Nancy and I

Your old buddy Jack was in and out of sleep. The dawn was breaking and all was quiet. A voice whispered in his ear.

“When are you coming for me?”

Jack opened his eyes and rolled over. It wasn’t the wife, she was still asleep. He knew it was Nancy, calling him to her.

Jack had stalked her from afar for some time. On the internet in hiking groups, on maps and trail reports. Through the summer and fall, into winter. The time was never right. Now the shoe was on the other foot.

“When are you coming?”

The last day of winter had passed. Days were growing longer. Jack had been in other places biding his time. Perhaps he could make a rendezvous with her before the nasty trail conditions of the shoulder season set in.

Mount Nancy was about a ten mile round trip, located in the Pemigewasset Wilderness. Jack would need a full day. Nancy was not willing to give herself up freely. The last half mile would be a bushwack to the summit.

If Jack ever wanted to complete the goal of hiking the 100 Highest Mountains in New England, he would have to go to her.

Weather for the hike day looked good, but the trail conditions concerned him. He was hoping that someone had gone ahead recently and broken the trail out. It would be quicker and easier.

Hike Day

Jack was late. He arrived at the trailhead at 9am. The weather was already a lovely 1C, and it was due to get much warmer. The trail sported a deep snowpack. Jack guessed it was at least 60cm here at the trailhead. The softening snow meant he would have to get into snowshoes from the start.

The sound of crunching snow underfoot made Jack smile, but the trail was a mess. A hiker in bare boots had postholed his way along this section, and Jack had to dodge his exploded trail damage as he made his way towards the mountain.

After a mile and a half he came upon a curious sight. In the center of the trail was a pair of pants, belt still attached.

Jack looked around. He wondered where the hiker was. He’d heard stories of hikers who developed hypothermia shedding their clothes. Heck, he remembered that one about the college kid on Moosilauke who got lost. Luckily, search teams had found him wandering the mountain in his socks. Certain that he was alone, Jack soldiered on.

At three miles in, the bare boot tracks disappeared. Jack had been wondering if he was going to meet up with a hiker in just his undershorts on the summit, but he’d come to a different conclusion. He assumed the unprepared hiker had bare booted in jeans up the mountain. As he sunk deeper into the snow, his cotton pants became wet. Turing back, the hiker had jettisoned his now soaking wet, cold pants on the trail before hiking out to the road. Jack thought about the foolish hiker postholing bare legged in the crusty snow. An exfoliating experience of the most unpleasant kind.

Following the Leader

The trail before him bore signs of hikers in snowshoes. Jack was happy, someone had broken trail ahead of him. The trail was still soft, but was groomed by the party ahead of him. The trail began to grow steep.

Running in Heels

At this point Jack put on his “high heels.” His MSR snowshoes were mountaineering snowshoes, with agressive crampons for going uphill, and featured “televators”- a wire strap that could be raised to create a flat footbed when hiking on a steep incline.

Did Jack mention to you he loved his snowshoes? Oh yes, he adored them.

Luck Runs Out

At Nancy Pond, Jack’s luck ran out. Approaching the pond he greeted the hiking party that had paved his way, having lunch. Unfortunately for Jack, the broken trail ended here with them. he proceeded on his own towards Nancy.

He could see her now, on his right, and she looked far away. There was only a faint outline of the tracks from a previous hiker in the snow, quickly vanishing as the snow surface began to warm and melt.

Lunch at Norcross Pond

Jack had entered the Pemigewasset Wilderness. The sign, which is posted at chest height seemed short to him, as it was now at snowshoe level. Because it was close to St. Patrick’s Day, perhaps it had been lowered for leprechauns to view? No, it was more likely that he was standing on more than a meter of packed snow.

Jack reached Norcross Pond and decided to eat lunch. He had already come to the conclusion in his heart that he and Nancy would not be together on this fine day. He was losing the trail, and would need to rely on GPS or compass to get him to the path to the summit. The unbroken trail was slowing him down, and it was past noon. He could see Nancy over his shoulder, and she called to him with her siren song. He munched a power bar and sipped his water looking out over the pond.

Nancy’s calling was unbearable. Jack thought of Ulysses. Should he lash himself to a nearby pine tree to keep himself from the summit attempt? No. he shouldered his pack instead, and headed back the way he came. The snow was soft and sloppy now. it would be a long slog out empty handed. He would have to return again when the fates willed it , and the black flies of spring were past. His appointment with Nancy would have to wait.