Kerosene
09-05-2002, 14:42
It was a relatively short day mileage-wise, but time seemed to stretch on and on. In March of 1975 we entered the foothills of Mt. Everett heading toward Jug End on the 4th day of a section hike from Lee, MA to the NY/CT border. Snow was still on the north-facing slopes, but we were faring okay. However, the first real precipitation of the trip arrived in the form of a slight rain just before Jug End. We donned our raingear and started climbing the straight up to the ridge, during which time I realized that my new rain chaps were too long for me; I kept stepping on the ends of them while walking uphill.
We traversed several minor summits before descending to begin climbing the northern arm of Mt. Everett. The rain turned to sleet and then wet snow as we gained altitude. We didn’t stop often for fear of getting colder than we already were. The climb seemed to go on forever (it used to be 12.5 miles from Sheffield, where we started the day, to the top of Mt. Everett, but now it's only 9.1 according to the 2001 Data Book).
We finally neared the top of the mountain. The only way I could tell was because the vegetation thinned out, the fog was so thick. Near the summit there was a slick patch of ice covering about 10 yards of the uphill Trail. We knew we had to be close to the lean-to (since torn down), so I scampered up and searched ahead. I soon reached the firetower at the summit and realized that we had bypassed the shelter. I started to worry that they had taken it down, but I re-read the hiking guide and realized it was by a road we had crossed just before the ice patch.
I slowly stumbled downhill, sliding on all fours down the ice patch and turned into a parking lot by the end of the road. A few yards in we could barely see the outline of the lean-to not 40 yards from the Trail.
We stumbled in, and I realized that we had to get warm – fast. Sleeping bags came out and we had a small snack. We all just wanted to go to sleep, but I got up enough energy to heat some soup. The fog was so thick that it dampened everything in the shelter. In retrospect, we were probably in the first stages of hypothermia, a condition that was not as well recognized by the general public in the mid-70’s as it is now. We were fortunate to have found shelter when we did.
While it was a miserable, cold, wet day, we were finally warm. We woke up to a gorgeous, memorable morning. The cloud layer was now below the 2,602-foot summit with a warming sun reflecting off the cloud tops (click here (http://www.whiteblaze.net/gallery//showphoto.php?photo=155) for a photo that doesn't begin to capture the view). The view and our ability to overcome moderate adversity (we were 17 at the time) renewed our vigor in the hike (which came in handy when I slipped on the solid ice of the Trail on the north side of Sages Ravine (http://www.whiteblaze.net/gallery//showphoto.php?photo=156) and almost fell into the overflowing brook. I still remember the view and how I felt getting up that morning.
We traversed several minor summits before descending to begin climbing the northern arm of Mt. Everett. The rain turned to sleet and then wet snow as we gained altitude. We didn’t stop often for fear of getting colder than we already were. The climb seemed to go on forever (it used to be 12.5 miles from Sheffield, where we started the day, to the top of Mt. Everett, but now it's only 9.1 according to the 2001 Data Book).
We finally neared the top of the mountain. The only way I could tell was because the vegetation thinned out, the fog was so thick. Near the summit there was a slick patch of ice covering about 10 yards of the uphill Trail. We knew we had to be close to the lean-to (since torn down), so I scampered up and searched ahead. I soon reached the firetower at the summit and realized that we had bypassed the shelter. I started to worry that they had taken it down, but I re-read the hiking guide and realized it was by a road we had crossed just before the ice patch.
I slowly stumbled downhill, sliding on all fours down the ice patch and turned into a parking lot by the end of the road. A few yards in we could barely see the outline of the lean-to not 40 yards from the Trail.
We stumbled in, and I realized that we had to get warm – fast. Sleeping bags came out and we had a small snack. We all just wanted to go to sleep, but I got up enough energy to heat some soup. The fog was so thick that it dampened everything in the shelter. In retrospect, we were probably in the first stages of hypothermia, a condition that was not as well recognized by the general public in the mid-70’s as it is now. We were fortunate to have found shelter when we did.
While it was a miserable, cold, wet day, we were finally warm. We woke up to a gorgeous, memorable morning. The cloud layer was now below the 2,602-foot summit with a warming sun reflecting off the cloud tops (click here (http://www.whiteblaze.net/gallery//showphoto.php?photo=155) for a photo that doesn't begin to capture the view). The view and our ability to overcome moderate adversity (we were 17 at the time) renewed our vigor in the hike (which came in handy when I slipped on the solid ice of the Trail on the north side of Sages Ravine (http://www.whiteblaze.net/gallery//showphoto.php?photo=156) and almost fell into the overflowing brook. I still remember the view and how I felt getting up that morning.