Cannon Mountain 12-11-17
Cannon 4100'
Lonesome Lake/Hi-Cannon/Kinsman Ridge Trail
6.1 Miles 2350' Elevation gain
Kevin, Judy & Wicket
This was our 7th trip to Cannon Mountain. It was Wicket’s first, bringing her total to twelve. Although there were several inches of snow on the ground which continued to fall fiercely at first, then lighter throughout the entire hike, we can only count this as an autumn hike because technically, it is not winter according to the calendar.
We must adhere to the ancient laws set down that all “Winter” hikes must begin after the hour & minute of the winter solstice and end before the hour & minute of the vernal equinox. Winter doesn’t care about the “Solstice” and the “Equinox”, he come and goes as he pleases and has been dancing across the White Mountains for weeks.
Wicket is no stranger to the snow, having been housebroken in December of last year. After the long ride she was ready to go. We started out in 2 to 3” of new powder as we quickly rose from the parking lot to our turn at the junction with High Cannon Trail.
It began to snow hard as we rose through the dozens of short, steep switchbacks, rising through the mixed birch and spruce forest. Ice and frozen snow lay under the fresh powder as it accumulated, making the going a bit treacherous. The trees were coated in sugar.
High Cannon Trail is one of the last trails to the summit of a 4000 footer I had done before giving up on them until I had my hip-replacement. Despite the ice and snow, this trip felt like a walk in the park compared to that last trip in March of 2014.
It was difficult, yes, but it was pain-free this time. I was not forced to make the entire hike feeling as though I had a knife stuck in my hip, which is what bone on bone arthritis feels like. Constantly. I cannot describe the elation of moving freely along the trail again, pain free, after so many years.
Wicket bounced along the trail alternating between being right at my heel and taking off, slightly ahead, sweeping the trail free of furry rodents for our safe passage before, returning to check behind to be sure her mama was still coming along.
Our micro-spikes were just barely enough to keep us from any serious injury, though full crampons would have been overkill, and snowshoes impossible, as there was nowhere near enough snow, though there may be now.
Previous trips up this trail flashed through my head. Once there was worse ice and snow at the ladder than there was on this day. Wicket tackled it like she tackles the ladder to the loft at camp, and with a slight boost or two, made her way up easily.
The most difficult part of the hike came at a spot least expected, the top few steps on the tower, which were completely frozen over with 45* ice. After a couple of backwards slides I managed to pull myself up the railing, as did Judy. Wicket dug in her claws and joined us.
There were no distant views from the tower to be had, though the clouds overhead parted for a few minutes. We could barely see the couple hundred yards to the top of the ski lift visible to the northeast. The stiff breeze which was indiscernible from below in the trees made its presence quickly known, and soon drove us back down into the trees.
Safely back down in the trees, we stopped for a quick bite and a sip of something before heading back down. At this point I always like to change into a dry shirt, which obviously and unfortunately requires taking everything above my waist off. I sweat so heavily on the way up I need to get out of the wet stuff before I get chilled. It works for me, but despite careful planning of my every move before doing it, it always seems to require more time and effort than can possibly be comfortable in the summit temps.
Somehow I always manage, but seldom without Jude’s help, to get out of the wet clothes and into the dry. This time I was not only soaked from the inside, but from the outside too, from brushing through the coated trees, and from the snow which continued to fall steadily while we hiked.
Before we reached the upper junction with the High Cannon Trail we ran into the only other two hikers we would see up this high. They had come up from Lonesome Lake by the Kinsman Ridge Trail and after questioning them a bit we decided that we would rather face that 6/10ths of steep trail down to Lonesome Lake and then have a much tamer trail than to return down the steep High Cannon Trail which had been quite slippery on the way up.
Kinsman Ridge Trail was steep, icy and treacherous as we had expected, but with extra care we were soon down to almost level ground in comparison. Once we had descended to Lonesome Lake Trail the hike out was pretty much a cakewalk compared to the steeps high above the lake.
We made a brief stop at the edge of the lake which had pulk tracks across it assuring its frozen safety. It was snowing hard as we left the lake. Less than an hour later we were watching a sun setting behind clouds through the windshield of the car as we headed south out of the notch.
