In the summer of 2015, I went to visit my aunt in New Hampshire so that we could go on a hike together. We were in the market for something that was moderate with a great view. After doing a little bit of research, some of which included a painfully outdated, not to mention faded, guidebook, we chose the 6 mile loop that led to the Arethusa Falls, connected to the Frankenstein Cliff trail, and eventually led us back to the parking lot. I was excited to break in my new hiking shoes and finally get back to the trails after being sidelined for a few weeks. It took a couple hours drive to get there, but the traffic was minimal and the parking lot was surprisingly easy to find. I can’t tell you how many trails I’ve been to where it’s more likely that you’ll find Bigfoot than the parking entrance, but thankfully, this was not the case there. After we parked the car, we hoisted our backpacks onto our backs and began our hike.
Like most of the trails through the White Mountains, I felt completely secluded from the developed world. Though there were a lot of people headed to and coming from the falls, they were all friendly and mindful of others on the trail. I loved seeing the different kinds of vegetation and birds that surrounded us. I spent the first half of the year in California, which hosts an extremely different ecosystem so New England wildlife was very exciting to me.
It was about a mile and a half of constant uphill to get to the falls. It wasn’t very steep, but surprisingly enough there were sets of manmade steps scattered throughout the climb. There could be a specific and perfectly legit reason for their presence, but I know I would much rather climb a slope than walk up stairs while hiking. Also, I’ve always believed that it doesn’t matter how in shape you are, everyone hates stairs.
So we made our way to the falls and it seemed like a lot of the people we encountered felt like it was farther than a mile and a half away. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t, but I think when you expect something to be short it can feel long. There were these two girls who did not come prepared and were very unhappy with their lethal combination of heat, exercise, and tight jeans. I honestly don’t know how they made it to the falls wearing jeans in that heat, but I gave them my extra water bottle because they were champs for pushing forward and finishing their hike. We also met an older man who was drinking the water from the stream. Apparently he’s never watched anything Bear Grylls because if he had he would know just how dangerous that is. Simple Man vs. Wild logic. The waterfall was definitely worth the effort. Since much of California is in a drought, whenever I hiked to a waterfall there it would either be dried up or just a small pipe spewing what can only be described as a trickle of water down a rock. This waterfall was full of life and the way the rocks stacked
up behind it was breathtaking. The falls were named for the Percy Bysshe Shelley poem Arethusa. The nymph Arethusa was chased and harassed by the river god Alpheas after he found her bathing in his waters and fell in love with her. She transformed herself into a fountain of water, but still pleaded to the gods for help. Artemus took pity on her and broke the fountain to release her stream of water from it’s underground well. This allowed her waters to run along the earth and empty out into the ocean. Unfortunately, Alpheas found her and flowed his water into hers. I like to think that the waterfall pays a tribute to Arethusa and her struggle, especially since her story did not have a happy ending.
After spending some time sitting on the rocks by the falls, we decided to get on with our hike. We retraced our steps about a fourth of a mile back to the fork where the Arethusa trail broke off to become the Frankenstein Cliff trail. Following the trail up to Frankenstein Cliff, the seclusion truly set in. Apparently the majority of the people visiting were only interested in the waterfall so they would follow the Arethusa trail back to the parking lot and skip the Cliff portion. This meant that my aunt and I were on our own for the rest of the hike. There’s always that underlying eerie feeling that goes along with being alone in the woods. In the back of my mind I’m always just like ‘if I were to get eaten by a bear here, nobody would know’. Thankfully this fear is always counterbalanced by the peacefulness of the wilderness as well as the focus needed to traverse the steep and rough terrain. That’s another big difference between hiking on the east coast vs hiking on the west coast. All the hiking I did in California had a clear path while here in New England you need to go marker to marker and trust that you’re going the right way. East coast hiking definitely makes me feel like I’m closer to nature, which is what I want when I set out for the wilderness.
Eventually we arrived at the top where the trees parted to reveal the most magnificent view of the Crawford Notch. I did what I could to take pictures of it, but nothing could capture the feeling I get when I’m looking out onto my great perhaps. It’s a special moment when you realize that you’re not just looking out at the mountains, but for the time being, you’re part of one. We spent some time there, but we were harassed by a very determined chipmunk. He would come right up to us and try to climb into our backpacks and steal our food! At one point we thought we were rid of him because we hadn’t seen him for a few minutes, but soon enough he returned and this time he had backup. He was flanked by a squirrel and another chipmunk. At that point, we decided it was time to start our descent.
As we made our way down the mountain we were faced with loose rocks that allowed us to show off our graceful tendencies- or lack there of. Amid the struggle of staying vertical there were some really nice views that peaked through the brush. Since we spent about a mile of the descent along side a cliff, it was really cool when there would be a break in the trees that would reveal a steep drop off. As we trekked on, me painfully realizing my new hiking shoes were half a size too big and my aunt doing her best to not get us lost, we came across an old railway. The trail led us right under it, which was really cool! Finally, we made it to a paved walking path that brought us to the parking lot.
Overall, this was a good hike with some beautiful views. I completely recommend doing the full six miles. The waterfall was great, but the view of the notch was breathtaking and worth the climb. Also, having the majority of the trail to ourselves allowed for some great conversation between my aunt and I. If you’re thinking about hiking Mount Willard, but you want to do a test run to see if you can handle it, this loop is just what you’re looking for. I’m excited to do some more exploring and reviewing of the different hikes in the US. Hopefully I’ll be able to get back out there soon. Good luck and safe travels to all of you!
Memoirs From The Trails 