or, How many Geocaches are there in northern New England
September 2007
Phds; @ the Canadian border
& they still can't take a good picture
Fall is the time of year for the PhD extravaganzas. Last year we commemorated Dave reaching age 60 with the 60 mile bike circuit event. This year, Charlie is 60, and the event was dominated by his latest passion; GPS related activities; confluences and caches.
Degree Confluence Project
Geocaching.com
Confluence hunting was an activity incorporated into our 2007 Winter event; though it nearly cost us our lives in the frozen backwoods of Maine. This time, it would be different; we would work our way back to the fateful lake in Maine; with a variety of adventures along the way, including mountain climbs, cliff hanging, extreme boating, yurting, caching in 3 states, nude beach viewing, international border violations, the yearly awards banquet, and ultimately conquer the unfulfilled task that nearly killed us last Feb.
Day 1: Newfound Lake GPS track of activities at the lake Surviving the water adventure, we returned to the marina, and the bungalo. In the later afternoon, we returned to the north end of the lake and sought 3 geocaches, the last of which took us inside a dark forest after sunset. We found all 3 and returned to the bungalo in the moonlight. Day 2: Willoughby, 1st Confluence, GPS track of activities at L. Willoughby The start of the trail featured bridges over wetlands, and a hardwood forest full of large boulders. The trail soon headed up the flank of the mountain. At Pulpit Rock, the trail opened to the cliffs, and we had a great view of the Lake. Northern Vermont was hilly, but not mountainous. Aside from getting briefly lost in West Charlston, we found the correct turnoff, just missed being killed by a monstrous farm vehicle, and continued toward our first confluence (45N 72W) on increasingly narrower roads. We traversed the town of
Holland, mostly dirt roads and farms. Day 3: Aziscohos, & redemption GPS track of activities at L. Aziscohos Thus concluded the Fall PhD adventure; scoring 2 confluences, 7 geocaches, a 2700 ft mountain, 720 miles of driving with 4 guys in a little Rav4, and a killer lake. Undeniably the greatest geo-adventure yet.
Dave was not with us this time, so with just 4 PhDs, the possibility of cramming into a single vehicle arose. We elected to take Charlie's Rav4, loaded with 2 kayaks, and all the junk necessary for the luxury camping that has been our style in recent years. We met at the usual Canton lot, in the shadow of Big Blue, and set out for our first destination; Borb's bungalo at Newfound Lake.
An uneventful ride on the interstate; we stopped at the NH liquor store for supplies, and arrived on Newfound Lake at midday.
Borb has acquired a powered watercraft, and wanted us to see it in action. We drove to a marina on the north end of the lake, and Borb piloted us out of the cove & into the windswept wild waters. The GPS recorded a top speed of 36mph as the boat rocketed south, in the hands of our maniacal captain. We toured the Lake perimeter, saw some interesting terrain along the shore. Tom got soaked sitting up on the bow while Borb was performing extreme maneuvers in the chop.
and Canadian border
GPS track of activities at 45N 72W
GPS track of activities at Yurt
The journey north took us first to a stop at Dick Brown Pond, then on through Plymouth, and Rt93. As we approached Dave's neighborhood, near Thornton, we spied the cliffs of Dickey, recalling another death defying PhD adventure from 10 years past. 
North of the Franconia range, we stopped briefly at Moore Reservoir, a dam on the Connecticut R. After that we continued on smaller roads, eventually arriving at the southern end of Lake Willoughby, with its impressive glacial scoured cliffs. A short walk along a shore trail brought us to a cache site at the nude beach. The cache was quickly found, we spotted a solitary, frustrated nudist waiting for the temperature to rise. We then retreated to locate the trailhead for the climb up Mt Pisgah.
The Trail continued upward. Borb threatened to cramp & quit; Matt was overcome with acrophobia. The trail took us to a forested summit, then on to a cache, which featured a bullet hole in the tupperware. Shortly over the crest of the mountain, the trail led to another cliff overlook. This afforded us a view to the northern end of the Lake. We sat on the edge of the precipice, while Matt remained safely in the background. We retraced our path down the mountain, and proceeded on the northward journey.
We arrived at closest road approach & viewed an inhospitable dense wetland full of bushes and mud. Details of the hunt are described in the official online report, in summary, it was a wet shoe slog for a quarter mile, the severity of which caused Borb to withdraw. The rest of us achieved the confluence, and, on the return trip, encountered a new threat, death by electrocution on a live fence. Recovering at the car, we shook the mud off and drove on, to seek out a clandestine approach to the nearby Canadian border.
Because the border is north of 45N, the GPS was unable to bring us to an exact destinaton. We drove on a northerly side road, and arrived at a farm house with an only-in-Vermont crooked window. To our amazement, a bullet ridden border marker was spotted right behind the house, and an east-west cleared swath running off to the horizon, defined the Canadian line. There was nobody at the house; we clowned at the border for a while, then began the long trek across Vermont & New Hampshire to our overnight abode at the yurt.
The yurt at Little Dummer Pond was easily located; we got through the barriers, set up essential housekeeping, and started preparing the traditional feast. As night fell, we conducted the PhD award ceremony, full of satire and acrimony, wine and vodka, bravura, laughter and posturing.
Overnight, the climate was relatively mild; we didn't have the stove stoking crises that plagued the Feb. event. A vocal loon kept us awake singing all night.
A dense ground fog greeted us as we left the yurt, and headed north along the Androscoggin river. By the time we came to the dam at the south end of Aziscohos, it was beginning to lift. We had an unsuccessful cache find at the dam, then started the long dirt road ride to the 45N 71W confluence.
The fog was rapidly clearing out as we made our way up the Lake. When we arrived at Raspberry Lane, the location of our near death experience, it was barely recognizeable. Moving oninto new territory, we reached the bottom of the hill, scouted out a path to the lake shore. Portaging the kayaks, we arrived at a launch site on the rocky shore. In a short time, Tom & I were paddling on course for the confluence, 60m off the eastern shore. 
Light wind made it hard to keep position in the water. Finally the readings zeroed, and we had bagged the elusive 45N 71W at last.
Landing at the shore, we went up in the woods to find a geocache. It was not at the specified place, but was found nevertheless. It remains the most remote cache our group has found, and has not been found by any other cache hunters to date (Jan-08)
One last act in our Aziscohos trip; to find a cache hidden at B-17 crash site memorial. It was a slow going drive on terrible roads; a local we met at the Lake gave us directions. We found the memorial, and the cache, even though Tom fell off a nearby cliff, sustaining no injuries. After this, we began the long journey home. We took a direct route through Grafton Notch, site of our daring snowshoe climb to Table Rock. We stopped for a picture. the place didn't look as dangerous as it was in the snow.
