Turning the page on Winter 2010/2011

Though Mother Nature says there are still a few weeks of winter left at various higher elevations, and I'll certainly be playing in the snow for a few more weeks this winter, I'm going to call this the official end of winter for this blog. Yep, on April 5th, a full two weeks after the calendar said it's spring and almost a month following the vernal equinox, Mountain Visions is slowly making the transition to another fine Northeastern US season; spring!

For what it's worth, while walking around Peebles Island State Park and Waterford, we did see some crocuses popping up. Spring is coming, even if it's still very much winter in many places around the region! 

Enjoy a few images from this winter's adventures!

Four Days and Four Paws: Coming Full Circle in the Northern Presidential's

Dave descending Mount Adams via the Air Line

“I didn’t mind the whiteout, it was the first time in a while my mind was clear.”

My partner said something like that after we were the only group (2 humans and a trail dog) to summit Mount Adams, New Hampshire’s second highest peak, on Saturday March 12th. Although other groups would try, with one group turning around less than 100 vertical feet from the summit as they ascended directly into the strongest headwinds, there was good reason we were the only group. It was quite warm and foggy for a winter day, upper teens to mid 20s depending on elevation, actually perfect temps for the formation of rime on everything from our gear and clothing, to our exposed hair. The winds were gusting to over 50mph, with sustained 30mph the norm. When combined with the fog and blowing snowfall, it created challenging conditions to navigate. At times visibility was only 10ft, with the average being more like 30ft. There were moments it would clear up to maybe 200ft visibility, but those moments were rare and so fleeting that you would miss them in a split second.

Colvin leading Dave up the summit of Mount Adams

 


Of note, this was Colvin’s 3rd trip to the Northern Presidential’s and his 3rd summit (2 in winter, 1 spring). His first overnight backpacking trip was at the end of March in 2010, and it was to Gray Knob. At that point, after working with him for a month, he was just trained well enough to be trusted off the leash and comfortable enough to ascend and descend a trail as steep as Lowe’s. He hadn’t yet been above treeline or experienced the adversity of the alpine world. Though all that changed in March 2010. 


Jumping ahead to March 2011, Colvin is turning into quite a trail dog. He is now carrying a loaded pack, he is fearless on steep slopes, and he isn’t afraid of 50mph winds. As a matter of fact, Colvin led the way up Lowe’s Path to Mount Adam’s almost without any trouble or hesitation, a sign of how much confidence he has gained in a year. The only spot he was uneasy was the steep icy descent off Adams 4, but I eased him down it and he was fine the rest of the day. He also led the way through quite a bit of the descent on Sunday, including a few spots that offered steep drops on the Cabin Cutoff. On a less interesting note, he went up and down the steep loft stairs at Gray Knob without any prompting. Last year I had to carry him up and down kicking and screaming.  I suppose those stairs look mighty easy after you’ve been training to climb vertical ladders.  Without a doubt he is gaining confidence and the skills to be a good trail dog for years to come. 

A rime covered Colvin ascending Lowe's Path with Dave in the background

 


As for how Dave, Colvin and I got ourselves into this:


Dave flew in from Pittsburgh Wednesday night, and we started out on a Thursday morning in snow and sleet towards NH. The drive took a little longer than I usually do it in. because of the weather and  single lane road traffic. Even so, we were in Randolph in just over 5 hours including several stops, the time was due to a few more tweaks in my perfect route. At this point, I now have all the fat trimmed from the drive, and my average speed is over 50mph. I can be in the Northern Presidential’s in under 4 hours from the Capital Region New York. It’s exactly 222 miles to the trail head. I’m pretty much in heaven with my location having access to the Gunks, Catskills, Adirondacks, Greens and Whites whenever I get the urge to visit.
 

Arriving at Lowe’s Store in Randolph at 2:20pm, the skies had held up through NH. As we put our boots on in the store, I asked the people in Lowe’s if the forecast had changed, they said, “We are supposed to be getting rain, sleet, snow but none of it has arrived yet...we'll see” Our biggest fear was having to hike up to Gray Knob in the pouring rain in 35 degree temps. If you have any outdoor experience you probably know that the absolute worst conditions are freezing rain. You get soaked, you get cold, and you can’t add insulation because you will either overheat or wet out all your warm clothes for camp. Your only option is to wear as little as possible and hike as fast you can.  We of  course had all our gear packed in waterproof sacks, in a waterproof pack liner, so we weren’t concerned about the packed gear. 


We started out on the trail in good conditions, snow bridges across all the brooks, decent snow under us. As we ascended the trail got steeper and more difficult to climb with the 50-60lb packs. I have older MSR Denali snowshoes, I was wearing the original lace-up model with my leather boots. These are great shoes and were cutting edge in 1998 when they came out, but recently MSR and Tubbs have surpassed these snowshoes in many regards. The issue with my old Denali’s is the warm wet snow was snowballing under them and they don’t have heel “televators”, which are essentially bars that level your heels (by raising them) as you ascend. Between the snow balls, my foot being back a little far in the binding and having to angle my crampon into the slope, I would sometimes walk 3ft forward and slide 4ft back on the very steep sections. From just below the Log Cabin the trail gets very steep, it levels off a bit between the cabin and 3500ft, but the last 1000ft comes pretty aggressively, and this is where I was having the most issues. Because the trail is so well traveled it also gets very icy in spots. By 4000ft I was mentally tired of carrying what I’d guess was a 60lb pack at that point with all the water drank. 


Regardless of my sliding issues we made it to Gray Knob in about 3:40 minutes. I think book time is around 3 hours, but the good news is the rain never came. We stayed fairly dry.

When we got to Gray Knob the caretaker, Garrett, was -for a caretaker- uncharacteristically unhappy to see us. I guess he assumed we were idiots for coming up in the impending weather conditions, which had been forecast for days and were forecast to continue. More than likely he assumed he would have to endure a soaking winter rain to rescue us after we did something stupid. Though because we had 3 remaining days to bag some peaks, Dave and I had little intention of doing anything more foolish than mountaineering itself. We had absolutely no plans to summit in rain coupled with 50-70mph winds, which combined feel like a fire hose was unleashed on you while standing in a freezer.

Colvin enduring a gust of wind at his back as he waits for his slower human partners catch up.

After a night of Gray Knob being pounded by winds, we got up early Friday morning and noticed a few inches of fresh wet snow, a good sign. Then we checked the forecast, and decided things were gonna get a lot worse before they got better. Dave and I went to fill up on water before the real rain started. Our only goal Friday was to not get wet or die of boredom. It rained steadily for much of the day, at times extremely heavily.


