July 12, 2019
Crankin the Kanc
North Haverhill to Conway
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Jackie’s avg speed: 9.7 mph
Scott’s avg speed: 10.3 mph
Weather: 60-80 degrees, overcast and rainy morning, clear hot afternoon.
It rained off and on all night, and the sky was still cloudy at dawn. I knew this without opening the cabin curtain, because no birds were singing to greet the rising sun. Rain was coming, so we made a quick breakfast of instant coffee, tea, and oatmeal, packed the gear and were pedaling out of the campground at 07:09. I watched the bikes while Scott went into a convenience store outside the campground to buy carbs. He came back with six cinnamon sugar donuts and two fat orange cranberry muffins with cream filling. How could we possibly eat all that?
We had to cover more than 60 miles because of how the towns and lodging options were spaced out. And we had to tackle two peaks. The first, Kinsman Notch, is 1,800 feet high and has a grade of about seven percent. The Notch drops down to 700 feet on the east side, so we would have a nice long climb back up to the 2,855 foot summit of Kancamagus (kane kuh MAH gus), named for the 17th century Pennacook tribe chief known as “the fearless one.”
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I had been strategizing on “crankin the Kanc” for a while. One factor was the weather. The previous few days had been over 80 degrees by noon. That would have been too hot to scale a peak with the sun beating down. We had the opposite problem today. Rain was forecast to start about 13:00, when we’d be coming down the east side.
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Cool temps and cloud cover were a blessing in the first couple hours getting to and over the Notch. But it rained during the six-mile descent, first a shower and then a deluge. My tires threw road grit into the brake pads, gouging the aluminum rims. At least there were no worries about the brakes melting from friction. Scott was on easy street with his disc brakes. The road surface was good, no potholes to dodge. Just before North Woodstock, the rain was coming down in sheets and forming rivulets that ran slantwise across the pavement. God bless the drivers, they slowed down and went wide to avoid splashing us. Oily highway runoff would have ruined our fresh rainwater bath.
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We paused in North Woodstock to look for coffee and a place to warm up. No luck. The t-shirt shops had the AC turned up so cold, it was warmer outside. And maybe soaking wet shivering cyclists were not the preferred clientele. We got back on the bikes and headed to Lincoln, the next town a mile away. Here we went into McDonald’s, where I used the air hand dryer to dry out my jacket. Scott got some coffee, and ate one of the muffins and a couple donuts. About 11:00 the sun emerged, our cue to get outside and get this done.
Kancamagus summit is 12 miles from Lincoln, with slope grades of six to eight percent, and 9.4 percent a half mile from the top. Like Bread Loaf, the Kanc has some shelves that ease the grade a bit. For most of the way, we set a pace we could maintain without getting out of breath. But after 90 minutes of stoicism, I needed to divert my attention from my aching muscles by making a mental list of all the things I’m grateful for. It’s a long list I’m saving for the last blog, but certainly I was glad to be going up the shorter west slope instead of the longer east side. Scott is strong, he doesn’t need to play mind games to accomplish an athletic feat.
The grade squeaked up to nine percent after mile 11, and I was heaving for breath. Still grateful. But now I counted seconds to prove to myself this pain would last only a little bit longer. One thousand one, one thousand two, up to one thousand sixty. Two thousand one, two thousand two … two thousand sixty. I counted up to five thousand and ten, which meant only five minutes of real hard work. I saw blue sky over the edge of the asphalt, and Scott off on the right in his royal blue jersey. At the peak at 13:10, what we had hoped for. Not bad, considering the hour break to dry out after the rain.
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Our luck was holding, the sun was still out. Apparently the 11:00 shower had spent all the water. We polished off the donuts and second muffin and started down. The east slope to the base of the mountain is only seven percent, according to the truck wedge sign. Not as steep as the Middlebury Gap descent. Even after you get to the base of the mountain, the terrain continues to slope down all the way to Conway, about 23 miles total from top to town.
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At an ice cream shop in Conway we made some calls to figure out lodging. We had enjoyed the cabin so much at North Haverhill, we rented another at the Eastern Slope Campground in Conway. At $100 including tax, it was not as good a deal, but less than the inns or B&Bs in the area. The cabin had twin bunk beds, plus a double bed, no towels or bedding. That wasn’t a problem, since we travel prepared to camp. The tiny pool was too crowded and there was no hot tub. It was fine, we were too tired to do much but eat and sleep.
After a shower, we walked along Highway 16 a short distance to a gourmet grocery for frozen veggie lasagna, a half loaf of bread, and gourmet Russet potato chips. The clerk said the lasagna was microwaveable, but maybe she meant when you put it in a microwaveable dish. When we took it out of the plastic wrap at the cabin, it was in an aluminum tray. We placed it on the little hot plate circle and did our best to heat it through. When one side got warm and bubbly, we ate that portion, then heated some more. When you’re tired and hungry, you make do.
As I was falling asleep, I made peace with all the hilly roads in Vermont. Those days got us ready for the Kanc.
Today's ride: 62 miles (100 km)
Total: 2,789 miles (4,488 km)
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