Date: 2007-08-13
From: Crawford Notch, NH

To: Mizpah Springs Hut, NH
Miles today: 6.4

Having done this ascent before does not make it any easier. The top of Webster Cliffs is only 2 trail miles away, but in that distance we go up 2000 feet. Ugh! Fortunately it is cloudy while we hike, and that helps a lot. Later in the day the clouds depart leaving us with clear blue skies.We stop for lunch and are greeted by a Gray Jay who does not hesitate to grab some crumbs from us. This must be his standard routine. With all the hikers coming through and stopping at this location, he probably gets fed rather well. I hope he¢s smart enough to fly south for the winter.We arrive at the Mizpah Spring Hut at an early 2 pm. We would like to keep going 5 more miles to the Lakes of the Clouds Hut, but we are told it is full to capacity. So we decide to stay here, not in the expensive hut, but at the affordable tent site a short distance away. This proves to be a good choice. The tents are occupied almost exclusively by REAL HIKERS, just like us. Conversely, we would find a lot of day hikers staying in the hut. They would all be congratulating themselves on their success on Webster Cliffs, and how tough it was to carry those weighty 10 pound day packs. Yeah, right! We¢ll stay in the tent, thank you. We prefer the company of our own kind.What is this? See explanation at August 10, 2007.Wednesday, September 8, 2004, Crawford Notch, NHHurricane season. Tropical storms. High winds and lots of rain. Anyone living in New England for thirty years, as April and I have done, knows that our northern region is not immune to the effects of these storms. Many times we have been battered by remnants of storms that started in the Caribbean and didn¢t lose any steam as they traveled north. Apparently this was going to be another one of those years.This morning we are tracking the movement of hurricane Frances. While we eat breakfast at the campsite, the car radio reports that today it will blow into our vicinity. The forecast is fifty-fifty for rain with uglier weather predicted for Thursday and Friday. We fully realize that the next few days might be miserable, but we are equipped with quality rain gear, and besides, we plan to stay each night in one of the AMC huts.It is 8:30 am. The sun is now high enough that we can discern a slightly hazy, pale blue sky. We decide that we¢d be crazy not to head out in this kind of weather. We knew how inaccurate the forecasts could be, how predictions of upcoming weather could be 100% wrong. The day looks so promising, and the sunshine so strong, that I even apply a few dabs of sunscreen.The morning¢s hike takes us up the Webster Cliffs Trail. The only word to describe it is cruel. It takes us two hours to go 1 1/2 miles. The trail is so steep that we need a 5 minute rest every 30 minutes of hiking. We finally achieve the top of Webster Cliffs: the view down into Crawford Notch, directly below, is spectacular. The weather has now turned decidedly overcast, but there is no rain, and the temperature remains a comfortable 70 degrees.We continue on toward the top of Mt. Jackson (elevation 4050 feet), hiking high enough that we are now in the clouds. The light mist doesn¢t bother us at first (it¢s refreshing after the arduous climb), but then it changes to heavy mist, then rain, and the wind picks up. Our attempt to outguess the forecast is not succeeding. We encounter severe sections of rock climbing, with conditions made worse because of the wet weather. Some of the rock faces are so steep and the footholds so precarious that a mishap could send us tumbling thirty feet down the hillside. We leave the tree line behind as we travel upward. Our visibility is limited to about a hundred feet; we don¢t know we¢ve reached the summit until the trail starts down the other side. It¢s more like sensing the summit than actually seeing it.In another ten minutes we¢re back below the tree line, surprised by the protection provided by a forest of scraggly eight-foot high evergreens. We slog on for another two miles, mostly downhill, and finally reach the Mizpah Spring Hut around 3 pm. We¢ve come seven miles today and it¢s taken us six hours. That is a slow pace. Unknown to us at the time, the plus-or-minus one mile per hour rate would become a goal to strive for in the days ahead.Immediately inside the hut¢s door is a large metal grating in the floor. We obligingly stand on the grating, remove our rain gear, and make sure the collected water falls down through the holes so it doesn¢t slick up the floor. We