On Taming the Backpack: Cohos Trail, Stewartstown/Clarksville

August 9, 2009February 23, 2026 / Ellen Kolb

Second in a series of posts about my 2009 hike on the northern section of the Cohos Trail.

(Update, 2026: Sportsman’s Lodge closed long ago, but nearby Coleman State Park now has cabins as well as tent sites. The CT has been re-routed from Coleman State Park on a more direct route to Clarksville; see the CT website. The re-route saves a few miles but removes the trail from lovely Macallaster Road. Rudy’s Cabins and Campgrounds is still welcoming guests, although it’s changed a bit since my trip.)

This is the first full day of moving under my own power for this trip. No cars, no one to bail me out. This is worth noting only because this is the beginning of my first hiking trip lasting more than two days. Thus I celebrate turning 50. Here’s where I find out if my months of preparation were helpful.

From Sportsman’s Lodge on Diamond Pond Road, I picked up the Cohos Trail northbound and headed to Rudy’s Cabins & Campground in Clarksville. I called manager Kathleen a couple of weeks ago to ask about a tent site. She confirmed that she had some, but she quickly added “the weather can be nasty, & there’s no bathhouse.” She told me a vacant camp (meaning cabin) was available for the night at a very reasonable rate. Sounded good to me. I’ll have other nights to use my tent.

The trip from the lodge to Rudy’s amounted to a 6 ½ hour walk, which included several short stops for snacks & water, 10 minutes of befuddlement at one intersection, & 3 very long minutes backtracking to find the map & databook which had fallen out of my pocket. I had sunshine for all of it. Most of the miles were on town roads & well-defined snowmobile trails.

I started the day with a fine breakfast at the lodge. I am REAL glad I started the day with that; turns out I needed it. I delayed my departure until 7:45, right after channel 9’s forecast for a sunny day. I shouldered my heavy pack (30 pounds, feels like 40, wish it were 20), fastened a small bag with camera & snacks around my waist, took up my trekking pole, and was off.

An inauspicious start: I barely made it up the driveway. That little uphill slope felt like a mountain to me with that pack. I stopped at the mailbox & tweaked the pack straps to try to get more comfortable. I did that three more times in the first quarter mile. Finally I decided to stop at Coleman & remove the pack for serious adjustments. I found that one side of the sternum strap was misthreaded, and that was a quick fix. It took me a bit longer to adjust the shoulder straps to put the padding where I needed it most. Five minutes later, with the pack sitting more comfortably, I continued on my way.

Any experienced backpacker could have seen that problem coming. I didn’t. For all the hiking I did in preparation for this trip, I didn’t do any of it with a serious amount of weight in my pack. Mistake. I’m very glad I’m not on the mountainous part of the CT. I wouldn’t have been able to manage this load on a serious hill. Today’s travel was mostly along easy town roads, with the last few miles on snowmobile trails.

Heath Road was signed & easy to find. It’s a two-lane-wide dirt road, narrowing after a little bridge to maybe a lane & a half, but definitely a maintained road (though a sign warned that the road was “class V”, maintained only between May & December). I kept the CT map handy, but I was sure I could count on road signs.

Well, for awhile, I couldn’t. I came to an intersection at a farm, with a little gated lane to the right. Map showed a turn at a gated lane by a farm. I turned up the lane, & found that the gate was festooned with no fewer than four No Trespassing signs. I looked carefully for a CT blaze & saw none. I was extremely reluctant to ignore the signs, for two reasons. First, I had no desire to spend any time being dragged down to the state police in Colebrook. (Stewartstown does not boast a police department, & according to Mrs. C, thereby hangs a tale – but I digress.) I’m sure I’m not carrying enough cash for bail or a fine or whatever else they extract from trespassers around here. Second, and decisively, I know that the CT Association has spent years working with landowners, trying to get easements & permissions. It’s a delicate business. One angry landowner could set trail development back five years.

Hooray for timidity & prudence. A few more minutes on Heath Road brought me to the intersection I sought, complete with – yes! — real town-maintained street signs. Bear Rock Road was much livelier than Heath, meaning about 7 cars passed me. Each driver gave me a cheerful wave. Bear Rock is a pleasant road, but not a shady one. I was glad to have sunscreen & a hat.

