Old Speck: October 1, 2015

Mountain: Old Speck
Elevation: 4,170 (Maine's 5th Tallest, New England's 40th Tallest)
Route: Old Speck Trail
Mileage: 3.8 miles
Arya's Take: Booooooored Now


The reality of me hiking the New England 4,000 footers with my dog has usually been that I'm seeing a lot of old familiar places.  As I've mentioned in the past, I finished the 48 new Hampshire 4,000 footers when I was 15, so there isn't a whole lot of new ground for me to cover, so to speak.  Now, having moved to Vermont, I was able to do this a couple times, mainly with Arya's first-ever 4,000 footer, Killington.  But even then, I'd been hiking in Vermont before, and even though I hadn't done Killington, it's not like I was new to hiking in the Green Mountains.

This changed when we did Old Speck.  In an interesting quirk, Old Speck is actually the eastern-most peak in the White Mountains, technically belonging to the range that you probably associate most with New Hampshire.  It's right over the border in Grafton Notch, and so it was a natural starting point.  As a stroke of luck as well, I'd decided to take the better part of two weeks off after my wife and I got married (which I would strongly encourage of anyone getting hitched; we did NOTHING for two days after the wedding itself and it was incredibly restful), so I plotted to head up on October 1, figuring that it would still be reasonably warm up there.  Besides, I really had no idea what to expect from Maine, given that if I'm in it I'm more often than not down in Portland or Kennebunkport.  So I was excited.

Now, before I get into the actual hike, let me tell you that I'm glad I did this on vacation and not over a normal weekend, because it turns out, getting to this part of Maine from central Vermont is freaking impossible.  I headed out at the break of dawn (though it's October, so that was at like 7:00), and it took two hours and 45 minutes to just MAKE the trailhead.  Granted it was a pretty drive, as I got to head through far-northern New Hampshire and past the Presidentials on my way, but I really had no concept for what to expect once I got into Maine.  See, Vermont and New Hampshire are, much like most New England states, tiny.  I can be in 5 states and 1 Canadian province within a 3 hour drive of my house.  Maine, though, is the closest we have to a normal-sized state, and even when we crossed the border, we had many miles to go.  I'd actually asked my wife if I could borrow her CR-V to drive there instead of my Prius, since even though the gas mileage would be worse, her headlights are much better than mine, and I honestly had no idea when Arya and I would be making the trip back.

So we eventually puttered into the parking lot for Old Speck around 10:00, which was I supposed a little on the late side, and I jumped out of my wife's car to discover that it was FUCKING FREEZING.  Now I'm never one to start a hike layered up, since I sweat pretty much immediately and have to pause 10 minutes in to pack everything up, but when I saw that it was 37 degrees outside, I knew even I couldn't start in shorts and a tee shirt.  Arya was, of course, fine, as well as annoyed that I was taking so long to get ready.  And, reader, I'll have you know that I didn't devolve into a sweaty mess for 20 minutes.

Apart from that, though, it was a lovely New England fall day.  There was a fair amount of valley fog we had to contend with to start, which obscured some of our views of the notch when we'd gotten high enough (in the picture above, which was right by a cut-off rather weirdly named "The Eyebrow".  The leaves hadn't started to change really at all in Vermont or Massachusetts, but it was like heading 6 weeks into the future up in Maine.  This was especially odd to me, since I had felt like summer had persisted far further thanks to our wedding (the weather we had on the day itself felt more like July than September), and now the world was playing catch-up.

Arya and I followed a stream up past the Eyebrow, trying to get beyond the fog.  I was able to use my Maine Mountain Guide for the first time, and was struck at how much longer it seemed to be taking to get to the top of the ridge.  This really wouldn't surprise you if you looked at any topographical map worth its salt, but I had anticipated really being able to get on top prior to lunch time, and that looked less and less like it was going to happen.

Not that it wasn't a pleasant hike, of course; there was a peculiar flower/moss hybrid plant that kept following us as we went up the trail, but with the fog obscuring any views that we might have, once we left the path of the stream, there wasn't a whole lot to keep my interest.  I got a particularly annoying song stuck in my head, and with Arya charging ahead, there wasn't a whole lot I could do about it.

The other thing that really started to annoy me was a series of...well, they weren't quite false peaks, but they certainly made me feel like they were in my way.  After each one, I was convinced that we would start ascending Old Speck proper any minute now, and my hopes kept getting dashed.  I did start to feel a glimmer of hope when the clouds began to break enough for use to start getting some views, as well as using my Dad's old trick of watching the size and composition of the trees in the surrounding forest to gauge how high we were.  Eventually we reached the junction with the Mahoosuc Trail, which is where we left the AT and when I knew that we only had 0.3 miles to go till the summit.

And unfortunately, once we got there, it turned out to be a bit of a letdown.  The summit itself was just a dirt clearing surrounded by trees.  I mean, this is Maine's 5th tallest mountain, which is farther north and significantly taller than mountains like Camel's Hump or Abraham, and yet they had wonderful views in all directions.  Of course, there was a fire tower on top (seemingly the last one standing in the Whites; the Guide makes mention of plenty of former towers on summits),  but the ladder was vertical and Arya wasn't really feeling it.

The clouds continued their valiant attempts to break, though without the tower there wasn't much good it was going to do me, so I settled in for lunch.  Arya didn't really want anything to do with her lunch at first, patiently waiting me out to see if I would grow bored with mine, and I read up in the Maine Mountain Guide about the surrounding area and why, exactly, Old Speck is a holdover in the Whites.

I also looked at the maps that came with the guide for all regions of Maine, and realized that Old Speck might be our only Down East 4,000 footer for some time.  Most of the rest are located even farther north along the New Hampshire border (and look like a great series of hikes), but GODDAMN it would take all day to just get up there to do the likes of the Bigelows or Saddleback.  I've since resolved to make a weekend camping trip out of them, but Arya wasn't read for overnights yet.  And don't get me started on Katahdin.

I learned from my in a text over lunch that October 1 is National Black Dog Day (because every day seems to now be National or International *Something* Day), so with that in mind I gave Arya the last little bite of peanut butter and bread from my sandwich, and we headed back down.  The subpeaks were still annoying, and it seemed to take forever to get back to the Eyebrow.  I guess that's the blessing and curse of having a landmark or junction to look for right by the beginning of the trail, since on the way up you basically know "We haven't gone nearly that far yet", and on the way down you spend a looooooong time muttering "Where the hell is the Eyebrow"?  This wasn't helped by me knowing exactly how long it was going to take us to get home once we were done with the hiking bit, and how tired I would be when we did get home.

Eventually, though we were overlooking the Notch again, this time bathed in the fading autumn sunshine, and by the time we got back to the car, it was completely clear.  Arya did her customary "zonk out for the entire ride home" bit, and I was treated to another spectacular view as we passed through Gorham, NH and the Prezzies again, as the peaks of Mts. Madison and Adams were dappled in the twilight even as dusk came to the valley floor.  We did end up needing the CR-V's headlights on the way home, though only for the home stretch, and I felt good out our first foray into Maine hiking, even if it would be some time before we would be able to try it out again.  And, as mentioned previously, an October 1 hike would usually be seen by me as a nice cap to the season before swapping my hiking boots and pack fro skis and poles, but we still did have one last gasp, even as Autumn began to cede to Winter over the New England High Peaks.

Next up: Completing the set in VT!

-M