inquire about the availability of Work for Stay and the croo responds affirmatively.This hut is about twice the size of the Galehead Hut. The building resembles a New England shingled barn with a huge eating and cooking area on the first floor and accommodations for sixty in the four bunk rooms upstairs. There¢s even private rooms for two or four, if you make the reservation early enough (like five years in advance?).Almost immediately we get to work. The first task is to sweep all the floors and straighten out all the blankets. This takes about 45 minutes. Then we wait for supper. Thirty-six guests are staying tonight. Although the supper process starts at 6:00 p.m., everyone¢s not finished until 7:15. Cleanup takes another 45 minutes; finally we eat at 8:00. There are plenty of leftovers, but to my amazement the croo doesn¢t bother to reheat any of it. Needless to say, two hours after coming out of the ovens there¢s not much heat left in any of the food. And their kitchen is not equipped with a microwave.By nine o¢clock we are in bed. We have excellent accommodations, the best we are offered during all of our nights in the huts. We are in the ¢Trail Maintainers¢ room in the attic and it¢s equipped with four bunks, same quality (?) as the guests are using downstairs. It¢s typical of an equipment storage room utilized by volunteers: all around us are axes, ropes, boxes of spikes, cleanser, propane torches, old newspapers and rumpled clothing. The croo stroll right through our ¢bedroom¢ to retrieve canned goods from the storage shelves. But the best part is the door that leads up the attic stairs ¢ it can be closed! And a good thing, too, what with 25 rambunctious teenagers among the guests tonight. We¢re also grateful that there is more heat in the attic than downstairs. Like all huts, interior warmth comes only from what is generated by cooking. The downstairs rooms are noticeably chilly, but what minimal heat exists in the hut rises up into the attic. We like it.Thursday, September 9, 2004, in the White Mountains, NHWe are becoming accustomed to the dark and rainy woods of New Hampshire, but this day dawns even more miserable than we expected. The hurricane remnants are directly overhead. The forecast is for rain all day, heavy at times, with wind gusts 20 to 40 miles per hour below the tree line and 60 mph plus above. (We mentally note that an ¢official¢ hurricane starts at 75 mph.) The temperature is about 50 degrees. We have two travel options to consider: we can leave the mountain by suffering through a two-hour hike down to the highway and then hitchhiking to the van (we would then return to the trail in one or two days), or we can continue in our original direction and march off into the storm for five hours to reach the Lakes of the Clouds Hut. We had practically convinced ourselves to leave the mountain when April said, ¢Let¢s see if we can stay here for another night.¢The croo is somewhat hesitant to let us stay because standard policy states that everyone leaves every morning, no matter what. Perhaps sensing that we didn¢t have the fortitude of thirty-year-old hikers, and noticing that the eye of the hurricane was directly upon us, they relax the regulation and grant us a day¢s reprieve from the storm. In exchange for our lengthened stay we have to wash every window and sweep every floor in the entire hut. When that¢s finished we are instructed to replace the shelf liners in the kitchen. All of our assignments are finished in three hours. It¢s just as well that we have work to do, otherwise we might have gone crazy sitting around waiting for the rain to stop.By 1 pm nearly all the hikers have left, venturing out into the storm, hopeful that they will safely make it up or down the mountain. We¢re glad we decided to go nowhere. Over three inches of rain have fallen in the last twenty-four hours. April finds a book in the hut¢s library that keeps her occupied for the next three hours. I continue writing the draft of my ¢Trail Update.¢ The two pages of blank paper that I brought are quickly filled up on both the fronts and backs. No additional writing paper is found anywhere in the hut so I ask a young girl who¢s practicing her algebra if I can use the back sides of papers she¢s done with. I agree to check her work if she wants me to. The girl is somewhat puzzled by my request but agrees to give up her sheets. She flatly states that no math check is required. I end up with eight more pages that are clean on one side. By suppertime they, too, are completely filled with my scribbly notes.