Jurassic time-traveling in NH: A hike to Mount Shaw

Up in the White Mountains,  winter hangs on long past its official ending date, especially this year, when most of the snow fell in March and April. Even as I write this post in mid-May, iced-covered trails and unstable snow bridges are the rule and not the exception. But this is a great time of year to hike in New Hampshire Lakes Region, when the snow is gone and the black files have yet to hatch.

For that first spring hike, I highly recommend 2,990-foot Mount Shaw, tallest of the Ossipee Mountains and part of the Castle in the Clouds Conservation Area (in which Mount Roberts also offers a great hike). Last October, I hiked Mt. Shaw with my husband a few days after a massive wind storm wiped out power to much of northern New England and wreaked havoc on many hiking trails. Some quick internet consulting revealed that Mount Shaw’s trails were passable, so we packed a lunch and headed north.

The 7.7-loop trail on Mount Shaw is definitely a hike, not a walk, but because of its relatively low elevation and its Tuftonboro location south of the White Mountains, Shaw is a great three-season hike in regular boots, and, in the winter, a nice option for a snowshoeing adventure (see trail map bottom of post).

Mount Shaw’s main reward are panoramic views of Mount Washington and the Presidentials.  Other rewards include views of Lake Winnipesaukee and the Ossipee Ring Dike, along with the joy of stepping off a rocky trail on to a grassy carriage road built by shoe magnate Thomas Gustave Plant, when he developed his Lucknow Estate in the early 20th century.  Also, Mount Shaw is on the “52 With a View List”, a fine collection of New Hampshire mountains offering great vistas and fewer weekend crowds compared to the 4ooo-footers in the White Mountains.

Mt. Shaw and its neighbors  are the remnants of the largest volcanic ring dike in New Hampshire, the Ossipee Ring Dike.

This geological map shows the Ossipee Ring Dike, the result of Jurassic-era volcanic activity.

According to the website NH Geology, a ring dike forms when the ceiling of an underground magna chamber collapses beneath a circular crack in the bedrock.  The magma erupts in blobs that tend to be rounded in shape, so a bulbous  circular dike emerges. These sorts of eruptions were typical of volcanic activity  in New Hampshire 150 million years ago, when Pangea was breaking up, with Pawtuckaway State Park providing another example.

The trailhead for the Mount Shaw loop, including a small parking lot, is located on NH Route 171, and NOT at Castle in the Clouds.

After hiking .4 miles into the forest from the trailhead, picking up the Italian Trail is a little tricky as several old woods roads diverge. At .4 miles, look for this old log, marked with red blazes, that someone has carefully place on a makeshift cairn. The general direction is away from the brook, to the right, and uphill.

The Italian Trail heads up through the forest towards the flat and open perch of Mount Tate (about 1.2 miles from the fork).

Views of Dan Hole Pond and beyond, from the open flank of Mount Tate, also known as Big Ball Mountain.  The pond is approximately in the middle of the ring dike. How amazing that we can view the remnants of the Jurassic-ear breakup of Pangea right here in New Hampshire!

From Mount Tate, we could see the ridge above us that included Black Snout and the summit of Mount Shaw.  Surprisingly, we saw little evidence of the windstorm  that left us in the dark a few days earlier. We picked up a couple of stray branches, but overall, the trail was in great shape.

From Mount Tate, we followed the blue-blazed Big Ball Mountain trail up towards the ridge of Mount Shaw.  Along the trail, the roots of a big old red maple tree (I think) sprawled across the trail like the tentacles of a comic-book monster.

When the Big Ball Mountain Trail reached the ridge, we stepped on to  the soft grassy path of the old carriage road, now part of the High Ridge Trail.

Thomas Plante built these carriage roads for sightseeing pleasure of his guests. The roads lace the Castle in the Clouds Conservation Area, and make for hiking that’s easy on the feet.

At the ridge, we turned left towards the Black Snout Spur Trail, because you can’t come all this way and not visit a mountain feature called Black Snout, where we took in views of Lake Winnipesaukee.

The view from Black Snout.

The top of the ridge is fairly open, suggesting either a fire or extensive logging to create a park-like environment. Although filling in with small trees, the open ridge provides  opportunity for winterberry to flourish.

