Mike Healy's Blog

If you have vibram soles on a pair of your shoes and you live on the east coast, you have heard about Mt. Monadnock. Located in Jaffrey NH the “mountain that stands alone” is said to be one of the most climbed mountains in the world, only second to Mt Fuji in Japan, which is now closed to hikers due to recent volcanic activity.

I’ve climbed Monadnock dozens of times over the years, heading up to the 3100-foot summit on every known trail and a few times made my own way uncharted. I can’t say I have a favorite ascent, as they are all so distinctly different, but due to the throngs of folks usually on the Jaffrey side, I’ll generally head over to the Dublin trail, or if I have the time I’ll hike up Jacobs ladder and the Pumpelly ridge line.

The mountain is home to me. The rock formations, the still water holes. I could almost hike it in pitch black I know it so well; every nook, every cranny.

 Each one of my kids, all seven of them, have hiked it with me most of them starting on my back when they were babies. I always shared with them over the years the landmarks on various trails, some of the history, some of what only a few it seems know about this amazing mountain.

“History and lore should be passed on from generation to generation.  It’s a crying shame,” I told them “that people don’t know more about what surrounds them.”

 When they were little I began.  There is bobcat rock on the ridge about half way up “very active even to this day” I warned. “Bobcats are always hungry and have munched on a few wimpy kid hikers over the years, leaving only scraps behind for the buzzards that would come all the way up from their bay on the ocean to finish their remains.”

Then there is Guppy pond on the way up the Dublin trail where it is said, “a giant guppy actually jumped out of the murky water and ate a kid that was lagging behind day dreaming. Swallowed the kid whole and then disappeared back into the murky water.”

 When they hit their early teens I told them about scrotum rock, also on the Dublin trail, “It’s a true story “ I assured them, “that a teenager who smoked too much cannabis was not paying attention as he slid down the rock and left much of his manhood on the west side of the mountain. He having been made a unic that day went on to pills and a crack pipe, which proves that at least in this case Mary Jane was a gateway drug.”

 It was only when they were a bit older that I told them the greatest story of them all.

 It was hot as hell and humid that day as we were nearing the ridgeline coming up Spellman.  I yelled for them to wait up as I gasped for breath and pointed to a hole in the mountain. “Look at that” I panted. “A perfectly shaped hole in the granite and there are more of them” I said as I pulled out the Gatorade. “Take a knee,” I said “and I’ll tell you about” I was catching by breath, wondering what to say next, i winged it….”about Miss Monadnockers.”

They obliged me.        

 “The year was 1941” I began “and the world was at war.” I sat down next to one of the holes in the granite and slowly unwrapped a power bar. “For the United States It was two wars fought on two fronts, both in Europe and in the South Pacific.  Our resources were strained to say the least. Times were tough.

 It’s not a well known fact but Dublin NH, due to its demographics,  was a target both for the Germans and for the Japanese.  Some very smart influential people are members of the lake club, if you don’t believe me just ask them,” I said as I pointed west at the lake and club in the distance. “The military could not protect them, there just was not enough resources to go around. They put up warning sirens to at least give everyone a bit of notice of what they said would be and inevitable air raid.

 People went to their beds in these troubled times not knowing if they would wake up the next day.

 Her name was Annie.

 She was a Jaffrican having been born and raised right off the dogleg, a direct descendent of Hawkeye, last of the Mohicans.  She was known for her beauty all around New England and well, most notably for the size of her chest”

 I had their attention.

 “So massive and pendulous were her dirigibles that rumor has it if she was in your line of site they could eclipse the sun.  Be warned too that anyone that would stare too long risked being hypnotized by their swinging motion. It was rumored that she had to put her bra on with a boomerang. Every man admired and wanted her. Every woman wanted to look like her.

 She was as they said a real “stunna”. Seeing her was once described as “udder joy”

 Annie, being Jaffrican was both fatherless and destitute and ended up a servant girl to the rich and famous of Dublin. In her spare time, what little of it there was, she would hike the ridgeline of Monadnock and it was here on this very trail, she sought solace and escaped her dismal life of servitude. It was on this very trail she dreamed of a better life”.

 I took off my left boot and dumped out a hitchhiker. I was catching my breath and they were listening,  I carried on.

 “It was late on a hot August day in 1942. Hot and humid as she climbed the ladder. A park ranger last saw her wearing just a tank top as she crossed over Bobcat rock and headed towards the summit.  Suddenly the air raid sirens went off. Everyone in Dublin froze as they looked to the sky. Their doom was inevitable.  It was only a few minutes until you could hear them, a dull whining sound that grew louder as a squadron of German fighter planes descended on the area.

Annie was standing right here when she saw them” I pointed to the hole in the granite.

 “It is at times like this when hero’s evolve”

I paused.

“What could she do to distract them?  She just a lowly servant girl. How could she throw them off course? The planes got into formation and were diving now settling in low approaching from the east of the mountain.” I pointed to their flight path.

“It was then, without hesitation Annie put herself in harms way”. I was on a roll now.

“She stripped of her shirt and yelled out, ‘hey guys get a load of these’ as she bounced her massive mammary glands and swung them back and forth. The pilots were spell bound and completely thrown off course. They lost control and were drawn in by her like a homing beacon. The rounds missed the lake club and hit here,” I said as I pointed to the holes in the granite. “Annie was killed instantly by shrapnel,  infact blown to bits” I said.

“she saved lives and died a hero as none of the planes hit their target most of them crashing into Dublin lake. One pilot was so frazzled he bugged out and headed toward Vermont never to be seen again”

 They were looking at me like I was an idiot.

 “Sure dad” they said.

 The Gatorade was gone. I was tightening up my boots, ready to head out refreshed.

“its true” I said, “Various Radio operators picked up the airwave traffic in German as the whole thing went down.”  ‘Heilige Scheiße ‘ were the last words of one aviator. Another screamed  “Mutter, Mutter” , and one poor bastard cried out ‘DU bist schoen, DU bist scher schoen’ as he plunged to his deep-water death.

 And that gentlemen is the true story about Miss Monadknockers as she became known.”

They were laughing now.

 “Come on dad ” said John, my youngest boy. “Lets go,  You don’t want to piss off that bobcat.”

 My how the tables had turned.