5/30/07
Mount Moriah 4049’

2.1 miles 1000’ Elevation gain from Imp Shelter, 5 miles out

Kevin, Judy and Emma

On Tuesday night we stayed in our tent as the Shelter had filled up at the Imp Campsite. The closeness of the tent kept us warmer than we had been in the open shelter, and the wind died down to nothing after sunset, so we were warmer and slept better in the quiet of the mountain. We awoke at dawn to birdsong and soon crawled out of the tent to watch the sun rise above the trees. There were still some clouds around, but the blue took up more of the sky than the clouds. The morning was still and after morning tea we packed up our gear and headed out, back north along the Carter-Moriah Trail towards Mount Moriah. In the col between Moriah and Imp Mountain is a convergence of trails. Here we stashed our heavy packs behind some rocks, took some drinks and headed up Mount Moriah. Almost immediately as you leave the col the trail emerges on a ledge overlooking the Wild River Valley. From here the trail climbs gradually, first out on the ledges where you can get a good look around, then winding back into the trees out of the bright sun. Soon the trees become stunted and the ledges take over and you can hike along enjoying the views, then you climb back down into a protected area where the trees are above your head again. The trail winds along like this until you come to the base of a rock outcrop where you wind your way around to the summit. On this day the wind was still, the sun was shining, the birds were singing their morning songs and the whole scene reminded us why we come to the mountains. We sat and soaked up the sun as warblers darted all around us, stopping to serenade, then moving on, as though they had dropped in to greet their new neighbors. To our southwest the full majesty of the Northern Presidentials lay out before us. Further south, the Carters where we had spent the day before marched across the horizon. To the east was Evans Notch, the Wild River Valley and the Caribou-Speckled Mountain Wilderness. To our north lay the Mahoosuc Range. We stayed and enjoyed it all as time seemed to stand still, the only measure being the growing warmth of the sun and the sudden hush between the warblers songs. Finally, our stomachs called us back to the trail and we wound our way back down to the col, taking in the views as we descended. Hoisting the packs to our backs again, we began to trudge back down toward the real world. Regretfully, we had to return, the dream had to end. The trail was littered with wildflowers as we made our way down, crossing Stony Brook again and again, until we reached a pool where we stopped to cool off.. As we finished the trip back down out of the woods it was sad to think that the flowers we had made friends with along the way would soon be gone, giving way to the changing seasons, and we would never see them again unless we return again next spring.