Franconia Ridge Loop (Little Haystack, Lincoln-6, Lafayette-7)

Well, this is it! It has all built up to this weekend. After the mishap at the end of the August trip, I immediately booked 2 fall weekends in a row in the Whites, in case one of them turned into a bad weather. This is the first of them. Chad unfortunately cannot join me once again, but I have promised him that whenever we are able to schedule a weekend we will definitely do this loop together. For now, I will hike it solo. As I drive into the Franconia area, I am overwhelmed and almost tear up over the idea that it is really happening! I probably could have taken this trek a lot sooner but I wanted to make certain that I was ready, and the slow build has made this moment that much more meaningful.

I will camp at Lafayette Place once again and start out first thing tomorrow morning. There is heavy rain in the forecast tonight, but then clearing overnight to make way for me as I set foot on the Falling Water trail. The autumn leaves have reached their peak colors, maybe just past, and look amazing as I arrive at my site to set up camp. With the skies expected to open up, I hang an extra-large heavy duty tarp over the picnic table and campfire area, and prepare to settle in and grill up some steak tips on the fire as I admire the surrounding mountain tops I will start to ascend as the sun rises. Morning cannot come soon enough. I AM TOTALLY UP FOR THIS!!

After a night listening to the rhythm of the rain pelting my tent furiously and then fading as I drift off to sleep, I awake to the sounds of birds, chipmunks and other critters, scurrying about and well into their daily routine. I am fully refreshed and ready to get a start on my spectacular day. I fuel up with a cup of coffee and some breakfast; make one last check of my backpack items, get into my hiking wear and make my way to the trailhead. It is a great day for a hike! The fall mountain air is crisp and clean, and the oranges and yellows are everywhere. As I get to the start of Falling Water Trail, there is a ranger greeting everyone and reminding of the 20 degree temps that await us at the summit. My pack is well stocked with some extra layers, gloves and hat in addition to a sandwich lunch, fruit, trail mix and plenty of water.

It’s not long before I find out the reason behind the trail name, as I come upon a series of breath taking cascades. I pause at each of these to take in the tranquility and attempt to capture it on camera, even though I know pictures can’t possibly do it justice. I made sure I got an early start so I could go at a comfortable pace and take in every moment, every sound, every view, and there are certainly more than enough of these.

 

I couldn’t ask for better day to take this on. The trail is a bit wet and sometimes slippery on the freshly fallen leaf bed or smooth rock slab, but nothing I can’t navigate. All in all the conditions are great and my boots are gripping well. I feel so lucky to be here to witness such natural beauty and be so connected to it all!

Every so often I approach, or pass another hiker or group either ascending or descending and greet them with a “hello” or a “good morning” or “how are you, great day isn’t it?” Normally this would be just polite small talk but it somehow feels more genuine here, like we are all connected in a deep spiritual way that is bigger than all of us and goes back to long before any of us were here. Ok maybe I’m getting a little bit flower-child-ish here, but there is at least definitely a more pleasant way about people on the trail. It also seems the farther North you go, the nicer people are maybe my imagination, but what is usually just a polite nod down in mass is always some sort of kind, engaging greeting up here, and becomes a long conversation in Maine.  As you go down into RI this becomes a strange look as if to say “what? Whatddyalook’nat?” And if you go to NYC it becomes nervously try to avoid eye contact for fear of getting mugged. Perhaps NY is the equator of congeniality because if you go south from here it seems to go back into the nice direction until you get to that famous southern hospitality…. OK maybe this is an unfair generalization. What I really believe is that most of us all over the globe, at our core are generally good natured and kind-hearted. The trail just has a way of magnifying our good side I think…  Silly things like this pop into my head as I find my pace and make my way further up the trail which is no longer filled with waterfalls and has turned into alternating patches of foliage and evergreen with sometimes smooth sometimes rocky trails.
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Other thoughts are fond memories of hiking with my brothers and sister and where I was in life back then and how much has happened since then. Songs of these times fill my head, when I was just getting into bands like Rush and Yes and was very much into writing progressive music with my brother. Now I do it more for fun, and mostly cover bands, just to keep playing and keep music as part of my life… BUT I DIGRESS! That’s one thing I love about this: you are away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life and can get lost in your thoughts, and I don’t mean just a daydream, I mean really good and LOST, but never so lost as to not notice the gorgeous surroundings which demand your attention and wonderment.

