Day 290

Mountains and trees.

Venture into the interior.
New Hampshire's white mountains, attempt on the Falling Waters 9 mile loop up a gorge to a 4000 ft ridge, then down another gorge.




We were a little late getting there, and had not even considered the possibility of snow!  This was the vegetation on the path near the bottom.  But you can see the ominous sky behind the trees.

About a third of the way up we encountered rain and had not planned for that either, judging by the weather forecast, but luckily I had found two ponchos in Tim's cubby in his car, so we plopped them on and pressed on our way.

We forded streams and climbed up narrow paths, using tree-roots as steps, hanging on to other friendly trees to keep our balance at times.  And then there was snow on the ground beside the path!  I have now walked in nothing more than a vest and sweatpants in temperatures cold enough for snow!

We trekked on and on, up and up, my running fitness doing me well.  The weather grew darker and colder, and some hikers coming down advised us to turn back soon because it was still about another hour or more till the summit, and -10C on the ridge, with a whipping wind.

One lovely frenchman from Montreal described it as "seeing winter up there".  It was so strange to be trundling up an icy snowy path through conifers, not a deciduous tree in sight, struggling slightly with the altitude by then.

But we so wanted to make it, and I understood (a tiny bit) how Everest climbers must feel, those that go on and just die from the weather, because we humans are so hooked on the end result.  Tim and I decided to follow the Zen idea of enjoying the journey, not worrying about the destination, and so, a little further on, after three hours uphill, we did turn back.

The excitement occurred about halfway down.  We were at one of the fording places, standing on a flattish wet rock, when Tim stepped on to the part of the rock which sloped down to the water and began sliding towards the water, about a foot deep at the base of the rock!  He said, in true Tim-fashion, "Here I go!" in a very un-panicked voice, and I think I put out my hand which he grabbed, but of course I couldn't hold him and I just went down hard on my hip, and as I was slipping towards the river, where most of my body would have been submerged in the icy water, Tim, who had landed with both feet in the water, and still happened to be hanging on to my hand, with his quick reactions, lifted one of his feet out on to the rock and said, "I've got you!" which he had, as I landed on his foot, and then managed to clamber up with no more than a wet thigh and one wet foot, which went right in next to his!  While he, poor man, had to squelch along the rest of the way with soggy boots. So once again, my knight in shining armour saved me!

What an amazing day, and then the long drive home.