Cannon Mountain, NH

Since rain was predicted for Saturday, we decided to wait it out and leave that night, which gave me ample time to clean out the car and get my gear organized. We were on the road by six, and made good time for the first half of the trip, then my car started acting up again, shuddering and losing power if I tried to push it up to 55 mph. I slowed down and tried not to ask too much from my poor little car, and she made it all the way to the Lafayette Campground. We pitched our tents, had a short meal, and hit the sack under a clear, starry sky.

The stars weren't there for long. A rainstorm hit and lingered on and off all night, but we were warm and dry in our cozy North Face tents. I woke up way too early, as I always do on trips, but the others managed to get up and out by six or so. We parked at the north end of Profile Lake (time-consuming mistake number 1), had breakfast, attempted to find the sign-in box, and got geared up. We took two ropes, one pack, a full rack, a little food, and three liters of water. Heading down the bike trail, as directed in the guide book, took us to a dead end (mistake number 2), so we cut across to the other side of the lake and hiked south until we finally found the real bike path. After a mile or more, we finally began to think that we had missed the trail (number 3), and backtracked a long ways to the cutoff. This proved to be the correct trail, and soon we were on the talus slopes picking our way carefully toward the awesome Cannon Cliff.

The Whitney-Gilman Ridge is the most prominent feature on the entire face. The sharp, exposed arete catches the morning sun, while the wet and shadowy north face contrasts with the ridge's radiance. A party of two were just ahead of us, so we lazed around in the sun and snapped pictures while Benoit scavenged for gear at the base. His two biners and spectra sling were the first of quite a horde we gathered by the end of the day.

When the second of the first party reached the belay, Rob began leading the first pitch (5.4). Soon, Benoit and I joined him at the spacious ledge. I led the second pitch (5.5), following closely on the heels of the preceding party. It was good that I waited a little while before starting this pitch, because I almost caught up with the second in the middle of a dump, which he just couldn't wait any longer to take. I decided to hang around for a while before finishing the pitch. The two in front got way off route on this second pitch, and I started to follow them up some tottering heap of choss before I realized the error of my ways, and downclimbed a bit to the real belay ledge. The rock at Cannon is none too good even on the classic routes, and if you get off-route...beware! You're likely to bring down half the route.

Benoit was the chosen one to lead the crux 5.7 pitch. At this point we were joined on the ledge by the two biggest assholes I've seen while climbing. I won't go into specifics, but I'll say everyone was quite happy when they got out in front and were never seen again. So, Benoit begins his lead, which goes up twin cracks to the arete, swings out onto the north face with about three hundred feet of air below (awesome!) and surmounts a tricky bulge before arriving at another good belay ledge. It was a fine lead, and I enjoyed following it even though I was wearing the pack at the time.

The party above us left a #1 Camalot at the belay, which Rob graciously returned. On that same pitch, they over-cammed a #0 Friend, which I was happy to accept as booty (they did say we were welcome to have it)! These two buffoons left yet another Camalot on the next pitch, in addition to dropping various other bits of gear along the way. Suffice it to say that our gear balance was positive by the end of this trip. Rob led this next pitch at 5.4, and I finished up with a dicey 5.7 pitch on loose rock. Although the rock quality was pretty poor throughout, the views and exposure were sensational, and are obviously the reason this is one of New England's classics.

We descended down a steep trail to the south, and at Benoit's request, cut over onto the talus again to try to scavenge some more booty from below the east side of the ridge. A long, scary scramble later and we were finally there, but we only scored a locking biner, a new belay device, and a Nalgene bottle lid for our Herculean efforts. Another long talus-scramble in Tevas (not the ideal footwear for this activity) and some careful searching led us to the descent trail, and we were finally back at the car. Despite my fears to the contrary, we experienced no car trouble on the way home. I breathed a big sigh of relief.