A Summer Traverse of the Presidential Mountains of NH

This past March two comrades and I ventured into the White Mountains of New Hampshire to traverse the Presidential range. We encountered buried trails, avalanche ready slopes and snoring hut-mates. This past weekend I returned to the Whites to see what they were all about when there wasn't 100 inches of snow on the ground. This is our story.

Early Sunday morning I took a look at the forecast from the Mount Washington Observatory. Wind, rain, fog: the usual, except of course when Mount Washington has wind, it has WIND! Also, I'm going to put it out there that I'm a wimp when it comes to hiking in rain. The threat of rain deflates my excitement about hiking PDQ. I was encouraged that we would only have to deal with rain on the first morning and then things would clear up, plus my search and rescue background has made me proud to be able to function in any conditions and I haven't been hiking in a while. The drive in was encouraging, while it did rain, it was nothing worse than passing summer showers and holes in the clouds (sucker holes) abounded.

Our first learning moment came at the parking lot. I had run up trail a little way to "dehydrate", without telling the crew. From their perspective all they had seen was me running, pack on, down the trail. It seemed that I was off to an enthusiastic start. So they took off after imaginary-me. By the time I was zipped back up they were long gone, and I found myself staring at a split in the trail and having little idea which way they had gone. One of the better strategies to reconnect with a group when you've lost them and cannot just give them a call is to stay put. Sooner or later they will realize that they have lost you and should return to where they last knew where you were. This was my strategy. I sat down (a great start to a hike let me tell you) and waited. And waited. And they didn't come back. Turns out that they have a great respect for my athletic abilities and imaginary-me was hauling ass ahead of them the entire time. Realizing that they weren't going to be coming back before we would begin losing light I decided to press on alone.

I hiked up to Valley Tent Site. On the way up I was surprised to see how eroded the trail was. The Whites' Presidential range, having some of the burliest weather, grand sweeping views, and being home to the highest point in the state, gets a lot of traffic. Hundreds of people are running about on their trails every day, and their impact can be incredible even in places where the environment is relatively robust. In places I was having to step through a foot of exposed roots to reach dirt. This damage to the trails wasn't the result of any special abuse on the part of the public and I can only imagine the effort that goes into maintaining the huts and the network of trails, but it does serve to highlight the fragile nature of high traffic areas. Tread lightly.

So real-me finally caught up to where imaginary-me was supposed to be at the campsite. Seeing no one, I made the executive decision to take a nap, and then resolved to turn back the next morning if I didn't encounter anyone over night. I woke from my nap to learn that the crew had been over Madison in high winds, and that Justin's desire to take video in high wind was not well received by Lew. We began the next day truly together and pushed back up trail to Madison Hut to use the flushies and refill water. On our way up we were treated to the current forecast by a number of hikers abandoning the ridge: winds 50-60 miles an hour and fog. Not exactly the sun that we had been led to expect but we weren't about to turn around without seeing that the situation was untenable ourselves. Heading up from Madison hut I was treated to my first high winds. My jacket was whipping around me, the load lifers on my pack were snapping at my face and my trekking poles had just been blown to the top of the ten essentials list. In light of the lack of visibility and the winds, oh and the wet rocks, we elected to hike around Adams and try our luck on other Presi's later. I was surprised to see the number of parents with young children who pressed on. I don't know if the going was easier on the children because their smaller profiles didn't catch the wind in the same way that I did, but I've got to give those kids props for pressing on.

Jefferson was fascinating to see without the snow, and while it was steep it wasn't nearly the death-defying path that it had been in March.

Once over Jefferson we could see the true challenge of any trip to the Whites: Mount Washington. With the winds that we had been experiencing all day we knew that Washington was going to be something special and it was. For one thing, even those of us who were following the ridgeline to Washington still had a great deal of ascending to do to reach the summit. As we got within a half mile of the summit the winds really began to pummel us. 60 mile an hour winds are strong, and the 70+ gusts that we were getting made moving over broken terrain a very thoughtful and slow process. When I think of winds I think of snapping flags or gentle breezes. Wind on Mount Washington is something different. Wind on Mount Washington is a force, an imperative that must be struggled against. Justin in his pursuit to document our trip had us approach the pile of rocks at the summit for a picture. As I tried to get into the picture I took my only spill of the trip and was almost blown off of the summit pile. Jackie managed to save me by grabbing my leg as I began to fall over. Mount Washington is also different from any other highest point that I've ever reached in that it has a visitor's center. The home of the worst recorded weather is reachable by both cog train and by car. It is a curious feeling to stumble into that robust, yet artificial, calm and know that most of the people around you have not met the challenges that you have overcome to stand in line for a hotdog. After Mount Washington I was afflicted by hiccups that lasted right up until we got to our stop for the day at Lakes in the Clouds hut.

From the point of view of someone who has only known three walled shelters Lakes in the Clouds is a creature of a different sort. Lakes has multiple rooms, generates its own electricity, has running (if frigid) water, and a staffed kitchen. There are also blankets (be sure to fold yours properly), pillows and mattresses, a small gift shop, library and two multi-stall bathrooms. Lakes isn't free but it is worth it for a relaxing night after some mountain walking. Sometime during the night the winds died down and, after a breakfast which included homemade cinnamon rolls, we ventured forth into the fresh air by the time that we had crested Monroe the fog had started to burn off.

With the wind died down and the sun out this was a different set of mountains: unlimited views and a clear way forward greeted us on our way out of the Whites. After trudging through trails turned streams on our descent we met reached the cars and set off to collect our other vehicle and to head for Berlin to the Mill Yard for some fried. Mmmm, fried.