I’ve heard a lot over the years about 912 foot Hewe’s Hill in Swanzey New Hampshire and about the 40 ton glacial erratic boulder that sits atop it, so recently I decided to finally climb up and see it for myself. It’s called Tippin Rock because according to legend “with a shove of your shoulder under the right spot” you can make 40 tons of granite rock gently, like a baby’s cradle.
The trail starts out as little more than a game trail, single file narrow, until it widens just a little as the above photo shows. Even though it’s a little wider here than where it started it’s still one person wide. Tall tree seedlings crowd in on both sides, obscuring any view into the forest.
Finally it widens out to road width and steepens, and you can see deep into the forest ahead and on both sides. When bears are fattening up for hibernation I feel a lot more comfortable on a trail like this than I do on a close, winding trail where you can only see a few feet directly in front of you. There is less chance of being surprised.
I found some violet toothed polypore (Trichaptum biformis) growing on a log. I don’t see these very often so I wasn’t thinking about getting a shot of the undersides, which are toothed. I like their purple edges.
I also saw coral mushrooms (Ramariopsis kunzei) as white as the snow that will soon cover them. I always wonder how something that has just come up out of the ground can be so clean. Coral fungi get their name from the corals that grow under the sea.
Before too long the canopy thins and sunlight gets through, and you know that you’re near the top.
The sign proves it. I had to laugh at the way it stated (and pointed to) the obvious.
So this is Tippin Rock? It’s only as big as a delivery van, so I wouldn’t have guessed. It’s a good thing the sign was there!
A glacial erratic is defined as “a piece of rock that differs from the size and type of rock native to the area in which it rests.” You have to wonder where this one came from.
Of course I immediately (before anyone could see) “got my shoulder under” every likely spot on the 40 ton behemoth and shoved and grunted and sweated and swore, but I couldn’t get it to move. I crawled under it to see what made it tick and found that, as the photo shows, it has a keel much like a boat. Who would have ever guessed that a glacier could set a 40 ton boulder down on a sheet of granite on a mountain top, in exactly the right position so it would rock back and forth? At least, it rocks for people who know the secret. I thought about finding a log and prying it, but then decided that doing so would be cheating. It would be hard to claim that I had tipped Tippin Rock knowing that I had cheated.
Did this lady tip it, I wonder? Actually, maybe I’m better off not knowing. I found this photo on line and what I find most interesting about it is how the visible side of the boulder is covered with rock tripe lichens. Rock tripe is a lichen that loves to grow on very large boulders and it can often be found on mountain and hill tops. It’s similar to toadskin lichen which we will see a little later. The lady’s outfit and the fact that the first really affordable camera-the Kodak Brownie-came out some time around 1900, means that it’s very safe to assume that a hundred years ago there were lichens on this rock face.
So where did all the lichens go? This is the same face of the boulder shown in the previous circa 1900 photo, and it’s as clean as if it had been scrubbed. Did the trees grow and shade them out? Did they all die and just fall off? Did the weather wash them away? Tests have shown that lichens are tough enough to survive even the vacuum of space and tenacious enough to etch glass for a foothold, so how and why they disappeared from this rock face is a real mystery.
I leaned my monopod against it to give you an idea of how big this stone really is. Fully extended the monopod is about 6 feet long. I’m guesstimating the boulder is about 9-10 feet high, 18-20 feet long and 8-9 feet wide.
After you’ve worn yourself out trying to tip Tippin Rock you can follow a small side trail that leads to a lookout, and these cliffs are one of the things you pass on the way. Though it doesn’t look it in the photo it must have been 30 feet or more to the top. I wasn’t able to back away from them for a better angle because there was another even longer drop behind me which it wouldn’t have been good to test. People come up here to rock climb, and I can see why.
Toadskin lichen (Lasallia papulosa) decorated several boulders and I was happy to see it. This makes two places that I’ve found it now. Both take quite a climb to get to, so I wonder if altitude plays a part in where it will grow. It had just rained the night before so these examples were plump, pliable, and pea green. The black parts are their fruiting bodies (Apothecia) and these lichens were fruiting heavily.
The views from up here look south toward Massachusetts and are some of the best I’ve seen. This is a place that makes you feel small and that’s a good feeling to have every now and then. Sometimes feeling small reminds us just how big the universe is.
This beautiful view, taken as I had my back against the boulder that the toadskin lichens grew on, is my favorite. Every time I look out over such vast expanses of unbroken forest I realize that I’m seeing fairly close to what the early settlers would have seen. I wonder what they thought when they climbed a hill and found something like this before them. How daunting it must have been to know that you had to carve a homestead out of that wilderness with a single axe-your most valuable possession. I can’t help but wonder what I would have done. Would I have had the strength and courage to go on or would I have turned around and gone back to where I came from? Still more questions which (thankfully) I’ll never find the answers to.
A man does not climb a mountain without bringing some of it away with him and leaving something of himself upon it. ~Martin Conway.
Thanks for coming by.
the things and places you get up to!! And I’m glad you tried to tip the rock – at least you can say you tried.
I’m figuring no-one’s ever tipped this rock. But there’s a hidden camera somewhere watching all you crazy humans try…..