I go on like this for a while before I come to a point where there is a detour to Shinning Rock. I remember reading about this outlook and the view it has, but I decide to push on as I am on a roll with my rhythm and making good progress toward  this ridge I have heard so much about. Before too long I enter the alpine zone, where I reach for some extra layers and prepare for the drop in temperature. I approach the first of 3 peaks where there are many groups stopped in their tracks, some to bundle up some more, some to have a snack and water break and all to stand speechless and in awe one of the best views in the Whites! All around there are majestic spans of landscape that can bring a grown man to tears. If I look back where I came up I see the granite face of Cannon Mountain, The Cannonballs, Kinsman peaks, and Moosilauke. To my right (south) I see the ridge that leads to Liberty and Flume (which I will save for another day). Ahead of me (east) down in the valley of the Pemi wilderness is Owl’s Head and across the way are the familiar Bonds with the Presidentials in the more distant east.  To the Northeast are Garfield and the Twins with Hale hiding behind them. To my left is the open ridge I will continue to make my way across to Lincoln and then Lafayette. Okay, so I was only able to identify a few of these at the time and only now can I fill in the blanks as I write this. There are many many more mountains as far as the eye can see, too many to name and as I take a 360 video I am consumed with one thought:  I WANT TO CLIMB THEM ALL!!!

As I make my way across the Franconia Ridge toward Lincoln, I find myself walking much slower now as I am continuously looking around in wonder, and there are just no words to describe what I see in every direction I look. I take picture after picture knowing full well this will only capture a fraction of this amazing experience. The song that plays over and over in my head is “The hills are alive, with the sound of music…” which will continue to play on a loop throughout the majority of the rest of the day. And I feel  like throwing my arms up and do that famous Julie Andrews spin, but thankfully I lack the dress so I contain myself.  I reach the Lincoln summit with what seems to be no effort at all, as if I am floating or gliding across the ridge.

I take some more pics of the landslide to my right down to Owl’s Head and imagine the awesome force that took down everything in its path wiping out the entire side of the mountain. I am probably putting more circular miles on my feet than forward miles as I look around at my mountains. Still one thought keeps coming back: I WANT TO CLIMB THEM ALL!!! I wonder if this is possible for me to do. Surely there must have been some that have done it. This is of course before I had ever heard of the NH48, the NE 67, or any other list out there. I would find out about these lists very soon, but for now it was just a strong inner urge I have that has consumed me to my core, down to my very soul. 

I continue on up the ridge toward Lafayette, now feeling the strain on my legs and feet as I climb exposed to the cold wind, starting to feel hunger creeping in now. So I make my final climb of the day along the rocky knife edge ridge. I have decided at this point that this is something I definitely want to research and achieve in my lifetime. I would find out eventually that this in an actual thing many set out to do, but for now it is an idea that was inspired by a day filled with natural beauty and a love for hiking. As I write this now I am proud of that fact, and that this is how my quest was born. I believe this inner spirit will keep me going to reach my goal which is currently to climb all NH 48 first and then perhaps the NE 67. I have since tried a few winter climbs and I love it, but don’t see myself completing the winter version of the list. This could change as I become more comfortable and experienced with it over the years but for now I am content to finish the 48 in no particular timeframe or season, just every chance I get. Certainly plenty to keep me busy for a long while… Anyway I reach my final and highest peak of the day and I know I sound like a broken record (or broken mp3 player for you youngins) at this point, but yes more amazing views in every direction!

It is really cold now so I seek some shelter behind a rock put some warmer gloves and hat on, have a seat on the east side of the summit and look down to Owl’s Head Garfield The Twins and others in the Pemi wilderness as I eat the most delicious bologna and cheese sandwich of my life. Everything tastes so much better after a long hike!!

After I’ve had my fair share of summit views (but not my fill of them by any stretch) I start to make my way down a fairly easy descent on the Old Bridle Path/ Greenleaf Trail toward the Greenleaf Hut. The trails are a bit more crowded now and I find myself in the company of some truly gabby people, and intermittently stop to let them pass so I can get back to letting the mountains speak to me. I pass a small pond and reach the Hut and take a load off for a bit. Now I am feeling the full effect of the days exercise. My legs are starting to feel tired and weak. I am sure I will make it down the final stretch without issue as long as a keep a slower deliberate methodical pace. There are some great views of the west side of the ridge from below here and a few really nice lookout points as well.

Now it’s a steady decline down the Greenleaf trail as my legs are pretty well spent but I eventually stagger my way back to the trailhead across the underpass and back to my campsite where I take a much needed shower, start a campfire and have a great recovery meal and a well-deserved ice cold Sam Adams. I thumb through my pics and reflect on a perfect day and look forward to the newly born journey ahead. Thank You Whites for this new beginning and a chance to see the world again for the first time through different eyes!