There's A Lift For That

It's been almost 3 months since my last winter hike. With the exception of Adam's trip up Washington (I had to work), we've both cut back on our winter 4,000 footers this season in favor of the much easier, faster, and equally as fun ski days. Our moderate obsession with getting in as many days as possible this season has taken a toll on our list of peaks to cross off. So, when I realized I had to go to north to Pinkham Notch for a Trails meeting we figured we should finally hike a mountain instead of ride up one in a lift.

BUT WAIT, WHAT IF WE DO BOTH OF THE THINGS?

Wildcat Mountain sits *basically* across the road from Pinkham Notch and holds five peaks over 4,000 feet, only two of which count for our list. After hearing horror stories of the Wildcat Ridge trail we finally decided to ascend the ski trail from the base lodge and link up with the Wildcat Ridge trail on, well, the ridge. The top of the ski mountain is D peak, so we needed to go up and over C and B peak to ascend A peak, and then back again.

Unfortunately, Pinkham filled up with large groups before I could reserve us a spot. Fortunately, I am spoiled and was able to get a private room with private bath at the Highland Center one notch over. Highland is almost too nice. It feels more like a hotel than a mountain lodge. That's not a complaint, trust me. We got *the hook up* there... dinner and breakfast included, trail lunch, discount on merchandise, a private room with a view. Let's just say it was much more comfortable than sleeping in -1 degree temps in a hammock like our last winter hike.

A $10 uphill pass allows travel up one of the green trails of Wildcat, and, like I said before, it's apparently a walk in the park compared to ascending the Ridge Trail from Pinkham. By 9:30am we were geared up and ready to go. I am grateful for the ascent up the ski trail, mostly because it was probably 10x easier than the other route and we quickly realized that we are so out of hiking shape. Skiing all day isn't exactly a walk in the park, but it's so much easier than winter hiking. I only recently got back into a semi-regular schedule at the gym and I'm in halfway decent cycling shape. That doesn't really translate to hauling a big pack up a mountain.

The ascent up the ski trail was unique in that we had less obstacles underfoot but more unpredictable elements like out-of-control skiers and merging trails. I also knew that eventually someone would give me shit because Adam was carrying my skis. There was a reason to this other than me being lazy. Adam used his telemark skis and skins (both of which I don't have) so he could travel uphill on his skis. He also just got that brand-spanking-new pack that is design to carry skis. I used my big 70L pack to carry our water, first aid, food, and my ski boots, so weight-wise it evened out. He just looked way more impressive. A few folks stopped to talk to us, and one woman said, "She got you to carry her skis! How nice of you! Oh, wait, she's carrying a lot, too." Yes, thank you. I didn't con him into carrying my skis, thank you very much. Of all the amusing comments from downhill skiers, my favorite was "Hey, you know there's a lift for that!". Shit, REALLY? It was all in good fun.

We huffed, puffed, laughed, and sweat our asses off up Wildcat D peak to the top of the ski mountain. Ski patrol was nice enough to let us drop some of gear, including our skis and boots, with them while we hiked over to A peak. I realized that I knew one of these ski patrol volunteers, but I couldn't tell from where. Turns out she works in the same office as me in Boston. Small world! We started on the Wildcat Ridge Trail and within a minute were on the true summit of Wildcat D (it's not where the fancy sign is - see photo lower down). After a quick photo opp and "hoorah!" we continued on. Though the topo maps told us the ridge would be relatively easy, I was most worried that we would run out of time. The caveat of using a ski mountain is that you have to be off of it when it closes. 