After lounging in the sleeping bags, rigging up Colvin’s harness and working on an equalizing system, a little reading and a few short walks, we managed to kill an entire day. We also did a bit of shoveling and helped keep the hut in order. We eventually cracked Garrett, who by now figured out we weren’t complete morons and that my dog was both well behaved and that I didn’t let him do as he pleased. I always say, there are very few problem dogs, only problem people with dogs that act like dogs naturally act.


Friday night we again had the place to ourselves. After a good nights sleep we woke to what appeared to be snow falling and not rain. A good sign, indeed. 

Forecast was for typical alpine summit weather 30-50+ winds, snow, fog, temps 20F colder than the valley. 


We packed our summit packs, checked the forecast once again and took off up Lowe’s Path towards Adams 4, now renamed (officially) to Abigail Adam’s. Conditions were perfect for crampons bottom to top. No need to mess with snowshoes, or bare boots. It was frozen rain soaked snow below treeline, and a mix of hard wind blown snow and mixed ice above treeline. Though not as much snow as the end of March last year, there was very little exposed rock. It was perfect crampon conditions.


I’m not sure if Dave was a little nervous at first because he asked me if I knew the way by memory. I said, I’d been up this trail and various others probably 30-40 times over the last 10 years so I definitely had an idea where I was going.  When we got to Adam’s 4, that experience and built in GPS system in the human brain took over. When we dropped over Adam’s 4 we didn’t see anymore cairns and it was full whiteout. We pulled the map and compass out, as well as the GPS. However, I knew that after Adam’s 4 we crossed a big snow field perpendicular to the fall line, essentially following a contour. This snowfield is crystal clear on a 1:24,000 resolution topo but not that clear in the typical store bought maps. I had my 1:24,000 topo printed on waterproof paper and this confirmed my memory. We took a compass bearing in the direction of Thunderstorm Junction just to be sure. 

Pushing above the Krummholz Zone

 


I’m not sure where we crossed the snowfield in relation to the cairns, we never saw them again. I believe it was below. Regardless, we hit Thunderstorm Junction as expected. It was so whited out Dave asked me if this was the summit. I laughed and said, it’s a shame you can’t see it, but it’s about .3 miles away and 300ft above us.


We got to the top of Adam’s from Thunderstorm Juntction in what seemed like record time. Between the whiteout and the howling winds you lose any concept of time or space. It’s similar to hiking at night, only without the headlamp.

Dave cresting Adams summit cone, he would be one of only 2 people and a trail dog to summit that day. Many others turned around in the face of strong winds and whiteout conditions.

I got to the summit a minute or two before Dave, waited behind a boulder to get a shot of him cresting. Then we moved as quickly as possible to get to the leeward side of the summit and drop down a few feet. Nothing makes a better wind break than a mountain itself, and we rested behind some boulders. The wind and snow were still blowing, but it was a lot warmer and more protected where we were.

Dave added some layers, I got out my face protection. It really wasn’t cold up there, though with the wind the temps were about 0F. I warmed Colvin’s face and ears, gave him some doggie energy bars and we were back off to the summit and down the Airline Trail with plans to summit Mount Madision as well. 


On the descent we met the only other group we saw all day, they were really just 150 or so vertical feet from the summit when we saw them. They asked me how far, and I said 10 minutes -maybe- with the wind coming at them perhaps more. My understanding is they turned around just below it.

We intersected with the Gulfside Trail, and ended up going a little too far and wound up at the top of the King Ravine trail. Again, I knew where we were based on having climbed the King Ravine and remembering it’s exit from the ravine. We cut across the terrain back to where we needed to be and started our descent to the Madison Springs Hut.

Dave is repacking for the descent as we hide behind a boulder on the "sheltered" side of the mountain. You may notice the blowing streaks of snow?

As we descended down towards the Madison Springs Hut, which is closed in winter, Dave lost a crampon. It was at this point I was beginning to become more concerned with Colvin. He had no hood or hat, and he’d now been in 50mph winds and 0F windchills for several hours. I periodically rewarmed his ears and face with my hands but he was getting cold and the winds were getting no less extreme.

I wanted to ascend Madison and I am certain we could have done it. I’m certain Colvin could have made it, but there is a point to where you have to consider every ones safety, and Colvin had done awesome to this point. I did not want to push my luck and turn this positive learning experience into something negative. The rationale behind this was while the wind was at our backs up Madison, it would be in our faces for almost 3 miles back to Gray Knob. Head winds are colder and more dangerous, and it’s why people who a lost instinctively walk with their backs to the wind despite needing to go in the other direction to get to safety.

Dave and Colvin retreating to the leeward side of Mount Adams to escape the wind

Because we would be in whiteouts, possibly getting dangerously close to the top of the King Ravine headwall; and because Colvin, while having claws and directional paw pads (like climbing skins) didn’t actually have steel crampons, I decided to rope him up. Short roping him turned out to be unnecessary, as we stayed well south of the headwall, and the terrain wasn’t quite as icy as it was in other spots. It was good practice for both of us using a tied off Kiwi coil and his Ruff Wear Doubleback technical climbing harness. 


After we turned around just above Madison Springs hut we returned via a combination of the Gulfside trail and various trail-less maneuvers that eventually got us to the intersection of Lowe’s Path and the Spur Trail. By this point we were pretty confused as to our actual location, though I wouldn’t go so far as to say lost. Finding that sign was a nice thing since many signs and cairns were either covered in snow or not visible beyond a few dozen feet. 


Although the Spur Trail option was more direct and got us to the safety of treeline faster, I thought Lowe’s was the safer option. People often get lost on Spur and wonder towards and into the King Ravine. Or they fall and slide into the King Ravine. More importantly, finding the entrance to the Spur trail at treeline is difficult. There have been times I have ascended via the Spur only to return and find my tracks completely gone, spending time and energy dodging spruce traps looking for the entrance.

Unlike out west, getting to treeline in the east isn’t really the goal unless you are in a survival situation. You need to find a trail that takes you down, or at least a trail entrance to below treeline. Our forest are too thick, which is why bushwhacking here is no small undertaking.  Add in spruce traps and 6 feet of snow underfoot and you actually have a situation where getting to the trees is a real safety problem in itself.


