Our latest trip north was fast and furious.
We wanted to pack as much into two days as we possibly could. On our second day dawn broke to cloud coverage, some fog clearing out, only a seven percent chance of rain, and yet, it rained.
We looked out at the mountains and the sprinkling rain and laughed.
This seems to be how things roll. We already were intending to drive home late in the evening while the kids slept so that we could make the most of the day.
We'd be damned if we would be stopped by rain.
After packing up we drove out to the Kancamangus and watched as some blue sky poked through in some areas. Noting that we had missed peak foliage we admired the views as we drove across one of the most beautiful stretches of road New England has to offer.
Some patches of the road allowed us views of sun reaching out across bare trees, monstrous peaks rolling into one another, shadows of cloud shifting over deciduous trees down low giving way to conifers above.
Some patches of the road the cloud coverage filled back in and I would become pouty.
After summiting Monadnack in the clouds weeks ago I didn’t want the same experience with Mount Willard, our chosen hike for the day. It was slated to be a very doable hike for the kids with a huge pay out. If we faced clouds on the summit yet again I knew I’d be pretty bummed.
But as we came into Crawford Notch and I asked Kevin, even though I’ve already asked before, which gullies he climbed with my older brother, David, the sun had begun to make its presence known. We admired Frankenstein cliffs, knowing that the trail over the cliffs and down to Arethusa Falls is way up high on my to do list. We gaped at the gullies above on Webster, Kevin pointing out Landslide and Shoestring, and then Willey’s Slide on Mount Willey. Later, up on the summit, he’d look over at those gullies and shake his head wondering how he’d done those before. I told him he’ll do them again.
And the overcast was evaporating, the sky a lovely shade of blue with some puffy white clouds. We drove through the valley, passing the falls by the roadside, the gorgeous trestle bridges and curve of the railroad that cuts through a pass at the side of Willard like something you’d see in a movie, a scene on an old train set to the song “America,” by Simon and Garfunkel. Parking was a bit of a hassle and when we finally found a spot and got out the wind was howling through the valley and cutting through my pants. Oh man, I was so nervous I couldn’t do the hike because of the cold. I pulled my puffer on, something I was saving for the summit, and began readying our packs with Kevin. We had coats, warm hats, and mittens for the kids. Got them geared up, and headed out down the road and then across the train tracks, Willard looming above.
The hike was stunning. While we missed peak foliage, there was still a lot of leaf coverage on the trees and the ground. The colors were vibrant, white beech against the oranges, reds, and yellows of the fallen leaves, greens of the moss, crystal clear waters that we had to cross, a babbling river to our right most of the way up. But it wasn’t just the sounds, the crunch of the leaves beneath our feet, the sound of the water running over stones, the rustle of birds disturbed along the trail, or the stunning views, it was the smell that was phenomenal. This hike smelled like Christmas. I mean, truly. I have never smelled anything that was more Christmas than this trail. The only smell I’ve ever wanted to bottle more than this one is the smell of my newborns’ heads. I kept taking these deep breaths and exclaiming out loud how marvelous it smelled, how clean the air felt.
The hike was quite easy, great for families, young kids, and beginners. But it had enough variation, enough that was interesting, and a view so worthwhile that I’d say it’s a good hike for any ability level. This makes it fantastic for groups with mixed abilities. Centennial pool was a great breaking point where the kids stepped out onto the rocks on the river above a small fall and examined the waters. There were a few muddy stretches and some rock scrambling, but it was overall a pretty straightforward hike. Desmond did get tired and took a hitch the second third of the hike. He got back out of the pack for the last third and made it to the summit on his own feet.
The final stretch seemed to come from a fantasy novel.
We could see the summit as this circle of bright white light at the end of a tunnel of trees. It was literally the light at the end of the tunnel. The colors seemed muted, mossy greens and dusky browns seemed to encompass us as we worked our way toward the portal ahead. Bursting through that tunnel and out into the blinding light, we were met with an incredible view of the entirety of Crawford Notch. I remembered looking up at the cliffs of Willard as we were coming past the mountain and feeling nauseated to think I’d be standing there soon, and now I was looking down into the valley, so tightly hugged by Webster and Willey that the road and railway, parallel to each other and running the curves of the mountain bases, seemed squeezed in.
