Signposts
and Junctions
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.
A Winter Trip to Carter Notch in a Storm
Following my first successful winter sojourn into Carter Notch, I was
approached by several people at work who wanted me to organize another
weekend 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 Carter
Notch and spend two nights at Carter Notch Hut, one of the High Huts of the
White Mountains, a hiker’s refuge staffed and managed by the Appalachian
Mountain Club (AMC).
Carter Notch Hut sits above two small lakes in the rugged notch between two
mountains, Wildcat A and Carter Dome. The shortest and easiest approach was
by the Nineteen Mile Brook Trail. Our group numbered nine at the outset; in
addition to myself, there was Jerry, Sam, Frank, Peter, and Brock. Joining
us were three women: Cindy, MB, and Helen. Another co-worker, Jim, planned
to meet us up at the hut on the following day. We were not experienced
winter campers or athletes, but the hut presented us a way to experience the
White Mountains in winter. Carter Notch Hut offered a winter destination
where a hiker could cook a hot meal and have a roof over their head, albeit
an unheated one. If you had a change of clothes and took care, you could
survive the hike and the weekend with only the discomfort of enduring a
couple cold and miserable nights, especially if you did not possess a true
winter sleeping bag.
We left Manchester, New Hampshire, right before dawn in a convoy of four
vehicles loaded with packs, gear, and people. In about four hours, we
reached the AMC facilities located in Pinkham Notch at the base of Mt
Washington. We had coffee and checked on the latest weather forecast for the
mountains. A winter storm was fast approaching and the wind would pick up
substantially over the next two days, after discussing the weather and the
challenges bad weather would present, we decided to continue as originally
planned. We ate a mid-morning lunch in the comfort of the Pinkham Notch AMC
building and afterwards we used and enjoyed the last warm bathroom that any
of us would see for the long weekend ahead. Then we got back into our cars
for the drive to the trailhead, ten minutes away to the north.
The trail began at an elevation below 1500' and started out heading gently
to the east, giving everyone a chance to get loose and to warm up. Warming
up is never a problem when you carry a heavy backpack and most people start
a hike wearing too many clothes. You want to be lightly dressed while
carrying a heavy load and have a wind parka or sweater attached to the
outside of your pack that you can put on when you stop and take a break. You
do not want everything you wear dampened from sweat.
On the trail, one early spot was a bit daunting; an icy traverse of a
narrow rocky ledge right above the brook got everyone’s attention. The brook
was running strong and partially frozen over, but the surface had many open
spots free of ice that showed the water flowing below; the ice would not
hold your weight in any event. If you fell and the water pulled you
underneath the ice, the situation could be deadly; everyone was glad when we
had safely passed that stretch.
We continued on the trail as the temperature fell and the intensity of the
wind grew. Near the two-mile mark, we made two brook crossings on split-log
bridges; beyond this point, the trail was much steeper. We plodded on
through the snow as the time went by and the storm worsened, but we worked
hard and made our way high up the ridge side.. High up on the north side of
the valley we turned on the flank of the slope and headed for the height of
land in the notch. Wildcat Mountain was now looming above us to the south.
We came upon a large stack of wood close to the trail. Nearby a sign fixed
to a tree notified all that the hut master expected everyone staying at the
hut to carry at least one piece of wood to the hut. A small request indeed,
but some people were tired and at the end of their endurance. However,
everyone sucked it up and either attached a small log to their packs or
carried a piece of wood on their shoulders.
In e few more minutes, that seemed to take an hour, we reached the sign at
the height of land in the center of Carter Notch, the highest point reached
by the trail into the hut. Here, the Wildcat Ridge Trail came in from the
right, down from the steep flank of Wildcat A high above us to the south. We
had come about 3.5 miles and we were close to our goal. We had no more trail
to climb, the path continued down through the pines on the other side of the
rough and narrow ridge.
We headed down the far side of the ridge and in a minute, the trail
discharged us out onto the surface of the frozen lake with the storm howling
around us. Footprints led out across the lake and disappeared in the blowing
snow; we followed them and made our way across the frozen space, now fully
exposed to the storm. It was now late in the day; everyone was tired and
spent. We reached the other side and followed the trail up through the
trees. Finally the hut came into view; we had attained our goal.
| At the start | Nineteen mile brook trail | |
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| Stream crossing | Break time | |
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| Plodding On | Gaining altitude as the trail steepens | |
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| Climbing in the snow | Height of land - down to the hut | |
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