Hike: Mount Carrigain
Elevation: 4,682
Date: September 19, 2015
Location: Grafton County, NH
Distance: 10.0 miles
Time: 7:16 (43:36/mile)
Due
to some unexpected events, Sara and I found ourselves with a completely free
weekend with a beautiful forecast. So, clearly there was only one solution:
road trip!
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| Good view of North Twin from the motel! |
In
our quest to summit all 67 4,000-foot mountains in New England over 67 months,
we’ve accumulated a few loose ends. We wanted to cross a couple of
single-summit hikes off the list. North Twin was orphaned from its South Twin
summit during our Labor Day Weekend hike with the girls across Galehead, South
Twin, and Zealand. Mount Carrigain just
sort of hangs out there, all by its lonesome. So this formed our itinerary for
the weekend. We’d start with Carrigain, the longer, tougher hike, and follow it
up with North Twin before heading home.
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| Sara helpfully pointed out the extremely large map. It was too big to fit in my pocket, so we stuck with the small, folded paper version we'd brought. |
There
aren’t a lot of hotels in the North Twin area, even less that have a
refrigerator or microwave. By process of elimination, we found a place, the
Profile Deluxe Motel; despite being a 60-year-old motel, it’s clearly been
upgraded while retaining a nostalgic vibe, and it turned out to be inexpensive
but with some great touches. We set ourselves up Friday night, and Saturday
morning we found ourselves at a crowded trailhead at 9:00 a.m.
The
first couple miles of the ten-mile, out-and-back hike were easy, and we chatted
across a mix of topics as we made good time. Then Carrigain began rising significantly from its immediate surroundings. It became an ongoing climb
until we were half a mile from the five-mile halfway point. At that point, the
trail opened up and we began to get great views. Two weeks earlier, we’ hiked
the north side of the Pemigewasset Wilderness with the girls, and had views
that were amazing, at times with Carrigain at the southern end. Most of the
amazing views we normally have still include condos or towns dotting the
landscape. But in the Pemi, the landscape is pure wilderness; nothing but
nature. Now, we began seeing across it to our prior hike.
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| The views from Carrigain's Signal Ridge begin to show a slew of summits in the Pemigewasset Wilderness. |
When
we finally hit the summit and found a fire tower, we were able to sit on the
platform and see for miles as we snacked. We spread out our map and Sara began
pointing out the summits we’d already crossed off the list, as well as some in
our future.
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| Looking back from the summit at the trail across Signal Ridge that would return us to the parking lot. |
The
hikes we’ve done and those remaining were part of a meandering conversation that,
for the first time, touched on what we might do after our “New England 67”
personal challenge. We explored the idea of a hiking bucket list; no lengthy
challenge but maybe a series of particularly interesting hikes, such as a Pemi
death march across a slew of summits; a winter overnight hike; a week-long hike
including stays at all of the AMC’s high mountain huts; a group hike with a
couple of friends’ families… the topic made for an interesting distraction from
the grind, and to think about how hiking might look after May of 2018. And
then…
My
knee flared up on the descent. Not my occasionally gimpy left knee. No, that
would be predictable and mitigated by the knee brace I’d bought. Nope. Life
throws you curves, and sometimes you get plunked by those pitches. At first I
thought I was imagining things. But as it kept worsening, I soon realized my
right knee was doing the same thing my left normally does. Seriously, this is
ridiculous. I’m already trying to protect two bad feet, a bad knee, using
hiking poles. Does it count if I just parachute to the summit, plant a “Jay was
here!” flag, take a picture, and get airlifted out? I used to hate the uphill
grind. Now it’s the only reliable part. It’s as if I’m part of some cosmic
experiment, and I can only imagine what’s next: “let’s see what happens this
time if we… dislocate his kneecap!” “How about now he rips his groin muscle off
the bone?” By the end of the descent I could barely walk. Then I had a 1.7
(allegedly) flat hike back to the parking lot on the final trail.
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| Early signs of Autumn. Boo... |
When
we hit that trail intersection, we saw a guy sitting there. It turns out we saw
him at the summit with friends, and he’d sped past them on the way down. He was
waiting for them, as they were about fifteen minutes behind us. Sanjay had
recently come to the U.S., was working on his doctorate from Dartmouth, and
this was his first summit. One of the friends Sanjay was accompanying was
finishing his forty-seventh New Hampshire summit, leaving just Mount Washington
the following weekend before finishing all that were in New Hampshire. It was
refreshing to see someone so excited by life, finding new ways to explore the
world around him and making the most of his experience. He was so enthusiastic
and optimistic that we couldn’t help but wish him all the best.
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| Fabyan's Restaurant at Bretton Woods was the perfect apres-hike spot to enjoy a last touch of summer and some laughs with Sara! |
After
lingering in a pleasant conversation, we headed on. Every little descent led to
bone-on-bone shooting pains up my leg. Sara let me set the pace, but as we
neared the end of the trail we heard some hikers approaching us. She noted them
and we got a bit competitive, making a dash for the finish line. We had a great
but stupid pace for the final stretch, bursting back into the parking lot and
high-fiving each other before I limped to the truck.
We
felt we’d earned a reward, and knew we’d pass Fabyan’s restaurant on the way
back, across from the Bretton Woods ski resort. It appeared to be a good place,
named after one of the prominent historical figures in the area and converted
from a former train depot but retain that old-time feel. Although we hadn’t
brought a change of clothes, Sara had some layers she hadn’t used that she
could change into. I had to resort to hanging my sweaty, wet hiking shirt off
the back of the truck to at least be air dried by the time we hit the restaurant.
We sat outside, enjoying some great food and view, soaking in one of the last
summer-like days of the season.
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| Another summit, another problem. |
That
evening, as we laid in the hotel room, my legs a sore mess, we were still
happy. We’d hit our thirtieth summit and had some great conversation along the
way. My knee pain had subsided once we hit flatter terrain and then finished
hiking, leaving me comfortable trying for a hike the next day. We knew the
season was nearing an end, but had picked up some hiking momentum and now felt
a renewed connection to the mountains. All in all, it’s hard to call this a bad
day!
See
you on the trail,
Jay Bell, AKA Rock Hopper
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