An Epic Day: The Presidential Traverse

The wild, rocky Northern Presidentials

My buddy John and I summited Pierce, Eisenhower, and Washington last year - but since we got a ride down from the big boy, they didn't "count" as peaks - according to the AMC. So, to claim them as a "climbed" 4000-footer, I'd have to tackle these suckers again. So, I figured, why not do them all?

The mountains that lay South of Mt. Washington are known as the Southern Presidentials. Monroe, Eisenhower, Pierce, and Jackson. Also included is "Little Monroe", Webster, and other smaller sub-peaks. Jackson is sometimes included in a "Presi Traverse", but we didn't hit it this time. These mountains are all above treeline, and are rocky and exposed, but nothing compared to the Northern Presidentials, which rise up north of Washington. These mountains are truly the most wild and otherworldly in the region; sometimes it's almost as if you're traversing an alien planet; fields of scree and lichen, wild winds, erratic weather, and steep, craggy cliffs. But gorgeous; just absolutely breathtakingly beautiful. The official 4000 footers in the Northern Presidentials are Madison, Adams, and Jefferson (we also summited Mt. Clay). Add Washington in as the mid-point, and we're climbing the tallest (well, 5 of the tallest, Eisenhower and Piece come in a bit down the list), roughest mountains in the Whites, over 20 miles, with 9000 feet of elevation gain... in a day. Yeah, it sounds a bit crazy.

cairns made of quartz on the trail

After spotting a car at Crawford Notch near the AMC's Highland Center, we made camp at the Crawford Notch campground and were up before the sun. We hit the trail at Appalachia Trailhead on Route 2 - the northern terminus of the Presidential Range - at about 5:15, Sunday, July 22nd, and hiked south. The woods were muggy and full of toads as we climbed toward Mt. Madison; by the time we hit treeline, the morning mist was burning off and a beautiful day was presenting itself. We carefully followed the cairns - piles of rocks that mark the trail - over a seemingly unending upward expanse of large rocks. Constant attention must be paid to footing, and it's almost hard to appreciate the beauty of this place and choose your steps at the same time. Eventually we made it to Madison's high summit, and started down the other side, toward the Madison Hut. This hut, run by the Appalachian Mountain Club (AMC) is actually the final one for me to visit. We took a break, chatted with the crew, filled up water, and had some coffee and delicious baked goods, prepared by the Croo (nickname for the AMC Hut staff). On this decent, I met my first northbound thruhikers of the year, this trail being part of the venerated Appalachian Trail, and this being the time of year when they typically begin passing through the White Mountains.

Washington from the climb to Adams - Auto Road visible

After a short respite we headed out, up the very steep climb to Mt. Adams. Here Mt. Washington presented itself in the distance. The ascent was very steep, and soon we were back up above the summit of Madison, and soon at the rocky summit of Adams. I found the going here to be some of the toughest of the day. Lots of people were out on the trail, which is normal for being so close to a hut. A lot of folks will stay at the huts and do short hikes around to the surrounding mountains. A couple of young, exceedingly fit guys passed us, also attempting a Presi Traverse. They'd left a good while after us, and were hiking pretty fast. We kept up with them, more or less, until Jefferson, but didn't see much of them after.

The Great Gulf Wilderness

A Presi traverse is essentially the longest time you can stay above treeline in the White Mountains. The only runner-up is Franconia Ridge, on the western rim of the Pemigewasset Wilderness, and it's significantly smaller than the alpine region in the Presidentials. The Traverse is an entire day (considering you're lucky enough to have good weather) of incredible, vast, sweeping views in all directions, as you hike along the ridge. To hike along the rim of the vast glacial cirque that is the Great Gulf Wilderness for miles upon miles, on a clear day, is an experience I will not soon forget.

We reached Jefferson's summit sometime after noon. I would call it a friendly summit, for these mountains at least, and hikers sat about, dozing on sleeping pads, and eating lunch. I ditched my pack and climbed to the top of a large rockpile, upon which was the true summit. After my thousandth sweeping panoramic gaze, breathing deeply and peacefully in the chilled mountain air, I went back down and a had a quick snack before trekking on. The key to finishing a hike of this magnitude is to keep moving. We already will likely be hiking out in the dark, but minimizing the night hiking is a good idea. Keep moving.

Cog Railway

We proceeded down the Gulfside trail - which skirts most of the major peaks, requiring detouring on other trails to get the summits - to Mt. Clay on the Clay Loop trails, and then on to the arduous climb up Mt. Washington. My feet and knees were definitely starting to ache, and the psychological game began. So much of this kind of hiking is all in the head; you have to keep a positive mindset if you want to accomplish such a goal. You have to tell yourself, "well, self, you're hurting, but you have many more miles to go. So you can dwell on the pain and each step will be misery, or you can get out of your body, look past the discomfort, and enjoy this wonderful place." Of course, you need to be able to differentiate between normal discomfort and pain that might indicate an injury. At this point, however, this is normal pain for having trekked over sharp rocks and up steep embankments, over and over again, for many mountain miles. So, I put my head down and kept going.