So we started down Lowe’s and took a bearing, then we spotted some cairns and were moving quite quickly without the need of the compass and map, so we thought. Something didn’t seem right to me, and it turned out later Dave said the same thing. It just seemed like we eventually started going in the wrong direction as the wind subsided some, and we never hit our landmarks. Of course my altimeter was way off, I hadn’t calibrated it in hours. The weather was all over the place with various fronts passing through playing havoc on the barometric pressure. So at this point I wasn’t relying on it for elevation. It turned out because the pressure had changed so much, it was off by almost 200ft at the end of the day. This is EXTREMELY rare for my Suunto Vector, and a sign of how quickly weather fronts pass through the Presidential’s. It’s also a real life example of why this is the most extreme small mountain range on earth! Fronts just pummel through the region causing massive changes in pressure and winds so intense that people often accuse me of lying about them. Yet, as the caretaker remarked when I commented on the 55mph winds forecast, “just a typical day above treeline in March.” I laughed, not at his statement but at the ridiculousness of that fact. 55mph is the norm, 70 and 100mph not uncommon. What is uncommon is a blue sky summit day without winds! 

Dave traversing a snowfield towards Thunderstorm Junction. Visibility is actually better than it appears, we can see cairn to cairn

By the time we got to what was essentially the end of the Spur trail above treeline, we realized without a doubt we were not on Lowes as we could now see perhaps 200ft. We cut left (west) into the wind after the last cairn and realized we were way off as we crossed what was a fairly steep and icy snow field headed to where we thought we should be going. This was the correct direction and had we continued on that bearing we would have eventually hit Lowe’s, but at this point we were a half mile from Lowe’s because the Spur and Lowe’s wishbone away from each other. We pulled out the map, compass and GPS. Got our coordinates and tried to figure out where exactly we were. Unfortunately, my 1:24,000 map while having the UTM 1000m grid overlay had degrees and minutes on the edges.  I don’t know why this was the case, as I use UTM almost exclusively with my compasses UTM corner ruler. This created a little problem that had to be solved. On the other hand I have no tools to measure degrees and minutes other than eyeballing them. UTM and the corner ruler became a useless tool and I had to get the GPS into the correct units (from UTM to degrees minutes) so we could roughly verify where we already figured out we probably were. You aren’t lost until you have no idea where you are. Even in a whiteout if you trust you compass bearing you will generally be able to get somewhere near your desired point. 

Dave crossing the snowfield below Sam Adams as Colvin waits for me to catch up

 


Dave roughly figured out we were someplace around the Spur at treeline using degrees and minutes, and I looked around and said I thought the King Ravine was due east from our position. If this was the case, the best thing to do was actually head towards the ravine at treeline, then backtrack west along the trees till we found the Spur Trail. 


Colvin was very cold at this point, laying down in a ball on the icy slope trying to not slide down, as we were all  taking the fall force of the winds that we had now turned back into. I told Dave we needed to head for the trees and the edge of the ravine and figure things out from there. 

Colvin resting on an icy slope behind a leeward windbreak below the summit of Mount Adams

Once in the trees the temps jumped 20F instantly as the wind ceased to be a factor. I could see the edge of the ravine and I knew the trail was maybe 500ft from the edge of the ravine lip. So we began searching. Once in the trees, snowshoe and boot tracks hang around a bit longer. We spotted what we thought was the trail and started to follow it, shortly after we found the snowshoe tracks and what felt to surely be a trail underneath. 


Descent was quick and effortless. We stopped by the Knights Castle hoping for views of the ravine. Nothing to be seen.


Reaching the intersection of Gray Knob trail, I stopped by Crag Camp and spoke with some members of the group that had just missed the summit. They were a nice group of French Canadian’s, they really liked Colvin and we chatted for a while.  It turned out they were a mostly inexperienced group and most turned around at Adams 4, others made it further. As we stood there, golden sunlight briefly illuminated the valley below, and the King Ravine appeared in front of us. They took their cameras out, happy to capture a fleeting view. Moments later it was gone! 


I hiked back to Gray Knob where for the first time in days we would have to be social and share space with many others. I think about 12 people were up there, plus another dog. The dogs owners were experienced hikers and knew Colvin (the mountain) and liked Colvin the dog.  Many other friendly people were at the hut that night as well. Losing our abundant space was tempered by the friendly atmosphere. So friendly in fact that two guys shared their water with us, saving us what I consider the longest “flat” .2 miles on the world to a spring serving up perhaps some of the worlds best unfiltered spring water. 


Sunday I figured we’d sleep in a bit and head down around 11am. Almost everyone else was up at 6-7am, so I woke Dave up, he was a bit shocked I was out of bed before 9am. We ate breakfast, packed and were on the trail by 10am. 


I really didn’t want to descend Lowe’s, which if I haven’t already mentioned is probably my least favorite trail in the Presidential’s for many reasons. Primarily it’s unscenic, secondly it’s a heavily traveled trade route to get to the shelters, and as such it’s heavily traveled by day hikers because it’s packed down and easier hiking. I actually haven’t hiked Lowe’s in years except during the winter months. I was thinking Spur Trail to King Ravine trail, Garrett who by this point almost seemed a little sad to see us go, and even complimented Colvin as being a really good dog, mentioned the Hink’s trail. I’d actually never hiked the Hink’s trail in all my years up there. So I said, sure lets go for it.

Colvin at the end of the Hincks Trail

Doing Hincks wasn’t the easy route home. Hincks is steep, and the trail  was unbroken crusty snow. Plus, because it was less packed down, the trail was higher into the tree canopy. Every few feet I’d dump snow down my back from the spruce bows hanging over the trail. We stayed dry for 3 days, but between the wet falling snow and the snow that fell off the trees, I was soaked by the time we got to the Log Cabin. Descent was pretty slow and deliberate. Eventually we hooked up with the Randolph Path and the Cabin cutoff which trends uphill will rolling from Hink’s to Lowes. In the end it took us 3 hours, several breaking trail to get to the Log Cabin. I mention the 3 hours because Log Cabin is perhaps 15 minutes of glissades from Gray Knob. Why? We were hiking out and doing something different is more of an adventure than glissading down a trade route.  Dave was all for it to. A good chance to see a little more of the topography of the White Mountains and add some mileage to the trip that lost a day to the rain. 


So we took 3 hours to go what could have taken 15 minutes and still had 2 miles and 2000ft to descend. In a total of 4 hours we were changing at Lowe’s Store though the lower trail had changed a lot over 3 days. Gone were the snow bridges over the small water crossings, as well as several inches of snow cover. Replacing it was several feet of slushy snow like material. 

