinetic Sculpture race. Parked all along the main street were human-powered bicycle-type vehicles made up creatively to look as weird as possible, it seemed. John and I walked our bikes around, taking pictures as we looked at all of the interesting vehicles and funnily dressed folks. There were also food vendors and musicians--all in all a fun time. We didn't linger for very long, though, making a right turn onto Ocean Road and then a quick left onto Mattone Road, which wasted no time in going straight up. Sherry had made a smart move in deciding to ride with Nancy in the RV for this one. It was almost 7 miles, and steep. I was crawling, definitely slower than than the others, and practically cursing myself, but putting one foot after another time after time. We stopped a couple of times, mostly for me I think, but just kept on cranking. Eventually the scenery started getting better, and we stopped to snap a photo here and there, which gave me a rest. Finally the pastoral hilltop appeared, and though we weren't at the highest point, we were very close. We took a bunch of pictures, then continued on a bit further, until we could finally see the ocean, which was quite a sight.

From there it was an amazing rolling cruise along the hilltops, with some longer downhills and a few uphills, and lots and lots of photo opportunities. 360 degrees worth at most times. After cruising non-stop for some distance, I finally stopped, along with Eva, to take some pictures of the ever-closer ocean. It was phenomenal. From there we continued down, cautiously over a cattle grate, at which point Nancy and Sherry caught up with us. We chatted briefly, and they continued on. From there it was a considerable descent before the second killer uphill. It was much shorter, but steeper and I didn't think I was going to make it. I had to really fight myself to keep motivated on a couple of the steepest sections, and was crawling as slowly as is possible. I stopped just twice, and as the road got less steep, I felt a lot better. I continued on, slowly still, and eventually made my way to the high point, where John was waiting with Sherry and Nancy at the RV. Eva was working hard behind me, Chad along with her. They arrived soon after I did.

We took a nice break, and I volunteered to drive, which I was more than happy to do. Everyone else rode. I said goodbye, and after they took off, I spent a while changing and having a snack. Then Sarah and I hit the road, driving the RV carefully along the narrow, hilly, and sometimes very winding road. The ocean views were even more spectacular than before as we made our way downhill toward it. Soon we were down at sea level, following a long straight section of road southward along the shore. I passed the others before long as I cruised slowly, taking in as much of the views as I could. At the end of the straightaway, I turned eastward (left) and uphill, and wound my way through a wooded area, stopping at about the 10 mile mark as counted from the previous stop, and waited for the others. I played with Sarah a lot, and took a short walk outside up the road. They took a while to arrive, having stopped at the oceanside to check out the shore. On their arrival, they had drinks and snacks and we all stood around and chatted before they headed off again. I was right behind them, and passed them soon, winding my way through mostly woodsy areas, and through the small, remote town of Petrolia.

Eventually I reached the A. W. Way Campground, where I pulled in to find it almost deserted. I spent a moment reading some of the signs at the entrance, then drove around the loop road looking for RV hookups, though found none. So I picked a good looking spot near the river that flowed behind the park, and backed the RV in. I put Sarah in a baby backpack and we went for a walk down by the river. It was about 19:30. When we came back up from the river a short time later, I was surprised to see that John, Sherry, and Eva were already back! They'd gone quickly, especially since there was more uphill than expected on the final stretch. We all settled in for the evening, and Chad and I took a walk around the park to pay and check out the facilities. I then spent a while helping organize and get things set up while Sherry cooked a tasty chicken curry. By the time we ate it was almost 22:00. We hung around a bit and joked and chatted, finally all heading off to bed by around 22:30.

