Steve Fagin: Ragged Mountain rewards hikers, rock-climbers

Sep. 5—After scrambling up a precipitous overlook the other day, Phil Plouffe clutched an overhanging branch, tiptoed to the edge, and peered straight down.

"Wow!" he exclaimed.

This hundred-plus-foot vertical drop, along with other sheer walls, have for nearly a century attracted rock climbers to Ragged Mountain, which straddles the central Connecticut towns of Berlin and Southington.

Some mountaineers who trained here have gone on to scale the world's tallest peaks; others have had less-successful experiences, as indicated by a heap of stones near the 761-foot summit that serves as a memorial for one ill-fated adventurer.

Phil, Maggie Jones, Andy Lynn, Marco Barres and I had no plans to inch our way up or down any of Ragged Mountain's 90-odd rock-climbing routes. We kept our feet firmly on the ground while hiking more than six miles of well-marked paths overlooking rolling woodland and picturesque lakes, without significantly risking life or limb.

That's not saying you couldn't slip and fall off a ledge at Ragged Mountain — but you're less likely to do so while hiking, rather than while clinging to a rope.

We set out on the blue-red Ragged Mountain Preserve Trail, a wide, tree-lined corridor covered with chunks of traprock, or basalt, an extrusive volcanic rock that formed the Metacomet Ridge some 200 million years ago. Some of the state's most spectacular views are visible from this ridge, often called "the spine of Connecticut."

A raven's guttural squawk clashed with the cheery-cheery-cheery call of a Carolina wren, as we clambered up a steady incline to reach a vista overlooking Hart Ponds, named for a prominent local family that owned much of the land that is now 550-acre Ragged Mountain Memorial Preserve. Stanley Hart donated his property to The Nature Conservancy in 1989; the preserve is managed cooperatively by the town of Berlin, Berlin Land Trust, Ragged Mountain Foundation, and Connecticut Forest & Park Association.

The trail's steepness increased steadily until we reached Ragged Mountain's south promontory at 1.7 miles, where it leveled off to a plateau graced by pitch pines, red cedar and nice, flat rocks on which to take a short break.

Maggie had already feasted on succulent partridge berries growing along the trail. "I've never seen so many!" she said. Andy also made a beeline for what appeared to be an enormous chicken of the woods mushroom growing at the base of an oak tree.

"Can I eat this?" he asked Maggie.

"Don't!" she cried, warning that the fungus wasn't edible chicken of the woods, but a poisonous plant known as jack-o-lantern mushroom. The two are easily mistaken, which is one reason to avoid eating wild mushrooms unless you can ask someone like Maggie for advice.

Chicken of the woods has tiny pores on its underside, while jack-o-lantern mushrooms not only are marked by gills, but also glow in the dark, she explained. Later on the trail, we came upon a monstrous clump of the edible chicken of the woods, and stopped to stuff clumps into our day packs. The mushroom is delicious when sauteed with onions and peppers, and served over rice.

This summer's wet weather not only has made it a banner season for mushrooms, but also kept vernal ponds — normally dried up as fall approaches — brimming, Maggie noted. When this happens, peeper frogs sometimes get confused and start cheeping: "Is it still spring?"

In addition, many deciduous trees, including oaks, hickories, maples and birches, have retained their verdant vibrancy this month, accentuated by more sharply angled sunlight. Soon enough, diminished light and cooler temperatures will trigger colorful, autumnal splendor — but hey, let's not rush Mother Nature. There's still some summer left.

Less than two miles from our starting point, we veered from the Ragged Mountain Preserve Trail onto the blue-blazed Metacomet Trail, which is part of the 235-mile New England National Scenic Trail that runs from Long Island Sound in Guilford to the Massachusetts-New Hampshire border.

More steep climbs brought us to Ragged Mountain's 761-foot northern peak, with panoramic views of Wassel Reservoir and 1,024-foot West Peak, the highest of Meriden's Hanging Hills.

From here, we followed the Metacomet Trail's gradual descent until reconnecting with blue-red Ragged Mountain Preserve Trail. After one more tough, uphill scramble, we returned to our car.

The perfect hike — "one of the top 10," Phil said.

A map of Ragged Mountain's trails is available at berlinct.gov/egov/documents/270bfb06_dca1_4918_3a1b_ada3b9d356fb.pdf.

More information about climbing routes is available at raggedmtn.org.