Bright red winterberry, a relative of holly, stands out in the late fall after its leaves have dropped.  Birds feed on the berries but they are toxic for humans.

After backtracking from Black Snout, we continued on the easy walking of the High Ridge Trail and after a half-mile reached the summit of Mount Shaw.  The summit offers a sort of bench (as well as a literal log bench) for enjoying the panoramic view, almost like sitting in form of a big wide movie screen.

Northern views towards Mount Washington from Mount Shaw.

After enjoying the views, we backtracked on the High Ridge Trail, intending to return via the 2.5 mile Shaw Trail, a straight shoot downhill to the trailhead. At the junction, we

The Turtleback Mountain Trail follows one of the old carriage roads and eventually takes hikers back to Castle in the Clouds. 

studied the map, t0 make sure we should head right towards the Turtleback Mountain Trail. We soon found the Shaw Trail, a hard left  off the carriage road.

The Shaw Trail drops quickly from the ridge, with rough rocky footing, eventually reaching a mountain brook which the trail then follows for most of its length. On the downhill, we felt the  7.7 miles of the loop trail—i.e. “will we EVER get to the end of this trail?” (Again, this is a hike and not a walk).

Down, down, down the Shaw Trail, until we reached the brook, and hiked another 1.5 miles to the trailhead.

The Shaw Trail offers a pretty walk through the forest, but I definitely recommend going down via Shaw rather than up. Back at the car, we pulled off our boots, guzzled our water, and flipped a coin to see who got to nap first on the ride home. The best part: home, in Kittery, Maine, was only an hour and 15 minutes away, and Route 16 offered plenty of coffee opportunities.  The second best part: it will be easy to return.

Map of 7.7 mile Mount Shaw loop (New England Hiking, 4000footers.com)

Driving directions:  Get yourself to New Hampshire Route 171 in Tuftonboro.  If coming from the east, you’ll find the small parking area just before the bridge over Fields Brook.  If you pass Sodom Road on the left, you’ve gone too far.

If coming from the west, you’ll pass Sodom Road on the right, and then cross  the bridge over Fields Brook, and turn left into the small parking area.

I highly recommend buying the waterproof trail map to the Castle in the Clouds Conservation Area.

My other posts on hikes in the New Hampshire Lakes Region

Mount Roberts: The Legacy of a Bankrupt Millionaire

One hike, many discoveries: A plane crash, a fire tower, and stone-age couches

Exploring caves and climbing ladders in the New Hampshire Lakes Region

Wandering in the wilderness of Mount Paugus

Mount Roberts: The rich legacy of a bankrupt millionaire

Mount Roberts is located at the Castle in the Clouds Conservation Area, once the mountain estate of benevolent capitalist Thomas G. Plant.

Mount Roberts, located in Moultonborough, New Hampshire at the 5,300-acre Castle in the Clouds Conservation Area, was once the country estate of benevolent capitalist Thomas G. Plant.

Mount Roberts, a small peak with big views, is “such stuff as dreams are made on”:  one man’s dream, for building castles in the air.

Although he can’t claim credit for creating  the mountain itself, shoe magnate Thomas Gustave Plant paved the way for conservation of this land in the early 1900s when he began buying up old farms and lots in New Hampshire’s Ossipee Range for his Lucknow Estate, where he built his Arts & Crafts-style Castle in the Clouds in 1913-14.

But by the time Plant died at age 82 in 1941, he was bankrupt and broke, thanks to bad investments in Russian bonds and Cuban sugar, followed by the 1929 stock market crash. During the Depression, he tried to sell his mountain estate but found no one willing to buy the estate as one parcel. Plant lived with his wife Olive at the Castle until he died, just before creditors  auctioned off everything he owned.

After Plant’s death, the property passed through the hands of several stewards, until its 2002 purchase by the Lakes Region Conservation Trust.

Thomas G. Plant

Born in Bath, Maine, to a working-class family of French Canadian immigrants, Plant played baseball, cut ice, and worked in a shoe factory before starting his own shoe company, reportedly with money garnished in a baseball wager.  An “enlightened capitalist,” Plant sought both to make money and to enrich the lives of his workers. He claimed his Thomas G. Plant Shoe Factory in Roxbury, Massachusetts as the largest in the world. There, workers enjoyed a park and other amenities.  In 1917, he built The Plant Home, an assisted living home still operating today in Bath.

