After bailing on a planned bushwhack into the Sleeper Brook ravine due to a late start, I switched to Plan B, a leisurely ramble a couple miles into the Dry River Valley on the always interesting Dry River Trail.
The first 0.7 mile on Dry River Trail, up to the boundary of the Presidential Range-Dry River Wilderness, is deceptively flat and easy.
Just past the boundary sign, you see the first indication that this valley has been reshaped by three huge rainstorms: Tropical Storm Irene in August 2011, the "Halloween Storm" of 2017, and a nameless deluge in December 2023. At this spot the width of the riverbed has expanded from 80 feet to nearly 250 feet, and the course of the river itself has been changed twice. This open area is a worthy destination for a short, easy hike. Beyond here, the trail becomes significantly more difficult.
There are still a few short segments of trail that follow the bed of the Saco Valley Railroad, a logging railroad that penetrated five miles into the valley in the 1890s. Due to numerous relocations and washouts over the years, most of the trail no longer rides on the railroad grade.
The first short, rough relocation swings to the left around a tree-and-boulder dam.
Just beyond is a rough sidehill relocation with poor footing, skirting above a washout perpetrated by the December 2023 storm.
A view up the widened riverbed.
I was just here last October, but since then there has been yet another relocation around a washout. This one is surprisingly mellow, if a bit muddy.
A view from where the trail used to go.
A pleasant section on a shelf high above the river.
After this is a sort of triple whammy of tricky spots. First, this scramble along the edge, sketchier on the descent.
Second, a tightrope along the edge of a washout.
Third, a massive birch trunk to negotiate at an awkward spot.
Then there is a steep sidehilly climb to a bluff where the window view up the valley to Mt. Washington was fogged in.
Then a steep descent on a narrow sidehill with a couple of tricky spots that had been slickened by a rain shower.
This suspension footbridge, originally built after two hiker drownings in the river in 1971, is the key to getting deeper into the valley. The Dry River may live up to its name in times of severe drought, but crossing it at moderate water levels is difficult, and in high water it is dangerous.
Some pleasant walking along the east side of the river.
My objective for this leisurely hike was to visit the two huge gravel slides on the west bank, about 2.2 miles up the trail. I dropped down to the rocky riverbed a bit to the south and hopped my way upstream.
Rugged ledges along the east bank.
This massive gravel slide was initially created by Tropical Storm Irene in 2011 and was expanded by the 2017 and 2023 storms. It currently measures more than 400 feet across and rises 150 feet in elevation from the river.
Closer look.
Tree debris litters the riverbed.
A wonderful riverside sitting rock.
Taking in the Dry River scene.
Towering white pines on the east bank.
Last year, I climbed up the lower part of this slide, but on this day, due to a recent rainfall, I couldn't find a comfortable place to cross the river.
Looking back as I continued north up the boulder-strewn riverbed.
Looking upstream.
After a stint through the woods, I came out across from the second slide area. These two swaths are much older, dating back at least to 1939 as seen in aerial photos. The longer right fork rises 280 feet in elevation above the river, with a slope of 36 degrees. I climbed partway up the right-hand one last year, but again, I found no good place to cross the river here.
Closer look. Steep and unstable!
Looking upstream at the open area by the boundary. After the 2017 storm the river surged through a cascade at this spot. The 2023 storm changed the course of the river, moving it back over to the other side.
While making my way along the riverbed towards the slide, I came upon this piece of rusted rail from the 1890s that had been swept downstream by one of the flood events.
Getting closer.
As I rounded a bend, a downstream view of Frankenstein Cliff was revealed.
As was the full extent of this giant slide area.
Here the river was divided into two channels, and I was able to find a way across to the delta at the base of the slide.
I climbed a little way up, and looked across to a view of Mt. Willey and Mt. Webster.
Zoom on the brooding hulk of Willey.
Some rocks precariously perched up there.
Looking upstream from the slide.
Coltsfoot, an invasive, is an aggressive pioneer and is thriving on these slides.
To return to the trail, I crossed back at these attractive ledges. Lots to explore in the untamed Dry River Valley.
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