Tuesday, June 1

I got up at about 07:30 and we were all much quicker at getting our acts together this morning. We had fruit and other quick items for breakfast, and I spent some time typing up the journal entry for yesterday, which I'd forgotten to do last night. I got dressed quickly, put on sunscreen and did other riding preparations, and at about 09:30 we were on the road. Nancy drove the first stretch, and the rest of us rode. The first 8 miles were pretty leisurely, with mostly flat terrain and superb vistas of the rolling hills nearby. We saw some turkeys, and passed right by a herd of cattle that had just crossed the road, it appeared. A few were still in the road. I took lots of movies and pictures as we made our way along, as I'd gotten quite good at doing so while riding. We finally arrived at the tiny town of Honeydew, where we overheard a local talking about us as we passed a small grocery store: "That road's 5 miles straight up!" he said to a companion. After passing that store we turned left (at the first we'd encountered in many miles), crossed a long one-lane bridge, and started up the day's long ascent--about 8 miles up, supposedly steeper than yesterday. We chugged away, starting out on a not-too-steep, but quite steady up, with lots of switchbacks. The others went ahead as Sherry and I made our way along. We kept expecting it to get steeper, though we caught up with everyone at the RV and it still hadn't yet, which was at about the 4-mile mark of the hill.

We took a nice break there, had some snacks, and then continued the climb, slowly but steadily. We took occasional breaks and enjoyed the views back down into the valley, though they paled in comparison with yesterday's views. Turns out, the road never got steeper. In fact, it got flatter and flatter, and finally seemed to start going slightly down. All the while we were surrounded by trees, with no more views to be had. At one point, we saw what we believed to be a bobcat standing in the road. We saw it before it saw us, and it finally turned and trotted the other way, turning into the woods. Soon the downhill got steeper, and the next thing we knew, we were cruising several miles down a zig-zagging, often bumpy road all the way back to the valley. We caught up with the others on a bridge, where we took a nice little break, then continued just a short distance further where we found Nancy at big parking area next to a large meadow.

We took a very long lunch break there, putting tarps down in the one shady area we could find to escape the hot sun, and having ourselves a picnic. After thoroughly enjoying our lunch break, which included some Trivial Pursuit questions, we hit the road yet again. Chad and Eva took to the pavement with Sarah and the RV for this leg, and the rest of us quickly entered a grove of redwoods. It was enthralling to be riding on a narrow, winding road squeezed between such gigantic trees. Not a minute down the trail, we turned right onto a short side road where we hopped off of our bikes and took a short walk to see "Giant Tree" and "Flatiron Tree". After that we continued down the main road again, riding in and out of groves of redwoods, and following the wide but mostly dry bed of one of the branches of the Eel River. After a little while, we reached Route 101. We took an underpass below it, then turned right onto the Avenue of the Giants, a many-mile long road through thousands of redwood trees. Since the long July 4 weekend was over, traffic was fairly light, and cruising down the well-paved road was a delight. We stopped here and there for a snack or break, including one bathroom break at a campground where all the sites were squeezed in among the trees. It was as if everything was a woody brown color, and almost like a fairy tale town in the forest.

As we neared the very end of the Avenue, we made a stop at a tourist trap with a drive-through tree, which wasn't as impressive as I'd expected, but still kind of neat. John chatted briefly with the peculiar woman who took our payments, and after identifying John as a "big talker", she proclaimed proudly to be a an ever bigger talker than he, and made sure to get in the last word.

A little ways after that, just a few miles from our destination of Phillipsville, I got my chain wedged pretty good between my sprockets, and John helped me right the situation while Sherry and Nancy continued. We soon continued ourselves, chatting a bit as we cruised the last stretch, arriving at the RV in a rest area just moments after the girls. We got changed and got all of the bikes into the vehicle, then drove a few miles on Route 101 to a nearby town to check out a restaurant for dinner. It was closed, but they pointed us to a place called Mateel's Cafe in the town of Redway, where we had a tremendous dinner. The waittress, who was also the owner, was extremely friendly and accommodating, and the food was fantastic. Most of us ordered far more than we could eat, though my appetite was voracious and I ate pretty much everything put in front of me, including a bunch of Sherry's food and a dessert.

Afterward we picked up lots of groceries from a big store just up the street, then drove to our RV park, which wasn't nearly as peaceful and quaint as the last place. We squeezed in next to another RV around 21:30, put away all of our groceries and hooked up the various tubes and cords to the RV. We locked the bikes up in the back of it, then all took showers in the park's shower rooms. Just about everyone was pretty tired, so most of us headed to bed. Chad and Eva set up down near the river behind the RV, and Chad was planning to make a fire. I was still hungry, to my own surprise, and had a slice of pizza in bed before finally going to sleep.