Flat town roads are all well & good, and certainly better suited to my experience & temperament than mountains, but I knew “flat” couldn’t last. The day’s aerobic workout began on Macallaster Road. That’s where I found the farm-and-gate referred to on the map. I stopped for a few minutes for a snack, and found to my amazement that my cell phone was picking up a faint signal. I texted an I’m-OK message to my daughter back home, and she texted me right back. That, I suspect, is the last communication I’ll be doing via cell this week. The phone’s main usefulness from here on out will be as an alarm clock & contact list.

The snack was plenty. I found I didn’t want a huge lunch. It probably would have made me drowsy. Quick snacks and water stops got me through the day, although I got tired of swinging my pack off to refill my small water bottle. For tomorrow, I’ll rig an easy-to-reach strap for the quart-size Gatorade bottle that serves as my main reservoir.

My trekking pole earned its keep today. I’ve avoided it for most of my hikes in the past. One stiff knee and one persistent case of plantar fasciitis in recent months have persuaded me that I need one. It made my morning hike easier and my afternoon hike possible.

Three cars in caravan came down Macallaster at one point, one of them trailing the acrid odor of overworked brake pads. This drove home to me the fact that whoever put those contour lines on the map wasn’t kidding. I got smiles & waves from the drivers, with encouraging words thrown in. Pressing onward uphill, with breathing & pulse becoming more labored, I told myself that I used to pay Gold’s Gym to move me to workouts like this. I never had such pleasant views on a treadmill, though. There were green hills all ’round, near & far, sunshine pouring down on everything.

I was struck, as I was yesterday, by the variety & vigor of all the wildflowers on the roadside. This area can have very inhospitable weather & it certainly has a short growing season. No matter: the wildflowers, no doubt considered weeds, are running riot here. They’re no less beautiful for being common.

Eventually I passed Creampoke Road – I love that name – and saw quite a camp there. A hybrid mobile-home/permanent structure was occupied today by two or three generations of a family having a good visit. A little dog barked at me fiercely, bringing my presence to everyone’s attention. Who should be part of the gathering but one of the women who had driven past me an hour or so before! “You’re making good time,” she exclaimed, and asked me where I was headed. I told her I was going to Rudy’s for the night. Everyone around here knows about Rudy’s Cabins, apparently. The family wished me well.

I turned onto Haines, a rough class VI road that gets no town maintenance. Shortly, a bicyclist came into view. I called out to him that he was doing the real work, pedaling on gravel. He asked me if I was doing the CT & was pleased with my answer. He gave me an update on conditions up ahead. Within a couple of minutes, we both realized that we had met at last June’s gathering of CT supporters. I was glad to have his good cheer & encouragement as fatigue began to set in.

CT blazes were handy as the road petered out to a snowmobile trail. I made my left turn at Weirs Tree Farm, just as map & databook directed. There was a scene that stopped me in my tracks: a clear view to the north, hills & mountains a-plenty. The Connecticut Lakes were out there somewhere, concealed by ridges.

At this point, I had to lean heavily on my trekking pole with each step. Just two miles to go – and I’m glad it wasn’t three. I was tired, and I knew the signs: wobbly knees, near-inability to look up since I had to concentrate on where I was placing my feet, repeated sharp jolts to my knee as I stumbled. This is how a person gets hurt on a hike. So much for my “training”! Getting to Rudy’s put some heart back into me.

A re-route last May took the CT a mile or so away from Rudy’s. The short walk away from the trail was absolutely worth it. The camp that owner Kathleen had reserved for me looked ready to fall down, but then I went inside. It was just fine! Comfortable, snug, electricity & running water, and situated right on Clarksville Pond: an altogether acceptable alternative to a night in a tent. I went to the campground’s office to pay for my night’s stay and to thank Kathleen, but she wasn’t there. I tucked my payment & a note into the office.

