Greenleaf Hut - Greenleaf Trail up Mt. Lafayette

10/2/09: David and I headed out of Lexington, MA. early Friday morning. We planned a breakfast stop in New Hampshire. David swore by the pancakes and had real Vermont maple syrup with his. We continued up into N.H. and parked at Franconia Notch. This was across the street from the trail head leading up to Greenleaf Hut, and about 5 miles from Mt. Washington. We hiked the 3.7 miles with 3500 feet of elevation gain through a dripping, snow filled treetops. I could have sworn it was sleeting, but Dave assured me this was just ice falling from the trees. I was getting pretty weary, slightly cold, and wet. David suggested he carry my fleece that I'd tied around my waist so that it would stay dry. Good suggestion, and though my pride kicked in, wisdom spoke and I let him carry the coat. It was an unusual sight. Fallen ice on the ground, dripping ice water from the trees, and the trees still coated with snow and ice. There were grand views back over to the Old Man in the Mountain. When I was young, the face of the old man was clear, but after years of erosion, and despite several repair efforts, the rock formation collapsed. It was still a powerful view looking at the rock face.
Although I was cold at the start, we hiked with a steady pace and things warmed up quite a bit. I was fairly comfortable. This was easily the most strenuous hike, and the most difficult terrain since my journey began.
When we arrived at Greenleaf Hut I realized I had been there before. When I was between 8 and 12, I spent 8 weeks every summer near Conway, NH. We took 1, 2, and 3 day hikes into the White Mountains where I learned about staying in the mountains and saw some of the most beautiful scenery in the U.S. Old memories came back to me. Inside the hut, there were logbooks dating back to the early 1960's. I started to go through the entries from 1965 and 1966, looking for some reference to the people I'd hiked with back then. There were several entries for summer camp groups and boy scout troops. Some with obviously a child's writing. But I didn't see anything referring to Camp Wonalancet. I am absolutely certain that if I'd spent more than a few minutes with those logs that I'd have found either my name, or the name of someone I knew back then. It was with a sense of belonging, and a remembering of times long gone, a time of innocence, that I reflected before we set out for a hike up Mt. Lafayette. Lafayette was snowy and icy. We emerged barely about treeline and again I had the certain sense that I'd been here before. The cut of the trail through the short trees, and the path itself, all felt as though I'd been there not all that long ago. This was a priceless feeling.