The skies were gray with the promise of new snow, there was quite allot of snow around the hut but it was well packed down. The Wildcat Ridge trail which began right near the hut however was a different story.
It was steeeeeeeeeep, and the snow was unpacked as we headed up. Soon I was straggling a little, sweating heavily and breathing hard. We climbed up and up and up and up. My boots were again getting soaked (darn suede leather!)
We ascended along several switchbacks and finally were on the summit of Wildcat A which was about 800 feet or so higher than the hut far below. There was a good viewpoint….whew! What a drop!
Scott had led the way, he was a strong hiker, Brian also had no problems. I was a bit ashamed of my stamina, after all I was just 26 years old. The deep snow and steep slopes had beat me up. We continued on and it was pretty gradual, a little downhill and then across the ridge we went.
I remember a few ups and downs, one particularly dangerous spot was where some water had frozen and we had to trek across the top of it. I was nervous but we kicked our way across. Seemed like we went on forever before we reached a point and Scott started to turn back.
It felt like we’d gone over several little mountains across that ridge, I don’t know if we ever got to the official (at that time) E peak of the NH four thousand footers. The hike back to A was tough, mostly uphill and we were plenty tired by the time we started downhill for Carter Hut.
Now I knew what fun sliding on my butt (or glissading) was. We zoomed down the slopes, taking shortcuts across switchbacks and arrived at the notch snow-covered, cold and hungry. After a nice lunch in the hut we geared up. I’d asked the caretaker if he could use my sleeping bag. One of the straps on my cheap pack broke so I had nowhere to put the bit heavy thing.
In the end the stupid bag ended up on my head draped over my body. My feet were dangerously cold by then, I was getting worried. It began to snow and we moved quickly down 19-mile brook trail. By late afternoon with the snow now falling heavily we reached the trailhead. Darkness was just beginning to fall and I gratefully unloaded the gear and myself in the station wagon.
My boots came off and soon the car’s heated air was blowing over my red tingly toes. I had survived an overnight into the mountains and across the ridge. It wasn’t much fun, I never hiked with Scott again (though I never held a grudge or complained) it just never worked out. I’ve revisited that area many times now in warmer weather and enjoyed the beauty of that wild place.