First thing I did at the cabin was take my boots off. (Ahhhhhh.) Second thing was sit on the porch & relax. I heard a low thrum & quickly looked up – and there was a hummingbird, barely a foot & a half from my face. I barely had time to register the amazing sight before it flew away. Plenty of birds are here along the shore.

So it’s a happy end to my first long day. I am content. I had hoped to get some sunset photos, but it’s cloudy — all shades of gray. Pretty, in its way.

Preparing to hike the northern section of the Cohos Trail

August 8, 2009February 22, 2026 / Ellen Kolb

First in a series of 12 posts journaling my 2009 hike on the northernmost section of the New Hampshire’s Cohos Trail.

2026 update: I was out of cell phone & Internet range on this 2009 trip, but of course times have changed. Cell service is now available in much of New Hampshire’s North Country, but never stake your life on the availability of a cell signal. The “trail angels” of whom I wrote in 2009 are no longer active, so for the most up-to-date information about accommodations and shuttles, go to cohostrail.org or the Facebook page for Friends of the Cohos Trail. You can email inquiries to cohos@cohostrail.org.

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With the help of a Concord Coach bus to Gorham and a shuttle drive to Big Diamond Pond from two longtime Cohos Trail (CT) supporters, I’ve arrived at Sportsman’s Lodge in Stewartstown [2013 note: no longer in business]. The CT passes about a mile south of here, through Coleman State Park. I could have camped there, and it’s a pleasant enough place, but Roger & Linda run a fine inn at Sportman’s & I always enjoy coming back here. Their support of the trail’s hikers through the years has been tremendous.

While the CT is actually over 160 miles long, my goal for the next two weeks is quite modest: just the northernmost section, concentrating on the Connecticut Lakes. I’m planning to take my time & see all I can manage to see along the way.

We had a beautiful day for our drive up from Gorham, and we took our time up Rts. 16 & 26. We stopped in Dixville Notch, where my companions showed me the remains of an early 19th century homestead – nothing left but gravestones. We also stopped at Flume Brook, which must look heavenly to hikers coming down from Dixville Peak.

As we drove up Diamond Pond Road, they told me about a man who lives on Big Diamond Pond & has a big model railroad scene in his yard. Someone vandalized it a few weeks back, & they wanted to see what was left. Thus began the day’s highlight – better even than the dayhike I took later. We found the house with the train display, next to a boat launch for Big Diamond Pond. I saw what was clearly a labor of love by a real railroad fan. The scene must have been close to 30 feet long. The tracks wound around representations of all kinds of NH & North Country landmarks, including the Magalloway fire tower & the Old Man of the Mountain. The vandals, ignoring the scenery & decorations, contented themselves with tearing up the tracks.

A woman at the house saw us reviewing the damage, and she came out to chat. Her name is Mrs. C, and her husband built the model railroad. She said that when they woke up one morning and saw the damage, her husband was thoroughly disheartened. They reported the vandalism to the state police, and the report was picked up by both local newspapers. The response, according to Mrs. C, was incredible: people from NH, VT, ME & PQ wrote & called, offering help in rebuilding. “Where else in the world could you live where a story like that could make the front page of TWO newspapers?” she laughed, shaking her head at the results. The upshot is that repairs are underway. Oh, she was full of stories about Big Diamond Pond & its families & their histories. She was careful to point out that she’s not a native — “I’ve only been here 25 years” — but she loves this place. She & her husband lived in Maine & loved snowmobiling (still do), & one day their snowmobile outing brought them to this pond. They were smitten. They moved out of Maine and never looked back.

We stopped to look at a wrecked display, and found something being rebuilt instead. It was a totally unexpected delight.

She’s fascinated by my hiking plans. She saw my driver’s Cohos Trail hat, and she asked about the trail. She had heard of it but didn’t know much about it. We told her about it from our various perspectives. She asked me about the section I’ll be hiking, and I described the route. She nodded and said, “Yup. Most of those are snowmobile trails.” (She sported a Swift Diamond Riders sweater.) This isn’t the first time I’ve benefited from the work done by snowmobile clubs.

