On a day with better weather than expected, I headed into the Coppermine Brook valley on the west side of Cannon Mountain for a second look at the massive landslide that fell sometime last summer on the north side of the Cannon Balls. I went in to see it last November after hearing about it from avid hiker and backcountry explorer Declan Kiley, who spotted it from Polly's Pancake Parlor in Sugar Hill. I wanted to visit it again to see it without a coating of snow and ice. Also on the agenda were a visit to Bridal Veil Falls before heading to the new slide, and a continuation of the bushwhack to check out the lower part of an older slide on the slope of Mittersill Peak, the NW spur of Cannon.
Mine was the only vehicle at the trailhead for Coppermine Trail when I set out in the morning.
I made a brief detour off the trail down to Coppermine Brook for a look at the famous plaque placed on a ledge there by the actress Bette Davis. A good telling of this story is found in the book Haunted Hikes of New Hampshire, by Marianne O'Connor.
At 1.3 miles the trail passes an attractive ledgy spot on the brook.
Farther along is my favorite section of the trail, where it rises easily through a gorgeous open hardwood forest.
There was a dazzling Trout Lily display through here.
Perhaps the loveliest of the spring ephemerals.
An inviting slope.
Spring beauties, too.
And Red Trilliums. Bird songsters in here included Ovenbird, Blue-headed Vireo and Black-throated Green and Black-throated Blue Warblers.
Coppermine Shelter, located a short distance below Bridal Veil Falls, was built by the CCC in 1935.
Bridal Veil Falls from the pool at the base.
A careful ascent of sloping slabs on the left of the lower pool and a scramble up a short path earned me a closer look at the main falls. Caution is needed on the slippery rocks in this deep ravine.
The old CCC Coppermine Ski Trail brought me farther up the valley.
The memory of the scrappy whack up towards the slide was fresh from my November visit.
Much of the way I was pushing through a sea of hobblebush, which has flourished in this valley.
This glade seemed wonderfully open on a couple of snowshoe bushwhacks in recent years, when the snowpack was three feet deep. Not so open without the snow, but still beautiful.
I approached the new slide from below, first coming upon the scene of destruction at its base.
There's the slide!
At its base the new slide merged with the bottom of an older slide (sometimes skied) that has a stream running down its narrow ledgy swath. With snowmelt still ongoing up on the Cannon Balls ridge, there was a nice cascade spilling down the steep ledges.
I carefully scrambled a little way up from the bottom of the slide.
Looking back. The footing on this new slide is sketchy. Loose rocks, some of them large, mixed with gravel, dirt and ledge slabs, some with water running over them.
A little higher up, looking back at Mittersill Peak.
Side view.
I considered scrambling up these slabs, which seemed pretty grippy even when wet. But there was some loose gravel on top (treacherous) and not knowing what the going would be like above, with the exit into the woods on the side barred by a tangle of dead trees, I backed off and found a seat for a lunch break.
After lunch I descended to the base of the slide, climbed up into the woods, and, as I had in November, climbed the steep slope alongside the slide. Looking down, I was glad I had not continued up the slabs in the upper right of the photo.
A boulder cave in the woods.
The footing was treacherous climbing this slope, even more so coming down. There were many rocks with hidden holes between. Every foothold had to be tested.
A bird's eye view of the lower part of the slide.
From here I could peer up at the summit of Cannon.
Looking at the upper slide. I wanted to find a perch up there to take in some views.
Continuing up through the woods.
Won't be getting out through there.
Found a weak spot in the barrier.
Great view of Mittersill Peak here.
Heading up, carefully.
Breaking out onto the upper slide.
A wild cliff at the head, with water dripping off and running down the slabs below.
Down-look.
I picked my way across to the east side of the slide for a long view out to peaks in Vermont's Northeast Kingdom.
Devastation on every side. As Carol succinctly put it upon seeing these photos, "What a mess!"
Another angle on the headwall cliff.
Found a seat and spent some time hanging out.
After a slow, careful descent off the slide and down through the woods along the side, I continued down to the stream that drains the slide below. From here I could look up to the chaos of the new slide on the right and the wet ledge slabs of the old slide to the left.
Farther down there was a nice cascade and pool on this brook.
My descent route took a more easterly course than I followed going up, as I wanted to cut across the valley to the old Mittersill slide. This area was also infested with hobblebush, but at least it was different hobblebush.
I crossed Coppermine Brook high up in the valley.
These open young woods have taken root on the runout of the Mittersill slide.
I climbed up the mostly revegetated track of the slide, passing this scoured out bank.
Looking "slide-y."
I scrambled up through this little flume-like formation. The rock was grippier than it appears.
I ascended about 200 ft. to the largest remaining open swath on this slide. It is prominent and fresh-looking in aerial photos from the early 1960s, so it may have fallen during Hurricane Carol in 1954.
I bypassed slick ledges and made it up to the next level.
Down below there was a restricted view of the western Cannon Ball.
Looking up the open swath.
I descended back to Coppermine Brook through the adjacent woods, rather than going down over the at times slippery footing of the slide track.
A view down to the lower slide track from the top of the washed-out bank.
The point where the slide track (left) feeds into Coppermine Brook (right).
Evening descent through the hardwoods on the Coppermine Trail.