Read MoreLonesome Lake/Hi-Cannon/Kinsman Ridge Trail
6.1 Miles 2350' Elevation gain
Kevin, Judy & Wicket
This was our 7th trip to Cannon Mountain. It was Wicket’s first, bringing her total to twelve. Although there were several inches of snow on the ground which continued to fall fiercely at first, then lighter throughout the entire hike, we can only count this as an autumn hike because technically, it is not winter according to the calendar.
We must adhere to the ancient laws set down that all “Winter” hikes must begin after the hour & minute of the winter solstice and end before the hour & minute of the vernal equinox. Winter doesn’t care about the “Solstice” and the “Equinox”, he come and goes as he pleases and has been dancing across the White Mountains for weeks.
Wicket is no stranger to the snow, having been housebroken in December of last year. After the long ride she was ready to go. We started out in 2 to 3” of new powder as we quickly rose from the parking lot to our turn at the junction with High Cannon Trail.
It began to snow hard as we rose through the dozens of short, steep switchbacks, rising through the mixed birch and spruce forest. Ice and frozen snow lay under the fresh powder as it accumulated, making the going a bit treacherous. The trees were coated in sugar.
High Cannon Trail is one of the last trails to the summit of a 4000 footer I had done before giving up on them until I had my hip-replacement. Despite the ice and snow, this trip felt like a walk in the park compared to that last trip in March of 2014.
It was difficult, yes, but it was pain-free this time. I was not forced to make the entire hike feeling as though I had a knife stuck in my hip, which is what bone on bone arthritis feels like. Constantly. I cannot describe the elation of moving freely along the trail again, pain free, after so many years.
Wicket bounced along the trail alternating between being right at my heel and taking off, slightly ahead, sweeping the trail free of furry rodents for our safe passage before, returning to check behind to be sure her mama was still coming along.
Our micro-spikes were just barely enough to keep us from any serious injury, though full crampons would have been overkill, and snowshoes impossible, as there was nowhere near enough snow, though there may be now.
Previous trips up this trail flashed through my head. Once there was worse ice and snow at the ladder than there was on this day. Wicket tackled it like she tackles the ladder to the loft at camp, and with a slight boost or two, made her way up easily.
The most difficult part of the hike came at a spot least expected, the top few steps on the tower, which were completely frozen over with 45* ice. After a couple of backwards slides I managed to pull myself up the railing, as did Judy. Wicket dug in her claws and joined us.
There were no distant views from the tower to be had, though the clouds overhead parted for a few minutes. We could barely see the couple hundred yards to the top of the ski lift visible to the northeast. The stiff breeze which was indiscernible from below in the trees made its presence quickly known, and soon drove us back down into the trees.
Safely back down in the trees, we stopped for a quick bite and a sip of something before heading back down. At this point I always like to change into a dry shirt, which obviously and unfortunately requires taking everything above my waist off. I sweat so heavily on the way up I need to get out of the wet stuff before I get chilled. It works for me, but despite careful planning of my every move before doing it, it always seems to require more time and effort than can possibly be comfortable in the summit temps.
Somehow I always manage, but seldom without Jude’s help, to get out of the wet clothes and into the dry. This time I was not only soaked from the inside, but from the outside too, from brushing through the coated trees, and from the snow which continued to fall steadily while we hiked.
Before we reached the upper junction with the High Cannon Trail we ran into the only other two hikers we would see up this high. They had come up from Lonesome Lake by the Kinsman Ridge Trail and after questioning them a bit we decided that we would rather face that 6/10ths of steep trail down to Lonesome Lake and then have a much tamer trail than to return down the steep High Cannon Trail which had been quite slippery on the way up.
Kinsman Ridge Trail was steep, icy and treacherous as we had expected, but with extra care we were soon down to almost level ground in comparison. Once we had descended to Lonesome Lake Trail the hike out was pretty much a cakewalk compared to the steeps high above the lake.
We made a brief stop at the edge of the lake which had pulk tracks across it assuring its frozen safety. It was snowing hard as we left the lake. Less than an hour later we were watching a sun setting behind clouds through the windshield of the car as we headed south out of the notch.
