BLOG - Fall in Acadia (abandoned Van Santvoord Path & an unnamed Sargent Mtn brook)

Another day in Acadia with hives, only this time they weren't so bad. Luckily when they pop up after having a cold, it's a lesser, more tolerable version. And I wasn't about to let a few itchy bumps stop me from a day full of foliage in Acadia. Technically last week was probably peak but we caught the tail end of the most vibrant colors. The island was packed, with the roads feeling more like highways, same goes for the carriage paths, but fighting the crowds was well worth it.

After a couple quick stops, Jaime and I set out on our first adventure of the day. With our proposed parking are completely empty, we pulled right in and headed out on the Day Mtn carriage path. Whoa, wasn't expecting that. Technically we were looking for a chasm in a cliff with a hanging boulder I'd seen in a photo years ago, but colorful leaves for background promotional images was more than enough to keep us happy.

Which is a good thing because we didn't find the cliff we were looking for. I assumed it'd be near the cliffs of Day Mtn, but with nothing to go on other than a closeup photo, it could be anywhere. After reaching the turn-off for the caves, we doubled back to the bridge over the loop road, where we got to see a horse drawn carriage make a wide turn to reverse directions. The horses knew exactly what to do without any prompting.

We made our way along the carriage path at the foot of the Triad, searching for remnants of the long abandoned Van Santvoord trail. No luck on the first pass but when we heard water actually flowing in Stanley Brook, after the much needed rain a couple days ago, we knew I'd be following it upstream. Jaime sat on a rock to read while I made my way up the babbling brook until it turned into a trickle by an incoming talus slope. Pretty little stream but nothing resembling a prominent waterfall.

Back to the search for the elusive Van Santvoord path, one I planned on including in the original Acadia You Haven't Seen, which didn't happen so certainly the second one. Nope again, never got around to it, and when I did happen to pass by that area for Summitting Acadia, I couldn't find the trail's remnants. Precisely why I brought Jaime today, she tends to spot them with ease. Still, I didn't take her word for it when she said the granite blocks below us looked like they could be steps, I was convinced they were coping stones that fell down the embankment. Until I made my way down and saw them from below. Yep, definitely an old staircase.

Across the carriage path we found what looked like it could be a dilapidated set of stone stairs leading up to the base of a cliff. I set out alone, leaving her to continue reading her book on a comfy coping stone,  and sure enough, more stairs. No denying these bad boys.

The remains of old staircases carried me up the mountain, interspersed with cairns that got left behind and branches trimmed back long ago. Occasional ledge outcroppings offered limited views over the Cranberry Isles and the westernmost peak of The Triad as the trail wove through pine forests and low lying blueberry bushes.

The never ending sets of steps continued over a small stream before winding their way up a steep hillside, nature having reclaimed very few of them over the last 80 years. I was expecting maybe a couple sets of granite staircases but Van Santvoord is literally one after another, each stairway somehow more fantastic than the last.

I popped out on the official trail just a short ways below the Triad's eastern viewpoint. It wouldn't be right if I didn't at least make it to the commemorative plaque still lodged into the ledge, despite the trail being lost to time long ago. On a fun side note, my first time up here, a porcupine nearly waddled over my foot, my first time seeing one in the wild.

I retraced my steps without any trouble, turns out the trail is easy to follow in either direction, even with a colorful array of leaves littering the path, you just have to know where to start. Unfortunately the batteries on my GPS are quickly fading and I didn't get to record any of my tracks to make a map, so I'll be back someday soon. Luckily it's a trail worth following again.

Back to the carriage path, we made our way to the car and had a little snack. Unlike my Acadia trip in July, I can actually eat this time so we had some banana bread and made our way to my next adventure of the day, a solo one this time. But first we had to maneuver through the crowds, the right lane turned into a parking lot for Jordan Pond House, stretching on for nearly two miles. We left the hustle and bustle and parked at the Giant Slide trailhead. The goal was a set of brooks along Aunty Betty's Pond Carriage Road to check for potential waterfalls, though I wasn't expecting much water today. Most of the leaves had fallen but it made for a beautiful path.

The first brook was unexpected, not appearing any map, but also very very dry. It looked like it could show some promise after a heavy rain but what intrigued me most was the granite block culvert that passed under the carriage path. Since it was dry, I obviously had to duck down and walk through it. Yes, I pretended I was in a castle.

