Saddleback and the Horn (2/6/21)

 My quest to complete the winter four thousand footers in NH is temporarily on hold until the weather lines up perfectly, so today I decided to expand my winter peaks and start hiking some Maine four thousand footers instead. The last time I decided to hike the Maine four thousands (for my all season list), I started with Saddleback and its Horn, and I completed that list, so I decided not to mess with what worked. I opted to start with Saddleback again.

Unfortunately, the day did not get off to an auspicious start. I wasn't feeling great last night and didn't sleep all that well, so I wasn't as rested as I would have liked to be. The good news is that it got me up early so that I could get an early start, which is important because the Maine four thousand footers are all long drives. Funny enough, even though I live in Maine, the NH four thousands are much closer to me than the Maine four thousands are, on account of just how friggin' big a state Maine is. It's actually bigger than the other five New England states combined.

I rolled out of bed at 4 AM and began to get ready. I managed to get on the road by 5:30, which put me in Rangeley (where Saddleback is located) at a little before 8. I was slowed down a bit because the road approaching Saddleback has an impressive (or unimpressive, depending on how you look at it) number of dips in it and I had to take it fairly slow. Still, I made decent time. I ate my usual pre-hike sandwich and got my gear on, and then went to go start my hike. Of course, starting my hike today would be a little different than normal because Saddleback is an active ski area.

I had been forewarned that you had to have snowshoes to hike on the Uphill Access trail that Saddleback just created. I was not forewarned that there was a fee, but it didn't surprise me. I had to go to the ticket window to pay my $15, but I still got on trail at 8:20. When I looked up at the summit from the ski trail, it looked so close, but of course I knew it wasn't. It never is.

So close and yet so far.

I give the ski resort credit. They created a nice trail. Truthfully, though, I suspect that the nice path has more to do with the snowshoe hikers and skinning enthusiasts that use the trail than it has to do with the resort itself. Skinning, in case you're unaware, is a new type of ski activity where skiers hike up the hill in their skis rather than using a lift. It's better exercise, it's cheaper, and it allows for backcountry skiing. Of course, you might be thinking that it would be very hard to hike in skis, as they would just slide back down. That's where the skins come in. The skins are a sleeve that gets put over the ski, and there's little hairs in the bottom that don't allow the ski to slide backwards. It's yet another cool outdoor recreation innovation of the past few years.

One criticism that I will make of the Uphill Access trail is that they are really fond of using diagonal arrows. The problem is that sometimes there will be a path to the left and a path going straight, and they will use an arrow pointing to the top-left, making it completely unclear which way you are supposed to go. Thankfully they do supplement it with pink tape as trail blazes, so that does help. Following the tracks of the people who have gone before you helps even more, though.

Why couldn't you use a straight arrow?

Anyhow, for the most part the Uphill Access trail is an easy climb up the mountain. It also has some beautiful scenery, and at some point I would like to take my girlfriend Dragonfly up to Rangeley to hike it with me. I think she would enjoy it. Today was an especially gorgeous day, as occasionally the sun would come out and the clouds would clear long enough for a perfect photo, and you would feel blessed to hit the timing just right.

Beautiful scenery on the Uphill Access.

When you get to the highest lift on the mountain, you cut off onto a trail that takes you into the Saddleback Fields, which then connects you with the Appalachian Trail near the summit.  That's where the wind starts. The wind was coming across the summit of Saddleback at a good 30 mph. I ran into an older couple up there. He told me that they wanted to hike all the way to the Horn, but I think she nixed that, because I ended up hiking to the Horn alone.

It was probably a good decision on their part to forego the Horn, as that's where the trail really got difficult. The descent from Saddleback into the col between the peaks was tough, because although someone had hiked it yesterday, his trail had been obliterated, and so I was stuck not only re-breaking the trail, but also trying to figure out where it went. Every once in a while I would find his tracks, but for the most part I guessed. If you end up hiking Saddleback and the Horn in the next few days, I strongly encourage you NOT to follow my trail unless you want to do a lot of backtracking.

Panoramic photograph from the col.

One thing that I am not sure that a lot of people understand about winter hiking is just how far above the ground you are. For example, you might see a bunch of branches blocking the trail, and think that some trail maintenance is required. However, those branches are far above the trail, and in summertime hikers would comfortably pass underneath them. In winter, the fact that there is several feet of snow underneath your feet puts you much higher into the tree branches than you would be in the other three seasons. If you're curious just how much snow there is under your feet, at one point my left foot post-holed (despite wearing snowshoes), and I ended up with my entire leg getting eaten by the snow. Thankfully I was able to use my three remaining limbs to pull myself out, with a huge assist from my poles.

The path from Saddleback to the Horn was quite frustrating with the breaking trail, getting lost, hard uphill climbs, and stinging wind, but I did eventually make it. I was able to take a couple pictures when the clouds parted, but I didn't linger long. The Furnace was losing the battle to the wind. That says something about how intense the wind and cold was. The Furnace did fine on top of Mt. Washington, but struggled on Saddleback. I actually put my balaclava on for a few minutes to heat up my nose, but it didn't help much.

The Horn sign is just a little frozen.

I knew that the hike from the Horn back over to Saddleback was going to be tough. I just didn't have a lot of energy left in me for another big uphill climb. I think a lot of that has to do with the fact that winter hiking that requires snowshoes is just a lot tougher than winter hiking that you can do in spikes. This was my first full snowshoe hike of winter, and I felt it. It may also have to do with the fact that I haven't been hiking enough recently and have gotten out of shape. Lack of sleep probably didn't help, either.

Ultimately, none of that mattered, though. There was no choice. I had to get over Saddleback to get back to my car, so I just had to grit it out. It was tough, but actually not as bad as I expected. I put some music on, and that helped. I also found that trying to find my way back up the mountain provided a mental puzzle that distracted a bit from the physical exhaustion. Eventually I made it back to the summit of Saddleback. I looked down at the skiers, and it was amazing how small they all looked, although they couldn't have been that far below me. It lent me some perspective on just how big the mountain is compared to the ski resort.

Saddleback as seen from The Horn.

The hike down was comparatively easy. I made good time down Saddleback, but my overall trip speed of 1.7 mph was still disappointing. My time was mostly eaten up by my slow pace between Saddleback and the Horn. I also accidentally included my time buying the pass and my time cleaning up after the hike in my hiking time, so that didn't help anything.

At least this time I didn't make the mistake I made on Washington. I brought an adequate supply of food up the mountain with me, and I even had a package of Annie's Cheddar Bunnies (effectively Goldfish) left over when I finished the hike.

The trip home was a bit more eventful than I would have preferred. Instead of taking me back through Farmington and Livermore Falls, which would have made too much sense, my GPS directed me onto a country highway that hadn't been adequately plowed. I suspect the GPS thought it was going to save me a minute, but it probably cost me a significant chunk of time because of how slow I had to go. On the plus side, the route brought me by the biggest snowman I have ever seen. This snowman was bigger than a Mini Cooper. I would estimate it to have been about the size of a Volkswagen Beetle. I would have stopped to take a picture, but I didn't want to chance it with the road conditions.

Thanks as always for reading my hiking blog, and always remember that you can't take flight until you spread your wings!