Mt. Chocorua - 10/3/20
3490 feet - 7.8 mi
My dad had been wanting to climb Mt. Chocorua for a long time. He'd climbed it in his younger days and really hyped up the rocky scrambles to the summit, as well as the views from the top. He was hesitant to do it since he's not as spry as he used to be and it would be our longest hike by almost 3 miles. We'd talked about doing it, and he decided that since he recovered well after Mt. Hale he'd be willing to try chocorua the very next weekend. My brother Bill also came with us, as well as my aunt Wendy, my dad's younger sister. I decided Lana would sit this one out, since it was longer than any she'd done before, and I didn't think she'd be able to handle some of the ledgy parts.
We got an early start as usual, and it was around 35°F when I got in my car. The mountain is less than 1.5 hours from my house, much closer than most of the 4000-footers. As I drove up the backroads approaching the trailhead, I was impressed by the view, driving directly towards the mountain so prominent in the distance. It was early enough that no one else was on the road, so I stopped breifly and snapped a picture from my car.
I got to the trailhead first, followed shortly by Wendy, and then Bill and Dad a couple minutes later. We got started right away, following the Liberty Trail. The first 2.5 miles are very easy to moderate, with the worst terrain being the occasional section of roots and rocks. I would describe most of this part as "leisurely". In some ways, not having the dog with me was nice, because it meant we could move a little faster and take fewer breaks. Humans can drink while they walk, but watering the dog requires stopping. There wasn't much remarkable about this part of the trail, although I did notice this interesting fallen tree. They look like woodpecker holes, but they also look burned.
After smooth sailing for almost 3 miles, the Hammond trail meets the Liberty Trail, coming in from the right. After this point, the hike starts to get more interesting. The terrain is steeper and rockier, and you may be able to catch a glimpse of the summit through the trees. Around this point there are also signs indicating that you're entering a protected forest area, and camping and fires are restricted to certain areas.
Half a mile above this point, you reach the Jim Liberty Cabin, and what I consider the beginning of the final approach. The Jim Liberty Cabin is an interesting building with an interesting history. It was built on the site of the former Peak House, an inn on the mountiain built in 1891. The Peak House was blown off the mountain by a storm in 1915, and the cabin was built there in 1932 and renovated in the 70's. It now serves campers who wish to sleep on uncomfortable-looking wooden bunks. The summit towers over the cabin site, and I was hyped to scramble up there.
From here, the climb become more demanding. It's nothing but rock scrambles to the summit. The views also become consistently spectacular. The trails are steep and rocky and would be very challenging, if not impossible, in wet conditions. There were lots of interesting features to snap pictures of, some of which I had to do a little bouldering to get to. The trail re-enters the woods for a bit, winding its way up the slope before popping out on a ledge with a great view to the south.
Just a little ways beyond the ledge, there is a big, steep slab that you need to climb up. It's almost entirely without handholds, so hopefully you have good shoes. There is something like a metal spike or peice of rebar that you can grab onto once you get far enough up the slab, and use that to clamber up to the ledge above, where this picture is taken from (looking towards the slab).
After the slab scramble, the trail ends up at the bottom of the exposed portion of the summit. Looking up, there's nothing but rock and some scrubby vegetation, and you can see all the way to the top.
The trail makes its way a bit to the left, where it joins up with the Brook Trail coming in from the other side of the mountain. From this point, its more or less a straight shot to the summit, just over a quarter of a mile away. The final 100 feet or so are particularly jagged and threatening.
Once you reach the summit, you have unobstructed views for miles and miles in every direction. To the north you can see several of the 4000-footers I intend to climb in the future. The views are among the best of all the mountains I've climbed so far. The summit looks very peaked and small from below, but there is actually quite a bit of space up top, and it was somewhat crowded. We spent around 20 minutes up there, taking pictures and a little breather/snack break.
We started carefully descending after our rest at the top. The initial hundred feet or so required some crabwalking and careful foot placement, but it got easier after that. The only other place that was a little sketchy was when we got back to the slab. It had become wet, with water dripping down from higher up the slab, above where the trail cuts over to the ledge. I'm not sure where it came from, but it made the slab quite slippery. My brother and I crouched down and did a controlled slide until we could catch ourselves on some little trees at the bottom. My dad and aunt chose stay to the side of the slab and use the trees there to maneuver down. Once past there, it was fairly smooth sailing back to the cabin. We took another short break there before heading down the rest of the way. It was a long 3 miles to the bottom, and my dad was starting to slow down a bit by the end, but we all made it down safely.
One thing I was suprised by about this hike was the number of dogs I saw. I think I made the right choice not bringing Lana, and while I think she could have done it, I'm glad I didn't make her. I think this a great hike, and would definitely reccommend it, but maybe leave the pup at home for this one. There are lots of sharp rocky bits, ledges, and I wouldn't have wanted to try to carry a 60 lb. dog over that if she had somehow gotten hurt.
Bonus dog pic because she wasn't in this post at all:
