With wind chill warnings posted for the next several days I decided to explore the low-land; low elevation with the option to climb in case the weather miraculously turns to blue skies (not likely). I can end this story right now and say that the weather not only failed to improve but it grew worse by the hour - needless to say, I simply roamed a new (to me) trail with snowshoes clacking on mountaineering boots.

Not realizing my GPS was bringing me down the “gas saving” approach the northern terminus of the Tunnel Brook Trail, I surprisingly turned down Noxon Road or otherwise known: Tunnel Stream Road; All morning I had been planning to turn down Tunnel Brook Road, just a few miles further east.

Was that the start of a funky morning outing? Perhaps.

Reluctantly, I obeyed Google Maps while admiring the view of a frosty northwestern shoulder of Mt Moosilauke through the trees, the sun was just beginning to rise and was now highlighting the upper-most fluffy cloud layer with brilliantly radiating oranges, I remained hopeful for good weather.

With 0.7-miles to go before reaching the Tunnel Brook Trail head I drove up to a gate, the road was no longer plowed past this spot. Being the only car in the snow plow turnaround I pulled off to the side and readied my pack and snowshoes - I brought a little bit of everything with me today, not knowing what kind of excitement I’d get myself into.

With snowshoes on I followed snowmobile tracks and other boot prints down Tunnel Stream Road to the hairpin turn where the warm weather trail head parking lot is located.

Naturally, I would have preferred to use the southern entrance to the old Tunnel Brook Road as that is just around the corner from home but knew the gate just off High Street in Glencliff was likely still closed for logging.

I’ve had my eye on the Tunnel Brook slides as well as a visit Slide Pond and figured today was good for some low-elevation roaming.

At the hairpin turn the entrance to the old road enters the woods along the east side of Tunnel Brook and continues south along several washouts, reminders of Hurricane Irene from 2011.

This once state road was build in the 1790’s to link Warren and Coventry (early Benton, named for Coventry, CT), it was rebuilt in the early 1900’s. Following footsteps through several inches of snow, it is clear to see nature is trying to take it back over once again.

*Log-strewn Tunnel Brook alongside Tunnel Brook Trail*

While letting my mind drift as I walked along the edge of Tunnel Brook and occasionally stepping over tributaries and crossing a log bridge or two, I recalled reading in the AMC Mountain Guidebooks of this stretch of trail being repaired yet again in the early 1970’s; resurfaced with gravel 1.5-miles down to a hiker parking lot located at the Benton Trailhead.

The Benton Trail, an old bridal path up to the summit of Moosilauke, ascends along the southwestern edge of Little Tunnel Ravine until joining with the Beaver Brook Trail around 4,570’ and heading onward toward the summit.

Some of this work may have been recognizable, hard to say what lay under the snow but the surrounding forest was beautiful - the northern tip of Mt Clough rising on my right and a northern ridge of Mount Blue on my right.

*Logging landing along Tunnel Brook Trail*

Before long the trail (FR 147) opened right up to logging road, which I carefully followed right past an active logging yard on the northeast shoulder of Mt Clough. Being sure to stay well out of the path of machinery, I don’t think anyone saw me but was sure to give a wave anyway, just in case.

Around the 2.5-mile mark from the main trailhead, Tunnel Brook enters the woods, departing the logging road on the right and soon the sights and sounds of an active logging industry drop from memory; the trail cuts through a narrow hardwood corridor and passes several minor streams, all of which were easily hopped over or crossed with rocks.

The mixed forest hugs the trail yet remains open enough to see into the glacially carved Slide Ravine on Moosilauke - as the minutes crept by I watched a dark grey cloud drop into the ravine and churn through the tumultuous air. For once I was glad to be down in the trees and not exposed atop the 4,802’ summit.

The white-streaked slides of Mt Clough were also coming into view as I strolled through a snow-covered boggy area to the west. It was evident that I was in a stretch of Tunnel Brook that did not see as much traffic - spruce trees leaned like dominoes begging to fall, several already lay across the path to be stepped over or around.

I could see on my watch map just up ahead was another water crossing, so far all were low enough to easily cross or to my surprise, several even bridged. Stepping up to the waters edge I scanned left to right. The ice was formed in paper-thin layers with air gaps between each layer, I could see this from areas that had melted over the prior days of sunny skies.

I reached my end.

For just a moment before turning around I shut my eyes to fully absorb the sound of Tunnel Brook at my feet - I heard jets over head, or had I? Today, these were not jets practicing in the sky as I often observe, this was wind smacking full-force into the mountainside.

*Hints of slides on the eastern face of Mt Clough*

Once the wind began funneling through the trees to where I stood, I turned and retraced my steps. Much faster this time as I had already broken through the freezing rain crust from several nights ago.

The northern end of Tunnel Ravine Trail is a nice ramble through the woods, I think next time I’ll begin from the southern trailhead in warmer weather to stroll past the 8 beaver dams and pay a long overdue visit to a few destinations in the area - plus, I’m not really one for sucking down diesel fumes while out trying to enjoy the silence of nature anyhow.

Now, I think I’ll go home and dig out a few maps and brew some tea - something to get through this -44° mayhem tomorrow night.

Overall stats for the day:

7.54-miles
2hr 36minutes
1,076’ elevation gain

Tunnel Brook Trail: The North End

Mount Wolf

Mts Crawford + Stairs