In 2006, I got married to the love of my life. One week prior, I brought my dad up to the Franconia Ridge for the first time. Even though he’s been a NH resident and hiker all his life, he’d never been so I just had to take him. This is the spot that I visit over and over again – the Pemi is my favorite place on earth, and I wanted to share that with him while we hung out prior to my wedding. It was incredible, and he absolutely loved it. So, with the next exciting change coming in my life (baby on the way – due TOMORROW!), we thought it would be fitting to hit the other side of the Pemi for another grandiose location he’s never visited – the Bonds.
This trip actually happened May 9th, and so the weather was slightly different than it is today on June 18th. The first 5 miles were a confidence building cake walk for my dad, nearly 50 now. Once we hit the Bondcliff trail for the final 4.4 mile push, the story changed a bit. It’s spring, and “valley dwellers get the itch” (as I say) … we anticipated the worst, but actually dealing with challenges are always different than getting prepared for them. There are 3 large crossings of the Black Brook that were quite swollen with the spring runoff. In fact, the first one took us over 20 minutes (as I carefully avoided soaking my back, and thus my camera gear!). The others were interesting because as we got close to the water, there was a lot of snow nearby the crossings due to the temps and moisture. We’d opted to leave the snowshoes behind in hopes of more of an icy monorail for which crampons and stablicers would do just fine. The weather was fine until we got beyond the final crossing and started up beyond The Staircase – we could see across over Owl’s Head that there were big storms hitting the Franconia Ridge. It wasn’t going to be long before we’d be in the thick of it, too. While we kept an eye to the sky, we scrambled over a 3 foot deep monorail of snow and ice. We both postholed now and then, but we managed without too much hassle (it just slowed us down a bit). We found a spot to camp just below timberline off in the woods, which fit into our plan perfectly. That plan was to photograph Bondcliff at sunset, sunrise, and by the light of the full moon. So, as we scrambled to set up camp, thunder rolled in closer and closer, and just as we completed our setup the first drops of rain came.
This trip actually happened May 9th, and so the weather was slightly different than it is today on June 18th. The first 5 miles were a confidence building cake walk for my dad, nearly 50 now. Once we hit the Bondcliff trail for the final 4.4 mile push, the story changed a bit. It’s spring, and “valley dwellers get the itch” (as I say) … we anticipated the worst, but actually dealing with challenges are always different than getting prepared for them. There are 3 large crossings of the Black Brook that were quite swollen with the spring runoff. In fact, the first one took us over 20 minutes (as I carefully avoided soaking my back, and thus my camera gear!). The others were interesting because as we got close to the water, there was a lot of snow nearby the crossings due to the temps and moisture. We’d opted to leave the snowshoes behind in hopes of more of an icy monorail for which crampons and stablicers would do just fine. The weather was fine until we got beyond the final crossing and started up beyond The Staircase – we could see across over Owl’s Head that there were big storms hitting the Franconia Ridge. It wasn’t going to be long before we’d be in the thick of it, too. While we kept an eye to the sky, we scrambled over a 3 foot deep monorail of snow and ice. We both postholed now and then, but we managed without too much hassle (it just slowed us down a bit). We found a spot to camp just below timberline off in the woods, which fit into our plan perfectly. That plan was to photograph Bondcliff at sunset, sunrise, and by the light of the full moon. So, as we scrambled to set up camp, thunder rolled in closer and closer, and just as we completed our setup the first drops of rain came.
Then, they stopped, and the sky turned a strange hue of peach. It was quite unsettled, and looked almost other-worldly. We shot up to the cliffs where dad had his first peak at the cliffs. He was in awe, as we all are for our first trip to the Bonds. I walked with him to the edge, where I planned to use him as my ‘model’ to photograph the cliffs…you know, add perspective and scale, introducing the human element to all of that incredible granite…anyhow, he got weak at the knees. He instantly got vertigo as he ventured out. In a moment though, he fought it off and enjoyed the incredible view of the Pemi while I shot for about 30 minutes in non-ideal conditions. The winds were picking up, and the sky threatened more with each passing second. We returned to camp hoping to head back up at sunset, during the middle of the night, and in the morning.
Mother Nature had other plans.
We ate and sipped Bandit Brand Red Wine while our tent was hammered with rain, wind, and even some freezing rain/hail like falling objects. Oh, not to mention thunder and lightening. We slept only a bit that night, and headed out just before 6 am (in the rain) to return to the car.
We talked about all kinds of things on the way down. We made it without incident back over the monorail, back across the further-swollen crossings, and all the way through the 9.4 miles that stood between us and our cars. I carried about 35 lbs of camera gear (lights, tripods, lenses, body), food, survival essentials, and our tent. Dad carried essentials and what not. We were soaked, our gear was dry (I love a quality pack cover and love dry bags even more), but we were happy. Hiking does that for both of us – a rush of endorphins that makes you forget any aches and pains and fears. We came out with only a few photos and, as always, a great tale of another adventure in NH’s incredible Greatscapes.
We ate and sipped Bandit Brand Red Wine while our tent was hammered with rain, wind, and even some freezing rain/hail like falling objects. Oh, not to mention thunder and lightening. We slept only a bit that night, and headed out just before 6 am (in the rain) to return to the car.
We talked about all kinds of things on the way down. We made it without incident back over the monorail, back across the further-swollen crossings, and all the way through the 9.4 miles that stood between us and our cars. I carried about 35 lbs of camera gear (lights, tripods, lenses, body), food, survival essentials, and our tent. Dad carried essentials and what not. We were soaked, our gear was dry (I love a quality pack cover and love dry bags even more), but we were happy. Hiking does that for both of us – a rush of endorphins that makes you forget any aches and pains and fears. We came out with only a few photos and, as always, a great tale of another adventure in NH’s incredible Greatscapes.
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