Friday, November 8, 2024

Liberty-Haystack Slide: 11/7/24

November is a fine time for bushwhacking in the leafless woods. After wandering into Walker Ravine under Mount Lafayette the week before, I decided to re-visit another secluded nook of the Franconia Range on a chilly, cloudy day - the ravine on the western slopes between Little Haystack Mountain and Mount Liberty. My objective was a raw, gravelly slide that presumably was triggered by a big rainstorm in October, 1995. This would be my fourth visit to this slide, perhaps a dubious record of some sort.

I approached the bushwhack along the lower section of Falling Waters Trail, passing by this cascade on Walker Brook.



After crossing Dry Brook on the trail, I headed up into the woods on a southeasterly course.



A random boulder in the forest.



A high plateau is home to some old, leaning sugar maples.



This gnarled yellow birch has seen many hard winters.



Higher up, I entered the land of the conifers, with a sprinkling of birch.



This is one of the more unusual tree arrangements I've seen in my ramblings.



I passed through mostly open woods as I ascended the flank of the ridge that parallels the ravine's brook to the north.



Farther up, a glimpse of the slide through the trees.



The going a looked a little ugly here. Time to back up and head farther up the slope.



Better woods up here.



I dropped steeply down to the brook at a lower point than on previous trips, as I wanted to check out the runout track of the slide.

 


As shown on satellite photos, the slide scoured out the brookbed for nearly half a mile downstream. I started making my way up the track, but most of the rocks were super-slick, making for very slow going.


 

I decided to head back into the woods, crossing over this boulder train known as a debris flow levee, deposited by the slide along the edge of the track. (Debris flow is a geologic term for the type of landslide prevalent in the White Mountains.)



 

The footing was a little gnarly in here, but faster than going up the rocky slide track.



I pushed through this thicket and re-emerged on the track near the base of the slide proper.



Stunted spruce and fir are taking over a dry branch of the track.




Final approach to the base of the slide.



The 1995 slide is a two-pronged affair. From a wide upper section, two swaths run down on either side of a strip of trees. On previous visits I had ascended the north prong. Today I would head up the south prong, which diverges to the right in this photo.



One of the peculiarities of this slide is an abundance of brightly tinted red rocks. This is a result not of lichen growth, as it might seem, but of a mineral known as iron oxide in the rocks.



Side gouging on the southern prong.


 

Approaching the wide upper section of the slide.



Steep and rubbly, with somewhat sketchy footing.



A spine of gravel and loose rock runs down the middle, with a spur of Little Haystack behind.


 

The south side of the main slide section is very steep, with a slope angle approaching 35 degrees.



The upper part of the slide offers a wonderful wide-screen view of the Kinsmans, but the clouds that had lent a gloomy gray look to the day were still hanging tough in the early afternoon. But they were slowly lifting, and the sun was starting to poke through.


 

A solitary white pine is making a living at the top of the most open part of the slide, at 3400 ft. Several other white pines were noted at the base of the slide.


The upper end of the slide is narrow, steep, and loose, topping out at 3475 ft.



More red rocks here.



After an hour's sojourn, the Kinsmans are revealed at last! The Cannon Balls are to the right.




Descending the spine in increasing sunshine.



Looking back up.


 

Spur of Little Haystack leading up to the main ridge, south of the Little Haystack summit.



Heading down the gravelly north prong of the slide.



More views of the Kinsmans.


After 29 years, plant life has yet to gain a foothold on much of the slide.



It must have been quite a sight - and sound - when this slide came roaring down in that October 1995 rainstorm.


 

A few spots of foliage remain on a single tamarack (larch) that took root near the bottom of the slide.




Parting shot.


 

Back up a steep slope to exit the slide track.




It was a pleasure to descend through the open woods in late afternoon sun. Made it out just before dark.



 

Friday, November 1, 2024

Walker Ravine: 10/31/24


The day was a Halloween treat: wall to wall sun and temperatures soaring into the 70s. At this time of year, a southwestern exposure provides the most sunshine. A combination of a partial hike up the Old Bridle Path to check out this year's trail improvements, and a bushwhack up into the north branch of Walker Ravine to an open slide patch, would provide plenty of "second summer" brightness.

