On the 5th and final day of our Labor Day camping and peak-bagging extravaganza, the only sensical choice was to hike Mount Madison. The other 5 remaining peaks were too remote, and since the weather was still simply stellar, we just had to knock off the last remaining exposed, rugged Presidential.

Our leg muscles were primed from the previous “rest” day on Mount Pierce, but we still choose to take the easiest route to the summit of Madison: the Valley Way trail to the Osgood Trail, an 8-mile round trip with a 4100 foot elevation gain. It’s a well-used trail that passes the legendary Madison Spring Hut, where we stopped 2 years ago during our Mount Adams hike. Had we been properly strategizing our 4000 Footers back then, we would have gone the extra .5 mile to summit Madison too. But I seem to recall being on the verge of collapsing, and besides, if we had done that, then we would have missed…

Mt. Washington from summit of Mount Madison

… a simply stunning afternoon on the summit of Madison, with a wind too gentle to even disturb the flies that congregated around us as we ate our snacky lunch.

Summit of Mount Madison

Gotta love the skort.

Summit of Mount Madison

Before we commenced our final mountain descent of the vacation, we stopped at the Madison Spring Hut for a small nap.

Wake up, Mr. P! Vacation’s over…

After three straight days of arduous hikes, we needed a rest day. And when I say “rest day,” I mean “Mount Pierce.”

Mount Pierce was the easiest of our 6 remaining White Mountain 4000 Footers, with a direct and kindly-graded route up the famed Crawford Path. The Crawford Path is the oldest continuously-used trail in the United States, cut in the 1810s when horses were the preferred mode of transportation for view-seeking tourists. Apparently, the horses found it a difficult climb, but for humans, it is steady and obstacle-free.

We reached the summit of Mount Pierce in 2 hours and 20 minutes, and were rewarded with a clear view of the Presidential Range and Mt Washington.

View from Mount Pierce

It being the Tuesday after Labor Day, we had the summit all to ourselves except for an AT hiker who briefly passed through. Mr. P took a small nap next to the summit cairn.

Summit of Mount Pierce

I sported my skort again, only that day I sort of resembled a hiking secretary.

Summit of Mount Pierce

On Labor Day, the morning after our 15-mile, 10-hour Mount Washington and Jefferson hike, I awoke from the sleep of the dead in our tent with a stiff back, odd patches of sunburn, and an insatiable appetite for eggs. Nothing like fried eggs on a chilly morning in the mountains! We dawdled over our hot beverages as the campers around us packed up their campgrounds, burned the last of their wood, and prepared to head back to civilization. It was sad to see everyone go, but at least we wouldn’t have to wait in line for the showers.

Our agenda for the day: Mount Moriah, a scenic 8-mile jaunt with some strenuous moments that provides excellent views of the Presidential and Carter ranges. The route to the summit coincides with the Appalachian Trail, and the only other hikers we saw were grizzled AT guys. It was a welcome change from yesterday’s hoopla on Mount Washington.

Also of note: I debuted my new hiking attire, which included a flirty skort (a portmanteau of skirt and shorts). Love the hiking skort!

Ascending Mount Moriah

View from Mount Moriah

Summit of Mount Moriah

I didn’t want to hike Mount Washington in anything but the most perfect weather. Mount Washington, the highest peak in the Northeast United States, is traditionally billed as the ‘Home of the World’s Worst Weather’ with regularly occurring hurricane-force winds, an average of 21 feet of snow per year, and frequent engulfment in clouds. After scrutinizing the weather forecast, it appeared that the Sunday of the Labor Day weekend would be the optimal day to hike Mount Washington: Clear blue skies, crisp 70 degree sunshine, and minimal winds.

At 9am, we started on the ever-popular Tuckerman Ravine Trail (4 miles to the top, elevation gain of 4500 feet.) We were in fine form, our muscles primed from yesterday’s Wildcat D hike, our bellies full of farm-fresh bratwurst and eggs, and we very nearly glided up the mountain, unfazed by the moderate incline, the stone-riddled pathway, and the stream of other hikers left in our wake.

We passed families of surly-faced pre-teens lead by huffing, bellied fathers. We passed a group of four large, athletic-looking African-American men wiping rivulets of sweat from their foreheads. We passed a young Hispanic man in baggy jeans and a young Hispanic woman in a fur-lined hooded sweatshirt who accelerated their pace as we passed, as if to contest our ability to overtake them, but their sneakers could not compete with the rock-hopping abilities of our boots. We passed a young mother, screaming at her son for venturing too close to a stream. We passed groups of sweaty, breathless hikers resting on the side of the trail, taking swigs from water bottles and bites from energy bars, looking exhausted and beaten. And that was just in the first mile.

Of course everyone wants to hike Mount Washington because it’s the highest mountain. And it’s “only” 4 miles, and who can’t walk 4 miles? Well, it turns out, a lot of people can’t walk 4 miles when its coupled with a 4500 foot elevation gain. But good for them for trying, I guess. And in jeans and sneakers, too.

We reached the Halfway House shortly after 10am. I was glad to finally see some interesting non-human scenery: the infamous Tuckerman Ravine and scenic Hermit Lake!

