Gadget’s Airstream Chronicles

In talking with an old friend recently I was reminded of a fantastic time hiking in the mountains. We had they type of days that you can’t plan for. Just fantastic, silly, and so memorable. As I thought back to that hike, I was struck by one of the things I’d been missing. I’ve been in search of the fabled Mountain Man from our hike.

More than a decade ago we set out on a quick weekend hike. The destination was Mount Madison, part of the Presidential Range in New Hampshire. At the time, I was still in grad school (playing the economist game). Getting out meant a lot, the mountains were a release. If I could have, I would have spent all my time there.

The initial hike in was super short. My hiking companion took time off from the walk to break out a fly rod and see what was in the river we were walking along. I went ahead, dropped the bulk of the equipment at Osgood Tent Platforms, and took a walk up to treeline on Mt. Madison. Madison was the first mountain I’d ever hiked up in the Presidentials, so it was my favorite. The hike up was also one of the biggest pains in the ass in the White Mountains. Straight up, straight down.

We met up that evening at Osgood again. I had my little jaunt up, my friend satisfied the fishing bug. The evening was relaxed, and we enjoyed quiet conversation until it was time to sleep.

The next day we awoke, and set our course toward the summit of Mount Madison. It’s one of the most annoying summits in the White Mountains if you’re coming from Osgood. Several false peaks follow the ridge-line. Every time you think you’re arriving at the summit, you come to the top of a false peak, and see the next false peak in the distance. Each time you descend what you think is the last false peak, walk further, climb the next, and find yourself cursing. It’s the next one for sure.

As we made our way along the ridge-line we came to a trail junction. This junction led to Dolly Copp Campground. And it was at this junction that we met Mountain Man. We stopped at the junction, unloaded packs, broke out the water, and took a break. Our packs had many items. Jackets in case the temperatures changed, water, snacks, all the stuff you take for a safe walk.

That’s when our new icon showed up from Dolly Copp. Mountain Man. He was an older gentleman, mid to late sixties easily. No shirt on, no shirt with him. He lacked water bottles, water packs….the man had no water with him. There was no backpack, no day bag, no snacks….nothing. A pair of shorts, and a worn pair of hiking boots, along with a frame at least 40 years our senior. By his side was a happy golden retriever. By all standards, this man was doing everything you shouldn’t do in the White Mountains.

We talked for a while with Mountain Man. He lived in the area. Hiked Chocorua every day. Decided to hike Mt. Madison today. Just a quick walk he said. No need of water or snacks. Just out for a stroll.

There’s really no such thing as a stroll in the White Mountains. Above tree line the weather can change fast. Hot can become cold. People have died of hypothermia during the peak of summer in the Whites. The entire ridge line is a crazy assortment of giant boulder piles. You hop from boulder to boulder. The trail is marked by rock piles called Cairns. If you put your foot on a boulder wrong, a broken ankle is easy to find.

Yet here was this “old guy” in front of us. We were 2 young 20 somethings, loaded for bear. And we meet up with the most casual guy in the world. Not winded, not tired, no need of a drink after his long hike up. After he departed, I think we both found ourselves a little embarrassed.

We didn’t reach the summit that day. 3 false peaks in a row, and then a change in the weather. You shouldn’t stay above treeline when storms come in, so we didn’t. As we made our way down though, all we could talk about was Mountain Man. And the jokes and stories grew as we found our way back to Osgood.

Who needs water in the mountains? My dog simply licks me, and through the process of osmosis, I am re-hydrated. Why you ask? I’m mountain man. Enough said. Food on a hike. HA! I laugh at the notion. I can go for days…..A jacket? For what? I’ve hiked this way when it was 30 below and a stiff wind out of the north!

By the time we reached camp, Mountain Man was already the thing of legends. We developed stories around him and his adventures. And we knew we paled in comparison. Packs, emergency gear, FOOD, WATER……What were we thinking? Not real hiking at all.

Into the evening more stories developed. In Mountain Man’s world there were many woodland creatures who were no ordinary creatures. Our favorite was of course Postal Bear. The jokes and stories went on into the night. And no, there was no booze or mind altering substances involved. Just our imaginations fueled by the chance meeting with a very rugged guy!

Now years later, with the simple mention of Mountain Man the other night by my friend, I remember it all. A fantastic walk. Great conversation. Terrific company. And stories that have stuck with us for more than a decade. I found myself laughing a lot before bed the other night just thinking about the tales we created.

Since that hike I’ve always loved being in the mountains. For a while, I even became rugged. Over the course of the last year though, rugged has faded away. But I think in time I might be able to find it again.

As I find myself feeling more like me, I wonder. Maybe, just maybe, someday I’d like to shock two twenty somethings on a mountain summit somewhere. I’m not there yet, and the hikes this year have been very short. But I’m thinking that keeping Mountain Man alive in someone else’s imagination is a worthy goal.

Thanks for reminding me Kes!

Well, it’s not a travel story from my current spot. But it is a travel story all the same.

This entry was posted on Saturday, May 5th, 2007 at 7:56 pm and is filed under Climbing AZ, On the road.You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.