Wednesday, June 2

I slept in till 08:30, knowing that we were going to be taking it easy today. I got up and had some cereal for breakfast, and wandered out to see what the campgrounds looked like in daylight. It was a nice place, actually, with many amenities, including miniature golf, an arcade, ping-pong table, and swimming pool. I also took a brief look down at the river, which looked much like it did as we rode past it yesterday. I wandered up to see if the laundry room was open, and checked out the pool and mini golf course too. Sherry then joined me for a few games of pinball after I'd gotten some quarters for the laundry machines. John and Nancy ended up taking over laundry duty, and Chad and Eva joined Sherry and I for a fun 9 holes of mini golf. It was a well-worn old set of holes, but we enjoyed goofing around on them and I took tons of photos, of course. It was nearly noon by the time we finished, and we returned to the RV to join John and Nancy for a rest in the shade.

After chatting for a while with them and a friendly older RVer who happened by, I called home and chatted with Mom for a while. She seemed really delighted to hear about the trip. When I returned to the RV again (I'd gone out in a field to get better reception) I joined Sherry for a lunch of leftovers from last night's dinner. After that we debated going swimming in the river with Chad and Eva, though decided not to. We played a bit more pinball--I got the 2nd high score--and then tossed a couple of horseshoes before we all got into the RV and hit the road. We drove south for a couple of hours and stopped in a "big" town called Ukiah, where we found Dave's Bike Shop and headed inside to get bar ends for Sherry's bike and so Chad could talk to some of the employees to get ideas for tomorrow's ride. We'd changed from our original plan to drive up to Oregon for a day of riding. That would've required a lot more driving for only a little biking, so we decided to stay closer to San Francisco. We headed out of Ukiah at about 17:30 and before too long we made our way to a KOA campground in Cloverdale. It was pretty far out in the country, and the vineyards all around gave the landscape a groomed appearance.

We checked in and after getting a few things set up, all headed to the camp swimming pool. We chatted with a friendly woman and her two young children as we goofed around in the pool with John and Sarah. Sarah wasn't terribly happy with the water, especially after I accidentally gave her a little splash while retaliating to a squirt doled out by John from one of Sarah's water toys. Soon Chad and Eva joined us, and Nancy held Sarah at the poolside. After a while of fun in the pool, which we had all to ourselves after the other woman left, we moved to the adjacent hot tub. It was really nice, and we shared stories as we enjoyed the warmth and the sun went down. We didn't stay in for too long, getting out at about 20:00 and heading back to camp to make dinner. John cooked a "dirty rice" dish, with some help from others, which was pretty tasty.

As he was cooking I spent a bit of time on the journal and a while trying to free up space on my camera's memory, which to my surprise was actually getting full! After eating, all of us but Sarah and Eva, who both fell asleep, headed outside in the dark and chatted for a while at the picnic table. That was fun, but it finally started getting pretty chilly and I headed inside, soon followed by the others, at a bit after 23:00. I finished up the journal for the day, then headed to bed.

Thursday, June 3

I got up around maybe 08:00 and had a fairly leisurely morning. We slowly got ourselves together and ready to ride, though we had to drive a ways before jumping on the bikes. So we headed out of the KOA and down Route 101 to Healdsburg. It was a busy town, bigger than most we'd been through lately. We finally found a place to park on a side street and got out our bikes in the hot sun. Ever since we began heading south yesterday, the temperatures have been noticeably hotter. We finally started riding--Nancy took to the wheel of the RV--at a little after 11:00. We headed up Healdsburg Avenue, stopping at a few different gas stations and convenience stores to find out if the route that had been suggested for us would actually work. It was a good thing we checked, because one of the roads would not have taken us where expected. So we continued out of town, then turned right on Alexander Valley Road, quickly entering the fields of Sonoma County wine country.

