It’s August 31 and I’m at mile 1902.7, just 4.7 miles from Maine! I’m writing to you from the comfort of my tent, listening to the wind howling through the trees all around me. The moon is gently illuminating my tent and I’m enjoying my favorite evening past time, eating candy; which should definitely been stowed away in the bear box right now, not my lap. I’ve been in New Hampshire for about two weeks, making my way through the White Mountains. This entire journey has been incredible, but the Whites have been amazing.
Since day one, hikers have been talking about the Whites. Most of the talk has been about how difficult they are and how slow everyone hikes through them. I’d done my research and this seemed pretty constant across all sources. After all of the fear mongering talk, were the conversations about how beautiful they are. I was excited and a little nervous to finally be heading into them. The day was here; I was going to climb the first of many mountains of the Whites, Mt. Moosilauke.
I woke to the sound of rain on my tent. I had expected the rain because a couple hikers told me the week’s forecast the evening before over a Ramen dinner and the forecast was not a welcoming one. After finally getting myself motivated to go out into the chilly rain, I was on my way! The rain was mostly a light mist during much of the morning, which wasn’t so bad. After a few miles into the hike I came to a small clearing that allowed for a view of the mountains to come. I took a moment to look out and between pockets of clouds I had a beautiful view of the peaks through the fog. They looked big, but not as intimidating as the elevation line in my AWOL guide. I felt slightly relieved seeing them. The clouds continued to blow by quickly, uncovering another peak, a larger peak that had been hidden in the fog. Woah. Now THAT was a mountain. It was huge, making all the other mountains in sight look like small hills. Surely I’d be climbing it and it looked daunting. More clouds soon blew in and my view was quickly gone again. I moved on up the trail to stay warm.
I was about halfway up Mt. Moosilauke. The trail was absolutely beautiful. The forest was full of bright green moss and orange pine needles. All the trees dripped water from their green needles and the sound of thousands of rain drops filled the forest around me. Visibility was low due to the fog, giving the trail a mystical and enchanting appearance. The climb was about four miles and the path was rocky and muddy. Several hikers came down from time to time and each told me how windy and cold the summit was. I was as prepared as I could be. Hiking up the mountain was keeping me warm despite that everything I had on was soaking wet. The rain jacket was only serving to keep my body heat trapped in at this point. As I continued up, I peeked out through the trees away from the mountain to see only white. Having any sort of a view was looking pretty bleak. But I hiked on.
After two hours of ascending steeply in the rain over pointy, slippery rocks and mud, the ground leveled out and the trees opened up. “The summit!” I foolishly thought. I approached the sign to find that I had another 0.8 miles to go. It was slow moving up such a long ascent, extremely slow. But the trees were so beautiful- everything was beautiful. The rain finally stopped and I pulled the hood down off my head. I walked quickly along the trail keeping the time in mind. I wanted to be sure to make it to the shelter before dark due to the tough terrain and cold weather. As I walked on I noticed a brightness in the sky and looked up to see patches of blue! The sky on the west side of the trail was clearing! I could see mountains off in the distance! I continued up the trail and the sky continued to brighten. Excitement took over as more and more of the earth became exposed around me. It was absolutely gorgeous! I could see for miles and miles. I had never seen anything so beautiful. When I finally reached the summit, the sun was shining! I stood there in awe as the wind blew hard against me. I had a 360* view of the mountains. It’s moments like these on the trail when there’s not another place in the world I’d rather be. I feel so incredibly grateful for these experiences.
I woke my second day in the Whites to a beautiful view from my tent of the mountains at sunrise. I stayed at Beaver Brook Shelter, which was 2.3 miles from the summit. I was excited to get hiking after the awesome day I just had. I couldn’t wait to see what was ahead. I began descending Mt. Moosilauke next to a cascading waterfall. It was an amazing and intense descent as it was gorgeous, yet very steep and very wet. It was a lot steeper than the ascent and the rocks were large rock slabs now. I moved slowly, being as careful as possible not to slip and tumble down the rocky mountain. I held on to every tree I could, every root that was strong enough, and every crack in the sloping rock faces that was big enough. Finally, after a long time, I made it safely to the bottom and right away the next climb awaited. I began hiking up and up and up. Eventually hunger began to take over and I found a sunny spot to sit and eat. I checked the time and thought I must have gone about 5 miles by now. I pulled out my AWOL guide to check. To my utter amazement, I’d only gone about 2.5 miles! What?! This couldn’t be right, I thought. But it was. It was going to be a long day. Before long, the climb got steeper and steeper. The rocks became rock walls! And I had to climb them…with my giant pack. My heart jumped to my throat. This was beyond dangerous, by far the most challenging climb I’d ever done in my life- and there was not another soul around. But up I went, holding on to cracks in the rock faces, trees, branches, and roots. My feet barely fit on tiny ledges and I was often unable to find any foot holds at all, pulling myself and my pack up the mountain with just my arms. As I made it to the next ledge where I could almost stand upright again, I looked out at the mountains behind me. I couldn’t believe how high I was. It nearly made me dizzy to look down. The view was enough to take my breath away. And then there was another steep climb and another and another, until finally I summited Mt. Kinsman. My hands were shaking, my legs were shaking; I couldn’t believe what I’d just done. But the view- it was phenomenal. I looked out in disbelief of the beauty. All I could see were mountains and sky. I couldn’t believe that it was real. It was a moment in my life that I will remember forever. And a climb that I will never forget!