Back to today's mission, I continued on to the next brook, checking my dying GPS every now and then after flipping the batteries, still not sure why that works. Well, I found the brook, only it's not where it shows up on the map. So I explored a little, just so it would register on my very limited GPS tracks, then continued down the carriage road.

A minute or two later I came across another brook, in the correct location, it even had a nice little waterfall right along the carriage road, but far less water in this one. Oh no, which one do I follow? The one on the map or the one with more water? When I said I was looking for a set of brooks, this wasn't one of them, that one is in the opposite direction.

While deliberating, I took some photos of the fallen leaves for Jaime to use as background images for posts about our mountain man romance short stories. The leaves were too perfect not to be photographed. I may have manipulated a few of them who wanted to get in on the action.

Alright, I've decided, we're going back to the brook with more water in it. Flipping the batteries every once in a while to at least partially record my tracks, I made my way upstream, knowing it'd be flat for the first couple tenths of a mile. The stream passed by this awesome tree with octopus roots early on.

Shortly past the octopus tree, the streambed began to get interesting, abandoning small rocks for gently sloping ledges with small pools below them.

The ledges, interspersed with rockier sections, continued on for a couple tenths of a mile, none of them nearly steep enough to be considered cascades, but a few got close.

About half an hour after leaving the carriage path, the terrain got steeper, creating multiple shelves of one to two foot drops that could almost be considered a waterfall, but not quite.

Well what do we have here? At the top of the series of tiny drops, with a steep ledge thrown in for good measure, I was greeted by this little gem. Probably only six feet tall but quite lovely, even in lower water. I could tell that a day or two earlier the small brook overflowed its streambed, I bet it would have been something really special when it was raging.

When leaving the ledge to re-enter the woods, the wet leaves and slick ledge do what they're known to do and I went down hard. I swore I heard something crack, luckily it wasn't me or any of my devices, small miracle. I landed on my right side but somehow managed to scrape the hell out of my left shin, still can't figure out how that happened. See the old rotting log on the left? I used that to grab hold of to stop myself from sliding further down the ledge. Unfortunately it was more rotten that I expected so holding on didn't exactly work. See that stick on the bottom right? I managed to wedge my foot in the Y at the base which successfully stopped my waterslide adventure. I was able to pull myself up the rotten log and roll to safety. While checking my GPS unit for damage, I swapped batteries again, back to the rechargeables and we're going to give credit to my little tumble, they worked perfectly fine and it recorded the rest of my tracks without any issues.

After that ordeal I laid on a flat slab, using my Sawyer filter to drink from the stream and collect myself. And of course I left my Neosporin in my pack in the car. The leg didn't feel the best but I'm not good at letting things stop me, even when they probably should, so I kept heading upstream, where I found this fall foliage masterpiece.

One slab led into the next, no grand waterfalls but a series of gently sloping open ledges made even more picturesque by the colorful leaves decorating the landscape. At one point the trees randomly opened up at the base of a slab, giving the woods a rather field-like essence, complete with grass. Grass much nicer than that found in my yard.

The granite slabs of the streambed got a little more steep and rugged as I drew closer to the carriage path. Another six foot cascade into a pool helped edge this one closer to being a noteworthy brook.

And just above that was this impressive waterslide, not much today but I bet a couple days ago it was a raging wall of water. Well that solidifies it, this stream needs a name, it's earned its place on the map. Not that it's really on the map, at least not its lower half, this brook and the one beside it seemed to get merged into one when they are in fact two separate streams.

Just a short ways above the waterslide, I spotted the coping stones lining the carriage road, a welcomed sight. Why, when you have an injury on your leg, does every stick that sees you think it'd be funny to brush against that exact spot? Luckily it was cold enough for me to be in my hiking pants with reinforced shins. The culvert was a little too wet to walk through, but the way the sun was shining on a tiny maple with the brightest red leaves I've ever seen made the tunnel look like it was on fire.

Rather than bushwhack back down the brook, I opted to follow the carriage path a short ways to the Sargent Northwest Trail, which connects with the Giant Slide Trail. I found myself limping a little but not too bad, it had more to do with my pants brushing my bloody shin, which was bruising up already. So I didn't mind stopping to admire the colorful birches in the fading sunlight.

The short leg of the Northwest Trail wasn't bad at all, I even crossed a small stream that showed some promise, which I believe is the first stream I crossed with the large culvert I got to walk through. Had I not been injured and losing daylight quickly, I would have followed it down, but I was moving pretty slow by this point. I stuck with the trail, thinking I'd pop out on Giant Slide by the easy part, below the ravine of boulders. I did not pop out on the easy part, that much was clear the second I spotted the huge rock slab cave.

