I have traveled! Thus, you get a new travel blog entry, this time with some stunning photos taken with my iPhone.

Now I didn't go far or spend a long time, but on this trip I really felt like I was far from home - practically on another planet. I joined my friend Don on a late fall camping trip, which turned out to be a winter camping trip. It was my first winter backpacking experience and in fact, my first backpacking trip of any kind.

Don warned me to expect some snow (as much as three inches, he guessed) at the top of our planned destination, Mount Bond. The plan was to hike in seven miles to the campsite, drop our packs, then jog up Bond (another mile and a half) and back before nightfall. Then in the morning, we would hit Bondcliff, about the same distance away, come back to get our stuff, and hike the seven miles back out.

This all sounded like a pretty reasonable plan to me. After all, I just ran a half marathon, so walking ten miles in a day didn't sound like a big problem. I was a little worried about the weather. What if there was snow? I don't own a pair of hiking boots, so I was planning on doing the trip in my low-cut hiking shoes. Also, I didn't have a lot of great clothing to wear if it got cold. But this was all just contingency planning - I was worried about a freak storm blowing up or something. From Don's description of the weather I knew I wouldn't have any serious problems. After a quick trip to REI, I had a new fleece sweater and pants, and a pair of gaiters to keep any stray snow out of my shoes. A friend at work happened to have some poles in his car, which he loaned me. I was ready.

On the way up, I pointed to a mountain. "Looks like snow up there," I said, but Don was skeptical. "No, that's just light-colored rock," he corrected. We kept driving. "That sure is an ugly-looking cloud". "Yeah, but it looks like it'll be clear over the mountain," Don said, and five minutes later turned on the windshield wipers. The snow started piling up deeper and deeper at the side of the road; first just a dusting but soon enough two, then three inches. Finally we arrived at the access road:

Hm. It certainly looked snowier than we expected. We got about a quarter mile up the access road before the car got stuck and I had to jump out and push us out of a pile of snow. These were not exactly the dry fall conditions I'd been expecting. Don didn't like it either, so after a little discussion, we decided to hike up a different trail, to Mount Garfield. It's a much shorter trail - only five miles to the camp site, which is near the summit.

We started suiting up and I immediately noticed that Don was equipped with ice climbing boots (and crampons), waterproof gaiters that went up to his knee, and at least three pairs of gloves, including one gigantic pair with wind-proof, waterproof mitten around a thick fleece glove. I had my fingerless gloves and a pair of cycling gloves, because I'd worn my ski gloves as part of my Halloween costume and left them someplace. I was starting to feel ill-prepared for this trip.

Up we went. The gigantic backpack I'd borrowed from Don had about twenty-five pounds of gear in it, at least a third of which was the enormous sleeping bag I had also borrowed from Don. At the last minute, he decided I'd better take the -20 degree bag rather than the 25 degree bag, which would have been much lighter, and not taken up half the space in my bag. I would be glad to have the big bag later, though.

The trail meandered gently upward through a snow-laden pine forest. The snow had been packed down pretty well by earlier travelers, so the going wasn't that tough. The swaying weight of the bag caused some pain in my hips as they tried to compensate, but for the most part I was comfortable. The sun was trying to burn through the clouds, and a very light snow was falling. We warmed up quickly.

Also ascending were a group of five hikers, laden down with an enormous amount of luggage. Each of them was carrying a bag easily twice the size of mine, which was somewhat larger than the bag you can see Don carrying in the picture. We had spoken with them at the bottom and they'd told us that somehow, despite their huge packs, they were not carrying tents. Apparently they were counting on there being room in the shelter.

We continued upward. We got to a scary moment about an hour in when we had to cross a small stream. My shoes claim to be waterproof but they're not tall enough to let me walk through more than perhaps two inches of water at the most. With a lot of careful stepping, I managed to find enough rocks above or just under the surface to make it across with my feet dry. After that, the trail became steeper. Soon we had stripped off a layer or two and were hiking in just our shirts.

The steep part of the hike was taxing. The trail switched between packed snow and a small stream bed. I was wearing Yak Trax traction devices on my shoes to try to avoid slipping on ice, but they were more a hindrance than a help, since they kept slipping off my shoe and having to be reset. I can't really recommend them for hiking, although they are probably great for shoveling driveways.