On a recent Sunday afternoon, as we began our hike to Mount Roberts, we passed the old stables, which continue to house horses and carriages today (available for riding in season).  Plant probably rode in his carriage on the old road that winds up the side of the mountain.

Our first views of Winnepesaukee, with more to come.

Our first views of Winnipesaukee, with more to come.

The 2.5 mile trail to the Mount Roberts summit soon reaches ledges with great views of Lake Winnipesaukee. The terrain looks rough for carriage rides, but then again, bumpy rides on carriage paths once were common in these parts.

On my visit to Castle in the Clouds Conservation Area, the small parking lot was full, and families with young children were cavorting in the meadow around the small pond.

But as we hiked to Mount Roberts, we mostly had the trail to ourselves.  At the summit, with its view of Mount Washington, we were the only hikers present.

On the summit of Mt. Roberts, we had great of Mt. Washington with its snow-covered summit.

At the Mt. Roberts summit, we had great views of Mt. Washington with its snow-covered summit.

I’m sure that from July through Columbus Day, Castle in the Clouds is a bustling place on weekends, filling up with weddings, bus tours, and people out enjoying the day. But 5,300+ acres offers lots of room to roam. My guess is that most visitors stick pretty close to the Castle.

Thomas G. Plant died broke and bankrupt, but he left a rich legacy, (albeit indirectly): an outdoor inheritance will never be exhausted, thanks to the stewardship of the Lakes Region Conservation Trust.

Sources and resources

Find more information about Thomas Gustave Plant at a family genealogical page.

The Jamaica Plan Historical Society offers more information about the Thomas G. Plante Shoe Factory fire, Boston, Massachusetts 1976.

Find links to a trail map and additional information at Lakes Region Conservation Trust Castle in the Clouds Conservation Area (but please support LRCT by buying one or better yet, join the trust).  The Conservation Area includes several great hikes; I look forward to a return visit to hike Mount Shaw. Parking available at trailheads on Route 171 and at the end of Ossipee Park Road in Moultonborough, New Hampshire.

Castle in the Clouds, along with the on-site restaurant, is open for touring from mid-May (usually for Mother’s Day) through mid-October.

Wandering in the wilderness of Mount Paugus

In New Hampshire’s heavily visited White Mountains, solitude often seems like a lost dream on beautiful autumn weekends, when throngs of people climb popular peaks. But not far from the beaten path, in the Sandwich Range Wilderness, intriguing Mount Paugus awaits exploration far from the madding crowd.

A year ago, the ledges of 3198-foot Mount Paugus had beckoned to me from a rest stop on the west side of nearby Mount Chocorua. Now, I set off with two friends on the Cabin Trail to complete an 8-mile loop that would take us over the ledges of Mount Paugus, down to Whitin Brook and the Big Rock Cave, and then over Mount Mexico.

The mist lent an air of mystery to the hemlock forest on the Cabin Trail.

The mist lent an air of mystery to the hemlock forest on the Cabin Trail.

At the trailhead, on Route 113A in Wonalancet, our vehicle sat alone. Although the day had dawned wet, the forecast called for clearing—a good day that would draw swarms to the mountains. But on our hike to Mount Paugus, we met only one other party, two slightly lost hikers and their dog.

Mount Paugus is part of the Sandwich Range Wilderness, designated as such by the government in 1984. This “wilderness” has a long history of human use, for logging and for recreation. But on this walk, I definitely felt like I was wandering in wilderness, one replete with mysterious forests, vast cliffs and ledges, and dramatic glacial erratics.

As the last remnants of rain dripped off the beech trees, the Cabin Trail climbed upward on an old logging road. At one point the forest abruptly shifted from beech to hemlock, almost as if someone had planted a dividing line between the deciduous and the evergreen. About two miles in, the trail climbs alongside a rough sidehill with a steep forested slope.  After this patch, (and 2.7 miles in) the trail descends a bit to reach the junction of the Lawrence Trail, which climbs upward and then crosses over the ledges of Mount Paugus.

The summit of Mount Paugus is buried in trees and we didn’t attempt a bushwhack. Instead, we hiked on the Lawrence Trail until it crosses an open but tree-shrouded patch of ledge. There, with a small detour, we found west-facing views.

When we reached the flat ledges near the summit of Mount Paugus, we scrabbled a bit off to the southwest to eat a windy lunch on this dramatic west-facing ledge.

When we reached the flat ledges near the summit of Mount Paugus, we scrabbled a bit off to the southwest to eat a windy lunch on this dramatic west-facing ledge with cloudy views of Mount Tripyramid.

Although the other hikers we’d encountered had trouble navigating the network of trails around Mount Paugus, we had a map and it wasn’t hard to follow the Lawrence Trail as it descended past the Beeline Trail (which take hikers over to Mount Chocorua) to the Old Paugus Trail.  The descent is rough in spots and the wet rocks added more  challenge, but nothing that couldn’t be solved with a combination of careful steps and butt shimmies.  The Old Paugus Trail offers views of Mount Chocorua through the trees (see photo above the headline).

Deep in this wilderness, with its many turns and unsigned junctions, we frequently consulted the map. People tend to forget that maps are useful not only for showing the trail, but for identifying features in the land that help orient the user, like brooks, or the topo lines that announced the approach of steep ledges on the Old Paugus Trail. I’ve yet to become a confident compass user, but have found that carefully studying a map is almost as good.

An amazing ledge on the Old Paugus Trail -- and quite obvious on the map, from the contour lines.

An immense ledge on the Old Paugus Trail. The topo lines of the map really don’t do it justice.

We dipped low to Whitin Brook, an inviting swimming hole in August, and then picked up the Big Rock Cave trail towards 2020-foot Mount Mexico.  After six or miles of meandering, I groaned a little at the thought of climbing another mountain, but the dramatic glacial erratics at Big Rock Cave soon provided a spirit-boosting reward.

This set of huge glacial erratics, including a pair that creates roomy cave, and several other intriguing nooks, crannies and crevices. I'm not sure I'd want to sleep there, given that bears probably live in this wild area, but it looks like people use it for campouts on a fairly regular basis.

This set of huge glacial erratics  creates a roomy cave, and several other intriguing nooks, crannies and crevices. I’m not sure I’d want to sleep here, given that bears must prowl in this wild area, but it looks like people use the cave for campouts on a regular basis. A hike into the cave, on the Big Rock Cave Trail, would be an exciting day’s work for the youngest hikers.

Just below Mount Mexico, the forest grows on top of a glacial erratic pushed here by the ice 11,000 years ago.

Just below Mount Mexico, the forest grows on top of a glacial erratic pushed here by the ice 11,000 years ago.

After the caves, we ascended to the flat top of Mount Mexico, home to a beautiful open hemlock forest. Then we were on the home stretch, about two miles downhill to the trailhead.

The hike took more time than we had planned, but we enjoyed the meandering, the conversation, and the solitude. If wilderness is a place in which we can lose ourselves in wonder, then the Sandwich Range qualifies, even given its extensive and sometimes destructive human history. Lucky us!

Sources and resources

To recap, our loop hike to Mount Paugus consisted of the Cabin Trail to the Lawrence Trail to the Old Paugus Trail to the Big Rock Cave Trail.  The Sandwich Range Wilderness and adjacent public and private lands feature a network of interconnecting trails with endless opportunities for exploration, including 4,019-foot Mount Whiteface (the latter well-travelled by 4,000-foot peak baggers). A bonus: this southern range of the White Mountains is only an hour and 20 minutes from the Seacoast region of New Hampshire and Maine.

To read more about hiking on nearby Mount Chocorua, see my post, Intersecting Slopes on Mount Chocorua.

One hike, many discoveries: A plane crash, a fire tower and stone-age couches

The last stretch over and up to Piper Mountain featured beautiful open terrain.

The Belknap Range in New Hampshire’s Lake Region offers interesting and varied hiking terrain, like this stretch of trail over and up to Piper Mountain.

Would we find the plane crash? That was the motivating question as I hit the road early one morning in late June with three middle-school boys.

More than 40 years ago, on June 18, 1972, a small plane bound for Boston vanished in New Hampshire’s Lakes Region after taking off from Laconia Airport.  A search was launched, but the plane had evaporated.  A year later — or maybe two years later — in June 0f 1973 or 1974, the wreckage was found, just a few hundred yards below the summit of well-travelled Mount Belknap.

At least that’s the story, according to a few internet sites. More complete information — such as the pilot’s name and age, the type of plane, the source of the internet information — remains elusive.  A search of Boston Globe archives turns up several other small plane crashes in New England in the early 1970s, but not a word about the plane that slammed into Mount Belknap.

Setting out, all we knew for sure was that we might find the wreckage on the side of Mount Belknap.  Or we might not. In seeking out the crash site, I didn’t wish to make sport of a tragedy.  The wreckage, like the mountain range that holds it, is a mystery that pulls us onto the trail  — especially three teens who might otherwise be satisfied by the glow of a screen.

Also, the prospect of climbing the Mount Belknap fire tower and then lounging in stone chairs on Piper Mountain add up to a day of hiking that even the most hardened video gamer finds hard to resist.

So, armed with plenty of bug spray against black flies, we set off for the Belknap Range in Gilford, New Hampshire to climb Belknap and Piper Mountains,  with plans to also hit the  Gunstock Mountain summit, just to say we did it.

We started our hike at the parking lot at the end of the Belknap Mountain Carriage Road (see directions and details at bottom of post).  Various approaches exist to all three mountains; the Carriage Road parking lot offers access to a variety of easy loop hikes on the west side of the range.

We began with a short hike up the Blue Trail (which leads to the summit of Belknap Mountain) to the Belknap-Gunstock col, where we turned left on the Saddle Trail to get a summer view from Gunstock’s 2250-foot summit, where we have often enjoyed ski-lift vistas of Lake Winnipesaukee in the winter.

The whizz of the Gunstock’s zip line sliced through the air.  Not an offensive sound, just noteworthy.  Passing the zipline platform, we backtracked to the Blue Trail and hiked through the forest towards the summit of Belknap Mountain.

The plane wreckage is not visible from the trail, but I’d read that the turn-off to the site was marked with a small bit of surveying tape, just below the Belknap summit.  As we hiked along, we kept an eye out for that bit of tape.  Just as we were about to give up, I spied the orange tape, hanging on a branch, about 2/10ths of a mile below the summit, and could see the faint outline of a “herd path” on the left (down the steep slope).

Hiking down to the crash site required careful footing over a rough rock fall.  Although it seems impossible that a plane could vanish in this well-travelled region, once in the sun-dappled forest, I could see how easily that might happen, especially after the leaves have burst forth on the trees.

About a one-tenth of a steep pitch off the trail, we found the wreckage. The boys were excited to find the plane crash, and I reminded them to be respectful — that this was not a playground, but a place where someone had died.  I won’t deny that there’s a certain voyeuristic element to looking for a plane crash. But searching for such sites is also a way of honoring the memory of those who died.  The hunt for the wreckage, I think, cultivates the same spirit that led the pilot to take up flying. Bad things happen, but that doesn’t mean we should give up on adventure, or on exploring and pushing boundaries.

Who doesn't love a fire tower, especially when it offers a breezy refuge from June blackflies? We ate our lunch here on top of Belknap Mountain.

Who doesn’t love a fire tower, especially when it offers a breezy refuge from June blackflies? We ate our lunch here on top of Belknap Mountain.

After we had looked over the crash site, we clambered back up to the main trail, and quickly reached the summit of 2382-foot Belknap Mountain, where a well-maintained fire tower offers 360 degree views of the Lakes Region.

After the tower,  we set off for the grand finale — the last leg on the ridge, on the White Trail to the junction of the Old Piper Trail (Orange Trail), for the ascent to Piper Mountain (2,044 feet), and its odd collection of stone sculptures and thrones.

Piper Mountain lived up to its billing as one of the most intriguing mountain destinations in New Hampshire — an open, barren summit, with plenty of room to run around and jump from rock to rock — or to stretch out on a throne of granite.

Relaxing in one of the many stone thrones atop Piper Mountain.

Relaxing in one of the many stone thrones atop Piper Mountain.

We finished our loop by taking the Piper Mountain Trail (Red) down the mountain, exiting onto Carriage Road just below the parking lot.  All told, we had hiked about five miles and were ready for ice cream.