I’d been hiking “solo” again for about a week. It was a much needed change of pace for me after spending such a long time hiking with a group. It’s a challenge to find a balance between staying with people you enjoy and staying true to the motto “hike your own hike.” But I was feeling a lot better after having time to myself and being on my own schedule again. Hiking can easily begin to feel like a chore, but the week of solo hiking quickly made hiking fun again for me, mostly because I was able to go at my own pace and spend the day entirely how I wanted to spend it. But after the day I’d just had, I was eager to be around people again. I tented at Kinsman Pond Shelter and I barely had the energy to cook dinner before climbing into my sleeping bag and crashing. My entire body was exhausted! The next morning I got water near the shelter and talked with another hiker, Haulin’ Oats, about Mt. Kinsman. I was relieved when she shared her thoughts of the climb and they were the same as mine: an amazing, but near death and slightly traumatic experience. Haha! We quickly decided that we were going to hike together through the Whites! We descended Mt. Kinsman together and stopped at the Lonesome Lake Hut near the bottom for a much needed snack break. It was the first of several huts in the White Mountains where you can stay in a pricey bunk (not the thru-hiker style, but many section hikers do) enjoy delicious dinners, tasty baked goods, and hot soup. This hut was located in a beautiful lake, mirroring the green mountains and blue skies.
Mt. Lafayette was the next big mountain on the list. Together Haulin’ Oats and I climbed up from Franconia Notch, a climb that never seemed to end, but for the most part didn’t require actual rock climbing. We went up and up and up until we reached the top and then after a very small down hill, we went up some more. There were several peaks before Lafayette and many of them were above the tree line. The trail was rocky, but beautiful. We could see for miles and miles as we went up and down across peaks, with Mt. Lafayette almost always in view. We finally made it to the top and stayed for a while to enjoy it. It was by far my favorite mountain yet. I was blown away by how incredible it all was- the terrain, the 360* views for hours an hours of hiking, the quiet beauty- everything!
The two of us met up with some other hikers, including my friend from the very beginning, Stream Clean, that evening. We ended up all hiking the next few days together, enjoying the company through such difficult terrain. Although I knew that my pace would be slowed through this section, it was pretty shocking just how much. It wasn’t really “hiking” anymore, it was rock climbing, rock scrambling, holding on for dear life, trying not to slip down muddy, wet rocks, but simultaneously the most beautiful terrain I’d ever encountered.
The day finally came to hike up Mt. Washington. I was excited for it because it’s the tallest mountain on the AT at 6,288 feet! The weather seemed to be on our side as we begin our day. We hiked to the Lake of the Clouds Hut where we breaked for lunch. Clouds began rolling in as we watched through the large windows. By the time we were again on our way, visibility was quickly lessening. We stayed together, moving from cairn to cairn as the clouds thickened and the wind picked up. Finally, we were approaching the summit, but weren’t even aware yet because we couldn’t see anything through the dense fog. There were towers and buildings in front of us that we couldn’t see until we were only yards away. But we made it! 6,288 feet up!
On top of Mt. Washington is also a museum, gift shops, and eatery. You can even pay a pricey fee to take a train up the mountain, or a shuttle. Then, you too can wait in line to have your photo taken at the summit sign. Despite being completely put off by the array of tourist attractions on top of a beautiful and iconic mountain, we were hungry hikers, and there was hot food available. We took cover from the cold wind and enjoyed hot dogs and pizza inside. We also toured the museum and learned about how many deaths have occurred in the Whites and on Mt. Washington due to extreme weather, along with many other fun facts about the mountains. Finally we were ready to continue hiking. We got geared up and headed outside and back to the trail. Immediately we found that the weather had taken a turn for the worst. Rain and ice pelted us and the wind froze us to the core. Within minutes we were soaked. The trail was nothing but wet, slippery rocks. The fog was so dense that we couldn’t see the next cairn and the wind was so intense we couldn’t hear each other yelling from just yards away. Clearly this was not ideal. The trail was above tree line for the remainder of our hike hat day where we would be completely exposed to the weather. We decided to turn back and reevaluate our plans. It didn’t take much for us to decide not to hike on in that moment. We got pricey shuttle tickets and headed down the mountain for the night, cold and wet. The next morning we shuttled right back up, and to our great relief we were greeted with sunshine and views! What a difference a day can make! The descent was difficult even in the nice weather and we were sure we made the right decision. We enjoyed beautiful scenery all day!
The Whites have been both physically demanding and so rewarding. I’m beyond grateful for this experience. I even saw two moose so far! It’s truly amazing to learn how much you are capable of, and how far you can go with pure determination. And I’m so thankful to be sharing this journey with such amazing, inspiring, and strong people.
Today I passed mile 1,900 and while I am so excited to be nearing my goal, I am equally sad to know that I have less than 300 miles left of this amazing adventure. Tomorrow I will cross into Maine and I cannot wait to see what the rest of the trail has to offer.
Thank you for following my journey. All of the support has been amazing!
Happy Trails,
Nicole
