Brian, Greg and I hit the forest road off of Sandwich Notch Rd. around 7:30 to do the Weetamoos. We followed the main road to its end in a little clearing.
From there we followed a herd path heading towards the Chickenboro Brook. The path continued along the brook, so we just crossed (a little tricky, two of us shimmied).
Greg wanted to hit the ridge early instead of a direct path, so we added in some mileage, but I'm always game for a ridge walk. We came across some amusing things on the way:
And a rock wall in the middle of nowehere.
We hit the north ridge of the 2180' bump, entirely in open hardwoods, and just followed the main ridge there. The woods were good with evergreens beginning their domination, and any thick stuff usually disappeared in 20-50'. Snow started appearing in significance around 2100' or so. The whole day was largely snow free, with occasional pockets in the sheltered areas, sinking a couple feet.
The trip up to Weetamoo was a piece of cake. There were limited views, but nice, including the Franconia Range.
Off to E. Weetamoo, the ridge opened up into amazing glades, one of the more unique I've seen. Instead of a fern forest, it was largely grasses on top of barely buried boulders. We followed the ridge to the northern bump and turned SE. Woods got thick for a while here, but we still made good time thanks to finding moose paths through the young spruce. I think we hit about 5 bumps trying to determine which was higher. As is in many cases, every bump looks higher from another bump. We figured this looked good enough.
Back to the other bump, and then slabbing north a bit before a more direct path back to the road, trying to avoid the large swamp. And so, we hit it, but it was the furthest end of it and some edging in scrappy woods north led us around.
On the other side, we eventually hit a well defined path, hit the road, and made a quick exit, coming out at about 2:00.
Back at the gate, we noted an extra car. Hmmm, we're trying to figure out who it might be, if it is even someone whacking. Seriously, what's the odds someone else is doing these peaks on the same day? As I'm changing, I finally see a small note under the wiper. The handwriting is instantly recognizable. We had missed Nate. Dang! But the note was addressed specifically to me. Huh? How? Wha? The town transfer station sticker might have been a clue, but not definitive. Then in my rear view I noticed a printed email with my wife's name on it. I had somehow (fortuitously) missed it while cleaning the car yesterday. Too bad we missed him, but I suppose there will be another time.