Dave descending the Hincks trail

The drive home was pretty fast, though we ended up driving back via North Conway...your first hint that you are taking a bad route if that is the way you go. It took us 4:20 from North Conway which adds 40 miles and almost an hour to the drive, total drive time 5:30 from the trail head or an hour and a half more. Though we thought the side trip to EMS or IME might might be worth it for some good as-is or consingment merchandise, and the lack of sales tax was inviting. Sadly despite the large store, I have better selection locally and NY needs my tax money more than NH. 


As always it was a fun adventure, and I appreciate Dave making the commitment to come all the way from Pittsburgh to join me. It was obviously very rewarding to safely summit when others couldn’t, it was also very rewarding to see how far Colvin had come in just a year. Caney was the ultimate K9 mountaineer, but it looks like Colvin is going to do his best become a great K9 mountaineer himself! 

The Northeast US Top Five Long Distance Day Hikes

I often get asked what the best hike is, what the hardest hike is, and what my favorite hike is. There are a few hikes in the region that require tremendous effort and offer great reward for that effort, and coincidentally happen to be among my favorite hikes.

I'm much less a mileage guy than an elevation, weather, scenery, aesthetics, and technical terrain guy. After all, if you just want to ambulate a long distance, put away the hiking boots and all the gear and go run a marathon. A hike like the King Ravine or Huntington Ravine, Acadia's Beehive and Precipice Trails, or an Adirondack slide such as Eagle or the Gothics north face is much more enjoyable than walking endlessly over well footed trails while buried in a tree tunnel. As such, all the hikes on this list require you to either battle the weather or ascend steep and rugged terrain, in some cases requiring you to use your hands as much as your feet. None of the hikes on this list are contrived, or require any sort of far out antics to complete. They are simply real, hard, rugged hikes through some impressive wild places. Most importantly all are aesthetically pleasing, making them more then a sufferfest without reward!

1. Great Range Traverse, High Peaks Wilderness, Adirondack Forest Preserve, NY. The Adirondacks are generally not the type of mountains you can string multiple summits together, but the Great Range makes up for that. The elevation gain and distance are very similar to the Presidential Traverse in NH, with one exception, on the Great Range elevation is gained and lost in massive chunks over just half the trip, while the Presidential Traverse spreads it out quite evenly over the 20 miles. The minimum Great Range traverse is 22 miles long and gains and loses 18,500ft. 11.5 miles are along the spine of 9 peaks over 4,000 feet in elevation. Over those 11.5 miles just under 15,000ft is gained and lost. Because of trail head relocations and the loss of a loop option, very few people actually start at the true start. The true traditional traverse adds 2 smaller peaks, as well as the unofficial but spectacular Pyramid Peak (which is technically considered part of the Gothics, and in my opinion one of the top 5 views in the Adirondacks). The total for the true traverse is 22 miles and 19,700ft gained and lost. For the hard men and women, a slightly more contrived addition of Mt Skylight can be added making the hike 23.2 miles with over 21,900 feet of gain and loss.

In the winter the Range has an almost 0% success rate because the steep slopes and deep snow drifts are ordinary facts. Generally speaking, even the most fit hikers and mountaineers would have trouble doing the Great Range in mid winter due to the deep snow and short durations of good weather in the alpine zone. Some of the trails in winter border on technical mountain terrain, with slopes steep enough that run out falls are entirely possible. In the summer, it is water that becomes a limiting factor high on the Range.

Summary of ADK Range options:

1) Traditional traverse (includes Rooster Comb, Hedgehog, and Gothics): 22 miles, 19,700ft G/L
2) Short traverse loop: 22 miles, 18,500ft G/L
3) Long Traverse (includes Gothics, Skylight, Rooster Comb and Hedgehog): 23.2 miles, 21,900ft G/L

Descending Mt Adams summit cone, Northern Presidential Range, NH.

2. Presidential Traverse, Presidential Range, White Mountains, NH. The Presi Traverse is perhaps one of the most difficult hikes possible because of the weather. Although much of the trail has good footing over trails like the Gulfside and Crawford Path, nearly 15 miles of it is exposed above treeline and susceptible to some of the most consistently dramatic weather on earth. So consistent is the drama, that it is as inconsistent as you could ever dream of (you know, like an enigma wrapped in a Pandora's Box). Weather aside, the full traverse (including all summits from Madison to Webster) still involves over 23 miles and 19,000ft of gain and loss. Assuming you climb all the summits and leave the well footed trails on the spine of the range, even if the weather is perfect, a true rarity, your feet will most likely feel like you beat them with a meat cleaver at the end of your hike.

Franconia Ridge, Pemigewasset Loop, NH. Mt's Liberty and Flume prominent in background.

3. Pemigewasset Wilderness Loop, Pemigewasset Wilderness, White Mountains, NH. The Pemi loop is longer than all the rest by almost 10 miles, but it has a unique (dis)advantage of having several miles of hiking done on an old railroad grade. This loop is really more about mileage than any of the others, but the scenery is so spectacular I had to include it. The basic Pemi loop gained and loses 19,400ft over 31.5 miles. The book time for this hike is a mere 20 hours, and that assumes you are hiking it in sections. However, the grades are less steep then some of the other hikes on this list, and the bulk of above treeline hiking is over one of the most heavily used and well footed trails in the White Mountains. While the Franconia Range does take the brunt of bad weather and high winds coming from the east, you spend significantly less time above and significantly more time close to the edge of treeline for weather to be an overwhelming factor in success or failure of this trip in comparison to the Presidentials, or even the Great Range. That said, many people have under-prepared for this trip, had to drop off tens of miles from the trail head and beg for a ride, or worse walk 20 miles over highways and roads to get back to their car. I've read many a trip report of people sleeping in ditches on the side of I-93 because of poor preparation and fitness. It's fine line between moving fast and light, and being under-prepared on this loop as a day hike. While the Pemi is the biggest mileage hog and least technical hike on the list, it isn't without it's aesthetic bonuses. The Franconia and Bond Ranges in themselves are among the most heavily hiked, and most beautiful ranges in the Northeastern US. Combining the two over a very long day in the mountains makes for a phenomenal double marathon like adventure.

Options for the Pemi Loop:

1) Minimal Loop: 31.5 miles, 19,400ft G/L
2) All Spur Summits Loop (includes Galehead, North Twin, West Bond): 36 miles, 21,000ft G/L

Ascending Slide Mountain on an exposed slab from the Cornell Slide Col, Burroughs Range, NY.