This is the third year of the Franconia Ridge Loop Restoration Project, intended to restore, reconstruct and in some places relocate the badly eroded trails that make up the massively popular loop over Franconia Ridge: Old Bridle Path, Greenleaf Trail, Franconia Ridge Trail and Falling Waters Trail. Some $1.1 million in funding has been provided for this project from the federal government through Senator Jeanne Shaheen. Additional contributions have come from the World Trails Network, Appalachian Mountain Club, and a major private donor, for a total of $1.8 million. 


 

The first 0.2 mile of Old Bridle Path has been completely relocated, and hikers quickly get to see the quality of work being done.

The work is being undertaken by trail crews from the White Mountain National Forest,  Appalachian Mountain Club, Peter S. Jensen & Associates LLC, OBP Trailworks LLC, the Trail Fixing Collective LLC, Northwoods Stewardship Center Conservation Corps, Vermont Youth Conservation Corps, and N.H. Student Conservation Association. Many volunteers have pitched in and have made a huge contribution to the effort.
 
The World Trails Network-Americas and New Hampshire State Parks are major partners in the project. So far the work has been focused on the lower part of the Old Bridle Path, mostly within Franconia Notch State Park but also extending upslope into the WMNF. The work of the crews is pretty amazing. Through countless hours of intensive toil with rock and soil, they have fashioned a well-graded and sustainable treadway.


Near the top of this new section is a junction where a 75-yard connector leads rightward to the bridge over Walker Brook and Falling Waters Trail, while Old Bridle Path turns left and ascends more of these carefully constructed rock staircases. Over the next two years there will be a major relocation on the lower section of Falling Waters Trail.




Easy on the feet - could this really be a hiking trail in the White Mountains? Above here another relocation - this one nearly a half-mile long - has been marked, with work slated to continue next year.


Higher up, I left Old Bridle Path and descended a steep slope to Walker Brook in the lower part of Walker Ravine.



On the floor of the valley I followed a century-old logging road for some distance. This route is familiar to backcountry skiers heading into the south fork of Walker Ravine to ski "Lincoln's Throat."



Where the road petered out, I crossed Walker Brook.


On the far side there were several blowdown patches to navigate around.



Perhaps the ghost of another old logging road.



The confluence where the south and north branches of Walker Brook unite. I was heading into the north fork of the ravine.



A brushy swath on the south fork of the brook, just above the confluence, is likely a remnant of one of the slides that has swept down through the ravine.



The route into the north fork of the ravine starts with a climb up a very steep slope.



From the south edge of the steep slope, a glimpse of Lincoln's Throat, high above.



Once above the steep slope, the grade became easy to moderate through mostly open woods.




The north branch of Walker Brook, an inner sanctum of the Franconia Range.



A ferny opening in the forest.



There were occasional glimpses up to the cliffs and slides fronting the ridge followed by Old Bridle Path.



I had been into this valley several times on snowshoes, but this was the first time in here without snow. The woods were just as beautiful.



A Tolkienish opening strewn with mossy rocks. Good place for an Entmoot.



Flattened.


At the base of the old slide that was my destination, the brook was filled with revegetating slide outwash.


Climbing up a track of the slide, which likely fell during the September 1938 hurricane.



Emerging on the only open patch left on this slide, right at the bottom. When it fell from near the top of Agony Ridge, its open swath carried downward for 1,500 feet, as seen in a 1964 aerial photo. I know of one AMC hutman who climbed the slide up to the ridge in the 1960s.  In the photo shown here are two of a half-dozen white pines thriving on this remnant open patch.


Looking up the slide patch.



Looking down from near the top.


I found a rock seat and settled in for a long sojourn in the balmy sun, admiring the view across to the Old Bridle Path ridge.



Zoomed. The rocky swath on the right appears to be a slide that could also date back to 1938, or earlier.



A hazy view of ridges to the SW, including Mount Kineo, Carr Mountain and spurs of Mount Moosilauke. Mount Pemigewasset is in the foreground.


I probed a little way above the open patch. From here up the slide is completely revegetated.


A mossy stretch of the old track.




From the slide's edge, a glimpse up to Franconia Ridge, near Truman Peak.



 

A small gorge on the north branch of Walker Brook.



Taking a look up the south branch of Walker Brook, then time to head for home.