Owl's Head (12/30-31/20)

I didn't get a chance to get a hike in this past weekend, so I thought I would put up a blog post about a hike I did a month ago. The hike was to Owl's Head, which is probably the most remote mountain in the White Mountains. I had been looking forward to this hike because it was a chance for a few firsts for me. It was my first chance to do a winter backpacking trip with a tent, and it was my first chance to test out a new backpack I got for Christmas, the Xenith 105.

The Xenith 105 is the largest backpack that Osprey (the most popular backpack manufacturer) makes, and it is one of the largest packs that you can buy, period. In fact, it's the largest that I have seen. Its true purpose is for long-term expeditions. Why did I need it? My winter sleeping bag wouldn't fit in my current largest pack, the Atmos 65, without taking up half the pack! Thus, I needed a bigger pack just to carry the sleeping bag, which is massive. The Xenith seemed to be just what the doctor ordered.

I parked my car at the Lincoln Woods Visitor Center and I began my hike on the Lincoln Woods Trail, just outside the town of Lincoln, New Hampshire. Apparently they have a thing for Honest Abe. Anyway, most hikers that I have met over the years hate the Lincoln Woods Trail. They complain that it's flat and boring. I, on the other hand, love Lincoln Woods. Flat means that I can go fast and cover more distance quickly, and I like to hike fast. Also, I don't think it's boring. The trail is right next to the Pemigewasset River, and that gives some great views as you hike along. The trail itself can be pretty as well, especially in the snow.

My plan was to take the Lincoln Woods Trail to the Black Pond Trail, and then hike to Black Pond. Besides being scenic, Black Pond is where a route called the Black Pond Bushwhack begins. The Black Pond Bushwhack is exactly what it sounds like. It's not a real trail, but is instead a shortcut that can save you a good amount of time off your trip and prevent you from needing to do several water crossings. In summertime, the bushwhack can be  hard to follow, but in wintertime it's easy because you just have to follow the footprints in the snow.

A view of Black Pond.

I made good time to Black Pond, and then headed towards the bushwhack. The trail had been mostly flat to that point, but the bushwhack threw in a few ups and downs. Nothing too major, though. I continued to make good time and eventually came out onto the Lincoln Brook Trail, which is different than the Lincoln Woods Trail. As I said, they love Honest Abe in that area.

The Lincoln Brook Trail is where things started to get tricky. There were three water crossings. The weather had been relatively warm in the prior days, and so any snow bridges that might have existed were now long gone. This meant that before crossing, I had to walk up and down the banks of the stream until I found a passable crossing spot. I say passable because there were no good crossing spots.

I made it through the first two crossings without too much trouble. They slowed me down, but at least I didn't get wet. When I got to the third crossing, I found my first other people of the day. There were four hikers and their dog trying to cross the stream. This stream, however, was wider and going faster than the other ones had been. I really had no idea how to cross.

I thought I saw a possibility, so I stepped on some ice and rocks to get to it. At this point, I was in the middle of the stream, and if I could make one more solid step I thought I could cross. I poked the step with my pole, and the whole thing fell apart. I was just glad it was my pole and not my foot that caused it, or I would have been in the water. I retreated back to the shore, but on the way back my foot went through some ice and my boot and sock got wet. Oh well, I thought, nothing I can do about it now, so no point in worrying.

I continued to travel along the shore, occasionally checking to see if the other group was having any luck. They weren't. Finally I found a spot and was able to use it to get across. It took a little bit of agility, which was tough with the giant Xenith on my back, but I made it. I pointed it out to the other group, but they didn't like my spot. One of them came out to try it, but he wouldn't make the leap of faith that I had made. It was probably for the best anyway. I am not sure that their dog could have made it. I continued shadowing them from the opposite shore as they looked for a place to cross. They didn't seem to be making any decisions and communication was difficult across the rushing water, so I decided to hike on.

I made it to the base of Owl's Head and set up my tent. That process took me like an hour (in fairness, I also stopped for lunch). Once I had my tent set up, I put Phase II of my plan into motion. I dumped the Xenith inside my tent near my sleeping pad and sleeping bag, and I removed from the Xenith a smaller daypack that I had carried in for exactly this purpose. Now that I would have to do steep climbing, I wanted the lighter daypack with me instead of the massive Xenith.

I should also point out that my tent was bought from LL Bean years ago and is one of my oldest pieces of backpacking gear, but it had never been used before. I normally carry my Zpacks Duplex tent on backpacking trips, but that tent doesn't have tent poles, and I wanted tent poles on this trip for two reasons. First, my Duplex uses my trekking poles to set up, and I needed my trekking poles to climb up Owl's Head, so that wouldn't have worked. Second, I wanted actual tent poles because I thought that a tent with poles would stand up better in the snow and ice.

My tent in all its glory.

The hike up Owl's Head is not super long, but it's fairly steep, as most of the elevation gain is right there at the end. I began by climbing the Owl's Head Slide, which is an old rock slide. This part of the hike offers fantastic views of Franconia Ridge just across the way. I should point out that one of the mountains on Franconia Ridge is Mt. Lincoln. Yep, they love Honest Abe.

