Mount Nancy: Part 2

This post follows part one here. Having decided to make a second attempt to hike Nancy, I returned to Norcross Pond via the Nancy Pond Trail. Almost three months had passed, and the deep, wet, melting snow was gone. The trail around the pond was lush and green. Dragonflies buzzed past me as I made my way past my original turnaround point months before. I surveyed the pond now. The weather was warming towards a high of 70F. A few waves rippled on the lake, but it was almost silent here. I looked down. A small brown snake, pencil thin, slithered past my boot. It was no more than 6 inches long. He’d have to be an over achiever to take me out.

The trail was farther away from the shoreline of the lake, and now was quite easy to follow. I pulled my GPS map out of my pack. I only needed to walk a few hundred yards to the point where I would have to leave the Nancy Pond Trail and venture up towards the unofficial path to the summit. Although this part of the hike was technically a bushwack, it is popular enough that an established “herd path” made by other hikers would most likely be easy to detect. There were several possibilities, but I came to one that was very obvious. Some branches had been placed across it’s entrance to discourage hikers from thinking it was the Nancy Pond Trail.

I was amazed at how wide and well defined the herd path was, and set out. There were a few “blowdowns” that presented themselves, but I easily ducked under these fallen trees. Before long, the trail began to narrow. Soon it was just shoulder width. I soon reached a stream running across the path over some wet ledges. I would have to cross it carefully. To my left, it dropped off about 40 feet.

I would have to step in the running water and get my boots wet, but it was better than trying a risky maneuver, slipping and falling 40 feet here in the woods where no one might find me.

I was on my way again, but now the path was overgrown with fir trees. Looking down, I could see the path, but looking forward my view was completely obstructed. Wearing safety glasses was a must to keep branches that brushed my face from catching me in the eyes. I knew I was the only hiker to have reached this point today. Numerous spider webs wrapped around by nose and face as I broke through them on my way up to the top. The trail was very steep, and my heart pounded with the exertion. I encountered a tall fir that had fallen, completely covering the way forward, but I was able to make my way around it, finding a trampled detour that others had taken.

The trail began to flatten out. I could see a bit farther now, perhaps 15 feet in front of me. The trees and brush were no longer as dense as moments ago. In front of me was a small clearing. A bit of open ledge. I could see the sky.

Stepping out on the ledge, I could see a narrow view of the mountains. On my left was a crude sign marking the summit.

The mosquitos were thick here. They floated silently around me, hungry for a meal. My heavy application of repellent held them off, but I could not stay here.

I turned and began my descent. Careful foot placement is key. I’ve never fallen ascending, but going down is another story.

It took about thirty minutes to reach the level ground by the lakes. The weather was fine, and I was glad the hard part was behind me. I found a spot to have lunch near Nancy Pond. There are fine views of the Bonds from one end of Norcross Pond. A couple sat eating lunch enjoying the views.

I walked a bit, reaching Nancy Pond and rested here for lunch. Knowing I would probably never return here, I took my sandwich and stood by the edge of the lake to take in the view.

Across the pond, I detected movement from the corner of my eye.

A giant female moose was feeding on the opposite shore. Easily 7 feet tall at the shoulders, she froze, watching a bird land on the lake near her. The splash landing was the only sound that broke the quiet of the lake.

I was awestruck by the sighting. I had never seen a moose in all my time hiking. In fact I had recently told a friend that I rarely saw wildlife in the woods. Now I could happily amend that statement.

I watched the moose for a few more minutes. When I folded up my lunch wrappings the sound seemed loud. I swear the moose stopped and listened. One last look and I slipped my pack on my shoulders and hiked out of the woods. I left Nancy, and never would see her again.