Showing posts with label Whitewall. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Whitewall. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Biking Bondcliff

My White Whale

Waterlogged and exhausted from close to 25 miles and 8,000 feet of hiking in the rain with a 30 pound pack it was all I could do to put one blistered foot in front of the other.  Lower back spasms brought me to my knees more than once, but each time I managed to climb back upright on my cramped legs and push on in the rain.

It was the second day of Gered’s bachelor party weekend.  Our motley crew of hikers had set out the previous day from the Lincoln Woods visitors’ center intent on completing the famed loop around the Pemigewasset Wilderness. We were supposed to climb up onto the Franconia ridge, march past Garfield and eventually descend down off of Bondcliff. 

We had failed miserably.  And now the Wilderness Trail was having its way with us.

Monday, January 3, 2011

How Steep Is It?


The Flume a/k/a Certain Death
Have you ever skied Upper Goat on Stowe?  How about Devil’s Fiddle at Killington?  Middle Hardscrabble at Cannon?

How do they compare to the Headwall at Tuckerman’s, or the Flume, or that unnamed slide that keeps catching your attention on your trip through Crawford Notch?

 As I’ve been pondering different glades, slides and balds for skiing this winter, the question inevitably  arises: How steep is it?

Google Earth might just have a tool to help us all find the answer.


Tuesday, May 4, 2010

-Trip Report- Whitewall: Abundance of Caution (January 2010)

                                                      Going Ninja on Whitewall

The thermometer registered 9 degrees above zero as we pulled into the parking lot.

It was already 7 pm and dark.  The plan was to get up to Zealand Notch, camp overnight, ski Whitewall in the morning and then possibly ski Mt. Hale on the way back in the afternoon.  We calculated a total distance (round trip) of around 12 miles-- even without a trip up to the top of Mt. Hale it was ambitious.  Gered and I had already spent the better part of the afternoon braving high winds and zamboni grade ice at Cannon Mountain.  Our legs were tired and our spirits were low.  And we still had a long two days ahead of us.