I Want to See Mountains!

Vermont and New Hampshire to Franconia Notch
August 18

Onrushing clouds broke around the rocky peak like waves on a rugged coastline. Ominous banks of billowing moisture bowed before Mount Killington, refusing to unleash fury upon the mountain top.

Northbound on the Appalachian Trail, Mount Killington, at over 4000 feet is the highest point since central Virginia, and the first peak bald peak in many miles.

The peaks in the south, balds, are often grassy and can grow trees, but due to harvesting and grazing remained bald. The mountains in the north climb into the alpine zone. Trees become stunted and windblown and eventually decide better of it, and refuse to live much higher than 4000 feet.

Climbing Glastenbury, Stratton, and Killington, I saw the increase in conifers. Spruce and Balsam Fir are omnipresent. As elevation increases, the needles surround and clutch their branches more tightly, growing thicker. This protects the trees from the surprisingly harsh conditions.

4000 feet in the west is laughable. There is typically not any snow that sticks around for the entire season in California at 4000 feet. But in the north east, 4000 feet is alpine. No one lives that high, barely anyone lives higher than 2000 feet.

The Appalachian Trail in New Hampshire goes over the summits of over 20 4000 footers. All of them are rocky and exposed. None of them have verdant deciduous trees.

Ladybird and I decided to tag a couple additional 4000 footers taking the Flume Slide Trail from Franconia Notch. The Flume slide trail is not recommended for south bound hikers. The ascent was at a 45 degree angle, sometimes steeper, up damp, slabby glacially, polished rocks. We scrambled, slipping backwards with every step, grasping violently for spindly trees, which clung loosely to the limited soil. Finally we reached a narrow shoulder and proceeded on actual real live trail to the summit of Mount Flume, then Liberty.

Franconia Ridge was spectacular in its sunlit glory. Dozens, nay, hundreds of day hikers crawled along the trail like ants on a discarded candy. Brightly colored fleece jackets dotted the rocky landscape. As evening approached, the day hikers departed, leaving the overnight hikers. This was when the gravity of the present situation hit me, pleasantly. I am alpine. I am above tree line. This Sierra boy feels at home.