(Daily Mi: 7.9) Today was my first official day in the White Mountains Natl Forest *and* my first climb above timberline (which is around 3500-4000 ft. at this latitude)
Scored my cold weather gear, heavy boots and full tarp which Chris had mailed to the Glencliff PO general delivery.
Condition in the White Mountains can deteriorate rapidly at the summits and on the saddlebacks of the larger peaks. Weather conditions at 3500' at this latitude are equivalent to 14000' in Colorado. Overnight temperatures in the low 30s are common in July. It can and does snow.
Mt Moosilauke (4830 ft) -- funny how many different ways people can come up with to pronounce that name -- is the first of many 4000+ foot bumps I will encounter over the next 150 miles in the Whites. It is a 3000+ foot climb from base to summit, and it takes me the better part the late morning into early afternoon to hammer up the 5 mile ascent trail.
As I approach the summit, I hit the edge of timberline. The air fills with the scent of the dwarf spruce that replace the hemlocks here. It was a nice day below, but the upper reaches of the mountain are completely socked in with fog.
At the scree strewn summit even the spruce are scarce. Visibility is down to about 10 yards. There are a fair number of people on the wide summit plateau, but is hard in the mist to judge exactly how many. I feel like I am in a dream. It is at least in part endorphins.
By the time I cross over the summit and descend to the shelter at the first col on the backside of the hill, it is on to 2:30 pm. The backside descent off Moosilauke is a screaming 2 mi x 3000 ft drop. Past the descent it is still another 6 miles to the next shelter and I frankly whimp right out.
It is a nice high altitude shelter with a good spring nearby. The combination, however, results in late season black flies, and my legs are streaming ribbons of blood within minutes of sitting down.
Beer Man and Sobo come in followed by the Apricot and finally Choo Choo who pitches her tent nearby. At twilight, Beer Man and Sobo fire up a big bowl of pot in the shelter and the Apricot curses them out.