Well this isn't good. My bruised leg didn't make it easy but I managed to crawl under and over the boulders that make this one of Acadia's most interesting trails. Highly recommended, just not when you're having trouble moving your leg, I have a little trouble contorting my body to shimmy through those caves on a good day. The babbling brook and colorful trees made it bearable though.

I finally crossed the carriage path I started out on, which meant just under a mile back to the car. Plenty of sunshine left in the day, as in like an hour which is actually pretty good for me, I was able to take my time and enjoy the woods in their autumn outfit. Fall has always been my favorite season for hiking.

Made it back to the car as the sun was setting, sprayed my shin with Neosporin, and joined the parade leaving the island. With traffic backed up a few miles from the light to leave MDI, I'd say this might be the busiest I've ever seen it. We stopped at Mardens in Ellsworth so I could stretch my leg, I didn't want it getting stiff from sitting too long. Limped a little but did good moving through the store.

We headed home from there, stopping at McDonalds to pick up supper, our first real meal of the day. Little Slugger the opossum was waiting for us on the deck when we got back, wondering where his supper was. Don't worry, he got fed. While I was showering I realized I also had some injuries around my left shoulder, including a bit of blood, and I still can't figure out how I got banged up on both my left and right side. All the injuries went away after a few days, except my right hand where'd I landed, that took another week or two. It didn't stop me from yard sales a couple days later though, last hurrah of the season, but I went out with a bang. Jaime says I don't need a third GI Joe Headquarters playset but she doesn't understand that this is the 2001 re-release which has a different color scheme. She's right about one thing though, where the hell am I going to put it?

Well I'd say that was a successful day in Acadia, especially considering we really just went for the foliage. Can't wait to go back and see the stone staircases of Van Santvoord again, for accurate GPS tracks, and follow that nameless brook in all her raging water glory. Bring on the rain.

BLOG - Waterfalls On A Nameless Brook In Pinkham Notch NH

Not gonna lie, little sore after conquering Moosilauke in the frigid clouds yesterday with my sister and brother-in-law. But not too sore for another hike! We loaded up the cars, took one last look at the small stream that runs behind the hotel and headed down for continental breakfast, I had my waffles today and they were delicious. We took a little stroll through the Whale's Tail parking lot next door for a morning view of the Franconia Ridge, our favorite view of all time.

Since no one was in a rush to leave, we decided to go up the Indian Head tower, way too many stairs for sore legs but nobody was willing to carry me up. The foliage was just starting and oh what the hell, where was this perfect weather yesterday when we were nearly getting blown off a mountain in the clouds? We hit the gift shop after and said our goodbyes, which is when I realized I was starting to get sick, the cold we'd all been dodging since Dad caught it a couple weeks ago, the one my sister just came down with.

Julie and JR headed to VT for a day of historical-esque activities and I made my way through Twin Mountain and up to Pinkham Notch, sucking on vitamin c drops the entire way. Spoiler, there was no avoiding the cold but I put up a hell of a fight and went out with a bang before it got too bad. A short ways south of Glen Ellis Falls, I'd followed an unnamed brook a couple years earlier but turned back a little too soon when I couldn't find a safe way into the ravine above the lower falls, which were quite spectacle so I was fine with it. Looking at my route on the maps, I knew there were more falls upstream. So I headed out on my first real bushwhack in quite some time. 

One major problem, the battery in my gps unit must be close to dead because it was shutting off after a minute or so. Second problem, breathing through a stuffy nose had me taking breaks every couple minutes. But I powered through and followed the brook uphill, sticking to the top of the ravine where it was steep but not the kind of steep you need to hold onto trees to stop yourself from rolling backwards, an obstacle I faced last time around. I got just enough juice out of my gps to know I was in the general vicinity of where I wanted to be, which meant making my way into the ravine.

 

The descent wasn't too bad, mainly because I overshot by about a hundred feet, putting me at the top of the falls when I was aiming for the bottom. From then on out, the adventure began to get a bit dicey with some questionable maneuvering down the ravine. Fortunately I was rewarded with one cascade after another, none nearly as tall as the lower falls but all impressive in their own right, averaging about twelve feet on most drops.

