Some days, nothing goes as planned. I was supposed to ski Tuckerman’s, but then the weather didn’t look right for it. Then I was supposed to hike with a buddy, but he had to cancel. So, instead, I found myself hiking alone on a 7.5-mile wet pile of stew that should have taken four or five hours in good conditions, but I had to run it in three.
Smarts Mountain has been on my radar for a while, but it jumped to the top of my list after recently bumping into a hiker on Moosilauke. She spoke of it with such fondness, telling us how she slept out on the observation deck, it was too much for me to resist. When I headed out Friday morning, I knew there was a chance the recent rains were going to cause a big spring melt-off, but I discounted it, believing it couldn’t be too bad. Unfortunately, my anticipation of just how wet it was going to be didn’t come close to reality.
The “dryer” Lambert Ridge Trail. Mostly snow on the valley between Lambert Ridge and Smarts Mountain.
The Lambert Ridge Trail
The Lambert Ridge Trail is a challenging little hike. The ascent starts almost immediately, with a steep pitch that eventually leads you over some narrow ledges. These perches offer a great view of Smarts Mountain in the distance, and if I had more time, it would have been a good place to enjoy a break. But as I emerged on one rock outcropping, I received an email from my sons’ baseball coach asking for help tracking the team’s stats that afternoon. If I was going to get there by the game’s start, I needed to eliminate 1-1.5 hours of hiking time.
On Lambert Ridge, Decision Time
With Smarts a still good ways off, I figured if I could make it to the summit in 2 hours, I could maybe descend in an hour, giving me enough time to make it to the game. It was tight, but I thought doable. Unfortunately, it was so wet in some places and snowy in others, the conditions made for an unusually slow slog. After thirty minutes of slushing through, falling along the way and drawing blood from a wound I couldn’t identify, it was clear that I wasn’t going to be able to make summit and arrive at the game on time. I had to make a choice. So, with about 15-20 minutes to go before the summit, I turned around. I may have sworn a little bit. I’m also pretty sure there was a witness.
Whose blood is that? Wait, is that mine? Um, Matt, well there’s nobody else out here…
Changing Plans
Right as I turned around, I came upon a hiker on his way up. Not wanting to explain the baseball game thing, I told him, “I want to go to the top, but I’ve been called back to work.” Which is sorta, kinda true in a way. Tracking baseball stats on Gamechanger isn’t a paid gig, but anyone who has used it knows that it’s not a party. “You probably heard me cursing just now,” I said. He smiled in reply.
I asked if he knew anything about the Ranger Trail’s distance, my planned descent route. He confirmed it was roughly the same distance as the Lambert Ridge Trail I came up, but I knew the Ranger Trail mostly graded down the whole way—much better for speed purposes. The Lambert Ridge Trail ran up and over several ledges and would take more time to navigate with the sporadic ice and snow. The Ranger Trail it is.
The Ranger Trail
What I chose was a river. For much of the descent, I basically ran through a stream as the spring melt was in a torrent. Under the pressure of the clock, I didn’t bother to pick my way through the dryer edges of the trail, but even if I did, the edges were completely saturated. When I tried to step on some of them, my feet sunk down six inches into the mud and my boots filled with water. There was no point. Still wearing spikes for the array of footing conditions, I decided to walk directly down the center of the trail, over ice, through water, for three miles. I was soaked. At one point I had a full river crossing where there was no choice but to walk right in.
Pants, boots, and socks, soaked through for 3 miles on the Ranger Trail.
About twenty minutes before returning to the parking lot, I met a young lady coming up the trail. She said she had been hiking for forty-five minutes and wanted to know how much time she had left. Wearing sneakers and armed with no supplies other than her cellphone, she looked wholly unprepared for the prospect. Figuring she had at least 1.5 hours to go if she was lucky, I advised her not to bother. In about 10 minutes she was going to hit the aforementioned river and wearing what she was wearing, she’d be crazy to try.
All Types, All Good
Every spring I bump into novice hikers like this who get a whiff of better weather and attempt to climb a mountain, perhaps for the first time. A lot of people might begrudge this lady’s lack of preparation, but I like seeing people trying to get out there, no matter their hiking savvy. Good on her for taking on the challenge. Even though she presumably didn’t make summit, she learned a few things about spring hiking in the mountains and will probably be better prepared next time. One hopes, at least.
After parting ways, I sprinted along, keeping my spikes on over the remaining snow mush until I reached the trailhead. When I got back to the truck I had to laugh. I’ve been leaving free copies of my book on the back of my pickup bed, and I discerned that the gentleman I met earlier had grabbed a copy before he found me, cursing in the woods. He’s going to think I’m a lunatic before he even reads the first page.
Grant Brook running fast with the spring melt.
🏔️ Smarts Mountain via Lambert Ridge & Ranger Trail Loop
Already I’m thinking that the next time I head to this mountain, I’ll be trying a different route known as the Daniel Doan Trail. But if you want to follow this route, here are some details to help you plan.
Location: Lyme, NH
Summit Elevation: 3,238 ft
Trailhead: Dorchester Road (Appalachian Trail crossing)
Total Distance: ~7.9 miles (loop)
Total Elevation Gain: ~2,300 ft
Difficulty: Moderate to Challenging
Time Estimate: 4.5–6.5 hours, depending on pace and stops