[at-l] Trip Report White Mountains,Day 6: July 25 - Mizpah Spring Hut to Lakes of the Clouds Hut

[papabear.nyc at verizon.net (Papa Bear)]

Here's the Web address for the full report:
http://members.bellatlantic.net/~vze2h6gy/papabear/Whites_2003.html

I  previously posted the link to the pictures, but here it is again:
http://gallery.backcountry.net/papabear_2003_Whites

Friday (July 25th): Mizpah Spring Hut to Lakes of the Clouds Hut via Mount Isolation.  

Today I planned to go way, way off the beaten path and summit Mt. Isolation. As the name implies, this is a very long way from anywhere, although starting at the hut instead of at a road gave me a good advantage.  It lies in the middle of the Dry River Wilderness area south of Mt. Washington, where trails and hikers are few and far between.  

I awoke to fog, occasional showers and temperatures in the 50s.  My wet stuff was now but damp and I knew it would be OK since my shirt and shorts were Coolmax and would dry quickly from my warm body.  Yuck!  My boots however were still rather wet so I put on dry socks and then put on a couple of plastic shopping bags over the socks as a vapor barrier.  My feet would be more sweaty, but I was hoping the heat from them would push the water out of the boots through the Gortex, and later in the day I could get rid of the plastic bags.  It turns out this actually worked pretty well, and although the first part of the day was wet going, I ended the day with boots dry on the inside and just a bit damp on the outside.

The light rain and fog was OK by me, since most of the day would be spent in rather overgrown forest where a little more "atmosphere" would do little damage to my plans.  I asked Jon, the hut guy, how the trail would be.  he said the Dry River Cutoff and Isolation Trails get very little traffic and would be overgrown.  He thought the Dry River crossing would be OK unless I get nervous on rock hops.  I said: "do people ever get lost down there".  He said "Yeah, it happens".  Great reassurance.  The AMC people were also thinking of going down to the Dry River (although not to Mt. Isolation) but being more concerned (than I) with issues of crossing the River with a mixed group, they opted to just stick to the Crawford  Path to get to Lakes.  I told them I would see them at Lakes, and send out a search party if I never showed up.   I was only partly kidding.

I got off at 7:45 AM and immediately the trail seemed different, somehow wilder than your usual White Mountains trail.  The forest seemed thicker and the blow downs (off the trail) more impressive.  This was primarily a mixed hardwood forest not the Spruce/Fir combination found higher up and the trail was very overgrown from the sides with seasonal foliage.  The trail itself was clear, but sometimes it was difficult to see the treadway.  There were a few bog logs but mostly it was a very secluded, very beautiful hike through very dense forest.

I crossed two tributaries as I approached the Dry River and then got to that crossing.  We had had rain for the several days prior to today, but never any significant accumulation, so the water level was modest. I scouted out my rock hop and although it's always scary to step onto a round boulder which lies  a half inch under water, I made it across safe and sound.

This brought me to the Dry River Trail which goes up the east side of the river all the way to Lakes.  It was about 9:30 AM so I was making good time.  I dropped my pack and hiked up a short distance to check out Dry River Falls.  I was told by Jon the hut guy that the short spur is unmarked, but if you listen for the falls you would find the spur.  Well I did, and sure enough down a steep but short bank brought me face to face with an awesome waterfall.  I would love to see this in Spring under heavy water conditions.  Trouble is how would I get in here in the Spring with the crossings next to impassible! 

I turned around and got back to my pack and went down the trail a short distance and found the intersection with the Isolation Trail going up to the left.  It was just about 10:00 AM.

The sense of wilderness and beauty here was pregnant. I seemed like no one had been here in years. The trail was somewhat overgrown and the forest was filled with very old trees and blowdows. In the higher elevations, walking through the fir waves was humbling.  I can't put it adequately in words but it was juts raw, beautiful wildness.  

As the trail rose up along Isolation Creek to the Davis Path, it crossed to the right bank and crossed back a short time later.  It seemed like this may have been a relocation perhaps due to trail erosion along the left side of the creek.  This trail has a lot of elevation gain (1700' in 2.7 miles) but never did it seem steep.  It was muddy in places, and overgrown in places and at one point there was a wondrous blowdown right over the trail, where the dead tree was caught in the branches of the surrounding canopy and the broken trunk hung straight down like the Sword of Damocles right over the trail.  Don't tarry here!

I arrived at the top of this trail at the Davis Path at 11:24 and took a break.  Here I checked my feet and boots and found the inside of the boots was now dry so off came the plastic bags.  Experiment in using a vapor barrier successful!  The Davis Path is one of the very old trails in the Whites originally laid down by Edmands himself.  usually anything called a "Path" (like the Crawford Path, Edmands Path or the Davis Path) is one of the older trails.  It took about 45 minutes to reach Mt. isolation and unfortunately my morning's reverie was broken by first a group of 5 hikers who were hiking up the Path having just summited isolation, and a group of 3 more on the summit.  The little spur trail to the summit was steep and rocky as is often the case.  I made it to the summit at 12:18.  The view was stunning!  Not a sign of civilization in any direction.  Even the ugly radio towers atop Mt. Washington were mercifully shrouded in clouds.  The fog was gone and except for the summit of Washington  the surrounding mountains were all visible.  One of the 3 hikers on Isolation had just finished his 48, so they were celebrating. I congratulated him on this accomplishment. and one of them took my picture. They intended to hike up the Davis Path to Boott Spur and then down to Pinkham so they got going while I took a break.

