Chandler Brook Trail

Stats
Date: July 5, 2019
Miles: .9 redline miles, 5.5 total miles
Elevation Gain: 1,552
Trails: Chandler Brook Trail

Nancy’s Facebook Post:

Sharing my struggles is harder than sharing my triumphs. I woke up at 3 in the morning, my mind racing with fear thinking about our hiking plan for last Friday. I was still tired from Monday’s hike and I just wasn’t feeling it. But I talked myself forward, got up, dressed and drove 3 hours to meet Pat for breakfast in Gorham, NH. Then we drove up the Washington Auto Road, left my car at the summit and parked her car at the Chandler Brook trailhead. We started hiking down the side of Mt. Washington; straight down. The trail ran alongside Chandler Brook, with lots of beautiful waterfalls, but I didn’t notice. I was silent, a battle going on inside me. The longer we hiked the more ferocious my internal battle became. We reached the Great Gulf Trail and started towards our ultimate destination, the Sphinx Trail, a Terrifying 25 that is very steep, very rough and has some difficult scrambles. That trail would bring us back up to the ridge where we would hike to the summit of Washington to my car.

Pat and I took a break next to a beautiful cascade and my tears came. Pat said kindly, “If you can’t connect with me and can’t get your head in the game, we should turn around.” I said, “Let’s turn around.” It is so hard to be the person to turn us around. “I’m tired and I don’t want to be terrified.” My head, or my ego, wanted to keep going, to check off another Terrifying 25 trail, to post another triumph. But my heart, she wanted a break. She didn’t want to be there and she tried to tell me over and over again until I finally listened.

I work with an amazing teacher and I can hear him saying, — Nancy, by listening to your heart and turning around you may have avoided a much worse fate had you continued. I know that turning around was the right thing for me. And Pat’s kindness and clarity helped me find mine. My head tells me I am a wimp. But my heart is grateful I listened. And in that moment of turning around we were living; intensely living. Going back up the steep Chandler Brook Trail was not easy – but it was right. I can be terrified another day. I’m listening to my heart and taking care of myself.

Pat’s Trip Report:

Nancy and I plan an ambitious hike for the Terrifying 25 list. We drive two cars up the Auto Road on Mt. Washington, leave one car at the top and one car on the Chandler Brook Trail pull-off. We want to descend the Chandler Brook Trail, hike a short distance on the Great Gulf Trail and ascend on the Sphinx Trail, then to the summit and the parking lot.

The Chandler Brook Trail starts off as a scramble on a talus field, in and out of brush at the top. We move down cautiously, but at a decent pace. The Chandler Brook Trail isn’t even a mile long (it’s .9) and it leads from the Auto Road down to the floor of the Great Gulf and connects with the Great Gulf Trail.

A young couple who say they are going to Mt. Jefferson via Six Husbands Trail and down the Sphinx Trail start out behind us but soon catch up. We stop to take off our boots for one of the four Chandler Brook water crossings. The trail continues steeply through wet and dry pine duff and over rocks and roots. Black flies are out but I soaked myself in Ben’s at the trailhead so I’m okay. I keep thinking about how hard ascending this trail would be…little did I know.

The second water crossing has one dry option that I don’t like so we walk up the falls a bit and walk through the shallow water. Then we’re back into the trees and rough footing until we reach the third crossing. This one is a bit sketchy but we make it across, although Nancy ends up with wet boots.

The trail then moves away from the brook and the descent moderates. Despite being rough, we make good time to the junction of the Great Gulf Trail. Nancy hasn’t seemed herself since I saw her face through the car window as she sat parked in front of Welsh’s Restaurant. We talk about the day ahead and skid around the anxiety I feel about doing Six Husbands during our Madison Hut stay planned for later in the summer. Nancy doesn’t say much.

On the Chandler Brook Trail she is quiet and withdrawn. I ask what is going on and she says she can’t talk about it. I let my mood be affected by hers and my mind runs a gamut of emotions ranging from anger to compassion to anxiety and back again. I am not able to break through her reserve.

We start up the Great Gulf Trail, which has good footing, although we encounter quite a few blow downs and other detritus leftover from winter. I offer the lead to Nancy several times and she refuses. When she speaks, she speaks very softly and I find it difficult to hear her over the sound of water rushing near the trail. I keep asking her to repeat herself, which only makes her clam up even more. The hike isn’t going well and I am becoming withdrawn myself. I don’t think I have it in me to be the locus of inspiration and strength to get us up the Sphinx Trail.

We come to an area on the trail that I remember from hiking this trail last October. Slabs and ledges run along the West Branch Peabody River that make footing extremely sketchy. We bushwhack around the bad areas and arrive at a huge slab next to a waterfall. Nancy asks to rest so we stop and take off our packs. It’s 12:30 pm, and we eat a snack. Black flies torment us. Nancy is very quiet sitting next to me and I speak to her with as much kindness and comfort as I can muster. She says she doesn’t want to be terrified. I understand that since I’ve been feeling my own version of terrified after hiking these last few Terrifying 25 trails. It dawns on me that it’s going to take two strong, motivated individuals to succeed in climbing the trails on this list. And what I see sitting next to me is a sad, exhausted and anxious friend.

I suggest we turn around. Nancy struggles to make a decision. Everything feels so bad that no choice feels right. She’s very sure that she doesn’t want to feel terrified and she finally says, “Okay, let’s go back.” As we pack up our gear, she changes her mind a couple of times and I tell her that if we continue on, I need her to be in the hike with me, 100%, determined to make a strong go of it.

In the end, she decides to hike back. It’s the right choice. I suggest we take a break from hiking, at least of the Terrifying 25, so we can both recover before venturing out again. I suggest we cancel our Madison Hut trip as well. She is eloquent, both physically and verbally, when she looks me in the eyes and says, “I’m not having any fun.”

The walk to the junction of the Chandler Brook Trail is a trudge. Time moves slowly for me and I stop often to console her. She keeps apologizing and I keep telling her there’s no need for apologies. The situation is what it is and the decision to turn around is the right one.

We eat lunch at the trail junction and the mood between us begins to feel a little lighter, brought on by relief, I suspect. After policing the area, we haul on our packs and begin the climb up the .9 of the Chandler Brook Trail. Nancy is already feeling down and exhausted and the first part of the trail that isn’t even steep begins kicking our butts, hers worse than mine. We frequently stop to rest as we make our way through the maze of short water crossings and rocky footing at the lower end of the trail.

When we start climbing the steeper sections, moments of rest become more frequent. We drink a lot of water and I’m glad I brought a liquid with electrolyte supplements in it. Several times she says she doesn’t think she can make it and I encourage and bolster her, reminding her of the strength inside her that has carried her over so many miles and up so many mountains. I stop and lend a hand up big steps as we climb higher. The water crossings steal even more energy as we ascend. Every step is treacherous. I walk maybe 100 feet before having to stop and rest. I look back at Nancy waiting for her nod before I continue on. When we hit the talus field, we have to concentrate so hard on our footing that I almost feel nauseated.

Finally! Finally, I see the end of the trail and we heave our soaked, dirty, bug-bitten, bruised and scraped bodies over the last batch of rocks and onto the Auto Road near my car. I don’t look at the sight-seers who stop to take pictures from their cars and we don’t say much as we drive to the upper parking lot to her car. The summit is still in a cloud, breezy and much cooler. We walk to the restaurant/information center in tank tops and shorts to change. I sit with her in her car for a while, not saying much, mostly just being together.

It will take some time and talk to work our way through the significance of this hike.