Snowshoeing knee-deep powder, open hardwood forest, easily traversable spruce and fir ridgetop, 25° with partly sunny skies, a trailless peak with a summit canister; all ingredients for a beautiful day roaming the Hubbard Brook Experimental Forest.

The morning snowshoeing began at 7:13am; with the Subaru tucked into a small, plowed alcove off FR 211, I began down the forest road to meet up with the Hubbard Brook Trail. Snow nearly knee-deep to begin quickly got the blood flowing as the bridge over the East Branch Baker River was crossed, luckily this soon led onto snowmobile paths, time to cruise!

*FR 211 crossing East Branch Baker River*

The snowmobile path cut in from Three Ponds Trail and continued past my turn off, at least I had a fast pace for 0.4-miles. Not a sign of any traffic had trekked these trails since the heavy snowfall several days earlier, not even a mouse left any tracks.

Despite the wind rustling in the trees, it was base layer weather to break my path for the next 1.3-miles; the 370’ of elevation gain felt like so much more with each step compacting well more than a foot of snow at each step.

While keeping an eye for any looming moose near the beaver ponds, I stepped over and around treefall and spruce traps, misjudging one and going waist-deep without even hitting solid ground below, I grabbed a nearby log to arrest the slip and pulled myself back to the trail.

*Rising shoulder of Mt Kineo past the bog*

The open hardwood forest let the surrounding hillsides shine through the light tree cover, the low tapered ridges of Cushman and Kineo forming the notch through which I traipsed; once past the relatively recent reroutes early on, the old woods road was as straight as an arrow.

Nearing the height-of-land I cut northeasterly, traversing through some of the finest, straightest, most easily navigable hardwood (birch) forest I have ever had the pleasure to find myself in. Only once did I find myself in a lightly entangled conifer blend, where I found my other spruce traps; if I hung to the south while ascending the ridge I could remain in my lovely hardwood forest, which had transitioned to primarily beech by this time.

Sticking to the southeastern side of the ridge as much as I could, the open forest let me see quite far ahead and around the arcing mountainside of where I needed to climb; atop the ridge remained a canopy of dark evergreen, for fear of spruce traps and slow slogging I stuck to my open hardwoods.

Trying to follow the contour line I deferred entering the spruce as long as I could but eventually just began that slow climb, with breath like a steam-locomotive I plunged each snowshoe knee-deep into powder to gain any semblance of traction to muscle myself up onto the ridgetop.

*Ascending the southern ridge with Mt Kineo in the distance*

The spruce was spindly and pencil-straight, narrow branches reached out to snag clothing but overall that ridgeline was surprisingly enjoyable; bobbing, weaving, meandering and nearly swimming around 3” diameter conifers.

This only lasted momentarily before giving way to a more open spruce and fir forest, I continued watching my surroundings for any movement in the distance that could be a moose; with a bear bell clanging loudly, I did not want anyone to be surprised at each others presence.

Although it was far from winter, I had a flashback to ascending the Scar Ridge (East of Loon Mt in Lincoln, NH); the forest was spruce and fir as far as the eye could see - luckily, unlike the Scar Ridge, Mount Cushman had minimal blow-down to impede travel.

Topping out on the ridge, I remembered from researching early on that the true summit of the mountain is (of course) on the other side of the ridge top. With a ~250’ traverse across the top of the mountain remaining, this is where the thick got real thick!

I found no fewer than 3 sunny skylights in which I would have placed my money, betting that each spot could have been the high point. But what was that blue surveyor tape on the tree? It was 25’ off through a narrow spruce corridor and did not look to be any higher than my current location.

Figuring I can’t retreat home until exhausting all of my search techniques, I snaked my way over and looked straight ahead - framed beautifully in a bouquet of spruce boughs was the white Mt Cushman summit canister - and its end cap screwed off, lucky day indeed!

I saw the last entry was dated February 23rd or so, only several weeks ago, the author said it was a “nice bushwhack from the north”, must have been before we got all this additional snow to contend with!

At 9:36am I registered my ascent in the summit log, put the cap back on (snug while not too tight), took a step toward what could have been a view and immediately sunk to my waist. Turns out from looking at older photos of the summit canister I was standing on a 5-6’ snow base, likely made entirely of spruce traps.

I had seen enough for today; with a few good swigs of warm tea and photos to prove that I had stood in a mighty fine place today, I turned to follow my footprints out.

*Through the spruce boughs I spy a summit canister*

The return trek was a fun game of floating and glissading on snowshoe tails, often sailing in upwards of 10’ with each step, coasting gleefully through the deep powder down the southern ridge of Mount Cushman - this is what climbing this powdery stuff is all about!

Passing several rocky places, there are many little alcoves I’d like to come back and roam around in warmer weather. I’d like to see how the open hardwood forest contrasts with what I traipsed through today; my mind imagines a carpet of moss nearing the summit with all the spruce and fir, in which case I’m happy to have come through in winter as to not disturb the ground covering.

I’ve only just scratched the surface of the Hubbard Experimental Forest and I believe I have much more roaming to do, there is an old town to find out in these woods, after all!

Overall stats for the day:
5.77-miles
3hr 48 minutes
2,060’ elevation gain

Mount Cushman - 3,221’

Mount Cushman

Scar Ridge

Stinson Mountain - Northeast Peak