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ACTIVITIES
Nimblewill Nomad:
IAT Thru-Hiker
Lake of the Clouds, New Hampshire
Week 9/3
Monday, August 7, 2000
Trail day: 76/27
Trail mile: 1038/334
Location: Lakes of the Clouds Hut
Down at the restaurant this morning I find the place packed and it isn't even 7:00 A.M. I go for a light start, coffee and toast as I have the climb from Pinkham Notch, over Mt. Washington and into Lakes of the Clouds ahead of me. Somehow Mary Ann manages to break away from her busy duties in the kitchen to shuttle me to the trail. Back at the Notch and after saying goodbye to another great new friend, Mary Ann of Hiker's Paradise, I'm on the trail again, heading ever south at 8:00 A.M.
The climb worth the view
The climb ahead of me today is one of the most difficult, leading ever up through the rocks and the roots. I try not to look, not to see the seemingly never-ending jumble and maze as the white blazes climb toward the sky...and I labor and climb with them. I've got my wind and my legs, as good as I'll have them ever again at my age and I grind on, up —up —up, without a break for the better part of an hour. Finally, and with a feeling of accomplishment I successfully gain the ridge and head toward Mt. Madison.
The rain, which came in during the night, the mush pervading all, persists today. As I climb, and as I near Madison Springs Hut, the rain not only begins again but intensifies and with it comes a driving wind, turning the day cold, harsh and most unfriendly. I am greatly relieved to reach the hut and as I enter I receive a warm welcome from the Crew. The storm continues, the rain pelting the hut windows and I feel such joy in the simple pleasure derived from the warmth and comfort of this cozy little place in the shroud.
After drying myself and getting my core temperature back up with a couple cups of piping hot coffee I head over to the bookcase. Here, one of the books entitled Joe Dodge catches my eye.
I am soon totally submerged in the history of the Presidential Range, the Hut System, and the life and humor that was Joe Dodge. This delightful book, written by William Lowell Putnam describes Joe's life as he lived it in the White Mountains and as I read on, I become totally intrigued with the wit, humor and boundless energy of this man. "Joe Dodge was a doer, he built the AMC Hut System: the chain of nine huts stretching by mountain trail almost sixty miles across the upper waist of New Hampshire." "All but one are located on mountain trails. Each provides food, shelter, and sleeping quarters for hikes at modest fees. Staffed by young men (and more recently women also) who clean, cook and pack supplies from road-head depots...also dispensing mountain wisdom and humor...these huts develop character. Pride, competence, self-reliance, and humor —these are the characteristics evident in hut crews..." I'm sure Joe would be pleased to know this tradition of pride, self-reliance and humor is alive and well today...I've just had a grand dose of it!
Within the hour the rain diminishes and I steel myself to the task of climbing on over Mt. Washington...and quite a task it turns out to be. The rain and wind returns, making the rocks and boulders incredibly slippery and treacherous. I am blown from side to side as I stumble from cairn to cairn. I finally gain the summit in a howling gale, the rain-laden clouds driving through. The summit is shut down. I heard the last Cog Railway engine rattling and banging down the mountain while still in my ascent an hour ago. I wondered then how anyone could muster the courage to climb aboard one of those ridiculous looking contraptions. What Joe Dodge had to say about the Cog Railway is both humorous and sobering.
"Other than that business with Peppersass (one of the old engines that got away and blew up), the only problem I ever heard about on that railroad was with a baggage car. They used to take a little car on behind the engine, first train of the day, to take baggage and supplies up to the summit. During the day the crew would jack it up and set it off to one side of the tracks at the level area behind the Summit House. One day the crew uncoupled it then went for lunch . . . a little gust of wind came up while they were inside and started the damn thing rolling. Some lad came running in to tell the crew what had happened, but it was too late. The damned rattler was almost out of sight. So one of them called the guy at the Halfway Tank to tell him he better watch out for a loose car. "Hell," he said, "that goddam thing went by here five minutes ago!"
Scenes from nature
As soon as I'm off the summit and descending toward Lakes of the Clouds Hut, the wind relents, the sun breaks through and I'm offered fast-shuttered snippets of the hut and the mountains below. As usual, the hut is packed, with folks that have made their reservations months ago, guests that are going to be here no matter what, and with the swelling wave of northbounders. I meet up with Spider here again and we wait to see how the evening plays out. After the paying guests are fed we are invited into the kitchen to help ourselves to the food, and plenty there is to go around! When the dining room is cleared and the gaslights are nearly all extinguished we are permitted to lay our bedrolls out for the night right on the dining room tables. Our tummies are full; we are warm and comfortable. Sleep is a minor process!
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