Thank you Cynthia. I’ve heard from someone who was there to see the rock tip, so I believe it. He said there were a bunch of kids on top of it and they all moved to one end and it tipped.
OK, then….
A most enjoyable hike with you. I am so glad that I don’t need to worry about bears on my hikes. A few years ago when we were on holiday in Brittany, France we visited the Parc Armorique in Finisterre. Near the village of Huelgoat which means ‘high wood’ in Breton is the Roche Tremblante which can be rocked if pushed at the right place. We saw it being done and it was really fascinating. The terrain was similar to your hike but fortunately no bears there either. The two fungus shots are beautiful.
Thank you Clare. We have the chance of meeting up with a bear at just about any time, but more so in the spring and fall. As long as you pay attention to your surroundings you’re usually okay.
I’d like to see this rock tip like the one you saw. A man emailed me and said that he saw it done once, so I’m hopeful!
Beautiful pictures Allen, love the rock and enjoyed seeing the old photo too! I have been playing catch up after being out of town to Dallas since Sunday. Had over 300 emails, wew!
Thanks Michael. I’m glad that I don’t have that many emails to read!
I really don’t like the sound of an eratic boulder. In my opinion all boulders should be dependable.
You should probably stay out of the New Hampshire woods then-they’re full of them.
Thanks for the old photo. Otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to know the actual size of the rock. It seems you had the place to yourself? Always good (unless one falls and sprains one’ ankles 🙂 ).
You’re welcome Ben. Yes, I had the whole hill to myself. You’re right about falling. I did that about 5 times last year but I must have learned something because I’ve only done it once this year. (so far)
I once went walking alone in the foothills of the Himalayas and suddenly realised that if I simply fell and injured one of my ankles/legs (it was pretty uneven terrain) I would probably not be discovered before I expired. A sobering thought.
Yes and it can happen right here in the woods of New Hampshire too, so I try to keep my wits about me.
What an enjoyable climb. I think I’d be a bit scars to try to tip the rock in case I tipped it too much and it began to roll away. Imagine having to explain that away. I wonder what happened to the lichens?
Thanks. I had to laugh at the thought of that boulder rolling away but if it happened for real I’d be doing something other than laughing. I’d be the town pariah!
I got an email from someone who said the lichens were there just 3 years ago, so it’s very strange.
I does look like such a wonderful hike…Love the trail photos.
Thank you Charlie. It was a great hike. I want to do it again when the leaves change.
Reblogged this on Dawn of Divine Rays.
Thank you Agnes.
You’re very welcome, Allen. Namaste
I can’t get over that beautiful, lush forest!
It’s beautiful from up above, especially. And we have 4.8 million acres of it!
This is one of your best posts, Allen. I love the shots of how the trail widens but gives you a good challenge first. I can only imagine doing this on horseback as I am not a hiker. I may miss some of the more subtle shots, being above the ground by an extra few feet.
I have watched lichens disappear from rock faces on my regular trails. I thought it was normal but now you have me thinking…
I hope your post “smokes out” someone who can claim to have tipped the rock.
Thanks Martha. I think a horse could have made it all the way to the lookout point, but it might have gotten a little scary near the cliffs.
Interesting (and a little disturbing) that you’ve noticed lichens disappearing. The only thing I know of that might harm lichens is polluted air, but I can’t imagine the air on that mountain of yours being very polluted.
Coincidentally I just got an email from a man who was at a conservation easement ceremony at Tippin Rock 3 years ago and he says some kids climbed up on it and got it rocking. He also says it was covered with lichens just like the old photo shows-but it was only 3 years ago. That’s amazing.
Your tree covered hills are such a contrast to our bare hills that I wonder what I would think if I saw them in reality.
I wonder the same thing about your bare hills and wide open views. It would be very refreshing to be out of the forest for a change, I think. It’s different when you get above the forest, but when you’re in one it’s very close and can be quite dark at times.
I think, without seeing both, that I am definitely a bare hills man.
It sure would be hard to stay home living where you live. I “enjoyed” the hike. The toadskin lichen really held my attention. It’s so different from anything I’ve seen.
Thank you. I don’t spend too much time at home myself! I’ve never seen toadskin lichen when it wasn’t on a hilltop. I’m not sure why but it seems like altitude plays some kind of part in where it will grow.
interesting
As always it is a delight to read your blog and the quotation you used this time is a winner.
Thank you Susan. I thought that quote was very true. I hope you’re enjoying Greece!
I don’t like to disillusion you but I reckon the “tipping rock” story was invented by an early tourist office. But it is a nice rock and a great walk. Amelia
Thanks Amelia. You could be right but since the rock and the trail leading to it are on private land, I tend to think it’s a true story. It’s well known in the area that the people who own the land don’t want a lot of people up there, and that’s why I didn’t give directions to it. That’s also the reason that I haven’t gone up there before now. I hope this post doesn’t increase the traffic.
I’m such a doubting Thomas but I suppose it could always be pivoting on a rock beneath it that we cannot see.
