UNKNOWN POND & THE HORN: 11/18/09

What a glorious stretch of November weather! John Compton and I headed north to the Mill Brook Road trailhead in Stark, knowing we wanted to get a big view with today's clear, sunny skies. The only person we saw on the 4.5 mile drive up the gravel road was a deer hunter heading into a clearcut.

At the parking spot (surely one of the loneliest trailheads in the Whites) we opted for a trail hike to Unknown Pond and The Horn over a bushwhack up an eastern spur to the Pilot Ridge and on to the summit of Hutchins Mountain. Back in late fall of 1990, when I whacked with several friends across the four main Pilot peaks from Lost Nation, the descent down the west side of Hutchins proved to be the most difficult going of the day and took longer than expected. With November's limited daylight it seemed a better bet to choose the known trek over a long bushwhack route we hadn't used before.

After some mucky footing at the start, the walking on the Unknown Pond Trail was pleasant through open hardwoods.



After a mile or so we began the steadier climb up through an extensive birch forest.



At the top of the climb we continued a short distance ahead on the Kilkenny Ridge Trail to the side path leading down to the classic view of The Horn rising above Unknown Pond. A thin skim of ice gave the vista a different look.


We didn't linger too long at the pond, so we would have more time atop The Horn, one of the great spots in the Whites. We soon headed out on the southbound Kilkenny Ridge Trail.


The trail descends to a wet sag before beginning the long, meandering climb of The Horn.



We came upon some recent axe work.



The Kilkenny Ridge Trail is a very pleasant ramble with a remote feeling. Trail conditions were dry and excellent.




As it slabs around the side of The Horn, the trail gets fairly rocky - a Kilkenny version of the notorious Link, but about one-tenth as difficult.



The spur trail to The Horn -- only 0.3 mile to the views!


Just below the top there are a couple of little ledge scrambles.


Then you have to find a way up the imposing summit ledge. Only by getting up there can you enjoy the full range of views from the watchtower of the Kilkenny.


It's a pretty challenging little scramble. I usually approach it via a crack on the east side.



The summit ledge, which AMC explorer William H. Peek described in 1885 as "a rock as large as a goodly, hospitable dining-table." The Bulge rises nearby, with Vermont horizons beyond.



The summit benchmark, placed in 1965.



With the 90-plus mile visibility, the cameras saw plenty of action.




The shadowy view south to South Terrace, North and South Weeks, Waumbek and the Presidentials.


Southeast to the Moriahs and Carters beyond the Crescent Range.

Baldpate, Old Speck and the northern Mahoosucs, beyond the southern knobs of Unknown Pond Ridge.


North to the Percys and the Nash Stream mountains. The Devil's Slide is seen in shadow at center right.

My favorite Horn vista is northwest to the trailless Pilots, with their multiple peaks and down-flowing ridgelines. When I once made a solo summer whack to a small cliff and talus slope on the east flank of the Pilots (towards the right end in this photo), the feeling of remoteness was amazing - even though I ran into two local guys fishing the West Branch of Mill Brook down in the valley, and even though the talus was only two miles from the end of the road.

As I was sitting on the talus, gazing at a unique view of Unknown Pond Ridge, The Bulge and The Horn rising above the upper bowls of the Mill Brook valley, I heard a stealthy step above me, at the top of the slope. Whatever was up there kicked a small loose rock down. When I turned around and looked up - nothing. I must admit it sent a bit of a chill down my spine when I thought of the frequent reports of mountain lion sightings in the Lancaster/Kilkenny area. It's pretty wild out there.


A zoom on Hutchins, with inviting south-facing ledges below its summit.


The Bulge and the bulky Mt. Cabot loom close at hand, tough to see with the low November sun.



The Rangeley area mountains in Maine were clearly visible. Most prominent were the four sharp peaks of the Bigelows, seen to the right of the scraggly spruce.


One of our objectives was to find a clear view down to the highland ponds at the base of The Horn. After exploring along the densely grown ridgecrest, we were successful. Unknown Pond is on the left, tiny Bishop's Pond is on the right.

A closeup of Unknown Pond and its neighboring cliff.