4. Burroughs Range Loop, Slide Mountain Wilderness, Catskill Forest Preserve, NY. The Catskills are actually a rugged eroded plateau that would look more like the high desert of Arizona and Southern Utah if the mountains were devoid of trees. The Burroughs loop is a ~13.5 mile loop, originating at Woodland Valley in the heart of the Catskills. The circuit ascends the spine of a range of 3500+ft peaks that include Whittenburgh, Cornell, and the Slide Mountain (one of only two 4000ft peaks outside of the Adirondacks, and the highest in the Catskills). The basic loop has a gain/loss of nearly 10,000ft. However, there are two optional ways to naturally extend the trip:

1) do an out and back spur to Panther Mountain adding 5 miles and 3,000ft gain and loss. Making the total distance 18.5 miles and 12,500 gained and lost.

2) spotting a second car at Fox Hollow trail head and hiking over Panther Mountain adding 6.25 miles and 4200ft gained and lost. The later makes the hike a total of 14,000ft over 19.75 miles, but also eliminates one of my favorite things about the Burrough's, the fact it is a true loop with a campground start!  Yes, you can wake up in your tent at 7am, hike the Burrough's and be back at your campsite eating a gourmet meal later that evening.

With even the hardest option on the Burroughs still being significantly easier than either the Great Range or the Presidential Traverse, should the Burroughs make 4th on this list? Absolutely. This isn't purely about difficulty or distance or elevation, it's also about the aesthetics of the hike. The Burroughs is significant for the fact that outside of the alpine regions of NY, VT, and NH, this is in my opinion the most scenic, fun, and historically significant hike that would probably please both the hard men and women who merely enjoy suffering on the trail, and those just looking for a fun challenge while still being able to enjoy themselves. Doing the minimal loop gives you unparalleled 360 views from various vantage points of the entire Catskill Forest Preserve. Beyond that, the Burrough's loop also includes enough steep climbing and scrambling to keep most hikers who prefer technical hiking terrain happy with plenty of chances to use their hands. Besides, how many great loop hikes of this magnitude start and end at a state run drive in campground?

View south towards the Ashokan Reservoir from Sugarloaf Mountain, Devils Path.

5. Devil's Path, Catskill Forest Preserve, NY. The Devil's Path is consistently rated by backpacker as one of America's hardest day hikes. It's over 25 miles long, and while it can hardly be called traversing the spine, it certainly is a direct path over many of the higher peaks in the Catskills. The DP gains and looses almost 20,000ft over it's length, much of it is lost in giant chunks of a few thousand feet at a time as it dips from long flat 3000+ foot summits down into steep narrow hollows (commonly called passes or gaps out west) and immediately reascending the next mountain without any drawn out approach. Along with the challenging ascents and descents, the DP also shares similar rugged hands and feet terrain as the Burroughs Range loop. Scenically, however, the Devil's Path simply isn't on par with it's neighbor, and for this reason it falls to 5th place on my list. Most of the scenery on the Devil's Path comes on the eastern half, and in my opinion, it is largely unspectacular from Mink Hollow onward making the entire second half of the hike fairly monotonous, and much more of a grind than it needs to be. In terms of shear difficulty, however, the Devil's Path could easily rank in the top 3.

For those that prefer even more technical hikes without all the unnecessary miles on the trail, keep on the lookout for a followup of my most challenging "They Call THAT a Trail" hikes.

If you have an alternative to my top five feel free to drop me a comment or send an email!

Man falls 1500ft down King Ravine and survives!

When I arrived at Gray Knob Sunday afternoon my friend Juliane, the caretaker for the RMC hut (or cabin as she calls it), had a note on the board to the effect of, "hiked up Spur trail to look for someone." I was surprised she hadn't been back by sunset, and after stepping out for a few minutes, I walked in on her quickly gathering up supplies for a possible rescue. Rope, crampons, ice axe, food, water, clothing.

Having arrived at Gray Knob around 5:30 and done nothing but snack and get water from the spring in nearly 2 hours, participating in the rescue sounded like potential fun, in lieu of doing nothing for the rest of the night, and at the very least an excuse to do some more hiking. Of course I had a relatively raw "trail dog in training" with me, so I was hesitant to volunteer or ask if I could come along, but Juliane mentioned that if I was interested to head over to Crag Camp.

I quickly repacked my pack to head over to Crag. I actually wasn't really intending to summit anything harder than Adams 4 since this was really just a training hike for Colvin and a chance to socialize him at the shelters, so I left my ice axe at home with the idea that if it got to the point I needed the axe then I wasn't going to continue with an untested young dog; otherwise I was fully prepared to go above treeline and assist. Colvin was the wild card, he'd never been above 3000ft, never been above treeline, never hiked entirely at night on unmarked terrain, and never been in 40+ mph winds in below freezing temperatures with limited visibility.

I hiked the 4/10 mile to Crag, but I still wasn't completely sure what happened, who was in need of rescue, or where the person was. The reports were he fell about 200 yards from Thunder Storm Junction, which seemed odd because it isn't all that steep in that immediate area. I believe from piecing things together that he began his fall from a point 200 yards below Thunder Storm junction on the Gulfside Trail, most likely on the edge of the ravine.

In any case, at the time they (Al, Juliane and the RMC) were under the impression he had fallen to above or just below the headwall of the King Ravine, having been up Spur towards that area a few times over the years, I felt like it would be fine to join Juliane and Al (an RMC official). Al was out hiking for the day when the rescue call came in, and he decided to put a headwall rim rescue together before the weather deteriorated. Since we were already at 4400 feet we had a sizable time advantage on AVSAR and Fish and Game teams who were ascending from Appalachia 3000ft below, over possibly unbroken trails.

Of course, Al wasn't prepared for an above treeline rescue either, but thanks to the benevolence of the people staying at Crag Camp he was able to assemble everything needed without any effort at all. If the world was filled with hikers, climbers and mountaineers, it would be a very Utopian society.

By the time we all were at Crag Camp, which is on the edge of the King Ravine at about 4400ft, the weather was beginning to deteriorate as forecast. The goal was to hike up and see if we could reach the stranded hiker from above. With Colvin along, and me lacking an ice axe for descent into or around the edge of the ravine, I figured I'd hike up as far as it seemed safe and turn around as conditions dictated.

