Carter Notch Hut - Winter 1986 - Hiking In

Welcome to this 4-part story of a 1986 winter hike up into White Mountains of New Hampshire. The link to each part of the story is beneath the images at the bottom of each page. This story is dedicated to the memory of Peter Murphy.

Hiking In

After the word spread around the office of my previous adventure and winter hike up into Carter Notch, several people approached me about organizing another trip for a larger group. In December of 1986, in response to that urging, I arranged for another group to make a winter ascent into the Notch and spend the weekend at the hut run by the Appalachian Mountain Club (AMC).
 
In addition to myself, there was Jerry, Cindy, MB, Helen, Sam, Frank, Peter and Brock making up the initial party; another co-worker, Jim, would try to meet us up there the following day. We were not experienced winter campers or athletes, but the hut presented itself as a way to experience the White Mountains in winter. The hut offered a destination at which you could cook a hot meal and have a roof over your head, albeit an unheated one. If you had a change of clothes and took care, you could survive the hike in and the weekend with the only discomfort being a couple of cold and miserable nights, especially if you did not possess a true winter sleeping bag.
 
We left Manchester, New Hampshire, before dawn in a convoy of four vehicles loaded with packs, gear and people. In about four hours, we stopped at the AMC facilities at Pinkham. We had coffee and checked on the mountain weather. A storm was approaching and the wind was picking up. We decided to go on, and ate a picnic lunch in the comfort of Pinkham. Finishing lunch, and using the last warm bathroom that we would see for the weekend, we got back into our cars and went on to the trailhead, ten minutes away to the north.
 
The trail starts at an elevation below 1500' and starts out heading gently to the east, giving everyone a chance to get loose and warm up. Warming up is never a problem when you are carrying a heavy backpack, and most people start off wearing too many clothes. You want to be lightly dressed while walking and have something handy on the outside of your pack that you can throw on when you take a break. You do not want everything you are wearing to become too wet from sweat. There are a couple spots that are a bit frightening. One, an icy traverse of a rocky stretch right above the brook, got everyone’s attention. The brook was running strong and frozen over, but it had open spots and would not hold your weight anyway. If you fell and the water pulled you underneath, it could be deadly; everyone was glad when we were finally past that stretch.
 
It was getting colder and windier, but we were working hard and making our way higher. At around the two-mile mark, we crossed a couple of streams on split-log bridges and the trail was now much steeper. High up on the north side of the valley of the brook we turned on the flank of the slope and headed for the notch. We could not see the notch directly but knew where it was ahead of us through the trees; Wildcat Mountain was now looming above us to the south. We came upon a sign by a stack of wood. It was a message from the hut master stating that everyone staying at the hut was expected to bring at least one piece of wood to the hut with them. It does not sound like much, but some people were tired and at their limit. However, everyone sucked it up and either attached one to their packs or carried one on their shoulders.
 
In five minutes, that seemed to take an hour, we reached the sign at the height of land in the center of Carter Notch. Here, the Wildcat Ridge Trail came down from Wildcat A above us to the south. We had come about 3.5 miles and we were close to our goal. There was no more climbing.
 
We headed down the far side of the Notch and the trail discharged us onto the frozen lake. We made our way across the frozen space, now fully exposed to the wind and snow. It was becoming late in the day; everyone was tired and spent. We reached the other side and followed the trail through the trees. There it was; we were finally at the hut. 

At the start		Nineteen mile brook trail
Stream crossing		Break time
Plodding On		Gaining altitude as the trail steepens
Climbing in the snow		Height of land - down to the hut

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