While not as beautiful as the scenery of earlier in the week, it was certainly very pretty. The rows upon rows of grape vines seemed to go forever in some places. We moved along down the country roads at an easy pace, and turned onto a side road--Red Wine Road. We passed a number of wineries along the way, and stopped at the Robert Young winery for a tasting. The wine was quite good, and we enjoyed chatting with the owners. We continued on that road, which had pretty light traffic and felt wide open with all of the fields around. Soon we reached Route 128 and headed northward on this bigger road. We were near the highway, so it wasn't quite as pleasant as Red Wine Road, but the views were pretty extensive. We rode for quite a while, finally meeting Nancy with the RV on Asti Road next to the Asti winery at about 13:30. After taking a photo, I accidentally locked into my pedal while moving my bike and promptly fell over with my camera in my hand, not in its case, and banged it on the gravel. I was very agitated, but my camera seemed to survive with only some scratches. I myself had only a little scrape on my pinkie.

We decided to hop in the RV and skip the next little bit of riding and eat lunch. So, we drove to the Fritz Winery, which was a little further south and on the other side of 101. They had a sort of picnic area outside their visitor area, so we set up and had a nice meal, including freshly made guacamole by Sherry. Afterward John and Nancy went inside and bought four bottles of wine for us. We then hopped back on our bikes, with John taking over the driving, and headed out. After getting back on the road after leaving the winery, we passed a big old animal skeleton on the side of the road--it looked bigger than a deer to me--as we headed southward on Dutcher Creek Road. After a little while we made a left turn onto Dry Creek Road, which then took us to Yoakim Bridge Road (and not surprisingly over a bridge), followed by a left turn onto West Dry Creek Road. We were on this road for quite a long time. It was a narrow road, with a little more traffic than we would have liked, but not a ton. We passed many more wineries and vineyards, winding our way along the rolling little hills. We stopped now and again for short breaks and adjustments, and I also made a stop or two to photo a flower or a field.

After a long time, we finally reached a right turn onto Westside Road. Chad had gone ahead to stretch his legs a bit and was waiting for us there. We made the right turn and continued along this road, which was very similar to the last stretch. We rode until almost 17:00, at which point we reached another intersection near a bridge across the river, and John was there with the RV waiting. We were hoping to go for a dip in the river, and Sherry and I went through an opening for pedestrians in a fence that was limiting motor vehicle access to the river. We rode down a short path and found a big, slow-moving river with very dense flora on the banks. It wasn't very good for swimming, so we returned to the RV with the news. John and Chad had decided to go for a long, fast ride together back to the KOA, which we decided to stay at again tonight.

I drove the RV from there with everyone else back through Healdsburg and up along Alexander Valley Road. Where that road crossed the river we found a very nice place to swim, and so we did, except for Nancy and Sarah, who relaxed and played on the shore. We the continued on to the KOA, got a new site, and got settled. Sherry started cooking up a storm right away, with Eva's help--it was a Thai curry. I wandered around a bit, checking out the mini golf course and other amenities. John and Chad cruised in at about 20:25, having ridden another 49 miles on top of the 41 we'd done earlier! They went for a swim, and Sherry and I took a short walk to investigate mini golf further, then we all convened at the RV for our tasty dinner, which we ate in the dark at the picnic table in the cool evening air. We also had some of our wine with the meal. Afterward we played Trivial Pursuit for a little while, then all retired around 23:00.

Friday, June 4

I slept in a while--till about 09:00--and had a lazy morning. Sherry and I walked over to the arcade and played a couple of pinball games, then each took a shower. We returned to the RV and had some breakfast while Chad and Eva looked at a map to figure out what we'd do today. We finally got everything together and hit the road at around 11:30. We stopped for a break and bought some snacks at a little convenience store, but mostly just kept moving for about 2.5 hours or so, eating lunch in the RV while Chad drove. We got back to the San Francisco area, and after fighting through a little bit of traffic and taking one break at a little shop where some of us had some ice cream sandwiches, we drove a brief way along a crowded coastal road, ending up at the tiny town of Princeton on the Sea, where we parked and went for a walk along the coast at a place called Pillar Point.