Once I got past the rockslide, I had to climb up a frozen waterfall. I kid you not. I am not sure where the summer trail goes (I hiked it years ago but don't remember), but the winter trail goes right up a frozen waterfall. As you can imagine, that was tough climbing, and my spikes had some trouble biting in to the thick ice. I was not looking forward to the trip back down, either.

Yep, this is what I climbed.

Once I made it past that section, the Owl's Head Trail joined another bushwhack called the Brutus Bushwhack. Looking back at it now, I probably should have gone up (and down) the bushwhack instead of the slide, but I preferred the devil I knew to the devil I didn't. Once I got near the summit, I saw one of the only examples of wildlife I had seen that day, as a mouse scurried across the trail in front of me. It was also snowing and I was getting hungry and regretting not throwing some snacks into my daypack. I knew I was close to the summit, though, and the trail was leveling out.

Then, to my surprise, I ran into people. It was the same group I had left back at the stream crossing, and they were now descending the mountain. Apparently they had taken the Brutus Bushwhack up, passing me while I was setting up my tent. We spoke briefly, and they let me know that they had found a better way across the water. I filed that away as useful information for later.

I summited not long afterwards, though honestly the Owl's Head summit is kind of pathetic. The cairn marking it is a small pile of rocks no more than two feet high. It actually wasn't always the summit. The previous recognized summit was actually closer to the slide, and therefore made for an easier hike. However, someone eventually figured out where the actual summit was, and so the AMC had to move the recognized summit, much to the chagrin of hikers who would have preferred the shorter hike.

After I summited, I started back down the trail as the snow picked up a bit in intensity. I thought about following the Brutus down, but opted to continue with the slide, because I knew my tent was right at the bottom of it, and I wasn't sure where the Brutus would come out. Much to my amazement, I made it down the frozen waterfall without a problem. I was actually near the bottom of the slide and just beginning to congratulate myself on a job well done when I managed to misjudge a step, slip, and fall hard on my butt. I knew immediately that sleeping in the woods that night was going to be more difficult with a butt injury.

I finally made it back to camp, and I switched out of my hiking clothes and into my camp clothes. I had nice warm softshell pants, a cozy fleece, and new socks. I told myself that all I had to do was to make sure that I kept all my clothes dry to sleep in. This especially applied to socks, as I only had two pairs with me, and the first pair was already wet from hiking in the snow all day.

So, you guessed it. A few minutes later I knocked over my stove and the water spilled all over the socks I needed to keep dry. Nice going, Hawk. I decided that I would sleep without socks that night and keep the socks in the sleeping bag with me to try to dry them with body heat.

On the plus side, I enjoyed my dinner, and honestly I wasn't really hungry enough for dessert afterwards. I hung my food bag away from my camp site. My food back is an Ursack, which is a bag made of bulletproof material. It is so strong that bears can't get it open and take your food. Of course, they can crush the food inside your bag, but nothing's perfect.

After hanging the food bag, I settled in to my sleeping bag. My winter sleeping bag is quite large, which is important because I have to sleep with a lot of things in winter. I have to keep all of my clothes in the sleeping bag to keep them warm, I have to keep my water in there to keep it from freezing, and my electronics, especially my cell phone, need to be in there as well. I climbed into bed at about 4:30 PM. That may seem ridiculously early to go to bed, but it was dark already at that time, and there's not a lot to do in the woods when it's dark.

I did listen to some podcasts. I especially enjoy Stuff You Should Know when I am deep in the woods by myself. The two hosts, Josh and Chuck, have such camaraderie that they make me feel like I have two friends there with me.

I didn't sleep super well that night, although I was warm. It was mostly just the fact that going to bed at 4:30 was so unnatural. It wasn't really light enough to get up until about 7 AM the next morning, so it may actually be a record for the most time I have ever spent in bed.

After I got up the next morning, I grabbed my food bag, ate breakfast, and cleaned up camp. I broke down my tent, stuffed everything into the Xenith, and got started again. I was determined to find the "good" crossing spot that the group had told me about the prior day. I never found it, but I did find a spot that was good enough to cross. Unfortunately, my foot broke through some ice and got wet again, but I wasn't concerned because I knew that I was hiking out and it wasn't cold enough for me to worry too much about frostbite or anything like that, especially with The Furnace going.

Just one example of what the water crossings looked like.

I did have a couple other issues with water crossings on the way out, and this led to an annoying complication. During one of the water crossings, my right spike got wet, and it started balling. This meant that a snowball was building up underneath it. Every time I knocked it off, it started again. That made the walk out Lincoln Woods Trail quite aggravating, but I managed.

I made great time on the way out, too, and that made me realize something. I actually didn't need to backpack. I could have hiked in and out in one day with a lighter pack. I guess it doesn't matter, though. I enjoyed the experience, and in a way I was spreading my wings by trying something new, winter tent camping. Oh, and I also enjoyed the Subway sandwich I rewarded myself with on the way home.

Thanks for reading my blog, and always remember, you can't take flight until you spread your wings.