In the summer of 2013, I had one hiking goal – The Bonds. I’d heard about them, read about them and had seen pictures of them, especially the iconic pics from Bondcliff. Their remoteness and jaw-dropping beauty intrigued me. I thought often of a former co-worker who several years earlier told me I needed to making hiking the Bonds a priority. They were unlike anything else, he said.

But it’s that very remoteness that’s intimidating. The Bonds are not a quick day hike. Their location in the heart of the Pemigewasset Wilderness means the trek in whether by route of Lincoln Woods, Zealand or the Twins is long, 8 to 10 miles, one way. A traverse would be the ideal way to walk these mountains, but without a car spot it’s impossible to make that work. So when my childhood friend, Nicolle, agreed to make the Bonds her goal too, we set a date for late July. This wouldn’t be a traverse. We would start and finish at Zealand, camping at Guyot. Our hope was to drop our packs and set up camp at Guyot and then hike over to Mt. Bond, Bondcliff and make our way back for sunset on West Bond. The day started off promising, but due to circumstances beyond our control, including hot, sticky, wet weather, we only got as far as the Guyot Campsite. The Bonds would have to wait for another day.

That wasn’t an easy goal for me to let go of. In fact, it was impossible. For those of you who know me, you may have noticed that once I set a goal, I’ll do just about anything to reach out. Just a bit of a stubborn streak. I tend to hyperfocus almost to the point of obsession. The Bonds became that obsession and when I returned from that weekend with Nicolle (we did get Zealand and amazing shot on Zeacliff!)

Nicolle and I enjoying a break on Zeacliff.

I quickly decided that in two weeks time, I would hike solo, by way of Lincoln Woods and stay in the shelter at Guyot. But there was a problem. The White Mountain National Forest was intermittently closing the Lincoln Woods trail to repair damage caused by Hurricane Irene. Rumor was that the trail would be reopened on Friday nights for weekend hikers. I treated this rumor as truth and put my plan in motion. Luck was on my side and the trail reopened in time for the hike.

I got an early start on the trail, around 7 a.m. I wasn’t carrying a tent, so I needed to get to the Guyot shelter early to make sure I’d have space to lay out my sleeping bag. I moved quickly along the Lincoln Woods Trail, the trail’s flatness providing the perfect terrain for a gradual warm up. The morning sun sparkled through the trees and off the rushing waters of the Pemigewasset River. Heavy rains the day before made the river a raging force of water.

Sunlight filtering through the trees on the bank of the Pemi

The walk along the Lincoln Woods Trail, which once served as a railway for logging companies, still bears the marks of that long ago use – evenly spaced railroad ties in areas, old railway spikes. As I walked I remembered a backpacking trip in the late 1980s along this same route to spend a night a Desolation Shelter. That shelter no longer exists, nor does the bridge that once crossed the east branch of the Pemigewasset River to bring hikers over to the continuation of the Wilderness Trail. But on this day that was of no concern to me. I wouldn’t be crossing the Pemi, just walking the roughly 2.6 miles of the Lincoln Woods Trail, and another 1.8 on the Wilderness Trail.

It was at the intersection of the Wilderness Trail and the Bondcliff Trail that I stopped for a snack break. The air was cool and clear and the sky a brilliant blue. I felt good, strong, but recognized that the actual climbing hadn’t even begun. I had a lot of elevation gain to get to the 4,265-foot Bondcliff. And I had that nagging reminder in the back of my head — get to Guyot early. I put my snacks away, tightened the laces on my boots and my pack and set off on the 4.4 mile Bondcliff Trail.

Like so many hikes, I kept my head down, focused on the task in front of me. When I got tired, I kept putting one foot in front of the other. As I made it over a few water crossings, the trail steepened considerably and my heart pounded in tune with steps. My breathing was labored. I found myself in familiar mantra territory “why the f*ck am I doing this?”, I asked myself. This mantra played over and over in my head, like it does on the challenging parts of any hike. It usually lasts until I get to a place where I feel progress is being made. On the Bondcliff Trail it was climbing hand over hand on the rock wall (or as I called it  ‘mini’ Bondcliff’) that signals Bondcliff is near.

Mini-Bondcliff

And when the iconic Bondcliff image came into view, I was thrilled.  It looked like what I had seen in pictures and yet it somehow looked completely different. The trail to Mt. Bond was so clear and the view to West Bond with its deep scars from slides made the real image, the one I could see in person, so much more textured and vibrant. This time, I took off my pack and sat down to eat lunch and take in the view. The perspective from the Bonds is unlike any other in the Whites. Like people had told me, this place truly felt like the wilderness. Trees and mountains as far as the eye could see.