Hermit Lake at Base of Tuckerman Ravine

The climb up Tuckerman Ravine was physically and technically difficult, but we pushed ourselves past the other hikers, mainly to get away from their exhausted misery.

View from Tuckerman Ravine

Next thing we knew, we were on the summit. Now, in addition to being reachable by foot, the summit of Mount Washington is also accessible by car and by the cog railway. So, we had to fight to get our picture taken at the summit.

Summit of Mount Washington

At the Tip-Top House on Mount Washington

View of Lakes of the Clouds and Mt Monroe from Mt Washington

View from Mount Washington

Then, we made a fateful, spur-of-the-moment decision to hike to neighboring Mount Jefferson. It was only noon, and it was such a nice day, that we could not resist the temptation to bag Jefferson as well. Perhaps we should have studied the map a little closer, but we set off to Mount Jefferson.

View of Mount Washington Summit Buildings and Crowd

On Mt Washington overlooking Mt Jefferson

Cog Railroad, chugging up Mt Washington

Mt. Jefferson was 3 miles away. It was a lot of up-and-down hiking, but the incredible weather made for an amazing hike.

Ascending Mt Jefferson (with Mt Washington in the background)

Almost There...

Reaching the Summit of Mt Jefferson

Now it was 2:30pm, and we had 7 miles to go back to the car. Entirely doable to accomplish before sundown, except…

“We’re taking the Six Husbands Trail?” Mr. Pinault asked. “My co-worker says that’s the hardest trail ever!” Now he tells me.

“What’s wrong with it?” I asked, but Mr. Pinault couldn’t remember. Poor markings? Rough grades? Open ledges? As we headed down the Six Husbands trail, we passed two young men coming in the opposite direction.

“Are you taking the Six Husbands trail down?” one guy asked Mr. Pinault, who nodded. “Have fun,” he said sarcastically. “That’s all I have to say.”

I wanted to investigate the source of the young man’s derision, but they took off. It turns out the Six Husbands Trail is very technically difficult, with steep ledges, huge boulders, and ladders. Going down was probably easier than going up, but it still took us about 2 hours to go 1.5 miles.

We reached our car at 7:15pm. The sunlight was dying around us, we were more tired than triumphant, and all we could think about was that damned Six Husbands Trail.

Six Husbands Trail

Three months ago, Mr. Pinault and I decided to take an extended vacation over Labor Day weekend. But… where to go? We debated the merits of Ireland versus Iceland, mused about returning to Spain, tossed around the idea of going to Argentina, researched Alaskan cruises, and wondered about the hospitality of the cousin in Australia.

And somehow, we ended up in New Hampshire. We booked a campground in the White Mountains for 5 days, determined to make a major dent in our quest to hike all 48 of the White Mountains 4000 Footers. We needed good weather, and we got it. We needed mental and physical endurance, and we had it. We needed many pairs of socks, and, well, you know the saying about how travelers should bring half the clothes and twice the money? Actually, the inverse is true when it comes to camping.

Our car loaded with camping gear and hiking provisions, we left for the White Mountains on a crisp, clear Saturday morning… and promptly got snarled in Labor Day weekend traffic. At that point, we should have abandoned our plan to bag both Wildcat A and D and switched to a shorter hike, but the traffic made us stupid and anxious to move our legs. So at noon we reached the trailhead for Wildcat Ridge (part of the Appalachian Trail) and obstinately hiked up the east side of Pinkham Notch.

Pinkham Notch from Wildcat Ridge Trail

We stopped for a snacky lunch on an overlook and struck up a conversation with an AT hiker as he fixed his malfunctioning gaiters. Within 2 minutes, the AT hiker and I discovered that we both grew up outside of Norristown, Pennsylvania and went to neighboring high schools (me to Methacton, him to Perkiomen Valley). It seemed a marvelous coincidence. “I’ve been on the AT since March,” he said. “I’ve met people from South Africa, Japan, Norway, Russia, and Brazil. I guess it makes sense to meet someone from Methacton.”

He set out ahead of us, but later we caught up to him as he relaxed with another AT hiker after a steep climb. They asked me what it was like in Boston after Ted Kennedy died, and I described the nostalgic sadness that gripped even the most apathetic citizen. The other AT hiker interrupted me to make quips about Chappaquiddick. Classy.

Wildcat is a ski resort, so we knew the summit was close by when we heard the mechanic whirl of the gondolas, which operate all year round. We walked past the crowds to the Wildcat D summit, which has a wooden observation platform that was inexplicably closed.

Summit of Wildcat D

Wildcat D has awesome, awesome views of Mount Washington, which we knew would be our destination for the following day.

On Wildcat D overlooking Mt Washington

My, Mount Washington looks… immense.

So does Mounts Adams (the pointy one on the left) and Madison, another destination for the upcoming week.

Mounts Adams and Madison

Unless we exhausted ourselves, we could not make it to Wildcat A peak and back to the car by sundown, so we trekked back to the car. We will have to hit Wildcat A during our trip to bag the 3 Carter peaks. Although it was disappointing not to meet our goal, after all… it’s vacation! We were ready to relax by the campfire .