Peak Experiences: Danger, Death, and Daring in the Mountains of the Northeast

Most Difficult of the Winter 111

Betty Maury Heald Most Difficult of the Winter 111 Seven of us did all three Bond Mountains, 21 miles in 18 hours, in January 1984. We started our trek at 6:00 a.m., snowshoeing along the Wilderness Trail and then following the Franconia Trail north until we reached the Hellgate Brook crossing. Our leader had selected this approach to West Bond Mountain, not an easy route. Trail-breaking through deep, crusty snow was strenuous, with the lead hikers breaking through frequently. I had shared this duty much of the day with just two other companions, because we were the lightest in weight and broke through the crust less often. After 6 hours of hiking, we began the steep ascent to West Bond through dense scrub, underbrush, and trees. We reached the summit at 3:30 p.m. with the sun already getting low in the sky, and realized that we were less than halfway through our ordeal! There was no time to relax and enjoy the magnificent views of Lafayette and Bondcliff—and no turning back. We scurried ahead, as fast as one can on snowshoes, through deep snow and dense pines, in search of the trail to Bond. Alas, no brave soul had been over the trail recently. What we’d hoped would be a “piece of cake” was another mile-plus of strenuous snowshoeing. It was 5:00 p.m. when we reached Bond’s summit—with breathtaking views of Bondcliff and West Bond before the setting sun. Oh, how the snow sparkled in purple, pink, and blue crystals! We were tired but had no time to rest and enjoy this fully. With many hours and miles of snowshoeing ahead of us, delay was unwise. The sun set as we crossed Bondcliff. We were very relieved to find the trail below this peak broken out, which would make it easier to follow in the darkness . That was when we discovered that neither our leader nor his wife had headlamps! Fortunately, the rest of us did. About 9:00 p.m., 15 hours after we started, I stumbled and fell headfirst into a snowdrift. I did not have the energy to push myself up and out. I was ready to lie there and go to sleep, so very tired and just worn out. My husband Phil pulled me out with the help of others and said I must keep 282 pe a k e x pe r i e n ces going! The miles of snowshoeing down the Bondcliff and Wilderness Trails with headlamps seemed endless. I managed by concentrating on counting my steps up to 100, then starting over again. We struggled out to our cars by ones and twos between 11:15 and midnight! I consider this my most difficult hike of the Winter 111. It was 10 degrees. Would our diesel engine start? More than once the car had failed to start in the bitterly cold temperatures of Northeast trailheads. Thankfully, it started this time. We hadn’t been able to make overnight reservations because all the motels were filled with skiers or snowmobilers . We had left home at 3:00 a.m. with Phil driving; I always drove home. Trying to keep myself awake for the journey home, I began thinking about our other adventures. Once, an impending rain and sleet storm at Baxter State Park had required a change in plans involving a couple of 15-mile moves by snowmobile. I stood on the rear runners during one trip and Phil stopped about halfway to ask how I was doing. I stepped off the runners and said “Fine.” He took off noisily, leaving me standing there. I was stunned, but the next half hour was unforgettable! I was in a silent, winter wonderland surrounded by massive, snow-covered evergreens, when a herd of moose appeared. I counted more than twenty—bulls, cows, and calves. They moved across the road in absolute silence. They were huge. I On the rocks, Bondcliff summit. Photo by David White 283 l o s t , u n p r ep a r e d , a n d b us h w h a c k e d stood in amazement, with no camera. Too soon, I heard the snowmobile returning. Later Phil collected our friends and their gear and, taking a curve too quickly, spilled both of them off! Our extreme day in the Bonds made...