For this hike I went for my Merrill Vent hiking shoes, and not my Vasque boots. I thought a lot about this decision, and I think I made the right choice. Though the lightweight Merrills aren't as tough as my boots, and transfer more of the rocky terrain to my feet, they are significantly lighter. After thousands of steps, that kind of small weight differential adds up, and can increase your chances of fatigue and possibly injury. It's gonna hurt, one way or another, so I decided to go lighter.

Washington summit

We hiked along the cog railway, and the train that totes tourists up to the 6288' summit of Washinton on a track much like a roller coaster. Built in 1869, they still run the original coal-powered steam locomotive once a day, but biodiesel trains do the duty most of the time. I waved to the folks in the train, and they waved back. After what seemed like an eternity, we got to the summit of Washington at about 2:30 PM. It was buzzing with folks who had taken the train or the Auto Road up. I had a chili dog, a bag of chips and a soda, and changed my socks. Definitely glad I brought another pair of socks - comfy, thick, Smartwool ones at that - and my feet appreciated it. While the urge to dawdle was strong, we moved on after about 20 minutes, this time hitting the Crawford Path for the first time in the hike. This path, leaving down the south side of Washington, is the oldest maintained mountain trail in the United States, and would bring us all the way through the Southern Presis and to the end of our hike.

You have to listen to your body very closely on hikes like this, and you must find a rhythm that works for you. It seems obvious, but sometimes the urge to charge ahead is strong. If you're getting tired, take a break and eat. Drink water as consistantly as you can (I would never go on a hike like this without my hydration pack). If your feet hurt, take your shoes off, change your socks, loosen and adjust the laces. If you feel a hot spot on your foot, don't wait - pull over and fix it with a bandaid or moleskin immediately. If your shoulders, hips, or back hurt, take off your pack, release all the straps, and readjust. Taking a few minutes to address these essentials will increase your chances of making it - and enjoying it - immensely.

Lake of the Clouds hut, Mt. Monroe

The hike down to Lake of the Clouds Hut was beautiful, and not terribly difficult. I had my trail legs at this point, and my brain was emitting some kind of welcome endorphin to kill most of the pain in my knees and feet. The Coke I slammed at the summit also helped - I normally avoid heavy doses of sugar but on the trail it can do wonders. We took a quick stop at the hut, this being the last place to get water for the remainder of our hike. I eavesdropped on a young, bearded thruhiker regaling a group of older well-to-do mountain yuppies in expensive outdoors gear with stories of the trail. They were engrossed, asking questions like wide-eyed schoolchildren. The thruhiker munched on uncooked Ramen.

Only three mountains remain, and from our vantage point they look pretty easy compared to the Northern Presidentials. I'm not sure what geological event or conditions cause the Southern Presis to be so different from the Northern, but they are strikingly so. We were hiking strong at this point, and cruised up Monroe, and though Eisenhower looked very hard from a distance, a series of switchbacks led us up rather painlessly. The sun was getting low in the sky, it was getting up around 6 on the summit of Eisenhower (near a very large cairn), and other than a friendly red-haired thruhiker named Teflon, we didn't see a soul. At this point I started to recognize things; we were walking in reverse the route John and I had taken last year. This time, the weather was much clearer. But late in the day in the mountains is a strange time; it's very beautiful up on this ridge, but there is the nagging, worrisome feeling in the gut that night is coming.

We pretty much bombed up Pierce, the last peak on our hike. We took a break to snack, then donned our headlamps and headed down Crawford path at sometime around 7:30. It wasn't dark yet, but soon it would be. But Crawford Path coming off Pierce isn't difficult terrain, and after a lovely sunset in the woods, with yellow dappled light streaming in through the trees, the sun was replaced with a small rising moon in a dark blue sky, and we hiked out for a final hour with our headlamps; going was slow, I was exhausted, but the psychological game continues; you still have to measure each step, especially in the dark, and fight the fatigue, because this is exactly when you can get hurt, even on an easy trail. My eyes played tricks on me in the dark; roots were snakes, strange things glittered in the dark woods, and I could have sworn I saw a bear cub - but it was just a large rock. But by the light of the headlamp everything takes on a strange, grayscale tone. After what seemed like a very long time, we reached the road crossing - I turned my light off for a second, engrossed by the absolute blackness of the mountain night - and the trailhead parking lot at around 9:30.

night hiking down Crawford Path

A short drive back to the campsite, where I took a lot of Ibuprofen and a shower and slept like a log. A very long but amazing day in the Presidential Ridge, this hike will stay with me forever. In the future, whenever I may think something is too difficult, too long, too painful... I will think of this day among these Mountains' beauty and ruggedness, and hopefully, it will give me the strength to face it with peace and patience.