With a buddy from work and the elder canine (Sierra) in tow, we headed for Lafayette Trailhead in Franconia Notch. We departed through Lafayette Campground. The going was rough in the beginning. My trail amigo was feeling under the weather, but soldiered on (kudos to him for this!). We pushed onward, switchbacking hard two times. The trailed level off, and we enjoyed the flattening out towards Lonesome Lake.
The winds in the Notch were coming off the water of Lonesome Lake and cutting through the trees. It was refreshing to say the least. We sailed around the southeastern edge of the Lake, making it to Lonesome Lake Hut. Here, we recharged: water, thought about getting some food, medicine for my compadre. About this time, the skies changed. We headed in to this trip fully aware of the weather forecast [scattered & severe t-storms, lightning, possibility of hail, gusts of wind, etc.]. We decided to let nature "do its thing." We tied Sierra to a post under an overhang near one of the bunk houses, unloaded some food, and chatted while watching the rain fall. It was never too bad. Just faint rolls of thunder. After maybe 20 minutes, the rain seemed light enough that we could soldier onward.
We packed up and headed out. I meant to bring us up Kinsman Pond Trail up to the hut. Due to my own misreading of signs and ignorance, we ended up taking Fishin' Jimmy Trail. There was a fair amount of up and down initially on this trail. I was still looking for Kinsman Trail, but we pushed on.
After maybe 45 minutes, the ascent began. My interpretation of the trail: rocks. Up. Rocks. Up. Repeat for an hour and 30 minutes. Sierra is a champion backpacker, but she struggles when there is no trail and just rocks. Four or five times, there were wooden steps anchored to otherwise slippery, steep rock faces. So this turned into carrying her for sections of the hike. Mind you, I am carrying a 40 pound pack and have now added a 50-53 pound dog. The last time I hoisted her, I was not confident I could do it. Glad we both stuck with it though.
We continued our ascent. Sierra eventually gave up and laid down at one of our water breaks. Good dog! My trail amigo and I chatted about the semantic difference between "climbing" and "hiking." This trailed seemed to lean a bit more towards the former, and less towards the latter. Regardless of the amount of sweat and lactic acid, we made the best of it.
We crested a batch of rocks, and we saw the sign notifying us that the campsite at Kinsman Pond was coming up. Excellent. A bit more ascending, a bit more, a bit more ... and then we saw the caretakers white tent through the trees. Score.
We circled through the tent platform sites: no dice. They were all taken. This was particularly disheartening since both I and my trail amigo were carrying tents. We headed to the hut, claimed a spot, and rolled out our sleeping pads and bags.
Fired up the stove, made dinner, fed Sierra, filtered some water. And about this time, the real storm rolled in. It was quick (maybe 30 minutes) but it did include the following: thunder, lightning, torrential rain (as in, buckets), and some hail to top it all off. Ha, hail. Awesome, especially because I was in a dry shelter. [A note about this shelter: Rebuilt in 2007, this shelter is quite nice. Large doorway, elevated and floor sleeping areas. Pegs for drying gear. Not a lick of "carvings" in the wood. Let's keep it that way, eh? I recommend making the trip and checking it out.]
Some late arrivals showed up soaked to the bone. Plenty of room in the shelter. The hut slept 8 (plus 2 dogs) comfortably. My trail amigo and I sipped some adult potables, traded stories, and called it a night. Evening temps were a balmy 48 degrees, but it was actually really nice. I'll take that over the warmth of black fly season any day.
Sleeping was not so great. Sierra thought we should get up at 3:00 am. Bad dog. I held her still until other started to stir. We rolled up of our sleeping pads, ate some oatmeal, fed Sierra, packed up, and headed down. This time, we were headed down Kinsman Trail Pond on the south side of the pond. Now, this trail is more of a brook than a trail. Imagine boulders varying in sizes: the size of a computer printer ... to, say, the size of your average Honda Civic. This continued for what felt like an inordinately long time. Ultimately, this section of the trail we were doing was only 2.5 miles. Those slippery, wet, slime covered rocks made it feel like much longer. Somewhere after all the rocks, we were to forge a steam. I made a misstep and landed hip deep in refreshingly cool mountain water. Boots, socks, shorts ... totally water logged. Meh, that's hiking!
We eventually converged with Cascade Brook Trail. Here, we took a left and ascended back up to Lonesome Lake Hut. This was only .8 miles, but again, a fair amount of rock hopping. We arrived at the hut. My trail amigo refilled his water, and I sat by the lake staring at Franconia Ridge bathed in 9 am sunlight. Then I laid down, pondering the quiet of the blue sky. A swim. Why not? I tied off Sierra, my trail amigo offered me his towel, and I dove in to Lonesome Lake. A invigorating dip after a sweaty morning. I got out and the wind coming across the lake wailed to life. I crouched behind my pack, blotting the wet spots where I could feel the chill the most. After changing and getting some food and water, we headed back towards the trail we came up and descended.
I cleaned Sierra's feet in the accompanying brook near the trail head [so much mud on her], got in the car, and coasted home.
This trip was a true pleasure, given what the forecast had me believing it may be like.
See you out there!
Pictures [didn't have the camera, so I used Google Images to give you an idea of what it was like. I do not own these photos.]:
1) Rough map of the area we hiked.
2) View across Lonesome Lake [background is Franconia Ridge]. Stunning, I know.
3) "The steps" on Fishin' Jimmy Trail
4) Kinsman Pond Hut
5) Kinsman Pond