Later in the day, I hiked out from the lodge to check out a short stretch of the CT between Coleman State Park & Tumble Dick Notch. The trail was extremely muddy – I mean boot-sucking, thank-you-for-Gore Tex muddy. I had a sunny day with a breeze, so bugs were only a minor nuisance. Moose tracks were everywhere. I was actually quite nervous about surprising a moose, but I didn’t encounter any on the trail. After an hour & a half, I came to the good view at the notch (pictured above), where I stopped for pictures before turning around. The trail is well-blazed & no trouble to follow in this stretch.

I’m enjoying luxury here at the lodge, including a good burger for dinner. I’m the only guest at the moment, so I ate dinner in front of the lodge’s huge TV watching the Sox, who aren’t having much luck today. I repacked my pack and tried to pare down my load, knowing that this was my last chance. I pulled out some odds & ends, but the big heavy things are the tent & the bear canister with food. I can’t do without them. I’m leaving a bag of clean clothes here, along with the aforementioned odds & ends. I’ll return in 12 days to reclaim them. Off to pare more. Camera case is the latest casualty.

One of Mrs. C’s remarks keeps coming back to me: “You have to love it here,” spoken very seriously, with the unspoken corollary: “…because it sure isn’t going to love you.” Winters are tough, unemployment is high, and all the kids leave the area as soon as they graduate (“our biggest export,” she lamented). She does love it, though.

Ice storm recovery

April 28, 2009February 22, 2026 / Ellen Kolb

The December 2008 ice storm in southern New Hampshire, now four months past, has become a reference point for all my observations of southern NH trails this spring. I recently visited Miller State Park and Pack Monadnock to see how recovery is going.

I can’t begin to speculate on how many people it has taken to return trails around here to usable condition. The auto road, still gated to keep cars out, is clear all the way to the summit. The road sports a new edging of wood chips and sawdust from all the overhangs and broken limbs cleared from ice-damaged trees.

park road lined with ice-damaged trees — *Auto road at Miller State Park, Peterborough, NH, showing tree damage from ice storm.*

The lower end of the auto road is now clear, with deadfall and snapped tree limbs piled at the road’s edges. Hardwoods predominate at the base of the mountain, and they took the brunt of the storm damage. The destruction must have seemed overwhelming to the first people who came by to check it out just after the storm. The cleared road testifies to a lot of effort since then. Even so, I was stunned for a few minutes when I got out of my car and had my first look around.

The few other cars in the lot when I arrived belonged to members of a trail-clearing party of Friends of the Wapack. The group’s web site says that there will be a work party somewhere along the trail every weekend this season, and this must have been Pack Monadnock’s turn. I heard a chainsaw being used in the woods off to my left as I descended from the summit later in the morning.

I decided to walk up the auto road, wondering just how blocked the Wapack and Marion Davis trails must be. I brought my camera in the hope of seeing some wildflowers growing low to the ground, but there has been way too much cleanup activity along the road to allow anything to sprout along the edges. I don’t doubt that there are plenty of flowers farther from the road and along the trails. I did see lots of buds on trees and shrubs, reminders that the forest will recover as it always does after one of Nature’s big events. One tree had lost its two main limbs and looked pretty sorry, but that didn’t stop a bird from working on a good-sized nest in one of the branches that was left.

The road’s a mile & a quarter long, and it rises 700 feet. Towards the summit, where evergreens take over from the oaks & maples & birches, there is much less tree damage. The evergreens seem to have shrugged off the ice and bounced right back. The last few hundred yards of the road have blue blazes on nearby trees, and that made me wonder if the Marion Davis trail has been re-routed for a distance.

auto road at Miller State Park, New Hampshire, with evergreen trees lining the road — *Miller State Park auto road: evergreens near the summit weathered the ice storm much better than the hardwoods at Pack Monadnock’s base.*

The summit, without summer crowds, was a fine place to be. The view of Monadnock always pleases me, even on a hazy day. The cool morning was giving way to an 80+ degree afternoon, with a brisk breeze up on the landing of the fire tower. I later perched on a picnic table with my water bottle, looking over towards North Pack in its shades of green & grey. Close up, the woods show damage. From a distance, they look like they’ll be around long after I’m gone, which of course is exactly the case.

