Friday, June 1

The night leading into June was a rainy and thunder-filled one, but we slept safely in our tents. The next morning, a woman from a neighboring campsite said to Shuwen: “Wow, what a night!” and “This is when you find out if your tent works.” Our two tents held up pretty well, although we think that our friend Amy’s needs to be re-proofed, as it was beginning to drip on us by nights end. Edna, who dislikes camping, slept in the car, which we had quite a few laughs about throughout the trip. We even considered asking the ranger if he would charge us for only three adults since one slept in the car, but thought better of it in the end.

In the morning, Shuwen and Marc set off on a long hike up to Cannon Mountain, the nearest large peak to our campground, while Mark and Edna slept late and took an easier route to Lonesome Lake (which we saw only from above). Our hike started easily with a two mile stretch that was on a slight incline (500 feet climb) towards Profile Lake, which offers a spectacular view of the “Old Man in the Mountain.” Or did. (See the previous post). We admired the rock cliff with no face and then set off on the hard climbing portion of the hike, a two-mile distance that would take us up nearly two thousand feet, and featured climbing over slick rocks with water cascades coming down the side of the mountain. The rain and wet ground from the night before surely made this part more challenging, but as we reached the summit, we also realized that there is just a lot of moisture this time of year high up in the White Mountains. We tramped through puddles up there and were thankful the rain had ended and that our shoes were waterproof. On the way up, we caught numerous beautiful glimpses of the Echo and Profile Lakes, and some of the neighboring peaks across the highway on the Appalachian Trail (such as Mt. Lafayette, Mt. Liberty and others). We arrived to one scenic overlook that offered a breathtaking view of the swirling fog and mountain peaks, but do not have pictures since we were traveling light and had left the camera behind (it was low on batteries anyway).

At the peak of Cannon Mountain (reached around 11 am), we were thoroughly enveloped in cool clouds and could literally not see anything at all. But that was also neat, and for the first time on our hike the howling winds were loud enough to drown out the noise from the highway below. It is amazing to use how the sound of the road traffic carries over distance. We could hear it throughout our hike.

It then took us about 2 hours to cover the remaining 3.5 miles back down to our campsite, which took us down equally steep descents on another face of the mountain. That route down was much less scenic and rewarding; other than a couple great views of Lonesome Lake below, there was nothing particularly exciting about the vistas it offered. At one point, the trail became a ladder down a sheer rock wall. Needless to say, we were glad the ladder was there! We arrived back at our campsite thoroughly exhausted and extremely hungry, so we drove to Lincoln and ate giant pepper burgers at Gordi’s that promptly put us all in a food-inspired coma. Following the rain and clouds of the past days, Marc’s Singaporean compatriots wanted to sit on the deck in the sun, but he was worried about his fair skin as the hostess pulled back the cover on the deck. She noticed him squinting in the sun and came out with a visor for him to wear, and at UNC one at that! We all laughed at the coincidence, and left the restaurant with it in hand.

Next, we did our best to trade turns as we drove along the scenic Kancagamus Highway through the heart of the White Mountains, and up to Bretton Woods, a huge and famous resort that was host to the 1944 conference that gave birth to the IMF and World Bank and other important monetary and financial agreements. Actually, we learned that the IMF preceded the other December Bretton Woods agreements, and speculated that the delegates who set up that organization must have really enjoyed the fresh mountain air and golfing since the larger meeting returned to the same place. We also learned that the resort was built in 1902 in an Italian style, and that in the peak of its popularity, it received 57 trainloads of passengers each day from around the rest of New England and New York! In spite of the building’s splendor, it had clearly seen better days, since paint was chipping in places and it appeared that some restoration might be warranted in places. We were impressed that such a resort would be built in the middle of no where, but marveled at the natural beauty of the chosen spot.

Another stop along our drive was at the “historic” Willey house, so named because the Willey family was one of the first to settle in the area, and built a home that served as a transit point for other travelers. This family was clearly influential and well respected around the area, because the house has been preserved as a museum after all its members perished in an avalanche sometime around 1826 (we cannot remember for sure the exact date). The tragedy (and irony) of that story is that a nearby avalanche some years earlier had convinced Mr. Willey to build an avalanche shelter for his family, and that they all died trying to reach it. If they had stayed in their house, they would have been fine.

Back at out campsite, we finished the day with a dinner of soup and bread, and slept like logs that night.