Ipswich High School - Tiger Yearbook (Ipswich, MA)

Page 25 text:

stories are told about it, and Haw- thorne has immortalized it in his book, “The Great Stone Face.” Webster waxed eloquent about its majesty and it brings out all the poetry in everyone who has ever seen it outlined against the blue heavens or, most impressive view of all, against an iron-gray sky with wisps of clouds wreathing its stern visage. In 1916 the stones that form the forehead of the Old Man were found to be slipping and the best stone surgeon in the country was employed to secure them. He drilled holes in the slipping rocks and fastened them tightly by means of chains to the main ledges of Can- non mountain. Nev Hampshire’s famous trade-mark is fully restored and will continue his silent medita- tions for many more years. Mt. Washington, the highest of the White Mountains, is the climax of any trip through New Hampshire. It is climbed by hundreds of people every summer although it is a tame and disappointing expedition to the expert who prefers the other moun- tains and ranges which offer more uncivilized beauty and solitude, un- disturbed by the annoying chatter of the passing tourist. However, Mt. Washington is majestically beauti- ful and offers a wonderful spectacle of lofty height and rugged gran- deur when viewed along with its sister peaks of the Presidential Range, Mt. Adams and Mt. Madi- son, from the valley near Gorham. Looking up from the lowlands, one wonders v hat convulsion of the earth’s surface could have thrown up these overpowering heaps of earth and rock. These monarchs make every beholder feel poig- nantly his insignificance and small- ness in comparison to the works of nature. No wonder that the Indians were terrified and dared not ap- proach these giants, believing them to be the abode of the Great Spirit. However, the white men had no such scruples and immediately started to put Mt. Washington on a paying basis. There have been several Tip-Top and Summit Houses before the pres- ent ones which bid fair to be the longest survivors of the elements on the summit. The Boston and Maine Railroad has built a cog railway up the side, and automobiles take pas- sengers up the Carriage Road sev- eral times a day. It would appear that man has tamed Mt. Washing- ton, but once in a while, the old mountain goes on the rampage and takes his toll of human lives. Es- pecially does he punish reckless- ness and foolhardiness among his followers, and anyone who climbs Mt. Washington after October 1 is literally taking his life in his hands. Although all may appear serene from the Glen, with a warm breeze blowing and the sun shining, there may be at the top below zero tem- peratures and a gale blowing that will toss a person off. “Familiarity breeds contempt” does not apply to Washington or the rest of the Presi- dential Range. An Appalachian Mt. Club guide may become lost in a blizzard as easily as may the most inexperienced climber, but his chances of survival are greater. However, Mt. Washington is usually tractable, and from the summit one may behold on a clear day all of New Hampshire and other parts of New England and Canada. 23

Page 24 text:

kVVXXVXVV ,VVX%X% wwvxvvx vvxxvww .x wvvvxx wv .xxxwvxv xv % xv% quently seen on the trails. For the most part, undergraduates at Dart- mouth, they spend their summers and all other available time in New Hampshire. They are invaluable in making life safe and comfortable there. Carrying all their supplies on their backs, they carry provi- sions to forest-rangers, tip-top houses, and Appalachian huts, take care of trails, build nevr huts, and place trail-markers. Many a lost or exhausted tenderfoot or “goofer,” as they are popularly known, has offered thanks that a D. O. C. boy happened along at just the right moment to lead him to the food and warmth of a hut. Working long hours and for short pay, the boys perform these tiring but satisfying labors, so important to the welfare of mountain-climbers, simply be- cause they like it. They would do anything to stay among their be- loved peaks and they are amply re- warded by nature. All Appalachian guides and D. O. C. boys are char- acterized by their tanned healthy bodies, cheerful grins, and their un- failing good humor. One thing that makes the moun- tains so intriguing is that there is hardly a spot in them that is not steeped in legend. Perhaps the place that most abounds in history and story is Crawford Notch. The early story of this famous pass be- tween Mt. Willey and ] It. Webster is contained in the Crawford His- tory written by Ethan Allen Craw- ford, which gives in detail the rig- orous life of the early settlers. The Crawford family did the most to- ward developing and civilizing this Notch. Abel Crawford was known as the “Patriarch” of the hills and stood six feet five in his stocking feet. He had eight sons, all giants, the largest and best-known of whom was Ethan Allen Crawford. He built an inn in the Notch, farm.ed, hunted, guided innumerable travel- ers to the top of the peaks, until he became so closely bound to the mountains that he was almost a part of them. We cannot help but feel that Ethan and his father can- not be far distant in spirit from the scenes among v hich they lived and with which they have been associ- ated. There has been tragedy also in the Notch the saga of the Willey family becoming one of the best known in the mountains. The family was annihilated by a land- slide from the side of Mt. Willey back in 1821. The most tragic part of the whole episode was that, be- coming terrified at the sound of the approaching avalanche, they rushed out of their home and were crushed in the path of the slide. Thoir house, hov ever. v. ' as left untouched, the torrent having divided on a rock behind the house and rushed by on each side, leaving it stand- ing. If the familv had remained in- side, they would have escaped un- harmed. In Franconia Notch in the western part of the state is the most famous landmark in New Hampshire, the Profile, or as he is familiarly called, the Old Man of the Mountains. His profile juts out from the side of Mount Cannon as if some omnipo- tent god had left his visage stamped there. Since the Indians worshiped it and the first awestruck vdiite man beheld it, it has never failed to im- press all who see it with its expres- sion of serenity and power. Many 22

Page 26 text:

Farther to the south, Chocorua’s shape is silhouetted against the horizon, everlasting memorial to the Indian chief whose name it bears. He jumped off the top because he preferred to die rather than see the v hite man invade his last retreat, the mountains he loved. I think I can understand the way he felt. There are innumerable other land- marks and beautiful places in the mountains all of which are equally lovely or interesting as the case may be. I apologize to any other White Mountain devotees in the audience if 1 have neglected to mention their favorite peak or to sing the praises of their familiar haunts. And so New Hampshire is filled to overflowing with people who love her. They fly down the steep moun- tain sides over the crisp white snow in winter with loud cries of “Track” as they dodge between the black pine trees on their slender hickory shafts. At the first spring breeze, in their longing for a glimpse of the mountains, they back out the car and trek north, disregarding the back-roads mud for which New Hampshire is famous. In the sum- mer, west winds, blue skies reflect- ed in sparkling lakes, and pine- covered peaks send out an irresisti- ble call. Fall, perhaps the most beautiful of all the seasons, comes with the concentrated glory of red and yellow hill sides, crisp north- west winds, frosty mornings, and air so clear that it seems sometimes as if you might reach out and touch the top of Mt. Washington. Whittier loved the mountains and said so more eloquently and clearly than most of us can, although we all share his feelings. This is what he said about them after many happy years with them. “Once more, O Mountains “Once more, O Mountains of the North, unveil Your brows and lay your cloudy mantles by! And once more, ere the eyes that seek ye fail, Uplift against the blue walls of the sky Your mighty shapes, and let the sunshine weave Its golden net work in your belting woods, Smile down in rainbows from your falling flood, And on your kingly brows at morn and eve Set crowns of fire ! So shall my soul re- ceive Haply the secret of your calm and strength Your unforgotten beauty interfuse My common life, your glorious s ' hares and hues And sun-dropped splendors at my bid- ding come, Loom vast through dreams, and stretch in billowy length From the sea-level of my lowland home!” 24