There’s a natural, huge slab of granite beneath it and it doesn’t really pivot, as in spinning. From what I’ve heard it’s a gentle swaying back and forth. I know someone who knows every hill in this area and if I can find him I’ll ask him to go up there with me and show me how it’s done.
The views were spectacular, they make me wish that I didn’t live in the flatlands!
Could it be that the lichens had depleted whatever minerals that the needed from the face of the rock? More likely, it is that they have been worn off as some one else suggested.
People were much tougher back in the good old days. Chopping down the trees to clear an area for farming was just the start and the easy part, removing the stumps was when the real work began. Me, I would have been too lazy, I would have been a hunter, not a farmer. 😉
Oh, and maybe the rock won’t rock any longer because so many people have done it in the past that there has been enough wear that the boulder has “nested” on the granite face it sits on.
Thanks Jerry. I wish you had some hills in Michigan to climb. I think you’d love it up there. It’s possible that the lichens depleted all their nutrients. Nobody really seems to know exactly how long they live but some suspect that they might actually live virtually forever. That’s a hard thought to wrap your mind around!
I just read a book that I think you’d probably enjoy as much as I did called “Diary of an Early American Boy” by Eric Sloane. It’s based on an actual diary written by 15 year old Noah Blake in 1805, and it’s a fascinating look at what life was really like back then. Life wasn’t easy, I’ll say that!
That’s a good point about the boulder wearing down the granite that it sits on. I hadn’t thought of that but it makes a lot of sense. If the rock has stopped rocking I would think that would be why.
I got up to Tippin rock for the first time this year—twice. The first time with a couple friends (on the cc list), we went in from Rabbit Hollow Rd to explore that hill, but didn’t know about the view, trail, and boulder until we stumbled across it. We also tried tippin’ the rock, but couldn’t. I did discover a boulder I could tip nearby. A much smaller rock, but big enough that it would be impossible if it wasn’t balanced well. I think if you turned your back to Tippin’ Rock at the spot that old photo was taken, and walked a couple hundred feet into the woods (west?), you would be near it. I like the toadskin lichen. I’ll keep my eyes out for more of that. -Al Stoops Nelson NH
On Wed, Sep 24, 2014 at 4:11 AM, New Hampshire Garden Solutions wrote:
> New Hampshire Garden Solutions posted: ” I’ve heard a lot over the > years about 912 foot Hewe’s Hill in Swanzey New Hampshire and about the 40 > ton glacial erratic boulder that sits atop it, so recently I decided to > finally climb up and see it for myself. It’s called Tippin Rock because > accord”
I didn’t know you could get up there by way of Rabbit Hollow. I’ll have to see if I can find that trail someday. Thanks for letting me know that you couldn’t tip that rock either! Now I’m wondering if it is just a joke like Jim thought in his comment. Interesting that you found another one that would tip-I’ll have to look for it next time I’m up there. The odds against that happening must be astronomical! The toadskin lichens can be found on several boulders along the trail from Tippin Rock to the lookout. When they’re dry they turn an ashy gray color.
Great post! Love the fungus & lichens shots!
Thank you!
Coral mushrooms are one of the most beautiful things in the north woods. Haven’t seen them in central Ohio.
I agree. You do have coral fungi in Ohio. I once saw a photo of what I thought was the most beautiful deep purple coral I’d ever seen and it was found in Ohio. I’d love to find one like it!
Your pictures are so gorgeous, thanks for sharing your hike!
You’re welcome, and thank you!
There’s always the possibility that the name is a joke and that the rock can’t be tipped at all. Those in the know would have great fun thinking about all the people straining to move forty tons!
I thought of that too Jim, but I think it can be moved. If it was a joke it would be a very old one-at least 150 years. The only way to ever find out for sure would be to climb up there with someone who has moved it, but I don’t know anyone who has. I’m hoping that this post will bring them out of the woods, so to speak, and that they’ll be willing to show me how it’s done.
I’m always amazed by the hiking attire. My parents have pictures of a youth group climb up Monadnock in the early 50’s and the girls are in skirts and saddle shoes! What a neat spot and amazing rock and views.
Thank you Jocelyn. I was surprised that the lady in the photo made it up there in that dress! I can see it getting tangled on every stump and branch all of the way to the top.
People still try climbing Monadnock without proper hiking attire, and I read about them having to be rescued quite regularly. Now that the leaves are turning we’ll be hearing a lot more of that.
I enjoyed going along on the hike with you, Allen, and I’m not even out of breath. The views in your last couple of photos are simply amazing. Living in suburban Washington DC, it’s hard for me to look out and get a view of what early settlers might have seen.
Thanks Mike. I was out of breath a couple of times on this climb, but it’s always worth it. I hope you’ll get a chance to sit on a mountaintop one day. It’s an experience that you really can’t compare with any other.
What a great hike. It sure is a good thing the sign pointed out the rock, you might have missed it. I can just imagine a family hike and the youngsters trying to tip the rock and the laughter that must ensue. Perhaps the lichens were worn away from so many people trying to climb on top of the rock over the years. Easy to see how toadskin lichen gets it’s name.
You could be right Laura. I’ve seen a few photos, both new and old, of people sitting on top of the rock and shoe soles would be abrasive enough to wear away lichens.