An Overnight in the Whites

During school vacation in April, we took an overnight trip to New Hampshire's White Mountain National Forest.  It was mostly a road-trip, scouting locations for future, lengthier visits.  Don and Sarah had never been there, and it's been about 25 years since I was.

We headed up the Interstate to St. Johnsbury, VT, where we crossed into New Hampshire and followed Rte. 302 over Crawford Notch.  We passed the Mt. Washington Hotel without stopping, which I now regret.  It is an awesome sight, and, we learned later, even non-paying visitors (riffraff like us) are welcome. It was built in 1902 and looks truly magnificent. It's definitely on the "Return To" list.  The Mt. Washington Cog Railway, which runs to the summit during the summer and fall, is just past there.  That goes on the list, too.

We turned north on Rte. 16 and stopped at the Pinkham Notch Visitor Center.  It was a cold, windy day, yet the parking lot was full of cars.  The big draw is Tuckerman Ravine, a cirque on the east side of Mt. Washington.  People hike the two-and-a-half-mile trail to the base of the ravine with skis on their backs, then climb and ski down the steep slopes.  It's a very "cool" thing to do.  When I was in my mid-20s (and cool), I tagged along on such an outing, skipping the skiing, and watching from the rocks below.

Given the relatively harsh winter we had this year, most of the hiking trails were still covered with snow. Undaunted, we set out in search of a waterfall, leaving from the base of Wildcat Mountain ski area.  It was rather rough going, but we (okay, mostly me) were determined, until the snow finally got so deep we had to turn around.  I would deem it a waste of time, but, on the return trip, I fell in a snowbank, which Sarah found hysterical and will, no doubt, remember for a long time.  So I guess it was worth it. 

After the hike, we headed north to Gorham and our motel.  I had made a reservation online a few weeks earlier.  When Don gave our name at the front desk, however, they couldn't find it.  My stomach dropped.  I suggested they look under my name, but still no luck.  

The clerk seemed unfazed and said it wasn't a problem, since they had plenty of rooms open.  She asked for the name again, to register us, then a light bulb went off in her head.  She dug through a pile of papers, came up with one, and said, "I knew your name sounded familiar -- your reservation was for last week.  We put you down as a no-show."  Ah, my dear, middle-aged, muddled brain.  It's a good thing we travel when few others do.

Once in our room, Sarah set right to work on the book she made for the trip.  As she gets older, I'm sure she'll be able to fill volumes with tales of misadventures with her aging parents.  I hope she shares the royalties.

We had dinner at a sports bar, where we learned the Red Sox were playing the Yankees that evening. Sarah has a budding interest in baseball, so that was our evening's entertainment back in the room.  She peppered Dad with questions about the game.

The next morning, we had breakfast in town, then headed back down Rte. 16.  The weather was much clearer, and we had some good views of the Presidential Range.  Mt. Washington is the highest peak in New England (6,288').  It doesn't sound impressive compared with the Rockies out west, but it's known as "Home of the World's Worst Weather."  The highest surface wind speed ever observed (231 MPH) was recorded there in 1934.

Mt. Washington is in the distance at the far left
(with structures at the summit).
The closest peak is Nelson Crag (I think).

Mt. Washington is just out of the picture on the far left.
Mt. Jefferson is in the middle, then Mt. Adams,
and Mt. Madison on far right.

We stopped in North Conway for another view of Mt. Washington, this time from the south.

Following a tip from a friend of Don's, we headed for Cathedral Ledges for a hike.  This time, we walked up the paved road, which was still closed but snow-free.  It was a steep trek, but we all hung in there and enjoyed the pay-off at the top.  Much more satisfying than the previous day's outing.

The ledges from below

We headed west via the Kancamagus Highway (Rte. 112), which is a beautiful, less-developed route.  I think we should return to this part of the White Mountains to hike some time.  A few hours later, we were back home.  As Don says, you can cover a lot of ground in these tiny New England states.

Sarah at Kancamagus Pass