A Walk in the Woods
10 Oct
The thing about hiking in New Hampshire is that you can be standing at the bottom of the mountain, enjoying a warm day, and yet at the top you’re hoping not to die from exposure.
We climbed Mount Eisenhower with Doug’s brother Don, who fearlessly led us up the mountain as if climbing a 1,000 granite rocks were nothing. I have to say — I missed the West’s switchbacked, graded trails. Or, at least, my calves missed those trails the next day. New Hampshire trails are not for wimps. They are straight up and straight down and if you think that 6 miles don’t sound like much, well, think again.
When we reached the top a fog had settled in, and a fierce wind blew around us so we bundled up before making our attempt at the summit. Mount Eisenhower is part of the White Mountains, a range that includes Mount Washington, which truly has the worst weather in the lower coterminous United States. Today’s weather at the summit included 80 mph winds and snow.
I always like to pretend I’m readying for the the summit of Everest so I wrote “attempt” but it really wasn’t that bad. We were mostly worried about Don, who was wearing shorts, but claimed not to even feel the sting of sleet that fell on his legs.
From the top you’re supposed to be able to see Mount Washington, the tallest mountain in New England, but we could barely see our knees.
We did see a fox though, who was headed quickly into the brush to look for any remnants of lunch we might have left behind.
I think he had the last laugh.
When we lived in NYC, my husband and I used to drive up to southern Vermont for a breath of fresh air. Even though the mountains look like hills compared to the Rockies, they’re formidable. There’s a reason they call New Hampshire the Granite State. My knees got tired just reading about your trek, but good for you.
My daughter and her boyfriend, who just moved to California, are in explicably visiting his family in New Hampshire in November! I think they’ve forgotten what New England’s weather can be like. I do love to visit there, though, in the summer and fall. Thanks for your lovely photos and humorous stories, so I can enjoy a trip there vicariously through you. I’d love to pick some McIntosh apples! Good capture on the fox!