Date(s) Hiked:
5/29/04 - 5/30/04
Trails(s) Hiked:
Unnamed trail
Coppermine Trail
Kinsman Ridge Trail
Total Distance:
~ 7 miles on Saturday
~ 4 miles on Sunday
Difficulty:
Not at all.
Conditions:
Occasional muddy spots, cold, uber-windy.
Special Required Equipment:
Warm, windblock clothing.
Trip Report:
The Memorial Day long weekend started at 6am Saturday as I drove northward on I-93. My destination was Franconia, where I'd be joining MtnMagic to hike up the west side of Cannon Mtn on a lost trail. It would prove to not be as easy as it sounds.
I was ahead of schedule as I drove through Franconia Notch, where the wind was whipping the cool air around; Franconia Ridge was frosted with rime ice. I noticed that Lafayette Campground was still advertising vacant spots for the night, and given that it was a holiday weekend I chose to stop and claim a campsite rather than take my chances later in the afternoon. I quickly set up my tent (you must have a physical presence to keep a site), weighting down the tent with my gear and tying it to the picnic table, then raced around the end of the ridge.
I met up with MtnMagic and GhostDog at the head of the Coppermine Trail, where our journey began. We started up into the woods with high spirits, and quickly turned off the trail into the woods. I won’t tell you where, but we soon picked up an old ski trail. My thought was that it was “just like bushwhacking, except that there’s a trail.” Someone had definitely been maintaining this route - there was plenty of cut vegetation. Oddly, it had been cut but left in place instead of being cleared. It wouldn’t be until later that I realized the implication of this.
In places it was like following any other official trail; in other places we just had to go on faith that it would reappear or that we’d find a flag. And finally, we could go no further. There was a very clear path that vanished into an impassable swamp, and a vague path that simply vanished into the vegetation. That was it. We were not in the mood to do a true bushwhack, so we turned back. This trail was clearly being maintained as a winter trail only. The swampy area would be frozen over, and the cut vegetation would just be covered by snow. It’s probably a great route in the winter. But in the summer, it just wasn’t happening.
After bushwhacking over to the Coppermine Trail, we decided to go up and see the shelter and Bridal Veil Falls. This is a beautiful location. The shelter sits just below the falls, looking out across a fine fire ring to the gurglings of Coppermine Brook. But the real magic lies just upstream at the Falls, where the large veil shoots out and comes crashing down into a pool which then itself cascades down more ledge. Through creative climbing it is possible to get right up to the base of the Falls, and in fact one couple even managed (not recommended) to get all the way up to the top.
There’s an interesting side-effect of the Falls’ geography, however. Because of the tall, steep rock ravine that has formed, and its sheltered location, it was very cold. While it was not snowing (as it did elsewhere in the Whites that day) I did find myself bundled up and my fingers turning numb.
So after a snack, we started back down the trail. As we dropped in elevation and came down out of the ravine, it warmed considerably before we were suddenly back at the cars around 3. It was a good attempt, and I thoroughly enjoyed myself in spite of not quite making the summit (and we weren’t far - it was easily visible). After a quick driving tour of the area, I stopped by the local store for provisions and went back to my site at Lafayette Campground.
It was a cold evening. I spent the better part of it cursing that even though I was car camping I had still loaded my gear with a backpacker’s mentality, and didn’t think to throw in my winter coat or even take my tent heater. Actually, it’s because I hadn’t remembered to check the weather forecast (temps to be in the 30’s overnight). But still, I could have been a lot more comfortable. Fortunately, when I did finally curl up in my sleeping bag in the tent, I was toasty warm and had a great night’s sleep.
Up with the dawn, I made hot oatmeal and packed up my gear. I was at the Tramway parking lot and stepping out to the Kinsman Ridge Trail at 7:35. It was a bit of a trick to find the trailhead due to the ongoing construction; since it was a Sunday, I took the easy route and cut through the construction area. Midweek, you’d have to go around and follow the red flagging.
The Kinsman Ridge Trail wastes no time in gaining altitude. Overall, the trip is 2000’ over 2 miles, but most of that elevation is gained in the first 1.2 miles between the start and the top of the cliffs. The first section is steep but not steps, the kind of trail I hate the most for the way it bends my foot up and stretches my ankle and calf. I’d rather do rock stepping than steep walking. After not too long, I passed through a horribly eroded section of trail. The ground level was around 4-5 feet higher than the trail, which was just loose sand and gravel. I was shocked to see conditions this bad on a maintained trail, and accurately predicted that descending it later would be dangerous and bring slips and falls.
The next section of trail switches across what felt like a long-ago slide. There are numerous exposed sections of rock as well as scattered boulders and loose debris and a lot of running water. It was tricky, but never a problem. With the appropriate caution a safe route was always available. It soon became apparent that I was also paralleling a ski trail, as a clear-cut section followed the trail and at a sharp left turn it continued forward towards the visible tramway cables.
