By Marty Basch

The little settlement of Ferncroft sits snugly in the southern front of the White Mountains. Containing handsome country homes near and around North Sandwich, Tamworth and Albany, it is a blissful jumping off point of colorful fields, alpine scenery, the rushing Wonalancet River and tiny signs welcoming hikers along splendid country lanes before they ascend Sandwich Range peaks like Mounts Passaconaway, Whiteface and Paugus.

Think of it as Randolph South, a community of mountain loving people recognizing the benefits of hiking. Some 52 miles of trails that wind through the White Mountain National Forest and within the Sandwich Range Wilderness are maintained by the venerable Wonalancet Out Door Club.

Ferncroft's rural beauty found by a trailhead on Ferncroft Road off Route 113A is the entry and exit for a strenuous day hike circuit of about 11.5 miles tackling both steep and ledgy Whiteface and the wooded hulking Passaconaway,  a pair of formidable four-thousand footers connected by a knobby ridge above a glorious cirque called the Bowl.

Two Mountains, One Mission

Using the Blueberry Ledge, Rollins, East Loop and Dicey Mill's Trails, my sweetheart Jan Duprey and I enjoyed an early 6:30 a.m. start under an overcast sky with the promise of temperatures hitting the mid-80s for the trek to the gnarly ledges of 4020-foot Whiteface and dense 4043-foot Passaconaway.

I had made solo hikes to both peaks, Whiteface last summer and Passaconaway in 2002. Whiteface's seriously difficult ledges was a place I vowed to never return. But Jan had not climbed either, and a man's just got to say "yes dear" now and again if he wants to see tomorrow.

The Blueberry Ledge Trail provides a gentle start over tiny Squirrel Bridge, by the homes and into the wilderness area as we plodded up the southeast side to the knobs and ledges that serve up outstanding lake vistas to Lake Winnipesaukee more than 20 miles away and mountains from Chocorua's rocky cone to the triangular top of Mount Shaw.

Whiteface, Never Again, Really, I’m Serious, Never, Ever, Again

(Yeah Right)

Whitefaces ledges are forbidding and challenging, requiring at times scrambling, reaching, crawling, cursing, praying and a promise never to return again, but really this time. The reward is some incredible real estate that is only available to those willing to prostrate themselves before the mountain gods.

Plus, the bugs were fierce.

The trek is also bit of a walk through local hiking history. A trio of simple log shelters once graced Whiteface and Passaconaway—Heermance, Rich and Shehadi. They were all called camps and fell into disrepair.

Though of historic interest—Heermance was constructed in 1912—restoring the mountain sanctuaries became difficult when the area became designated wilderness in 1984 and replacements fell within strict regulations.

Heermance was removed in 2001 by the U.S. Forest Service. Camp Shehadi was taken away in 2002 but its flat floor is still obvious while Camp Rich collapsed in 2000 along a brook shy of the Mount Passaconaway summit.

Onward

The Rollins Trail was the next leg of the journey. It's not an easy ridge walk, the pathway following a razorback at times with occasional looks down into the Bowl, a 500-acre research natural area established in 1931. The U.S. Forest Service says it's unique because there is no recorded history of logging or fire in the area. Some trees are more than 400 years old.

The col is no joyous romp through ferns either;  instead it's a rock and root march before reaching the final three-quarters of a mile push to the Passaconaway summit, which we did clockwise on the East Loop with its collection of  ledge viewpoints (one out to Vermont in the west and the other over to the Belknap Range and Squam Lake) and a rather dull wooded summit point.

The sharp descent from the top was a chore but once that's accomplished, it's about four somewhat mild miles on the Dicey Mill's Trail back to the country lanes. More than 100 years old, the trail is initially moderate down the side of the mountain and then follows an old road. The trail crosses the rushing Wonalancet River where the mill once stood and gently wanders down from there. Be sure to stop at the bridge crossing the brook where a sign details a mere eight-tenths of a mile remaining in the hike.

The final hundreds of yards are ideal, by an ancient stone wall, barn, daises and comfortable abodes where the sitting is easy in a little hamlet tucked away under the base of some stern Granite State mountains.