Lost River Gorge fills you with childlike excitement

By Clare Innes, Globe Correspondent, 05/04/2003

		Paradise Falls greets visitors shortly after they enter Lost River Gorge. (Photo courtesy of the White Mountains Attractions Association)  More on New England  More on New Hampshire  That's called a "cow," children  Serenity at 2,000 feet over NH
		Printable version How to get there From Boston, follow Interstate 93 north toward the White Mountains. In New Hampshire, take exit 32 toward North Woodstock/Lincoln, turn right, and follow Route 112 for about 6 miles. Lost River Gorge and Boulder Caves is on your right. What to do Lost River Gorge and Boulder Caves Route 112 West, North Woodstock 603-745-8031 www.findlostriver.com Opens May 10. Hours: May, June, September, October: 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., July and August: 9 to 6. Admission: adults, $8.50; children ages 4-12, $5.50; children 3 and under, free with adult. Last tickets sold one hour before closing. Bring bug repellent, sunscreen, sunglasses, camera (make sure the glasses and camera are tethered, as many are lost to the river every year), water, and snacks. Wear comfortable, rugged clothing and footwear you will feel comfortable scrambling around in. Flats and sandals discouraged. Outback Kayak Main Street, North Woodstock 603-745-5099; www.outbackyayak.com E-mail: info@outbackkayak.com Outback Adventure Center offers kayak trips down the Pemigewasset, llama trekking, ATV rentals, climbing wall, ropes course, and more. Where to stay The Wilderness Inn Route 3, North Woodstock 800-200-9453 www.thewildernessinn.com E-mail: info@thewildernessinn.com Cozy rooms (some overlooking Lost River) and gourmet breakfast (11 flavors of pancakes and homemade syrups, crepes, French toast, and omelets). A block south of North Woodstock at the intersection of Routes 112 and 3. Rooms: $95-$155. Where to eat The Woodstock Station Woodstock Inn Route 3, North Woodstock 800-321-3985 www.woodstockinnnh.com A roster of ales brewed on the premises (including the root beer) complement an inventive, five-page menu that will make you want to try a bite of everything. Get dessert to go and enjoy it on the banks of the Pemigewasset in the small community park across the street (at the intersection of Kancamagus Highway).

NORTH WOODSTOCK, N.H. — Lush ferns and mosses spill out of every joint in the walls of the 300-foot-deep Lost River Gorge. The river itself spills over an endless series of drops.

Hundreds of caves and tunnels were bulldozed into the gorge about 30,000 years ago by a mile-high glacier that covered much of North America. As the wall of ice melted, floods bearing immense boulders hurtled through conduits such as Lost River Gorge, leaving behind super-sized playgrounds of rubble.

A boardwalk built along the lines of a fantasy treehouse winds through a portion of the gorge, guiding visitors from boulder to ledge to bank to precipice and seemingly up into the trees. Some sections span waterfalls and potholes; others lead to passageways lighted by candle lanterns.

Lost River Gorge and Boulder Caves, the full name of the area, is the kind of place that makes you feel small and excited. The kid in you darts forward, eager to explore the Cave of Odin and Thor's Workshop, and then on to the other caves and passages in the park.

The boardwalk follows the erratic contours of the gorge, flowing into, out of, and around obstacles. You can choose to crawl through the caves or take the more gentle, scenic route around them. Stairways to nowhere may end at a lookout or a pothole where the water swirls ever so slowly, subtly hinting at the amount of grit, force, and time it took to scour a perfectly round bowl out of solid rock. Farther upstream, the 28-foot-diameter Giant Pothole is the largest granite pothole on record.

All along the boardwalk, benches and lookouts create their own eddies, where you can't help but linger in wonder.

The spectacular 35-foot Paradise Falls is such a place. By themselves, the falls are enthralling. But then you begin to notice the shape of the rock over and around the falls, and the basin into which they spill. The Lost River once boiled through that space with a monstrous ferocity, boring its channel through solid rock and polishing it smooth over eons.