Spruce Trap

Thankfully we made great time with our light loads. In almost exactly one hour we made it down D peak, up and over C and B peaks, and onto A peak. That hour was spent navigating through the dense branches that would normally be well above our heads if it weren't for the snowpack. We gambled on a packed out trail and didn't bring snow shoes, and thankfully it paid off. I did, however, encounter what I believe to be my first spruce trap. Spruce traps occur when spruce trees or other small conifers get completely buried by snow. The air pockets and thin branches aren't sturdy enough to hold a person's weight, so an unsuspecting hiker takes a step onto what looks like a packed out trail and suddenly plummets into the snow, sometimes chest-deep. Everything was going fine when all of a sudden I was sunk up to my butt. I realized that only thing that stopped me was my butt, and that if I wiggled my foot I started to sink lower and lower. I don't know if this was a true spruce trap, but if it wasn't then it was definitely the most epic posthole of my hiking career. 

Summit of A Peak

As you stand on A peak, you would never know you were less than 2.5 miles from a ski mountain. There's no noise, no view of the parking lot (or any road, really), no hum of the lift. We had an overcast view of the grey and white frozen world before it faded away into the clouds. We didn't see anyone else until we reversed our course back towards D peak, where we crossed paths with two climbers heading to where we had just been. The steep but short rollercoaster up and down the subpeaks was pretty easy going and we were back to the ski mountain in an hour. I was really pleased with our time, and we would not have been able to go that speed if we had brought all of our gear. Many thumbs up to ski patrol.

View along the Wildcat Ridge Trail

We took our time switching over to our ski gear and enjoyed conversation with the volunteers at the top of the mountain. They were nice enough to snap a photo of us at the "not actually the summit, but nice views of Washington" marker. 

D Peak, with Washington in the clouds behind us

We chose to descend the same trail we had hiked up for novelties sake, but it actually was probably a good choice since our legs were tired and it was an easy green run. It usually takes a run or two to "get my ski legs", which is to say that I didn't really have my ski legs, especially after 5 hours of hiking. It was a pretty haggard descent. My foot charlie-horsed about 300 yards into the trail, but I figured it wasn't worth it to take off a boot and stretch out when we only had one run to do. Might as well just fight through it and get down. Fight it I did, because the painful;y cramped foot and tired muscles didn't serve me well on the way down. Adam was feeling it, too, and we had a comical time getting ourselves to the bottom. It may have looked smooth, but it was anything but.

We decided we had "earned our turns", as one skier shouted at us while we were hiking up, and had also "earned our beers". After enjoying a post-hike beverage we headed over to North Conway to poke around International Mountain Equipment (IME) and treat ourselves to Flatbread. Flatbread is a favorite of ours not only because it's delicious, but because they can make "pizza" for a man that is allergic to almost every element of a traditional pizza: the barley in the flour, the cow's milk fat in the cheese, the tomatoes in the sauce, the soy if they use that in the oil or flour... well, you get it. It was worth it.

I'm glad we didn't have to sacrifice (I say that loosely because we love both things) a day of skiing for hiking, or vice versa. It was a unique way to experience the mountain and check two more peaks off our list!

The Toof

Well, it only took SIX MONTHS, but I finally have a new "tooth", or as I call it, a toof. 

Ta-Da!

Back in July I got hit with a post hole digger that knocked me unconscious and struck fear into the hearts of my participants. They frantically scrambled around as I hunkered down on all fours, spitting out blood. Actually, they weren't that frantic and they handled the situation well, but it was unpleasant for all involved, I'm sure. Two months later I was eating a potato chip when suddenly I felt something crack. I panicked and hastily pushed the half of my tooth that cracked back into position. Cosmetically it looked okay, but I knew I was screwed.

Eventually another piece of the tooth cracked off as well, leaving me with a not-so-attractive hole in my mouth. I figured it was way too far past the incident to get any sort of worker's comp insurance, but as per the recommendation of my co-workers I tried anyway. Thankfully, worker's comp agreed to cover all of it.

6 months and many, many appointments later and my fantastic dentist was able to save the root and part of my tooth, and give me a very real looking "toof". I'm grateful to have my smile back (so cliche, but true). The next hurdle is to get my wisdom teeth out... right now my teeth are so crowded that they're pushing into weird positions and giving me another round of self-conscious smiling. Oh, dental woes! At least I've got my toof.