I am back from my backpacking trip, and despite the sore knees and scraped and banged-up shins, I am no worse for the wear. The trip was amazing and one I hope to do again in the next few years, perhaps next time over four days in the winter.

If you want to see photos from the trip (with descriptions — my version of a trip report), click on the image to the right. There are also a few videos here from a prior post.

In terms of personal accomplishment, I am more proud of the journey — what I saw, the experiences I had, the people I met, the challenges I overcame, etc. — than the metrics ~34.5 miles and 10,737 feet of elevation gain (I threw in West Bond and Galehead, which I think some people skip, but bailed on North Twin after getting my shins cut up on the last 1 mile of Twinway before Sout Twin). Don’t get me wrong, I am very happy and proud that I can hike that far (and up/down) with a 40 lb. pack, but (1) I’m humbled by the fact that there are people who do the entire loop in only one day (I took three), and most importantly, (2) I was just happy to be hiking in the backcountry.

Now on to the highlights…

If you have been in the Pemigewasset (Pemi) Wilderness before, I would assume you agree that it is a place of almost endless beauty. The terrain is varied ranging from lush and green to stark and wind-scraped, with beauty to be found even on the more monotonous stretches (cough…Wilderness Trail…cough! cough!).

On top of the sheer beauty of the place, and the fun I had while hiking, I managed to meet quite a few nice people. The ones that stuck out include Paul (from Concord, NH — we were making our way up Bondcliff at the same time, and were both also overnight at Guyot Campsite), the very pleasant gentleman whom I met at the Garfield Ridge campsite (we shared a mutual laugh…more on that later), and the two guys I chatted with at the Galehead Hut on the morning of my second day, and then again on the Osseo Trail (we were heading in opposite directions) on my hike out earlier yesterday afternoon. In addition, it seems like everyone who decided to stop and engage me in conversation, even if only for a minute or two, were exceedingly pleasant. …yes, including the 100+ folks I saw and passed by on the Franconia Ridge Trail (though definitely quite a different crowd than the previous two days), some of whom passed by without a hello.

This might be silly, but I figure I should learn something from any outing, and this trip did not disappoint. Following are a few things that I learned along the way:

• After pacing yourself admirably for 31 miles, don’t go nuts because you want to get to the car. Your knees, which were previously handling the mileage quite nicely, will not in any way appreciate you suddenly almost tripling the pace for the next 3.5 miles, just so you can drive to Lincoln for a sandwich. Which leads me to…
• Bring only food that you really, really, really like, and further, would eat no matter what when you are tired and fatigued.
• If you don’t want to deal with an at-capacity backcountry campsite, don’t try to stay at one on Saturday night over Memorial Day weekend.
• If you look up the trail and see a continuous and rotten monorail for the next 300+ feet, try it gingerly with one foot and immediately post-hole into snow/ice chunks, stop, take your pack off, get out your gaiters, and cover your shins (your socks will appreciate the chance to stay dry as well). Chances are that 300+ feet will end up being a mile of more or less constant shin scraping, with little to no opportunity of skirting the monorail by bushwhacking (in case you are wondering, yes, I am talking about the last mile of Twinway before the summit of South Twin coming from Mt. Guyot). Being stubborn saves you the few minutes it would have taken to get your gaiters on, but my guess is you just might have made that time up by not having to tiptoe through the shin gauntlet (stopping every so often to curse at the white stuff encasing/scraping your tender leg).
• My personal favorite: Don’t think for a moment that: (1) just because you ignored the loud jabbering and thumping (I think they were unpacking for a half an hour) by those guys two sleeping bags away from you (in a communal hut filled with 11 people) for an hour and a half while you tried to sleep, (2) or laid silently ALL NIGHT while you drifted in and out of sleep (I kept looking at my watch and figure I managed only three hours of sleep in total) as one of them snored loudly (broken occasionally when he decided to moan, for some reason…), (3) did your best to whisper goodbye to the guy next to you who couldn’t sleep either (the guy I mention several paragraphs up from the Garfield Ridge Campsite) while dragging all of your belongings outside to pack at 4:45am because you still can’t sleep because the snoring/moaning is still going strong, and (4) despite the fact that the guy you were whispering goodbye to also decided to so quietly pack up outside the hut and leave (yes, the mower kept him up the majority of the night too…plus I think he was a bit creeped out by the lack of any barrier other than a sleeping bag between he and the noisy dude when the snoring switched over to a moan)… that the very same person whose rather constant noise you so graciously ignored for the last 10 hours won’t come out of the hut and tell you (over your whispering voices and sub-10 minutes of as-quiet-as-possible breaking of camp) to not make so much noise the next time you get up… Sheesh! To be fair, I guess, we didn’t let the guy know about his nocturnal noises, or how much his hour and a half yammering and noisy unpacking bugged us, because you should expect a *reasonable* amount of uncontrollable chatter and clatter when staying in a community space, so perhaps he didn’t see the irony in asking us to keep it down. Stay in a tent next time dude. …Anywho…
• If you are going to take a group of kids on the Franconia Ridge Trail during spring, and visually see that the peak is covered in mist/fast moving clouds, hear that the weather is calling for a solid chance of rain, and figure the temperature is roughly in the 40’s or 50’s (before wind chill), you might want to make sure those kids are wearing some proper gear. To review, cotton/denim getting wet in windy weather doesn’t do such a hot job of insulating. Throw in some slippery rocks, a lack of hats and other (dry) insulating layers, and maybe you get a sick kid or two. (All I can say is that I was in my full rain gear with waterproof trail runners, wool socks, my hat, and my windstopper gloves, and found that I was getting a bit chilled at times.)
• When standing on the summit of Garfield, a few hours after it rained on and off during the night, don’t look down a steep lichen covered rock face and say to yourself, “Oh, here’s an easier way down!” (Do, however, look up after you accidentally slide down that face, and think to yourself how nice it is that there was only 15 or so feet to fall.)
• Stop and chat with people you meet (provided they engage you as well) — you never know who you’ll have the pleasure of getting to know, and you can usually pick up quite a few useful tidbits about the trail if you are headed in the direction they just came from.
• Take time and enjoy your trip. Don’t go crazy trying to get done as fast as possible or bag every peak in sight. Be flexible and have fun.