I was hardly done: I had another 6 miles or so to get to Lakes of the Clouds Hut, and that by also going over Boott Spur, a shoulder of Mt. Washington.  As I made my way up the Davis Path, it rained off and on for an hour or so, and I heard distant thunder, so I was apprehensive. I saw the three I had met on Isolation coming back down the Davis Path.  The thunder had caused them to change their plans and go out via Rocky Branch (a trail off the Davis Path to the north).  Thunder or no thunder, I couldn't change my plan since I had to get to the hut, but I was hoping that by skirting Washington around the north-west side of the cone I would escape anything really fierce, even though I had a couple of miles above tree line to do.

I got to tree line a little after 2:00 PM and put on my rain gear, more for wind protection than for rain.  The winds were quite strong as I hiked up the ridge line, probably hitting 40 MPH as I approached Boott Spur.  Although Boott Spur has an intriguing name, it's really just a pile of rocks that caps the ridge line.  It's prominence is probably no more that 50', but it does serve as a point where several trails going up and around Washington converge.  To one side is Tuckerman Ravine, perhaps the most impressive of Washington's glacial cirques.  Behind is the Gulf of Slides (hidden to me by the clouds). Straight ahead is the clouded 1000' cone of Washington, and off to the left a row of cairns marches off into the mist towards my destination, Lakes of the Clouds.  BTW: there are two Lakes, so it's "Lakes of the Clouds", not "Lake of the Clouds".

Just as I got to the top of the Spur, the clouds started to lift!  Wonder of wonders, blue sky to the South and improving by the minute.  I took a bunch of pictures and set off across the felsenmeer towards Lakes where I arrived just before 3:30.  I changed, rinsed a few things off and took more pictures.  Lo and behold, the clouds covering Washington lifted as well, and people were starting to organize late afternoon hikes to it's summit.  It is clear so seldom up here that you take whatever opportunities you can when they suddenly present themselves.

Between the solitude of the wilderness and the majesty of the peaks it had been an awesome and beautiful day, one I will long remember.

After supper I watched the sunset and took a few more pictures.  I got to sleep but woke a few times. The wind was howling all night and one glimpse outside showed the stars looking down!  Tomorrow I must cross the Presidentials to finish my trek.

The propeller:
Anyone who has stayed in any of the White Mountain Huts in the last 30 odd years has probably heard about The Propeller.  While never having seen it until this trip, I have heard many times rumors about it.  It seems that the croos have a contest to "steal" certain nostalgia items which are displayed in other huts (usually in the middle of the night) and then display the item in their own hut as "booty".  Thus the Mizpah Hut croo might sneak over to Zealand Hut in the middle of some night and steal a Boston Red Sox banner and hang it from the rafters in their hut the next day.  Then the Zealand Hut croo is honor bound to steal it back, unless of course the Madison Hut croo steals it first.  Thus it is that certain items circulate among the huts summer after summer.  The most famous and probably the first such item is The Propeller.  I had heard how The Propeller is the most revered of all booty items and indeed the biggest, heaviest and hardest to steal.  I had visions of an airplane propeller weighing 150 lbs and 8 feet long, hung from the rafters of some hut by a set of heavy chains.  Everyone seemed to know about The Propeller. It is 75 lbs.  It is 100 lbs.  It is 150 lbs.  It came from a World War I plane crash.  No, it was a World War II crash.

On July 25 of this year, after dinner at Lakes of the Clouds Hut, I finally saw The Propeller and heard the true story as narrated the hutmaster.  

The Propeller is from a Cesna C-130.  It weighs 37 lbs and is about 6 feet long.

The Cesna crashed into the top of Oaks Gulf (between Mount Monroe and Mount Washington) near the Crawford Path on November 28, 1969.  The three crewmen aboard were killed.  Their bodies were recovered in early December of 1969 and the plane remained where it was.  The Federal Aviation Administration planned to return in the Spring to investigate the cause of the crash.  In June of 1970, the new croo of Lakes Hut arrived to set up the hut for the 1970 season which was about to begin.  Having little better to do, they decided to play a prank on the FAA and remove the propeller from the plane, located close by. And so they did.  They then waited and waited but the FAA never showed up.  They had either lost the file on the plane crash or decided it did not need to be investigated.  After a week of waiting for the Feds, the croo got even bolder and went over and pushed the plane wreck over the edge and down into Oaks Bluff where it settled about 500' down into the Gulf.  There it remains today.  So goes the "true" story as I heard it.

At Greenleaf Hut this year one of the croo was wearing a T-shirt with the logo "Mount Monroe Demolition Crew"  She said it was a spoof on the "Mount Madison Ski Patrol" which is a small group of dedicated individuals with little to do - since there are no ski trails on Mount Madison.  She said she and a few others had actually bushwhacked down into Oaks Gulf and found the old Cesna from the 1969 crash.  Such fun the hut croos have!

Miles: 12.1, elevation gain 4250', peaks: Isolation*.

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