Arethusa (Water) Falls

The Fat Man and I had intended to climb Arethusa Falls yesterday, but when we reached the parking lot the skies opened up and it poured.  The Weather Channel app said there was 0% chance of precipitation.  If you can't trust the Weather Channel, whom can you trust for your immediate weather needs?  

Limmer Boots

We ended up taking the cog railway up to the summit of Mount Washington.  If you are one of the 5% of people who suffer from acrophobia (fear of heights), use the cost of the ticket ($62) to get a half-hour massage at the Mount Washington Hotel or a combination manicure/pedicure in town.  Trust me on this one.

Limmer boot fitting

Before setting out, we stopped at Limmer and Sons, the custom shoemaker.  The Fat Man ordered a pair of their hand-made boots a little over 12 months ago, but there's a waiting list of 18 months before they even start making your boots.  Today he just had his foot outline traced.  They are expensive (about $800), but that's the cost of having a boot made just for your tootsies.

There is a lower and upper parking lot at the start of the Arethusa Falls trail.  You can save yourself a hump up the hill by parking in the upper lot.  There's an outhouse with a no-frills, open-holed crapper by the lower parking lot.  It was a far cry from the pristine toilets I had grown accustomed to at Mount Willard and The Lincoln Woods Trail.   

Top of Arethusa Falls

Like Black Cap and Mount Willard, the 1,000 foot elevation gain on the Arethusa Falls Trail was steady, but gradual.  There were some sections that were a big step up (if you are under 5'2"), but still doable.

Tree root ankle twisters

Arethusa Falls Trail

Unlike our disappointment with the underwhelming Franconia Falls, Arethusa Falls is a very impressive waterfall.  In fact, at more than 200 feet high, it is the tallest waterfall in New Hampshire.  

Click on the sound file below to hear the powerful falls for yourself.

 
Arethusa Falls by Heidi and The Fat Man
 

Arethusa Falls Trail

You can also click on the Fat Man's Mantra sound file (below) to hear his directive when you are starting to get weary on the trail.  He is quite the taskmaster.

On the trip back, we took the Bemis Brook Trail, which eventually brings you back to the Arethusa Falls Trail.  It was only an extra half mile, but it was a steep descent and the trail was largely covered with exposed root trees.  If you like that kind of thrill, go for it.  While the view of the Fawn Pool was impressive, I would avoid it next time.


Fat Man's Mantra by Heidi and The Fat Man


The gliede (the guidebook that lies) said it was a "pleasant walk," but I have learned that the authors of these guidebooks are seasoned hikers.  What's easy for them is moderate for the Fat Man and I.  Perhaps when we get stronger and lose more weight, we will be able to climb higher and longer.

Speaking of losing weight, today we decided to take pictures of our bellies as a baseline to track our progress.

My belly baseline

The Fat Man's belly baseline

We hope to share much flatter abdomens in the near future.  My goal is to lose 10-15 pounds.  The Fat Man hopes to drop 10 pounds.  As I am writing this he is eating warm apple crisp with Hagen Daz vanilla bean ice cream.  Truth be told, I ate two large pieces of chocolate from the Bavarian Chocolate Haus in North Conway and am feeling somewhat remorseful.

Heidi's rating: ★ ★ ★ ★ What a majestic waterfall!
The Fat Man's rating: 4 Snickers bars

Mount Willard Triumph and Toilet Despair

The Fat Man and I got up early, the sun was shining brightly, and we were feeling quite spunky.  We briefly discussed the possibility of climbing Frankenstein Cliffs (4.9 miles, 1,500 feet), but decided (due to my campaigning) that Mount Willard would be a more attainable endeavor at 3.2 miles and 900 feet elevation gain.

I shared that I was feeling unbridled enthusiasm as we started the drive.  “That will be crushed today,” the Fat Man mumbled under his breath.  A few minutes later, he let out a resigned-sounding sigh and I inquired why.  “I think I will be hating myself in an hour or two,” he said.  “Let’s think positively.  Put on your happy face,” I suggested.

It was a spectacular day and some of the leaves were starting to turn red, yellow, and orange.  At the base of the trail were a gift shop and a beautiful bathroom that looked brand spanking new.  Of course, I paid a visit before our climb.  I took my sunglasses off and held them tightly because it was a Clevis composting toilet (think of a big hole on a big mound of you know what).  You definitely don’t want to drop anything in there.

Women's bathroom at Mount Willard

While I agree with the gliede (the guidebook that lies) that Mount Willard provides a grand view, I would not say that it requires “little effort.”  You are walking uphill the entire time, but it is a gradual incline.  My thanks go to the Appalachian Mountain Club (AMC) for the occasional rock steps that make it easier to navigate for vertically challenged (short) people.

