Dry River Valley: 9/27/24

The Dry River Valley has long held a special fascination for me. This huge basin on the south side of Mt. Washington, between the Southern Presidentials and Montalban Ridge, has an aura of remoteness, mystery and even spookiness, perhaps harking back to Nathaniel Hawthorne's story, "The Great Carbuncle." From 1892-1898 the valley was logged by crews working for the Saco Valley Railroad, which ran a tortuous course up the canyon-like lower half of the valley, crossing the river 13 times on trestles. This misnamed river rises fast and furious after heavy rainfall, and the trestles were washed out within a few years after the railroad ceased operations.

When it was opened in the 1930s along the bed of the railroad, the Dry River Trail also had numerous crossings. But after two hikers drowned in 1971, a footbridge was built at the first crossing and numerous relocations were made to eliminate most of the other crossings. As a result the trail sports many rough ups and downs, making it much more difficult than a typical valley trail.

In recent years the Dry River Trail has been ravaged by three epic storms: Tropical Storm Irene in August 2011, the "Halloween Storm" of October 2017, and a prodigious rainstorm just last December. The floodwaters of these storms doubled the width of the river in many locations and wiped out several sections of the trail bed. After Irene and the Halloween Storm, the USFS Saco Ranger District made several new steep up-and-down relocations, making the trail rougher than ever. The Halloween Storm also added a sketchy crossing of a  loose gravel slide beyond the Mount Clinton Trail junction.

The December 2023 storm caused still more washouts, including a major one about a mile in on the trail, which I took a look at in January. I had seen reports of a new relocation there, and of a second gravel slide crossing beyond the one mentioned above. I wanted to check out these new features for future trail descriptions. Combined with a bushwhack farther up the valley to a hidden cliff with an unusual view, it would make for a rewarding full day's outing. 

Note: There are still a few short stretches of good railroad grade walking on this trail, but overall it is quite rough with a number of narrow sidehill sections above steep dropoffs. It takes significantly longer to walk than the stats would suggest. There are no major stream crossings in the first five miles, but the river must be crossed to connect to the Mount Clinton Trail or Mount Eisenhower Trail, and also on the Dry River Trail above Dry River Falls. These crossings are dangerous in high water. Though it is an alluring, remote Wilderness area for backcountry camping, it is not a suitable backpack for beginners. The USFS sign in the photo is truth in advertising. As noted in the AMC White Mountain Guide, "Perhaps no other trail in the White Mountains  better demonstrates the power of raging water."

 

The trail starts out innocuously with an easy half-mile through a fine hardwood forest. The area near the junction with the Saco River Trail was never logged.

The trail enters the Presidential Range-Dry River Wilderness at a huge washout caused by the 2017 Halloween Storm. This is Wilderness with a capital "W."

The river was significantly widened here.

When I came through here in 2021, there was a lovely cascade and pool at this spot created by the 2017 storm. The December 2023 storm rearranged the river again, and now this spot is mostly dry.

About a mile in, the new relocation splits to the left.

The old trail route to the right leads to this dead-end.

 

By necessity, the relocation ascends a steep sidehill, with poor footing, especially on the descent. The Dry River Trail has gotten a little more difficult, again.

After the new relocation, the trail skirts another washout, rather precariously. There is a muddy bypass around this spot to the left.

A startling view down to the river at yet another washout.

And another.

After a steep and rough up and down over a high bluff with a restricted view up the valley (fogged in this morning), the trail crosses the river on a suspension footbridge. The bridge has been damaged and repaired several times in the last fifteen years.

View upstream from the bridge.

There are numerous gravel slides along the steep slopes of the narrow lower Dry River valley. This is the largest of them, 300 feet long and very steep with a slope of 40 degrees. This slide is old, its lower part appearing in a 1939 aerial photo. It apparently expanded upslope sometimes during the 1960s or 1970s. In 1997 I bushwhacked to a smaller, higher gravel slope farther up the valley (which offered a unique view of Mount Isolation) and went partway up this one on the way back. Not surprisingly, the footing is very loose and treacherous.

There are many scenic views of the river along the trail.

One of the few pleasant sections of railroad grade walking.

There are two steep, rough up-and-down relocations around washouts leading up to the junction with Mount Clinton Trail. The north end of the second relocation is a tad sketchy.

View downstream to Mount Bemis where the trail skirts the edge of a smaller washout.

I made a short side trip to check out the river crossing on the Mount Clinton Trail. Irene significantly widened the riverbed here in 2011, creating a vast field of rocks and gravel.

After crossing a water channel on the eastern side, which was a fairly easy rock-hop this day, the crossing follows cairns 100 yards north along the outwash area.

The route then crosses a water channel on the west side (newly created by the 2017 storm) and climbs a low, steep bank, marked by cairns, into the woods.

About 0.3 mile north of the Mount Clinton Trail junction, you approach the diciest stretch on the Dry River Trail, where you cross two steep gravelly washouts and tightrope across the top of a third..

The first of these washouts, opened by the 2017 storm, is the trickiest to traverse, as there are few reliable footholds.

There is a long drop to the river, a no-fall zone. In 2019 a hiker fell down this slope and sustained injuries serious enough to require a carryout.

In a few yards the trail descends across a second washout, carved out by last December's storm.

View from the washout.

It then descends along the edge of an older, revegetating washout.

A half-mile or so farther, I left the trail and began ascending the lower part of a long SW ridge off Mount Isolation.

After climbing a steep slope with mildly scrappy woods, I emerged in a gorgeous hardwood forest that I remembered from two previous whacks up this ridge.

A golden glade.

A champion yellow birch.

This steep pitch was the gateway to the obscure clifftop viewpoint. I hadn't been to this spot in 15 years, and hoped there would still be an open view.