Another hiker was waiting at the parking lot family members to arrive so they could get in a quick hike before the Carriage Road gate closed at 6 p.m.  We struck up a conversation, and he told me that he had found the crash and the remains of the pilot (a skeleton) back in 1974.

“I was hiking and I just happened to look down, saw something yellow, and there it was,” he said.

The wreckage, he said, remained undiscovered for two years, not one (as is often reported), and that one person — the pilot — was in the plane, not two (again, often reported).

I didn’t grill him for further details, but was struck by how internet has created its own facts about the crash (not for the first time, to be sure).  I did ask him for ice cream recommendations. We set off for Sawyer’s Dairy Bar in Gilford, and our friend proved to be a highly trustworthy source on ice cream.

Although the plane crash cut one man’s life way too short, I’m glad we found it, because the search led me to the mysteries of the Belknap Range.  Now, the map invites me to hike to Round Pond, the ledges of Whiteface Mountain, and many other off-the-beaten path destinations just over an hour from home. I’ll be back to do more exploring.

My son warned me that this photo is not the most flattering, but I loved my throne on Piper Mountain, so I'm posting it anyway.

My son warned me that this photo is not the most flattering, but I loved my throne on Piper Mountain, so I’m posting it anyway.

Additional resources and information

Directions to Belknap Carriage Road parking lot (access point for various trails):
At Gilford Village, leave Route 11A and follow Belknap Mountain Road south, bearing left at .8 miles and right at 1.4 miles. At 2.4 miles, the Belknap Carriage Road forks left.  Follow it 1.5 miles to the parking lot.  The road is gated, near the lot, and the gate closes at 6 p.m.  Signs point to various trails next to or near the parking lot, and you may have to look around, but it’s not hard to find whatever particular trail you are looking for.

Belknap Range Trails provides detailed descriptions of hikes in the region, and includes a link to a printable map (definitely recommended). AMC’s Southern New Hampshire Trail Guide also provides detailed information on the various trail options, although it is hard to follow the descriptions without a map.

We found the geocache box at the plane crash site with no specific instructions, just by looking around.  I am more a low-tech letterbox-type myself, and have since learned that several letterboxes (see list here) are tucked beneath stumps and rocks on Belknap, Piper and other mountains in the area.

Mount Major is the most popular family hike in the Lakes Region, but further to the north and east, I also recommend the Morgan-Percival loop for its fun caves and ladders.

Further afield, the 5-mile-ish Welch-Dickey Loop, near Waterville Valley, is another great family hike.

Exploring Caves and Climbing Ladders in the New Hampshire Lakes Region

 

The boys take a break from the chill in the relative warmth of the cave’s interior.

Our only regret is that we have arrived at the cave too late.  This roomy cavern, formed by boulders and slabs of rock that fell from the mountain long ago, offers both space to spread out and shelter from the wind on this chilly afternoon in early November.  The cave would have made the perfect lunch spot, but we’ve already eaten.

The day is not exceptionally cold – just early November chilly.  Here on this ridge above Squam Lake, my son has refused to abandon his shorts, although he willingly dons his hat as the wind blows. His friend Tucker borrows my gloves.  From the 2220-foot summit of Mount Morgan, we watch snow falling on Franconia Ridge, to the north. But on the southern side of this ridge, a dull November sun lights up Squam Lake. The ridge, which forms the backbone of the Squam Range, creates a barrier between the harsher weather of the White Mountains and the milder conditions in the New Hampshire Lakes region – a perfect destination for a late fall hike.

Intrigued by reports of ladders on Mount Morgan and the cave on Mount Percival, I’ve been waiting a long time to hike this 4.7-mile loop.  These extras offer a great hook for enticing my son to the mountains. Rocks! Ladders! Caves!  Hiking doesn’t get any better for 11-year-olds, even for today’s computer-addicted boys.

We decide to hike the loop in a counter-clockwise direction, heading up the Percival trail for a short distance and then cutting over to the trail to Mount Morgan (the cut-off trail has a different name which escapes me, but it is the only cut-off and well-marked).  The trail up Mount Morgan climbs gradually – not steep at all — until eventually it reaches what seems like a sheer rock wall.  Correction: it is a sheer rock wall, hence, the ladders. (However, a few steps in the other direction takes hikers who don’t do ladders up an alternate route that offers more psychologically stable footing).