Bishop's Pond, where John and I had a late, chilly lunch in the sun two weeks earlier. In the 1970s, before the Kilkenny Ridge Trail was built, the AMC Guide recommended this pond as a key to a bushwhack ascent of The Horn from the Unknown Pond Trail, "swinging L higher up to avoid the cliffs." I did that route in the summer of 1990, wading through waist-high ferns in the birches, then scrambling up the steep, rough upper part of the SE ridge.


Rogers Ledge (L) and Square Mountain (R), two interesting smaller peaks in the northern Kilkenny. The Kilkenny Ridge Trail passes over Rogers Ledge, where the southward view is superb, while Square, with its huge cliff face, is a bushwhack (which should be avoided during peregrine falcon nesting season, April 1-August 1).


This view shows the breadth of the birch-clad basin of Unknown Pond Brook.

The Horn casts a mighty shadow on the land.

Back to the summit ledge, it's 2:30 and time to head out.


A last look at the Pilots, with late afternoon shadows slipping into the ravines.



Evening sunlight on the shore of Unknown Pond.


A steady pace back down through the birches got us back to the car just as it was getting dark. We had gotten a full measure of satisfaction from our journey to The Horn.

THE KETTLES & THE SCAUR: 11/11/09

****Thank you, vets, for your service.***

Carol and I had Veteran's Day off together, and decided to spend a leisurely afternoon on one of our favorite short hikes: The Kettles and The Scaur in Waterville Valley. This four-mile round trip has pleasant, uncrowded trails, fine woods and a wide south-facing view from a rocky nubble, all with only 600 ft. of climbing. As you approach the Depot Camp clearing near the start of the Livermore Trail, The Scaur is in sight ahead.




The Livermore Trail is always a relaxing stroll.


At 0.9 mile, we turned left on the Kettles Path, which was originally opened about 1890 by Arthur Goodrich, father of famed trailbuilder and Waterville historian Nathaniel Goodrich.


The first part is a gentle meander through mixed woods.


Two short, steep pitches lead to the three Kettles - bowl-shaped depressions left in the woods when stranded ice chunks melted at the end of the last Ice Age. These are the same formations that are now the hundreds of kettle ponds on Cape Cod.


Approaching the junction with the Scaur Trail through nice hardwood forest, we passed this interesting rock.


Near the trail is this large old white ash.


At the junction we turned right for the short but steep climb up The Scaur.


The trail circles around the backside of the nubble, then shoots up through conifer woods.


At the top you scramble through a ledgy slot before emerging at the outlook.


The Scaur is a great place to hang out in the warm sun - even in November!


To the east are Middle and South Tripyramid, with West Sleeper peering out on the right, above the Slide Brook valley.
Close-up of the Trips.


You get an intriguing look into the remote Lost Pass area.

Southward there's an impressive spread of Sandwich Dome, with Jennings Peak prominent on the right.

Tecumseh, its ski slopes still bare due to recent warm weather, is to the SW.


By poking carefully around you can get a view towards Thornton Gap, the pass between Tecumseh and Osceola, home of Tripoli Road.


Mt. Osceola looms impressively to the NW.


A window view of the unusual Painted Cliff on East Osceola.


Caught in a November snooze!


On the way down we made a short side trip on an unmarked road and path to Swazeytown, site of an early Waterville homestead and later the site of a dam and pond used for river-drives in the early 1900s. Part of the old dam can be seen underwater.


A semi-bushwhack around the corner revealed a hidden beaver pond that is actually close to Livermore Trail, but separated by a very steep slope. There's alot to explore in the Waterville Valley.

WILD RIVER: 11/10/09

After two years away from the beautiful Wild River Valley, long one of my favorite White Mountain haunts, I was anxious for a visit. John Compton and I agreed to undertake a bushwhack to a ledge on a nameless Wild River ridge that I had visited back in 1996. I knew this spot had a phenomenal view of the Carter-Moriah Range.

Adding much interest to the planned trek was the October publication of a fascinating new history of the Wild River Valley. Written by Maine environmental writer and naturalist Dean Bennett, Nature and Renewal: Wild River Valley & Beyond tells the story of the valley's decimation by logging in the 1890s and fire in 1903, then its reforestation and eventual designation as the newest Wilderness area in the White Mountains in 2006.