There is!

Mount Carrigain and Mount Hancock rise beyond the canyon-like windings of the lower Dry River valley. Mount Whiteface, the Sleepers, and Mount Tripyramid are seen in the distance to the left.

Across the valley is Mount Jackson, seen from a unique angle that reveals a very broad profile.

 

A moose has apparently been checking out the view, too.

After an all too brief sojourn at the viewpoint, I did some spruce swimming to get down off this little knob.

Heading back down through those glorious hardwoods.

Inviting.

Colorful canopy.

Nice!

A neat ledgy spot back down on the river.

 

Dusk view of Boott Spur and cloud-wreathed Mount Washington from the bluff south of the footbridge. The Dry River Valley can beat you up a bit, but the rewards are great.

 

Gale River Slide/East Garfield Loop: 9/24/24

I headed into the Gale River Valley for a hike that combined an approach up the Gale River Trail, a climb up the 1954 Gale River Slide, a bushwhack to the Garfield Ridge Trail from the top of the slide, and a loop descent by Garfield Ridge Trail and Gale River Trail, with a stop at the ledges of "East Garfield" for views into the western Pemigewasset Wilderness.

I always enjoy the mellow hardwood walk on the first mile and a half of the Gale River Trail.

The water was low in Garfield Stream, which the trail crosses at 2.2 miles.

Beautiful woods along the section of trail above the crossing, part of a major relocation constructed in 2102.

There is still evidence of the 1954 slide where the trail crosses its base. When it fell on August 31, 1954, the debris from the slide created a temporary dam on the river, which subsequently let go, sending a huge surge of water down the valley. At the time, Ben Bowditch, assistant hutmaster at Galehead Hut, was hiking up the trail. He heard a strange noise and saw the water surge coming down through the woods. He grabbed onto a tree and held on for an hour as the water rose as high as his waist. After the surge receded somewhat, he went back and forth along the trail, finding the river crossings still impassable, and eventually bushwhacked back to the trailhead, where he was met by concerned fellow hut crew members. (Bowditch's experience was recounted in the June 1957 issue of Appalachia.) A few days later AMC Huts Manager Joe Dodge sent two employees in to survey the scene.  John Ranlett estimated that the slide was three-quarters of a mile long and 60-100 yards wide. The duo marked a route across the base that donkeys could use to supply Galehead Hut.

This sloping gravel swath, reached by a short bushwhack, is one of the few open areas left on the lower part of the slide.

A bit of additional bushwhacking brought me to the base of the open ledgy part of the slide. The slide was as dry as I have ever seen it, and I was able to climb the full length of it without any detours into the woods around wet slabs.

Emerging onto the widest ledgy section. The rock was dry and grippy making for fun scrambling.

Side view.

Down-look.

Pretty sky looking out to Vermont's Northeast Kingdom.

Down-look from another angle.

I plopped myself down on a favorite flat perch and enjoyed a leisurely early lunch.

 

The sun made an appearance and illuminated the view up to the massive bulk of North Twin, with birch gold dotting its lower slopes.

 

 

I enjoy studying these wild and well-nigh inaccessible cliffs on a North Twin shoulder. They are well-guarded by steep slopes and dense cripplebrush.

 

After an hour's sojourn I headed farther up the slide, following a narrow ledgy swath. Vegetation has taken over much of the upper part of the slide.

 

Still some fun scrambling.

Looking back.

One of several tamaracks (larches) that have taken root on this slide. I have seen these on only a handful of other slides, and this tree was not observed  on any of the 22 slides surveyed by Edward Flaccus for his 1958 dissertation, Landslides and Their Revegetation in the White Mountains of New Hampshire..

I have a special affinity for this slide, perhaps because we're about the same age.

 

 

Typical ledge steps on a slide.

Expanded view out to the mountains of the Northeast Kingdom, including Burke, Umpire, Bald, East Haven, East and Gore Mountains.

Top of the open part of the slide.

From here I followed a steep, narrow, overgrown track upward.

Higher up, at 3100 ft., was one more open spot, perhaps the trigger point of the slide.

This is the highest of many white pines that have seeded in on this slide. In 2009 and 2010, the late Alex MacPhail, an AMC hutman in the early 1960s and a keen amateur naturalist, spent many days at the Gale River Slide studying its revegetation and soil development. He documented his research in his excellent blog, White Mountain Sojourn. MacPhail noted several white pines on this slide, and wondered how they got here as this tree is otherwise not found this high up in the valley. His question prompted my own interest in documenting the occurrence of white pines on slides high in the mountains.

This ledge loomed soon after I began the whack to the top of Garfield Ridge.

The whack was rather rough and scrappy, and seemed harder than the first time I did it in 1995.

The woods improved near the crest of the ridge.

I skirted this cliff and soon came to the trail.

A rare mellow stretch of the Garfield Ridge Trail.

Near the point where the trail reaches its high point on "East Garfield" (3590 ft.), one of New Hampshire's Hundred Highest peaks, I followed a very tight and pokey herd path to the summit. From there some tricky maneuvering down ledge steps was required to reach the edge of the cliffs overlooking the western Pemigewasset Wilderness. 

The view here is a junior version of the Mount Garfield vista, with Owl's Head lurking out there in the center.

From this angle, Owl's Head actually has a peak.

Adding Mount Lafayette to the vista.

And Mount Garfield.

South Twin looms to the east.

Galehead Mountain is close by.

North Twin to the NE.

The Garfield Ridge Trail, oh my!

Gnarly.

Massive rock steps on the steep section of the Gale River Trail.

The Giant Stairs of North Twin.

Autumn scene on the North Branch of the Gale River.