The upper multi-tiered set of falls gave way to sun soaked ledges with gentle waterslides, a nice change of pace after clinging to trees to lower myself down to the next shelf, paired with a couple controlled slides down exposed slabs until catching myself on protruding ledges. My mother would have a heart attack if she saw some of my methods. As would my sister, who explicitly told me not to do anything stupid on my exploration. Come to think of it, my wife wouldn't be too pleased either. Please, no one repeat to them what I just told you.

From there the brook entered an even more narrow part of the ravine where crossing became mandatory if I wanted to continue. I questioned calling it a day but knew I had to keep going or it'd haunt me, like it's been doing for the past two years. So I continued working my way down where I encountered another cascade into a crystal clear pool.

Definitely time to exit the ravine now as the brook traveled down a narrow sluice with high cliffs rising above it. Or, hear me out, I could make my way down the steep, mostly dry portion of streambed that skirts around the sluice. Yep, we're going with that one, and occasionally popping over to check out the ravine, but not getting too close because that is quite a long drop.

The dry streambed was rough going in parts with slick ledges and logs to climb under, over, and sometimes through. I had to contort myself into a pretzel to squeeze through this one, while also climbing up the chute of boulders.

But the waterfalls were worth the risk.

Even when the risk involved small rock ledge shelves with big drop offs, not the environment you want to trip or make a wrong move.

The pool beneath this twin cascade would be the perfect place for a swim, if there wasn't a thirty foot sheer cliff on the other side. Thank the hiking gods my cold hadn't progressed to the sneezing phase, I would have been clutching more trees than I already was.

Another questionable slide down a wet slab on the dry side-streambed brought me to the base of the falls I visited a couple years ago. They might have been closing up the Whale's Tail waterpark when we walked by this morning but I got my own personal waterslide right there in the woods. It was that or climb back up some routes I shouldn't have taken to get down in order to make it out of the ravine, and I was so close. Dry waterslide time!

Out of the ravine with no issues, other than some sticks poking me in the arms and one to the forehead, I made it to the thirty foot falls I'd first come across two years earlier, other side of the stream this time around. They were just as impressive, which is weird considering the drought and how low most of the streams were that I'd passed in the last few days. I'm definitely going to need to make a return trip after a good rain, maybe just to the lower falls, the upper part of the ravine had a few too many sketchy parts I'm not sure I need a repeat of.

Smooth sailing back to the car, picking my way over the gently sloping terrain. I continued down the notch to another pull-off where I spent a few minutes exploring the Ellis River, rock hopping downstream until I got hungry enough to head back up to Gorham. It didn't take long.

I hit the Dynasty Buffet, who'd thankfully reverted back to their old menu. It was phenomenal, the food was hot and felt like heaven going down my sore throat, water on the other hand didn't feel so good going down. Oh but that food, excuse me while I drool over this photo.

Woops, sorry, you caught me still drooling. I popped more vitamin c drops on the three hour drive home but it was useless by that point, I was already sick and deteriorating quickly. Other than that it was a nice drive with the first specks of fall foliage peeking through. Luckily the bad part of the cold only lasted three days, one and a half where my throat felt like I was swallowing shards of glass every time I swallowed. Three days isn't bad, I'm giving credit to all those vitamin c drops and Airborne tablets I sucked on. If you're familiar with my chronic idiopathic urticaria hives saga, yes, I did get a few after the illness left my body but nothing even worth complaining about. Wait, is that another unnamed Pinkham Notch brook just a short ways down the road? Time to start planning my next waterfall adventure.

BLOG - Mt Moosilauke in the Clouds

Home for a week, after a bunch of toy hunting and hiking in CT, and we're back at it on another road trip. The weather didn't look the best but with a storm predicted for the following weekend, we said screw it and headed for New Hampshire. We being just me this time, no wife as she caught the cold my dad was kind enough to share with all of us, but I was meeting up with my sister and her husband at Woodward's Motel in Lincoln. It rained the whole way there which meant no hiking but it's all good, I stopped at a few antique malls along the way and did a little toy hunting.

Made it to Lincoln in time to hit Chutters for some fudge, not just for me, wifey had requested it and I wasn't about to argue when fudge is involved. Then Price Chopper for some supper and over to the hotel. We've been coming to Woodwards since we were kids so it'll always have a place in our hearts.

The rain mostly stopped by the time we finished supper, okay not really but we love walking along the road in the evening there so we went anyway and just got a little wet. We kept the walk short though, just through the Whale's Tail parking lot and around the duck pond at the hotel.

