Monadnock

One of my goals is to be the kind of guy who would get up before sunrise on a weekend and go hit the outdoors.

So I got up around quarter to six, went to Mt. Monadnock (having decided to hike it today). I brought around 3 quarts of water, a pound or two of trail mix, and a monster ham sammich. These were good estimates, as it turns out. I also brought snowshoes and poles, in case there was still heavy snow up there.

On advice of the ranger (asked specifically about the snowshoes), I left them at the car. As it turns out, yes, the snow was knee-deep in places (despite having been pretty packed down by more hikers than I thought would be out), but it'd have been silly to put the snowshoes on for each of those occasions. It was a mistake not to bring the poles, though, as an additional two points of contact would have been very helpful when things got slippery (i.e. almost always).

I took a right on Cascade Link to get to the Red Dot Trail (correctly figuring that a longer path would be more of a gentle slope and a bit nicer). At this point, it was about 7:30am, and there were all sorts of conifers. It's the middle of spring melt, so there were at least two temporarly creeks to ford, and plenty of mud. I highly reccomend this route up, despite not having anything to compare it to. By the time I hit the REAL steep stuff, trying to join back up with White Dot trail, I was very fatigued. Interestingly, it was similar to how running is. A portion of the beginning feels awful, and you don't think you can go on. At some point, though, a switch flips and your body stops complaining about all the injustices you're inflicting on it, and you get up and go.


Even after I "broke through" I had to stop many times to let my heart-rate fall some. I was reminded of Krakauer's book Into Thin Air, about how at Everest, you have to take one step and a time, lean on your ice axe and take a couple ragged breaths.

It was at this point that I was passed by a family of three, with the kid being 15 or so, and the folks in their late forties. Ouch. Oh well, this is the first real hike since I was 15, so I'm okay with it. That and they had poles.

I was climbing into a cloud, it seemed. By the time I hit the treeline, the fog and the wind were really picking up. I put on a windbreaker (thanks, Dad!), and put up the hood. It was amazing. Through breaks in the fog, you could see how high up you were, and you had this MASSIVE bare rock (no ice, no snow, no plants, nothing) nub left to climb.

I was down by about 11am.

I took the white dot trail back down, and nearly hurt myself many times. I had thought "Take the slow way up to conserve energy, then get down directly." That was a mistake. It may be easier going, but as fatigue sets in, you lose agility. I had to constantly remind myself to land with bent knees, and I made more mistakes here than anywhere. Also, white dot trail is three things:

A) Crowded
B) Muddy
C) Steep

Bad combo.

At one point I took a face first spill, clonked my left knee, and nearly broke my right ring finger. It got caught under a rock or something as I fell, not quite wedged. It felt all tingly for a second. I wear a ring on that finger, and that could have been terrible. If it HAD broke, I would have had to try to wrench the ring off over the broken bone, as I was a mile or so out, and way far away from a hospital. The ring would have cut off my circulation otherwise, and I could have lost the finger. The lesson here is: take it easy, and take gentle routes each way.

I also learned today that workboots and hiking boots, although similar, are not freely interchangeable. There were plenty of times I didn't have the traction necessary to make moves comfortably, and nearly ate it at as a result. These boots (Cats) have served me well for many years, but the soles are apparently shot to hell, and the waterproofing uh... should have done it last night . Also, I feel like the ankle support is wrong somehow. They grab above the ankle very tightly, but I'm free to roll it beneath. Need new boots.

I am dying to hike some of these other trails, and once things thaw enough, find some of the less clearly marked footpaths. I haven't even TOUCHED the depths available to me, and it's $4 for a day pass, and half an hour away. I probably won't do the white dot trail again, though.