Once out on the edge I had to practice deep breathing, as I usually do, because of the height. My fear of heights can be a bit of a nuisance to a family that enjoys hiking and climbing. It sure was a breath taking view though. Mountains in the distance stood in relief against closer peaks a different shade of blueish gray. The closest mountains that loomed over the valley, Webster to our left and Willey to our right, felt like one could reach out and touch them. We even had a view of snow capped Mount Washington. I felt a deep pride welling inside me. It isn’t getting old yet, this business of moving my body up a mountain and making the summit.
I'm loving the freedom I've gained, the happiness I feel when I accomplish something that used to be impossible.
But as I reveled in these thoughts deep breathing gave way to a feeling of panic stirring in my chest and I quickly got off the point I was stood upon and retreated to the rear and flat parts of the ledge to admire the view.
Kevin took Eleanor and Desmond out one at a time to have a look at the view. Eleanor felt immensely proud and was beaming. She’s really discovering the joy of summiting a mountain and it makes my heart happy. She’s told people it can be difficult but is always worth it. Well, that’s about all I can ask for. We are so proud of them both. We ate lunch on the summit in the sun. Though a bit chilly, the wind wasn’t anywhere near as bad as it had been down in the valley. Kevin had carried up a stove and gear to make hot chocolate. Too bad his strike anywhere matches were no good. A friendly older man who had heard us giving up on our dreams of summit hot chocolate handed us a lighter. Lesson learned.
The hot chocolate tasted glorious and special, I’m pretty sure simply because of the view and the effort it took to get to that warm beverage. Eventually it was time to let go of that amazing view and start heading back down. It was actually a really nice and easy descent. I kept ahead while Kevin paced with Eleanor and carried Desmond. I kept turning to see the three people I love most in this world with tendrils of sunlight in their hair and along their hats, crisp leaves in warm hues at their feet, the trees at each side of the trail they walked upon glowing in a lowering light. My heart was full and happy.
Sailing brings us together as a family and forces us into close quarters in nature together, but hiking does this in a very different way.
There’s something about the shared physical experience in nature that really strengthens our bonds. Breathing in that fresh air, glimpses of tall mountains in the background reminding me this wasn’t Connecticut, I kept thinking about how important this is, to get the kids outside, to be outside together. Sometimes they can be reluctant. In fact, that morning Desmond had told us that he didn’t want to do another hike, it was too much for his body. Kevin and I smiled at each other, praised Desmond for expressing himself so well, told him if it became too much he could let us know, but we would try. And when we get out there, no matter how they felt about it, they always love it.
After Willard we stopped at Silver Cascade even though we didn’t really have the time. We scrambled along the rocks to the base of the falls and admired its beauty. Then Eleanor had a good slide on her bum down some wet rock and we took it as a sign it was time to head back home. We got her changed and drove into North Conway, stopping at IME at Kevin’s instance. Good thing we did because as luck would have it, we found a pair of climbing shoes in Eleanor’s size. It was some insane luck. We ended up pulling into our driveway in Connecticut at quarter after 1:00. We then stayed up until 3:00 finishing Halloween costumes the kids needed the next day. It was worth it. Like I’ve said before, when we get asked how we do all that we do, the answer is simple. We are tired and don’t get much sleep. But, hey, it’s not that I think sleep is for the weak. I love sleep. It’s that life is short and there’s too much I want to do. To be really cliché, we’ll sleep when we’re dead. Something like that.
Anyhow, all day Monday I would occasionally find myself smiling. I was thinking of New Hampshire, thinking of the mountains, craving that Christmas scent, the leaves, the fresh air, the sight of my loved ones behind me, or in front of me, moving with me, moving my body. I already miss it.