Most of the park's caves require a simple duckwalk and a bit of scrambling to negotiate. At the entrance to the infamous Lemon Squeezer, however, a wooden gate with an opening measuring 18-by-30 inches bars the cave to all but those who can wedge, wiggle, or pull themselves through.

The qualifying gate is there for a reason: In this narrow, twisty cave, turning around or backing out is simply not an option. The key to making it through the gate is to leave your dignity behind.

Once you drop into the cave, the ceiling closes in and you inch along on your belly in cool, dank, near-darkness. The river slides under the boardwalk inches below your fingertips. The flicker of candle lanterns evokes images of pirate caves and hidden treasure.

The swirl of subterranean sensations crowds out claustrophobia. As darkness robs you of vision, it heightens other senses, and your whole body translates where you are in that tight, dim space. The crushing potential of tons of rock overhead inspires an awe that has more to do with wonder than fear.

Farther down the trail, inside a cave called the Judgment Hall of Pluto, a waterfall recessed beyond view registers its 20-foot plunge as an impressive reverberation.

Royal and Lyman Jackman discovered Lost River Gorge in 1852 as they threaded their way around the huge boulders in search of a prime fishing hole. At one point, Lyman slipped into a crevasse and landed 15 feet below, waist-deep in water, discovering what is now known as Shadow Cave.

Over the next few years, more discoveries led to more visitors.

A Canadian logger known only as Mr. Cox set up a log shack in about 1905, selling canned meat of questionable origin and foul-tasting sodas, according to journals from the Pemigewasset Boys' Camp.

In 1911, the Rollins shelter was built as a rest and lunchroom. Route 112 was just a rough mountain track back then, and visitors had to hike four miles up the mountain to get there. The shelter, with its huge, stone fireplace, now serves as the gift shop, where you can see pictures of people in the early 1900s — including women in heavy dresses — clambering around on the boulders.

In 1912, the Society for the Protection of New Hampshire Forests bought the 148 acres that now make up the park. The group was originally formed to protect the White Mountains from the heavy clear-cutting that was devastating much of the area. Its focus is now statewide, with more than a million acres under its protection.

The early walkways and ladders easily succumbed to storms and the intensity of spring runoff. These days, boardwalks are anchored securely in place and designed to withstand their annual immersion by spring floodwaters. The last time they had to close the park for storm damage was in 1985 after Hurricane Gloria washed out 90 percent of the structure, which required 13 days for reconstruction. Six years later, Hurricane Bob wrought nowhere near the same damage.

From the visitors center, the boardwalk threads steadily downhill through a forest.

Red and rock maples tower overhead alongside paper birches, balsam fir, and big-toothed aspen. Black bears share these woods and streams with porcupines, moose, beavers, salamanders, and a fluttering of more than 70 species of birds.

The first signs of the glacier's passage are the giant "erratics," boulders dropped off in the middle of the woods. In size, they range anywhere from a refrigerator to a small house. In adornment, they're wrapped around and around with bulging tree roots.

As seeds, these rock-bound trees may have landed in a debris-filled crevice or a bed of moss on the boulder, where nutrients and water sustained their growth. As the trees grew, they forced their roots deeply into flaws in the rock — sometimes splitting them in the process — or they probed around the outside of the rock until they sank at last into the earth itself.

In places where the ground seems paved in stone, roots play out over solid rock, snaking into crevices, finding sustenance and anchorage.

Guides maintain a constant presence along the route to assist visitors and answer questions.

It took a guide named Bill little prompting to rattle off his favorite questions from visitors: What time do you turn the water off? What do you do with the rocks in the winter? How long did it take to build Paradise Falls? Why did you build the caves so small?

"A lot of people are coming into the woods from the city for the first time here," he says. "They don't understand at first that this is all naturally formed. For them, a tree isn't just a tree, or a rock just a rock. It's a whole new experience."

And the answer to the most-asked question of all: Has anyone ever gotten stuck?

"Only mentally," Bill replies with a twinkle.

Clare Innes is a freelance writer who lives in Belmont.