After perhaps three hours, we started to feel like we were getting close. We could see more sky through the trees all the time, and the branches were looking less snowed-on and more iced over. The trail was getting harder, though. The snow depth increased to perhaps six inches, and I noticed a substantial amount of ice building up on my pants legs (I wore them outside my gaiters because the gaiters weren't tell enough to keep the snow out).

Kicking through that snow, with uncertain footing and the pack weighing me down, was exhausting. We started taking thirty second breaks every five minutes or so, just to catch our breath. It was getting colder, too. With just a long undershirt and my long-sleeved running shirt on, I was starting to feel pretty chilly. We expected to see the shelter around every bend, but it remained stubbornly out of view.

Finally, a sign! It told us the shelter was to our left, where an unbroken, snow-covered trail dropped off steeply. We took a break here and, when we heard the five hikers catching up with us, decided to let them blaze the trail. Only four of them showed up - it turned out one guy had decided he couldn't make it and had taken their tent (apparently they had one, at least) and camped out on the hillside. The remaining four guys headed down ahead of us to the hut. After letting them get some distance, we followed down the treacherous trail.

I had been appreciative of my friend Gordon's poles on the way up, where they helped me balance with the unwieldy pack on my shoulders. But now they kept me from going down the trail on my butt. It was just far too steep and slippery to make it without being able to stabilize yourself with the poles. I didn't plan on taking any, but now I think they may have saved my life!

A sign at another turn-off promised, again, that the shelter was near. On the way there we found an outlook point and I snapped a photo of the only view we got on the trip.
The hut was nearby (why didn't I snap a photo?). It was designed to sleep twelve people lying side by side, so it was perhaps 8'x40'. One wall was half open, making an entryway. The four hikers nailed up a tarpaulin over this entrance, and soon enough the interior of the hut warmed up to a cozy 35 degrees. It was 2:30 in the afternoon, so we had a lot of time to kill.

It turned out what the four guys had in their huge packs was food. They'd brought steak tips, a pork loin, sausage with pepper and onions, bread, cheese, pepperoni, home-made beef jerky, and french toast sticks for breakfast. Not to mention a bottle of rum, a bottle of Patron tequila, and a case of Bud Light. Don and I had a freeze-dried pasta pouch and several Powerbars each, along with two liters of water and a bottle of Gatorade. The food-laden hikers didn't want to carry anything more down with them than they had to, so they were happy to supply us with leftovers. Tasty stuff!

Two more hikers showed up, and we all started settling in. Time passes slowly in a dark hut with nothing much to do, and at one point, rather incongruously, there were three video iPods going simultaneously. I watched an episode of Heroes, after which I was pretty tired, so I bundled myself into my bag (with my boots and some other clothes I wanted to be warm the next morning) and got to sleep. The bag was quite warm, but the floor was hard and there was a lot of noise, so I didn't get a lot of sleep. Don and I got out first in the morning, leaving at a surprisingly late 7:30. Our plan: head back to the trail juncture, drop our packs and reach the summit before heading back down.

The path to the trail juncture was incredibly difficult. Icy rocks lay under six inches of snow, and after the hike the previous day, I was exhausted. Somehow I had managed not to eat any breakfast. Still, it was a pretty short trip, and when we got back to the main trail I gulped down half a Powerbar. We left our packs in the snow and headed up. Without the weight of the bags, the trail was much easier to navigate. Aside from occasional tall rocks that had me worried about keeping my footing, there were no problems. We finally reached the summit, but an early morning haze obscured our view. I put up my hood to keep out the light but frigid breeze, ate the other half of my Powerbar, and basked in a mild but still enjoyable feeling of accomplishment. Then we headed carefully back down the trail, picking our way down through the icy rocks with our poles.

After we picked up our packs, the trip down the mountain went incredibly fast. The snow-covered incline which had been so exhausting on the way up was soft and forgiving on the way down. We were nearly running in some places. The hike up had taken us about four hours, but we made it back down in two. When I saw the stream crossing, I merrily tromped through it, unconcerned about soaking my right foot because I knew we were only fifteen minutes from the car. I was back in my house by two thirty, safe, warm and cozy again in warm, snowless Boston after my first winter backpacking experience.

- posted by Joachim @ 8:14 AM