Mentioned in this book are two features of this expansive valley - one natural and one historic - that happened to be near our bushwhack route. The first was a giant hemlock that survived the logging and fire, the second was a remnant piece of logging railroad, complete with rusting rails and rotting ties, that lies mostly forgotten in a brookbed.

We parked at the end of the 5 1/2 mile Wild River Road, a quiet and lonely place in November. No hikers' cars were there; the only people around were two campers in a campground lean-to. We set off on the Basin Trail, and soon undertook what proved to be a futile search for a spur line of the Wild River logging railroad (1890-1903). The abandoned piece of track was reported to be on a spur that extended a short distance into the Blue Brook valley, but we couldn't find a definitive railroad grade in the area we were searching.

We had better luck finding the giant old hemlock, whose survival over several centuries is a central theme in Dean Bennett's Wild River book. It is located off-trail not too far from the Basin Trail.



Bennett determined that this tree has a diameter of 3 1/2 feet at breast height, and that it could be as much as 300 years old. It was not discovered until 1999, when a Forest Service forester was inventorying timber in the area.



Nearby was another hemlock that was almost as impressive. These ancient trees are now protected within the Wilderness area.


After admiring these forest giants, we set off on the bushwhack to the view ledge. Along the way we found this pretty gorge and cascade on a tributary of Blue Brook.


Farther upstream the brook's ledges were lushly carpeted in moss.


The whack was mostly through hardwood forest, generally good going but with plenty of beech saplings (sons-of-beeches, we call them, when they slap you in the face).



The final approach was steep and thick through spruces. When we got to the ledge, we saw that the day's promised sun was not about to materialize. However, the cloud deck was very high, allowing for fine views of the Carter-Moriah Range to the west across the broad expanse of the Wild River Valley. The whole sweep of the ridge was revealed here - from Carter Dome's Rainbow Ridge on the south end to Howe Peak, east of Shelburne Moriah, on the north end. In this photo all of the high Carters are seen.


A zoom on Rainbow Ridge, Carter Dome and Mt. Hight, which has a particularly sharp aspect from this angle.

The east side of the Carter Range is wild, remote and rugged country, notable for its l-o-n-g valleys and ridges. This view looks into the trailless four-mile-long valley of Cypress Brook, which has two partly-formed glacial cirques at its head, one on either side of South Carter.



The three Moriahs (L to R): Mt. Moriah, with its long, ledgy SE ridge; Middle Moriah; and rocky, lumpy Shelburne Moriah.


From the ledge you look straight into the valley of Moriah Brook, which is traversed by one of the most attractive trails in the Whites. The stripes of old logging roads, lined with light-colored aspen, are evidence of a selective timber harvest performed in the early 1950s by the Nadeau Co. of Berlin.


John, bedecked in his best blaze orange, takes a last look at the view after our 1 1/2 hour sojourn.


We whacked back down to the Wild River, where shoreside rocks opened a view upstream to Middle Carter.


The Wild River rivals the East Branch of the Pemigewasset, in the Pemigewasset Wilderness, as a premier backcountry river. The Wild River Wilderness itself is sort of an eastern version of the Pemi, on a smaller scale.


We made a short side trip to check out the suspension footbridge over the river at the start of the Moriah Brook Trail. (This bridge is just outside the Wilderness boundary.)


With plenty of daylight left, we headed back into the leafless woods in search of the old railroad track. After some searching, we found it, though not quite where we expected it to be. As noted in the book (a picture of this is on the cover), the section was about 40 feet long and resting in a brookbed.



John takes a closer look at this neat piece of White Mountain logging history.


Back at the Wild River Campground, we saw that the Blue Brook Shelter, which had been dismantled and removed from its site up on the Black Angel Trail, has been reassembled down here and will be open for use by car campers at the campground.



We enjoyed a marvelous and leisurely day exploring one small area of the Wild River Valley. If the snow holds off and the road stays open, perhaps one more trip there will be in the cards for this year.