One last bit of ascent, and I crested the ridge. The first views of the summit buildings were a deceptive tease. They looked only a short distance and climb away; however, what I could not see was the sag between them and my current location. It would take a half-hour to get there. But first, I would enjoy an overlook from atop the cliffs.
Wow. What a location. Open, inviting stone slab to spread out on. The world dropping away below my feet towards the Notch. A ribbon of highway extending into the distance. Franconia Ridge spread out in front of me. I wanted to just stay there, but the summit was calling and the wind biting, so I turned back to the trail proper and marched onward.
After dropping into the sag, the Kinsman Ridge Trail comes out on the face of the slope, and it’s just like any other White Mountains above-treeline hike, stepping from lichen-covered, greenish, sharp-edged boulder to boulder, all exposed. I was lucky to be going up the east face given the northwesterly winds, and the views remained astonishing.
And suddenly the trail pops out on a walking path from the Tramway summit station. Every hundred feet or so there was a bench and a view, set up for the tram-based visitor. I moved along past these to the junction with the continuation of the Kinsman Ridge Trail at the border between Franconia Notch State Park and the White Mountain National Forest. From here, it’s only a hundred feet to the summit proper of Cannon Mtn and its observation tower. Two hours from the car, I had arrived at 4K #32.
The old fire tower is still there but abandoned, dwarfed by the huge new tower that seems to house broadcasting equipment (based on the big antenna rising up out of it). The wind was vicious here - I would later learn that it was in the 25-30mph range, with an air temperature of only 30F (that means a wind chill of 0F). I went up on the roof for some quick pictures, but after losing a self-portrait to the wind blowing the camera over, I decided to head back down to a more sheltered location for a snack. I ended up leaving the summit just as the first tramload of tourists arrived.
On the way up, I had only seen one person; he was already descending. As I started down, I encountered several couples and groups making the ascent. I chatted briefly with many of them, enjoying the company, but at this point I just wanted to get down and warm up. It took about 1:45 to descend - the ares of ledge with water required caution, and I took more than one spill on the loose gravel of the badly eroded section. But the spring greens were wonderful and before I knew it I was done - I chenged my clothes, got in the car, stopped at the Woodstock Inn for some growlers, and was home, showered, and at a barbecue by 3:30 that afternoon. That’s the way to bag #32!
The full set of pictures is available (but not yet captioned) here.
5/29/04 - 5/30/04
Trails(s) Hiked:
Unnamed trail
Coppermine Trail
Kinsman Ridge Trail
Total Distance:
~ 7 miles on Saturday
~ 4 miles on Sunday
Difficulty:
Not at all.
Conditions:
Occasional muddy spots, cold, uber-windy.
Special Required Equipment:
Warm, windblock clothing.
Trip Report:
The Memorial Day long weekend started at 6am Saturday as I drove northward on I-93. My destination was Franconia, where I'd be joining MtnMagic to hike up the west side of Cannon Mtn on a lost trail. It would prove to not be as easy as it sounds.
I was ahead of schedule as I drove through Franconia Notch, where the wind was whipping the cool air around; Franconia Ridge was frosted with rime ice. I noticed that Lafayette Campground was still advertising vacant spots for the night, and given that it was a holiday weekend I chose to stop and claim a campsite rather than take my chances later in the afternoon. I quickly set up my tent (you must have a physical presence to keep a site), weighting down the tent with my gear and tying it to the picnic table, then raced around the end of the ridge.
I met up with MtnMagic and GhostDog at the head of the Coppermine Trail, where our journey began. We started up into the woods with high spirits, and quickly turned off the trail into the woods. I won’t tell you where, but we soon picked up an old ski trail. My thought was that it was “just like bushwhacking, except that there’s a trail.” Someone had definitely been maintaining this route - there was plenty of cut vegetation. Oddly, it had been cut but left in place instead of being cleared. It wouldn’t be until later that I realized the implication of this.
In places it was like following any other official trail; in other places we just had to go on faith that it would reappear or that we’d find a flag. And finally, we could go no further. There was a very clear path that vanished into an impassable swamp, and a vague path that simply vanished into the vegetation. That was it. We were not in the mood to do a true bushwhack, so we turned back. This trail was clearly being maintained as a winter trail only. The swampy area would be frozen over, and the cut vegetation would just be covered by snow. It’s probably a great route in the winter. But in the summer, it just wasn’t happening.
After bushwhacking over to the Coppermine Trail, we decided to go up and see the shelter and Bridal Veil Falls. This is a beautiful location. The shelter sits just below the falls, looking out across a fine fire ring to the gurglings of Coppermine Brook. But the real magic lies just upstream at the Falls, where the large veil shoots out and comes crashing down into a pool which then itself cascades down more ledge. Through creative climbing it is possible to get right up to the base of the Falls, and in fact one couple even managed (not recommended) to get all the way up to the top.
