West Quarry Attempt

Submitted by Pat

Stats
Mountain: West Quarry – attempt
Date: February 11, 2017
Time: 5 hours

  • two hikers at the trailhead on a snowy day
When I wake at 5:45 am the temperature outside is 9° and it’s snowing – light snow, fluffy and dry from the cold. The drive to Ackerly’s Grill is a bit sketchy and after a slight skid in a turn, I slow down even more. I keep thinking about Nancy driving in this. I wish I could contact her but don’t want to disturb her concentration while she’s driving by calling her.

I sit in the car in the Ackerly’s parking lot for 5-10 minutes before Nancy drives in and parks alongside me. It’s so good to see her safe. We eat, talk about our hike options, change into our boots and head to the Mt. Major parking lot, which joyfully has been plowed. With snowshoes on we start off on the blue blazed Mt. Major Trail. We hiked this trail back in January when there was much less snow. Everything looks different now in a fresh blanket of snow.

We haven’t hiked 2/10’s of a mile before I realize I’m not feeling very strong. As a result, I bring up the rear for most of the day. I’m out of breath and stay in that condition for the entire hike. My legs feel tired and I have to dig into my reserves to keep going.

We continue climbing on the Brook Trail because the grade is forgiving and our goal is West Quarry, with the possibility of adding Mt. Anna as well. I slog, head down, most of the time, but consciously try to look up and around me to make breathing easier and to appreciate the beauty surrounding me.

We finally reach an intersection close to the tops of Mts. Major and Straightback and take a right on the North Straightback Link trail. We meet a couple who have been breaking trail for us and they say they turned around on the Quarry trail due to a section of steep rock followed by a sharply slanted traverse through sparse forest. They say the trail is very icy with only a light covering of snow. We decide to explore the problem and see if it’s doable.

We scan the area and think we should give it a try. I go first and slide down the first section of ledges on my butt. I spot Nancy as she descends and then contemplate the traverse. I am unable to get any purchase on the hard ice sloping down the hill wearing snowshoes. We didn’t bring our crampons, didn’t think we’d need them. Not in the Belknaps. We discuss going straight down the descent, bypassing the traverse, but that route is also icy and steep and we would have to do a controlled slide from tree to tree. Not smart.

We finally admit that we have to turn around. Nancy is angry, frustrated that we’re going to have to walk away empty-handed, after so much effort. I am frustrated too, but am more concerned about how to retrace our steps back up to the top of the ledges. We realize quickly that we can’t get up the ledges wearing snowshoes and spend another 15 minutes taking them off and putting on our microspikes. We are literally clinging to the side of this hill while standing on a narrow path covered with unconsolidated snow over ice. There is no nothing to break our fall should we slip nor anything to lean on to brace ourselves as we change into microspikes.

I dig my snowshoes in and help Nancy put on her spikes, then take off my snowshoes and am confronted by my lack of flexibility. I end up having to kneel on the trail to stretch those damn things over my boots. I am beside myself with frustration. Anxiety causes me to hyperventilate. For the first time in years I can feel my ability to breathe freely closing down. Not good. Finally I get them on and help Nancy get up the first ledge. I hand her our snowshoes and poles and find a way to get myself up. Because I’m a little taller, I am able to get a handhold and pull myself up with brute upper body strength.

We finally make it back to safety and can vent our frustration. Unfortunately, Nancy is freezing. She’s wet and exhausted. I help her change into dry clothes and share some hot cocoa to give her hope and to ward off the cold that consumes her.

We go down the way we came up. My legs are trembling from the exertion and tired beyond comfort. The slog down feels long and we break up the monotony of the effort by eating some potato chips. We both need the salt and the carbs.

We meet at least three other teams of hikers on their way down. One is barebooting and we spend some time talking about how angry it makes us when people so thoughtlessly trash a beautifully packed trail. We arrive at the car at 2:15 pm, 5 hours after we start. Sitting down and finishing our chips feels amazing I am exhausted.