When I was here last fall, New Hampshire Audubon had volunteers at its raptor observatory near the summit, identifying birds in the fall migration. I was lucky enough to catch sight of a golden eagle that day. This weekend was different, with migration season long past. There wasn’t so much as a turkey vulture soaring overhead. I settled for chickadees in the woods.

One Subaru – or more precisely, one Subaru’s driver – drove around the closed gate to the auto road, surprising me on my way up. Aside from that, I had very little company: a half dozen dog walkers, one intrepid bicyclist, a lone runner. I was therefore unprepared for the sight in the parking lot when I finally got back down a little past 11 a.m.: more than 40 cars, with more coming in by the minute. That suggested to me that the Wapack Trail up the mountain must be in fine shape, since all the people from those cars had to be somewhere, and they weren’t on the auto road.

The ice storm left scars on the land, but recovery is underway. I’m grateful to all the volunteers whose work is bringing the trails back to life.

One for the bookshelf: “New Hampshire Rail Trails”

April 7, 2009February 22, 2026 / Ellen Kolb

I found a great book while I was browsing the table from Bondcliff Bookstore (Littleton, NH) at the recent Made In NH Expo. New Hampshire Rail Trails by Charles F. Martin (Branch Line Press, Pepperell MA, 2008) is going directly onto my shelf full of guidebooks, and will probably be in my backpack on several trips this year. He covers trails all over the state, offering the history of the various rail lines and the prospects for development of more trails. It’s not an encyclopedia, but he manages to cover quite a bit in 300 pages, including maps and a long list of organizations supporting these trails. Development of some trails is proceeding so quickly that even some of Martin’s 2008 information is outdated, but that’s hardly bad news. Martin notes which trails are likely to see extension or upgrading in the near future.

I’m delighted with this book. I’ve already made note of a trail he describes up in Bethlehem. I have a racewalk in that pleasant town next weekend, and I’ll head for the trail as soon as the race is over.

New Year’s Day, after an ice storm

January 1, 2009February 22, 2026 / Ellen Kolb / 1 Comment

Most of southern New Hampshire endured a severe ice storm as 2008 came to an end, and I’m sure I’ll be seeing the aftermath for months to come. I was heartened by what I saw in the hard-hit town of Temple on New Year’s Day. Broken branches lined the roadsides, but no roads were blocked by fallen trees. I saw half a dozen utility trucks making their way through town, their crews set on restoring service to neighborhoods that have gone without for some days now.

The trails around here, unlike the roads, are still a mess. I needed today’s outing to restore my optimism for the pace of recovery from the ice storm. Monadnock State Park is still closed. The Friends of the Wapack have posted a message on the group’s web site warning against hiking the trail for the time being, since the tree damage has rendered the trail “very hard” to follow. My favorite cross-country ski area was shut down by the storm, and the owners are doing heroic work to arrange for the extensive logging and cleanup necessary to restore at least a few kilometers to skiable (and hikable) condition.

Today proved that things are looking up, after a messy weather event that’s going to be remembered for years to come.

Horse Hill in Merrimack is ready for you

March 7, 2008February 22, 2026 / Ellen Kolb

Horse Hill Nature Preserve in Merrimack, New Hampshire almost didn’t happen. Town residents voted awhile back to purchase the land from a developer, and then they worked to make the property into a recreational asset for the town. Today, it’s ready for you to discover.

I’m happy that I can finally go to HHNP and spend several hours wandering around on marked trails without having to maneuver around junked cars and piles of spent shells from years of target practice on the land. I owe thanks to a lot of volunteers. The whole area’s cleaned up, and the trails are marked much more clearly than they were last year. The parking lot off of Amherst Road has been plowed out every time I’ve been by there this season, which means the town is making an effort to keep the preserve accessible year-round. I can spend an afternoon there without retracing my steps.

HHNP is going to become more important as Merrimack grows and new residents seek outdoor recreation close to home. It’s great to see this asset ready for the future.