Ultimately we made really good time to about 5000ft where Colvin got a bit scared, and the conditions just weren't favorable for a 7 month old dog with no alpine experience. I flashed my headlamp to let them know, and they stopped for a second to clear things. I descended down with Colvin over the wind blown crust, but we quickly lost our tracks due to the winds. I could actually see the headlamps at Crag from my location, so I pulled out the compass, took a bearing and subtracted 10*. The reason I subtracted was I did not want to walk into the ravine, and Crag lies on the edge of the King Ravine, meaning if I headed directly for it I'd be in deep shit. Somehow we actually intersected the Spur Trail at treeline where the wind hadn't blown our tracks away, I really wasn't looking forward to bushwhacking through the spruce without snowshoes had we not hit the trail.

Once back at Crag I could see the headlamps of the New Hampshire Fish and Game SAR team approaching from below. They were at this point about 1/3-1/2 way up the Great Gully of King Ravine, which at many times is an NEI 1-2 technical ice/snow climb. I'm not sure what the late seasons deep snow conditions made it at this time, but it's still more than an easy walk up, and I was certainly impressed at how quickly they were ascending.

Juliane and Al hadn't gone up much further, and got down to Crag about 10 minutes after Colvin and I did. The conditions were rough for them above 5000ft, with the combination of strong winds and spindrift causing limited visibility.

The hiker, Douglas Soholt from Colorado, was underprepared, without an ice axe or real crampons. From what I understand he did have the very popular Kahtoola Microspikes that some feel are crampon replacements. Unfortunately these don't provide the aggressive traction needed on steep terrain with ice or windblown crust. In reality they are slightly more or less effective than a dogs claws on such terrain. Had he had an ice axe he might have been able to self arrest following the fall, but arresting is a hit or miss proposition dependent on snow conditions and steepness (not to mention practice), real crampons might have prevented the fall altogether, but that isn't a guarantee either.

Although he was fortunate to be relatively uninjured even though he fell several hundred feet (reports state almost 1500ft), which is truly amazing, he was unable to extract himself because he could neither climb up nor down without assistance. With the help of Fish and Game SAR he was able to walk out with only a minor head injury (and probably a big bill from the state of New Hampshire).

“It is still very much winter above treeline. Although many trails above treeline are not viewed as technical terrain, they are very icy. And, as this incident shows, unexpected accidents can have dire consequences," Gralenski said. "Micro crampons have their place in hiking, but it is not on the Gulfside Trail or any other alpine trails near technical terrain. Traditional crampons and an ice axe, not ski poles, should be standard equipment in this area. If Soholt had these two pieces of gear, he most likely would have been able to prevent his fall or self-arrest immediately after the fall. Not having them could have easily been a fatal mistake.”

...

The underlying warning this incident carries for other hikers is the importance of being prepared for the unexpected in the outdoors. “They were not planning on hiking in technical terrain and packed accordingly.”
- Lt. Douglas Gralenski, NH Fish and Game

As someone who has taken a decent fall from the top of a relatively easy climb, I can't emphasize enough how being prepared for the worst reasonable case is important, while also not taking the ease of the endeavor too lightly. Monday morning, Juliane and I were talking about how these little mountains are genuinely hard even in good conditions despite diminutive elevations, and in winter this is exponentially so for the underprepared. I'm glad the hiker was ok, surviving a fall of 1500ft over the lip of the headwall is just pure luck, he'll have a hell of a tale to tell when he gets back to the land of 14ers!

I've already noticed the forums and news sources buzzing with armchair mountaineers and safety Nazis. Bottom line, he made a mistake in gear selection, he fell on not too steep terrain, then continued falling a long way most likely with the help of slick Gore-tex and got really lucky, he became stranded, and finally he allowed the professionals to come in and extract him safely. No need to shut the mountains down, no need to tell him he's stupid, or complain how SAR volunteers and/or paid professional rescuers are put in harms way by others carelessness. The best thing to do from these mistakes is learn. Microspikes are not crampons, and while an ice axe probably isn't needed most of the time, it's a damn good idea to carry one if you plan to venture above treeline above areas with extended run outs or drop offs.

Ironically it appears Mr. Soholt is a registered guide in the state of Maine, a certified wilderness first responder (WFR), and leads or has lead winter hiking and backpacking trips. Those don't sound like the credentials of someone who doesn't take these outings seriously.

All in all Sunday was a productive day, and thankfully so. Monday morning turned out to be precisely as forecast 30+mph winds, with a mix of rain and sleet. Pure nastiness at it's best. When I woke up to this, after a night of constant winds, I knew there was no chance of hiking up to Adams 4, we were not doing anything but packing our gear and glissading down as quickly as possible.



For Colvin it was his hardest hike yet. Sunday he hiked about 6 miles, which wasn't a best for him (he has done 8), but he also ascended just under 4000ft with a total gain loss of almost 5000ft. In total he hiked 9 miles, and gained and lost 8000 vertical feet over 2 days. It was also his first time above treeline, first time hiking at night, and highest point he has reached. Not to mention his first overnight trip, and he was very well behaved. He ended up sleeping next to me on his own mattress after I traded him my Primaloft jacket for the down sleeping bag he decided was specially designed for Border Collies. In the morning he didn't want me to put the mattresses away. Like Caney, I believe he realizes how special the RMC shelters are for dogs, and how much fun New Hampshire is for an trail ready Border Collie.



Interestingly enough, the first time I met a Border Collie on the trail was in fact in NH at Garfield Ridge shelter in 1998. I was sleeping outside the shelter to get away from the symphony -or rather cacophony- of snoring, and when I got up to pee, the Border Collie decided my bag was abandoned. Upon my return he, along with his beanie baby, were sound asleep inside my bag. As it turned out his human companion was using the fleece dog bag since it was so warm, and now the BC was bag less. I threw him out of my bag but made a note that those were cool dogs! 12 years later they are still the coolest dogs on the trail, and seemingly designed for New Hampshire's rugged terrain!

Revised book depicts natural ‘killer’

While researching the recently certified world land wind speed record, I came across this excellent article, published in the University of Montana's Kaimin student paper, about the second edition of what is a really good book that I first read not too long after it's initial release.

Loving history novels, biographies, weather, and stories of adventure -even ones that end in disaster- "Not Without Peril: 150 Years of Misadventure on the Presidential Range of New Hampshire" puts it all together for me.