Up bright and early the next morning, we found way more clouds than we were hoping for but stuck to the plan for Mt Moosilauke, a mountain none of us had ever climbed. The clouds looked like they were lifting though. (Future me jumping in here, they didn't.)

A little continental breakfast to start the day and we were off, disappearing further into the clouds the higher we drove. Not a good sign for things to come but man did it look cool.

We took the Snapper Trail up to the Old Carriage Road, overall not too strenuous of a climb, just a regular White Mountains trail with lots of rocks and roots that seems to never end. Not sure why I love it but I do.

Aside from rocks and roots there was an occasional stream crossing, made nice and easy by bridges.

The more elevation we gained, the lower the clouds got, until we could see them blowing past us. Definitely no views today. When we hit the ridgeline I peeked out over a little viewpoint and as we suspected, it was nothing but white as far as the eye could see. It made for some rather haunting photos in the eerie mountaintop forest.

We passed the turnoff for the South Peak, figuring we'd hit it on the way back, and continued along the ridge. The rain from the day before turned the trail into one long puddle with a few dry patches of higher ground sprinkled in. It took some fancy footwork but I managed to straddle, hop and shimmy through thick pines without getting my shoes wet. They both had waterproof hiking boots but weren't willing to give me a piggyback, I'm blaming it on the big breakfast I had.

After what seemed like a never ending stretch of puddles, with wind picking up now that the trees were barely taller than us, I decided to call it quits. I'm not working on any peakbagging lists so the summit wasn't that important to me. I told them to continue on while I slowly made my way back over the long stretch of puddles. Until a group of hikers coming down said this was the first puddle they encountered, meaning I only had one more to. So after showing them where to step, I rock-hopped back across and broke through the tree line, where I was greeted by tundra-like conditions.

The wind was constant and nearly strong enough to knock me over, with visibility so low you couldn't see over the ridge. Had to pull out the jacket my sister made me bring, even though it filled up my entire backpack. It turns out she was right, I needed it. I couldn't see them through the clouds, I could barely see the next massive cairn along the trail.

There may not have been any views, but the experience was otherworldly. I don't do winter hiking so it was nothing like any hike I'd ever experienced before. Watching the clouds whip by, every low lying bush shaking in the constant wind, it was like being in a snowstorm with whiteout conditions. My fingers went a little numb from taking so many photos.

I finally heard their voices on the wind and the summit post came into view, I was practically on top of them before I knew anyone was there. We took a few pictures from the summit before needing to get out of the wind.

I don't think my sweat turned into icicles but it was close. Ice certainly would have made the puddles easier to cross, but I somehow did it again without getting my feet wet. Back at the South Peak junction, I convinced them we needed to do it, just in case it counted as one of the 48 4,000 footers they were hoping to cross off their list, we later found out it doesn't, but the added 0.15 mile climb redeemed the viewless hike.

Although slightly steep in spots and surrounded by creepy woods, it was more than worth the added steps. Especially when we got to the top and the clouds lifted every once in a while, giving us our first partial views of the day.

Oddly enough the wind wasn't quite as bad on South Peak so we decided to eat lunch up there, dropping our sandwiches to take photos every time there was a quick break in the clouds.

With my sweat dried, or possibly frozen to my skin, we made our long descent. Sometimes the breaks in the trees lined up with the breaks in the clouds and we got quick views into the distance. No clue what mountains we were looking at but there were some cool humps before the clouds obstructed them again.

By the time we reached the bottom, 4 miles later, the clouds had mostly lifted. I think had we waited an hour or two after we'd started, we would have had some spectacular views. Oh well, still an awesome and very memorable mountain. We headed back to the hotel, washed up and went out for an early supper at a restaurant downtown they'd recently been to, the Woodstock Inn Brewery.

We sat outside and had fun dropping table scraps for the excited sparrows hopping around at our feet. I got the bbq pulled pork sandwich with sweet potato fries, it was delicious. The birdies agreed.

Back at the hotel, we hit the indoor pool and jacuzzi while everyone else was enjoying dinner, so we had it all to ourselves, at least for a little while. The pool at Woodwards is where we both learned to swim, this was our first time being back there together since the mid 90s.

The hotel's changed hands and had some updates, but to us it's still our home away from home. We even got to sit outside in the evening, since it wasn't raining that night, listening to the babbling brook as we had some dessert. The perfect way to end a day we'll never forget.