Mt. Washington

Miles: 8.4  Time: ~6:00  Elevation Gain: 4300
All photos of Mt. Washington

What better way to spend Independence Day weekend than on the top of Mt. Washington ... well really there is no better way to spend any day. This hike tops Franconia Ridge as my favorite hike, though I think I may have peaked early in New Hampshire (pun intended). Mt. Washington is the tallest peak in the Northeast at an elevation of 6288ft, about 400 ft lower than Mt. Mitchell, the highest peak East of the Mississippi. Though the hike up Mt. Washington climbs 700ft higher in fewer miles than Mt. Mitchell, making it a much more difficult trail. 

From Mt. Washington, 6288ft

There are many routes up Mt. Washington and I chose Tuckerman's Ravine, simply because it's the most popular so why the hell not. The trail head lies at the Pinkham Notch Visitor's Center near Gorham, about an hour and a half from Campton. It's not actually that far, but you have to drive up and around the mountains to get there.  Driving there was blast -- being so close to Canada (about 2 hours), many of the radio stations are French with eclectic musical tastes. On a single station, in succession I heard Paula Abdul, Marshall Tucker Band and a song from the 50's or 60's that I heard growing up but couldn't identify.

More from the top

I didn't arrive until 8:00 because of the long drive and the huge parking lot was already full. I knew it would be packed this weekend, but when climbing tall mountains you have to take the good weather when you get it, and today it was generous. The hiking traffic was not a problem, as the first half of the trail was wide and by the second half I had left the others behind. The initial two miles was over a rocky trail that climbed steadily at a moderate grade, enough to make you breathe hard but gentle enough to plough up at a good pace.

Tuckerman's Ravine

Half-way up the trail is a shelter with restrooms, picnic tables, first aid -- quite the accommodations. After this is where the real climbing begins. The trail emerges from the trees and offers a spectacular view of the ravine that you just climbed up next to. The rocky trail turns into rocks, and eventually steep, steep rocks, alongside a sheet of resistant snow and ice. I thought it was granite (this IS the granite state after all). The icing on the trail (yes another pun) was a nice little stream flowing downward over it, slicking up the rocks.

Come on now, that is granite (ice??)

Honestly, I was really scared climbing up this portion of the trail. It was very steep and very rocky and I am very off-balance (in more ways than one...). Falling meant literally falling down thousands of feet into the ravine below. Finally, the grade lessened just enough to provide a level of comfort, and just then a couple of hikers appeared behind, and then passed me like they were walking up the escalator at a mall.

This doesn't look so bad in pictures!

A half mile from the top is a junction of trails; a meeting of hikers for a final push to the top. Here is where I talked to the first hiker who told me the granite was ice. Life is a series of circles, and I find I am half-way around one now. When you are a child you believe everything you are told. When you become a teenager, you believe nothing you are told, and you know all. This continues into your twenties, when with any luck, a boss or teacher or parent or close friends slaps you across the head and reminds you that you are an ignorant fool and you should listen to your elders, and open your mind to the thoughts and beliefs of others, regardless of their race, religion or education. At some point you achieve some moderate success in your career, or are otherwise happy in your life choices, and you start to feel again like you must know all to have reached such a point of clarity and peace.

That's the top!

So, I thought the guy was an idiot. Even though he talked up the trails like he was born on one, I had read somewhere about the white granite in the rocks of the White Mountains, and in fact had seen the granite-covered rocks first hand. And it wasn't cold! Who was the fool now?

I'm there but they're not!

Well, me of course, for many reasons, but let's start with one.  This particular guy was with a group of other hikers who had come up a different trail (one I must do!) and they were milling around the junction, the men politely urging on the ladies to go first, even though we all knew they would pass them very soon and it was a moot point. Annoyed at the indecision, I went ahead of them and of course this man quickly passed me.

Who's the idiot now?

When climbing up a mountain of rocks, the trail is more of a suggestion. We can all see the top, and it doesn't matter which rocks you climb to get there. But of course the trail crew (in this case the Appalachian Mountain Club) marks a suggested trail to the top, one that is likely easier than others. To avoid congestion, the experienced hiker will climb an alternate route, one that might be easy for him but difficult for others. A less experienced hiker like myself might follow whoever is in front of her since she can't take her eyes off the rocks lest she fall backwards into a ravine. So I followed this person into a bunch of rocks that I had to navigate back from in order to avoid further danger (uggh!!).

I think I read the same sign on Mt. Mitchell in NC

Eventually I reached the top, a mass of tourists who arrived by car and trolley. The only thing I could think about was how scary the trip down would be, and several hikers (including the snow/ice guy) suggested the Lion's Head trail as an alternate to the bottom. I had read that this trail was steeper than Tuckerman's Ravine, and as such I concluded it would not be a safer trip down, but I chose to listen and I'm glad I did.

The REAL summit -- no I did not grow chest hair

 The trip down was actually a lot of fun, and not as scary or difficult as I thought it would be. Lion's Head was definitely a lot easier (at least on the return), and I met some very cool people along way. Half-way down I met up with a very interesting woman from Boston and we chatted all the way to the bottom.

The more sensible route down

It's not a bad day when you can hike the best trails, meet some great people, and then enjoy a beer in sunny, 80 degree weather in July. Though I wish my family and friends were here to enjoy it too.

On the return, maybe a mile or less from the top