Taking up where I left off

Webster Cliffs to Mitspah Springs

June 28th-29th, 2019

+AT mileage: 4.5/426.2
Total trip mileage: 7.8

When the northern Presidentials proved a bit beyond my abilities, I decided to come at them from the south. This meant covering the ground that had taken me down in August of 2017. I would start at NH Rt 302 in Crawford Notch, taking the infamous Webster Cliffs and then hike on to the Mitspah Springs AMC hut. My intention was to camp there the first night at the Nauman Tentsite, then leave my hammock set up there, and “slack pack” north the second day, turning back midday to return to Nauman for a second night. The third day I’d use the Crawford Path to my car parked at the Highland Center.

I drove up the the Highland Center on the 27th and stayed the night there, getting one of their excellent breakfasts before catching a shuttle down to the Webster Cliff trail (AKA, the Appalachian Trail). Weather was pretty much perfect, although maybe some overcast would have been welcome to cut back on the bright sun.

It was approximately a mile to place I had fallen. Because it didn’t look like a place I would’ve fallen, I just passed on, without really knowing exactly where it had taken place. In fact, this section of trail was actually relatively easy and, even though I wasn’t in great shape, I made pretty good time.

While still appreciating the decent footing and moderate inclines, I began to hear voices above me. I was surprised when the voices remained a distance a way. Then the trail took a turn for the “up”, with more exposed rock that took some care negotiating. Eventually the voices owners appeared above me, and we were able to trade some trail intelligence. The two gentleman belonging to the voices were grateful that they could start using their trekking poles again, since the stretch they were coming off needed both hands to safely traverse. That made me a little nervous. It was also apparent that my pace was about to slow way down. It was still before lunch, so I wasn’t too worried about needing to take my time.

So the scrambling began, and for the next hour or so I tried to but myself headspace necessary to cope with the terrain. At one point I came to a relatively flat section of trail that followed an exposed section of ledge with a phenomenal view into Crawford Notch and across to Mts Wiley and Field, as well as the ledge overlook on Mt Willard. Here I tried to stop for a snack or lunch, but I was immediately inundated by black flies. I was taken aback, because until that point insects had not been a significant issue. But I put on my head net and just had to keep moving. Because the gentlemen earlier had said that they couldn’t use their poles for a stretch, I assumed because I could I had encountered all the difficult climbing. The truth is, I hadn’t really encountered the difficult climbing yet.

On the AT, I had discovered that I have a pattern of thought that makes my life more difficult: if I think I’ve done the hard part, I believe I’ve used most of my energy reserves for the day. Then any additional difficulties feel beyond my abilities. That said, I’ve also experienced that thought pattern as a false belief.

The actual difficult part of the Webster Cliffs is both physically exhausting and emotionally difficult, because you are out there exposed hanging off the side of the mountain. My brother, Tim, had come down this trail a year or two before, and I can’t imagine the anxiety of climbing down and seeing where you’d go if you fell. You can ignore some of that facing the mountain, and even with that advantage, I had moments of terror. It took more than another hour to get to the to of Mt Webster, and I was shaking with exhaustion and adrenaline.

From the top of Webster, it is easy to see the ridge running up to Mt Washington. Looking at map representations during planning exercises cannot possibly communicate the scale. I stood there appreciating the stunning beauty before me, and feeling small and inadequate to the task of moving through that landscape.

Fortunately, I had a much smaller goal in the short term: cross the saddle between Webster and Mt Jackson, then descend into the saddle between Jackson and Mt Pierce. MItspah Springs Hut and Nauman Tentsite were just below the climb to the summit of Mt Pierce, and were just a little more than 2 miles from Webster summit. That I didn’t feel I had what I need to do 2 more miles had no real meaning.

Mitspah Springs AMC hut nestled below the summit of Mt Pearce from Mt Jackson summit

So I crossed to and sumitted Jackson (and the steep though short ascent kicked even more of my butt), then found the descent from Jackson even more daunting as I had to throw the poles down in front of me and use my hands to scramble down backwards over and over. I crossed the relatively moderate stretch before getting to Mitspah by taking 10 steps and resting for a couple of minutes, then repeating. I trudged into the Tentsite area after 6pm, which perhaps had been the longest (time wise) hike I had done since trying to catch up to Hops and Tilly at West Mountain in NY.

I checked in with the site caretaker, and worked out where I could set up my hammock. The black flies were still a plague, and I hunkered on the ground next to my hammock to finish the sandwich I had packed in for lunch, but which the black flies had denied me at the appropriate time. Then, with daylight still more than evident, I crawled into my bed, and lay in that “no thoughts” place that true exhaustion fosters. I don’t remember falling asleep.

The next day, the weather had turned, and I knew that, for one thing, the ridge would offer up no joy for views, and, more importantly, I was toast from pushing myself the day before. So I packed myself up, went over to the hut for a hot drink and a baked good, then took the connector trail over to the Crawford Path and down to car at the Highland Center.