Although this is not a book specifically about mountaineering, like most good adventure novels, "Not Without Peril" is filled with simple mistakes that mean the stark difference between life and death in the mountains. Of course, even though the Presidential Range and it's surrounding peaks are not "high mountains", the weather and conditions are fierce, they offer technical ascent options, and as this book illustrates; are big enough to get you killed.

by Justin Franz | January 27, 2010 | Montana Kaimin

You would think the experience of being a teenager and carrying a dead man down a mountain, pushing on his lifeless skin to see that “it does not rebound, it does not press back,” would deter anyone from returning to such a place.

But Nicholas Howe has returned to Mount Washington time and time again, accepting the fact that death is simply part of life in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. He tells this tale in his book, “Not Without Peril: 150 Years of Misadventure on the Presidential Range of New Hampshire.”

Originally published in 2000, the book has been reprinted by Appalachian Mountain Club Books for its 10-year anniversary. Its return is no surprise, because the Boston Globe called the original one of the 100 essential books about New England, due to Howe’s second-to-none research of events going back to the first ascent of the mountain in 1638.

But you don’t have to be a native New Englander or history buff to be engulfed by Howe’s story of mistakes and “misadventures” on the tallest peak in the East.

Topping out at 6,288 feet, Mount Washington may seem like an anthill, even compared to the peaks around Missoula. But what makes it deadly is the weather.

Due to its location — at the convergence of multiple weather patterns from the Gulf, South Atlantic and Northwest — this mountain is known for its constantly changing weather. The fact that the mountain serves as a roadblock to weather patterns going through the region probably doesn’t help. All of this combines to set many records, including one of the highest surface winds ever recorded at 231 miles per hour.

With such environmental extremes, it is no wonder why National Geographic magazine called it “the killer next door.”

The mountain lives up to its fatal reputation: There were 140 known deaths occurring on the mountain between 1849 and 2008.

Most of the notable deaths are covered in Howe’s almost 300-page book that serves as both historic record and adventure novel. These include tragic events, such as when a father and his two daughters were marooned on an exposed ledge for an entire night, resulting in the death of one of the children (by dawn, they belatedly realized they were in sight of shelter).

But the most trying and startling story is that of the death of MacDonald Barr in August 1986. Hiking with his son and a German exchange student, the three were marooned atop Mount Madison, one of the lesser-known summits in the White Mountains. Running for help, the exchange student came upon an Appalachian Mountain Club shelter and crew, who sprang into action to do everything they could to save the two boys. But they had to make the decision of life or death for Barr, questioning if it was worth risking the lives of the rescue crew to save another.

With a hut full of hikers, the four-person crew had nowhere else to go to discuss the matter except a women’s bathroom. Cooped up in a small bathroom stall, they made the decision that would determine if a man would die.

“Even in the best circumstances imaginable, even on a walking path in the valley with fair skies and sweet breezes, the four members of the Madison crew would have difficulty managing a half-mile litter carry by themselves,” Howe wrote. “In the cold and dark and rain and rocks and wind, they would have no chance at all …. All of these thoughts were in the women’s bathroom, and even though not all of them were said out loud, the hut crew knew that they’d decided.”

But even with these sobering stories of death and pain, Howe doesn’t lessen the attraction of the White Mountains. Their beauty remains strong in the mind of the reader, but they must be respected and not underestimated. It’s that message of respect for the elements and mountains that stays with the reader long after the final page.

“Not Without Peril: 150 Years of Misadventure on the Presidential Range of New Hampshire” is $18.95 and can be ordered directly from the Appalachian Mountain Club at http://www.outdoors.org.

justin.franz@umontana.edu

Original Article: Revised book depicts natural ‘killer’

Live Free or Die In Fear of Rescue

Yes, it seems this is in fact the new state motto of New Hampshire. I suppose the state was in need of a makeover after their entire identity was wiped out when the "Old Man" of the mountains died, following years on life support and steel feeding tubes, bonded by epoxy and wire.

Many times have I been asked what my goals in the backcountry were. Sure I have better answers but usually the first thing that pops into my head is to never need to be rescued. It sounds simple, but the reality is that it's a loftier goal than one would think. It doesn't take a lot to get hurt, lost, bogged down by bad weather. It's the reason we go out there, to challenge ourselves, while enjoying the solitude of nature.

I actually agree with both the premise, and the actual intent of the law outlined in the article below. And it seems that the people in this article should have payed some of the bill. How in Gods name do you spend 3 days on Mount Washington, and then go for the summit? Does anyone else feel like that kid was camping? Who blames a blaze on a rescue, did they have a map? And how do you miss a trail by 50ft and end up spending 3 nights on a mountain? Go up, or go down for god sakes. That said, enforcement of the law seems completely arbitrary. For instance, often you will change plans on the fly, or create plans IN THE BACKCOUNTRY. This is part of going into the wilderness and escaping the real world. This doesn't make you negligent or reckless. I've often "base camped" places and created my hikes in the backcountry. Having a hard set itinerary is great, but conditions change, and minor injuries change plans. So if you don't have a "flight plan" filed you foot a bill? I find it hard to believe that the idea that wilderness travel needs to be as rigid as air travel is not complete nonsense.

Taking a wrong turn happens in the backcountry. Missing your return time happens. Underestimating trail conditions and taking longer than expected just happens.

The rigidity and arbitrary nature of New Hampshire law means, I can no longer take a side trail, a detour, and I can't choose to bushwhack back because if something happens to me I'm going to foot the bill. Edward Abbey, the great American philosopher and conservationist, would be rolling in his unmarked desert grave if he heard of this nonsense.

"A venturesome minority will always be eager to set off on their own, and no obstacles should be placed in their path; let them take risks, for godsake, let them get lost, sunburnt, stranded, drowned, eaten by bears, buried alive under avalanches - that is the right and privilege of any free American." -Edward Abbey

Now let me tell you the flip side. I realize New Hampshire's alpine mountains are a mere 4000-6000ft, in terms of elevation they are a joke when compared to "real" mountains around the world, but the weather is actually brutal and unstable at times (as in often), and the result is woefully unprepared hikers. Elevation is misleading, a 5000ft mountain in the Arctic is much higher in relative terms than a 5000ft mountain at the equator. There are many reasons for this, but I won't bore you. Similarly, a 4000ft mountain range in a part of the world which sits in the path of multiple converging storm fronts is far more fierce than a range that has weeks on end of stable weather. The fact is, I have seen people with nothing more than a Poland Spring bottle, cotton clothes and a shirt tied around their waist, hiking above treeline on a day when we previously were pounded by storm force winds, and brutal cold. These conditions can turn for the worse at any time, and often do.