Climbing ladders on Mount Morgan

We behold the ladders – three of them, one stacked atop another, straight up the rock.  The final ladder requires some Spiderman-type footwork, in which a hiker has to reach a leg over the rock and then pull up with the hands to get onto the ladder (probably not suited to very young children, but the perfect challenge for two 11-year-old boys).

We climb the ladders. No one slips and dies.  After five more minutes of climbing on the rocks, we reach the summit of Mount Morgan, where we can feel the chill blowing down from the snowy north.  Hats and gloves come out and, after briefly admiring the view, we continue on the Crawford-Ridgepole Trail, aiming to descend by the Percival Trail.  The boys are starving by now, so we stop in the woods to eat our lunch out of the wind, and then continue on, arriving at the summit of Percival (2212 feet) within a few minutes.

Not too cold to pose for a summit shot on Mount Morgan.

After some photos and another quick view of the wintery scene to the north, we follow the arrows pointing straight down the rock face.  Up close, I see that we are not scrambling straight down a rock face, as the arrows suggest.  We pick our way down amidst boulders and rocks, all very safe and protected.

Finally, we arrive at the tight entrance to the cave.  One by one, the boys push their feet into the opening and drop themselves inside.  When my turn arrives, I pull off my daypack – I can’t fit through the opening while wearing it – and slither feet first into the cave.

Jeremy peers through the opening after squeezing his way into the cave.

I love this cave! Slabs of granite have crashed at crazy angles.  Light filters through the cracks. The ‘floor’ is layered with boulders and granite slabs.  Rain and snow probably do trickle inside, and sleeping on the uneven, angled floor wouldn’t be that comfortable, but still – what a perfect shelter.

“We should have had our lunch here,” Tucker says as Jeremy investigates campsite possibilities.

Next time, maybe we will start the loop in the opposite direction, so as to time our arrival at the cave with lunch.  On the other hand, if we take the trail directly to the cave, we will miss the ladders on Mount Morgan, because the ladders are designed for going up rather than going down (at least for most hikers).  My husband points out that we can always detour down from the ridge to the ladders and climb up again. It’s only a short downhill/uphill detour.  But then again, we could bring more snacks, climb the ladders first, and hold off on lunch.

Mount Percival also offers many interesting cracks and rock formations to play in.

These decisions can wait until another day, because we will be return. This hike is a winner, a gem, like many other “smaller” hikes I have discovered in northern New England these past ten years.  In my younger days, hiking meant climbing the biggest mountains.  The day usually started with a 6 a.m. departure to the mountains and a nine-, ten- or 12- mile slog up and down steep trails, followed by pizza and total exhaustion.

I didn’t want to give up hiking when I became a parent.  But I knew that I couldn’t take my son up big mountains and still enjoy the experience.  (Some children might enjoy the challenging of trudging up and down steep mountains for many miles, but mine is not one of them). Discovering these shorter hikes, many full of intriguing features like the rock cave, has been a fringe benefit of parenthood.  I’ve also learned that a great hike doesn’t have to be a 6 a.m. to 6 p.m. ordeal.

Squam Lake View

I might have forgotten to mention that the hike offers great views of Squam Lake.

We finish this hike by three p.m., leaving plenty of time to browse in the emporium that is The Old Country Store and Museum in Moultonborough, where locals and visitors have browsed the uneven wooden floors since the 1780s.  I love that we are ogling the penny candy in what may be the oldest store in the United States.  Alas, the store does not sell hot drinks for our cold hands.

I still like hiking big mountains.  As I’ve written before, I’m pecking away at my 4000-footer list.  Now that my son is getting older and has greater mental stamina and physical endurance, we’ll be trying some more challenging hikes. But the old equation of “big mountain” = “hike” has been permanently revised.  Now, I’ll hike any mountain — or even a hill with a view — and call it wonderful.

Details and resources

The Morgan-Percival Loop trailhead is located on Route 113 between Holderness and Center Sandwich, NH.

Hiking Trails in the Lakes Region offers information on a variety of hikes in the Lakes region, where almost all of the hiking is family-friendly for both young kids and teenagers and everything in between. The New Hampshire Lakes Region Tourism Association website also offers information on hikes in the area.