There is one main factor in outdoor recreation
that we have little ability to control, and that is the weather. Oftentimes,
especially in New England, you make plans and then hope for the best that
Mother Nature has to offer. Being the beginning of October, it’s possible to
expect any type of weather in the mountains from a typical cool crisp autumn
day with bluebird skies to blizzard-like conditions with gale force winds.
I had been watching the weather all weeklong in
hopes that the weekend forecast wouldn’t be a complete washout. I had made
plans to take one of my best friends from college and her boyfriend backpacking
in the White Mountains. This would be my friend Katie’s second backpacking trip
(her first being one we went on this past August in Vermont), and her
boyfriend’s first. Needless to say, it’s always slightly stressful trying to
pick and plan a trip that you think will be enjoyable for all levels of
experience.
We left Massachusetts early on Saturday and were
on the trail before 9:00am. We headed up the Gale River Trail, which starts out
quite flat before gradually becoming steeper and steeper. The final section of
trail makes your thighs burn with a seemingly never-ending staircase of
boulders. At the intersection of the Garfield Ridge Trail we kept going
straight to the AMC Galehead Hut.
The Appalachian Mountain Club maintains eight huts
(more accurately described as lodges) in the White Mountains, which offer a
full range of services to hikers in the backcountry. At the Galehead Hut, we
dropped our packs and took a quick trip up to the tree-covered summit of
Galehead. Upon returning to the hut, we took a quick break to refill water
bottles, take advantage of the composting toilets, and scarf down several of
the free pancakes that were left over from breakfast.
Onwards! Next up was the
Garfield Ridge Trail, not to be underestimated. Despite only having a little
under 3 miles to go ‘til we reached our campsite, the steep up and downs of the
ridge were a challenge for weary legs under heavy packs. The mountains were
socked in by the clouds and everything had been covered in a damp mist, making
rocks and roots particularly slippery. We took our time, carefully picking our
paths across sharply slanted slabs of rocks.
The plan was to spend the night at the Garfield
Ridge Shelter due to the rain that was called for. We booked it for the last half
mile to the shelter, and made it just as it started to drizzle. By lean-to
standards, this place was a 5-star luxury accommodation; it had a loft, ample
pegs to hang wet clothing on, and was finely crafted out of huge cedar logs.
Oh, and it costs $8 pp/night.
No more than 5 minutes after we arrived, people
started rolling in, including: a group of boy scouts, and a few guys who opted
to spend the night in hammocks. The rest of the evening was spent curled up in
sleeping bags, chatting with the troop leaders, and hanging out with their dog,
a Weimaraner named Loki. We were so cozy and warm that we almost debated not
getting up to make dinner. We fell asleep at dusk to the sound of the howling
wind, and sheets of rain falling on the roof above us.
The next morning after a hot bowl of oatmeal, we
shouldered our packs, and hiked to the summit of Garfield. Garfield is known to
have some of the best views in the Whites, but this morning the summit was
shrouded in clouds. We spent a while at the top watching the clouds rush by, as
the sun tried valiantly to burn through. Every now and again, the clouds would
part for just an instant and you were able to catch a glimpse of the sun-kissed
Pemigewasset Wilderness below.
The remainder of the hike was a
pleasant descent down the Mt. Garfield trail amongst the bright display of the
leaves that clung stubbornly to the trees and carpeted the forest floor.
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