Franconia Ridge

Here is the Cramwell Snacks team that showed up when I suggested we take advantage of the long daylight hours and do a longer hike. It was in the nineties and a fine day to hike ten times longer than we have yet this year. We had dorky hats. We had sunscreen. We had three kinds of what we fondly call CRAM. And we had more bad eighties songs to torture each other with than seem humanly possible.

And so, onward ho. Over the rivers...

...and through the woods. We took the Falling Waters Trail from the Lafayette Campground parking lot on Rt. 93.

Eventually we made it up on the Franconia Ridge, at the top of Little Haystack Mountain, and things got a little trippy in the heat.

We began the mile-plus ridge hike alongside odd rock formations over to Lincoln. Or at least it kept seeming we were at Lincoln and then we weren't yet. "Only three more false peaks to go!" was a mantra.

We watched beetles, were bitten by other bugs, admired rock sculptures, watched ravens chase a bald eagle, and attempted to force feed another hiker Advil.

We finally made it to Lafayette, and we could see the AMC's Greenleaf hut a mile downhill. Powered by discussions of political outrage and thoughts of possible lemonade at the hut we made it there by about 5pm. Five glasses of lemonade later we limped our way down to the Old Bridle Path.
It was another few miles of mountain to go. By now we were in giggling fits. "Shut your cram hole!" and "You make me think of all the colors of the cramblow," being some of our feeble minded witicisms. We eventually made it down and found an outdoor table in Lincoln and ate back all the calories we'd burned in about two minutes.
It was a good day.