Still concerned about getting to the shelter, I strapped my pack back on and began the 1.2 mile climb to Mt. Bond, 4,698 feet. By far, that was the hardest stretch of hiking I had done in a while. I was completely exhausted. The final ascent up Mt. Bond seemed to take forever and it’s on that ascent that I ran into the Guyot caretaker. “Make sure you put all of your food in the bear box,” she warned. “We had a bear in camp this morning who rubbed up against tents and took food from people.” This should be interesting, I thought to myself. “ We scared him away, but don’t know if he’ll stay away.”

Bondcliff coming into view with Mt. Bond in the distance.

I assured her I would lock my food up when I got there. She continued down toward Bondcliff and I climbed the last 20 feet or so to the top of Mt. Bond, pushing the thought of any bear encounters out of mind. The view helped — it was breathtaking. Mt. Washington and the presidentials clearly visible, everything seemed visible. I couldn’t help thinking how lucky I was to be hiking in this weather. I left the summit and a short time later I was descending the .2 miles to Guyot Campsite. It was about 1:30 p.m. and shockingly, I was the very first person in the shelter. Thinking about the potential for a bear encounter, I spread my sleeping bag out on the far right side of

From the summit of Mt. Bond.

the shelf. I didn’t want to be directly on the floor.  And, when the caretaker came by about an hour later to collect the fee, I asked if she had any tips for me in case the bear decided to visit the doorless shelter, especially since at this point, no one else was there. “Well,” she said, “you’ll want to make sure you appear bigger than you are. And it wouldn’t hurt to keep a couple of big rocks at your side.”  Act bigger than I am and collect some rocks. I could do that. Turns out I really had no reason to worry. As the afternoon wore on, more and more people filled the campsite. Every tent platform was taken, tents were set up in the overflow area and on the paths throughout the campsite. In fact, when I left the next morning, people were sleeping in sleeping bags along the trail back up to Bondcliff Trail. And the shelter was certainly not empty. At least 14 people spent the night in there, including two dogs, I was not worried about a bear coming anywhere near us.

After I finished dinner, making it on what was then my new favorite camping accessory — a Jetboil stove — I joined some other hikers on a climb of West Bond (4,540 feet) to catch the sunset. What a difference it is to hike without a heavy pack! I

Bondcliff from the summit of West Bond.

didn’t quite feel like I was floating, but it was close. And like every part of that day’s hike, the views from West Bond, made more beautiful by the golden sunlight, took my breath away. The air, slightly cool and crisp, seemed to accentuate the mountains. I loved that summit and to this day it remains one of my favorites.

I met so many interesting people at Guyot, the couple who hikes everywhere with their dog, the Russian family who had been backpacking for a couple of days and were happy the dry weather had arrived since everything they had was soaking wet. I sat in awe watching them make soup from scratch that night, cutting up the vegetables, preparing the other ingredients. All I had done was heat up water for my freeze-dried Katmandu Curry.And the next morning, as I cooked my breakfast I had a great conversation with a gentleman who had just retired from the military and was now getting back into hiking, an activity he had always loved.

It was on my hike out that I got my picture on Bondcliff (because of the wind I was way too scared to stand on the edge!)

On the edge of Bondcliff!

and a picture of the view from Mt. Bond to Bondcliff. Two of my favorite pictures.

And the long walk on the Wilderness Trail and Lincoln Woods Trail gave me a lot of time to reflect on what I had accomplished and what I would take away with me. Sometimes the answers are clear. I’m always learning something on each hike I do, and occasionally the lesson, the thing I need to carry with me, is obvious. This hike was different. It was easy to stick with my goal because the weather had been

View from Mt. Bond looking back at Bondcliff.

spectacular, but if it had been worse, would I have continued onward just because I said I would do it and I was trying to alleviate my disappointment from two weeks prior? I have a stubborn streak, but hope I’d know when to throw in the towel, just like I knew two weeks earlier. But on that trip I was hiking with a friend and had to take her safety and capabilities into consideration. When I hike alone, I think I push myself much harder than when I hike with others. Maybe the lesson the Bonds taught me is that it’s OK to push forward when your goal is in sight, but be mindful, aware and ready to change direction knowing the mountains will still be there another day.

From the summit of West Bond.