Trail to Mount Willard summit

The Fat Man and I have very different climbing methods.  I walk for ten paces and then rest for 3 seconds; a little trick I learned from a Vietnam vet that prevents my heart rate from going too high.  The Fat Man, however, goes up at a fast clip without any resting.  He says he likes the feeling of his heart bursting from his chest.   I should mention that the Fat Man is a two-time survivor of prostate cancer (get your PSA tested, gentlemen) and recently had heart surgery to correct atrial fibrillation.  He comes from good Slovak stock and hikes like a machine.   I, however, come from a long line of couch potatoes with heart disease and have a healthy fear of myocardial infarction.

Reaching the summit of Mount Willard felt a little like stepping into heaven (go toward the light).  We sat in the sun and enjoyed our petit dejeuner (French for a little lunch).  There were about 20 people at the summit, but there was room for everyone.  

Go to the light, Fat Man

One couple had a little picnic pack that included real silverware, plates, and even little champagne glasses. I must admit that I coveted that picnic pack for several minutes.  But carrying an overstuffed backpack is no fun on any mountain. This couple had obviously just met through match.com and they were sharing life stories, laughing, and gazing at each other with hopeful looks that communicated: “you might be the one.”  

Mount Willard summit

There was also a gregarious and manic English fellow who was making friends with everyone.  His group left the summit long before we did.  When we reached the bottom of the trail he was pacing around the restroom.  I asked him where his posse had gone to and he answered me rather curtly that they were probably at the AMC Highland Center Lodge, which was just up the road.  “He’s not so friendly now,” I muttered to the Fat Man. 

The Fat Man went into the men’s room and came out with a rather puzzled look.  He told me that he went to use the toilet and the Englishman told him that “maintenance was working on it.”   “What kind of maintenance do you need for a hole with wood chips?” asked the Fat Man.

Another Fat Man summit snooze

About five minutes later, an AMC staff person emerged, wearing rubber gloves and gingerly holding a Ziplock bag that contained a wristwatch.  We realized that the Englishman must have dropped it into the Clevis composting toilet.  No wonder he was not his chipper self.  We saw him again a little later at the AMC Highland Center Lodge, begging another staff member to soak the watch in a strong cleaning product.  They refused, despite his pleas to sign a liability statement releasing them from any damage to the watch.

The Fat Man and I spent several minutes discussing how his watch could have fallen into the toilet.  Did he take it off?  Did he lose weight on the trail and it slipped off?  What could he have possibly been doing?  Whatever the reason, we agreed that you should never wear anything that you really need back when you are using a Clevis toilet and hopped into Horace the Honda for the ride back to Pea Porridge Pond.

Heidi's rating: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ Gradual incline and a phenomenal view.
The Fat Man's rating: 2 thumbs up and 5 cherry pies.

Black Cap Bonanza

This morning the Fat Man presented two hiking options: Arethusa Falls (3 miles, 1,000 feet elevation gain) or Mount Willard (3.2 miles, 900 feet elevation gain).  Both were immediately rejected and I presented him with two new options: Black Cap (2.2 miles, 650 feet elevation gain) or Bald Mountain and Artist’s Bluff (1.5 miles, 550 feet elevation gain). 

Black Cap was accepted and we made some sandwiches (turkey and Swiss cheese again), loaded up Horace the Honda with our gear, and sped off.  

On the Black Cap Trail

Black Cap is a gem of a mountain that is frequented by many locals from the Conway, New Hampshire region.  It is one of the few hikes that the gliede (the guidebook that lies) gets right because you have one of the finest vistas in the White Mountains for relatively little effort. 

You cut out most of the elevation by driving up Hurricane Mountain Road, which is long, windy, and narrow.  It is an adventure in itself, especially on the ride down.  Save your brakes by putting your car in low gear.  Pray that no one comes up the hill because in certain spots there isn’t much room to spare and there is no shoulder.

Rock ledges on the climb

The ascent on the Black Cap Trail is gradual, so you only cough up half a lung on the way up.  We use hiking sticks (“four points of contact are better than two,” the Fat Man always says), which I recommend to hikers of all skill levels.  They are especially helpful on your descent.

It only took us 45 minutes to reach the summit from the starting point, which takes you through spruce trees in Conway State Forest.

 Close to the Black Cap Trail summit

You can pick up a trail map from a little kiosk about half a mile up, which is good to have on hand.  The wind was slightly breezy and cool on this crisp September day (it can get very windy up there).  We were able to see Mount Washington in the distance, Chocorua, and the Conway valley.  We had the mountain totally to ourselves for a good 30 minutes, just enough time for the Fat Man to take a snooze.

Summit of Black Cap Trail

The Fat Man snoozing

The big boulders on the final leg of the trail may be a little steep for severely vertigo-challenged climbers, especially on the way down. You can take a little side path — the spur of the Black Cap Connector Trail — instead.  We did the rock scramble both up and down and it was truly a delightful little jaunt.

Heidi’s rating: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ Gain with no pain.

The Fat Man’s rating: ★ ★ ★ and mild pulmonary edema.