There were big cliffs behind the sandy shore, and there was some interesting wildlife to observe--we saw a rabbit, several kinds of birds, lizards, and crabs. There were also interesting water-worn rock formations, seaweed, and other curiosities. After walking around a while, we returned to the RV, then continued on a walk up to the top of the bluffs, which afforded excellent views down to the shore. After that short walk, which John and Nancy got a late start on since they had to feed Sarah, we returned to the RV, stopping to try to catch some birds on camera along the way. We hit the road again, heading for Chad's place in San Mateo. We arrived there at 17:00, about half an hour later, and concluded (except for lots of cleaning, unpacking, and repacking) our fantastic journey through northern California.

John and I headed up to Middlebury Gap from Hanover on Friday night and dropped my car off near the Burnt Hill Trailhead at around 18:00. We couldn't find the trailhead exactly in the dark, but we knew we were close. We then drove through East Middlebury, Bristol, and then South Lincoln as the roads got more and more remote, and finally made it to the trailhead for the Emily Proctor Trail (and the Cooley Glen Trail). We got our stuff together as some snow floated gently down in the chilly air. We were actually parked in a little snowmobile parking area, and had to hike a short distance down unplowed Forest Road 201 to the actual trailhead. We started out on showshoes on FR201 at about 19:00, heading up the untouched trail. It didn't take long to get to the beginning of the trail, and not long after that we reached a register where John signed us in. It was hard to tell when anyone had been in before us as a ranger had recently put in new, blank sign-in sheets. We then continued on from there in the dark with our headlamps. Mine had problems, and I replaced the batteries, but soon it was having problems again, dimming down almost to nothing. We concluded that my rechargeable batteries may have been particularly prone to poor performance in the cold. Luckily, John had a spare battery that we swapped in and I had no problems from that point on.

We slowly made our way along the Emily Proctor Trail, which was gradually gaining elevation. There were animal tracks in the snow here and there, but almost all of them were covered by up to a few inches of fresh snow from that had come down in the past 24 hours or so. At one point, as I was breaking trail, I noticed two marks where the snow had been recently disturbed just ahead of me on the trail. They were isolated, and so I realized that they weren't animal tracks. I figured they were made by clumps of snow falling off of a tree above, and promptly ignored them. That is, I ignored them until I was just stepping on top of one of them, at which point I was shocked when a grouse flew out from under the snow, flapping its wings madly and making such a huge racket that even though I saw it right away and realized what it was, I couldn't stop myself from letting out a holler of surprise. The grouse was almost directly underneath my snowshoe when it finally decided to take off, and as I tried to stop to avoid it, I thrust my hiking poles out ahead of me and leaned on them. In a moment the bird was gone, and John and I laughed in amazement at what had just happened. I looked back down at the snow where I had just stopped, and saw my own snowshoe tracks covering the exact spot where the grouse had been. Just a few inches in front of that were two distinct sets of markings left by the grouse's flapping wings. That's right, there were wing marks in the snow! I'd never seen anything quite like that before. And finally, perhaps another foot in front of those were the two pole marks where I'd leaned forward. I still can't believe how close I was to stepping on that grouse!

From that point we continued along, trying to watch for blue trail blazes to make sure we were going the right way. However, they were few and far between, and worse yet, they hadn't been repainted in so long that most of them had been reduced to mere paint flecks, visible only within about a few feet by someone with a headlamp after dark. We were on old logging roads, so I guess in summer the trail is pretty obvious. But in winter without other tracks it's always nice to have confirmation. We were doing well for a while, but at one point reached a sizeable stream crossing and lost it totally. The stream was mostly frozen, so we searched up and down it and all around, but found no sign of the continuing trail. After several minutes, I finally started looking around up on one of the banks and finally found it; I think it had been rerouted around the stream at some point; this short section of the trail was clearly newly blazed, and was the only well-blazed section on the whole trail it would turn out. I called to John, who was still following the stream. Suddenly, I heard a loud thud--the sound of a big chunk of ice collapsing into water--followed by a yelp from John. I was immediately worried, because it wasn't clear how deep the stream was and icy water should never be taken lightly in winter. After a moment, I called out again and John responded that he was OK. After he cut through the woods and found me, he said that the water was only inches deep, but deep enough that he was surprised that he hadn't gotten wet. I considered us lucky, and we continued on.