There’s an interesting side-effect of the Falls’ geography, however. Because of the tall, steep rock ravine that has formed, and its sheltered location, it was very cold. While it was not snowing (as it did elsewhere in the Whites that day) I did find myself bundled up and my fingers turning numb.
So after a snack, we started back down the trail. As we dropped in elevation and came down out of the ravine, it warmed considerably before we were suddenly back at the cars around 3. It was a good attempt, and I thoroughly enjoyed myself in spite of not quite making the summit (and we weren’t far - it was easily visible). After a quick driving tour of the area, I stopped by the local store for provisions and went back to my site at Lafayette Campground.
It was a cold evening. I spent the better part of it cursing that even though I was car camping I had still loaded my gear with a backpacker’s mentality, and didn’t think to throw in my winter coat or even take my tent heater. Actually, it’s because I hadn’t remembered to check the weather forecast (temps to be in the 30’s overnight). But still, I could have been a lot more comfortable. Fortunately, when I did finally curl up in my sleeping bag in the tent, I was toasty warm and had a great night’s sleep.
Up with the dawn, I made hot oatmeal and packed up my gear. I was at the Tramway parking lot and stepping out to the Kinsman Ridge Trail at 7:35. It was a bit of a trick to find the trailhead due to the ongoing construction; since it was a Sunday, I took the easy route and cut through the construction area. Midweek, you’d have to go around and follow the red flagging.
The Kinsman Ridge Trail wastes no time in gaining altitude. Overall, the trip is 2000’ over 2 miles, but most of that elevation is gained in the first 1.2 miles between the start and the top of the cliffs. The first section is steep but not steps, the kind of trail I hate the most for the way it bends my foot up and stretches my ankle and calf. I’d rather do rock stepping than steep walking. After not too long, I passed through a horribly eroded section of trail. The ground level was around 4-5 feet higher than the trail, which was just loose sand and gravel. I was shocked to see conditions this bad on a maintained trail, and accurately predicted that descending it later would be dangerous and bring slips and falls.
The next section of trail switches across what felt like a long-ago slide. There are numerous exposed sections of rock as well as scattered boulders and loose debris and a lot of running water. It was tricky, but never a problem. With the appropriate caution a safe route was always available. It soon became apparent that I was also paralleling a ski trail, as a clear-cut section followed the trail and at a sharp left turn it continued forward towards the visible tramway cables.
One last bit of ascent, and I crested the ridge. The first views of the summit buildings were a deceptive tease. They looked only a short distance and climb away; however, what I could not see was the sag between them and my current location. It would take a half-hour to get there. But first, I would enjoy an overlook from atop the cliffs.
Wow. What a location. Open, inviting stone slab to spread out on. The world dropping away below my feet towards the Notch. A ribbon of highway extending into the distance. Franconia Ridge spread out in front of me. I wanted to just stay there, but the summit was calling and the wind biting, so I turned back to the trail proper and marched onward.
After dropping into the sag, the Kinsman Ridge Trail comes out on the face of the slope, and it’s just like any other White Mountains above-treeline hike, stepping from lichen-covered, greenish, sharp-edged boulder to boulder, all exposed. I was lucky to be going up the east face given the northwesterly winds, and the views remained astonishing.
And suddenly the trail pops out on a walking path from the Tramway summit station. Every hundred feet or so there was a bench and a view, set up for the tram-based visitor. I moved along past these to the junction with the continuation of the Kinsman Ridge Trail at the border between Franconia Notch State Park and the White Mountain National Forest. From here, it’s only a hundred feet to the summit proper of Cannon Mtn and its observation tower. Two hours from the car, I had arrived at 4K #32.
The old fire tower is still there but abandoned, dwarfed by the huge new tower that seems to house broadcasting equipment (based on the big antenna rising up out of it). The wind was vicious here - I would later learn that it was in the 25-30mph range, with an air temperature of only 30F (that means a wind chill of 0F). I went up on the roof for some quick pictures, but after losing a self-portrait to the wind blowing the camera over, I decided to head back down to a more sheltered location for a snack. I ended up leaving the summit just as the first tramload of tourists arrived.
On the way up, I had only seen one person; he was already descending. As I started down, I encountered several couples and groups making the ascent. I chatted briefly with many of them, enjoying the company, but at this point I just wanted to get down and warm up. It took about 1:45 to descend - the ares of ledge with water required caution, and I took more than one spill on the loose gravel of the badly eroded section. But the spring greens were wonderful and before I knew it I was done - I chenged my clothes, got in the car, stopped at the Woodstock Inn for some growlers, and was home, showered, and at a barbecue by 3:30 that afternoon. That’s the way to bag #32!
The full set of pictures is available (but not yet captioned) here.