These people are far more likely to be unprepared for self rescue and/or survival in deteriorating conditions. They have no food, no shelter (shelter can simply mean adequate clothing), no navigation aids (maps, compass, altimeter, or headlamp), and they are oblivious to the dangers. Ignorance is truly blissful for them.

Accidents happen to all hikers and climbers at some point. Most accidents are minor, most times self extraction is possible, but occasionally help is needed, and people shouldn't be afraid to contact SAR or to wait for rescue if it is needed. These laws, or more aptly their enforcement, make an unwillingness to ask for help a reality. The law should be specific, if you are truly unprepared, truly lacking the equipment and skills required for your endeavor you should pay the actual cost of rescue. Not for the volunteers time, or regular working hours of state or federal rescuers. This would allow the state to recoup legitimate expenses, but not cause a prepared hiker to pay a bill. Likewise, there should be a panel setup to determine in certain terms whether the rescued was negligent or not.

New Hampshire's current guidelines are totally bogus, and create an unsafe environment for everyone involved. No, Daniel Webster, there is no longer a sign that says: "In the mountains of New Hampshire men are made," those days died with the Old Man.

Hikers in NH must be prepared -- or pay for rescue

By Norma Love, Associated Press Writer | October 29, 2009

CONCORD, N.H. --Stranded with a sprained ankle on a snow-covered mountain, Eagle Scout Scott Mason put his survival skills to work by sleeping in the crevice of a boulder and jump-starting evergreen fires with hand sanitizer gel.

He put plastic bags inside his boots to keep his feet dry as he sloshed through mountain runoff hidden beneath waist-deep snow. After three cold days last April, rescue crews spotted him hiking toward the summit of Mount Washington, the Northeast's highest mountain.

New Hampshire officials praised his resourcefulness. So grateful was he for his rescuers that Mason, 17, sent $1,000 to the state.

Sometime later, New Hampshire sent him a bill: $25,734.65 for the cost of rescuing him.

New Hampshire is one of eight states with laws allowing billing for rescue costs, but only New Hampshire has made frequent attempts to do so -- even strengthening its law last year to allow the suspension of hiking, fishing and driver's licenses of those who don't pay, according to an Associated Press review.

National search and rescue organizations insist just the possibility of being billed is dangerous policy. Hikers may delay calling for help while they think about the cost, and that could put them -- and the mostly volunteer corps of rescuers -- at greater risk.

Other states with laws allowing them to recoup costs rarely, if ever, enforce them, largely for that reason, the AP found.

"If it had happened in Colorado, he would have been applauded for being able to survive for three days," said Paul "Woody" Woodward, president of Colorado's Alpine Rescue Team. "New Hampshire is way out on their own on this one."

New Hampshire officials counter that being properly prepared -- not the size of the scout's bill -- should be the message about visiting wilderness areas. And, fish and game officials say, many of the state's trailheads are posted with signs warning hikers they may be billed for rescue costs if they aren't properly prepared.

Mason, now an 18-year-high school senior, from Halifax, Mass., has hired a lawyer to try to negotiate a settlement. Officials said he was found to be negligent because he veered off the marked path, was unprepared for melting snow that made a shortcut perilous and went up the mountain with an injured ankle, not down.

The bill included more than $24,000 for a helicopter and labor provided by state fish and game officers. Volunteers provided their time at no charge.

Three states besides New Hampshire -- Hawaii, Oregon and Maine -- have general laws allowing agencies to bill for rescues. Only Maine has attempted to recoup money a handful of times and the bills were never paid. California, Vermont, Colorado and Idaho have laws allowing state agencies to bill in limited circumstances, but the laws are rarely enforced -- and when they are, draw a firestorm of protest from search and rescue groups.

Two years ago, the fire department in Golden, Colo., rescued a hiker from Kansas who had sprained his ankle and later billed him for $5,135. The outcry from national search and rescue groups influenced the city to change its policy and settle with the hiker for 10 percent of the bill.

Only New Hampshire has consistently billed people. Last year, lawmakers increased the likelihood of being billed when they lowered the legal standard from reckless to negligent to make it easier to collect.

Records obtained by The Associated Press from a Freedom of Information Act request found that New Hampshire spent $413,543 on 275 rescue missions over the past two years. The state issued 16 bills for rescues totaling $41,435 -- with Mason's $25,000 bill the largest. The state spent far more, $59,426, on a December 2007 search that was not billed. In that case, the body of the 70-year-old hunter was found four months later. His family was not billed.

"We're not going out there with the intent to bill everyone," insists Fish and Game Maj. Timothy Acerno.

Policies vary across the country on penalizing people who ignore weather warnings, don't carry flashlights on long hikes, fail to leave itineraries, ski out of bounds or are otherwise unprepared or act irresponsibly.

If Mason had gotten lost in a National Park, his rescue would have been free, said David Barna, chief of public affairs for the National Park Service.

New Hampshire officials stress they only bill those who are negligent.

Acerno said that experienced search and rescue volunteers and fish and game staff consider what a reasonable person would have done and measure the person's actions against a hiker responsibility code that calls for knowing the terrain and conditions, taking proper gear, leaving an itinerary and turning back if conditions change. The attorney general's office makes the final determination.

Hannah Groom, a 21-year-old college student from Cumberland, Maine, learned the hard way.

While grateful for rescuers' help, Groom said the $3,360 bill sent to her and a friend was steep for one night on New Hampshire's Baldface Mountain in May. The two had planned a day hike, but took a wrong trail. She blames confusing trail markers.

"I do not believe that charging two young adults such a high fee for a mistake caused by poor trail markers is warranted," she wrote The AP in an e-mail.

Acerno said they were billed because they didn't tell anyone where they planned to hike and didn't have proper equipment, especially a flashlight.

Seasoned winter hiker John Winship, 46, of Boxford, Mass., paid the state $4,000 instead of his $1,479 bill after spending four days on Mount Washington last March when he missed his trail by 50 feet in a snowstorm. The third night out, he was getting frostbite.

"I was so grateful I got out of it. I have 10 fingers and 10 toes," he said of the experience.

Allen Clark, whose volunteer Pemigewasset Rescue Team participated in the Mason search, believes the punishment should be fixed dollar fines, not bills for state workers' time.

"This is an essential service the state should adequately fund," he said.

Woodward, of Colorado, said New Hampshire's image has been badly tarnished.

"If people are going to come to New Hampshire and go take hikes and make a mistake and get billed, they aren't going to come to New Hampshire," he said.