“Handicapped though he is by the lack of continuous lifelong training, the experienced amateur has this one great advantage over the average guide, by far the majority of his climbing is on ground that is new to him, so that his experience of dealing with new situations is constantly growing, and his capacity for mountain exploration is developed alongside his capacity for mountain climbing.”
—Eric Shipton, Upon That Mountain
I discovered new land this week! Okay, well, not new, but new to me. It felt like I was discovering new land, which I believe is the pinnacle of all mountain explorations, so that’s all that matters. Crunching my way up the Wapack Trail, this feeling was aided by the fact that I was all alone for six miles, with no other company than the chirping birds, no doubt confused by the sudden break in the cold weather.
Like many hikers in the region, with the frigid temperatures and snow forecasted for this weekend, I opted to get some climbing in on Thursday, where the sun was out and the temperature rose to the forties in the lowlands. Because of the cold weather these last two weeks, I anticipated being cold and ended up overdressed in long underwear. But I didn’t mind it. I was able to disregard the discomfort of my overheated nether regions because I was on a mission.
The Wapack Range
One of the things that happens in the evolution of a peakbagger’s life is that they are no longer satisfied with hiking established lists. They want to find new peaks to climb. Go places less people go to. And sure, if you are blessed with the good fortune of living at the foothills of some majestic mountain range like the Andes or the Rockies, you have some pretty spectacular places to go. But if you are a flatlander living in southern New Hampshire, you have to broaden your imagination. Such is the case for me with the Wapack Range.
Now to be fair, the Wapack Range is well-travelled. There are trail races along the Wapack Trail, and tons of people climb these mountains every year. And they’re not big. They are big enough to make you feel like you’ve done something more than a little hike, but not something crazy epic that leaves you in awe of the experience. Nevertheless, they get you out, and when I searched the peak lists of Peakbagger.com and didn’t see any established list highlighting them, I decided to explore them.
Mount Monadnock, as seen from the space between New Ipswich Mountain and Barret Mountain
The Lay of the Land
My latest exploration of the Wapack Range included two peaks: Barrett Mountain and New Ipswich Mountain. Leaving the parking lot across the street from the now retired Windblown Ski Center, I walked past the center and made my way to the Wapack Trailhead. The only sign of life came from the Windblown visitor house, now used for residence purposes only, where smoke emanated from the chimney. Other than that, there were a couple of parked cars indicating someone was around, but on the trail, I was completely alone.
Trudging up in snowshoes made the effort harder than usual, and the day went longer than expected. Originally, I was hoping for a two-hour hike, and I almost turned around after summiting Barrett because I knew if I tried for New Ipswich, I wouldn’t hit that mark. But then I figured, what the hell. Who knows the next time you’re going to be out this way? So I hiked the extra mile up to New Ipswich, turning this into a three-hour adventure. Maybe three and a half.
On the Wapack Trail
Explorers of the World
The stretch between Barrett and New Ipswich is lovely, and as I hiked, I started to wonder how many people actually do come this way. I just assumed that because these mountains are little, and the Wapack relatively well-known to outdoor enthusiasts in the area, plenty come here. But on a winter day, with no human tracks other than my own, it felt like maybe this area is largely unknown.
Speaking of tracks, I came across several animal tracks along the climb. There were plenty of squirrel tracks, and other little critters, but there was also a set of tracks that ran for two miles along the trail, right over the summits of both mountains. They were so deliberate, it made me wonder if humans aren’t the only ones who are into peakbagging.
It also made me really question my tracking abilities, because I swear, at first the tracks looked like deer tracks—small holes with little hooves, perfectly spaced apart in the way you’d expect a deer’s legs to work together. But then the tracks looked more paw-like, as if a wolf made them. Could there be wolves out here? Probably. At one point they even looked bigger than a wolf’s tracks to me—like a cougar’s. Could that be? Then they looked like a deer’s again. I was so confused. I was sharing the trail with a shapeshifter.
The only thing that was clear about the tracks was the determination of its maker. There was no serpentining up the mountain. No grazing about. Just a direct line up, like it knew where it was going. And I thought: how brave, how steadfast, these explorers of the world.
Field Notes
- The total distance of this hike ran about 6 miles. It’s 2 miles to Barrett’s summit from the parking lot across the street from Windblown. It’s then 1.2 miles to the summit of New Ipswich, so really 3.2 miles one way, 6.4 miles round trip.
- I brought my spikes with me but never used them. I could have hiked this without snowshoes, probably, because the snow ran about six inches deep in most places, but I wanted to pack the trail down.
- After you get past the utility corridor near Windblown, it’s all pretty. Don’t let the first fifteen minutes discourage you.
Enjoy it out there!